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alldagayships · 3 years

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Like Dewdrops - Kit/Ty

Short fanfic inspired by a comic by @toka-sketch

(I was basically bullied into writing this by @kieran-lovebot and @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped, so you have them to thank)

(By the way it’s not very good)

(Read at your own risk)

(I’m really bad at self-promo, if you couldn’t tell.)

If I could gather all the tears I spilled for you, they would cluster like dewdrops and form an ocean.

"Kit!"

As soon as his name left Ty's lips--it seemed as if Ty's lips were made to speak his name--Kit turned. His golden hair was damp, weighed down by the moisture that accumulated between its fine strands. Yet still it gleamed like the sun, bright against the dark background of the night. His eyes were half-hidden by the heavy locks that fell in front of them, their blue light as piercing as a sharpened sapphire.

If only your eyes could carry my ocean; but they are too alive to carry the burden of something so hopeless.

"Ty?"

Somehow, Ty was in Kit's arms. His hands clutched at Ty's shirt, and Ty buried his own into the soft fabric on Kit's back. He could feel the warmth of his skin, the solid shape of his shoulders, the slight tremble of his body. He clung on to Kit, the way he'd never thought to before. He should have held him at every chance he got, held him closer than he'd ever held anyone.

If I'd known we couldn't have infinity, I would have kept you with me and never let you leave.

They were on the ground: Ty had knocked Kit over in his haste. But who wouldn't be hasty when the thing they had wanted and had and needed and lost was right back in front of them, found again? Who wouldn't rush to snatch it up and make sure it was real, to claim it for their own?

Ty had been so quick to run to Kit that he hadn't noticed the flush on his cheekbones, the tangles in his hair, the ash and charcoal smudged on his bare skin. Ty wanted to say something, to do something, to tell Kit all the thoughts he'd had, all the times he lay thinking about him. The regrets and the realizations that had hit him like a crushing gravity since Kit had gone lay on the tip of his tongue. Ty longed to let them spill out, but for the first time, he was afraid that he would say the wrong thing to Kit.

If you would hold me as tightly as I hold on to you, you would understand everything without me saying it.

"What's wrong?"

Kit drew back from Ty as he spoke, and reached his hand up to Ty's head. He threaded his fingers into Ty's hair. Warmth spread through Ty. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Kit's hand, snuggling closer as Kit's fingers wove the dark strands away from Ty's forehead. The corners of Ty's mouth lifted into a soft smile. Affection beat through his body like blood through his veins. He could only think of how gentle Kit's hand was, how comforting his presence was, how he wanted to stay like this for as long as he could. What would happen if he curled up right here, with Kit beside him, and they stayed there, and he didn't have to worry about anything, and he would be happy with Kit and Kit with him? He opened his eyes a crack and gazed fondly up at Kit.

If I could make you understand how you make me feel, if you could see the stars in your own eyes as I stare into them, when would you get bored and leave?

"It's nothing."

Kit drew his hand back suddenly. The absence of it was enough to snap Ty out of his stupor and open his eyes fully. Kit was crouching on the wet cement, his head bent over and his face stuffed into his arms. Was he okay? Was he injured, or cold? What did he need? The bit of Kit's face that Ty could see was pale, and his eyes, peeking out from under his arm, seemed distant and as sharp as the tip of a needle. Ty wanted to comfort him, to reach a hand out and make the tension in his muscles ease with a touch. The look in Kit's eyes stopped him when his hand was halfway there. Confusion stirred in Ty's stomach.

"Kit?"

If happiness was not so easy to lose and not so difficult to gain, we would have it all and I would never worry about you.

"Hey, Kit."

Ty let his arm drape over his knees and hugged them to his chest. He grinned dopily and pressed his face to the crack between his knees. A giddy feeling ran through him, like when he watched small puppies chase each other around with a carefree joy. The only time Ty felt like that was around Kit. With a small sound, Kit lifted his head and looked up. His whole face was red, and Ty could feel his cheeks burning, too, as he drank in the sight of Kit. Energy seemed to be rolling off of him in waves, making the blue of his eyes jump out, the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the breath escaping his nose. Ty's smile and that giddy feeling turned into something deeper, an emotion so intense, compelling him, and he couldn't stop himself when he reached out again.

If I could control myself around you, how much pain would we have evaded, how many blades could have been turned away from us?

"Christopher."

It was barely a whisper, a rush of air, as light as Ty's hand on Kit's face, cradling his cheek, his chin, pressing against his chapped lips. Kit's eyes were fixed on Ty's face, round and blue, magnified by unspilled tears. His brow was drawn in, his features forming an almost worried expression. But why would he be worried? There was nothing wrong, nothing to fear. Just him and Ty.

If we could run away, how soon would it be before I drove you back?

"I'm so happy to have you."

Ty leaned closer to Kit until their foreheads brushed together. A sense of surety and calm settled over Ty. This was right, this was how things were supposed to be, this was how things would always be. Kit's face in Ty's hand, his palm on Ty's sleeve, his lips so close that Ty could feel where the air was stirred between them. Ty's heart was beating so fast in his chest that he knew Kit could feel it.

If you have this effect on me now, how will it feel when you split me apart like a fallen branch?

"Really?"

The word barely registered in Ty's mind. He was too focused on Kit, on everything about him. He shifted his head infinitesimally closer, closer, closer, until there was barely a centimeter between their faces.

If I can finally know you like this, maybe I will be able to think straight.

And then suddenly Ty was being thrown back against a wall, and Kit's hands were on his shoulders. The force with which Ty's head hit the brick reverberated through his body. Kit's fists, far from gentle, as they had been before, were digging into Ty's shoulders, his arms, as stiff and straight as arrows, pinning Ty against the wall. Kit's back was curved, as if his body was bending over itself to get as far away from Ty as possible. There was a ferocity in him that Ty had never seen before, never imagined would be directed at him.

"Then tell me why, Ty?"

If you love me, if we can get through it together, why did you leave me?

"Why didn't you listen to me?"

If I could know every word you'd ever said, I would memorize it all.

"How could you do this?"

If you leave, how could we get through it together?

"To Livvy..."

If my sister could see this happen, what would she say?

"To me..."

If you'd refused at the start, where would we be?

"It's your fault."

If it's my fault, why do I not feel guilty?

"Ty. . . My Sherlock. . ."

If I'm yours, why can't you be mine?

"I loved you so much..."

If you could fill me up with all your love, how much empty space would there be?

"But now I-I..."

As Kit spoke--words that filled Ty's eyes with tears and chest with lead and head with throbbing thoughts that swirled and sank like oil in water--he'd loosened his grip on Ty's shoulders and moved his hands to Ty's jaw. They lay there, deceptively tender as he brushed his fingers over Ty's face. Ty was numb everywhere; he could barely feel the pressure of Kit's hands, or the hard brick behind him, or the cold of the chains that hung around his neck. Yet it was like the rest of the world was magnified, stretching out towards him, strangling his breath and tugging on his limbs and stretching out his skin.

And Kit's hands were still there, even though Ty couldn't feel them. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to Ty that he could move away. That tantalizing ghost of a sensation on his face would be gone, and he wouldn't have to hear the rest of Kit's sentence. But another part of Ty that couldn't understand what was happening wanted to move forwards. Wanted to react to Kit's hands, to sink into his touch as he had just moments earlier, let himself be comforted.

If you blame me so much, why are yours the hands that bring me ease, yours the voice that mitigates the sting of reality?

Silence was the only thing Ty was truly aware of. The absence of Kit's voice, the sound of it as it had faded away. But now I... What? Now he what?

Ty swallowed--with as much difficulty as it would take to swallow a blade--and forced out, in a scratchy voice barely above a whisper, "Kit?"

It was like the second the words slipped past Ty's lips, a flip was switched in Kit. He flinched and yanked his hands back, anguish filling his face, tears welling from his eyes, falling--falling and landing perfectly on the ground like dewdrops. A sob choked its way up his throat, then words, words that had echoed in Ty's head and seemed to drain his energy and bleed the colour from his surroundings--

"I wish I'd never known you!"

If I knew how you would burn more than the wounds of consciousness, would I have welcomed the strain?

"Kit!!!"

He was gone. Cold air replaced the heat that had radiated from Kit's body. Stiff blankets twisted around Ty where the soft cloth of Kit's shirt had been. Ty's hand clutched the pillow beneath his head rather than the spun gold that was Kit's hair, moist from the dew in the air. The only constants were the tears that blurred his vision and the loops of metal around his neck. Despair filled Ty--at what, he didn't know. At what Kit had said in his dream? At what he had said in the past? At the image of Kit, in front of him? At losing him again? At having him again?

If I could have you back, would I take you without hesitation or would the fear of my nightmares hold me away?

A forced breath flew past Ty's lips as he felt his eyes tingle with another round of tears. He clenched his teeth, gripped his arms tightly, bit his lip, to keep any sound from following the sporadic inhales and exhales that shuddered through him. He squeezed his eyes shut and water seeped past his eyelids, catching on his eyelashes and tracing a path down the side of his head. His hand, covered in blood like the sheets tangled around him, flew to his mouth and smothered the sob that rose up against his will.

Kit.

Tears like rain.

I'm so sorry.

Like a river.

Please forgive me.

Like a current.

I miss you, Watson.

Like an ocean.

I love you.

Like dewdrops.

#ty blackthorn #kit herondale #kit rook #tiberius blackthorn #christopher herondale #kit x ty #ty x kit #kitty #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #cassandra clare #toka-sketch

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lizzie-saltzman · 3 years

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I’LL CRAWL HOME TO YOU

A Hizzie fanfiction / update

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman Fandom: Legacies Rating: M Chapters: 2/? Summary: In many ways, meeting Hope in a different reality had helped Lizzie put things in perspective, and perhaps even understand her in ways she hadn’t before. Understand them, their connection, the palpable animosity that had turned into a reluctant friendship and now something far more tangible. The rest, well, she doesn’t tell Josie. Not about waking up after three weeks away from her real home, tucked under the covers of Hope’s bed with their clothes discarded around the dormitory, with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead and her hair sticking to her cheekbones. There were some things better left unsaid. (Upon her return from an alternate timeline a Malivore monster teleported her to, Lizzie must deal with the aftermath of her time spent away, and her newly doormat feelings for Hope Mikaelson.)

chapter 1 here

READ CH. 2 HERE ON AO3 or under the read more

[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]

A muddy splash sends speckles of murky water coating a pair of white boots. Under the full moon, an owl hoots, as Lizzie Saltzman breaks through the branches that leave a bloody mark on her left cheek. She reaches for it, with a mumbled expletive as her breathing grows heavier and her knees start to give. Behind her, a black wolf with yellow tinted eyes that shine through the darkness of the woods gives chase, snarling as it draws closer to her.

She’s been sprinting for a while; Lizzie’s exhausted, pushing past the burn on her thighs as she rounds a corner and leaps over a log dangerously set on the ground, almost losing her balance as her boot skids through the mud. Its drizzling, her clothes are weighing her down, her hair is ruined – if she had the mind to complain about the other terrible but insignificant, personal circumstances, she’d be holding an ice pack to her cheek and ranting over a Strawberry Smoothie. Instead, she finds herself here, in the outskirts of the woods in Mystic Falls, barely managing to get on her feet before the wolf catches up to her.

“Lecutio!” She’s all out of magic after –– the ball of energy flies ahead of the wolf and crashes against the tree behind it, effectively snapping off the branches and watching as they fall near the wolf long enough to distract it. It wasn’t her intention, really – she was aiming for it’s head. Soon enough, the wolf turns it’s head (and it’s disorienting eyes) in her direction, growling.

“Crap…” And she takes off again, her boots splash, splash, splashing rapidly on the wet floor. This is not how she pictured spending a Sunday night.

Her lungs are giving out, her body begs her to stop running; she might pass out from exhaustion alone, and her vision – on top of that – blurs as the light drizzle of rain washes over her face. She wipes it away with the palm of her hand, but it obstructs her already impaired vision in the dark, and trips over a boulder on the ground. Lizzie groans, her body rolling through the mud, and the wolf slows it’s approach. She’s cornered. She’s screwed. She’s dead.

The wolf stalks forward. Lizzie raises her hands to her face, and it launches itself through the air.

Lizzie screams, anticipating the powerful impact, the bite, but instead another wolf collides in the air with her attacker. White, with speckles of grey. They roll around in the mud, snarling at each other, growling, taking bites anywhere their teeth can sink into until they’re both back on their feet. Lizzie watches, covering her mouth as she gasps, pushing herself back until her shoulders meet one of the trees behind her.

Then, the white wolf attacks the black one again. They begin their vicious snarling, and as Lizzie finds the force to pick herself off the ground, she hears one of them whimper. When she looks back, the black wolf is retreating, disappearing through the trees, and the white one turns, even slower in its approach. Lizzie’s eyes widen, out of magic, and out of breath, but she turns around in an attempt to try and run away again.

Except she spins out, when she feels her black hoodie being yanked away from her body, leaving her in a tank top under the rain that starts to pick up. She turns around angrily, but instead of finding a white wolf stalking back, she finds –

“Hope?”

Hope is sporting her too-big-for-her hoodie over her naked body and watching her with her arms crossed over her chest. It covers just enough. Not everything. Just enough.

“Oh, thank God!” Lizzie exclaims, throwing her arms around Hope in sweet, sweet relief as she tries to catch her breath. “I thought I was dead. Dead, dead.”

But she knows Hope Mikaelson. Always coming through with her last minute heroics.

Except this time, Hope pushes her away, hands on her shoulders, taking a step back to get a good look at her. They look at each other, almost comically; Hope with an eyebrow quirked and Lizzie, with her mouth agape. Then, Hope’s strange behavior is perfectly clear –

“Who the hell are you?”

------

[ PRESENT DAY ]

“Lizzie!”

Hope’s tired voice carries down the hallway. Behind her, Lizzie can hear her footsteps approaching – faster, faster – until they stop at her side, walking in tandem with her into the vast, otherwise dusty library at the end of the hall, where students gather quietly over a pile of books raging from anything about the occult to the mundane – European History and an old, thick Gaelic book about Magical Portals that thuds on the ground as it falls sloppily from the top of the bookshelf and almost takes Lizzie out. Talk about head trauma.

“Hey, watch it!” Lizzie looks up as dust gathers below her. Alyssa Chang stands on the top of the rolling ladder, shrugging nonchalantly. Whoops.

Lizzie picks up the book, coughs, swatting the dust away and piling it on top of Hope’s already busy hands. Hope says nothing, only blinks away the speckles of dust as she trails behind Lizzie with concern.

“I haven’t seen you all day. Is everything okay?”

She shouldn’t be taken aback, but she is, by the genuine worried inflection in Hope Mikaelson’s voice. Hope is tired, the evidence marked clearly on her face, vaguely darkened circles under her eyes that Hope barely had mind to conceal this morning with even the smallest layer of makeup. No one would be able to tell, not really, but Lizzie can. She knows that look Hope carries around like a weight on her back when something’s been keeping her up at night.

In front of the tinted window sill, Lizzie turns. The yellow light reflects off Hope’s exhausted, blue eyes, and Lizzie almost stutters, opting to instead, snatch the book back from the pile already gathered on Hope’s arms and toss it onto the nearest unoccupied table.

No, Hope. I’ve been avoiding you all morning until this very unfortunate meeting where we’ll be subjected to a torturous hour of incessant nerd rambling on how to kill the very same monster that sent me through a hell portal into another dimension where I hooked up with you and your unforgettable muscles and now I can’t even look at you in the eyes without thinking about it, so–

“I’m fine”. Lizzie says, saccharine sweet. Too sweet. Enough to make Hope suspicious, as she looks at the book Lizzie tossed on the table with an eyebrow raised. “I was having a perfectly fine morning until MG interrupted my strictly scheduled morning meditation and after reluctantly agreeing to meet here in exactly five minutes, the kitchen was out of Belgian Waffles, so I had to settle for a non-fat Greek yogurt. So yes, I’ve been severely inconvenienced, but it has nothing to do with you”.

“I never said it has –” Hope starts. “Shouldn’t we talk about it? About what happened…”

Lizzie stiffens.

“With the monster…”

She deflates.

“We still don’t know if there are any side effects to any of this. Doctor Saltzman said you refused to talk to Emma about what happened –”

“And now you’re giving me advice about what I should and shouldn’t talk to our school therapist about?” Lizzie scoffs, on the defensive, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “That’s rich, Hope”.

“That’s not what I meant –”

“Everyone at this school is so prolific at internalizing every shitty thing that happens to us on a weekly basis but since this one particular thing happened to me, then of course I’m the one who has to have the damage control, witchy therapy sessions with Emma despite the fact that I’ve already told everyone who’s asked that I’m fine!”

“Lizzie –”

“Is that why you were looking for me this morning? You wanted to check up on me?”

“Yes”. Hope says sincerely. Its her version of an olive branch – honesty. Lizze frowns, but Hope touches her wrist and she stays frozen in place, like she’s been jolted and immobilized by an invisible force. “The same night you found your way back to us you rushed into the woods on a near suicide mission to help me fight a monster we’re still not sure how to kill. Of course I wanted to check up on you. I was worried. You left my bedroom so suddenly last night that I didn’t even have time to ask how you were feeling. I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to come back. I wasn’t sure if we were ever going to see you again.”

Lizzie takes a breath, defeated. We, we, we – she has no right to be stung by the plurality of the word, but it gives her that feeling in the middle of her throat, like it runs dry, like one wrong word from Hope and she might break down in tears.

“I want to make sure you’re okay”. Hope continues. “You’re my best friend”.

And that’s the tragedy of it. She’s Hope’s best friend. Anything beyond that is nothing but something she could only clearly wish for in another timeline. One where Hope doesn’t know about her baggage, one where they got a clean slate to restart their history, no rumors, no backhanded comments…

“Me too”. Lizzie whispers. She brings her thumb up to brush over the side of Hope’s hand.

She thinks about holding it. She almost does, until –

“Yo, guys. We should get this show on the road”. Jed interjects, seemingly out of nowhere, picking up the book Lizzie had discarded on the table earlier and hopping over the banister towards the center table in the now empty library, where the rest of the squad has now gathered around one of Wade’s Dungeons and Dragons books.

By the time Lizzie pulls her hand back and they both gather around the table, Wade’s already settled in with the group.

“– That’s the thing though. Dimensional Warpers don’t usually engage in combat, but they do like learning about their enemies and their battle tactics. They’re not usually ones to initiate but they’ll fight if they sense that their life is in danger.”

“That explains why it disappeared last night and didn’t come back”. Hope pushes her way in between MG and Jed at the front and center of the table. “Do you think it’s after something?”

“Maybe. I can’t imagine another reason why Malivore would’ve spit that particular monster out. They’re elusive, hard to kill, and they only come out at night. Their night vision is impeccable”.

“How do we kill it?”

“Well, they are giant, bipedal, flying snakes, but they’re still snakes. I think we all know what the easiest way to kill one is –”

“Cut off it’s head”. Lizzie deadpans. Everyone turns, and Lizzie stands on the other side of the table, looking intently at the picture of the creature on Wade’s book.

And Hope, looking at the magical artifacts on the far side display, slumps her shoulders.

“We’re gonna need a very big sword”.

------

[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]

“Is your name Lizzie Saltzman?”

“Yes”. Between two slender and shaky hands, an orb flashes blue.

Across the antique, expensive looking desk in front of her, and a family portrait in the space where a tinted window used to sit, Klaus Mikaelson looks at Hope with concern and curiosity. Hope, looking taller and prouder as her hand rests upon Klaus’ leather chair, gives him a side eye.

She remembers Klaus from when she was younger, just as intimidating and commanding as he had been the day he’d sought out their help to save Hope from the Hollow all those years ago. She also remembers the Klaus she’s read about, in the books tucked away in the very same library a couple of doors down the hallway; the tales about The Great Evil. The boogeyman to end them all. The man who had terrorized Mystic Falls and claimed New Orleans like a dynasty, the man who had courted her mother until the day he died — but she also remembers the Klaus Mikaelson that Hope had told her about. The father. The man weighed down by the consequences of his choices and the drive to ensure his family’s survival, their safety, no matter the cost. In one universe, it had already cost him his life. In this one, the story seems to have been painted differently.

In this story, Hope is different. She’s prouder, she wears a scowl like armor but not with the purpose of pushing everyone away. This Hope reminds her of an heiress. Someone destined to inherit something bigger and greater than herself. Maybe it’s all this, Lizzie thinks. The Mikaelson School. Maybe it’s another kingdom entirely.

She looks… Good. Really good.

“Are you Alaric Saltzman’s daughter?” Hope continues.

“Yes”. Blue again.

“That doesn’t make any sense”. Klaus moves to take the orb from her hands, but Hope is faster — much faster — grabs his father’s arm before he can snatch it.

“Dad, you can’t fool the magical lie detector. They’re simple yeses or no's”.

Klaus respects her, she can tell, because he backs off and opens a drawer in his desk, takes out a heavy looking file — and pulls out a picture of her dad. He puts it in front of her.

“This man is your father?” He asks her again.

“Yes”.

And like clockwork, the orb shines blue again.

“That doesn’t make any sense —” Lizzie goes to interject but Klaus holds his finger up, standing from his chair with his hands behind his back, circling around the office like a man with a decision to make. Technically he is… a man with a decision to make. About her.

Which really, really gives her the chills. The bad kind.

“— You see, Alaric is a slobber of a drunk man who unfortunately lost his wife on his wedding day. He was supposed to father two children, twins actually, and his psychopathic to-be brother-in-law murdered his fiancé at the altar. His daughters perished with her. He lost his Tenure at Mystic Falls High, now teaches a second-rate-history class at a local college, and he let the rest of his dreams die in the bottom of a bottle of stale whiskey and fatty liver disease. That man never got to father any children. He’s barely a man at all. No purpose. No drive”.

“Apparently not in this life —” Lizzie mutters. The orb flashes blue and Hope’s eyes immediately snap to Lizzie’s.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She’s the one taking the orb from her hands in a blink of an eye. She’s fast. Really fast. It takes her a second to realize, as Hope holds it between her fingertips and looks at her with blind distrust, that the Hope in this universe might not be jaded by the loss of her family, but this one might be jaded by something else.

Like her own death.

Oh.

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this one”.

------

The Mikaelson School library is even bigger than The Salvatore School’s. The Stallions were branded as the rich, spoiled, and troubled children of Mystic Falls, but the Mikaelson school rivals the self-made stereotype by a tenfold. Lizzie’s staring at a row of books about magic she could have only ever dreamed of reading — it’s obvious to her that Klaus Mikaelson’s vision for a school for the Supernatural was slightly different than her father’s. Somewhere witches, vampires, werewolves and others could live their powers to their full potential.

She picks a book from the rack, takes another one down with it, but Hope catches it before it can fully fall off the shelf — Necromancy: The Art of the Undead — and pushes it back in its place.

“If what you told me is true then your father built a school with the same purpose my father did”. She offers. This Hope, now a little less guarded and lit by the light of the full moon by the library window, is much softer, willing to momentarily let her guard down around the pretty stranger with the wavy blonde hair. “He wanted a place where I felt like I belonged. Somewhere he could offer a safe haven not only for me, but for all the witches, all the vampires, and all the werewolves who are forced to do all of this all on their own. The world is cruel and unrepentant. My dad knows that. So he and my mom bought this mansion, expanded it, and made it into a school for the Supernatural. It’s taken off since; we have a branch in Belgium and another one in development in South America. Argentina. Something about the wine…”

For the first time since she’d been blindly dropped into this dimension, Lizzie smiles. But after a much noticeable glance at Lizzie’s lips, Hope continues. “We thought all the Gemini witches were dead. They’re rare. Powerful —” Hope says. It takes a second for Lizzie to notice she’s sizing her down.

She doesn’t want to talk about how that makes her feel.

“You have to take someone’s magic to use it, right?”

And Hope offers her hand. Lizzie’s brows furrow, but she takes it anyway. She’s siphoned magic from Hope before, but not a fully triggered Tribrid Hope. When she drains her power Lizzie feels an adrenaline rush like no other, like sticking her hand directly into a fuse box and taking all the energy in Mystic Falls with it. She watches Hope carefully for any sign of pain, but Hope doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move, only watches their joined hands.

Then Lizzie raises her wrist, flicks it, and closes all the doors of The Mikaelson school in simultaneous fashion, making the building tremble.

“Something like that”. Lizzie grins and Hope lets her hand go. She’s grinning back and Lizzie doesn’t know why that makes her feel drunker than taking all that power from her. “The stronger the source the stronger and the magic we can do, but we can take from anything that’s come in contact with magic. This building, for example. A vampire, a werewolf — miscellaneous…”

“Well, here at the Mikaelson school we’re always looking for other powerful witches. I know you want to go back home eventually, once we figure out how to send you back, but if you want to stay, we can make room for you.”

They walk past the archway, to a display case with magical artifacts and weapons of all kinds. Some she recognizes, like the dagger that had started it all that brutally eventful day when Rafael joined the school, the urn, an enchanted compass, Papa Tunde’s blade…

“We’ve collected those over the years”. Hope motions to the display case. “Some of them were already in my dad’s possession before we put them here. The display case was enchanted by my aunt, so it’s practically impenetrable and impossible to open unless you’re a Mikaelson, but my mom thinks it’s important to teach these kids everything we can about magic and everything that could hurt them. Some of them —” She continues, sliding her finger over a display case of weapons. “— are just purely decorative though”.

Lizzie watches Hope’s finger land on the glass over a large broadsword.

“What exactly do you know about my family?” Hope asks. When she looks at the display again, Lizzie can see her own reflection next to Hope’s on the glass, and when she looks closer at the weapon, their faces on the side of the broadsword.

“Oh, you have no idea”.

------

[ PRESENT DAY]

Sparks cloud Lizzie’s vision. At the old mill, in the dead of night, Hope sharpens a sword Lizzie thinks is larger than her standing up. She’d poke fun at her, for wielding such a big weapon for such a small person, but if the past few weeks — days — weeks — whatever, had taught her anything, is how immeasurable the power Hope wields at her fingertips is. Maybe she could provide them both with a quip, if she wasn’t so busy staring at her, agape.

God, get it together, Lizzie.

She clears her throat and Hope stops.

“Hey! I thought we could get a head start with this old thing. Your dad kept it downstairs but I think it’ll give us the firepower we need. It’s a shame though, it’d make for a nice decoration”.

Lizzie wants to laugh. No, it would make for an awful piece of decoration. She’d seen it displayed neatly on a case, but ancient artifacts and old swords make her think of ancient cursed castles and the ghosts within them.

“So asks-too-many-questions Hope has now become knight-in-shining-armor Hope. I gotta say, I think I like this version a little bit better”.

“Because I’m not asking questions?” Hope challenges.

“That’s part of it”.

They both laugh, look at each other as Lizzie takes her place beside Hope, until Hope goes stoic again. She puts the blade down, wipes her hands on her dark jeans.

“Lizzie, I know this isn’t by far the most threatening monster we’ve ever faced but, I think you should stay inside the school. Kaleb and I designed a foolproof plan to kill the —”

“Why are you sidelining me?” Lizzie frowns. “I was of perfectly good help last time you almost got sucked into a portal too, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant —”

“Then what do you mean Hope? I know this isn’t about glory. So what is it? Martyrdom? Pushing people who care about you away?”

And Hope is surprisingly calm, despite the tension in Lizzie’s voice, despite the way she raises it, despite the way it cuts through the sound of the chirping crickets in the woods. “No. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s about trying to keep the people I care about safe. I don’t want you to end up somewhere you won’t be able to come back to us if we risk it”.

“What about Kaleb, then? Surely you care about him”.

A beat.

“Not the way I care about you”.

They stand there, in the cold of the Old Mill, looking at each other as Hope picks up the sword on the table, and Lizzie realizes for the first time, Hope is making an entirely selfish decision… And it’s all about her.

#hizzie #hizzie fanfiction #hizzie fic #hope x lizzie #legacies fanfiction

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stars-a-n-d-scars · 4 years

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10 Days of Summer - Chapter 1

Hi so no one was really seeing this over on ao3 and I worked really hard on it, so I decided to give it a shot over here. The next 9 chapters will be coming soon, so follow me or the tag to see them!

- Mia x

It was the hottest summer Buckinghamshire had ever seen. The rolling fields were dusted with the final remnants of spring, as the less-resilient plants wilted and those suited to the sweltering conditions flourished. The sun sat high in the sky for so long that one began to wonder if the night would ever come. Of course, it always did, but was rarely accompanied by any sort of liberation from the fervor.

The only relief to be gleaned from the unnerving sensation of being cooked in your own skin could be found in the cool waters of a large, clear lake that sat beside a homely manor, nestled in the hills of the county. Hidden beneath the outstretched branches of various trees, the lake had been subject to many a morning swim or late-night gathering over the years. It was here, in fact, that the four marauders could be found, on the hottest day of August, 1975.

With Euphemia and Fleamont gone to France for the summer, the boys had taken the opportunity to spend their last 2 weeks at the Potter estate. Of course, James’ parents had been reluctant to let the boys stay there without a set of rules, and so they created a long list of guidelines, all of which the marauders had plans to break before their return to Hogwarts on the 1st of September. It had already been four blissful days of this, and they still had 10 to go when we join the group.

Sprawled in their various positions around the lake, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were all basking the shade of the trees, simply taking in this pocket of bliss they had found in a world that was becoming increasingly more war-like with each passing second. The sun was shining overhead and they were with each other. And in that moment, that was all they needed.

The silence was broken with a loud splash, followed by an indignant “OI!” Remus clambered out of the water and up the bank, his eyes fixed on is assailant, vengeance in his expression.

“You fucking moron! I was reading! You could have thrown any one of them into the lake! Merlin knows a good dip would’ve done Peter some good, but no! You had to choose me!” His outburst was cut short when he got close enough to take in Sirius’ expression. His face, far from showing any signs of regret, instead bore his signature Sirius Black smirk. One corner of his mouth was upturned, his nose scrunched in a way that suggested both innocence and the opposite. It was an expression that, on anyone else, would have looked out-of-place and frankly stupid, but that befitted Sirius’ features perfectly. Remus had often marveled at how it drew out his devilishly handsome side.

Having lost his train of thought completely, his wand limp in his hand, Remus decided the best thing to do was to go and find a nice warm patch of sun in which to dry off. Sirius, however, had other plans. Remus had barely taken two steps toward his towel before he was grabbed around the waist and thrown, for the second time that day, headfirst into the water.

Sinking was an enjoyable feeling. Down there, in the water, nothing could hurt you. It was all up to you. Sound became nothing but a detached concept, and time joined it in its alienation. You could sink forever, simply being engulfed by the soft waves of the water, and emerge not a second later. Remus did just that. As his head broke the surface, spluttering, he lashed out wildly and managed to grab hold of an ankle. Pulling hard, the owner of said ankle tumbled into the lake next to him, and Remus soon found himself floating, face to face, with Sirius, once again bearing that ridiculous grin.

As both of the boys tried to catch their breath, time stopped. And it was just them. Remus and Sirius, Sirius and Remus. Floating in that never-ending pool of possibilities. Breaths became heavy as an invisible force seemed to draw them closer, closer.

Their noses were nearly touching now Remus could see every detail of Sirius’ eyes from here. He could almost pinpoint the exact place where blue leaked into grey, which leaked into black. It was strange, really, how anyone’s eyes could be so captivating. Almost a point of curiosity. Eyes had a purpose. They captured light, which was then translated into information, which was then processed by the brain to take in the person’s surroundings. So why did all logic defy Sirius’ eyes to be so beautiful? They had no reason to be. It wasn’t to make it easier to see. It wasn’t to draw in a mate (because merlin, he needed no help with that), so why? Their breath mingled in the moist summer air, their lips inches apart. It was taking every ounce of restraint that Remus had in his not to close the gap and snog his best mate senseless, but then again, that was the norm when you were secretly in love with your best friend.

The tensions was shattered by the snap of a book closing.

“Alright, boys, I’m bored”, James announced, stowing Quidditch Through the Ages in the small bag he had brought down from the house. The boys sprung apart, all nervous coughing and straightening of hair. Remus hurriedly turned his back on his – what, crush? It was more than that. But he knew one thing for certain; now was not the time to figure it out. This was what he told himself as he climbed up the bank and rolled out onto the grass.

In an attempt to restore himself to his former state of nonchalance, Remus rolled his eyes sarcastically (quite successfully, given the situation he was actually thinking about).

“You’re reading that book again? You’ve barely taken your hands off of it all summer!”, he said, pulling Sirius up the bank after him (and definitely not thinking about the sensation of his friend’s warm, wet hand in his).

Sirius grinned. “Aw, lay off him Rem. This is the first year Lily had gotten him a birthday present. Honestly, I would be concerned if he read it any less than a thousand times.”

This comment was met with a playful shove from James, but the lovesick boy couldn’t hide his grin at the recollection of Lily’s favor. James shook the memory from his mind (with difficulty, it seemed).

“I’m bored. Let’s go to town, grab a milkshake or something.”

Sirius, always keen for an outing to the muggle town that was located less than a kilometer from the Potters’ house, agreed almost immediately. Peter followed suit at the mention of food, and began rummaging in his pocket for the stash of muggle money his parents had granted him for the holiday. Remus was somewhat more reluctant.

“I don’t know guys. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t really want to go walking around a strange village in the middle of the night.”

“It’s not a strange village, Rem! Jamie grew up here!” (The use of the less-than-favorable nickname earned Sirius yet another shove). “Plus… there’s an antiques store. And last time I was there the owner said they’d be getting a new stock of books in this summer.”

“You know me too well”, Remus caved, and packed up his stuff. They went and dropped off their things at the main house, got changed into some town-going clothes and headed for the road that led down into the charming muggle settlement of Padbury.

It really was a lovely little town. Old cottages with thatched roofs skirted the border, with carefully-trimmed gardens of heather and honeysuckle. A beautiful old church sat in the town center, with a clock tower and a bell that frankly, shouldn’t still be operational, given it’s age. But, as many things in the town of Padbury, it seemed to be denied the effects of the passage of time, and instead chimed beautiful notes out over the countryside every hour.

The main road took the boys right into the middle of the town, where a collection of stores seemed to be waiting for them. The town square had everything, ranging from mechanics to diners, from supermarkets to florists. And, nestled in between a non-descript restaurant and a lavender-adorned wall, was a beautiful little antique store. Remus made a beeline for it, but was stopped in his tracks by James’ hand on his wrist.

“Come on Remus. Let’s go check out that comic-book store first! I love muggle comics, they’re so corny…”

Remus sighed, knowing that very few people could ever change his friend’s mind, and began to follow him across the street. But fortunately, Sirius was one of the people capable of performing that miraculous feat, and, in that moment, happened to be on Remus’ side.

“C’mon James. Remy doesn’t want to spend hours with you oggling at randos in spandex and getting inspiration for your next move at Evans. You take Pete over to the comic-book store, and Remus and I will go to the antiques shop.” Sirius shot a smile Remus’ way, which managed to both make his heart beat a million miles a second and stop it altogether.

James scoffed. “What do you want with an antique shop?”

“I have to get something for Reggie’s birthday, and he loves old dusty books and things. Plus, I have no desire to spend any amount of time dicussing whether or not Lily would think it was funny if you dressed up as Superman for halloween.”

Without giving James a chance to retort, Sirius dragged Remus back across the street and into the antique store before he even had a chance to register what was going on.

The second they entered the store, the rest of the world fell away. Somehow, the noise of the bustling street outside was silenced, and the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of an ancient grandfather clock that stood in the corner. Remus revolved on the spot, taking in every inch of the sequestered nook that they had just stumbled upon. Ornate carvings of all sorts sat in the windows, varying from animals to sprawling, intricate landscapes. Tapestries and paintings hung on the walls, each a moment of time, perfectly captured and eternalised on canvas. Furniture, bits and pieces and other oddments that had washed up in this place over the years were scattered haphazardly around the room, making for a display of authenticity that, although was now mostly gone from the world, seemed to have survived in this tiny corner of the English countryside. And the books. Oh, the books. They lined ever wall, and were stacked 10 high on shelves. Strewn and slid into every nook and cranny where they would fit. Not in any way categorized, but instead exactly where they were always meant to be. Delicate printings of Jules Verne, Ernest Hemmingway and even Shakespeare were mixed in with books as common as The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Remus closed his eyes and breathed. He breathed in the smell of dust and time. He breathed in the taste of the years these books had seen, the years he might catch a glimpse of between their pages. Be breathed because here, he could.

A soft hand rested on his shoulder and an even softer voice pulled him, somewhat reluctantly, from his reverie.

“Rem?”

Remus opened his eyes. It was Sirius. God, it was always Sirius.

“I’m going to look over here for something for Reggie”, he gestured to the carvings in the windows. “You take your time, okay? We have all day. Hell, we have all summer.”

Remus could do no more than nod as the comfortable weight on his shoulder lifted and he found himself alone again.

An hour and a half later, the boys exited the store with more books than anyone could possibly read, and two small, hollow carved flowers that Sirius had plans to enchant so that he could send his brother messages by placing a note inside his, and having it be transported to Regulus’.

They met up with James and Peter in the diner, and ordered four caramel milkshakes. When they came, Sirius whipped out his flask and added a little ‘extra flavour’, as he liked to call it. When the boys had finished their concoctions, they started to head home. However, it was quickly discovered that with the combined weight of Remus’ books, Sirius’ wooden flowers and James’ numerous gifts that he had gotten for Lily (“Maybe we should have gone with him, you know, for impulse control…”), it was going to be all but impossible to walk back to the manor. And so was hatched what was simultaneously the best and worst idea any of the marauders ever had. To rent a motorbike.

All they had to do was walk down to the mechanic down the street and rent one of the bikes they had going. They would only need it for a day, and would bring it back tomorrow. And so, the combined riches of James and Sirius making cost something of a trivial topic, the plan was enacted. The books were placed in a basket on the front, which was lowered so that Sirius could see. James’ takings from the trip were strapped (with slightly excessive security methods) to the back, and the flowers were placed in the side bags. After a few failed attempts at getting the bike started and close calls for the wooden ornaments, Sirius managed to be riding along next to the other boys at a steady pace. It took them no more than 20 minutes to get back home, at which point it occurred to them all that they were wizards, and could have easily bewitched all of the objects to float along beside them as they walked.

The boys ended the night collapsed around the living room fire. James charmed it so that it kept them cool, rather than warm, and Sirius entertained himself by making multi-coloured rainbows blossom from his wand. In the firelight, he looked over at Remus and smiled. Not a smirk, not a grin, a smile. And that smile what all it took for Remus to realise that he was totally and completely done-for. He was in love.

As Sirius went back to blowing bubbles, Remus began to drift off to sleep. The last coherent thought that entered his mind that night was this:

Merlin, it’s going to be a long 10 days.

I hope you liked it!!!

#10DaysOfSummer #wolfstar #marauders #maraudersera #siriusblack #remuslupin #jamespotter #hp #jily #peterpettigrew #lilyevans

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seriouslyhooked · 3 years

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Can’t Say No (At Christmas)

CS one-shot set in the future. Hope is three and Emma and Killian are still very much in the throws of a happily ever after, but Killian wants to do something special for Emma for Christmas. With the help of their family and the town, he manages to fulfill a Christmas wish for his wife in exactly the kind of over-the-top fluffy and sweet way you’d expect from me. Includes holiday surprises, Christmas cheer, and a healthy dash of true love. Rated T. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I really did not know if I was going to be able to get this drabble done, but I am so happy to say that I did and to share it with you all tonight. I know that this Christmas is going to be so different for so many of us, and that it has been a hard year of uncertainty and stress. My gift to our little fandom is this story, focused on Emma and Killian a few years after we got to see them in the show. It’s inspired by the spirit of Christmas, the cheesiness that only Hallmark movies can provide, and the song ‘No Problem’ by Dylan Schneider. I love the idea that Killian cannot deny Emma anything, and that at Christmas he has to make Emma’s wishes come true. I hate to spoil any more of this, but I will just say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know how the hell you pulled this off, mate, but I got to hand it to you, this is really something special.”

The words David uttered from the bottom of the ladder were high praise, despite the dig at Killian’s favorite endearment. Tonight though, Killian would let the jab slide. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to argue with Emma’s father. Instead he hustled down the rungs and back to solid ground beside his friend. He took stock of the room once more, running his hand through his hair and tracing each corner of the barn with his gaze. There was very little about the place that was recognizable. It had been sufficiently transformed, from an old, dusty tomb of farm equipment, to a space fit for the evening ahead.

“It pays to be a good guy in the end,” Killian joked. Playing up the early days of their knowing each other when Killian was anything but a hero. “Turns out I’ve helped quite a lot of people these past few years. They were eager to return the favor.”

“That’s true enough, but I think the fact that you did this all for Emma plays a big part too.”

There was no doubt about that, and the mere reminder of his wife brought a smile to his lips. She was going to be surprised by this, and there was nothing that he loved more than surprising his Swan. Killian could hardly wait for the look of excitement that would spread across her face, and the light that would appear in her jade colored eyes. Her cheeks would flush from realization, and her hands would move unbiddenly, as if she couldn’t quite contain the excitement or suspense. Emma was always the most beautiful of women, and a miracle to be sure, but when treated to a gift that was truly worthy of her, she was transcendent, his own personal star and tempting taste of heaven.

“Any word from Snow?” Killian asked, checking his watch and seeing they had made good time, despite the hecticness of the day. He had enough time to catch a shower and prepare himself, but he needed to be sure that Emma and Hope were sufficiently occupied in the meantime.

“Better – she sent a video while you were hanging the last of the garland.”

David offered his phone and Killian laughed at the sight. Snow and Emma had taken Neal and Hope out of town to a nearby ski resort that was hosting all sorts of winter activities for kids. In the video Emma, Hope, and Neal were all making snow angels, until Neal gave the signal and he and Hope pivoted to throwing snowballs at Emma. The only problem was Hope was far too little and bundled up in snow gear to be effective. She was having the time of her life though, and at the end of the video, Emma scooped their daughter up and nuzzled her close, bestowing a kiss on her curly brown hair, which had escaped its winter cap. Hope was a dazzling blend of him and Emma, but her goodness and ability to inspire love was totally her mother’s doing.

“Perfect. You good here for the time being?” David nodded, pivoting from his assistant role to commander in chief with the quickness of one-time prince. Content that his tasks were in good hands, Killian headed out, eager to put the next parts of his plan in place.

Things moved quickly from there. He showered and readied himself for the kind of night his Emma had imagined, ignoring the strangeness of his reflection as he did. He would never feel quite right in these damn tuxedos, but Emma’s wish was specific and it included the blasted suit. It also included a number of gifts for Emma and for Hope, which he pulled from the one place in the house Emma never ventured to – the garage. From the back of the storage space there, he grabbed a number of boxes that he’d stuffed away last week, and brought them all inside. After checking the contents were free from any water or dirt, he was convinced things were as they should be, and he left the gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

The only thing left to craft was the note for Emma that would set her surprise in motion. He hadn’t dared to write it out before, wanting to save it for this moment. It felt right to speak from the heart and to put in words exactly how he felt tonight. Still, it took time to get the letter exactly right, and he must admit he grew a bit sentimental when crafting it. A time or two he fell into recent and more distant memories of their lives together, feeling the warmth in his soul that could only ever come from the truest love. Luckily, he had enough of his wits about him and time was on his side. Soon he heard the sound of a car pulling up the drive just as he closed the envelope with Emma’s name and placed it on the tree, and with the stealth accrued in his past life, he slipped out the back door just before his girls came in.

“Mama, look! Santa came early,” he heard Hope say as he quietly rounded the side of the house. For a moment he was truly tempted to steal a look and watch this scene play out, but he reminded himself that there was still more to be done, and instead headed down the street to where a not so patiently waiting Snow was parked.

“Killian, thank God! I thought you’d never get here!” she exclaimed as he opened the door, but before he could reply, young Neal let his own thoughts be known.

“Mom, it’s been like sixty seconds. Literally. Look, I timed it on the stopwatch Henry gave me. 63 seconds.

“No, has it only been a minute? I’m so excited I can’t tell. It feels like forever. I was waiting for this all day. It was so hard not to spill the beans.”

“But you didn’t, right?” Killian checked, pivoting to Neal for the truth. When the boy gave him a thumbs up, he let out a breath. “Good. But it all might be for not if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, right. We’ve got to go. We’ve got a Christmas miracle to deliver.” Neal groaned at the words and Killian remained quiet prompting Snow to ask the question, “Sorry, too cheesy?”

“For tonight? No, strangely it’s just right.”

And with that, they pulled away from the curb, headed back towards the barn and the long-awaited surprise.

……………….

“Mama, look! Santa came! Santa came!”

At first Emma didn’t understand the words from her daughter. She was just trying to get her bearings after peeling the snow clothes off of Hope and discarding her own jacket on the hook by the door. Her boots were barely off and her scarf was still wound around her neck. She couldn’t imagine how Hope still had so much energy, but then she remembered – three year olds were like comic book characters, with a super power of endless energy.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow, honey,” Emma said, righting her clothes and letting go of a big breath, before walking towards the living room. “Two more sleeps until Santa.”

“But look, Mama, pwesents!”

Emma followed her daughters pointing finger across the way, and low and behold there were gifts under the tree that had not been there this morning. Her curiosity was peaked, but when she saw the white envelope secured in the branches of their evergreen tree, she had an inkling of what was happening.

“Killian,” she murmured walking forward, and running her fingertips across the delicate paper.

“Daddy?” Hope asked excitedly, and Emma nodded as she opened the envelope, only to fight off tears of love when she read the letter.

My Dearest Emma,

There are no gifts that I could ever give you that compare to all you’ve given me. I know and accept that, but this time of year is different. It’s a season predicated on love, light, and yes, even a bit of magic. So I had to try, for your sake and for mine.

Christmas is about showing the people you love what they mean to you. It’s about giving love and feeling love, and knowing that even in the dark of a winter night, there is hope and light ahead. It’s about reminding loved ones that you care, that you’re rooting for them, and that their dreams are your dreams too. You taught me that, you and Hope and Henry, and I swear to you that all I could ever want is to make you happy, and to grant the wishes you carry in your heart.

“Ooo, pwetty,” Hope said, dragging Emma’s eyes down to where her daughter had already begun opening the parcels below. Inside the white garment box was a gorgeous crimson colored dress, breathtaking in its elegant design. The satin and the beading were exquisite, and the color was to die for, and like something from a dream. Hope offered the box to her, knowing even at age three that it wasn’t the right size for her. “For you, Mama.”

“Thank you, princess,” Emma said, taking the box in hand, wanting to look at it in full, but knowing the letter was still more important.

You are everything to me, Emma. Everything and so much more. You and our children hold my whole universe in your hands. Tonight, I hope to take your hand in mine, and remind you that in life, all you really need is the perfect partner.

“He didn’t,” Emma whispered, looking down from the letter which had been signed with love by her pirate. Then she looked at the other presents Hope was opening. A beautiful pair of heels, a white fur muff, and a necklace that sparkled, along with all the same things for Hope that were more their daughter’s style and perfect for her size. The last gift was another envelope, with a card. On the top in cursive script it read ‘Selected Suitors for Emma Jones’ and the only name was Killian’s. “Oh my god, he did. It’s a dance. He planned a Christmas dance for me.”

“Dance?” Hope asked and Emma crouched down to help her daughter really open her own garment box, where a beautiful princess-style dress was waiting for her. As soon as she saw it Hope let out a sound of pure delight, clapping her hands together at a hastened clip. At that moment, the front door opened, and Emma looked, expecting to see Killian but instead seeing her son, dressed up in a tuxedo and looking downright dashing. It would have been a shock either way, but this year, when she’d been bracing herself for her son being away for the holiday, it felt like an even greater gift.

“Henry?” she asked, as Hope bolted for her brother. Instinctively, Henry scooped her up, accepting all her hugs and kisses before turning his eyes back to Emma.

“Surprise! Well, part of it anyway. But we’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“Where are we going?” Hope asked. Henry responded by whispering in her ear, low enough that Emma couldn’t hear. Whatever he said made Hope gasp. “Really? We’re going there?”

“Sure are. But we have to get ready. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got Hope. You do what you need to do.”

Emma was spurred into motion, grabbing the gifts marked for her and heading upstairs. In thirty minutes, she and Hope were both ready for whatever awaited them, and though Emma had her suspicions, she was in no way prepared when they arrived at the old McDonald farm. Pulling around back to the barn, there were dozens of people milling around. Everyone in town was here tonight, dressed up and partaking in merriment, but when they left the car and walked inside, Emma was truly stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she said aloud, taking in the gorgeous decorations. The space was totally transformed, a perfect blend of rustic refinement. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the air was warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon and honey, and the joy here was palpable. There was a buzzing electricity that crackled in the air. This was what all those Christmas movies strove to recreate but could never quite capture, and Emma took it all in knowing that her husband had made this just for her.

Scanning the room for him, Emma was first greeted with the sight of her Mom and Dad and brother. They came forward immediately, hugging her and Hope and Henry and extending their thoughts.

“Oh, honey, you look spectacular!” her mother exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands and looking at her red dress. It was a truly wonderous design, that hugged every one of Emma’s curves just right while still feeling of the season. It was classic and timeless and more than a little sexy, but it was appropriate for the night, when everyone was dressed to the nines.

“So do you guys,” Emma said honestly, taking in her mom’s sapphire ball gown, and her Dad and brother’s tuxes.

“I’m a princess, Grandpa,” Hope said happily and Emma’s father immediately agreed as the band began to play a slower melody.

“There’s no denying that. Care to dance with me, Princess Hope?” He asked, bowing to her daughter. Hope giggled but took Emma’s hand instinctively, looking at her for permission and clarity.

“What about you, Mama?”

“Don’t worry, sprout,” Henry said nodding across the room and using his favorite nickname for his sister. “Dad’s got her taken care of.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Killian, as if this was a first date and not years into their marriage. She couldn’t help the butterflies swarming within her, and then, like magic the crowd of people parted, and there, across the room was her man. It should have come as no surprise how handsome he would look. Emma was well versed in how roguishly hot her pirate could be, but in a tux it was a whole other story. Maybe it was the rarity of seeing him like this, or maybe Killian was just one of those men who was born to wear a tux, but either way she was struck by him. Everything seemed to stop around her, and all she could sense was the man who completely owned her heart.

A few moments later they were together again. Emma hadn’t even realize she’d been walking towards him, and him to her, but when he took her hand she felt her blood hum in anticipation. She was caught in his eyes, sensing the mixture of love and desire that was so intoxicating, and waiting for him to speak, because words in this moment truly failed her.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he said to her, the gravel of his tone washing over her and sending a shiver down her spine in that delicious kind of way. “The fantasies I’d conjured in my mind’s eye could never do you justice.”

“So you were fantasizing about this, huh?” she asked, her voice thready as she turned, purposefully taunting him with a view of all her best angles. This time he let out a low growl that spiked her desire to tease him. God damn, there were people around! How could she be this hot and bothered? Oh right, she was married to a sinfully attractive and impossibly romantic man. This was par for the course.

“Aye, love, and I promise those musings will prove more than satisfactory when we get home.” His voice dipped low and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her own building need. Then something shifted in his eyes, and she knew before he said a word that something immensely thoughtful was about to be shared. “I hope it’s everything that you wanted, love. Those blasted ‘Hallmark towns’ have a lot more built-in Christmas cheer than Storybrooke, but all it took was a hint that this was what you wanted, and everyone came together.”

It dawned on her that the wish he was referring to was one that she’d made a few weekends ago when they were laying in bed watching TV. She usually skipped the Hallmark Christmas extravaganza, but this year she was feeling sentimental. Maybe it was the fact that Hope was finally hitting an age where she was starting to understand the season, or more likely it was the pregnancy hormones from their little one on the way. She was only twelve weeks along, and wasn’t even showing yet, but her self-coined pregnancy induced crazy brain was in full swing, and had been from the start. The only thing getting her through most days was Killian, and then he went and did something like this… it was too much for her, she couldn’t take it.

“I love you,” she confessed, blurting it out like it was some big secret instead of established fact. “Like a lot. A lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot,” Killian parroted with a grin, pulling her with him out to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She melded into his muscled physique, trying not to swoon as the melody carried them away.

“You know I’m not as good at the whole poetic declarations thing as you are.”

“Few can be, love,” he joked. She raised her brow at him in quiet consternation, and he only laughed before turning her into a low dip on the dance floor and reminding her that he was in total control of himself out here. “But where words might fail you, action is your strong suit. You show me every day how much you love me, Emma. And every day I thank my lucky stars to have that love.”

He made a fair point. Emma was, after all, a woman of action, and so she decided to take some now. Though they were dancing, she stalled their moment to pull him in for a kiss, giving them both a taste of what was to come when the night drew to a close. The sparks between them ignited instantly, and without looking, Emma knew some of her magic was radiating from within. When they pulled apart she was almost dizzy from the delight, but Killian was even more effected. He had that boyish grin of his in full display, and that tiny hint of bashfulness that came when he’d done something really well. Only when she heard the oohing and aahing of the people around them did she realize their magic had created stars along the ceiling of the barn, making it appear that they were all dancing under an inky black sky bursting with constellations.

From a distance, Emma heard her daughter ask if it was ‘magic time’ now, but before she and Killian needed to step in, Regina told her ‘Not tonight, kid,’ and Henry whisked her off for her another dance. This gave Emma and Killian time, time to enjoy the fruits of all he’d done, and to revel in this moment for as long as they could.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. You’ve made it so perfect, I never want it to end.”

“What is it they say in those movies, love? Oh right – every day is Christmas when we’re together.”

And even though it was horribly corny, and she should have rolled her eyes at such a lame joke, Emma found that she couldn’t. She was simply too happy and grateful to feign otherwise. Instead she savored every moment of their Christmas dance, and the night they shared thereafter, knowing this would be one of the best days she’d ever had, and that somehow, some way, her pirate would find other means of making the future just as bright.

……………………

Girl I got a no problem Yeah, it's a bad habit, the way I gotta have it With or without you around All ya gotta do is call me, and tell me that you're lonely You're always stringing me out Yeah, they say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, so here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Girl, I should know better, yeah, I should know never To let you in just to leave If it's just two letters, then why can't I ever Find a way to piece 'em together Let's say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, I'm admitting it, here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Yeah, you already know if you're asking me What the answer's always gonna be It's gonna be, yeah Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Can't say no to you Yeah, you already know if you're asking me Girl, I got a no problem That the answer's always gonna be 'Cause I can't say no to you Girl, I got a no problem 'Cause I can't say no to you

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed this little dose of holiday cuteness and none of this is offensive in any way or to any story line. Most of you know I never watched the last season of the show, so I don’t know what they say happened to Henry and everybody. I only knew Emma and Killian did eventually have a baby girl named Hope. Anyway, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and healthy holiday season. I am grateful for you all, from the ride or die readers who comment on every post, to the people passing by who just wanted a little bit of Christmas cheer. You are such a force for good in my world, whoever you are, and I thank you for your light and kindness in these trying time. I wish you all the best this Christmas and in the New Year, and more than anything I wish you love! Sending my best vibes your way now and always, xE.

The Captain Swan Mixtape oneshot series:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195

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hrmphfft · 4 years

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controversial opinion time I guess but

hey gang? hey, gang. gang, hey. blaming your fans for them not reblogging your content enough (and saying that they’re Directly Responsible For Tumblr Dying) is an extremely passive aggressive, mean thing to do, and also completely ignores so many other reasons as to why engagement has changed on this site and posts don't circulate like they used to.

for one thing, whenever I see these posts, I rarely see the ops acknowledge the HUGE HIT to tumblr's userbase following the 2018 policy change/implementation of tumblr's terrible content filtering algorithm. tumblr lost roughly 1/3 of its engagement (https://mashable.com/article/tumblr-lost-a-third-of-its-users-after-porn-ban/) and countless content creators with it. some of them migrated to twitter and other sites, some of them seem to have straight-up vanished into thin air, and countless others lost their biggest or main userbase with barely any time to shift gears to something else. that's a huge, website-shaking change! but so often in these 'reblogs vs. likes' posts I don't see anyone acknowledging that and it makes me really upset!

you can't talk about the ways tumblr has undoubtedly changed these last few years and NOT address the nsfw ban! it's completely unfair to your fanbases to shift the blame of the biggest displacement of users the site has ever experienced on...the users who had no say in the policy change and reacted accordingly when the site started softbanning everyone, and filtering all sorts of tags from the search function (including important sfw ones, lest we forget The Entire Furry Fandom on tumblr discovering that basic-ass tags like #furry and #anthro were being blocked when the ban rolled around), and making uploading anything vaguely beige-colored a dice roll. tumblr still hasn't recovered from that, and unfortunately probably never will, not without some hail mary of policy changes and overhauls.

I've seen some pretty ageist shit regarding content engagement as well that tries to paint younger users as just Not Getting how tumblr functions vs. other social media sites like instagram and twitter, and on top of that just showcasing a really uncomfortable disconnect/animosity towards new users whose only crime is being younger than op and also more experienced with other social media platforms, it also is just. it's really unkind? it's super rude? how can you call your followers too clueless to know how reblogging works and then expect them to support your content via reblogging and not feel like you're insulting them until they give you the result you want?

moreover, lots of young/new tumblr users get the gist of tumblr's controls and get it very quickly! technology literacy is becoming more and more a part of everyday life for everyone, and if you really think that a teenager can't understand that reblogging puts a thing on their follower's dashboards, one of the main functionalities of the site (and also very similar to twitter, one of tumblr's main competitors), I really don't know what to say. sometimes people just straight-up don't want to reblog stuff to their blogs, and that's okay.

there's also a tendency to ignore the ways that blogging on tumblr has changed as its userbase has became more well-versed in its functions and, frankly, a portion of the userbase has grown up on this site. when I first started blogging on here, I was 17, I didn't use tags, I commented unrelated (and frankly sometimes really regrettably rude) replies directly onto artist's posts, and I basically just reblogged whatever I vaguely liked, and a lot of things I didn't totally get but thought Looked Cool/Funny so I reblogged anyways.

and that's fine, that's pretty par for the course of being young on the internet and doing whatever you want and having a good time (barring the rudeness, being respectful to people is the ideal), but as time went on my interests changed, my time spent online changed (I went from highschool to college to a full-time job that limits my time on social media), and I began engaging with tumblr's content differently. I made sideblogs for interests and content themes I didn't want on my main blog, I started liking stuff and then going back through my likes to reblog posts later, and generally speaking my number of posts a day dropped and I stopped being able to catch up on my dashboard every single day. and I'm sure my experience isn't unique for some other people on here.

a lot of the tumblr users I've known for a while just don't have the same level of intensity in fandoms like we did years back, not because of any malice or selfish, content-hogging intent, but because our priorities have changed. I definitely miss a lot of things about years past on tumblr when fandoms were booming and new Big Name Creators were cropping up all the time, and to be fair that's still happening on parts of the site if you know where to look! it's just different now. time has passed. people have changed!

that isn't to be defeatist and say that we can't show up for content we enjoy and reblog it, but instead that people can feel differently about stuff they used to adore, and be more particular about one thing or another they reblog, and straight-up miss stuff that they would have really liked but just didn't catch up on for a myriad of reasons. and that's also okay. engagement on tumblr is really, really tied up in personal preferences, and sometimes it feels like it does that more than most other social media sites. this is kind of the wild west of internet presences and everyone operates differently on here as a result.

and probably the most touchy point of all: no one is obligated to give you validation on the internet. no one. not even if they've read all of your fanfics you've worked really fucking hard on for forever and a day, or your comics that you've spent months, years, a lifetime researching and creating, or your beautifully, painstakingly timed and masked fan videos. they can absolutely consume any of these, and more, and they're still not obligated to reblog your work or promote you. it's not fair, yes, and it's completely understandable and super relatable to want recognition for the work you've done and the ways you've brightened other people's lives, but online most of your fans are still total strangers to you, and trying to control the behavior of total strangers because you’re owed their acknowledgement isn’t a healthy mindset to have.

and you can say that any fan of yours stops being a fan after they drop you for you lashing out at them for not unquestioningly giving you space on their blogs like you're owed, but being upset at being accused of bad behavior for what amounts to not wanting to reblog something this time around and changing your opinions based off of that is also a very understandable thing to do.

and that isn't because of any sort of innate cruelty, or pointed attack towards you. it's just because there is always a disconnect between the creator and the creation, and some people will never bridge that gap and engage with you more, or build a parasocial relationship with you, or seek out ways to support you. and plenty of others will do the exact opposite! it's a total dice roll because you're dealing with a lot more people than you realize scrolling past your content, and every person is different, and some of them don't fully understand how reblogs help a creator, and some of them do but just don't want that content on their feed, and none of them are inherently bad people for that.

I'm not saying creators have to be perfectly kind and civil and praise their fans all the time, but when you engage with your followers like it's a battle where you have to keep devising new ways to get them to share your content, it just comes across as super disingenuous, and people cop to that very fast.

it also, frankly, can make longtime fans who reblog your work regularly feel like their interest doesn't matter, and wasn't good enough, and that then it really is their fault that other people (other STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET) don't engage with your content the way you wanted them to. you don't owe them perfection, but that doesn't mean it isn't still an unkind thing to do.

so like. what can we do about this?

asking users to reblog your work is totally fine and can help! calls to action work more than nothing at all. it's possible to be respectful when asking people to reblog your work without also guilt-tripping them with "likes < reblogs" banners and passive aggressive tags/comments. generally speaking guilt is a really shitty motivational tool, and tends to breed more resentment than actual outcomes people want. like this post for example! I wouldn't have sat down and typed this all out if I didn't resent the hell out of being told I'm, personally, the reason tumblr is demonstrably not an ideal website for building a fanbase anymore. if I had that much power over this website I would have given the whole thing to the xkit team years ago and reveled in a functional website instead.

changing the way you post content might help! every site has its ideal posting days, times, and reasons for why some are ideal for one site and not another. doing a little research (https://sproutsocial.com/insights/best-times-to-post-on-social-media/) will yield some potentially helpful tips and tricks that might result in a post reaching more people. utilizing tumblr's search function is also important, and understanding the limits of the tag function (ie. only the first 5 tags of a post are used for tag searches) can help change one's habits to something a little more effective. this is why I tend to leave my tag babbling until after the main fandom/category tags on my posts, so that tumblr's jankass search has a better shot, haha

broadening your online presence can definitely help! this is by far the most terrifying option since it involves branching out onto other social media platforms, some of which really don't lend themselves to whatever fandom/content one produces, so like the other two above it's only a suggestion.

I keep coming back to twitter and instagram, but that's mainly because they're the two other powerhouses of social media right now, though admittedly they only really cater towards visual media (and mainly imagery, not longer video pieces), and they have their own weird quirks to learn and jank to deal with. but given how precarious tumblr's status has become in some ways, trying to build a presence on multiple sites means that you reach more people across the internet, and also means that if tumblr does yet another website-shattering policy change, your eggs aren't all in one basket.

of course these options aren't foolproof, and won't work for everyone in some cases or not at all for others, but my main point in all this is this: tumblr has irrevocably changed, its userbase has changed, and we are limited in the ways we can directly influence it, but there are still options. I'm by far not a social media expert, but then again none of the posts I've seen so far were made by social media experts either, so I honestly don't feel too bad for throwing my hat into the ring while we're all thrashing about in confusion

y'all aren't wrong that things have changed, but I'm begging you to have some compassion and to try not to turn the relationship between creators and consumers of content into a battleground, especially when a lot of the influences on these changes are things entirely outside of any of our's direct control.

also because it makes y'all sound exactly like this:

#long post #site engagement #a big long pissy rant because I am so goddamned tired y'all #especially because I can't escape these Hot Takes because none of them are tagged consistently #and new ones keep cropping up all the time #it's like whack-a-mole #every post I block sprouts another a few months later #tone doesn't carry through the internet very well but rest assured when I see shit like this #paired with people's screenshots of their like/reblog ratios #and it turning into a 'u think those notes are small check this out' party I get #really goddamned fed up with it #this is of course not comprehensive and mainly just me whingeing @ the whingeing but sometimes u just gotta

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spectral-musette · 5 years

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So, the Avengers: Endgame spoiler ban is lifted, and I’ve had a chance to mull over my responses, so I’m finally going to try to write up some thoughts. I was hoping to have seen it again in the interim, but that didn’t work out, so I’m relying on memory from one viewing – it’s possible I’ve missed or misinterpreted things.

Spoilers to follow, so scroll carefully, Ye on Mobile! Also, sorry about the Long Post (TM), I apparently I had a lot to say.

Time-wise, for its 3 hour length, the film didn’t feel long to me. It maintained its momentum and nothing felt laggy or tedious, even the big battles.

Time travel-wise… Okay, positive stuff first. I thought that revisiting the settings of earlier films was absolutely delightful and nostalgic. It felt very satisfying to have those call backs to earlier adventures and cameos of old enemies (Crossbones, Pierce, Zola, and, surprise, even Sitwell). The Cap vs. Cap fight was hilarious, and I loved seeing Steve so utterly exasperated with himself (“I can do this all d-“, “YEAH, I know.”). The scene in the 70’s was good, though some of the Tony and Howard stuff rang a little hollow to me. I think that’s mostly because I’ve always had trouble reconciling Dominic Cooper’s Young Howard Stark (who I’m very fond of, especially after Agent Carter) to the older version of Howard we see in various flashbacks. They look, sound, and act nothing alike; my friends and I always joke that Hydra replaced Howard sometime in the 60’s. So while an aged up Dominic Cooper Howard probably would’ve made me emotional, as it was, I was more moved to see 20 seconds of Jarvis than for all the stuff with Tony talking to his dad about fatherhood.

Using the “Quantum Realm” for time travel was… okay…. Insofar as the “science” of the Ant-Man films has absolutely never made any damn sense (and that’s …. fine. They’re funny and joyful, and I enjoy them a lot anyway. I don’t go to Marvel movies for “realistic” science fiction), throwing time travel into the mix felt like it just might as well happen. I guess I understand why they chose to go with the “nothing we do in the past can affect our own timelines” approach, but frankly it’s still giving me a headache. I also understand not over-explaining, but there’s a middle ground there that wasn’t quite achieved for me. I guess, based on the scene with Tilda Swinton (sorry, haven’t seen Dr. Strange and don’t know her character’s name) and Bruce, we’re supposed to assume that every journey to the past (cue Anastasia music) creates or perhaps just shifts the time traveler into an alternate reality that branches from their original reality at that point? And then when they travel back to the time they started from via the quantum realm, they return to their original version of reality. So the actions that they take in the past affect that alternate reality, but not the reality that they came from and return to. That’s the only thing I can figure out that makes sense to me at all, but unfortunately the film didn’t make that especially clear. Maybe seeing it again would clarify? So this is gonna be a big factor in how I feel about Steve’s ending, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

Also, a tangent re: time travel… While Tony (an engineer) and Bruce (a biologist) are both brilliant, this seems a little outside their areas of expertise! You know, wouldn’t it be great if we had a character who was an astrophysicist who could really tackle this type of thing - OH HEY, we do! I realize that there were probably issues with getting Natalie Portman back in a substantial role, but I love Jane Foster a lot and I would’ve loved seeing her work with Tony and Bruce to save the universe with a handful of Pym Particles.

OKAY, there’s an awful lot to cover, so I’m going to break down some of my feelings by character just to try to stay organized.

(First, a disclaimer that I haven’t seen Captain Marvel yet, so while Carol seemed like a great character, I don’t have a lot to say since I don’t really know her yet. That said, this seemed like an adequate introduction to the character and I am interested to know more. We have the problem of “if Fury could’ve called her anytime why didn’t he call her during the Chitauri attack/to fight Ultron/etc.” But all the individual titles that come after the team-ups have that problem a little bit… Where were the Other Avengers in Thor 2 or Iron-Man 3, etc.? Sometimes you just have to accept and move on.)

Briefly:

Nebula and Gamora, Tony, Bruce, Scott, with a quick note about Wanda and a very conspicuous absence

And the heavier stuff regarding:

Thor, Natasha, and Steve (and Sam and Bucky).

Nebula and Gamora:

While the Guardians aren’t really my thing, I did vaguely know that in the original Infinity Gauntlet comic storyline, Nebula takes the gauntlet from Thanos and fixes reality. I understand not following the comics exactly for the sake of surprise and to fit with the changed version of the universe, but it still felt wrong to totally take that away from her. Especially given what Thanos has done to her, personally, it seemed fitting that she was going to be the one defeat him. I’m glad she was still pivotal to the story, but it felt like an extra kick in the teeth that past!Nebula was the catalyst for Thanos catching up with our heroes rather than getting to be the one who saves the universe. And forcing her to kill her past self felt like it should’ve been treated with much more gravity than it finally was.

I’m really glad we “saved” Gamora by bringing the version of her from the past into the current timeline (however that works), but I feel so bad for anyone who’s really invested in Gamora/Peter Quill. It’s so heartbreaking that their entire history never happened as far as she’s concerned, that we’ve not only removed that very key relationship, but her character growth over the past how many years. It is at least hopeful; Peter remembers, and has the chance to woo her again, but that’s still got to sting.

Tony:

So Tony Stark sure did die.

I’m not sure… he really needed to? I mean I don’t think I get the rationale of the Infinity Gauntlet killing/maiming the user. I recall the handwavey line about gamma radiation, but if you don’t immediately die after using it, couldn’t you juuuust, say, use the Reality Stone to be like, “hey what if I wasn’t mortally injured”? Couldn’t somebody ELSE do that? I’m not sure I get that.

So that said, I’m not sure if RDJ was really pushing for “you gotta kill me off” for dramatic effect or just to step out of the franchise? It would’ve been kinda cool to see retired Tony working as Avenger-support, working on suits for Rhodey and future Iron-heroes (Iron Patriot? Iron Heart?), mentoring Peter and other youths, and living his nice life with Pepper and their munchkin.

But what a way to go, huh? Dramatic self-sacrifice saving the the planet(/universe?), and a funeral that almost everybody who’s anybody shows up for.

Bruce:

I’m with Valkyrie that I preferred EITHER version to PermaHulk Bruce. Honestly, the Hulk himself had sort of become an independent character, especially after Ragnarok (my issues with Ragnarok aside). So by Bruce settling into this “I look like the Hulk but I act like Bruce” limbo, are we … essentially killing the Other Guy? I don’t like that. I mean I prefer Bruce obviously, but I’m really uncomfortable with that solution.

Scott:

I really love Scott and he was delightful as always in this film. I’m heartbroken for him that he missed (another) 5 years of Cassie’s life, though. I’m also pretty sad we won’t get to see the little girl who has played Cassie so far in any future films since we’ve aged the character up to a teenager. Also, I would’ve liked to see more of Hope! I loved Scott and Hope’s little moment when Hope calls Steve “Cap” and they trade expressions between Scott going “SEE, HE IS REALLY COOL, RIGHT?” and Hope being like “Yeah, okay”.

Overall I guess the Ant-Fam is sorta tangential to the main MCU Avengers cast, so while it was nice to have everybody play together, briefly, I’m pretty content that we’ll see more of Hope (and Janet!) in future Ant-Man/Wasp titles.

- Similarly, while T’Challa and the Wakanda fam were definitely underused in Endgame (especially the entirely absent Nakia), Black Panther 2 is happening. It’s disappointing to not get a substantial amount of characters that you like in the big team-up films, but it’s good to know they’ll be returning later.

Wanda:

We are really leaving Wanda in a rough place of having lost her twin brother and her android boyfriend within a pretty short amount of time (that’s rough, buddy). Plus, one of the characters that we’ve seen her have a pretty strong bond with is Steve, and he’s out of the picture too. I’m not sure where we’re going with this character, honestly. Hopefully it’s not continuing to hurt her.

It really seemed conspicuous that nobody so much as mentioned Vision by name in this film. Wanda referred to him indirectly, but that was it. I get that Vision isn’t immediately able to be saved since he didn’t vanish in the Gauntlet event, but, yikes, can anybody besides Wanda please attempt to give a damn about him?

I know sometimes we like to pretend that Age of Ultron didn’t happen to us, but Vision was still an interesting character, and some major plot points of Infinity War focused on the value of Vision as a person. I feel pretty bereft that he’s (apparently) gone beyond recall with so little mourning.

Thor:

*heavy sigh*

Thor’s characterization was….???

Unpopular Opinion: despite its good points, I overall didn’t really like Ragnarok, and Thor already sort of felt out of character to me at that point.

Another Unpopular Opinion: I actually really love The Dark World. Thor’s relationship with Jane, and his characterization of gentleness and humility in that era really were important to me.

And I get that Hemsworth is genuinely good at comedy and probably likes doing it. But Thor has always been a funny character. We just used to be laughing with him instead of at him.

I was so uncomfortable with the way the film framed Thor’s brush with depression and alcoholism. Because Thor has lost so much at this point, he has every reason to struggle. I want to say that Thor wouldn’t have given up, but the same time I can believe that this almost unimaginable weight of loss (Frigga, Odin, Loki, Heimdall, The Warriors Three, Asgard itself) would take some toll. And yet the framing of his scenes treats his grief and despair as cause for humor. We’re expected to laugh about an unkempt beard and a big belly instead of being concerned about the fact that a character that we loved considers himself a failure. And there’s nothing funny about this situation to me. It just made me uncomfortable and sad. Revisiting Thor 2 and having him talk to Frigga was on the better side, but I’m disappointed that we couldn’t save her.

Natasha:

*heavier sigh*

Okay, I think a lot of the problem here is that it’s just really difficult to kill a main character any time other than in the last act (we also saw this problem in Star Wars Rebels, but that’s another can of worms). So because Natasha died at such a midway point in the movie, I still can’t shake the feeling that she’s not really dead. Nothing about it felt final to me. Clint trying to emphasize that, because Red Skull said so, it was impossible to bring her back (it’s freaking RED SKULL, why would we trust him???) just made me think even more that she was definitely coming back. Everything seemed to point to her dramatic reappearance and then it just … didn’t happen. That’s not to say it won’t happen in a future film, though, but it still feels deeply unsatisfying and unceremonious now, and that feeling really was a blow to my overall enjoyment of the film.

It also sat really badly with me that Natasha made this choice not just to save Clint (which I would believe; their friendship is really great and I love seeing Natasha’s extremely profound but non-romantic bonds with Clint and with Steve (though I would’ve preferred Natasha/Clint to Natasha/Bruce)), but because she fundamentally felt less worthy than Clint. I don’t like the idea that Natasha went to her death still feeling such guilt, still feeling like a monster (according to that awful scene in AoU), for the things she did as a very young person under the influence of brainwashing. I don’t like that at all.

I’m also really disappointed that we didn’t pursue Natasha and Bucky’s relationship from the comics in the MCU. Because the idea of two people with very similar emotional wounds coming together to support each other as they heal is just really appealing (#looking for baggage that goes with mine). That throwaway line in Civil War (“at least you could recognize me”) really had me convinced that we were going there. I guess we still could, but there are a lot of “ifs” standing in the way now.

Steve:

Another disclaimer: Steve is absolutely my favorite Avenger, and I ship Steve/Peggy really hard.

Aaand I still felt uncomfortable with the resolution.

Maybe it’s just the difficulty I’ve been having getting my head around the time travel shenanigans.

So a lot of the criticisms I’ve heard/read about Steve going back to the 1940’s to Peggy seems to be functioning under the assumption that Steve is living within the timeline as we know it in MCU canon, staying completely hidden, and just not changing any of the bad things that canonically happen: Bucky becoming the Winter Soldier, Hydra infiltrating SHIELD, etc.

But we’ve been told that time travel doesn’t work that way – that Back To The Future, Doctor Who way – in this universe, right? This brings me back to my Alternate Reality take. So my understanding is that after Steve returns the infinity stones to the points in time that the Avengers yoinked them from, he basically occupies an Alternate Reality for a lifetime (Tilda Swinton’s thing about the branched off timelines being consumed by the ~forces of darkness~ only applies IF the infinity stones aren’t returned, and he took care of that). And he could’ve done anything in that Alternate Reality – married Peggy, saved Bucky from Hydra, prevented any wars and disasters he could. Basically it was Steve’s own personal Happiness AU. And then, (presumably after Peggy’s death), he uses the Pym particles and the Quantum Realm to return to his original reality.

Except, in that case, shouldn’t he have returned on the platform instead of dramatically showing up on that park bench?

So…I’m confused and I don’t like it.

Even from the Alternate Reality take, the situation of that choice is complicated. In choosing to be with Peggy, he’s tearing himself out of the lives of all of his loved ones in his Original Reality – Bucky, Sam, Wanda, (whatever the situation was with Sharon Carter that we absolutely never resolved?), etc.

And we’re not completely sure it was a choice, exactly. It’s possible that in the ongoing work to return the infinity stones, Steve somehow got trapped in the past (don’t know why he would’ve had to go to the 40’s, but I guess he could’ve run out of Pym particles there and had to wait for Hank to invent them to even be able to make the trip back).

Also, narratively speaking, it feels a little like we’re invalidating Peggy’s grief, and her character growth that went on in Agent Carter (even if her happy ending with Steve is going on in an Alternate Reality). I wasn’t totally sold on Peggy and Daniel Sousa yet (though I do like Daniel as a character a lot), but Peggy had a whole lifetime that didn’t involve Steve except as a beloved memory. Where is she in that arc when Time Traveler Steve comes back into her life?

Also, even if it IS an Alternate Reality, there would STILL be a version of Steve frozen in the ice in the 1940’s in that reality. How do we deal with that?

And how do we deal with the fact that Steve isn’t the man that Peggy lost anymore. He still loves her, but he’s changed, he’s lived almost a decade since then. How do they find their footing with each other? I’m sure it isn’t impossible, but it’s interesting, and it’s not addressed at all.

I think that’s what bothers me the most – that this is a whole huge adventure – Steve’s entire LIFE – that we’re shoehorning in at the very end of the movie without showing any of the really interesting bits or answering any of our questions about it. I guess that leaves the situation as a fertile ground for the imagination, and maybe that’s a space that the MCU intends to explore someday? I would absolutely watch the hell out of Steve’s Time Travel Romance with Peggy, somebody take my goddamn money.

Anyway, I’m happy about Sam taking up the Shield as Captain America. Bucky-Cap also could’ve been great, but I feel like, with the place we left Bucky in his recovery, he doesn’t need that responsibility yet. Let him rest. Wherever we’re going with the series featuring Sam and Bucky is going to be really interesting, and maybe we’ll get to the point where Bucky really wants to work towards atonement and is ready to share the burden of the Shield with Sam? I’m looking forward to finding out.

Overall, most of my feelings about the movie were pretty positive. It was a complicated story to tell with a lot of characters, and mostly it was handled pretty well. Some of those threads did fall flat for me, but they didn’t totally invalidate the parts of the movie that worked.

#spoilers #Avengers Endgame spoilers #Endgame spoilers #long post #I had in my outline that I was going to talk about Clint #but I accidentally skipped that #it's briefly in Natasha's section #I could go into it more but this is already too long

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sepdet · 5 years

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Really good screenwriting tip by David Wappel on Twitter that also applies to other kinds of writing, including comics. Unrolled:

THREAD ALERT

Fellow screenwriters!

A thread on writing action lines, with special attention paid to word order and what I call "anchoring" nouns.

These tools are part of my process, and I’m not advocating for them over anything else. I just want to share some of the things I think about as I write.

Here we go!

Let's start off with what I think action lines are aimed to accomplish:

1. Describe what is happening.

2. Describe how we see what is happening.

A lot of the scripts I read from aspiring writers often focus solely on 1. More experienced writers focus on 1 and 2. The best writers do both, but hide 2 so you don't even realize it’s happening.

1 is important. It's the story.

But 2 can help the way you tell it.

And that’s what I’m going to focus my thread on, and hopefully illuminate how craft can allow you to make those choices in the script, without bumping the reader out of the story.

Alright, so we're focusing on "how we see what's happening"

The first thing to discuss is the ongoing debate over "We see" and all its forms.

As I said, I'm not here to advocate for one thing over another. Generally, I try to avoid "we see" (though I use it twice in my latest spec) mainly because I think it's implied in the fact that it's a screenplay. In most cases of "we see" it can be struck and nothing is lost.

"We see a bushel of apples under a tree." could just as easily be "A bushel of apples sits under a tree."

I think "we see" works is when you need to explicitly limit the audiences view. So you're more describing the fact that they "only see" what is right there.

We see a single flower. It stands alone in the center of muddy, war-torn No Man's Land as mortars kick dirt into the air.

It's important to clarify we only see the flower at first, otherwise the reveal isn't as powerful.

Ok, so that’s a quick bit on “we see” but now I want to talk about what I really came here to talk about:

these things that I call “anchoring nouns”

An “anchoring” noun provides the unit in which I want the reader to interpret the visuals I’m presenting. It is the noun that “anchors” the reader to how they should be picturing what is unfolding.

While remembering that I totally made up this nomenclature, an “anchoring” noun (AN) can be defined as the first noun you encounter which provides context for the size of the action you’re being asked to hold in your brain.

From my experience, the human brain doesn’t do anything more than it needs to. It’s super lazy (or super efficient depending on the water in your glass).

So if I say “picture an apple” you’re only going to picture an apple. You’re likely not going to picture an apple hanging from a branch of an apple tree, or in the mouth of a pig at a luau. You’re probably just going to picture the apple.

And that apple picture is of a certain size: just big enough for the apple.

This is where you can ask: What camera shot contains this noun? Is it really, really far away? Probably not. Are you so close, you can only see a part of it? Also probably not.

It’s probably just big enough to see the apple. Might be what’s considered a close-up. So without mentioning a camera at all, your brain is actually creating a shot size.

If I say “the stem of an apple” you’re likely picturing just the stem. (ECU)

If I say “An apple” you’re likely picturing an apple. (CU)

If I say “Five apples” maybe we move to a MCU

A bushel of apples.

A row of apple bushels.

An orchard. (EW)

But all those things have an apple in them.

I’m trying to use ANs to orient you to what they are.

(stem, apple, five apples, bushel, row, orchard)

The AN is (with a few exceptions) the first noun you encounter, which provides context for the size of the action you’re being asked to hold in your brain (because remember, you’re not going to hold more than necessary, you lazy-brained human)

So in one case, that AN may be “apple,” but in another it’s “bushel,” and in another it’s “row” These are the first nouns the reader encounters in that description...until another one bumps them off. (More on that later.)

Ok, now at this point, some of you may be thinking, “But there’s no action there. You’re just describing things in different sizes. That’s not screenwriting.”

You’re right, so let’s put this notion into practice.

Read the following.

Sally reaches into her back pocket.

Her hand slips into her back pocket.

Both describe the same action, but you’ll likely see them differently.

In the first, “Sally” is the AN. You may picture anywhere from a MW to a MCU, but generally, you’re probably picturing a person.

In the second example, “hand” is the AN. Most likely you’re picturing a CU.

Neither one is inherently better than the other, but understanding how we interpret words into images can help you make choices that have different dramatic effects.

It’s also worth noting that I had to change the verb to fit the noun. Reaching is an action that generally involves the shoulder, arm, and hand, so using that verb will almost always trigger a wider shot in the brain. But a hand slipping, that’s subtle, and small.

Is this “directing on the page?” I think yes and no. On set, the actress just has to get something from her back pocket. She can do it however she wants. Also, the director can shoot this however they want. But at this point, as the writer you ARE the actress and director.

So act and direct how you think this story should best be told.

When it’s time, they’ll come in and do their jobs, and hopefully that collaboration will yield results better than any of you could’ve done on your own.

Alright, so that’s ANs.

Now let’s talk about word order.

Your word order can help suggest camera moves, edits, tone, you name it.

In my writing, first and foremost, I try to use an AN to orient the reader to the shot they’re looking at.

Then, I try to move through the action using...

word order

grammar

sentence structure

...to suggest camera moves and edits.

Below are five different ways to write the same action.

Each have the slug line INT. KITCHEN.

How do you interpret the camera moves and edits (if any) in each example below?

John scrubs dishes in an empty kitchen.

In an empty kitchen, John stands alone at the sink. Scrubbing dishes.

A sponge swirls on a dirty plate. John scrubs away over the sink. Alone in an empty kitchen.

As he washes the plates, John sighs, alone over the kitchen sink, the table behind him covered with ten more dirty plates.

SCRUB. SCRUB. John’s eyes look up, and out the window. A sigh. He returns to his scrubbing.

Disclaimer: In no way am I saying that there is a 1-to-1 with the way things are written and their visual interpretation. As in all things screenwriting, there are no “rules.” I’m just saying that certain writing is going to suggest different visual tones for the same action.

Now, look at the difference between the first example and the last. In the first, the action of scrubbing the dishes seem to be the important thing to notice.

But in the last, it’s about his emotional reaction. I don’t mention dishes.

(Yes, the other examples primed you for dishwashing. I may have gotten a freebie there. Depending on context, I may or may not be able to do it in the script.)

Alright, remember when I said that a new AN can bump you off an old one. (Do you? Lazy-brained human?) Let’s look at one of the examples above to see it in action. Let’s look at the third one, which I’ll repeat here.

A sponge swirls on a dirty plate. John scrubs away over the sink. Alone in an empty kitchen.

I think this is clearly communicating three shots, in specific order. The sponge on the plate. John, the holder of the sponge. The empty kitchen. Each new sentence has a new AN to trigger you to see something else, and this time I’m going from CU to a W.

The new AN’s “bump” you off the previous one, and you’re just seeing images, one after another. So you never have to worry about a reader getting visually stuck in one shot, unless you want them too…

A sponge swirls on a dirty plate under running water. The sponge stops. A sigh. The water runs. The plate and sponge are put down, unfinished in the sink. SQUEAK. The water stops.

Hopefully, that keeps you visually rooted in the sink. (Once again, you already have some context, so I’m getting some freebies there with what’s going on, but hopefully you understand the concept I’m going for.)

In summary, your action lines should be doing more for you than just describing what’s happening. They should describe how we see what’s happening, and hopefully some of the things I’ve said can help you think about how you might achieve that in your work.

I should note here, that in my process, this is one of the last things I do. When the characters and story are working (1), this is a fun tool you can pull out to orient the reader and communicate camera and shots (2).

I’ll end with a metaphor that I often think about when I think about the act of screenwriting. I think of a screenwriter as a sculptor. And I used to think that the screenplay is the sculpture, but I don’t think that fully captures what we do.

I’d say what’s more accurate is that you’re the sculptor, and the reader’s emotional journey is the sculpture. Words are your chisel, and the screenplay is the act of chiseling.

Everyone else’s job on a film is to use magic to bring the sculpture to actual life.

If this helped you in anyway, feel free to retweet and share.

And please let me know how you all are thinking about action lines! I love hearing nifty little tricks and paradigms for the nuts and bolts of screenwriting craftwork!

Write on!

- David

#writing tips

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ijaws · 5 years

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My Captain Marvel Review

Before I do this, I want to clarify a few things. There are going to be both personal opinions on the character and simple objective observations from a different perspective that what most people are doing in defense of this character. I am not sexist. I am not racist. I am not misogynistic. I do not identify with the Alt-Right and consider myself a centrist. I believe that modern Feminism (Contrary to Classical Egalitarian-Feminism) is a toxin in society and now it has translated into the MCU through her movie.

I just wanted to put this out there first because any time I make any sort of evaluation of her movie or her as a character I get bombarded with hate, personal attacks, and people telling me why I hated the movie or something when they don't personally know me and aren't me. (You just hate strong female characters! Bitch, go look at my profile. I fucking LOVED Rescue, SCARLET FUCKING WITCH, and Nebula is literally one of my most favorite characters in the MCU... They were ALL badass in End Game)

So if you like her as a character and if you like her movie, please do not think that my observations of her or her movie are a personal attack against you. I've had so many people take my viewpoint personally for some reason and it no longer is a debate as they close their minds off to anything I say and start becoming immediately dismissive. I mean no disrespect in any of my viewpoints. I just feel like I needed to put this out there because... again... more often then not I'm dealing with some radical feminist that will foam at the mouth and protect her beloved character from any opposing viewpoint irrationally.

Lastly...

PLEASE. DO. NOT. REBLOG. WITH. A. REBUTTAL. AND. BLOCK. ME. LIKE. A. COWARD.

FUCKING. @. ME.

I’M JUST LOOKING FOR SOMEONE WITH A BRAIN TO GIVE ME A GOOD COUNTER ARGUMENT TO THIS.

Okay, so, I personally believe that Captain Marvel and her movie were a toxic addition to the franchise. This is going to be a little long, obviously, but I would appreciate it of you read through. Clearly you don't have to because it is a huge ass wall of text but taking in viewpoints that aren’t constantly validating your own is HEALTHY... So please read?

Firstly, they retconned the Skrull, that are one of the most recognizable villainous races in all of fiction like Klingons and Orcs, to be refugees of a war that they'd lost. In the comics they have 100% control of the Andromeda Galaxy as one massive Empire and the Kree were definitely not in the position to eradicate the Skrulls. They could put up a good fight, but I feel that the Skrulls were too well fortified in Andromeda to really be defeated by the Kree. That's the first, shortest, issue I disliked about the movie. They nerfed the hell out of the Skrulls to being simple refugees... and innocent. I'm sorry, but no... This is like going into the Star Trek Universe and retconning the Klingons to be some peace loving hippies. They were also some of the most human characters in the entire movie besides Nick and the Black Best friend. (I can't remember her name... she didn't stand out to me.) They were DEFINITELY more human than Carol Danvers herself. The moment when Talos goes to his family on Mar-Vells ship and hugs them was definitely the most human part of the entire film and it cemented my thoughts on the character. My favorite character in the entire movie was Talos. A lot more likable, interesting, and funny than Carol Danvers was... I wish the movie had entirely about him at this point because it would have been a better film by FAR.

Secondly, the themes. There was a clear message that this movie was trying to sell long before it even hit theaters, and that was Modern Feminism. The Air Force advertisements featuring female pilots, the girl-power advertisements, and so on. The movie was clearly trying have a target audience of young women or young girls and there's nothing wrong with that. However, I started to feel a bit off put by the movie when it showed literally ever male human character that wasn't Nick, Coulson, or the Skrull Leader, Talos, was a sexist prick. LITERALLY every single one of them were sexist. Even her Father. I understand in the comics her and her father never got along or something of that nature, but I personally feel that if they wanted to push the whole sexism narrative that they should have lead it with her father and kept it with her father. Instead they extended the narrative to every male in the entire movie and in her flashbacks.

I feel there needs to be a specific section on the flashbacks alone. Okay, so, in her flashbacks quite literally every single bad thing that happened to her was because of a man.

Carol was riding in that Go Kart and the boy told her she was going too fast. Of course in a feminist movie we can't have a girl listen to what a boy has to say, even if he may know more about what she was doing than she did, and so she goes and crashes horrifically. I thought it was a brutal crash.

A second later and her Dad appears looking down at his busted up and bleeding daughter, that I'd be taking to a hospital in a heartbeat, saying that she didn't belong there.

Okay, that alone is unrealistic to me to begin with. There are a VERY few fathers out there that would have the first words coming out of their mouth being that she didn't belong to be out there. It would be about her health, asking if she was okay, and they would be looking her over as best as possible. However, I will agree with the Father's initial comment that she didn't belong out there on the track. Why? Well I wouldn't want my daughter, who was too stubborn to listen to a boy that was giving good advice when she was doing something dangerous, to do anything dangerous again. Damn right she doesn't belong in dangerous, male, situations and jobs if she's going to act that way. The girl is going to get herself killed.

Then there's the whole, 'You know what it's called a cockpit, right?' scene and that alone, while not improbable, was unneeded at this point. We already had two male characters expressing their inherent, evil, sexism. Oh, but they went even further than that and got the motorcycle guy in there as well telling her to smile and everything. (Woulda been the first smile in that movie so far at that point for Brie.) While that does happen they’re continuing to beat a dead horse… Then later on it shows her being bullied on a beach when she’s REALLY little by BOYS he knock her down.

Then in Basic Training they’re all yelling out to her that she’s gonna die or and things of that nature are more or less unrealistic as well. My father was in the military and was going through basic around the same time that she was and he went into the same branch. The Air Force. When you go into the military they tell you that you are to be colorblind. That you are to be ONE force. ONE unit. You are a team and NOTHING should stand in the way of that. The means that racism, sexism, or any sort of predisposed idealism that puts on person down while raising another up is to be crushed and blown away like dust in the wind. It has no place in the Military as it reduces its effectiveness. So in that training scene where they’re yelling at Carol that she’s going to die and that she’s going to fail is NOT a proper representation of what happens in basic training. Maybe the Drill Instructors to stress you out or drill it into you that what your doing is dangerous and the military itself is dangerous, but not by your fellow team members. If anything your fellow team members are supportive because there are group punishments for your weakest link in your unit… If they fail, you all fail. If one person is stupid, you ALL get punished for their stupidity. So for her fellow trainees to be putting her down like that makes next to no sense and it is CLEARLY intimating the issue of women in the workplace not being able to do what a man can do or women simply being put down in the workplace for simply being women.

So, I don't necessarily agree with the route in which they went about the topic of sexism. The execution and presentation were not done well in my opinion. While you may have felt it resonated with you, what about the boys and the men?

Marvel Movies have always been oriented towards everyone. They've been family movies. Not one Marvel Movie has been solely and strictly for men. Why? Because movies with male leads don't focus on the fact that they are MALE leads... There's nothing special about a male lead or male actor in a film. They don't feel the need to point it out or make the male actor into a champion for men and masculinity.

So, again, what does this film tell you about men? It tells you what I've described. That men are sexist oppressors that want nothing more than to see women fail, smile, and do what they say. That men think women can't do the same job that a man can and that women aren't as strong as men. That's a message that is being conveyed here... and that's the ONLY message you get on the subject. That's the bottom line. There's no, 'but not all men-' in this film. There's no redemption act, representation (I know a lot of you love that word so here you go... You won’t like it cause I’m using it in a way you disagree with it.), or presentation of the fact that men will stand for women in face of true sexism. There isn't any sort of male role model to learn from in the film. Nick is there for comedic relief, Coulson is barely in the film, and the Skrull isn't even human. There's no outreach to TEACH boys and young men that sexism is bad. It simply states that men are sexist. That's literally it. This movie was for girls and girls alone, which is a failure in and of itself on the side of Marvel, and it is simply teaching them that men will do this. That boys will do this. There's nothing there to teach boys to not do that or any sort of redeeming quality for men in the film at all. Is this wrong?

So, yes, if you think it presented the female experience realistically, which I felt it did not in certain scenes, than I am not one to try and change your mind. I've never been in a woman's shoes and I've never experienced sexism from men like that. I'll let my opinions stand for themselves.

While I agree that sexism is truly a problem in society and still lingers, I simply feel that it wasn't presented well enough. That's my main issue with sexism in this film.

On a personal level I felt that if you’re a guy going to see this movie that you should prepare to feel like an asshole. The entire film is intimating that men are oppressing women, that men see women as objects that need to smile more, that women aren’t as strong as a guy or can’t do what a guy can do. It puts men in a bad light and sort of validates the Modern Feminist talking points and agendas that all men are evil, shallow, vile creatures that want to oppress women because they think that they are objects and aren’t as tough, strong, or brave as men.

(If Marvel had made a Movie about a Man that acted arrogant, cold, emotionless, and super super super strong and made all the female characters in his past trying to put him down, were annoying, were emotionally manipulative and controlling, were emotionally abusive, were using men for their wealth or income, and were lying cheaters with no sort of redemption character for women to prove things differently I think that this movie would have tanked.)

Thirdly, a shallow Carol Danvers. With all that being said up above, I feel like that all that made her character VERY shallow. The ONLY reason she’s a pilot, the ONLY reason she’s ‘strong independent woman’, the ONLY reason why she’s a hero is because she’s a woman that’s been put down by men her entire life. To prove that she can be a strong independent woman, and that men can’t keep her down anymore. It’s a consistent attitude of hers to challenge men regardless of who they are or to act arrogant towards them as when first seen by Nick Fury. Immediately upon seeing him she acts a bit sassy, or arrogant, because Nick isn’t knowledgeable about the alien conflicts that exists or doesn’t believe her about the shapeshifting Skrulls. This entire issue sort of cheapens the character as well because if you created the character with the sole purpose to be a conduit or avatar for feminism and feminist talking points… where do you go from there? All of her personality traits, all of her history, and everything that made Carol Danvers who she is about the oppressive nature of men. Once that is solved, which it is in her movie after she gains the full scale of her powers, where do you go from there?

For example in the Amazing Spider Man movies with Andrew Garfield his story was that his parents had died a long time ago and he knew nothing about them. After discovering some papers belonging to his father it becomes a story about self-discovery. To learn about his parents and what happened to them. To understand and connect with them in the only way he could which was through Dr. Conners. Later, since he is on this journey of discovery about his father and mother’s demise, he forgets to walk Aunt May home and Uncle Ben is mad at him for not remembering to do this and that he needs to start being responsible. Peter gets frustrated because this relates to his own past and current journey of understanding. To his father. Why did his father die? Why was he sent to his Aunt and Uncle's house when he had a responsibility to Peter and to be a father? Peter leaves out of this anger and selfishness and Ben attempts to follow. Peter had made his way to a convenience store and was trying to buy some milk but is a few cents short and lets a thief rob the place due to the cashier being somewhat of an asshole about it. While on his search for Peter, Uncle Ben encounters the thief and tries to stop him and that gets him shot. Uncle Ben dies and Peter realizes that it's his fault. That he had the power and strength to do the right thing but simply stood there and did nothing. That is what begins his quest as a Superhero. If a good person has the power to do something to save someone’s life, but doesn’t, are they really a good person? Are they just as bad as the man that pulled the trigger by letting someone die? So that becomes who Peter is. Peter isn’t a hero because he’s a strong white kid who got bit by a weird spider. Peter isn’t a strong hero because he’s a man or because women or men were keeping him down. Peter is a strong hero because he learned the HARD way that if you have the power to stop someone from doing something that could cost an innocent person their life, and do nothing, you’re just as bad as the guy that pulled that trigger…

Hell, Shazam’s is, ‘If you can’t save your family, what kind of Hero are you?’ I’m not sure if I got the wording perfect, but even the REAL Captain Marvel here stands for something that has deeper meaning and truth. Shazam is ALL about family and fighting for them...

That is a much deeper, much BETTER, character traits than the simple feminist argument that Brie Larson’s Captain Marvel stands for. That she’s a strong because she’s a woman. That she’s strong because she won’t let men keep her down anymore. That she can do whatever a man can do and do it even better. I simply feel like that cheapens the character and is a very boring, shallow, and limited origin story because throughout a Hero’s career they will be challenged on their morals and the reasoning behind what they do. (And GIRL POWER is already something that has been established in Cinema for well over 50 years...) Batman’s is vengeance versus justice. That is a HUGE topic for the hero and he has been struggling with that issue for decades. An argument could be made towards Shazam that his reason for being a hero and doing good, to protect his family, isn’t FOR his family or BECAUSE his family… it’s because he’s scared to be alone again. That could be a good inner struggle for Shazam. So what sort of personal beliefs are going to be challenged when it comes to Captain Marvel? What sort of personal dilemma or inner struggle can she possibly go through? Why is she a hero? Cause even if you extend her origin story away from her childhood and to the Kree Empire where she was being trained to be used as a weapon against the Skrull that goes back to the issue of oppression and ties in with the rest of her history. Carol has been oppressed by men, told what to do by men, and has been controlled and used by men (Yon-Rogg is the face of this issue, and once again he’s a man.) for their personal gain and desires.

I’m sorry, but it’s just weak and shallow. There are no further storylines that you can have that sort of validate her reasoning of being a hero without making it some gigantic feminist issue. If the issue isn’t about feminism then she’s simply trying to do the right thing to do the right thing… and ANYONE can do that. It doesn’t make her special. In fact, there’s nothing really special or ultimately heroic about her. All she is a woman that achieved powers and saved a couple of refugees and declared war on a corrupt Empire. It’s… weak. Steve Rogers fights for Freedom and fights against Tyranny and was forced to reevaluate America and Shield during Winter Soldier and Civil War. These CHALLENGED his very meaning of being a Hero and what he stood for... The Hulk and Bruce Banner fight because they’re constantly being hunted to be exploited for their power, and not just by people who want to use him for evil, but also by people that want to his power for good… the bottom line is Bruce and Hulk fight to escape being used as a chess piece. They just want to be left alone. In this sense they aren’t even a hero, and that makes it even better for them as a character because it makes their choices and issues interesting to say the least… Black Widow fights because she’s trying to make up for the evils of her past. Tony fights because he wants to protect who he loves most and that he feels he has an obligation to Earth and to protect innocent people from being killed like the ones that were being killed by the weapons he designed to protect them in Iron Man 1.

I’ll leave that there though. I think the last thing I want to talk about is the Mary Sue aspect of captain Marvel. Just so people don’t immediately hate me for calling her a Mary Sue I’m going to copy and paste the definition.

Mar·y Sue

noun

noun: Mary Sue; plural noun: Mary Sues

(originally in fan fiction) a type of female character who is depicted as unrealistically lacking in flaws or weaknesses.

"she was not a ‘strong woman’ so much as an insufferable Mary Sue"

So Captain Marvel is a Superhero and Superheros, in order to make them appealing and relatable, are ALWAYS shown to have flaws, weaknesses, and things about them that make them more human to the target audience. That’s what makes them lovable and likable. That you can relate to them and understand where they are coming from and sympathize with them. That you can watch them grow as a character and enjoy their Hero’s Journey. In this movie Captain Marvel has no character growth. Carol Danvers is literally the same as she was in the beginning as she was in the end except she has all her powers and now she hates the Kree. Carol Danvers has no personality flaws whatsoever except, maybe, arrogance and trust issues, and those aren’t exactly traits you want to share with her. They aren’t healthy character flaws. Besides that she barely has a personality to begin with for there to be any sort of flaws. ‘She’s spent six years learning to control her emotions,’ I’m sorry, but no. That argument is weak. Just because you learn how to CONTROL your emotions doesn’t mean that you sacrifice your personality in the process.

So with that being said she has no sort of personality flaw about herself and it is shown in the movie that she has no physical or emotional weaknesses either. In the entire movie the only time she was beaten was because of a surprise attack by Talon. From then on out she has consistently kicked ass, NEVER lost a fight, and NEVER physically struggled against any enemy. Carol was super strong and could NOT be stopped. It sucked any sort of drama or any sort of tension out of the movie. You knew she was going to win and be the hero because at that point nothing could stop her. Carol is a badass woman that could not be stopped. Yay Girl Power!

The best opportunity for her to have been given a weakness and a struggle was when she unlocked her full potential and had access to ALL of her power. To make her struggle to control it for the entirety of the battle except towards the end when she takes out those nukes sent down from Ronan. Even Peter Quill had issues controlling his powers and was CONSTANTLY being beaten by Ego until Yandu finally told him that he doesn’t control his inner strength and power with his head… he uses his heart… and that Power Up that he gets after that, after struggling and losing the ENTIRE movie, is extraordinarily satisfying. You LOVE it when he gets that power up. It’s like how in Wonder Woman she gets that power up after losing Steve and she goes ape shit… There’s a huge emotional lead up and tipping point in those scenes, but Captain Marvel doesn’t even do that. Instead she simply closes her eyes, and opens them and has complete control of her powers. It was ridiculous too because she hadn’t trained with even a decent percentage of her powers at her disposal before! For six years she just trained with a small itty bitty bit of her powers and then suddenly she has full control over ALL of her power as soon as unlocking it? That’s like a Fireman being trained to put out fires with a garden hose for six years only then to be dragged out to use a full on fire-hose at full power that usually requires more than one person to control and expected to do just fine…. Like, I’m sorry, but that’s not how that should have worked. After that point she’s basically Superman and cannot be stopped. There’s no fun to it anymore… it’s just a boring overpowered character being overpowered simply because she’s a woman… and this is only going to lead her up to being the hero that fans want to see lose. A LOT of people don’t like Superman because he’s a sort of Gary Stu in a sense and they ALWAYS love seeing him get his ass beat. By Batman, Shazam, Wonder Woman. Everyone enjoys seeing the most powerful man of all get taken down… Especially if they’re on their high horse like Captain Marvel is with her arrogant ass.

Oh yeah, the last thing I wanna add… They had to sex change Mar-Vell, the ORIGINAL Captain Marvel, because, of course, we can’t have a feminist movie with a feminist character that we’re trying to make into a feminist icon look up to a man after all. They had to have her looking up to a female Amelia Earhart sort of character instead of a Red Baron or Wright Brother sort of figure… That kinda peeved me as well.

So with ALL that being said, I simply think that she’s toxic because her entire character is based off of feminism. Modern Feminism at that. (I draw a line between Classical Egalitarian Feminism that I actually agree with, and Modern Feminism.) The issue is that not everyone agrees with the agenda of Modern Feminism and since she’s now the face of it, they’re just going to see an agenda they hate rather than a character they dislike. They’re going to see the Feminist Icon that they despise and won’t pay attention to her as a character. It’s going to cause a rift in the fan base, as it already has, and if she’s going to be made the face of Marvel like they want her to I can bet you that people are going to be finished with Marvel. Real, TRUE, fans of the MCU, not blue haired normie feminists as I’ve heard them described, are going to feel ostracised for not agreeing with Captain Marvels Politics and the fact that she’s so powerful simply because of girl power. I feel that with the introduction of her as a Feminist Icon that any movie she’s in is going to allude to that and buy into her Girl Power - Ex Machina stuff… Into the Mary Sue in her and it is going to cheapen every movie forward that she’s in. I mean, people are already talking about not seeing End Game because she’s in it and that they’re afraid she’s going to be the sole reason why the Avengers win… and frankly I’m afraid that she may be the reason why the Avengers win too and that would bother me a LOT. Not because she’s a woman, not because I hate women, but because she’s a terribly written character with no personality and is beyond arrogant. Especially in the, ‘Lets get Thanos.’ End Game clip that Marvel Released… It bothers me a lot…

EDIT: https://youtu.be/6byj_uqzGh8 Here's more proof that she's a Mary Sue in the MCU films... They buffed the fuck out of her over the MCU Thor who has been nerfed to hell.... "Captain Marvel is MUCH WEAKER than Thor."

#captain marvel #marvel comics #mcu #brie larson #marvel #end game #feminists @ me #debate this #read this #mary sue #can someone with a brain debate me #captain mary sue #brie #feminism #feminists #sjw #mary sue characters

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loadsuperior898 · 3 years

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Crimebustersthe Creative Archive

Meera Borwankar JCP, Mumbai and head of crime branch

Crime Busters Wiki

Earn 125 points on every ticket you buy. Rack up 500 points and you'll score a $5 reward for more movies.

The Kickstarter campaign for the first issue of The Crimebusters is complete, and was a rousing success. Thanks so much to everyone who supported it! Im really looking forward to sending out the comic and hearing what you all think. And Im hard at work already on issue #2, so Ill certainly be sha.

She made history on July 21, 2004, when she took charge of Mumbai?s famed crime branch to become the first woman ever to head the department, which has to contend with, among other things, one of the world?s most organised mafias. The 46-year-old mother of two teenage sons pipped Arup Patnaik, special IG of the Special Reserve Force, and K.L. Prasad, an IG at the state police headquarters, to the post. Borwankar is known as one of the toughest officers Maharashtra has had ? her bosses, subordinates and the criminals she has tackled will heartily vouch for that. During her stint with the state Crime Investigation Department from 1993-95, one of the important cases she investigated was the infamous Jalgaon sex scandal in which local politicians were accused of duping young girls with false promises of jobs and loans. For her work, Borwankar has received the President?s Medal for meritorious service in 1997, apart from the Police Medal and the Director General?s Insignia. Educational high point? She has studied policy analysis in law enforcement at the University of Minnesota in the US.

G. Aswati ASP, Gadchiroli

When asked about how a woman police officer can make a difference in the lives of ordinary women, Aswati replies, ?A woman is seated in front of me right now. She is telling me about things in her life that she can never tell a male police officer?. Aswati (seen here with her husband C. Dorje) emphasises that women will certainly make a difference as far as crimes against women go. She may be the daughter of acclaimed Malayalam filmmaker Adoor Gopalakrishnan, but her aspirations have little to do with art. Known as an officer of integrity, she belongs to the 2000-batch of Assam cadre and was posted in Assam before being transferred to Maharashtra as assistant superintendent of police of the Naxal-infested Gadchiroli region.

Made in Maharashtra: Maharashtra has in fact a high number of women police officers compared to other states. Apart from Borwankar and Aswati, the state police has Sridevi Goyal, special IG, railways; Rashmi Shukla, deputy IG, prisons; Archana Tyagi, superintendent of police, Ratnagiri district; Maria Fernandes who is posted as deputy commissioner of police, headquarter-II, Mumbai police; Supriya Patil-Yadav, DCP, state intelligence department in the state police headquarter in Mumbai, deputy inspector general of police (prisons), superintendent of Arthur Road jail, Swati Sathe; and deputy commissioner (traffic) Pradnya Saravade. Saravade works as the deputy commissioner of the social service branch which falls under the direct supervision of Borwankar. As DCP in-charge of the port zone, she had unearthed a racket of exotic foreign-made cars being imported into India through corrupt port officials.

Blog Archive 2020 (152) July (25) June (30) May (31) April (30). Picturescape biology. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Damayanti Sen DCP, DD, Calcutta

On the phone Damayanti Sen, deputy commissioner of police (special), detective department, Calcutta, sounds as no-nonsense a person as she later transpires to be. She doesn?t mind interviews, she says, provided the talk revolves around her ? no personal questions, please! When you see Damayanti Sen (left), sitting in her large Lal Bazaar detective department room, she looks incredibly young, a tiny figure in her large straight-backed leather chair. But she exudes self-confidence. Because she doesn?t think that one?s gender makes any difference to the job at hand. Not in her profession and not in any other. ?No, I don?t think that women are better or worse off in a job. The only reason people ask a lot of questions related to my gender, is because there are fewer women in my profession now than men. But as that changes, people will stop being so interested.? Sen did her bachelors and masters in economics from Jadavpur University, both with a first class first. She took her IPS exams in 1996 and says she just happened to drift into the profession. She is married and her husband is in teaching.

Kanchan Chowdhury DGP, Uttaranchal

The country got its first woman director-general of police with Kanchan Chowdhury taking over as the head of the force in Uttaranchal since last year. Chowdhury wants to do ?something concrete for the women of Uttaranchal? and is planning to set up counselling centres in every district, not only in Uttaranchal but in the entire country. ?These centres could provide shelter, counselling, rehabilitation and other needs of oppressed and depressed women,? she elaborates. When asked how she felt that about being the new DGP of Uttaranchal and commanding a force of so many men, she says, ?Nothing special. But being the head of the police force, I shall see that my command is obeyed in letter and spirit.?

Chowdhury is, interestingly, the inspiration behind the Eighties? TV serial on a woman cop, Udaan.

Kanwaljeet Deol JCP, Delhi

As joint commissioner of police, Delhi headquarters, she has reduced several hardened criminals to their quaking knees, and as an official who brooks no oversight from her teams, is regarded with considerable awe by her colleagues too. Currently holding two posts, she is also the acting special commissioner of police, administration. She swears by T.S. Eliot and Marquez, but when it comes to her own literary skills, prefers to write something like 101 Tips To Survive The City (Penguin, 2002). Deol belongs to the Union Territory cadre, and joined the IPS after an MSc in physics from Punjab University in 1977, chiefly to be with her husband, Shamsher Deol, who had qualified for the IPS the year before. She says she owes her knowledge of the nitty-gritties of the police system to her first posting in 1978, in Panjim, where she had three police stations under her. She thinks policing is like mothering. ?Policing has been regarded a man?s profession for a long time. It?s a fallacy. I think policewomen give a more palatable image to the public. Team. They provide a soft side to a hard profession,? says Deol, who is on a mission to create a more effective police force in the 10 years of service that she has left.

Vimla Mehra JCP, Crime Against Women Cell, Delhi

Crime Busters Wiki

As joint commissioner of police, crime against women (CAW) cell, Delhi, she is taking joint commissioner Kanwaljeet Deol?s work forward (it was Deol who was at the forefront of the cell in 1986). Mehra, who has been heading the cell since 2002, and has brought in some very effective changes in its functioning, started with a posting in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands after her induction into the IPS in 1978, but has held an array of posts which required a fair amount of courage on her part. She was posted as additional DCP, south, after the infamous 1984 riots in Delhi, and has worked in the Central Reserve Police Force for four-and-a-half years, which included two years in the Rapid Action Force (RAF). The CAW cell deals mainly with matrimonial crimes, including domestic abuse, dowry deaths and other related crimes. Mehra may also be credited with starting the 1091 Helpline, a 24-hour distress call centre for women, a mobile helpline which immediately starts for the destination called from and a post box service, where women can write to P. Box 5353 for help. Now a strong 170-member force, the women?s crime police also imparts training in self-defence. ?I am all for improving our gender sensitivity in 2005,? says Mehra.

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thebibliomancer · 7 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #152: NIGHTMARE in New Orleans!

October, 1976

It’s a shame sometimes when timing just doesn’t work out. I was lucky enough with a bit of double time that I got the first Mantis appearance out in time for her screen debut. But here we have what would have been a perfect Halloween issue (it was even published in October!) and I got to it a week too early!

I could just put the blog on hiatus and post it in a timely fashion but what Avengers-related content will people read in the meantime? I couldn’t deprive them of that.

So lets get to this book that features Wonder Man being pretty blase about being an unliving slave.

And never wonder how far down that inverted cross goes.

So.

Last time: After many trials and tribulations and some drama and bad decision making, the Avengers selected a new roster. Its a pretty typical Avengers roster. Really only missing Thor. We have Iron Man, Captain America, the Vision, Scarlet Witch, Yellowjacket, Wasp, and Beast.

Oh and when they announced the new roster, a giant crate that was shipped to them burst open to reveal the not-quite-dead Wonder Man who accused Vision of being a mind-taker. WeeeeeeEEEEEEoooooooooo mind taker.

And forty-two seconds has passed between issues and undead Wonder Man is still repeating the same accusation.

Cap is worried that for some reason, this will drive the crowd to become a hysterical mob but before that can happen, Wonder Man collapses.

The Avengers act fast, picking up the collapsed dead superherovillain and frenemy.

Sam Reuther tries to get in their way to interview them but Iron Man and Cap tell him to fuck off.

How dare he try to do his job right now? Although in fairness, he really shouldn’t be getting in the way.

Iron Man muses that the Avengers have been under a lot of stress going through one crisis after another since... hell probably since the Celestial Madonna Saga.

Anyway, Wonder Man is brought inside to the Laboratory of Hanks. Where Hank and Hank examine him. And here’s the weird thing Hank (Pym) discovers. He’s not actually undead. He’s alive. Dun dun dun?

Meanwhile, outside, Sam Reuther casts suspicions on the Avengers for their secrecy, alluding to Watergate-era White House.

So Jarvis kicks him off the property. Cast your suspicions from outside the gate, newsman.

Meanwhile, inside, the Hanks brief the others on what they discovered. Wonder Man has all the biometrics of a living person who is alive and not dead. Except one weird thing. His brain has been wiped clean of all memories except that one sentence he kept repeating.

It’s pretty chilling.

Vision decides to feel the human emotion of guilt over all of this. He has decided that Wonder Man’s accusation is true. What right does he have to the mind that was rightfully Wonder Man’s?

Nobody asks to be born, Vision. They literally can’t. And you’re not to blame for your asshole dad. But, eh, emotions are frequently irrational.

Scarlet Witch calls shenanigans on Vision’s self-loathing. Whoever sent Wonder Man to sort of spook the Avengers is the one responsible for his condition. Not the Avengers and definitely not Vision!

So she heads outside, blows the lookie-loos away with a localized hurricane, and goes to investigate the crate Wonder Man came in.

Maybe there’s a return address or... clumps of dirt.

What is this, a Batman story?

Instead of a Bat-Computer, Scarlet Wanda has her new witchery and she uses the witchery to psychometrize the dirt. She gets an image of men performing a ritual around a fire and of a place. A big easy place. A New Orleans place!

Oh boy, the Avengers are going to New Orleans! Maybe they’ll team up with Monica Rambeau oh she doesn’t exist yet. Dammit.

Yeah. So she tells the rest of the Avengers what their precious science with all of its chemicals and instruments couldn’t. WONDER MAN HAS BEEN TURNED INTO A ZUVEMBIE!

Which is a made-up word that Marvel uses to not get in trouble with the comics code for saying the zed-word.

I imagine that Marvel Zuvembies would not have sold as well. What a world that would be.

So the Avengers pack up some stuff, including Wonder Man’s not-deceased body, into a Quinjet and blast off.

And the trip is long enough (and the Avengers are outgoing enough, which I guess is the expected default in the superheroing biz) that we get some character moments.

Wasp apologizes for pressuring Yellowjacket into rejoining the Avengers. He was just so grim recently that she thought it might be good for him to get back into the action-adventure life. And forcing him into things for his own dubious good is the only tactic she has for helping him.

He apologizes for being grim but says that he’s grown out of trying to be a swashbuckler. He feels kind of silly in the superhero life.

Wasp insists that he’s just insecure because being insecure is basically Hank Pym in a nutshell.

Meanwhile also, Beast is grappling the absurdity of the situation, I guess? One would think he saw weirder things when he was an X-Man. Like an island that walked like a man? But whatever.

Cap tells him that when you’ve seen the things he’s seen, nothing is really strange anymore. True story: he fought a Nazi vampire (now there’s a mashup: Captain America/Hellsing). So voodoo hoodoo ain’t a big to do.

Iron Man chimes in that he teamed up with a werewolf recently, perhaps being that guy who always has to one-up any stories. And then he very insensitively points out that when you come down to it, Beast himself looks like a monster.

Which isn’t exactly a thing that Beast was thrilled to here. So he spends the next hour and forty-eight minutes exactly brooding.

The Avengers land their very boat looking Quinjet at an abandoned Algiers airport and then get a quick ferry ride across the Mississippi.

Because fording would have been far too dangerous with Iron Man along. He’d sink like a stone.

In New Orleans, Scarlet Witch spots one of the people she saw in her dirt vision and the Avengers immediately start running at him screaming because nonchalantly walking up isn’t an option when you’re dressed in bright colors.

Everyone in the bar goes running because uh yeah a bunch of superheroes just starting running at them and they all have some petty crimes on their conscience but the man in the borsalino hat knows they’re after him.

He must escape to warn the Master! But not that one! I think!

Wasp and Yellowjacket give chase, in tiny size. And Wasp is gratified that Hank is sounding more like his old self, cracking jokes and such. And as much as he won’t admit it, she knows that the superhero life is in his blood.

Anyway. Yeah. Yellowjacket ties the man’s shoelaces together and this superpowered application of a childish prank sends the man down long enough for the Avengers to catch up with him.

But he refuses to tell them anything so Scarlet Witch steps up.

And she casts a spell. And in a voice inaudible to the Avengers but audible to the perp, she says something so terrible that it makes him crumble with fear and spill the beans.

Le Mort Bayou.

So that’s where the Avengers go next.

And the trudge through the swamp is long enough for a character moment! I love when there’s enough transit time for some character moments.

Although its an unhappy character moment. Beast tries to reassure Vision that they’ll know who was behind this zuvembie stuff soon and then Vision can relax.

Vision: “No matter what the outcome today, certain doors have been opened, which before this were closed. There are questions which require answers, questions I must ask myself -- concerning my ‘immortal soul.’”

But Vision realizes time and place and quits bumming everyone out.

Scarlet Witch hears a silent calling which makes Wonder Man stir. A zuvembie master’s summoning!

So they set him down and follow the shambling plot element from 140-some issues ago. They let zuvembie Wonder Man go ahead and watch from the... trees or something.

And watch in apparent mute horror at the voodoo ritual they discovered. It has everything you might expect a hollywood comic voodoo ritual to have. Zombies Zuvembies pulling themselves out of the ground, drums, people dancing with snakes.

Wonder Man joins the other zuvembies in front of the ringleader. The man in the chicken suit. Black Talon. Because, he’s black. If he didn’t have black in his name, someone might think he was not in fact black.

But Black Talon is surprised and alarmed to see Wonder Man. He should be in New York. Zuvembies can’t catch a plane back to New Orleans. What’s going on here??

But rather than really question it, he decides to just destroy Wonder Man.

So the Avengers jump out and start punching.

And apparently punching a voodoo cult is just what everyone needed after all the craziness in their lives recently to get them back in rare form.

Except Vision.

He’s doing the thing where he lets people jump through him but only in a very bitter way. Scarlet Witch is worried about him, not taking any joy out of people bonking heads while trying to double team him.

Wasp and Yellowjacket dismiss Black Talon as inconsequential to go fight some of the cultists. Which turns out to be a mistake.

Black Talon can apparently summon the spirits of the loa and a nasty sounding fellow called the serpent god Damballah.

And something enters the clearing shrouded in shadows and the Avengers all fall. The cultists and zuvembies too.

Its a huge, oppressive force that feels like being stepped on and crushed by a giant.

But there is one person unaffected.

The Scarlet Witch.

She’s getting a real good showing today, huh?

Her role as a sorceress apparently protects her from the being-stepped-on effect. But Black Talon just tries to strike her down with magical bolts of possibly lightning.

And while Scarlet Witch’s power comes from within, Black Talon’s might is the might of the dark god Damballah.

And after getting blasted some more, Scarlet Witch has an epiphany.

Dark god. Lurking shadowed.

So she throws a burning branch at the dark god, exorcising him.

Good job, Wanda.

And then she uses her witchery to pelt Black Talon with wood until he gives up.

It was a good showing for Scarlet Witch. Unfortunately, Black Talon doesn’t know anything.

Wonder Man was brought to Black Talon by his servants already “alive” with a message from someone known only as “the one whose will we serve.”

So the mystery has unpeeled into another mystery. Like an enigmatic onion.

And also, Wanda is quitting the team.

Whaaaaaaaaat?

She beat Black Talon and Damballah but what if she hadn’t? It’s possible that she could have maybe possibly lost the fight due to her incomplete self-knowledge! She needs to go on a journey of discovery!

Vision doesn’t even argue. Just wishes for god to give with her. Even though she’s decided to have her ‘I must go off alone’ journey right in the middle of the nowhere bayou.

Couldn’t it have waited until they got back to New Orleans?

Also: Damballah is apparently an actual loa under vodou and doesn’t seem to be an evil shadow god of evilness. Good job respecting other cultures, Marvel!

Also x2: next time the Living Laser again? But that guy was the worst! He’s probably the one who was whining about Wasp not loving him in the previous issue.

Ugh.

Well at least I’ll get to see him get his ass kicked again.

Hey. Why not follow @essential-avengers? Its the dedicated sideblog just for these posts and also I accept questions. Like. About Avengers stuff.

#Avengers #Black Talon #Scarlet Witch #the Vision #Wonder Man #Beast #Captain America #Iron Man #the Wasp #Yellowjacket #you remind me of the babe #today Wanda broke a man just by talking #and we'll never know what she said #until we get a better explanation i'm assuming that leaving wonder man on their doorstep was just trolling #like the superhero equivalent of a flaming bag of poo #the triumphant return of robo angst #and the stunning debut of fuzzy angst #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging

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a-d-n-d-journal · 4 years

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Game Session #8

Characters:

Bakunawa, dragonborn paladin; copper scales, chainmail, a shortsword and shield

Zastu, dragonborn rogue; white scales almost completely covered in a hooded cape and mask, leather armor, short bow and shortsword + dagger

Rysiel, half-elf druid; simple clothing and leather armor, scimitar

Teir, tiefling warlock; vibrant gold skin and black hair w/silver highlights, horns, hooves, expensive-looking clothes and leather armor, carries a dagger as his only (physical) weapon

NPCs...

Sydiri Haunlar, human (Chondathan) fighter; brunette, chain shirt, dagger, shortbow, wooden club

Alara Winterspell, human (Rashemi) fighter; deceptively light and warm head wrap, chain shirt, dagger, shortsword

Kaelen Zam, human (Illuskan) fighter; bald, small handlebar mustouche, chain shirt, dagger, greataxe

Bats! Teir and Guard Kaelen manage to leave the swarm, taking minimal damage based on how far they had to move. Bakunawa also leaves the swarm, but takes a swing at the bats flapping around him, causing a few to fall to the ground dead. There are still several hundred bats. Zastu uses her prepared action to breathe acid at the swarm, causing a swath of them to fall to the ground and create a little gap that lasts for half a second. Rysiel casts a really impressive Moonbeam, causing a wide cylinder of silvery light to appear within the swarm, dealing damage on the bats' turn for about a minute. But on the bats' turn, they settle down and return to their roost. Rysiel dismisses his cool moon spell.

DM note: this is a difficult situation for me as a DM--I know that technically the party can completely kill all the bats in the swarm, but it will deplete their resources by quite a bit. While they won't get damaged much, they need these spells for a later fight, which you'll see... The point of this encounter was to fill out the atmosphere of the cave and give a sense of what the villagers have been through--the event was scripted to end when I rolled a 6 on the bats' turn, which happened in round 2... But I can't tell them any of that, so they make the best choices they can based on what they know: there's a swarm of bats attacking them and the villagers they came to rescue.

Rysiel reaches the bad rooster and manages to calm him so he doesn't crow again. Bakunawa talks to the defacto leader of the Nightstone villagers--a dwarf named Morak Ur'gray, the owner of the inn. He explains about leading the villagers to the caves, and their capture by the goblins. The party stops briefly to pick up some weapons, handing shortswords to the injured and disarmed guards they found with the villagers and a shortbow to Baku (with arrows from Zastu). Then they take a Short Rest outside the cave to heal some HP (B:10, R:9, T:5, Z:4) and regain some spells (B:0, R:2, T:2). The priest of Lathandar (Hiral) performs a very fervent prayer over the party--but no one is sure what it does. Hiral isn't a spell-casting cleric. Teir uses a ritual to cast Alarm over the area while Rysiel distributes muffins and cheese to the party members, then smokes a pipe (+inspiration).

The party prepares to fight the mystierous ooze monster that Snigbat told them about by getting into a marching order: Front: Rysiel Middle: Bakunawa, Kaelen Back: Zastu, Teir Rear: Sydiri A lantern still swings from Kaelen's belt, and Zastu manages to rig her bullseye lantern to shine (mostly) ahead of her. After a short winding tunnel, the party arrives in a small cave full of stalagmites. In the middle of the cave is a particularly large stalagmite full of holes. Three swords lie at the base of the stalagmite--two very rusty and pitted, one shiny and nice. Two tunnels branch off the cave on opposite ends. Rysiel casts Produce Flame and tosses it down one each of the tunnels. Nothing happens, but he sees that the tunnels are winding. He picks up a rock and throws it down a tunnel. Again, nothing happens. The druid investigates the cave (roll:3), but just ends up cutting himself on the shiny sword. Teir attempts his own intimidation investigation of the cave (roll:5), but the sword seems to be the only interesting thing to him. His knowledge of history (roll:24) tells him that this unusual sword with strange (giant) runes was one of many used to kill many goblinoids. Bakunawa claims it happily. The party (correctly) deduces that one of the tunnels leads out of the cave complex to an exit they had scouted earlier, so they go the other way.

Rysiel reaches the end of the other tunnel at the head of the party. A nice waterfall splashes into a deep (5ft) pool here, and there are several slightly glowing green mushrooms. Zastu hears a sound behind her, and reacts just in time to see an enourmous black blob oozing toward them!

DM note: I was so, so sad that the characters didn't roll high enough to discover the Black Pudding inside the hollow stalagmite, and NONE of them suggested looking into the holes... SO, they had their squishiest characters placed closest to the monster when it attacked...

Round 0 Zastu breathes out her acid breath in shock, but the acid doesn't affect the oozing blackness. She pushes past Teir and Bakunawa in an effort to get away from the gross thing. With Teir being the closest target now, the Black Pudding stretches out a massive Pseudopod and hits the warlock square-on (critial hit: 10 bludgeoning + 20 acid; Teir had nearly full HP with 17, leaving him at -13), knocking him out and covering him with acid that destroys his armor (-2AC due to a crit). He would have died outright*, but a faint glow covers his body and Hiral's blessing is used up, leaving Teir in a stable condition at 0hp**. Teir tries to use Hellish Rebuke, but he doesn't realize that he's already unconscious, and the ability fails. Bakunawa tries to impose disadvantage with his Protection ability, but he's too far away. Round 1 Bakunawa declares a Vow of Enmity on the Black Pudding for fatally wounding Teir, granting him Advantage on attack rolls. He then swings his new +1 Longsword at the ooze. The ooze quivers and is cut in two, some of its blobby goodness being lost in the process.*** Zastu hides in a dark corner to watch. Rysiel steps up and conjures a flame blade, lighting up the tunnel and dealing a large amount of fire damage to one of the new smaller blobs. He forgets to step back behind Bakunawa though, and both blobs attack him. The first misses, but the second gets its pseudopod on Rysiel, just barely knocking him out as well (5 bludgeoning + 22 acid; -1AC; he had 27 hp) Kaelen steps in, swinging his new Greataxe and cutting the injured ooze in half again. Round 2 Bakunawa breathes out a huge gout of fire, filling the upper parts of the tunnel (missing Rysiel and Teir, who lie on the ground), scorching the Black Pudding on the walls and destroying the two smallest ones.**** Zastu comes out of hiding to shoot an arrow at the remaining ooze, dealing full damage.***** Rysiel and Teir** make death-saving throws. The Black pudding attacks Bakunawa, but misses. Kaelen darts forward and cuts the ooze in half again (dammit Kaelen!), but deals damage. Round 3 Bakunawa swings at one of the ever-splitting, ever-shrinking oozes. He hits, but it doesn't split in half! Zastu aims her bow at that one and shoots. The ooze dissipates and is gone! She shrinks back into the shadows. Rysiel and Teir** make death-saving throws again, and Rysiel gets a crit-fail. Uh oh. The remaining small Black Pudding attacks Bakunawa again, but misses. Kaelen hits the ooze with a critical strike, but oozes are immune to crits... The ooze doesn't split. Round 4 Bakunawa attacks with his sword. The ooze still doesn't split... Zastu fires her bow, but misses. Rysiel and Teir** make death-saving throws. The Black Pudding attacks Bakunawa and gets a critical hit! Bakunawa falls to the ground, unconscious and covered in acid that eats at his armor. (7 bludgeoning + 34 acid; -2AC from the crit leaves his chainmail with 14AC) Kaelen strikes one final time with his greataxe, sundering the remaining ooze. But people are dying!

DM notes: *I made a couple mistakes: First, Hiral's blessing should have left the character at 1hp, not prevented a death; Second: 5e differs from 3.5e in that death doesn't occur at -10hp, it happens at negative max hp, so -18hp for Teir; **Even though I would forget this almost immediately... ***Technically it was immune to Slashing damage, but I thought it was a bit much for it to split AND not take damage, so I dealt half-damage instead ****Pro-tip: If your enemy can split, they probably have half the HP, so area attacks that hit multiple targets are twice as effective!!! *****Black Pudding aren't immune nor resistant to Piercing

Zastu and guard Kaelen stabilize their dying teammates. Sighing, Zastu robs all of them out of spite, coming away with almost 40 gold. She gives 5 to Kaelen to keep quiet, then they fetch the village guards to help carry them out of the cave. The villagers and everyone set up a temporary camp within the treeline, just barely able to see across the meadow out to the walls of Nightstone. Zastu takes a walk in the forest to clear her head and try to find a way to get a message to her gang. She's looking for bandits who might be camping out, but instead a group of Elf scouts finds her. The elves question her as to why she's in their part of the forest. She explains the situation, and they guide her back to the temporary camp, after extracting a promise from her that there will be no hunting. She takes the opportunity to ask about the cloud giants... They answer that there was one very very large cloud castle that came by three days ago, responsible for dropping the boulders on the village. They point the direction it left in (East-north-east). There was also a second, much smaller cloud tower that was seen recently over the forest--this one had a comical pointy-wizard's hat for a roof/spire. When asked if this was normal, the elves reply that it happens fairly often relative to an elf's lifespan--maybe once a decade, but seeing two within a few days is unusual.

By the time Zastu returns to the camp, Rysiel is awake. The druid uses a spell slot to cast Cure Wounds on Bakunawa, waking him. The paladin then wakes Teir with a use of Lay on Hands. Morak explains further to the elves, who allow them to stay where they are if they wish. The dwarven innkeeper agrees with the party members to keep the villagers outside the village, despite days of capture within the caves. However, he insists on sending a few guards to check out these bandits they mentioned and get more info for himself. Zastu still wants to get a message out to her gang in Waterdeep, and sees an opportunity with the bandits inside the village, so she volunteers to go ahead of the guards.

At the gates to Nightstone, Zastu calls up (alone) to the two lookouts that Xolkin has posted in the towers. The fetch the bandit leader and lower the drawbridge for him. When Xolkin comes out, he has a very civil conversation with Zastu, again extending the invitation for her to join the Zhentarim. He compliments her tenacity and ability to stay alive, and agrees to get her message to Waterdeep (for a hefty 5g) even as she declines (again) to join him. He warns her that he intends to keep the village as a Zhentarim outpost, but the villagers are welcome back into their homes (just not her party members who attacked him). He wants a partnership with them, and since the noble controlling the village is dead... Zastu writes a message in code, and gives it to Xolkin to get to her contact (Gervis) in Waterdeep. In brief, it describes how she was able to swindle this noble and paladin to steal some money, and how great an asset she is to the gang. She also asks if they want her continue to siphon money off, or return to Waterdeep with it now?

Zastu goes to the guards standing back from the village and explains the situation, then the return to the camp. Morak takes in all the info and talks further with the party... Sounds like it's possible to return to the village, so the adventurers ask if Morak can maybe distract the bandits so they can get into the fort to spend the night. Morak agrees.

After packing up the camp, Morak, the adventurers, and the villagers walk down to the lowered drawbridge. Xolkin meets them there, but Kella and some of the other bandits are posts in the towers with their crossbows out. The bandit leader and Morak have a conversation with some brief comments from the adventurers. Xolkin points out how respectful they've been to the dead in the town, and how they haven't stolen anything, and even started carting out the bodies of the goblins and orcs--a battle which they could totally have run from, but didn't. He also points out that the adventurers attacked first during their fight*. But Morak is still skeptical, and as Bakunawa points out, the Zhentarim are well-known for trafficking in slaves and black-market items like poison. (*--technically a lie since one of his people let off a crossbow by accident while Teir set off non-damaging spells) In the end, they agree to take the conversation to the inn, and let the villagers in. Zastu sneaks in with them leading Bobble the horse, while Rysiel Wildshapes into a house cat to come as well. The Rillix the tressym flies along nearby, but Jest the Rooster has gone missing again. Once inside, Rysiel and Zastu go to the broken bridge between village and fort, and lower some ropes to help the others up. They spend the night in the fort. (Long Rest and level 4!)

Spells cast:

Bakunawa:

Paladin abilities: Vow of Enmity (Channel Divinity) Lay on Hands

Slots: 1st 3/3 Regained: 0

Rysiel:

Cantrips: Produce Flame x2,

Spells: Moonbeam (2nd), Flame Blade (2nd), Cure Wounds (1st)

Slots: 1st 3/4 +1 used; 2nd 1/2 +2 used Regained: 2 levels (1 2nd-level slot)

Teir:

Rituals: Alarm

Slots: 2/2 Regained: All slots on Short Rest

Killcount:

...It's hazy, but Baknawa, Zastu, and Kaelen all destroyed part of the Black Pudding

Treasure looted:

3 Shortswords for the village guards

+1 Longsword of ?? (Bakunawa)

Zastu looted 39g 18s from her party members! (Giving 5g to Kalen, and 5g to Xolkin)

Other Important Notes:

Teir's leather armor was destroyed (10ac)

Rysiel's leather armor is half-destroyed (11ac)

Bakunawa's chaimnail is partially destroyed (14ac)

All three have major scarring from acid burns, but Rysiel has noticably less

#5e #A Great Upheaval #A Party Most Queer #D&D #session #Storm King's Thunder

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olehistorian · 7 years

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Almost unrecognisable from her role as the dowdy housekeeper in Downton Abbey, Phyllis Logan is starring in an exotic new medical drama. She talks to Judith Woods about seizing the day and those Downton movie rumours… 'Obviously I never had a career to speak of before Downton Abbey,’ says Phyllis Logan drily, raising an eyebrow for further effect. ‘I sometimes wonder how on earth did I fill my time?’ It’s not true, of course, but we all know what she means: sometimes a jobbing actress is swept away by a juggernaut of a role that takes her a very long way from where she used to be. The Downton effect has had an impact on the career of every member of its award-winning ensemble cast. Lily James has starred in the BBC’s War & Peace and the movie Cinderella, Michelle Dockery landed a role as a criminal in the gritty US show Good Behavior, Joanne Froggatt played a serial killer in the ITV series Dark Angel – and now Phyllis is set to star in a new ITV drama series, The Good Karma Hospital. But it’s her years in service to the Crawley family that have made her a poster girl for ladies of a certain age who refuse to accept that life holds no more adventure. When her doughty but warm-hearted character Mrs Hughes finally found love with the pompous but kindly butler Mr Carson, it struck a blow for midlife love. In those days ‘Mrs’ was an honorific title bestowed on senior female staff, regardless of whether they had ever wed, so Mrs Hughes’s comical angst about whether he would be expecting ‘a full marriage’ struck a chord with any woman over 40 who has ever fretted about going to bed with a new partner. ‘Mrs Hughes was aerated about the sex thing because she probably hadn’t had much experience, but that turned out to be the least of her bloomin’ worries,’ acknowledges Phyllis. ‘God preserve us all from nitpicking middle-aged men who can’t abide change.’ In the phenomenally successful series, which ran for six seasons, Mr Carson (played by Jim Carter) turned out to be irrevocably stuck in his ways – the routines of the big house where he had been serving for many years. Ironically, it was his new wife’s performance in the couple’s kitchen (as opposed to the bedroom) that proved his greatest source of disappointment. Eventually, with affectionate pragmatism, the pair decided he should eat his meals at the Downton kitchen, cooked by Mrs Patmore, as before. ‘It’s a very identifiable scenario,’ says Phyllis, 61. ‘When a more mature couple makes a life together, each brings certain expectations and baggage and of course there’s always need for compromise, which some men in particular find difficult. Phyllis, once best known for playing posh totty Lady Jane Felsham in the 1980s and 90s series Lovejoy, was a late starter herself when it came to settling down. She met her husband, Pirates of the Caribbean actor Kevin McNally, in the 1993 miniseries Love and Reason when she was in her late 30s, but they didn’t get round to tying the knot until she was 55. ‘I had always sworn I would never have an actor in the house because they are so much trouble and so vain, but you can’t legislate for Cupid’s bow,’ she says. When she got together with Kevin, theirs was not a series of careful compromises but a classic coup de foudre. ‘I never thought real love – the sort where your blood tingles and your world explodes with joy – would happen to me at my time of life. I believed I had missed out. But I’m ever so glad it happened.’ A couple of years later, aged 40, she had their son David. He is now 20 and studying music and music production at university in Leeds. Once upon a time, reaching six decades was a milestone to be dreaded rather than celebrated, but, in well-cut jeans and a flattering floaty top, her burnished hair hanging loose, Phyllis provides incontrovertible proof that though life may not begin at 60, it sure as heck continues at a rip-roaring pace – as long as you have the right attitude towards the rollercoaster. ‘We packed David off to university not so long ago and as we drove back to our house in West London we were listening to the Elaine Paige show on Radio 2,’ recalls Phyllis. ‘She played Peggy Lee singing “The Folks Who Live on the Hill” and as soon as I heard the line “and when the kids grow up and leave us” I burst into absolute floods of tears and spent the rest of the journey splashing about in the passenger seat. But since then I’ve thought a lot about empty nest syndrome and how once your chick flies the coop it gives women the freedom to stretch their own wings once more, too.’ And as fate would have it, Phyllis’s new role in The Good Karma Hospital has allowed her to do just that and will doubtless prove a source of inspiration to a great many female viewers in a similar position. Set in India, the series features another estimable actress, Amanda Redman, 59, who plays an eccentric expat running a ramshackle cottage hospital, which is short on resources and long on compassion. ‘It’s a cross between Holby City and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel but with dark secrets, so it should be right up everybody’s street,’ says Phyllis. ‘I play Maggie Smart, who has come to India for her daughter’s wedding and becomes unwell, so ends up in hospital and falls deeply in love. Not with a man – she already has a husband – but rather with the community, the culture and the way of life. She’s a fascinating character who has such humour and joie de vivre and it was great to play a woman finding herself and connecting with a wider spirituality.’ Phyllis spent months filming the six-part series on location in Sri Lanka. She, too, found herself smitten with the place and the people and at one point Kevin flew over from the US where he is in the cast of the US television series Turn: Washington’s Spies and they managed a 12-day break together. ‘We stayed in a hotel on the beach and it was bliss. The majority of the population are Buddhists and seemed so calm, open and thankful for whatever life gave them; I think we could all learn from them.’ All the same, Phyllis isn’t entirely convinced she believes in karma as a concept. ‘It would be nice to think that if you are a decent human being then eventually things will turn out right,’ she says. ‘But fate can intervene and pull the rug out from under you without warning and there might be nothing you can do.’ It is something she and Kevin can speak of from personal experience. Phyllis’s mother died from a dementia-related illness aged 90, but it was the agonisingly slow decline of Kevin’s mother over many years that proved more devastating. ‘Kev’s mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in her early 60s and from then on his father became her carer and it was so hard for him. She reached the point where she didn’t recognise her own son and was agitated and upset because she had no idea where she was or who she was; that was heartbreaking to witness.’ Phyllis is an ambassador for Dementia UK and does what she can to support the charity’s work. ‘It’s such a cruel disease. I am aware there’s a genetic component so I do brain-training on my phone every day. Will that help stave it off? I have no idea; I think of Iris Murdoch – such a clever woman who dealt with words and complex memories all her life, and yet all those things that made her so creative and unique were taken while she was still alive. Ultimately, all you can do is cross your fingers and make the most of every day.’ Phyllis is certainly doing that. Last year was a veritable Air Miles bonanza; as well as her sojourn in Sri Lanka she went to Sydney for a Downton DVD launch, Los Angeles where the ensemble cast of Downton won yet another Screen Actors Guild Award, and then to New York to receive the prestigious Great Scot Award from the US branch of the National Trust for Scotland (previous recipients include comedian Billy Connolly and actor Alan Cumming). She wore a dress bought in John Lewis embellished for the occasion with a tartan sash and matching ribbon. ‘I’m not interested in fashion,’ Phyllis confides. ‘It��s just not on my radar. Whenever I’m doing a contemporary role, the wardrobe mistress will usually say, “Let’s go to Selfridges and get a personal shopper.” Most women would probably love it, but my face falls because I absolutely hate trying on clothes. One of the things I loved about Downton was the fact I had two outfits and maybe a coat if I got to go into the village; the girls in the Crawley family kept having to go for fittings every time there was a big dinner, which would have driven me mad.’ Logan loves… Reading Alan Bennett’s Keeping On Keeping On. I love him; my husband Kev played him in the stage version of The Lady in the Van. Listening to The Today programme on Radio 4 and Classic FM. Watching I do enjoy a good nature documentary. Planet Earth II was spectacularly good. Guilty pleasure A whole bag of Kettle Chips with a crisp glass of Picpoul de Pinet. Beauty product Boots No7 moisturiser; it’s not fancy but it does the job. Desert island luxury A karaoke machine, stage, lights and all the songs from the 70s. I’ll make a row of coconuts for an audience and there’ll be no stopping me. The ongoing international popularity of Downton means Phyllis and various other cast members are still asked to appear at events to meet the fans and launch DVDs. She’s often asked about her wigs and whether she kept one; she had three identical hairpieces all of which she affectionately dubbed Elsie. ‘People ask me if I was tempted to take a wig or that big bunch of keys I carried, but that would be theft, because these things aren’t my property,’ says Phyllis emphatically. ‘Besides, if there’s a Downton movie, which I hope will happen, all the props and costumes will be needed.’ Ah yes, the Downton film; rumours still swirl but so far there’s been no confirmation. According to Phyllis it may yet happen if – and it’s a huge if – the cast members can ever be gathered in one place long enough. ‘It’s like herding cats!’ she laughs. ‘We’re all so busy and in different countries, but it would be such fun to get together again. The camaraderie on set was extraordinary.’ Phyllis was in every episode of the family saga. Her husband even appeared in a handful of episodes as Horace Bryant, the stern father of an army major who fraternised with housemaid Ethel (Amy Nuttall), getting her pregnant before he died in action. Horace persuaded her to hand over his grandchild to him, which was brutal but necessary as she had been sacked from Downton in disgrace and had taken to prostitution in order to survive. ‘I was quite miffed that the producer had offered Kev a job without even consulting me,’ laughs Phyllis. ‘I wouldn’t dream of queering his pitch – although I do think I’d be great as Johnny Depp’s mother in a Pirates of the Caribbean film [in which Kevin plays Joshamee Gibbs]. And every lad needs a cuddle from his mother now, doesn’t he?’ Her eyes glitter with the sort of mischief Mrs Hughes would most certainly not approve of, but now Phyllis has emerged from the shadow of her fictional alter ego, she is keen to push boundaries. Last summer she resolved to challenge herself by taking on a theatre role in a dazzling touring production of Noël Coward’s Present Laughter, alongside Samuel West. ‘The prospect of going back on stage was a bit frightening, but that is exactly why I embraced it,’ she says. ‘I can be a bit of a scaredy-cat so I have to push myself and I was so very glad I did. It took me right back to my early days as an actress: booking my own digs, sitting on the seafront on my day off eating fish and chips. I also got to see fascinating places such as Canterbury, Cambridge and Brighton.’ Seeing the world – be it near or far – is something she gently urges all women to do once the kids have left. ‘Travel does broaden the mind and fill the senses,’ she says. ‘It gives you a new perspective and there are so many beautiful regions in Britain that I can think of no better way to spend time than exploring them because you’re a long time dead – so carpe diem, ladies!’ The Good Karma Hospital will be on ITV next month. Phyllis is an ambassador for Dementia UK and is supporting its campaign timeforacuppa.org Styling: Natalie Read. Hair: Alex Price at Frank Agency. Make-up: Lucy Gibson at Frank Agency using Clinique. Table and vase, both Habitat Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-4128572/Interview-Downton-star-Phyllis-Logan.html#ixzz4WSbvI2CF Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook

#phyllis logan #downton abbey #good karma hospital

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rhnuzlocke · 7 years

Text

Episode 15

Scene 2:

[Finally Ren and her pokemon head up to face Winona. Māia perches on her shoulder as a large open elevator whisks them up to the leader arena. Wally and Kai are sitting together in the small stands with their pokemon, grinning from ear to ear. They give her the thumbs up as she and her team step out of the elevator. Winona stands opposite her on a platform with what are clearly some of her top tier pokemon sitting in the branches behind her. Ren looks over an alteria, honchkrow, braviary, skarmory, pidgeot, pelipper, decidueye, talonflame and three swellows, one of which is a shiny.]

Ren: [muttering to Māia] I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.

Māia: This is perfect!

Winona: Greetings, challenger. You have quite a well-rounded team. Do you think they are ready to earn their sixth badge?

Ren: Yes, but I don’t intend to fight with them today. My taillow has requested to face you and your pokemon without the aid of her teammates.

Winona: [eyes narrowing] You may challenge me as you choose. When your taillow is unable to battle, you may send out your next pokemon or forfeit at your own discretion. I will be limited to four pokemon for this battle.

[Winona whistles and her striped swellow swoops down onto the field. Māia glides down to face her.]

Winona: Aerial ace!

Ren: Air slash!

[Māia slashes her wing, sending a blade of wind at the swellow as she launches into the air. The swellow takes the hit and lands one of her own as she shoots past, bowling Māia over. Māia pops back to her feet as the swellow whirls around.]

Ren: Fly!

[Māia crouches before rocketing upwards just ahead of the swellow's talons. The swellow banks the turn and starts climbing, but Māia is already well above her. She arrows down and strikes the swellow across the back. She wobbles but keeps flying as Māia angles away.]

Winona: You have the weight on her, Slipstream. Bring her down!

Ren: Not for long! Steel wing, Māia!

[Māia's wings gleam silver as she banks to face her oncoming opponent. They meet each other in the air and it is the swellow who is knocked aside and goes tumbling.]

Ren: Got her! Great job, Māia!

[Winona withdraws her swellow and her pelipper swoops into the ring. Meanwhile, the rest of Ren’s team watches from the sidelines.]

Naihi: Though it is happening right in front of me, I still find it difficult to comprehend that she would face the gym leader with nothing but a taillow. And after what she said to Tāraki… [She trails off, shaking her head.] I guess I still have much to learn about our trainer.

Kata: She's one hell of a strong human. You all didn't see her after Wheta died. She's come so far.

Ao: She battles for us as much as she does for herself, maybe more so. In this instance, she let Māia's wishes take precedence.

[Māia nails the pelipper with an air slash, but it is larger and more resilient than the swellow and counters with brine.]

Kata: So, my good Lady Disaster, may I ask why you want to be in a gym battle so badly? [She shoots a cautious glance at Akahata who just rolls her eyes.] I mean, you're a wild right? What do you care about gyms and badges?

Naihi: My mentor told me of them.

Kata: You mean your gallade sensei who lived on a mountaintop, right?

Naihi: Yes.

Kata: [trying not to laugh] Just checking. Continue.

Naihi: He told me about the badges he and his trainer won and what they signify. Gyms are a proving ground for pokemon and their trainers. A true way to test their strength and compatibility. I want our trainer to know that she can rely on me. See how strong I am in a real battle. Not just practice.

Ao: You don't have to worry. Ren knows that.

Pohaku: Yeah, I'm the only one you lose to when we spar and that's cuz of my armor and stuff. Everyone has one type they can't beat.

Naihi: You all have been with her much longer than I. And anyway, isn't that why our teammate is up there now? To prove her strength?

Ao: I suppose that's true.

Naihi: You all have earned you place on this team, but I've yet to earn mine.

[They are all quiet for a moment as they watch Māia narrowly avoids another brine attack with a barrel roll.]

Naihi: Akahata, you have been with Ren the longest. You must have taken part in many gym battles.

Akahata: Only one. It was against Flannery, a fire-type trainer.

Naihi: Oh, that surprises me. Still, it must have been some battle. Would you mind telling me what it was like?

Akahata: I went up against a torkoal. The gym is famous for them. They all possess a very powerful fire move that few can withstand. Our strategy was for me to use dig to avoid this attack and the type advantage to take it down. But their shells are thick and their defense is high. I got in two attacks but couldn't take it down before it was able to use overheat on me. I was overwhelmed by the attack and Ao had to take my place. She was fast enough to avoid it and her special attacks were more effective against it's defenses. She won us the battle.

Naihi: Well, what's important is that you played your part in the team and weakened it. Congratulations on your victory, Ao. Was that your first gym battle?

Ao: First and last so far. I was pretty new to the team at the time.

Naihi: My then, I must admit to being even more impressed.

Ao: Thank you.

Kata: WHOO! Nice one Māia!

Pohaku: Yeah! Knock ‘em dead!

Ao: You've got her on the ropes now!

[The others don't seem to notice Akahata looking down, face tight and shoulders slumped, but Naihi shoots her a glance and smiles to herself. Meanwhile Māia lands the finishing blow on the pelipper and it falls. Winona withdraws it and nods to her skarmory. He takes to the air after Māia in a metallic flutter of wings. The two combatants circle clockwise around the ring.]

Winona: Steel wing, Halberd!

Ren: Parry with steel wing!

[The two birds charge each other, wings gleaming. Māia hits him near the shoulder and is knocked aside by his superior size and weight. She tumbles through the air but rights herself before he can bank the turn. However he now has the momentum while she is fluttering. He goes straight for her, a predatory glint in his eyes.]

Ren: Boomburst!

[Māia fires off a boomburst right at the skarmory's head. He makes no attempt to evade and the sound wave hits him dead on. He powers through the blow with smug confidence and keeps coming. Māia has never seen her move do so little damage before and only just manages to dive beneath him as he aims a steel wing at her. Māia glances nervously at Ren as both birds sweep around the turn.]

Ren: Just keep hammering him, Māia! You've got more boombursts in you than he can take!

[He banks into the next turn and she climbs, trying to gain some altitude.]

Winona: Metal claw!

[He comes at her, claws raised and glowing and she swoops forward to meet him in response.]

Ren: Roll!

[Just as they are about to meet in the air, Māia rolls to the side and let's out a boomburst. She hits him in the wing and he rolls in the air as the wing is flung over his back by the impact.]

Winona: Pin her down! Aerial ace!

[The skarmory rights himself and pumps his wings, climbing rapidly. Māia climbs too but he is quickly gaining on her.]

Ren: Drop turn!

Winona: Got her!

[Māia swoops sharply upward, folds her wings and plummets straight at the waiting skarmory. He is about to nail her with his glowing beak.]

Ren: Now!

[Māia lets out another boomburst at point blank range. The skarmory is knocked aside, but she cannot evade his wing and takes a glancing blow as they pass. She recovers quickly. But the skarmory remains disoriented, flight erratic for several seconds.]

Ren: Great job, Māia! Get some distance!

Winona: We've got the remedy for that! Air cutter!

[The skarmory launches blades of air at Māia who dodges by swooping and dipping and changing directions on a dime. Eventually the skarmory must recharge and he returns to gliding clockwise around the edge of the arena. Māia stays opposite him, waiting for the final confrontation. They are both drained and the next hit is likely to be the last. The skarmory caws out a challenge and angles for the center of the arena towards Māia. Māia flies to meet him.]

Winona: Air cutter!

[The skarmory waits until they are fairly close to unleash his attack, but Māia still dodges, tilting her wings between the strikes as she rolls.]

Ren: Now!

[Māia let's out a boomburst just as she passes him. The force pushes them apart and while she sweeps cleanly away, he rolls, crumples, and plummets towards the ground. Winona withdraws him just before he hits. Māia alights on the ground in front of her trainer.]

Winona: Impressive. Your taillow is looking drained. Will you withdraw her?

[Māia is panting, but she looks back at Ren half pleading, half daring. Ren wavers for a second, then nods to her pokemon.]

Ren: No.

Winona: Very well.

[She nods to her altaria and it glides to the ground in front of her. The giant bird beats its dragon-like wings, clouds shifting to cover them. Māia half furls her wings, wrists pointed forward like arrows, ready for any command. Ren can see her heaving, controlling the trembling in her tired muscles while the fresh altaria looks a little bored if anything. The only way to end this is quickly.]

Winona: Dragon breath!

[Māia looks back at her trainer and their eyes lock once more.]

Ren: Brave bird!

[The altaria flaps it's wings to take off while Māia glows brightly, bracing herself. The altaria swoops across the ring towards her and Māia goes off like a shot to meet her, a shining streak in the air. The altaria pulls her neck back in preparation and opens her beak. Blue flames shoot out at Māia, but the taillow plows through them and right into the altaria's gut. The altaria crumples comically around the tiny missile, flames guttering out with a wheeze as it is fired back across the ring at its trainer. The two birds crash to the ground and skid to a stop in front of Winona. The altaria lands on it's back with Māia sprawled on it's chest. The altaria's wing twitches, but it makes no attempt to rise. Māia opens her eyes and picks herself up. She wobbles for a moment before taking a deep breath and standing tall and proud on her fallen foe. She spreads her wings and calls out a challenge. The branches around the arena erupt with sound as all of the flying-types call out in answer. Winona looks around in wonder. Māia cries once more and the chorus answers, quickly building to a crescendo before tapering off slowly. Māia folds her wings and looks up at Winona. Winona bows her head. Māia nods and takes off, flying back to Ren's waiting arm.]

Ren: You did it, Māia! You really are the strongest bird in Hoenn!

Māia: I don't know about that. Maybe it's time I admitted I'm not. Those weren't her strongest after all. That was a sixth badge team.

Ren: Yeah, that you beat all by yourself!

Māia: I'm not saying I'm not awesome, just that I'm not the best yet. But now I know I can be.

Ren: [smiling] Alright.

[Winona makes her way over to them, her shiny swellow on her shoulder.]

Winona: That was an incredible battle. I've never had another quite like it. I'm sorry that I doubted your intentions. She's a remarkable battler and you are a wonderful trainer. Please, Māia the taillow, accept my humblest apologies.

[She and her swellow bow their heads. Māia dips hers back.]

Māia: Thank you for letting me battle anyway. I learned a lot.

[Ren conveys this message to Winona.]

Winona: A decision that benefited me more than her, I think. I profess to believe in the potential of all bird pokemon, and yet I doubted her. I am grateful to be so humbled. It's been an honor.

[She hands over the Feather Badge with a wistful smile and turns away. Ren looks down at her badge, then clenches her fist around it.]

Ren: Hey Māia, would you like to stay here and train with Winona?

[Māia looks up at her in confusion.]

Ren: Well, you're right. You can get stronger. You can be the best there is. And Winona is a flying-type specialist, the best in the region, maybe even the world. Maybe staying here is the best way to reach your goal. With me there are going to be a lot of detours and down time. You won't even have a flying-type training partner after Panahi leaves. Here you could train with other flying-types all the time.

Māia: But I owe you so much. You could be facing Magma again any day now. I don’t want to leave you. It wouldn’t be right after all you’ve done for me.

Ren: Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how many times you’ve saved my ass? Saved all of our asses? You don’t owe me a thing, Māia. And that can’t be the reason you make this decision. We should all be working towards our own goals, whether that's together or apart. I’ll miss you too, but I’ll still have everyone else. I’ll be okay. And besides, it wouldn't be goodbye forever. I could call you on the nav. I'll come and visit you just like the others. And if you decided that you wanted to challenge the Elite Four with me, I'd come and get you. You'll always be my pokemon no matter what you choose.

[They look into each other's eyes for a few moments. Māia takes a deep breath and puffs out her chest.]

Māia: Okay. I'll do it.

[Ren raises her arm and Māia nuzzles Ren's nose with her beak and hugs Ren's cheeks with her wings. They break apart and Ren takes a deep breath.]

Ren: Winona. [She turns.] Māia would like to train with you.

#pokemon #nuzlocke #oras #running hot nuzlocke #story #episode 15 #Ren #Maia #Akahata #Naihi #Ao #Kata #Pohaku #Winona #gym battle #in the playthrough I was overleveled and legit defeated every pokemon in that gym with my taillow #it was bananas #Maia is the best #she is my only pokemon with a completely undefeated record

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smurfnawesome · 5 years

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Mausoleum

Ok, here goes nothing. This is the first chapter of a story I have started. If it goes well, I will post the next chapter and so on. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Living in a small town could get dull quicker than a tornado through a trailer park. That is until you discover little secrets that were buried and should have stayed buried. My life was normal, or as normal as one's life could be. That was until my friends and I discovered things that we shouldn't have. Growing up in a small town you learn to find ways to entertain yourself.

My friends and I started sneaking out at night now that we were all freshmen. Tonight was no different. My parents were in bed, I had waited an hour before moving around and getting ready to sneak out like every night before. It was exciting, daring, a real adrenaline rush. Now that we were in October, I had to put more thought into what I wore when I snuck out. I couldn't just put on the same shorts and t-shirt I wore to bed.

Using my phone as a flashlight, I hunted the floor for my favorite pair of blue jeans, sliding them on up over my sleep shorts. Creeping over to my walk-in closet I was thankful it didn't have a door to make sound. Pulling out an oversized grey hoodie with my impending graduation date stamped on the back, I tossed it on over my t-shirt. Making my way out of the closet and putting the hood down, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from R.J., confirming that everyone was at our meeting spot and waiting on me, as usual. I smiled and typed back that I was on my way.

After quietly opening my window and letting the crisp fall air rush in, I ducked out it. Thank god my parents preferred a one story house. Down the block, I could make out four shapes, my friends, waiting under the one street lamp on our road. As I moved closer I could see R.J. waving me over. The twins, Bash and Kash leaning against the lamp pole, their flame red hair molded into a mohawk. Bash's mohawk was shorter than Kash's, Kash could no longer fit his hair under his class hoodie, Bash kept his short but enough to stand it up. Fynne, his emerald eyes shone in the night now that he got contacts and could ditch the glasses, with a backpack on one shoulder standing awkwardly between the twins and R.J. I jogged the rest of the way and high fived R.J. when I got to them. R.J.'s face was hidden beneath the hood of the class hoodie we all had.

"What took you so damn long D?" R.J. questioned, high fiving me back.

"Sorry, parents took too long going to bed. Fynne you got the snacks?" A small nod from him and we headed down the road. Fynne didn't talk much, but he had the best snacks. I was in the middle, I always was. Being the leader of this rambunctious group was tiresome but worth it. The twins were always a handful, they liked getting into trouble anywhere they could find it. We all had been best friends since we could remember. R.J. lived in the house across the street from me, the twins in the house next to mine, and Fynne next to R.J.

We made our way to the only cemetery in town. It was on some back road with no houses. The back fence was rotting away and no one bothered to fix it, that was how we always managed to get in. It was quiet, a little creepy at times but we enjoyed it. We could yell and run and no one would bat an eye. At the far corner is this giant mausoleum that we hang out around. It's the oldest structure still standing in town, built when the town was founded in 1684. Next to it stands a giant oak tree that's been there just as long. Its branches are perfectly spaced to be able to climb it and sit on the flat roof of the mausoleum.

"Hey D, Bash bets you fifteen bucks you won't sit on top of the mausoleum."

"Kash I did not! You were the one that said D wouldn't do it!"

"Guys, what the hell? We sit on the top of this old thing all the damn time."

"Yeah, but I bet you won't sit on it alone." Kash said with a smirk, crossing his arms as Bash did the same. I looked over at R.J. who just shrugged and grinned. Fynne wasn't any help and was just getting the snacks out.

"How long?" I taunted, "I'm not afraid of this damn thing."

"Hmmm, what do you think Bash?" Kash asked turning to his twin and comically tapping his pointer finger on his chin.

"Three dollars a minute? Total of five minutes for fifteen." Bash coolly let out, as if they had already planned to try and get my goat tonight. Their smug smirk was more than enough motivation. I was ready to wipe the stupid look off their faces.

"Fine, but R.J. I want you to time it. The twins can be pretty cheap." I grumbled making my way over to climb the tree. Once I got to the top and shifted my way to the middle I dangled my feet off the edge. I noticed a huge crack behind me. Going from the back of the mausoleum to almost where I was sitting. But it had been there for years so I wasn't worried. Looking down on them I crossed my arms.

"Alright R.J., start the timer!"

"Wait," everyone looked at Fynne as he handed R.J. fifteen bucks, "I want in my bets on D." R.J. nodded, the twins chuckled and I smiled, at least someone had my back. R.J. started the timer and we waited.

I set my palms on the ledge and felt warmth all throughout my body. It felt weird, almost like a flame beneath me. I retracted my hands and set them in my lap, looking out over the landscape and taking a deep breath. The wind started to pick up, the air chilly, the leaves rustling unnerved me a little but I stayed strong. It was only five minutes after all. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, R.J.'s phone went off.

"Alright boys, I did it pay-" the mausoleum shook and I grabbed at the roof feeling the warmth return even greater, like an energy eruption from my hands. My heart began to race and I looked at R.J. for confirmation that that had just happened. Everyone's eyes were wide, confirming that I wasn't the only one who felt the tremble in the earth.

"G-guys…?" I stammered lifting my hands from the stone. Suddenly the whole roof caved beneath me. I figured I'd hit the casket or the floor in the mausoleum, they all had them right? No, I fell far and hard. I heard the dark stained glass door shatter on my way down, and shouting from my friends.

Opening my eyes it was dark, darker than anything I had ever seen before. I scrambled to fish my phone out of my hoodie pocket. As I grabbed it, i felt the spider web effect on my phone's screen.

"Shit...no, no no no!" Pulling it out my worst fears were confirmed, my phone had busted and I couldn't access the screen to find my flashlight. My stomach churned, not sure if it was from the fall or something else. I shouted up to my friends. "Guys, the fall broke my phone and its fucking dark!"

"D, hang on, there's stairs down to you, we're coming!" R.J. shouted from the top. I heard the broken glass shifting and then heavy footsteps getting louder. Finally, I saw the beam of a flashlight as they drew closer.

"D, you alright?"

"D, dude, I am so sorry…"

"Yeah D, so sorry…"

"....guys…"

Everyone whipped their heads to look at Fynne. His flashlight was shining on the wall, names were engraved haphazardly into the stone. But they weren't just names, they were names, birthdates, and death dates. R.J. helped me up and we got a closer look at the wall. Our parent's names and birthdates were scratched into the surface, but Fynne was looking at the names next to them. There, scratched in like nails on a chalkboard was all of our names.

"No, this doesn't make sense, this place has been locked up and abandoned for generations, mom and Kevin said so…" R.J. let out with a shaky breath.

"Apparently someone has been in here…" I swallowed running my hand over my own name and birthdate. I looked over at the twins who were huddled together behind me, then over at Fynne who kept staring at the names.

"Guys, I think we should check out what else is in here...before we leave and someone notices and shuts this place up." Fynne said turning his phone up so we could see everyone's face.

"Dude are you fucking nuts?!"

"Y-yeah...for once, we agree with R.J."

"Fynne, you're not making any sense dude, listen to Bash…"

I bit my lip, taking in everything that had just happened, the uneasy feeling I had before subsiding, with a pulling sensation growing. Pulling me, an urge to go deeper, to look at what was beyond the darkness. Looking back and forth between the exit and deeper into the lion's den, I felt reassured in my choice, my hands still burned a little as I stuffed them into my hoodie.

"N-no, Fynne's right, we may never get this chance again. Don't you guys wanna know why our names are carved into this wall?" Fynne smiled, R.J., Bash, and Kash gave each other bewildered looks and looked back at me.

"Let's go," I said turning my back on them to head deeper. "...on second thought, Fynne you go first, I don't have a flashlight." Giving a reluctant sigh, Fynne pushed past me as we started down the hallway, staying close to the wall and noticing the names scratched in from every generation. It was just our lineage, our ancestors. It creeped me out but I wasn't going to let the guys know.

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