#it creates a nice dissonance?
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I’m rewatching Resurrection of the Daleks on a whim, and every time I revisit it I’m always surprised how much of the Hartnell and Troughton Dalek stories are frothing in it. The duplicates are both The Chase and the Robomen, the time corridor and the Daleks setting traps and snares in past/present/future is from The Evil of the Daleks. The Doctor putting aside his usual self and care for his companions in the crusade against them, again, Troughton’s duo. It’s a fun contrast with Davros’ presence, he bringing a nastier Re-Animator bite to Genesis canon vs the Daleks gradually realizing that, no, he and they genuinely cannot occupy the same space without destroying each other.
It’s also funny to me how relentlessly bullied so much of this plot and the mistakes the Daleks keep making have been over the years and according to fandom wisdom, as if.. it’s not… the point? As if the script isn’t completely aware? They’re absurd, hateful, monstrously violent little idiots, so blinded by their ego and paranoia that, yeah, they keep making major mistakes. Their plot has too many steps bound to collapse, the Supreme watches everything and everyone wandering around the prison station as if he controls everything, too cowardly to leave his control room, and then panics and blames everyone else the moment things being to spiral to the gory finale. I dunno. This is a nasty little serial, but it’s my nasty little serial. Warriors of the Deep is much the same way for me.
#I know Saward actually did quite a bit of extensive homework on all the Dalek stories#so I think that’s why there’s a fascinating continuation of Davros and the handling of the 70s Daleks with so much 60s rolling around#it creates a nice dissonance?#resurrection of the Daleks#Saward really deserves to be picked apart but in a way that’s much less This Is Grimdark Crap that writes him off#there’s plenty to criticize especially when Peri came into the scene and he shared that with JNT#but to act like the very intentioned grisly absurdism isn’t completely aware of itself is… pretty insulting?#i mean there’s a reason he vibed with Holmes so much#they’re differently approaches and dark/violent flourishes of the same sense of humor#also I think the bomb disposal squad being so clearly a UNIT proxy and then all brutally slaughtered is really fucked up lmao#I love it#it’s the same with the Earthshock dudes
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Thinking about how adorably awkward Diavolo is, but also how sad he is too. This guy grew up super isolated with a father that neglected him, a “friend” that was obligated to play with him and cater to his every whim, and essentially raised by an ancient time demon that he “bullied” into serving him.
This poor guy has never ever had a single person be around him/with him by choice. Imagine what that does to him, to his self-esteem. The only one who has been with him by choice is Barbatos, but every now and then, Diavolo will doubt even that much, considering how he had “forced” him into serving him when he was younger (logically he knows Barbatos could have refused him; he was powerful enough to… but even then, the doubt lingers).
On top of that, he’s trying to join the three realms in a peaceful way, which I would guess not everyone in the Devildom is okay with.
Even when the angels fell, and Lucifer requested his help, Diavolo did it on the condition that Lucifer (and by proxy his brothers) serve him and the Devildom. Because even though they may have been somewhat friends (remember Diavolo planted an apple tree for Lucifer when he was still an angel), Diavolo had to act as a prince first, setting his own personal desires aside. His help would come at a price.
Everything he does is so motivated by this deep-rooted loneliness, forced by his position and power, and the choices he has to make because of it, keeping him isolated from others.
This persistent isolation and always being served by others has left a huge deficit in his people/relationship skills. The wild shit he says or does when interacting with those he cares about isn’t even intended to cross boundaries or rile them up half the time. He genuinely means it in the most innocent way. He hasn’t exactly learned what’s appropriate and what’s not appropriate (after all, the only friend he had was Mephisto, who worships the ground he walks on and never tells him no to anything). So he’s learning that now, albeit a bit late. He really just gets an idea that sounds nice in his head, inspired by his love and respect for that person, and says it out loud in an effort to deepen his relationship (ie, friendship) with them. And fortunately for him, Lucifer is able to be patient enough with him and maintain those boundaries as he figures out all of the nuances of socially and culturally acceptable communication and relationship building.
That’s not to say that there aren’t times where Diavolo doesn’t say or do things on purpose with the intent of giving others a hard time. He’ll definitely say things to get under Lucifer’s skin; he likes to fluster him, and for Diavolo, even bad attention is better than no attention. But I think there’s also another purpose to it, albeit subconsciously, in that it allows him to experience healthy boundaries which he never had when he was younger. Lucifer has no problem saying no to him, even at times when Barbatos doesn’t (Barbatos is strict, but he’ll also dote on Diavolo at times too, in a motherly way). It allows Diavolo to feel equal with Lucifer, more friends/comrades than ruler/oath-bound servant.
It’s also the same reason (partially) why he tries to escape his work half the time, or will come up with wild ideas that Barbatos has to say no to. He likes pushing (just a little) against the boundaries placed by others in order to meet that resistance. In a weird way it’s how he knows that they genuinely care about him rather than simply serve him out of obligation. They tell him no when he needs to hear it, but they’re also forgiving.
He’s always known he’s not perfect, yet he was treated like he was for so long. It created a dissonance between who he was told he was versus how he was experiencing himself. Now, he’s allowed to experience, understand, and accept his own imperfections through those closest to him and how they respond to him when they maintain their boundaries. It validates his own self perception of being imperfect while also allowing room for growth and understanding that the imperfections are acceptable/allowed to be there.
I think the last lingering doubt of others’ genuine love for him is the fact that they literally cannot leave him, at least not without consequences. Sure, they can disagree, even fight him. But in the end, he’s the prince, and they’re bound to him by duty and oaths. If they weren’t bound, would they still stay and continue to be there for him? Or are they merely tolerating him? It’s an insecurity that still plagues him.
Anyway… not sure where I was going with this. Brain is just stuck ruminating on it. He’s such an interesting character, I love him so much.
#arvandus rambles#obey me#obey me Nightbringer#Diavolo#obey me Diavolo#Diavolo obey me#om diavolo#diavolo om
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Secondo Emeritus - Naples
Primo | Secondo
Naples. My beautiful Naples. My beloved, adored Naples. It is the city where I studied and grew up in and it is also literally filled with mysteries and legends.
I thought Naples would have been the perfect formation place for a young Secondo Emeritus. Let’s see what may have influenced and inspired him in his religious journey.
1 - The musical church.
Ghost’s music has always been heavily loaded with the Devil’s Tritone: also called Diabulus in Musica or Devil’s Interval, it is an unsettling dissonance produced by an unusual arrangement of notes that gives that spooky, devilish tone to music. In Infestissumam, it was featured on 9 out of 10 songs. The use of the Tritone was banned in Medieval times (In Ghost, its use dramatically dropped with Prequelle, with only 2 out of 10 songs featuring it). So what if I tell you that, in contrast, in Naples there is a church that functions as a musical score, whose music protects it from evil?
Basically, there is a church in Piazza del Gesù that has a particular pointy ashlar on the external facade. Under the side (the one facing the ground, so if you look up from the street you can see them) of each of these little pyramids are carved symbols, which turned out to be Aramaic letters that were later translated into musical notes. So, it turned out that the whole church is a big score, and it’s playable. The whole melody, called Enigma, was played for the first time inside the church to celebrate the discovery. You can hear the music here (sound quality is not the best).
Will it protect the church from Ghost’s music?
2 - The skull cult.
Naples has very intricate underground galleries, almost all visitable. One of these is Cimitero delle Fontanelle, a famous catacomb where the remains of about 40.000 people who died from plagues are stored. It is said the “anime pezzentelle” cult was born here: it is a particular relationship each Neapolitan establishes with a chosen skull. You literally adopt an abandoned skull, which according to our tradition is the seat of the soul, and your duty is to care for it, protect it and also create a special niche for it. In exchange, the soul of that skull will protect you.
A nice place for a Bone Daddy.
3 - Pretty and Evil like Mergellina’s devil.
Knowing the passion our Secondo has for women, here is a story about a very devilish one.
In Santa Maria del Prato church, in the Mergellina area, there is the only representation of the devil as a woman in a painting.
The legend has it that said woman was the beautiful Vittoria D’Avalos, who seduced the Bishop Diomede Carafa, who commissioned the painting in 1542 to represent his victory against the woman’s lust (we're all believing him, right? 🙄).
Now that story has a way of saying that refers to femmes fatales as “Pretty and Evil like Mergellina’s devil”.
I’d say she may be considered among the first-ever Sisters of Sin.
4 - Who gives life can also take it.
Infestissumam is filled with references to birth and Jesus, turning it into the birth of the antichrist and creating a narrative that is completely opposite to the birth of the Son of Man. Now, in Naples, there is a statue that embodies both concepts.
Back to Piazza del Gesù: On a very high pedestal in the center of the square stands a statue of the Virgin Mary, the Mother. That's all... until you position yourself at a specific point in the square and look up to see the statue transformed into the Reaper. His face is hidden by the cowl, staring straight at you, with a sickle at its feet and a snake crawling on it.
Depending on your point of view, the giver of life becomes the taker of it.
5 - Body and Blood… but especially blood.
What never stops to fascinate me about the relationship of Neapolitans with religion is the very thin line between devotion and pure blasphemy. It is the case of the “miracle” of San Gennaro’s blood. It happens twice a year and it consists in bringing the Saint’s blood in a liquid state again (after centuries it is obviously solidified). The particular thing is that during this ritual, the worshippers (and the priests too) literally insult the saint to convince him to make the miracle happen, because if it doesn’t work, it means that something terrible is about to happen.
(Last time it didn’t work was right before the Covid pandemic 🙂)
I’d say this could have been a great inspiration for Body and Blood and Idolatrine.
Honorable mention to the fact that I have lived 32 years now on this Earth and I never attended this event even though I would like to.
Bonus: Now, I said that Dante would come back in the chapters, and he is. In fact, not only Virgilio died in Naples (and he is the protector of the city) but, apparently, the gates of Hell Dante mentioned in his comedy were located on the Averno lake, near Pozzuoli, not far from Naples.
#the band ghost#ghost theory#papa emeritus ii#secondo emeritus#secondo#papa secondo#ghost fandom#Italian cities#ghost band theories
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UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 4
Chapter Four: An Orchestration of Dissonance And Innocent Surrender
Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?
Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Mention of catcalling, men being awful, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing
Word Count: 11.1k
A/N: HELLO UM! THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU AGAIN! UM AHHHH T^T I love you guys so much, thank you for all the kind words and comments. The reblogs and then PUTTING ME IN FIC RECS WHAT– O_O Thank you guys again so so so so so much! You deserve the world <3 And as always, I put my little outline and thoughts at the end notes! Mwa ilysm
Song: Bigger Than Love by Oh Wonder
Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist
TLOU WORLD – 2023
OLD ABANDONED TRUCK STOP– DAY
You three are at an abandoned truck stop and fully aged, weathered vehicles surround the area. The sun shone on your skin as you waited for Ellie just outside the restroom door after she demanded privacy for a bit to relieve herself. You didn’t question the kid, it was the least you could do for her.
You’re secretly admiring Joel from a distance, and you watch Joel prepare the red large gas can, a clear long tube, and a siphon. Promptly, you hear the sound of the restroom door slamming open and you look at Ellie, “You good?” She nods cheerfully at you, “Yep. All good.” And then you both approach Joel, the gravel crunching beneath your feet as you did, and you slowly take notice that the asphalt has lifted from the ground strangely. You stop walking and quizzically stare at the lifted asphalt, your eyebrows knit together and you kneel down to take a better look at it, Ellie looks at you like you’ve gone insane, “Are you alright?” she asks you, and you keep your eyes focused on the ground, “Yeah, just… It’s hopefully nothing.” You say in response and push yourself upright, “Let’s go see what Joel is up to.”
Joel is currently kneeling on one knee and feeding both tubes in the tank, Ellie stands in front of him while you stand to the left of her, “We have to do this every hour?” she asked in a bored tone. Joel glances at her in acknowledgment then continues on with the siphon, “Gas breaks down over time. This stuff’s almost water.” He grabs a rag to create a seal around the tubes, “Back in the day, we’d drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere.” He says as you and Ellie continue to watch him keenly, “So where’d you go?” she questioned, and he looks up at the both of you, “Pretty much nowhere.” Joel subsequently blows air into the short tube, which forces air through the short tube and increases the pressure of the air above the gas in the tank, causing it to flow through the longer tube and into the gas can. You lean your weight on one of the rusted cars and fold your arms in front of you.
“Nice! How does that work?” Ellie asks Joel and you tilt your head to the side to listen to his response, “It’s a siphon. It’s when liquid… travels against gravity because pressure…” Ellie’s lips are pressed together as she says, “You don’t know.” He stares at her before asserting, “I know it works.” She chuckles and you smirk at him, “Want me to explain it or…” He only mumbles, “Smartass,” and you roll your eyes, something truly possessed you to be bold for a moment, because you teasingly reply, “But you secretly like it.”
It earns you a look from him that causes your heartbeat to accelerate and it suddenly becomes a little harder to breathe, he only pulls away because he spots Ellie turning around to wander off, “No wanderin’.” He tells her seriously, she stops short and sighs, before saying, “Okay. This is your fault then.” She places her bag atop one of the abandoned, rusty cars, and pulls out a book with the title ‘No Pun Intended Volume Too by Will Livingston’, Joel watches her bewildered and perplexed as she reads out one of the puns from the book, “It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary.” She gives a little laugh and you smile at her merriment as she shows Joel the book cover, “‘No Pun Intended Volume Too by Will Livingston.’ Volume Too. Look. You get it? ‘Too’ Like, T-O-O.” And Joel huffs and begins to stand up with a peeved look, “Oh Jesus.” But Ellie pushes on and says, “What did the mermaid wear to her math class?” You and Joel look at each other, then at Ellie, waiting for her to say the punch line, and you watch her as she slowly leans forward slowly before saying, “‘An algae bra.’ Like, algae bra.” She laughs out loud before speaking again, “I stayed up all night wondering–” To which Joel shakes his head at her, “No,” but this doesn’t deter her at all and goes on, “ where the sun went and then it dawned on me.”
Seemingly annoyed he gruffly says to her, “Feel free to wait in the truck,” and she exhales, “Okay, but just know, you can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back.” Ellie puts her book in her pack and before leaving you both she says, “There’s nothing you can do to stop him.” Joel says nothing as he also leans on the old rusting car with his arms crossed, and Ellie goes to wait in the truck. You let the silence settle and give him a little bit of peace before calling out to him, “Joel.” He says nothing but he does bring his eyes to look at you. “You know it’s okay to like her. Right?” You said with the softest eyes and kind smile, and he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” You deeply exhale and push yourself off the hood of the car to stand in front of him, “You can’t or you won’t?” And he looks down at his boots, “Can’t.”
You didn’t want to put any more discomfort and decided to simply nod instead, “Okay.” He slowly brings his head up to give you a suspicious look, “Okay?” You nod, “Mhm, okay.” His eyes narrow, “That’s it? No tryin’ to change my mind?” You shrug in response, “I have a feeling you’ll do that on your own. Anyways, the gas can is full.” You raise your eyebrows, “Need any help carrying that thing?” He grumpily bends down to pick up the heavy gas can and his voice timber and low says, “I could carry you and this back to the truck if I wanted to.” You feel your brain short-circuits for a second, the warmth spreads throughout your whole body and your eyes widened in embarrassment, “Um, I’m just gonna… mhm.” And you turn to run to the truck. Joel lets out a breathy chuckle, smirking the whole time as he watches your figure run.
ON THE ROAD - NOON
The blue Chevy pulls out of the gas station and Joel has one hand on the steering wheel and his right rest on the console, while you are sitting next to him in the passenger seat, looking out at the window studying the environment, and Ellie is content in the backseat. You feel an unease settle in and create a home in your bones, not knowing what could happen terrifies you. Every possibility in your mind pops in and out, and you ponder which part of the video game did they keep or change.
“Must’ve been some truck.” Ellie says as she peers through the window glass at the back of the vehicle, Joel grunts in agreement and explains why the highways are so clear, “Yeah, they used to stick big ass plows on the back and clear the road for their tanks and such.” Ellie finds all of this very exciting and exclaims, “I wanna see a tank!” Joel looks at her from the rearview mirror and simply says, “You will.” Your eyes shift to look at Joel as he keeps talking with a wearied cynicism, “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff, but they’ll fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.”
Ellie digs through the utility pocket behind the passenger seat to find another cassette tape, she raises up enthusiastic and eager, “I got something. Here. This make you all nostalgic?” She says as she pushes up to show Joel, he takes it and you peer over to look at the title cover, ‘Hank Williams, The Original Singles Collection’, Joel replies, “This is actually before my time.” And Ellie goes to sit back properly in the backseat, “Great.”
He hums appreciatively, “It’s a winner, though.” When he places the cassette tape in the player, the rattling sound of plastic can be heard before the music begins and he cranks up the volume. Joel miraculously smiles as he listens to the song, “Oh, man.” And you raise an eyebrow at him, “Of course, you’d like this, it’s cowboy music.” You said and he lets out a small but beautiful chuckle, which causes your body to heat up. The young girl continues to explore the back of the truck, digging through the other utility pocket, you hear a quiet rustling of paper as she whips out a magazine, “Got something else.”
Joel looks at the rearview mirror again to look at Ellie, while you turn to look at what she has and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and so does hers. “It’s light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.” Your shoulders begin to shake as you try and hold in your laugh as Joel seemingly panics, “No. No, no, no. Put that back, that’s not for kids.” Ellie doesn’t listen and continues to flip through the pages, “How would he even walk around with that thing?” God, you tried to hold it in but couldn’t anymore, you’re now full-on grinning and laughing so loud and carefree, while Joel is trying his best to get Ellie to cooperate, “Please get rid of it.”
“Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.” Ellie says as she analyzes the magazine, while you’re practically wheezing and happy that they incorporated this part of the video game. Joel practically gives up but Ellie decides to innocently say, “Why are all these pages stuck together?” Joel has a baffled look on his face as he lets out an, “Uh… The…” Your mouth hangs wide open for a moment and you curl your hand into a fist, bringing it to your mouth to bite back from cackling again. Ellie puts him out of his misery and slaps him on the shoulder, “I’m just fucking with you.” And throws the adult magazine out the window, it flutters out into the wind and onto the side of the road, yelling out, “Bye-bye, dude!”
You smile and think to yourself, joy itself always seems to end before we want it to. Brief and ephemeral. So, this time, you decide to let go and in this moment you can breathe. It lives in your periphery. In the corner of your eyes. Suddenly, it shows up and the surprise adds to its beauty. A gratitude for all that follows
ON THE ROAD AND TO THE FOREST - CIVIL TWILIGHT
Time moves quickly as Joel continues to drive and Ellie silently watches the view from the window. You take note of the cows grazing on grass, the cars that were left to rot, and the familiar landmarks crumbling down as mother intended to take back what was hers. They must have cried themselves a hurricane because there was an earthquake and an avalanche of change. The echo, as vast as the equator, spreads across a world of bottled-up anger, and it's too late to prevent it now.
As the hours pass by and the sun slowly begins to set, you check on Ellie from the rearview, she looks fatigued from all the driving and so do you, it’s been a while since your last road trip, and you barely had time for yourself since you were stuck in the lab all day and night. Joel sees your weary eyes and frown, he also sees a similar look to Ellie, and he decides to tell you both, “All right. That’s enough for today.” He places both of his hands to turn the wheel to the right, driving off the road and into the field, straight into a thick forest filled with tall evergreen trees.
The truck comes to a stop and you all prepare to camp out for the night. You help Joel cook and prepare dinner and Ellie keeps herself occupied as she pokes around the dirt with a stick. The smell of canned ravioli fills your lungs and your mouth begins to water. Joel taps the edge of the pot, indicating that it’s cooked and you call for Ellie to sit down for dinner. The three of you sit down in a semi-circle, with you in the middle, and Joel and Ellie on each side. You gently blow on the hot ravioli before bringing the food into your mouth, chewing quietly, and amusingly watch Ellie scarf down her food quickly. Joel looks at her kind of bothered by her manners, “Slow down.” He said, and she replies with a mouthful of food, “This is slow. What am I even eating?” Joel cuts hit food using his fork and knife and answers, “That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli.” Ellie brings another piece of pasta and answers while chewing, “That guy was good.” Joel hums in agreement, “I actually agree.” And you nod appreciatively as you finish your food.
“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie asks Joel and you look to him for his response, “I figure I’d sleep tonight and drive tomorrow all day, all night get us to Wyoming by next morning.” Ellie plays with her food as she asks, “So can we start a fire? I’m freezing.” Joel gives a pointed stare, “Now why am I gonna tell you no?” She shrugs and guesses, “Because the infected will see the smoke.” He shakes his head at her, “No. Fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for infected, anyway.” The answer dawns on Ellie and asks, “People?” And Joel nods, his answer to her question. She continues to press for more information, “So what are they gonna do? Rob us?” And you frown, knowing exactly what people do during war or a crisis, morals are thrown out the window and everyone can do as they please. Every crime, assault, and misdemeanor is seen as means to an end, which is to take and survive. Your knuckles turn white as you grip your fork, angry at the world and the people who choose to do all forms of wrong. Joel warns her, “Well, they’ll have way more in mind than that.” Ellie nods while pouting, “Okay.”
LOCATION UNKNOWN, A FOREST – NIGHT
Your eyes are well-versed in the dark and the mind was then created to illumine the heart. And when every constellation suddenly emerged, the remote was drawn so close by telescopes and computations. You inhale, exhale, and reset. Realizing, every living creature is in a continual state of uncertainty. Even with all of your past, you’ve just scratched the surface of what it all implies. Ellie prepares her sleeping bag and so do you, placing yours in between hers and Joel’s. “Actually smells kinda good.” Ellie said as she continues to unfold the sleeping bag, you hear Joel comment, “Well, that would be Frank’s then.” She tucks herself in and you help her as you do, lightly patting the blanket as she settles comfortably. You do the same and now you’re flat on your back as you gaze at the stars illuminating the darkness and listen to the quiet rustling of the branches and leaves of the trees, the melodies sung by the chirping of crickets. Joel checks the chamber of the rifle and ensures that it’s loaded and ready just in case of an ambush, then he places it next to him. You hear Ellie take something out of her backpack and you had a sneaking suspicion it was the No Pun Intended book. The light of the lantern slowly fades away and the shadows follow the rules and the darkness expands around all of you.
Joel is facing away from the both of you and Ellie whips out her flashlight and quickly glances at her favorite book, clicks off the light, and aloud she calls out both of your names, you look at her but Joel doesn’t respond at first, you slide out a little to lean a bit forward to his side and tap him on the shoulder, “What?” he asks, and Ellie responds, “Can I ask you a serious question?” And without hesitation, he says, “Yeah.” You smile knowingly at what was about to happen as she questions, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?” A beat passes between the three of you, and you and Joel whisper simultaneously, “Because he was outstanding in his field.” Ellie rises from her sleeping bag and exclaims, “You dicks!”
A large grin spreads across your face and Joel turns around to face the other direction, Ellie begins to interrogate the two of you, “Did both of you read this?” You hear the smile in Joel’s voice as he answers, “No.” And you give an airy chuckle, “Nope.” He sighs and then tells you both, “Now go to sleep.” Ellie makes a noise of suspicion but says nothing as she tucks the book into her sleeping pouch, the hoot of an owl can be heard from above, and the howls of coyotes from a distance.
Ellie is also gazing up at the stars with you now and begins to appreciate the way they glow and shimmer. You move your head to look at Ellie and whisper, “Psst. Ellie…” She turns her head to your side, “Yeah?” And in a hushed tone, you ask, “Do you wanna learn something about constellations?” She nods enthusiastically, “Yeah!” And you begin to whisper the explanation and details, you point and trace your fingers at the stars, your rickety astrology determined to give her hope, “Orion's belt is right above the equator of the Earth. Everyone, and everywhere can see just stars in that area. A star placed above one of the poles, such as the North Star, and concealed from us in the opposing hemisphere, obstructed by Earth itself.”
She is looking at you with her eyes as big as summer tomatoes, full of admiration and awe at your intelligence like you have all the answers, and wonders if she will ever be a woman like you. She seeks an answer to her next question, “Is Orion like a place?” You smile and in a soft voice you say, “No, he’s someone from greek mythology. In the stores, he was a giant and very handsome hunter, who had many affairs and lovers. Either his assault on or admiration for a goddess named Artemis, another god named Zeus placed him amongst the stars as punishment. Stories and text sometimes get lost in translation.”
This is when she learned to wish on stars, content she hums an appreciative thank you and you give a small smile in return. After another beat passes, Ellie poses a new question, this time aimed at Joel, who had been listening to the two of you the whole time but stayed quiet, “Those people you said… there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.”
Her words hang in the air briefly, “No one’s gonna find us.” Joel reassures her and Ellie responds with a quiet, “Okay.” She turns in for the night and begins to fall asleep. There is a sudden weight on your chest when she asked her query, and you suddenly feel nauseous at the thought of anything happening to Ellie and Joel. You close your eyes and swallow away the urge to vomit, and with the darkness, you’ve seen, your tired eyes rest and allow yourself to sleep for a while. But if you had stayed up just a little longer, you would have heard Joel leave his sleeping bag and reach for his rifle, and his footsteps walking a distance away from you and Ellie, ensuring your safety as he watches and anticipates any sign of danger, his guilt for scaring the girl keeps him up all night and the thought of you getting hurt. He holds his rifle ready, protecting the two of you who quietly snore into the night.
LOCATION UNKNOWN, A FOREST – DAWN
The sound of chirping birds wakes you and you groggily sit up. You look to your left to see Ellie who was still sound asleep, and then you see Joel standing watch with his rifle, you have a suspicion he didn’t actually sleep and Ellie’s concern kept him up. You sigh and quietly leave your sleeping bag, down your arms, a thousand satellites discover the cool breeze in the air, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself to salvage some warmth. You stretch your arms up to the sky, trying to wake your body to begin the day, then you hear the lime-green grass rustle and shake, creating whispers of sound beneath Joel’s boots as he walks toward you, glancing over your shoulder before turning to face him.
You feel his confident presence and your heart skips a beat, he greets you with his voice thick and smooth, “Mornin’.” You warmly say good morning to him in a hushed voice, you take a good look at him to see his deep eyebags, completely exhausted, and you ask, “Did you even sleep at all?” He doesn’t deny it as he shook his head, “No, I couldn’t.” You hum in response, already confirming what you thought, next, you inquire, “Do we have any coffee that I could brew? I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
“Did you not sleep well last night? Could hear you snorin’ from where I was standing.” Joel said with his tone straightforward and deep, you shrug, “Sometimes I wake up tired, and besides, I enjoy a good cup of coffee to start my day, it’s my morning ritual back home.” You make your way to the pouch of coffee grounds, open it, and inhale the aroma, and Joel observes you as you do.
You begin to brew both of your coffee, making enough to fit two insulated tumblers. You make your way into the forest, already telling Joel you needed to pee, and him reminding you in his thick Texan accent, “If you don’t get your ass back here in five minutes, I’m comin' to look for you.” After finding a bush and relieving yourself, you stand by one of the tall thick trees, leaning your weight against the trunk of the tree and crossing your arms as you watch Ellie and Joel from a distance.
You close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself and your breathing, trying to recall parts of the game you’ve seen, a little peek at what could be adapted. Unfortunately, you knew the ending of the first and second games, and you knew there was nothing you could do for the first, but the second one however…
Joel yells your name, telling you to come back already and you jog your way back, not wanting to make them wait. No one says anything as you pack up camp and hop in the truck, this time letting Ellie sit in the passenger seat while you sit in the back. The engine of the truck revs to life and Joel drives you out of the woods and back onto the highway.
Joel takes a loud sip of his coffee while you are still blowing away the steam, Ellie doesn’t seem to be impressed with the drink as she comments, “Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” With one hand on the steering wheel, he lowers his thermos and retorts, “Well, theirs was a lot fresher than Bill saved up but, yeah, this is what they sold.” The young girl looks at it in disgust, “Smells like… burnt shit.” Joel wanting to be slightly petty, takes a long, loud, pointed sip of his coffee, before turning to Ellie saying, “Eyes on the map, or else I’m askin’ you to switch seats with Birdie.”
Your heart flutters at the nickname but you hide your smile by sipping your own coffee, looking out the window as you do. Ellie smirks knowingly at Joel but doesn’t push any further, she begins to give directions, “76 West, and then… 70 West for, like, ever. Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” And to your surprise, Joel indulges her, “Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody.” Ellie straightens the map to find the tower, “Cody. Cody… Cody. Man. That is deep up in there.” Joel glances then reply, “Yeah.” The young curious kid asks him, “And if he’s not there?” He thoughtfully sighs, “Then odds are he’ll be near a settlement probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of them in Wyoming.”
“Chee-Yen.” Ellie tries to pronounce it, and Joel corrects her, “Cheyenne.” She looks at him in disbelief, “Che… Really?” He nods as she goes on to trace her finger along the map, “Cheyenne, Laramie… Casper? What’s his name?” Joel then asks, “Whose name?” She throws back, “Your brother.” He grunts out, “Tommy.” You smile to yourself, knowing that tone of voice is him trying to build invisible walls around himself to protect whatever he has left of his family. “Younger or older?” Ellie persists, and he answers immediately, “Younger.”
“Why isn’t he with you?” She asked and you watch Joel try to evade her inquiry, “Long story.” Ellie never knowing when to give up, persists, “Is it longer than twenty-five hours? Because I think that’s what we got.” Joel looks at Ellie with a pointed stare, mouth slightly open ready to scold her but realizes she has a point. He glances at the rearview to see you looking back at him, waiting for his choice.
His eyes go back to the road as he speaks, “Tommy’s what we used to call a joiner. Dreams of becoming a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right out of high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm.”
Ellie turns to him quizzically but stays silent as he carries on, “It’s what they called that war. It doesn’t matter. Point is, being in the Army didn’t make him feel much of a hero. Cut to twelve years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group making their way up to Boston which I did, mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive.” He glances at the rearview mirror again and this time you aren’t staring back, you’re resting your head on the window, listening intently, “It’s where we met Tess.”
He takes a swig of his coffee before continuing, “And that whole crew, we… Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joining the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen.” Joel shakes his head in disapproval and his tone shifts into cynicism, “Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of them… delusional.”
You blink blankly and frown, not agreeing with his view but understanding where he’s coming from. His world ended when Sarah died, and since she’s gone he has no reason to go back to the way things were.
“‘Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies too. So now he’s on his own out there and… I gotta go get him.” He states and takes a long sip of the rest of his coffee, while Ellie tries to make sense of his story, another question pops into her mind as she quietly asks him, “If you don’t think there’s hope for the world why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?” A beat passes, and then he answers grimly, “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know. You keep going for family. That’s about it.”
Ellie moves her eyes to look at him, “I’m not family?” And he shakes his head, “No. You’re cargo.” Your form shrinks a little bit and think to yourself, and you secretly figure that Joel doesn’t mean that, but doesn’t want her treating him like a father yet.
You quietly exhale and will yourself to stop bouncing your leg up and down, grounding yourself. “And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.” Ellie nods before bringing up more possibilities, “What if you don’t find him?” It doesn’t take him long to reply, “I will.” She shoots back, “How do you know?” With a voice so sure and confident, he says, “I’m persistent.”
And you swore you saw him glance at you from the rearview mirror for a millisecond, but you weren’t so sure, you chalked it up to your wishful thinking. It was quiet for a bit before Joel speaks to Ellie, “You got up pretty early. If you wanna grab more sleep…” Ellie immediately replies, “Pfft. I’m not even tired.”
Ellie was in fact tired, after ten minutes of saying that, she fell into a deep sleep, and her snores echoed in the car. After two or three hours Joel pulls over at the side of the road, telling you to switch seats with Ellie since he needs help reading the map. You decided not to question it and got out of the truck as he did the same. You watched him quietly open the door, and carry Ellie from the passenger side to the back seat where he gently set her.
You climb into the passenger seat and wait for Joel to sit in the driver’s seat. The map was now on your lap and you gently traced the piece of paper, lines stretching out, with too many miles to count. Dots reminds you of where you’ve been, sometimes it feels like your inner compass breaks, and your steady true north fades. You try and reassure yourself it’ll be just fine, that whatever comes next, you’ll handle it together.
Joel quietly speaks your name so as to not disturb Ellie, you look up at him from the map, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the armrest console, “Tell me somethin’ good about your world.” He grumbles, and you stagger a bit before saying, “You actually believe what I said back then? You believe me?”
He shrugs with one shoulder and taps on the steering wheel, “There’s a fuckin’ apocalypse. My guess is that anythin’ could be possible now.” You lightly chuckle, “Yeah, I guess so.”
You stayed silent for a moment, trying to come up with an answer, any kind of answer, and you settle for the truth, “I don’t know. Besides the fact, we have no infected and our technology is more advanced, everything is still the same. Same landmarks, problems, the people hate the government but still need it, choosing the lesser of two evils and everyday people trying their damn best.”
He gruffly says to you, “Would prefer that over this shit.” You let out a huff, “Yeah, that’s valid.”
“Tell me about your home.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow, “Are you asking or demanding? Also, why are you suddenly so curious about me?” He’s unsure for a moment but he answers, “You already know stuff about me. It’s only fair.” Your lips form a line as you press them against each other, and your eyes shift to look at the map instead of him, “I thought you didn’t want to hear about any of our histories?”
“I think we broke that rule the moment Ellie kept askin’ about my life.” Your eyes wrinkle as you smile, “There isn’t much to say, and also I don’t really like talking about myself.” He harrumphs, “Why? You’re a scientist and incredibly smart.” You bring your eyes back to him and give him a look of disbelief, “Did you just say something nice?” His face sours and grumpily murmurs, “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Oh, I’m definitely telling Ellie later,” You smile teasingly at him, and he shakes his head, “So, what did you research, discover, or whatever?” And that question causes you to inhale through your nose deeply, “Um, in 2022 three scientists were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for experiments with entangled photons, establishing the violation of Bell inequalities and pioneering quantum information science. Basically, they got awarded for their research and I took an interest in what they found. I had a theory with what they discovered with quantum teleportation.”
Joel didn’t really understand the science jargon that was spitting out of your mouth so fast like lightning, but he was intrigued, “What was your theory?” You nervously removed the dirt from your fingernails as you replied, “It’s a little complicated.” He retorts, “I’m beginning to think that’s your favorite line.” You bite the inner walls of your cheek and exhale loudly through your nose. Joel senses you didn’t want to discuss it any further and the quiet returns. Only the muffled rumbling of the engine and the sound of the tires rolling on the pavement. The only occasional noise from the two of you was asking for directions from Joel and you giving him a prompt reply.
The hours go by quickly and the sun is beginning to set, the orange glow illuminating both of your faces. The truck begins to pull up to the outskirts of Kansas City and you silently pray that this will all go smoothly.
TLOU WORLD – 2023
KANSAS CITY - SUNSET
Ellie awakens shortly after you pull up to the tunnel and Joel slowly presses on the brakes to put the truck to stop. Joel turns off the engine and turns to you both before opening the door, “Stay put.” He grabs the rifle from the back and proceeds to scout the area. Ellie kindly asks to switch with you again and for a moment you almost decline, your gut feeling telling you something is wrong, but couldn’t resist the kid and again move to the back while she moves upfront.
Joel sees the tunnel to Kansas City is blocked by a SaraLee bread truck and you watch him make his way back to the truck. He opens the back door and places the rifle beside you and goes back to the driver's seat. “Where are we?” Ellie asks and he quickly replies, “Kansas City.” Ellie gives him the map and you lean over Joel’s shoulder to analyze the map, “How far back do we have to go to get around this?” The young girl questions and you watch Joel trace his finger along the many red lines. He shakes his head and sighs in frustration before deciding, “Screw it.” And he turns the key to start the truck up again. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks and Joel answers as he performs a three-point turn, “We can jog right around this tunnel take the next ramp and we’re back on the road, minute tops.” You look out the window and see the rusting cars and burned corpses of people, shuddering, you try and remember a portion of the game for some clue of what was about to happen. You weren’t in Pittsburgh, but the way this was adapted would still have the very important elements of the original intellectual property. Fuck.
Joel enters the city and it’s eerily quiet, you take note of the empty streets and zero signs of runners. “Where the fuck is the highway?” Joel states frustrated and Ellie retorts, “I can’t tell from this. I’m all turned around.” You hear him get irritated, “Don’t look at the state map. Look at the inset.”
“I don’t know where we are in that either! It’s my second day in a fucking car, man. I mean, I think we’re heading north?” Joel continues to drive and you keenly observe your surroundings and see something unusual, you spot a pile of ash and remains of people as he drives by. “It’s gotta be right. What the fuck?” He says and you try and voice your concerns, “Joel, there’s um,” but he quickly fires back, “Not now Birdie.” And you deflate a little but keep trying, “Joel, something is–” But Ellie yells out, “Stop!” The tires shriek as he steps on the breaks, and Ellie stares at something wide-eyed and you do too, “Is that the QZ?” The gates were wide open without a single FEDRA officer in sight and completely vacated, your mouth hangs open, “Shit.” Ellie presses on, “Where the fuck is FEDRA?” As if on queue, you hear someone yell, “Hey!” All three of your heads whip to the sound of the man’s voice, he’s clutching his lower abdomen and yelling out, “Please help!”
“Put your seatbelt on,” Joel demands and you and Ellie follow, you clutch on the assist grips above the car, knowing this isn’t gonna go well. “Aren’t we gonna help him?” Ellie asks innocently, “No.” You and Joel answer quickly, he floors it and the man moves out of the way screaming, “Fuck! Go… go!”
Ellie looks above and shrieks, “Joel!” And a cylinder brick falls from the sky, crashing atop the windshield glass, cracks, and fractures are created and you hear the tires pop, and you assume they’ve laid down spikes. You gritted your teeth as Joel tries to get control of the truck, and another man tries to shoot you all down, “Fuck!” Having no other options, he crashes the truck into an old laundromat, and the impact causes you to jerk forward, hitting your head slightly in the seat in front of you.
“Are you okay?” Joel worriedly questions, “Yeah.” Ellie replies and he turns to see you slightly bleeding from your head, “Hummin’ bird, you okay?” And you quickly compose yourself, “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” He then asks Ellie, “You’re not hurt? Nothing?” She shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”
The sound of gunfire cause the three of you to flinch and duck down for cover, Joel yells and commands, “Belts off. Fast!” And what he says goes, immediately you grab your pack and rifle from the backseat, the loud popping sounds of gunfire continue as you get out, and duck behind the truck. You toss Joel his rifle and you pull out your gun, you hear the taunts on the other side, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you’ll make it through this! We promise!”
Joel pulls off his safety and makes sure his rifle is loaded, he spots a hole in the walls of the laundromat and asks Ellie, “Hey, you see that hole? Can you squeeze through?” The gunfire doesn’t let up and she shakily nods, Joel realizes that time is running out before the enemy decides to push forward, he instructs Ellie while looking at her directly, “When I say go, you both crawl to that wall and you two squeeze through and you don’t come out until I say, okay?” You try and protest but the sound of another bullet swiftly breaks the class of the truck and all three of you flinch.
Your breathing quickens and you feel the adrenaline coursing through you, while Joel’s chest bounces up and down as he pants, “And they’re not gonna hit you.” But Ellie isn’t listening, too scared and afraid of all the chaos ensuing, Joel growls, “Look at me!” She twists her head and her wide doe eyes look at him, frightened and unsure, he reassures her, “They’re not gonna hit you. You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet.” Ellie nods reluctantly, “Mhm.” A pause during the gunfire, and you realize they’re reloading. “Okay.” He says and Ellie parrots to him, “Okay.” Joel takes that as his signal and yells to you both, “Go!” Ellie stays low and crawls through the wall, safe and secure for now. You however help Joel and shoot at the enemies. He yells your name, “What the fuck are you doing? I can handle this now go!” You shake your head and exclaim, “No! I can help you.”
He pulls you down, both of you crouching on the ground and cups one hand to hold your face, “Right now that kid is scared shitless and shouldn’t be alone.” You try again to object, but he stops you, “No, listen to me. Go through that hole and be with Ellie, she needs you.” You feel your eyes water and give him a sincere look, your voice breathy as you reply, “We both do.” His mouth parts and his eyes dart to your soft lips for just a second, so fast you almost missed it if your faces weren’t so close to each other, and at that moment your heartbeats were synchronized, and both of your breathing unsteady. Warmth fills you both and causes both of your eyes to dilate, similar to an eclipse.
Another gunshot rings out and it hits the cement on the ground, causing you to jump, Joel wipes away some of the dust on your cheek and intently says to you, “I’ve got this. I promise, now go.”
You blink back your tears and whisper, “Give 'em hell.” He stands up again to cover you while you crawl into the hole, to be with Ellie. Both of you have your back against the wall, and you try and steady your racing heartbeat.
“What about Joel?” She asks you, full of worry and concern. Instead of answering, you hug her close to you, and she buries her face on your stomach, as you try and shield her away from the noise and gunfire. Then there is a sudden silence, and you and Ellie take a peek from the hole in the wall, the sound of footsteps stepping over broke glass fills the space and you have your gun ready in one hand just in case and shield Ellie with your body.
He steps a bit closer to your hiding place and instantly there was a gunshot, you and Ellie turn away as you also held back a scream. Stillness fills the room and you try your best to listen for Joel to tell you to come out, only hearing him try and unjam his rifle. Then, the sudden slam of a door opening, and another loud pop could be heard. You hear grunts, groans, and yelling from the intruder and Joel, and Ellie urgently whispers, “We need to help him!”
You nod, and Ellie swiftly sidesteps you and climbs out of the hiding space and you go after her. You and her quietly step out and to your surprise, she’s holding her gun out, aiming directly at the unidentified man’s head, before you could even utter a word or try and stop her, she shoots him in the spine. Joel rolls over to the side coughing and wheezing as he tries to catch his breath. You gently approach Joel as he side-eyes Ellie but continues to cough, you begin first aid, loosen any tight clothing, remove the top button of his outer shirt and place your hand on his back to try and feel his lungs, and hear Ellie step a little closer to the man, her gun still aimed at him.
The man begins to plead, “No, no, no! It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over, we’re not fighting anymore.” Ellie doesn’t say anything and still has the gun pointed at him, “I’m gonna go home. I’ll tell everyone you’re good.” His face scrunches up and he begins to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work. My mom isn’t far if you can get me to her.”
Joel’s breathing returns to normal and you whisper, “You good?” And he only nods, angry and upset that he got caught off guard so easily. You help him up and hear the man still begging for his life, “We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan. I’m Bryan. What’s your name?” He continues to sob.
Joel looks at Ellie angrily, and she sniffs. He doesn’t say anything but holds out his hand and she hands him her gun which he places in his back pocket. Joel pulls out his revolver, slowly turns around, and Bryan continues to beg, “Wait… wait.” He pulls out a knife and says, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.” You stand next to Ellie and watch Joel lean down and pick up the knife. His eyes are dark with rage as he looks at you and Ellie, his voice deep and dominant that fills a warmth in your belly, “Get back behind the wall.”
Bryan instantly sobs, “No, no, no. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You slowly grab Ellie to gently coax her away, and she follows, Bryan screams for his life as you step back inside the hole. Ellie hugs your middle as she lets a single tear roll down her cheek, and you hug her right back, covering her ears from his yelling and pleading. You hear the slashing of a knife and the sound of blood splattering.
You try and calm Ellie and stroke her hair as you murmur reassuringly, “We’ll be just fine.” It was quiet for a second before you hear Joel’s booming voice calling you and Ellie, “I gotta get in there, I can’t fit through.” You wipe away her tears and gently pat her cheek, “We got this, yeah?” Ellie nods, “Mhm.”
You and her take a look around the room and Ellie yells out, “There’s some stuff against the door.” Joel is quick to reply, “Can you both move it?” You and Ellie nod at each other and work together to pull the table aside while Joel uses his arm to push the door open. He manages to get in and slams the door shut, “Let’s go. Fast.” He states and all three of you push the table back in its place. Joel looks at the both of you with concern, but Ellie quickly gets her bag and says, “I’m okay. I’m good.” You say nothing and also reach for your bag, quickly grabbing a bandaid from your first aid kit and then throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie approaches Joel and opens her pack, “I got some food in here still, and I got your light still.” He grabs it from her while you are on the side quietly and swiftly, placing a bandaid on your head, no time to disinfect it yet.
“What now?” Ellie asks, trying to be brave, and Joel observes her for a moment before saying, “We go up.” And she throws her back over her shoulders, “To get a better look?” You follow them both to a door and Joel responds, “Hopefully, we spot a clear route out.” He pushes the door open and clicks on the flashlight to check if it's safe, the only sound you could hear was the dripping of water from a leaky pipe, he turns to you both and says, “Stay close.” Ellie nods, “Got it.” Joel moves forward and Ellie and you follow him to a narrow alleyway. He has his revolver in one hand and you also have your gun out.
You three duck behind a rusted car, and you hear and spot multiple vehicles driving by. They were all armed, carrying various weapons and knives. Joel signals you two to wait and walks across to open a black door, he flicks on the flashlight and with one look, signals both of you to run across the street and into the next building.
You take cover and hide in a neglected bar, with newspapers covering the large windows. Joel peeks through the uncovered patches and watches the hunters pass by, searching different buildings. “They’re not FEDRA, and they’re not Fireflies. So who are they?” Ellie asks and Joel plainly states, “People.” You and Ellie are also looking through the small patches, she quietly asks, “Are we okay in here?”
“For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they’re checking apartment buildings first. But they’ll be coming through these places soon enough.” Joel says and walks away to stand away from the windows. And you decide to sit, choosing the floor by the door of the old bar, and tend to the wound on your head. Ellie is still looking through the small patches of glass, “There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away.” Joel’s voice is rough as he replies, “Yeah, saw it.”
“So that’s the one?” Ellie questions him, and he immediately answers, “As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move. Fast as we can.” Joel slowly sits down on the cushion and eyes you as you busy yourself disinfecting and cleaning up the blood on your head. Ellie sits down next to you, her knees close to her chest, and by now you’re done cleaning your wound and placing a new bandage on your head. Joel has his hand on his head, his face was expressionless and exhausted. Ellie asks you and him the same question, “Are you okay?” You nod and Joel replies with, “I’m all right.” He struggles with the debrief but he gets the question out to Ellie, “Are you all right?” And she simply replies with, “Yeah.”
You watch Joel struggle to find the words to express his emotions and feelings, his reserved nature is slowly crumbling, brick by brick. He shakes his head, “Thing is, is I didn’t hear that guy coming, and… You shouldn’t have to… You know.” Ellie brings her eyes to look at him, “Well, you’re glad I did, right?” She said. His voice falters, “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t know what it means to… It’s not like you killed him. But… shooting or… I know what it’s like the first time that you hurt someone like that.” The young girl says nothing and simply stares at him in silence. He tries again, “If you… I’m not good at this.”
“Yeah, you really aren’t.” Ellie says, and if it wasn’t so somber, if you were safely at home watching this, you would have laughed. You wonder if you should say something, but eventually figured that you needed to let them both bond and understand each other, it’s important to their story. While you believed your presence here was an accident. You push aside your feelings and stress to let them talk it out.
“I mean it was my fault. You shouldn’t have had to… and I’m sorry.” Joel sighs and looks away at Ellie, and begins to cry silently with her face turning red, you let her lean her head on your shoulder and it’s quiet. She goes to speak but her throat closes up, “It wasn’t my first time.” Joel looks at her after that to see her pure raw honesty.
Joel plays the idea in his head for a moment before coming to a decision, he reaches into his back pocket for the handgun he took from Ellie earlier, unloads the magazine, and removes the shell of the previous bullet from the chamber. The girl's head lifts from your shoulder as Joel kneels down on one knee in front of her, handing her the gun back, “Show me your grip.” Ellie does as she’s told and you watch Joel teach her the proper way to hold a firearm, “Finger off the trigger.” She holds it with one hand and Joel is unimpressed, “Now, who taught you that?” She mumbles in reply, “FEDRA school.” He nods his head, “Figures.”
Joel teaches her how to hold the gun with two hands, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand, squeezes down on the right. You got it?” She nods, her thumbs interlocked, which makes it harder to drop the gun when it recoils or if someone were to try and grab it. Joel holds both of her tiny hands in his calloused rough ones, “There you go. Look it.” He shakes it and the gun doesn’t budge, completely steady. She giggles as he tries again and you smile, Joel then says, “Okay?” While Ellie nods, seemingly happy, he gestures to her to give him the gun and he loads the magazine back in the gun and then hands it back to her.
Ellie takes it and as she is about to place it in her back pocket, Joel stops her, “Nuh-uh. You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.” He groans a little as he stands up again and you give Ellie a high-five and she laughs again. Joel walks to your side and this time it’s your turn, he kneels in front of you and you’re wide-eyed. He gently brushes away some of your hair and checks on your wound, you feel his fingertips graze along the plaster of your band-aid. Lightly, you touch his wrist and say, “I’m fine. Promise.”
None of you move for a bit, but then he slowly pulls away and stands to remove the wooden planks boarded up on the door, you also get up to help him. He holds on to the door handle and sighs, “We’ll get through this.” Ellie blinks once and then nods, “I know.” A beat passes and he pulls open the door, you and Ellie following him out into the setting sun of the city.
OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT
The midnight blue covers the sky, the stars shine above you, and see the moon glimmer. You three find the side of the building but find the service door to be locked. You look above and point out a vent, Joel nods and turns to Ellie. Taking notice that Joel is this close to passing out on the ground after all the events that have happened, staying up all night to protect the both of you, driving for almost thirteen hours to get to Kansas City, and shooting a bunch of hunters. You offer to boost Ellie up to reach the vent, “Here, put your foot on my hand and then… One, two…”
“Oh shit.” She curses and you reassure her, “It’s okay, I got you.” And she manages to push open the vent and climb inside, “Okay I’m in.” And Joel decides to give out instructions, “Take a look around first. Ellie.” But she doesn’t reply, he harshly whispers, “Goddamn it.” And you say to Joel, “Just give her a second.” And a moment later, Ellie swings the door wide open, “Where would you be without me, huh?” Joel frowns, “By now, Wyoming.” You smack his shoulder, which does absolutely nothing. He glances at you and you stare back, he then walks forward into the building as Ellie takes it in stride. “Oh, yeah. Walked into that one.” The door slams closed behind you three and you take out your own flashlight to click it open.
All three of your footsteps echo around the building, while lights from your flashlights moved about the space. A minute later you see the door to a staircase that leads to the rooftop, you all walk over to it and Joel says, “All right, we’ll make our way up, and come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.” He pushes the door open, and it squeaks as he does, shining the light in one hand and his revolver in the other, checking the dark area to make sure there’s no threat.
He walks straight while you and Ellie trail along, “We’re going up forty-two flights?” She groans, and Joel adds, “Forty-five.” The door behind you closes and you shine your flashlight to the ceiling, looking at the seemingly never-ending staircase. “But no. Not all the way.” He says, and Ellie asks, “How far?” Joel takes a breath, “As far as I can make it.” You and Ellie giggle at him and follow right behind the grump, footsteps sounding on the concrete steps of the building as you make your way up each floor.
After twenty flights of stairs, Joel is gripping the hand railing, slightly winded already, you are trying to manage your breathing with all the cardio, while Ellie is only lightly panting, she takes an opportunity to ask a question, “Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt? How did you know it was an ambush?” Joel stops before the next landing and catches his breath, “I’ve been on both sides. It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.”
“You and Tess?” She asked, and he nods, “And the people we were with. My brother too.” He looks up to check how many more to go, while Ellie can’t help herself, “Did you kill innocent people?” He turns to look at her with an unreadable expression, but doesn’t answer her question, “Come on.” But already you both already knew the answer, and still followed him anyways.
It’s a few minutes later and Joel pushes the fire exit door open and holds it out for you and Ellie to walk through. “Holy shit.” Ellie curses and Joel leans on the wall, “Yeah.” And slides down the wall completely exhausted. You are soaked with sweat and trying to catch your breath, using one hand to lean on the door as it closes by itself. “Thirty-three floors. That’s good.” The young girl comments, and you hear Joel wheeze, “It’s gonna have to be.”
Ellie makes her way over to him and kicks his boot, “Come on.” And holds out her small hand, Joel groans, “Give me a minute.” But Ellie doesn’t agree, “Get up, you lazy ass.” That does it, he grips his hand with hers and helps him up, while you finally got enough oxygen back into your system. Joel grits his teeth, “Lazy ass. Fifty-six years old, you little shit.” Ellie giggles and you smile wide and continue to trail after him.
Joel grabs a fire extinguisher to break through the glass of one of the office doors, the sharp sound of glass shattering rings throughout the room, and Joel reaches in to shake the handle open.
You and Ellie prepare to sleep, and you realize that there aren’t enough cushions for the three of you. Joel scatters glass on the ground as Ellie sits on her makeshift bed, and calls out his name as you sit cross-legged on the carpet, silently contemplating sleeping on the floor. He doesn’t hear Ellie the second time, too busy dumping out the glass.
But the third time she yells out his name he finally turned, “What?” He grudgingly says, and she asks him pointedly, “What are you doing?” And replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t want someone sneaking up on us while we’re sleeping.”
He puts the bucket down and Ellie realizes what he meant, “Oh, I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch…” He walks over to the couch cushions on the floor and Ellie questions him, “Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?” Joel takes offense to her asking him that, “Of course, I’ll hear it. That’s the damn point.” Ellie leans back, “Okay. Well, good night.” And he gives a small, “Yeah, goodnight.”
You prepare to sleep on top of your backpack and Joel says your name, “What are you doing?” You turn your head to him and swallow, “Um, there’s not enough cushions. It’s okay though, I’ve slept on the floor before.” His eyebrows furrow and he huffs, “You sleep on mine then.” You shake your head, “Joel, you stayed up late, floored it all the way to Kansas City, fought three hunters, and then walked up thirty-three flights of stairs. You’re literally fifty-six and wheezing. You’re exhausted, so it’s okay, you can have it.”
Joel places his hands on his hips as he stares down at your figure, “That isn’t right though, you’re equally as tired and you got injured earlier. So take the damn bed.” He argues, this was slowly going to become a full-on debate that could have lasted till the morning, but Ellie butts in, “Why don’t you guys just share?” Immediately, your eyes go wide, and feel your face grow warm. You begin to stutter as you try and explain to her why that would be inappropriate, “Um, Ellie… I don’t think that’s—”
“Fine.” You hear him say and your head quickly turns to look at Joel, almost giving you a whiplash as you did. You blink wildly at him and shakily say, “You don’t need to–” He gives you no chance to finish your sentence, “I said fine. Do you want to share or not?” Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell is happening? He didn’t just offer that, did he? Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, not knowing how to act or find the right words for this. You take a deep inhale and try not to stumble over your words as you stared into his dark chocolate-brown eyes, “Are you… sure?”
He nods and gestures to you to lay down, you pinch your lips and swallow away your nerves and climb atop the cushions, using your own jacket as a pillow. Joel quietly does the same and faces the opposite of you. You bring your hands to your mouth, they’re slightly trembling as you try and calm your racing heart. Ellie is looking at you with a smirk, that cheeky little shit, she’s playing matchmaker. You mouth out the words, “Fuck you.” Which causes her to grin wider, happy with what she’s accomplished.
“Hey.” Joel's voice is deep and low from behind you, and you raise your eyebrows at Ellie, she replies, “Yeah?” He proceeds to ask, “When we were talking about hurtin’ people, what did you mean it wasn’t your first time?” You give Ellie a sad smile knowingly, the places may have changed, but at its core, the story stayed the same. She changes her position to lay flat on her back and stares at the ceiling, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He doesn’t push her and settles, “All right.” After a second he rolls over to his left and lifts his head up, to look at Ellie, you are now inches apart from him brushing his hand on your waist, he tells the kid, “You don’t have to. I’m just saying… it isn’t fair, your age having to deal with all of this.”
Ellie looks to the both of you, “So it gets easier when you get older?” You snort, “God, no.” And Joel shakes his head, “No. Not really. But still.” Ellie doesn’t say anything back to him for a bit, and he sighs, you feel his breath along the back of your neck, causing your spine to shiver at the sensation. “The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not, is because Miss Birdie and I have noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it ‘cause you were shot there?”
“Probably more from shootin’. So if you wanna keep your hearing, you stick to that knife.” He says and lays back down again, rolling back over to his right side and closing his eyes, Ellie says both of your names and you look at her, waiting, “Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” He glances over his shoulder, “What?” And Ellie continues, “Yeah. It runs in your jeans.”
You didn’t know if your humor was broken, or if you were traumatized, or just exhausted, but you giggled with her and hear Joel whisper, “Jesus.”
He shakes his head, and you and Ellie continue to giggle, “That is so goddamn stupid.” But Ellie points out, “You laughed, motherfucker.” You hear the smile in his voice, “I didn’t laugh.” The kid throws back at him, “Yes, you did.” And you agree with her, “Yeah, you most certainly did, cowboy.”
He mumbles, “Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” and you loudly agree, “Yep, you are and so am I.”
And then his invisible walls came down and allowed himself to be vulnerable, to laugh at Ellie’s stupid joke. Finally, letting his baggage down, if he was being honest, he was so tired of being afraid, and this feeling of weightlessness felt like euphoria. Your cheeks rise to meet your eyes and lines appear as you smile, listening to both of their laughter. Though the storms will push and pull, you three are slowly beginning to form a home. The years, while they were here, haven’t been so kind, but the melody of laughter reminds you to keep your heart open wide. Slowly finding the strength and the nerve it takes to keep going because you know what lies beneath is the greatest thing you have. To trust that there will be light always waiting behind even in the darkest of nights. Somehow you will all be okay.
OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – A FEW HOURS INTO THE NIGHT
You feel something heavy and warm draped over your waist, and your head resting on something firm beneath your head. You hear Ellie yell out both of your names in urgency and blink your eyes open to find yourself wrapped up in arms, with your head on his chest. You take a deep inhale, turn your head slightly, and tap Joel awake, his eyes open, alert and confused, to see Ellie kneeling on the cushions with her hands up and Henry pointing a gun at her head. Shit.
And you both turn to look in front of you, a little boy, Sam, with orange paint on his face resembling a superhero mask, pointing a gun at you both, he brings his pointer finger to his lips, indicating for you to be quiet. Joel tries to shield you from the boy, covering your figure with his large frame, gripping your waist so tight, and breathing through his nose heavily. You feel a little paralyzed, as you can’t help but watch the train wreck about to happen right in front of you.
Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter
END NOTES:
This was probably one of the most difficult chapters to write because of all the technicalities and this episode was definitely more centered around Ellie and Joel’s relationship so I didn’t want the reader to completely overshadow that
HHEHEHEHE ONE BED TROPE
The moment I watched that episode, I immediately thought, I’m writing a one-bed trope (idk if i got it right tho lol I tried to make it realistic??)
I had to cut a huge ass important memory from the reader but decided again it's TOO SOON also it wouldn’t add anything to the plot so I’ll add that in later
My bad for taking too long to finish this chapter, it was the most intimidating episode for me to write, the loss of innocence is also the main theme of this part of the show, and my experiences with losing innocence are WAY DIFFERENT so it proved it harder to write about
You can see Joel slowly giving in and opening up to both you and Ellie
Tbh, to me, this is one of the more mediocre chapters I’ve written thus far but I can’t seem to edit it anymore T^T
Ellie absolutely adores you and 100% looks up to you hehe (Also she definitely wants you to get with her father figure)
cAN SOMEONE UPDATE ME IF THEY WERE AT A TRUCK STOP OR GAS STATION BCS I’ve read sO MANY DAMN ARTICLES trying to figure out what it was and I just settled for a truck stop T^T
Thank you, guys, so much for all your kind questions, comments, and feedback aHHH IT TRULY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME
Lastly, this is the last call for the taglist before I close it!
OKAY BYE OFF TO EPISODE 5 I GO WRITE HNGGGG
- Grace
TAGLIST:
@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe
Edit: Sorry for the notif twice! The taglist completely bonked itself :,)
#uneven odds joel miller#unevenoddstaglist#uneven odds#unevenodds#joel miller x reader series#joel miller x poc!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x modern reader#joel miller x reader au#joel miller x reader tlou#tlou rewrite#tlou remake#tlou series#joel miller x reader masterlist#joel miller x reader series masterlist#ethereal writes
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Crowley, Aziraphale, and the art of boundaries.
Look. They love and care about each other, but they are also the only two celestial beings on earth and thus each other's only option when it comes to friendship and relationships. Humans die very quickly by their standards, and if they do not want to be alone for six millennia, well, they only have one person to ask for company.
From the get-go, this dynamic is everything but ideal. It automatically creates a certain emotional dependence since you go to one person with all your emotional and social needs, and no matter how much you love someone, you cannot fulfil all their needs - and you shouldn't have to try!
They are individuals and have their own life separate from the other for the first couple centuries, but after Job at the latest, their lives become incredibly intertwined. When they agree on the arrangement, they only deepen that dependence, and now they have the additional pressure of needing to keep the other safe from both sides.
Crowley quite literally orbits Aziraphale, all the while trying to help him realize that heaven is using him and not what he thinks it is, yet he knows if he pushes too much, he will not just be alone but lonely.
Aziraphale is a stable centre of gravity for Crowley and himself, but he takes Crowley's presence and their push-pull dynamic for granted. He does not want to be lonely either, but he is so good at creating an internal system of cognitive dissonance and compartmentalization that he can hold two contradictory beliefs at the same time. This leads to him refusing to listen to Crowley on any matters related to their respective sides or morality, while also believing that Crowley is fundamentally good and should not have been cast out.
Crowley pushes, Aziraphale steps back, Crowley pushes some more until Aziraphale either finds some twisted internal logic that allows him to do the thing or he lets out his frustration of not being able to do the thing on Crowley, blaming it all on him "tempting" Aziraphale into it in the first place.
This game works when the subject does not matter too much, when it's about food or drinking together or small favours as part of the arrangement. It's not super healthy, but largely without consequence when it is mostly playful.
However, and here is the "but", it stops working when the subject IS important.
When it is about their safety, about humanity's or a few specific human's safety, when it's such an important topic that the outcome will affect both their lives forever - like the apocalypse or Jimbriel.
Crowley wants to keep Aziraphale out of harm's way first and foremost, and for that he needs to be helping him with whatever is threatening him. The problem is that whenever he disagrees with Aziraphale, the angel turns into a five-year-old and starts either manipulating Crowley into agreeing with him or goes off to sulk.
Crowley cannot risk that, not when it's important. So what does he do? The only thing he CAN do, which is ignore his boundaries, ignore his ideals and wants and needs, and do what Aziraphale wants.
Over and over and over and over again.
Aziraphale does not care about that. He does not care about what Crowley wants or doesn't want when he thinks that HIS wants are the correct and more important ones.
The most obvious proof for that is Aziraphale calling Crowley kind/nice.
"Don't call me that," is what Crowley has been telling him LITERALLY since fucking Eden. A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. Aziraphale knows hell punishes him for good deeds, but does that stop him? NO.
"Don't call me that," he says, every. single. time.
And every single time, Aziraphale decides that no, he wants to tell him that so he will, fuck what Crowley wants, my desire is more important.
Fuck that he hates to hear about forgiveness, I want to tell him that sentence so I will.
Fuck that he told me over and over that he hates being compared to the angel he was, I will keep doing it because I want to; I will keep bringing up the fact that he is an evil, bad demon and I am a pure, good, kindhearted angel.
Fuck that Crowley has never lied to me once, I want to lie to him, to his face, so I will.
Fuck our friendship, I will say disgusting, vile, and hurtful things to his face and then never apologize; instead I will wait for him to crawl back to me and say sorry because he always does.
Fuck the fact that I am the one who screwed up, I will pressure Crowley into doing the apology dance because I cannot admit that I'm wrong, fuck what he thinks.
Fuck that he told me he doesn't want to let me drive the Bentley, I will pressure and manipulate him until he gives me the keys and then change the car without permission and then throw a pity party when he asks me to change it back.
Fuck that Crowley is terrified of Gabriel, memory loss or not, I will make fun of his concern and then force him to babysit him.
Fuck Crowley's idea for getting Nina and Maggie together, I will ignore him and instead force a bunch of humans into a non-consensual roleplay because I say so.
Fuck whatever Crowley suggests, I want to do it my way and I expect him to follow me without question.
Fuck that Crowley wants to tell me something important and asked me to listen, I will ignore every single verbal and non verbal sign of discomfort and make decisions for him without asking what HE wants.
Fuck Crowley - unless he does what I want.
I do not believe that Aziraphale does it out of malice, a lot of it is a trauma response, but he still CHOOSES to do it. He still CHOOSES to behave that way, to treat Crowley like that, and unless he starts holding himself accountable, they will not get anywhere, love or no love.
Crowley's choices are either going along with Aziraphale and ignoring his boundaries, or being alone on earth for the rest of his infinite existence. Those are his choices, and the second one isn't really a choice, is it? It's fucked up and horrible, so yeah, going along with him is the only thing he can realistically do.
So, no. I do not want Crowley to take him back. For the first time in their existence, Crowley has set a boundary, put himself first, and refuses to cross it for anyone, including Aziraphale. He had the RIGHT to do that. It was this or being destroyed by heaven. Those were his options, and he chose what he wants, what he needs - not what Aziraphale wants, who is still not fucking listening to him.
What I want is for Aziraphale to realize how horribly he has been treating Crowley for centuries, apologize, and then shut up. What I want is for Crowley to learn that his wants and needs are important, that he is allowed to put himself first, and that allowing Aziraphale to walk all over him has damaged their relationship, not improved it. That he CAN expect Aziraphale to respect him, and if he doesn't, then it is his right to not want to be around him.
I want Aziraphale to get out of heaven's claws and start recovering, and I want Crowley to keep recovering.
I want both of them to get to a point where they can have a healthy relationship with boundaries and mutual respect; it is not a fairy tale ending, and I don't want it to be one.
Love is not enough. Love is never enough.
I want them to be happy, healthy, and together, and to get there, they both need to grow separately for a while. They're both complex, deeply flawed characters, neither of them is good or evil, and that's the point.
That has always been the point.
#alex talks good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable divorce#good omens meta
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"The End of the World is a Product".
I don't normally make....any posts, but the Fallout show, and some of the response to it has me wanting to actually put some words down here. There will be spoilers for the Fallout show if you want to avoid that.
Several people whose opinion I respect a lot have their own thoughts on the show, Amazon making it, and general disappointment with where Fallout as an IP has gone in the several decades it has existed. I agree with a lot of these statements and think that Fallout peaked with New Vegas, and Bethesda's ownership and usage of the IP has been uninspired at best.
That said, I did watch the show. And generally, I liked it. I have some complaints (like, wtf if the Brotherhood even doing? Who is really in charge? The writers *blew up* the NCR, just like that? For....some reason?) The main thing I have an issue with, is the dissonance between the message of the show, and the company that made it.
I think the parts that really made the show were Coop's flashbacks to before the war. I love his character, so much. And from Coop, The Ghoul, I get my dissonance.
We see him interacting with general Hollywood. It's basically the same as ours. Despite what Some People(tm) will say, Hollywood is a tool of the United States Machine. An extension of the country's will. Coop is making a cowboy movie, one of many he has made. He expresses being uncomfortable with his new movie's seeming obsession with killing, not wanting his character to kill the villain when he is begging for his life. The director tells him "people want to see a good man pushed too far." We see later, after the war, Coop made the movie the way the director wanted.
Coop's wife works in marketing, or something like it, for Vault-Tec. Coop likes the idea of the Vaults at first. Save people from the end of the world. Good stuff, thinks Coop. He was in the Marines, fought at Anchorage. He believes in protecting people and his country. So when his wife asks him to do an ad for Vault-Tec, he says yes.
Very quickly, he leaves making movies, and basically now works for Vault-Tec. Has a big party, invites a bunch of his friends, and only one of his acting friends shows up. Says everyone else declined on moral grounds, because they don't like Vault-Tec, and all the other mega corporations working with them or around the world. Coop's friend mentions he sold his voice/a character he created to the company that makes Mr. Handy's, and how everyone and everything is a product now, and embracing that is the only way to make money anymore. "You're a product, I'm a product, the end of the world is a product."
Coop later meets one of his acting friends, Charles Whiteknife, to talk about the party and why he didn't go. Charles brings up Vault-Tec, the mega corporations, and "Fiduciary Responsibility". I never, ever, in my mind would think a Fallout show, executive produced by "Thanks" Todd Howard, would bring that up.
Charles lays it out for Coop: Vault-Tec makes money selling Vaults. If they want to make money, then everyone's fear of the end of the world is really what is for sale. The end of the world is the product.
So no peace talks to calm down the war between the US and China. No safe feeling. They need fear. They want to make money, so you cannot feel safe. We see a prelude at Coop's earlier party: two Vault-Tec executives are talking about heading off those exact peace talks before anything definite is done so quarterly profits go up. Even the president is mentioned as missing, but that could be a kidnapping or a reference to the Enclave.
Coop doesn't want to believe that. Why would his wife work there if that was the case?
We see, as the flashbacks go on, how much she knows, but won't give away. She needs her job so her family can get into "one of the good Vaults". Coop ends up spying on a meeting between his wife, a Vault-Tec exec, and a bunch of major corporations and private entities. A nice cameo set up for big fans. We see West-Tek, Big MT, ROBCO, all of them. Vault-Tec wants them to buy into the Vaults, so they can make money.
So they can control the end of the world.
They think a total monopoly in the post-apocalypse will save the world from war.
Then the real reveal: Vault-Tec, in order to make guarantees on their experimental Vaults, and to make guarantees to the investors, is going to drop the bomb. Maybe not all of them, but definitely start the Great War.
Because it will make them money now, and when the world is over, they can rule over the ashes with a gaggle of experimented-on, traumatized survivors, brainwashed to do what they want, and led by the preserved executives that helped end the world.
"Well, thanks for the spoilers, RedSparrow, but what is the point?"
Well, when people write about the future, like George Orwell did in 1984, or Ray Bradbury in Fahrenheit 451, or even Suzanne Collins in Hunger Games, they weren't really writing about the future. They were writing about the problems they dealt with in their present, exaggerated to make them stand out.
"What happens when the cattle ranchers own half the town?" Charlie Whiteknife asks Coop when they meet at the bar.
"The town burns down."
"Exactly. The ranchers are in charge now."
This isn't really new stuff for Fallout, if you have played any of the games beyond 3,4, or 76. (Hell, 76 tries to act like Vault-Tec are the good guys for some stupid ass reason.)
We now live in that moment. Maybe we didn't when Fallout 1 came out, or maybe it was easier to hide then. At this point, it's nearly impossible to really ignore, and anyone saying that is incorrect or a good thing is just burying their head in the sand to avoid the truth.
Maybe we don't have Vaults, or Vault-Tec, but we have Amazon, selling us everything and grinding employees to dust on vague promises of earning a living.
We have our own ROBCO, and the CEO of our version of ROBCO bought Twitter because his ex left him for a trans woman and is currently trying to sell losers online his idea of a sex bot and shitty cars that rust and explode.
We have social media monopolies that live off of hate-engagement and spreading fear. Hell, the US government is banning social media platforms they can't control, and privatizing things like internet access through Starlink. Elongated Muskrat tried to cut off Ukraine's access to it after one of their generals told him to shut up and stop sucking up to Russia.
None of this is new. I'm probably sounding like your weird boomer uncle online right now.
But your weird boomer uncle doesn't think they will end the world.
But they will.
So here's the dissonance I struggle with: why is Amazon, one of the many companies enshitti-fying everything right now, making a show that tells you the plan?
It's easier to imagine the end of the world, than it is to imagine the end of capitalism, so the saying goes.
But the end of the world is the plan of capitalism. That's the end goal.
And it's wild to me that the Fallout show, made by Amazon, is the one telling us this.
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Hi, so I need to find out if this is just a me thing, but the McQueen 2024 Spring ready to wear collection is nice and a good collection, but it doesn't feel on brand for McQueen?
I'm not sure, I just sort of feel like it is missing a sort of punk feel that I usually associate with McQueen.
(I will admit that I am more familiar with his actual work than what came after his death, so it could just be a dissonance thing on my end)
Sorry for the weird ask lol
It’s on brand for Alexander McQueen as a fashion house rather than the designer himself and what he initially created. He was a visionary and an artist and that reflected in his fashion that turned the fashion world on its head when he was alive. When Sara Burton took over as the creative director of Alexander McQueen after his death in 2010 she didn’t try to emulate him because no one could.
What she has done for the brand in the last 13 years is celebrate Alexander McQueen but with her own creative style. The punk era might not be at the forefront anymore but the exquisite tailoring that McQueen was known for is definitely there along with the colour pallet and patterns that were used during the height of McQueen’s fame as a designer.
The Spring 2024 Ready-to-Wear collection though is more a celebration of Sara Burton and her 26 years at Alexander McQueen as she’s decided to step down as creative director and leave the fashion brand for a new venture. However it’ll be interesting to see what the new creative director Seán McGirr brings to Alexander McQueen in the future.
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FMA is a weird, special case study in the limitations and pitfalls of the way fandoms create bodies of work.
The trends and tropes of fanwork tend to focus on individual character relationships-- how characters feel about each other, with little or no emphasis on the broader context of those feelings. In a setting with low stakes or simple politics, this is fine. This is why I think AUs that sand off the edges of worldbuilding are so popular. They skip the more difficult foundational Stuff in favor of a quicker, and I would argue much less impactful, catharsis.
The relationships (friendly, antagonistic, familial, romantic, sexual, some combination of these,) are primary in fandom, and everything surrounding them is just set dressing that exists in service to the characters being centered.
In a vacuum, this is generally Fine. Is it intellectually rigorous? No, usually not, but not all art needs to be. Chicken nuggets are perfectly fine with a well balanced diet.
BUT,
This is also how we end up with decades of fanworks that tastelessly recycle a genocide that is foundational to FMA's canon lore into "that thing that makes Roy and Riza sad, sometimes." The "because they did it" is usually in fine print off to the side, unexamined and unacknowledged for the weight it ought to reasonably carry. It's just Angst Set Dressing.
FMA is in no small part about how the people who do the worst things that we can conceive of are still people. "Humanization" is often taken with the assumption that sympathy is being demanded of the viewer, but it is, in truth, just a reflection of reality. People who condone, uphold, and carry out systemic violence are people. This is an important message to internalize for those who are privileged under violent systems. The violent actor is not some mysterious Other. They could be someone you look up to. They could be you.
This is why it's thematically important that Ed gets kicked out of an inn for flashing his watch, which to him, until that point, was an all-access pass. This is why the conclusion of his character arc is that his choices do not exist in a vacuum, even though his privilege offers him the chance to pretend that they do. This is why it's thematically satisfying for Roy to not become the Fuhrer, but to kill him. This is why it really isn't all that surprising that AU Hughes is a Nazi.
FMA03 does not allow the viewer to conveniently disengage with the fact that its protagonists and the people they look up to operate in support an apartheid state. This is literally what the show is about.
Fandom, meanwhile, is almost exclusively about disengaging from that discomfort. This is partially why, back when I was more active in talking about this series and its characters, many people took my pointing out this dissonance as a personal attack. This is why fandom, for all its noise-making about being an escapist counter-culture, is overwhelmingly white. We self-select for it, driving out Black and brown and indigenous voices who object to this willful disengagement from the themes deemed too Icky and Difficult to be meaningfully addressed in our fan works. "It's just shipping, why are you Starting Discourse?" or "I just like these characters and don't like those ones, it's not that deep."
Fandom is deeply averse to critical thought. This will never not feel like a bizarre contradiction to me, but there isn't a nice way to paint it. I know I'm not saying anything new, but the unique manifestation of it in my corner of the internet feels like a case study for why mashing barbies together isn't devoid of context, no matter how hard a given author or artist tries to make it so.
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they might be giants - they'll need a crane
this is a classic. the tallahassee song that was never on tallahassee and wasnt written by the mountain goats (a category it shares with quick! by the magnetic fields). it's so darkly funny, TMBG have really mastered the art of these jaunty good-time tunes that create a wonderful tragic dissonance with the subject matter.
will also take this opportunity to plug the cover of this song by the wrens because one of my gfs is always raving about it and her music taste is good and she's right.
rating: 9/10
favourite lyric: 'and there's a restaurant we should check out where the other nightmare people like to go / i mean nice people—baby, wait, i didn't mean to say nightmare'
[song ask game]
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Summer from Mountain Glen backstory would also fit with Salem's recruitment pattern. Hazel -> Gretchen. Watts -> Penny project chosen. Cinder -> Glass Unicorn. A concrete reason for dissatisfaction with the system, albeit some (Watts) pettier than others. Mountain Glenn which were buried and commute blocked off. Yeah that would definitely qualify.
Small thing - apparently from Grimm Eclipse there's one voice line from Yang that amounts to "It must have been nice here once" - though I can't find the source of that quote. Which if Summer was from Mountain Glenn holds a completely different impact as a statement from a survivor's daughter decades later.
as the resident Watts Defender i feel obliged to trot out watts was from mantle again, ’cause i think greenlighting the penny project was more the thousandth cut in a death-by-a-thousand cuts situation; esp. because i don’t think being pissed about the penny project is all that petty, given the context of ironwood challenging this team to come up with “the next breakthrough in defense technology” and then picked the proposal for [checks notes] a costly prototype robotic child super-soldier that requires the partial surgical removal of someone’s literal soul to function and can therefore never be built more than once, let alone manufactured at scale. like imagine being watts.
ironwood: we need to innovate to remove men from the dangers of the battlefield, so i want all of you to come up with a proposal for the next big breakthrough in defense technology.
watts probably: okay well, our combat AI is still too rudimentary to let the synthetic soldiers fight unsupervised, so i’ve designed a heavily-armored walking tank that can run faster than a car and jump dozens of feet into the air in order to keep our living officers safe on the front lines while dramatically improving our offensive capabilities against hordes of grimm.
pietro: i think we should carve out a piece of my soul and put it in a robot to create one (1) nigh-indestructible synthetic super-soldier who we’ll design to look like an atlas academy student.
ironwood: i pick the robot girl :)
like are you joking.
we don’t know for certain that the paladins were watts’ proposal but that does seem to be the implication and like—if that’s so then ironwood held on to that proposal for years after watts faked his death and eventually put ’em into production as the penny project neared completion, which… tracks with “you just stood atop it and called yourself a giant.” in the face of such egregious favoritism and interest in technological spectacle and novelty over practical solutions i’d probably quit in disgust too!
/tangent
but yeah summer being a mountain glenn survivor is intriguing enough that i’m a little regretful i didn’t think of it before nailing down her backstory for time does this adlscfj—although not enough to scrap my plans for it lmfao—it puts a real face on this historical tragedy that has been kind of looming silently over the story. and the face is the character who’s haunting the narrative from her secret place as salem’s general. very juicy.
oobleck looks at mountain glenn and sees lives that could have been saved—why weren’t they? what motivated the inaction, the choice to cut mountain glenn off, leave people to fend for themselves in the undercity? what kept people there, living in caverns with grimm nesting over their heads, rather than evacuate to vale? (your so-called free world.)
if that was summer’s childhood and she escaped and got taken in by the huntsmen academy system, raised in these values, how might she feel about vale? about beacon? about herself as a huntress? how sharply might she feel the dissonance between what huntsmen are supposed to be and the sacrifice of mountain glenn? is that what drove her to confront salem, a determination to not be complicit through her inaction? is that why she chose to stay? etc.
it also adds some really interesting potential layers to summer holding beacon and presumably participating in the razing of vale. like is this something she has enough moral qualms about to give her pause or is it an act of long-delayed retribution to her. juicy!
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I'm reading The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere and I don't know if there's a name for this style of prose, but I love it. You have this winding explanation about the sun's creation, why the sun was important to humans, how in this new world humans recreated the sun in both form and function, and how this lamplight is sometimes rejected by a person's body. Each paragraph's content is distinct, but its purpose seems fully expository until you reach the succinct end--our main character has rationalized that they prefer rainy weather because of this lamp-rejection phenomena and, returning to the present-story, is walking pleasantly in it. Su even humorously muses that she may simply prefer the rain because she's gloomy, rendering the entire explanation irrelevant.
It reminds me of those meandering stories you only realize are jokes once the teller reaches the snappy punchline, but with more crafty worldbuilding.
Text of the passage is under the readmore
Once, before the final days of the Iron Epoch and the collapse that followed, the old world had orbited a local star referred to as the 'Sun'. A massive ball of plasma fueled by the hydrogen fusion process spat out of a molecular cloud at some point in the foggy distant past of the universe, it had been a major part of the cosmological miracle that had given birth to life, and, later, the cosmological disaster called the human race.
Like the majority of land-based life, mankind had evolved to depend upon the sun in a variety of ways, both as a mechanism to regulate behavior - sleep patterns - and as an agent to actively assist in biological processes, most notably the conversion of cholesterol into secosteroids via 'cooking' them on the skin with ultraviolet radiation. As a result, relishing in sunlight became, to an extent, a desirable trait in the psyche, becoming deeply embedded in the reptilian parts of the mind.
The Great Lamp, created by the last of the Ironworkers during the construction of the Mimikos - the highest plane of the Remaining World, and the primary home of humanity - had thusly been built to emulate the sun in not only function, but aesthetics and perceived behavior. It crossed the firmament over the course of the day, traveling from the east into the west. The pathway it took even changed with the seasons, as it had in the old world based on the axial tilt of the planet.
But the human brain is a observant and fussy thing, and some brains are even more observant and fussy than others. Inevitably, in some individuals, a small part of them remained aware that it wasn't quite right, producing an uncomfortable dissonance that had at this point become a widely-recognized phenomenon. I understood there were even groups to help treat it; you'd go out on nice trips to parks and to the seaside in broad daylight during summertime, to help you form happy memories associated with the lamplight. (This was a concept that seemed nightmarishly saccharine and dystopian to me, but that's neither here nor there.)
Because I'm the type of person who likes to rationalize and pathologize everything, I'd always assumed this was the reason I preferred night time and rainy days to clear daylight, although it might just have been because I'm naturally a gloomy person. Either way, as Ran and I walked down the high street outside the university, I found myself feeling surprisingly calm and light-hearted.
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I don't know if I've requested this before, but here:
OKAY, so if this is too heavy of a topic I am so sorry, but hear me out! Romantic Yandere erasermic with a darling that has depression, now the depression has been around for a long time and was NOT caused by them, but being kidnapped has made it worse. And their darling has depressive episodes that can get so bad that their darling wont want to eat, drink, shower, brush their teeth, or change clothes in the morning, and sometimes it takes threats of a punishment to get them out of bed in the morning. I suffer from depressive episodes like that, so I was wondering what Mic and Aizawa would do if they saw their Darling suffer like that?
If that's too heavy of a topic, then how about romantic erasermic, and their darling actually escapes, but their darling has so much trouble adjusting back to a normal life that like, a month later they come back sobbing and literally begging to come back home with them?
Its not to heavy darling
I think because its so heavy its nice to address it
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
“Did you eat today?”
“...”
“(Y/n)! Did you-”
“Okay! I did! I did, alright. Chill out.”
“...Did the thing you eat actually have any protein value? Or was it just some cubes of ice you were pretending was an actual snack.”
“....”
“Kitchen. Now.”
When Shouta and Hizashi finally migrated you into their home they knew you were struggling. It's what made them so worried. They expected that for the first month this behavior would increase and they’d be wary of it. But after three months had passed without you attempting to escape or even enjoy the autonomy they allowed you to have they were worried.
What worried them even more was your growing dissonance to the punishments they put in place to make you move. The first time the second Shouta suggested actually breaking your legs since you want to stay in bed all day, you snapped right up avoiding the bed like the plague until the end of the day. The next time though was not nearly as responsive:
“Can I at least have some painkillers?”
They eventually shifted their already solid schedules to take time to encourage you to actually function. Sometimes taking you into the shower themselves, spoon feeding you, or even brushing your teeth.
They’re definitely not letting you go. If you thought your depressed doll state was going to scare them off, think again. They up their game in engaging with your hobbies because of course they know them already. Even with your short bouts of energy to indulge they praise your advancements. If you like ranting about a show or movie they will sit down and listen to you for hours. Or if you like to bake or cook they make it a challenge for you; “Tomatoes, sun chips, sour cream, and caramel! Make it work!” Even if you end up creating an abomination they’re cheering you on and shoving it down their throats.
If you can’t muster the energy or the drive to even look at the things you love they go with a more primal tactic.
You hear the door to your “room” creak open. You don’t bother to open your eyes as you hear the determined footfalls of one of your captors. You expected to be lightly shaken awake or being carried out of bed (Shouta). Only to hear that the steps stopped at the foot of your bed, you figured that this was just some new way to wake you up. What you weren’t ready for was the rising of the covers and the heat of another person crawling to you. Without moving your head you watched the bubbling of the comforter move closer to your lower half. You stayed still, mostly in shock as large calloused hands gilded softly up your leg to your waist. You began to squirm a little as those same hands began to flutter and pinch at the puffy fat underneath your skin.
“H-hey! Hold on–whoa!”
The tickles and touches that were just playfully occupying your waist had propped your butt up before pulling off your undergarments, leaving you completely bare. Because of your position you weren’t able to kick at your assailant settling to just bucking your hips in a desperate attempt to get loose. Your plan backfired, where one of your thrusts was made to create distance only enticed the face of whoever it was into the clutch of your genitals. You stopped realizing that you were the one who instituted the lewd act only to feel that same presence move towards you once again.
“AeAe–Is that y-your tongue-? Ahh~!”
You couldn’t focus on anything as the growing heat of this person’s tongue just kept lapping at your sopping privates. Your only solace was the tight hold you had on the sheets; practically pulling it off the mattress as you involuntarily bucked.
“Feeling better now?”
The gruff and sultry voice of Shouta tickles your ear, being lightly rubbed at by the scruff on his chin. You were so occupied with who you could only assume to be Hizashi you couldn’t focus on the entry of the other. Feeling overheated and overwhelmed you leaned into the hero, moaning into his mouth as you reached your climax. Coming down from your high you rested your head on the naked chest of the man beside you; just barely registering the kisses peppered from waist to just below your chest.
“Did you know *kiss* we’re studying anatomy *kiss kiss* with the kids?”
“He’s right.” Shouta began to hold your face up to his, kissing your forehead.” Especially endorphins *peck* and oxytocin.”
“All of which come from…hehe~good times.” Finally appearing from beneath the cover of your comforter resting his head on your upper abdomen. His beady eyes glow a devious yellow-green staring straight into yours. Spooked, you turn to the piercing crimson gaze of Shouta as he continues.
“Depression doesn’t let you enjoy yourself, whether it's actually loving yourself…” The man that was previously covered crawled to your unoccupied left forcing you to stare into his loving gaze.
“...or loving the things you love…”
“But lucky for you we have you…”
“We love you and we’ll gladly help you fight this.”
“Yes it’s our vow to keep our kitten healthy by all means necessary…”
A new hand cold and just as big caressed downward before resting over the space between your legs. What felt cold seconds before once again began to heat up and that familiar wetness returned.
“Even if it means forcing your body to get with the program.” The radio star’s voice snickered into your ear as he trailed his hand over your nipples giving one a squeeze.
“We’ll love you, (Y/n) even when you can’t.”
“You’ll move because of us, canary.”
“You’ll sing again because of us.”
“We’ll do everything for you (Y/n)!”
“Even loving you.”
“Even when you can do it yourself.”
“Because you're ours.”
#yandere bnha#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yanderexrea#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderes#yandere erasermic#erasermic#yandere aizawa x reader#yandere hizashi#yandere hizashi yamada#yandere aizawa shouta#yandere polyamory
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i'm a het separatist and i don't understand most osa women at all when they talk about dating men. they constantly brag about the bare minimum standards their men meet ("hes nice and compliments meeee" & "he makes me orgasm sometimes and doesn't hit me") like do they realize how pathetic they sound? it's also insanity to see osa women realize how shitty men are, but they still sleep with them constantly one after the other. it is free entertainment though to see all this complaining
No I can't say I find it entertaining.
A woman once came over to me and my separatist friends bragging about having managed to persuade her husband of doing the dishes. Which took some effort on her part. But to her it was proof that she was the boss in the relationship and that her man was receptive to her feminist lectures. The next day she was even more excited when she told us that her husband had complained about her not preparing his meal for work (when all his colleagues' wives did so) and she responded that she would not do it. Again, to her it was a great feminist success. And divorcing him was out of the question because she was "educating" him, he was a work in progress, she had to believe this. None of us dared to tell her what she already knew. She was trying to convince herself, not us. And when she left, we didn't laugh or say it was "free entertainment". We were sad for her.
Mocking these women is in contradiction with separatism's goal in my opinion. Think about it. Why would a woman leave men only to join a group of women who laughed at her pain and said that her trying to make her life more bearable was "entertainment"? I understand you being irritated at the cognitive dissonance, but separatism isn't just about separating from men, it's about offering an alternative based on female solidarity. So that alternative can't have anything to do with mocking women for how they dealt with subjugation. I'm sure you've had your share of denial and misplaced affection before you decided to reject men. I don't expect separatists to spend our lives pleading with other women to join us, but we must leave the door open and create a home that is welcoming to all women. A great number of women come to this later than you and me. They come with shattered illusions and heartaches. Separatism is a political movement but it's also a healing place or it ought to be.
So if you've lost patience with domestically abused women then focus on building that alternative of freedom for the women who are already on that path. It's good for you and it's good for the women who might join you someday.
And if you struggle to understand why women bond with their oppressors so desperately and intimately I suggest you read the book Loving To Survive (though the title says it all really).
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A Ballad To No One
Book: The Royal Romance
Character: Hana Lee
Rating: G
Word count: 670
Reading time: ~1min
Summary: Hana carries a secret she isn't willing to share with just anyone.
Based on the prompt: @choicesnovchallenge: Music/Musicians Day
Author’s notes:
Hana Lee belongs to Pixelberry Studios;
I was supposed to post this during @hanaleeappreciationweek, but my muse wasn't cooperating at the time;
I'm picturing Hana in this oneshot as a child/pre-teen, before the ball she rebelled against her parents playing a song out of key on purpose.
Hands glided on the piano keys as Hana once again tried to follow the fast paced notes of Chopin's Étude Op. 10 No. 4. At this point, she didn't even know how many times she had repeated that tricky bar in which she missed the tempo. Or how long she had been practicing that same piece since her classes ended. Her mother would host a party in two days and for some reason she couldn't fathom, her mother insisted Hana should play Étude Op. 10 No. 4. Of all Chopin's etudes, why did she choose the hardest one?
As her ring finger slipped, hitting the wrong key, she frowned. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at the sheet music, hummed the bar one more time at a slower pace, then began to play again. As she got it right, she tried again, but faster. Then a little faster. Faster! Faster! Faster! Before she could avoid it, the wrong note echoed in the room, making a strange, dissonant sound.
Huffing in frustration, Hana placed both hands on her legs and took a deep breath. If it was up to her, she could tear that stupid sheet music and never play that piece again. She didn't even like that piece. But she couldn't say no and walk out of the room. Whenever her parents told her to do something, there was no time for questions, scowls or long faces. She did as she was told and that was it. But just because she didn't protest it didn't mean she was happy to obey.
Why so many etiquette lessons? Why did she have to take such strange classes completely unrelated to one another? 'It'll prepare you for courtly life', her mother used to say. But what was the use of preparing herself to live somewhere she didn't even know, for a life she didn't choose?
Hana shook her head, as if to shake away those thoughts and looked back at the sheet music again. Tapping her right foot on the floor, Hana studied the tempo once more and played it slower again.
"Such a dull piece..." She thought to herself. It didn't have a nice melody. it wasn't fun to play... Did anyone ever feel anyone except anxiety while playing this? Did anyone who play it had any other intention to play it except show off how skilled they were at the piano?
Playing the piano shouldn't make her feel like this... Is music a form of art? Isn't it a form of expression for the author of the piece? Shouldn't the performer feel something about it?
Hana then stopped playing and closed Chopin's songbook. There was no point in playing it. Looking down at the piano keys, the young girl tried to remember the last time she felt something while playing the piano. It wasn't during any of the parties hosted by her parents. Nor during recitals. She always felt uncomfortable while playing for an audience.
As her fingers ambled on the piano keys again, following the chromatic scale, memories of her first piano classes flooded her mind. How exciting it felt to play for the first time, the warm ups, learning music theory, the first piece she ever played, the first song she wrote...
Once she played the key she failed so many times, it sparkled something within her. She then played a chord that sounded nice with the note, creating an harmonic sound. Hana continued to play without any sheet music, occasionally writing the sequence of notes and chords in her notebook.
Before her, an original piece came to life. Quite a surprise, given how rare inspiration struck. As Hana played the song once again, she pictured someone dancing, gracefully following the rhythm. She couldn't see their face, but something told her they were smiling.
As the song came to an end, a sense of yearning spread in her chest. Composing this piece was quite fulfilling, yet she couldn't help but wish she could've seen that someone's face. Perhaps they would like to dance while she played. Carrying her notebook, Hana closed the piano lid and stood up to leave the music room. For now, no one would know about it. But hopefully, someday she would meet someone who would dance to her song.
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(sorry, one more bc it's been on my mind for a long time)
I worry though, about... the dynamic. Can someone really find and bond with another through their grief and loneliness, without this grim depression they share becoming *worse?*
For me, personally, whenever I think about them... I think there's going to be a level of catharsis. They have something that would be very hard to find in another living being, and a certain love for humanity and the past that would be difficult to find among vampires, and this shapes them into shattered pieces which fit together. But would they still be able to find happiness? It kind of feels like they're two damaged clocks that have coincidentally been stuck on the same minute and hour hand. Would they be able to heal and move time forward?
Okay so like!!!!
I see it less about bonding over the shared grief itself and more about what their responses to that grief have exposed in each of them. Like, in the beginning and on the surface level, yes. It is the grief and loss and loneliness that brings them together. But they are foils!!! I'm telling you!!! They can learn from each other!!!
I've mentioned probably all of this before in scattered pieces across all my posts at some point but!! I think the lowest common denominator, the core of their dynamic, lies in how they seem to have established their senses of self.
Alucard struggles with how not to define himself by his father, and then having to define himself in opposition to his father. "Slave to our families' wishes" etc. And when that chapter of his life closes he's like, "welp, guess I'll just entomb myself here 🤷" until Trevor and Sypha are like "what?? Dude no??" And he's like "oh haha I guess you're right, I can uphold the legacy of the best parts of both of my parents!!" And they're like "ya!!" But then a month goes by without anyone coming round to say "hey!!! Share that knowledge with me!! Fulfill the role you've given yourself" and he is just... so fucking bored and unfulfilled?
He needed they-who-shall-not-be-named to come along so he could fill that role, needed Greta to come along so he could fill that role. He tells Greta about how rescuing others sort of fills a void for him/gives him purpose, which is honorable, yes. But like... It's also so sad imo?? This comfort in denying his sense of self? "I don't know what to do with myself, just gimme a shout if the world ever needs saving again"?? Like Alucard, honey, babygirl, sweetheart... you need to learn to live for yourself 🥺
Olrox on the other hand is... not selfish exactly, but he knows what he's about and he refuses compromise himself. You killed the only man I ever loved? Okay, then I'm killing you, and no, I don't care if your nine year old son witnesses it. You want the juicy story of why that boy is terrified of the big bad vampire? Okay, but you will learn about my humanity first so you can sit with your cognitive dissonance about it later. You think I'm just going to throw myself at your feet because you promise us all eternal night? How about you kindly go fuck yourself? You happily stump for Erzsebet because she promised you that she'll create a world that will allow you to relive your glory days? Couldn't be me!
Like obviously we have a much more limited viewpoint for Olrox because we know so much less about him and his past, but this is not a guy who's waiting for someone to give him a purpose. He acts alone, he doesn't play nice with others, he has his own agenda, and is even a little bit of a hedonist: investigating the relationship between the abbot and Erzsebet? Might as well fuck a hot monk while I'm at it. I said eat the rich, but I might as well look good doing it. You hate/fear me cause I killed your mom? Get over it already. You think the opera singing night creature is annoying? Well, I'm familiar enough with opera music to know he's actually reading you all for filth, so I think it's great!
I think at the end of the day, Alucard is a character who defines himself by others, not understanding why he still feels so empty and alone. And Olrox is a character who defines himself by his own terms, but in being caught between both human and vampire worlds has learned to push people away because he thinks he is better off that way. But by the end of the season, his worst fear is realized: I cannot do this alone. I am at the mercy of someone else's help.
But Olrox isn't like anyone else Alucard has rescued before. He's a fellow vampire. He's a fellow immortal. He's going to be around for as long as he is. And maybe, in that time, a little bit of that ego can start to rub off on Alucard. Maybe he can learn to live for himself without apology, without feeling like he has to atone for the sins of his father. Maybe, just maybe, he can learn to exist outside of the role of the mythical savior.
Because Olrox doesn't want one of those—heaven's no. He can take care of himself, thank you very much. But what if he could learn he doesn't always have to? Who better to restore his faith in the world than the guy who has his mother's conviction that all of this mess is worth saving so deeply ingrained in him that it's been the primary source of his identity for centuries?
I'm starting to ramble here so I hope this is coherent, but in conclusion: they would be so restorative for each other and look so hot together and that is why I believe in Alurox supremacy 🙏
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super balanced response on dams ultimate career goals i think that’s all super reasonable and true. i also think what dan needs to work on the most if he really wants to be a great comedian is dialling back the theatrics a bit actually. i think sometimes his everyday jokes paired with his over the top delivery creates a bit of dissonance where it feels like he’s doing too much. that’s why is crowdeork is good bc it forced him to just be real for a second. i think if he learned how to stop being a caricature it would do a lot for him bc you’re right he’s def on the right track!
yeah!!! to an extent though i think the caricature over the top bit works, like i don't think he needs to ditch it entirely? but i do agree he definitely needs to dial it down. i think if he could find a nice balance between his over the top theatrical deliveries and the way more casual stuff he does with the audience he'd be fucking golden.
also like.. okay so as much as i agree with you, anon, that his "over the top" stuff should probably be dialled down.. what i noticed at we're all doomed - and i went both in london and in oslo, capitals of england and norway, not the broadest demographic but broad enough to form half an opinion - is that a very fair bit of the audience responded not just well but honestly Great to his, what i would call, over the top jokes. it would be one thing if only a couple of people reacted to them but ngl it was like, almost half the room if not actually half the room, and i think that's gotta count for something? like as much as i personally cringe when dan goes too hard on a joke live, if the audience responds to it... he's clearly succeeded, hasn't he?
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