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insomniacowl · 3 years

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Neon Genesis Evangelion analysis chapter 21: Kaji Ryoji Lies and Silence

Hi, it's been a while. I'm sorry I disappeared for 5 months while working on the graduate thesis. From now on I will try to upload once every two weeks at 7pm on Saturday.

From here on out, the analysis will focus on the important characters of Evangelion with 15 chapters left to go. Thank you for your patience so far and I hope you all stick with me for the remainder of the ride.

Also, I realized that Tumblr now allows maximum of 10 photos a post, so I am thinking of moving or co-posting on a different site. I'll update all of you when that happens

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Sakiel: The third angel, the first real opponent of Nerv. A portion of voice recordings of the battle attained

Shamel: The fourth angel, visual data gathered and backed up. Will send recordings of Unit – 01's battle against it.

Ramiel: The fifth angel, portion of remains attained and analyzed. Will send information about AT field.

Gagiel: The sixth angel, visual confirmation. Information attained from the UN. Will send information along with Unit – 02's battle data.

Israphel: The seventh angel, visual confirmation, will send data through channel 11-B. Attained sample of material composition

Sandalphon: The eight angels, confirmation through a still image. No further information

Matarael: The ninth angel, visual confirmation. Used the blackout to obtain a sample.

Sahaquel: The tenth angel, photographed attained. Will enter into the database through channel 57-F

Ireul: The eleventh angel, visual confirmation, data erased by Nerv. Will retrieve physically and send them over.

Reriel: The twelfth angel. Unit – 01 went berserk again

Bardiel: The thirteenth angel. Data attained from Mitsushiro facility

Zeruel: The fourteenth angel, visual confirmation. Unit – 01 went berserk. Will send video data.

---Excerpt from "The memos of Kaji Ryoji."

"2015: the Last Year of Ryoji Kaji" was written by the head scriptwriter Yamaguchi Hiroshi and was published in 1997. It contains Kaji's observations of various Incidents and set pieces in the series. It is not anything too particular; however, the fresh perspective Kaji's writings provide makes this an essential material in our understanding of the world of Evangelion. The excerpts mentioned above are essential proof of Kaji's identity as a spy and prove that the blackout during Matarael's attack was deliberately caused by Kaji and Seele.

Furthermore, it explains how Seele had attained information regarding Iruel's existence and its attack on the Nerv facility, even when Nerv/Gendou tried to hide this fact.

The memo above seems to be the observation of Nerv and the angels made by Kaji. While Kaji officially belongs under the Japanese government's command, as we have covered in Chapter 17, the Japanese government is unaware of Lilith's existence. It, therefore, has a different numbering system from Nerv and Seele.

Adding on to this point, the public in the world of Evangelion is unaware of the existence of Lilith. High-ranking Nerv officials such as Misato are aware of Lilith only as of the cause of the First impact and no more. Thus we can deduce that Kaji made the memo while he was on Seele's side, considering that he knew about Lilith in detail. But Kaji never once wholly and permanently sided with any organization. Like how his main character trait is a "flirt," he is never loyal to any organization, just like how he is perceived to be with women; two, perhaps three-timing.

Kaji: You've lost weight

Ritsuko: Are you flirting with me? Stop. A scary-looking friend is watching.

However, it is wrong to say that Kaji was a cheater by any means. His heart belonged only to Misato, and she was the one he trusted the most. His flirting with Ritsuko and Maya made others view him as a superficial person and did not take him too seriously. This got some eyes off his back. This would have given him more freedom to act in achieving his goals (but also, it might have been fun to get Misato jealous in a playful way).

Kaji: Not like you are going to repay that. I added some dummy information in case.

Now, let's take a closer look at Kaji's actions throughout the series. He makes his first appearance in episode 7, having a phone call with Gendou discussing the Jet Alone (JA) program. Because JA was developed as a competition to the Evangelion projects, its implementation would have caused Nerv's authority to weaken and jeopardize the HIP. Making it a top priority to prevent its further development. Minus the actions taken by Misato, the proceedings of JA going berserk and being miraculously fixed were likely a scenario manufactured by Gendou.

Kaji: it has been restored up to this point. It is frozen in a thick layer of bayclade, but it is alive.

The key to the HIP

We first see his face in episode 8 on a new mission: Transporting Adam and Unit – 02 to Nerv headquarters. He likely attained Adam's body in Germany, stealing it under the nose of our dear old friend Keel. The question is, how did he do it? We will never know the details, but we know that Seele's projects that required Adam were complete at this point (Creation of Evas and Tabris). They may not have had much use or concern for the leftovers. Since Adam's fetal form is small, it would have been easy to swap the original for a copy before he left. Of course, this would not have gone unnoticed for long, and it did not.

In episode 10, we see Kaji talking to an unknown woman about the initiation of protocol A-17. It appears to be a measure that limits and shrinks Nerv's authority and freeze their funds. Just like the JA plan, it shows the hostility of the Japanese government towards Nerv. Because Nerv and Seele are still on agreeable terms, Kaji is seen as a double spy between Nerv and the Japanese government. But in episode 11, the Nerv blackout happens. With clues spread over the episode pointing to Kaji as the culprit with Seele's support, we begin to see him in action as a triple spy.

The reason why Kaji undertook such a dangerous role is to get closer to the "Truth." Upon realizing the Japanese government's imbecility, he begins to walk the rope between Nerv and Seele to seek the truth.

Kaji: Is that an angel? This is not the time to be doing my job

We first see him in action in episode 13 while the HQ was distracted defending against Ireul. Here we see him collecting information around the central dogma. While doing so, Kaji notices the angel while passing through the passage in level 28 and hears the announcement that the "Sigma unit (the Eva simulation chamber) will be shut off in 60 seconds. Bearing in mind that Magi is located in level 40 and that a lower number refers to a deeper level, we can see that Kaji has already infiltrated deep into the complex. As central dogma and Lilith were information that Nerv and Seele wanted to keep secret, this infiltration was likely Kaji's initiative. With the same logic, we can also say that the information he gathered regarding the Marduk institution in episode 15 was his individual action as well.

Later in the episode, he is found by Misato as he was trying to infiltrate the central dogma. But Kaji does not seem surprised by this fact and opens the door without hesitation. What they see on the other side was the white giant Lilith. However, we hear Kaji refer to it as Adam. Why? There are two possible explanations for this. First is that Kaji knew that it was Lilith but deliberately lied to Misato.

This explanation is weak at best. It contradicts the characterization of Misato being the only woman Kaji trusts. Further, it contradicts the portrayal of their relationship in the following episodes. It is also difficult to explain why Kaji would distinguish between Adam and Lilith in his explanation to Misato.

The other possible explanation is that Kaji believed this to be Adam, and I am personally more convinced of this explanation. As we have seen in an earlier episode, Kaji passed on the Adam sample to Gendou. Both were fully aware of what he has gotten into his hands (puns perhaps intended). Then why did Kaji believe that it was Adam in central dogma? He likely at this moment believed that the white giant was the manifestation of the Adam sample that he stole. Although it looked different, Kaji, who saw Sandalphon transforming at an unbelievable speed, would have drawn parallels.

Kaji's misunderstanding is also supported by the secretiveness of the existence of Lilith. The information being top-secret accessible only to the Gendou and Seele. Even when Gendou referred to Adam as "The first man," it could be him trying to misdirect Kaji on the identity of the white giants. Although the reason for this secretiveness is not apparent, we know that Seele was ashamed of their status as the descendent of Lilith, this being the reason for conducting the ritual of atonement.

The HIP Seele type is, in essence, based on the feeling of perceived inferiority against the Adam-based angels. Thus it can explain away why Seele would want to keep the project a secret from the public. Even without such reasons, Lilith's identity as a being in the same caliber of existence as Adam might have created a need to keep her locked away and kept secret. This to minimize unnecessary friction and interference in their plans by other organizations.

To add on, let's touch on the strange phrase written on the container of Adam's sample that Kaji brought over. "Who is you? He is living. Why?". There are no explanations given regarding this phrase. It is likely written by one of the researchers in the german facility that was studying this sample. Being the only remaining Adam sample that seemed alive with the absence of a soul, it would have been baffling to look at it.

This lie about the identity of Adam and Lilith is a recurring motif. In the earlier chapters discussing the angels' identity, I have mentioned that due to the enemies being the "Angels," Evangelion fundamentally rejects the narrative of Good triumphing over Evil. During one of the sequences in the opening song, there is a frame reading "ADAM," and it is unique as it is the only one that is black words with a white background. This likely foreshadows the fact that information regarding Adam that we receive is different, thus, at some level, inaccurate or lies.

Either way, the truth of the White giant's identity is revealed near the end of the series. The audiences are made aware of it through the exposition of Tabris. For Miasto, she receives this truth from Kaji along with all the information and data he collected by himself. Through this 'Truth,' we can infer what Kaji wanted to protect and what his 'will' was. This 'will' to live is passed on from Kaji to Misato, from Misato to Shinji, and influences his decision during the end of Evangelion.

Kaji: Shinji, the only thing that I can do right now is to water these plants. And as much, there are things that only you are capable of accomplishing right now. No one is going to force you to do anything. Think for yourself. Decide for yourself. Determined what it is that you need to do right now.

So that you will not end up in regrets.

The alliance between Gendou and Seele began to show signs of schisms in episode 19 after Unit – 01 consumed Zeruel's S2 engine and became a being as though god. This was more in line with the plan of Gendou, who sought for the creation of a new god, the material conditions misaligning from Seele's plans of atoning for the sin of Lilith. Kaji was very much likely to have been aware of all this. When the schisms showed, Kaji had to choose the side he had to stand with. He seemed to have concluded that Nerv is closer to the truth that he wanted. Therefore he ended up helping Gendou achieve his version of the HIP.

I say this as Kaji played a crucial role in convincing Shinji to return and pilot Unit – 01 during the battle against Zeruel. Afterward, Kaji released Fuyutsuki, who was kidnapped by Seele, and began his pro-Nerv strategies. This leads up to his assassination by Seele's orders. To borrow Seele's words, "The bell around Gendou's neck lost its will to ring."

Fuyutsuki: Is that you Kaji?

Kaji: It's been a while.

Fuyutsuki: You will lose your life if you do this.

Kaji: I am just heading towards the truth that I believe in.

Let me talk a little more about his death. In episode 21 of the renewal version, an additional line was spoken: "They found out that I handed over Adam's sample to Gendou." This draws a line connecting the importance of Adam's Sample in Kaji's death and its role in the HIP.

Regarding the Assassin identity, due to the scene of Misato's grief being placed right after Kaji's death in "Death and Rebirth," some believed that it was Misato killed Kaji. One of the rare things that Anno came forward and cleared up was that Kaji's assassin was an unnamed individual that we do not see ever on screen. An additional argument made by those suspecting Misato as the culprit claims the evidence of interlaying of Misato's apartment door label right after the gunshot. This was later removed in the renewal version.

Kaji: No one can understand another person to a full extend. They can't even understand themselves.

But that is why people try their best to understand the other.

And that is what makes life such a fun experience.

Many of what Kaji says touches on the critical messages of Evangelion. It is also why I am starting off this section, the analysis of characters with Kaji; understanding Kaji is integral to understanding the series as a whole. He loved Misato but could not tell her his true feelings during the happiness of reunion after eight years. This was likely the greatest form of love that he could have given her, knowing that he is close to his death. The reason for Kaji's obsession with the truth and the sufferings he experienced in the past is fleshed out in detail in the comics version. He was orphaned as a consequence of the Second impact. After a failed attempt at stealing food from the military base, all of his friends were killed, leaving him alive and questioning the reason for their suffering and death. Kaji sought to avenge his friends by understanding why the Second impact happened.

But even without going into the details, we can try and understand the pain and suffering he went through as the generation living after the Second impact. Yet, his general attitude towards life and his ability to call living to be fun is his unique charm. He even managed to have a smile on his face while looking at the face of his death. His smile was not a forced fake that he made to mask his fear of death; he has probably smiled from the bottom of his heart.

Yo. You're late

Because he would have already reached the truth that he worked so part to attain.

TBC Chapter 22: Katsuragi Misato Part 1 With a cross in hand

#Neon genesis evangelion #Evangelion #Eva #End of Evangelion #Nge #Nagisa Kaworu #Lilith #Sci-fi #Ikari Shinji #Soryu Asuka Langley #Asuka #Ayanami Rei #rei #Anno Hideaki #Katsuragi Misato #Kaji Ryoji #Anime #Analysis #Review

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justiceraffles · 3 years

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"Hey, what if MK was a horribly written telenovela with a poorly conceived mystery storyline that's tied together in the most precarious of ways with nonsensical plotpoints and was also endgame Hakukai" So here's the start to my Hakukai longfic! I have a lot of things to say about this story so I'll just ramble about it at length beneath the cut if anyone's interested in my nonsense notes. Otherwise,

Read Here

I've been working on this thing on and off for a year and a half now, it lives rent free in my head every day and has been editted, restructured, and rewritten a lot. I've been very apprehensive about sharing it. ...To be honest, I still am! It's a chaotic story where I just allowed myself to write the most self-indulgent thing I could muster. This entire plot is an amalmagation of random things and ideas I like. It feels like a niche concept that is very messy and ???¿¿¿¿??? why did I make this

But, I guess that also makes it a very "me" story, so having fun with it and writing something that just brought me joy is what matters most, ultimately.

(aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

I'm very thankful to everyone who has read the outline and concept for it or just listened to me ramble about the incoherent plot and characters or cheering me on when I've been kinda anxious about it— it's thanks to that support despite this being such a specific and ¿¿¿ idea that I've found the courage to actually share it. I'm very grateful and I hope you guys can enjoy something in it o)-(

So, about the fic,

It's a story about Hakuba! I think we are all well aware that jokes about his long absences and infrequent appearances are very commonplace (where in the world is hakuba saguru??? TT) and it unfortunately leads to him being forgotten and overlooked often. The initial concept that inspired this fic was "Hey, what if Hakuba stopped showing up for real?" and explore the implications this would have on the MK storyline (and Kaito, by extension). I wanted to make a plot where he was allowed to be the protagonist of his own story, highlight his worth as a detective, his role in the main narrative, and the depth of his relationship with Kaito. It's a Hakuba Saguru Appreciation fic, first and foremost!

So, the romance itself is very slow burn. There is a lot of plot, because I have a lot of fun with ridiculous, contrived stories haha. It takes a while for the story to be fully set up, and Kaito doesn't make a proper, official appearance until the end of Chapter 2.

Chapter 1 is rather lengthy and sets the context and plot from Hakuba's POV, Chapter 2 focuses on establishing where his relationship with Kaito (as well as Aoko and Akako) stands at the moment, and Chapter 3 onward starts seeing the first proper developments in the relationship.

It's a bit rocky at first and they have a lot of ups and downs but I promise they work it out (I promise!!! I swear!!!) I tried my best to maintain a balance between the fluffy and angsty moments, but I have to admit it's quite dramatic at parts lol I enjoy stupid, trashy drama a lot sometimes— this is the reason I'm calling it a bad telenovela.

Despite the fact that this is very plotty, their feelings for each other are the guiding force behind the storyline, and their relationship does take center stage later on. The romance is in no way secondary, it just takes a long while to fully develop. They most definitely get a happy ending, but you can expect this to be 95% pining.

The story starts out some years after the current events in the MK manga. Pandora hasn't been found yet, and KID is still active. On the other hand, the DC canon is used very loosely; the conflict has long since been resolved. The BO was taken down years before the start of this story.

The two plots aren't too deeply intertwined here, they just intercept at parts. References to DC events appear here and there and some elements and character interactions overlap, but they tend to be minor for the most part. This is primarily a MK story and I wasn't too worried about completely integrating both plotlines (or staying 100% accurate to the DC plot, for that matter).

Of course, because this is MK-centric, Aoko and Akako are involved with the overarching story and have major roles to play.

In terms of DC characters, Masumi, Shiho, Heiji and Shinichi play semi-prominent roles in the story. I've tagged Masumi from the getgo because she appears in the first chapter, but I'll add the others when I get to the little arcs they show up in. Save for some specific contributions they have, they aren't too deeply involved with the overall plot progression, but the interactions Hakuba has with them are important for his character development and his better understanding of his relationship with Kaito. Basically each of these characters gets some sort of little story arc in which they interact with/help Hakuba in some way. I arbitrarily chose who I wanted him to interact with, lol.

Speaking of arbitrary decisions— Miss Masumi!!!! She's the first character that shows up in this and interacts with Hakuba. I understand this is probably a strange choice. Because I really wanted to flesh out Hakuba's detective methods and life in London a little more, I decided to use the very what if headcanon of Hakuba's maternal family and the Sera family being acquainted with each other. Like I said before, I didn't really want to connect DC and MK plots thoroughly, so the Akai family plotline isn't at all relevant here beyond a couple of passing mentions. I was mostly interested in Hakuba having an MI6 connection without the need of using another OC and I just wanted to imagine what a hypothetical dynamic between him and Masumi would be like.

And then, OCs. There's a couple of OCs with pretty major roles here as well. Really major— probably in equal measure to Aoko and Akako. I apologise in advance! I really needed them to properly build the detective/mystery aspect of the plot, and the more I wrote, the more they became involved with the story and relationship progression TT I really enjoyed writing them a lot, and I'm satisfied with how they turned out here. I understand OCs with prominent roles aren't everyone's cup of tea, though. Even though I enjoyed writing them, I'm a little self-conscious about how relevant they ended up being when they were originally just going to be there as a plot device to kickstart things ;;; Hopefully someone can find enjoyment in them nonetheless. They are most heavily involved with the story after the midpoint, but they appear all throughout.

I'm really nervous about the choices to have Masumi and major OCs in this story...I understand it is likely these things will make this story a little too niche. But!!!!!!!!! Again!!!!!!!!!!!!! Having fun with it is what matters most Raffles!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get that through your thick skull!!!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, please expect the most convoluted explanation to Pandora. There is a lot of made up lore I had a blast writing but it's all probably needlessly complicated.

In summary, it's a detective story starring Hakuba that somehow ended up reading like a dramatic post-breakup/getting back together soap opera.

A significant portion of this has been prewritten, so my (ideal) plan is to have weekly or biweekly updates (but hmmmm let's see how long that lasts until I decide to scrap and rewrite everything out of embarrassment— this is very likely, I second-guess myself a lot)

I keep dragging it through the mud, but I've actually had a blast writing it, even though there's A Lot going on and I'm not very confident in it being decent enough to share.

With all that, I hope someone else can maybe find some enjoyment reading it.

#Refutation of time #my writing #DCMK #magic kaito #hakuba saguru #hakukai #sagukai #dcmk fanfic #this is the most rafflescore way to take over the MK plot #says my beta #ohdearohboyohgod #i need to pee #I have read the first chapter like 50 times over its not even funny #(passepartout voice)#GAAAAAAAAAAGH THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING

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rosethi · 4 years

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Please don’t argue over whether Yuki or Kyo had a worse upbringing

Because that’s literally missing the entire point of the story, that people may experience different traumas and are able to heal at their own pace. Don’t presume that someone else has it better, like these two boys did with each other, because you don’t know their story. Kyo and Yuki’s backstories are written to be foils for each other.

Social Status

Kyo is an ostracized outsider that the Sohma clan hates, while Yuki is the celebrated Rat boy who is God’s favorite. They’re both gossiped about but one is pitied and the other envied. Yuki and Kyo’s roles in the Sohma clan are “winner” and “loser”, respectively. The Sohma’s believe that life is a competition where people are judged against each other, and the winner is happier and more worthy than the loser.

Kyo is seen as less-than-human - the Monster, while Yuki is seen as more-than-human - the Prince! Kyo is beneath everyone and deserves to serve a life sentence, while Yuki is put on a pedestal. Both positions are dehumanizing and lonely. The other zodiacs socialized with Kyo because his inferiority makes them feel better about their own sorry circumstances - as explained by Kagura in S02E11. They don’t socialize with Yuki because he’s above them, at the right hand of God.

Kyo naturally socializes with people but is inferior in every visible accomplishment compared to Yuki. Yuki outcompetes Kyo in every competition that Kyo initiates, including swimming, martial arts, running. etc. On the other hand, even though Yuki is considered more naturally talented and accomplished in every measure, but doesn’t know how to socialize. It's degrading to be at the bottom and it's lonely to be at the top.

Family

These poor boys both experienced horrific trauma from their parents as a direct consequence of the above mentioned assigned social statuses. Kyo’s biological parents are pained by his birth and have said that they wish he had never been born. Yuki’s parents were greatly rewarded for giving birth to the Rat. Even though their birth had opposite effects on their parents’ social status within the Sohma clan, both sets of parents abandoned their sons. That being said, Kyo and Yuki were abused and abandoned in very different ways. Kyo is considered a monster which lowers his parent's status. His mom confined Kyo to their home, ashamed and afraid to let anyone else see Kyo. Yuki raises his parent's status, so his parents give him away to Akito and refuses to let him return home.

Both Yuki and Kyo's parents told their sons that they have no inherent value as people, that they are hated by everyone else and that no one will accept them for who they are. Kyo was told that no one will accept his monster form, first implied by his mom’s actions every day for the first few years of his life, and then tragically proven when Kagura ran away from his True Form.

Yuki is told that he’s worthless since his only value comes from a bond with Akito - Akito is the true source of worth here. Yuki’s parents tells him that he has no inherent value as a person, only as a tool for social status and wealth. Kyo’s mother chose death over raising him and his biological father wishes Kyo’s death and life-long punishment. Yuki’s parents abandoned him with apathy. Kyo’s mother lied to him that she loved and accepted him for who he was. Yuki’s mother was truthful and never acted as though she loved him.

After Kyo’s and Yuki’s abandonment by their biological parents due to opposite reasons, their experiences under their new caretakers diverged even more. Kyo was undesirable and publicly abandoned by his parents. Kazuma became Kyo’s new caretaker, initially out of pity. Yuki, however, was desired - but by a malicious family head who wanted to assert control over him. Yuki’s parents “desired” him - albeit only for personal material gains - and hence emotionally and physically abandoned him, but never officially. Publicly, his mother still drove him to school and took him to New Years banquets. Kyo’s new caretaker grew to love Kyo like a son and gave him unconditional parental support and love. However, Kyo’ was never able to fully connect and bond with Kazuma because he’s continually told by the Sohma’s that he’s undeserving of love (until Tohru, that is). Even though Kazuma and Kyo loved each other like father and son, Kyo doubted their relationship because everyone else whispers that Shisho only took in Kyo for the money or out of pity. Yuki, on the other hand, was left to Akito's whims. As we know, Akito made Yuki's life a living hell. Kyo received hate then love that he wasn’t able to trust that it was real, while Yuki received complete apathy and then hate.

Kyo mattered immensely to his parents and they in turn had immense impacts on his life. Kyo’s biological father tells his son that his life is ruined by Kyo and that Kyo drove his mother to suicide. Kyo’s mother loved him in a tragic flawed way and chose to kill herself in front of him. Akito says that Kyo’s mother wrote in her suicide note that she wished that she had given birth to the Rat instead of the Cat.

Toxic Competition

Because Yuki and Kyo had experienced opposite reasoning behind their trauma, they each look to the other for what they don’t have but long to have. The Sohma clan pits them against each other, represented by Kyo’s bet with Akito to win against Yuki. They pit themselves against each other - Kyo envying Yuki for receiving public admiration, while Yuki envies Kyo for connecting easily with others. Yuki compares himself with Kakeru and thinks "I instantly compare myself to others and almost lose myself to how inferior I feel." Their schoolmates pit them against each other - Kakeru explicitly asking Yuki whether Yuki’s simply accepting defeat in a competition to win Tohru’s affections, and saying that Kyo looks happier. The classic story tropes pits them against each other - we were led on by Takaya to believe that the main trio will develop into a typical love triangle. The narrative of Kyo and Yuki competing for Tohru’s is questioned by Yuki and then wholly subverted when Yuki reveals his true feelings towards Tohru.

Fruits Basket’s love triangle subversion tells us very clearly that comparing people’s worth and happiness is toxic and destructive. When Kakeru suggested that Kyo seems happier because he seems to be winning a love competition between Yuki and Kyo, Yuki angrily asks “does it make you happy? Putting happiness on a scale and comparing people, and deciding their relative merits, is it fun to judge these things?” Kakeru apologizes and readily admits that his questions were asked without emphasizing with other people's perspectives. He doesn’t know anything about Yuki and Kyo’s relationships with Tohru, much less about Yuki and Kyo’s relative happiness. Like Kakeru, we the readers expect a love competition only to discover that both boys have beautiful intimate relationships with Tohru. The relationships are different types, one romantic and the other familial/platonic, but neither of them are deemed to be more significant than the other by the story.

This post got so long because I see fans failing to grasp the hypocrisy against the story’s message. I see people saying that Yuki deserved to be with Tohru because he was nicer to her at the beginning. Yuki is a better human than Kyo because he’s nice to everyone. Kyo’s had it worse because he has to contend with a monstrous form. Yuki’s had it worse because his childhood was lonelier. In other words, who’s more deserving? Who should we root for? In comparing Yuki and Kyo like this, we’re acting out all the toxic messages that the story is warning us against.

Don’t judge and compare other people’s happiness and merits. Life is not a competition. It’s okay to progress at your pace, when you are ready. The same message by extension applies to Yuki and Kyo’s past traumas as well. They both had traumatic upbringings and formed their own coping mechanisms in response. Neither of them are better human beings than the other. Neither of them are somehow more “worthy” of Tohru’s love than the other. Both Yuki and Kyo had never felt accepted for who they were until Tohru. Since Yuki’s the first one to start healing from his trauma, he grows enough to recognize that he was wrong to envy Kyo. Yuki’s not better for healing earlier than Kyo, their character progressions make perfect sense given their personal circumstances.

We’ve all been taught the destructive mindset of comparing people against each other. It comes to us easily because it’s entrenched in our society, just like how it’s entrenched in the Sohma clan. I want us Fruits Basket fans to be more self-aware about this toxic system of thinking, because the story wants us to be better.

#fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #yuki sohma #yuki souma #kyo sohma

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dishonestkilla · 3 years

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Bliss

A/N: So, this was inspired by a video @/nishinoyayus posted on tik tok and that is when this headcanon started to bloom inside of me.

Synopsis: Ushijima Wakatoshi, a man of few words and even fewer reactions. If one did think about it, they'd be quick to figure out that the famous athlete was way too stiff for a normal person. However, there was someone who knew better than that, who was aware of Ushijima's stoic personality and what laid underneath the facade. They had seen Ushijima at his worst and his best. When he was on top of the world and when he was lowest. But what happens, when the exact same Y/N happened to trigger an entire inner war to develop between the olive haired male's heart and mind?

TW: angst, mentions of smutty themes, a little foul language, hints at mild drug use(w33d)

The dawning sky brought shimmering rays of light onto the darkened city, the beaming smile of the sun kissing the white sheets spread upon someone's bed. Painted in a caramel gold, the sheets were wrapped around the upper body of no one other than the legendary Ushijima himself. With every shift of his, a muscle twitched, this man had the gods sculpt him from head to toe. The glistening pecs of a deity alike Adonis, honey tinted skin, his face ever so distinctive, prominent jaw and sharp eyes. Overall, the tall man was fairly handsome to say at least.

Despite of his good looks, Ushijima never happened to be interested in a relationship or anything alike, hookups did the thing for him. After all, he was an athlete and did not have the time for a serious relationship, whether his family liked it or not, Ushijima never seemed interested in settling down for the time being, though he never entirely denied it. He always claimed he had yet to find the right person.

But how exactly was he supposed to find a partner whilst traveling all the time? Unlike his current image, Ushijima had matured a lot since highschool, he has changed to a fair extent, Ushijima is not as oblivious as he used to be, he is rather perceptive and has a hunch for understanding the ones around him, though he often simply ignores them if they happen to be of insignificance. He is a busy man and wanting to understand those of no prominence to him would be a waste of time.

The only people he truly cares about are his friends, and to be fair, he tries his best with them, really does. Ushijima is aware of his past and his selfishness, but ever since he has realized that being entirely selfish wouldn't lead one to the top. Therefore he often tried, emphasis on tried to be a good friend, he truly wanted to be, but with how occupied and focused be was, that proved to be harder than expected.

Overlooking all those things, there was one person who always had Ushijima's back, regardless of anything, they had been by his side since highschool, a rock at the stormy shore for him. They never judged him for his behaviour, never claimed they knew better, being the amazing best friend a guy like Ushijima needed.

After highschool, Ushijima had asked them to accompany him on his way to the top. It might have sounded entirely egoistic and self-absorbed, yet that wasn't the case.

Y/N used to be a great volleyball player, they were amazing at what they did, though given the fact that it wasn't their main focus, there wasn't a way for them to go pro. Instead they went to college. Ushijima still remembers how hard working they were, studying till late. However, they always reassured him that it was worth it, and two more dark circles beneath the tender skin of their eyes wouldn't be a crazy change.

Now, they were the co-coach of the national team that Ushijima was part of. Yes, Y/N was not only a great best friend but also a ridiculously good coach. Many would mock the men's team for the latter fact, what they didn't know most of the time, was the fact that as a mere highschooler, alike Ushijima himself, they belonged to the best in their respective field. In their second year they happened to become the second best and continuing on that path, they reached the top, through hard training, extreme measures being taken that sometimes, even Ushijima was worried about his best friend overworking them self.

Fast forward to the current situation, it was around seven in the morning when Ushijima woke up, dragging his broad body towards his kitchen to enjoy some coffee just to be met with the only thing, and honestly most annoying factor of living with his best friend. Unlike Ushijima himself, Y/N lived a double bladed life. One as the presentable and modest co-coach with a short temper who had the men of the team on a leash, a power hovering above them, that even Iwaizumi Hajime, the coach, did not possess.

And then, there was the other side to Y/N, the one who enjoyed getting a kick out of life, the one that drank too much at parties, and didn't mind being higher than the clouds more than often. The worst part? Their very casual hook-ups. One that the olive eyed male had to encounter, topless body on display as the guy stuttered out an apology while collecting his clothes. The heated glare of the bigger man shot daggers at the other, with a grunt he turned his head away as he made a stroll to the coffee machine, luckily, Y/N had already prepared some. Pouring his cup, his orbs fell onto their figure as they walked into sight, leaning at the frame of the door to their bedroom. A mug snug in their hands, though the next sight caused a proud smirk to glaze the face of the wing spider. Unlike what one would await from such a situation, Y/N wore a Jersey, not only any Jersey.. It was the one Ushijims wore during his first match with the national team. They seemed smaller in the piece. It didn't even matter too much that they wore a sacrilege. It filled Ushijima with a weird flame in his guts. It made his insides churn and twist here and there, thus, seeing them wear his clothes while dismissing some one night stand, definitely filled the male with pride.

After both of them had finished their morning routines and had some breakfast, they were off to training again, after all, they had a match in barely two days, everyone had to be on top of their game, prime qualities were the ones needed. And Ushijima knew that as well as his Y/N did.

The two days to the match passed rather quickly and the national team was met with their enemy, it was quite strong themselves. It was obvious that the match would take a toll on the members, so when the last and deciding point fell and the national team of Japan experienced a devastating, yet very very close defeat, that is when Y/N happened to act like the safety rock to the entire team. They told them how the others were older and more experienced, but that they'd get their chance and that the next time, their team would be able to defeat such champion as Poland. They were the second to mention after all.

During the drive home, Ushijima was eerily quiet, yes, that wasn't out of the usual, but the silence this time was heavy, it was thick and laced with tension, tension that Y/N could sense from miles away. They were familiar with the feeling though. The time Shiratorizawa lost against Karasuno, that's when Y/N felt that tension, but that was years ago and ever since, Ushijima took losses not as personal as this time, therefore Y/N decided to get this entire mood out of the way.

As soon as the door closed behind the two, they were quick go grab onto the others wrist, eyes fixing themselves on his.

"Toshi~" their voice was a whispered tone, a tiny purring sensation to it. "Care to tell me what is wrong with you?" They spoke ever so softly as the hand around his wrist let go. "Nothing," the other answered non-chalantly, though Y/N knew better, they knew when he lied. It was that he hesitated to answer, eyes shifting to the ground whenever he did so. "Oh, spare me with your lies Wakatoshi. I can see through your petty dishonesty. So, what is it, spit it out."

With a gruff huff, Ushijima's shoulders slouched slightly, eyes now trained on his best friend, "I missed the receive and messed up, Y/N, I messed this up for us. If it wasn't for m-" before another filthy ounce of self-hatred could even barrel itself out of his plush lips after being processed by that bird brain of his, Y/N was quick to wrap their arms around the torso of the tall man, their head on his chest as their brows furrowed in annoyance while talking to him, " Don't say such things about yourself, everyone knows that you did your best, hell. None of them stopped the ball, they couldn't. And so what if you didn't manage to do so? It is not the end. I think you guys forget who your opponent was. They are not the second best to be beaten down ever so easily. It takes us more training and time but instead of sulking, learn something from it." Listening to his breathing, the calm, steady pace of it being ever so reassuring, but when that flow was stopped by a hitch, Y/N realized one thing. Ushijima didn't hug them back yet, his arms slumped at his sides as he simply stood there, eyes widened in shock and something they couldn't entirely decipher.

Time stood still, Ushijima couldn't move, couldn't speak. Throat dry as if he hadn't hydrated for weeks, months, if not years. Yes, Ushijima and Y/N were friends, best friends, though there was one astonishing fact about their relationship. Ushijima did not ever show interest in cuddling or hugging to begin with, not to mention that he often dodged them, if they weren't after glorious victories.

Most people would tell him to get over it, to stop dwelling over such a simple act. But to Ushijima had a different point of view on the entire thing. Why? Ushijima did not experience the privilege of tenderness. His mother did not hug and comfort Ushijima, she wasn't affectionate. After his father had left, Ushijima was hit with an even stricter family, no one stood up for him, so while maturing, his behavioral patters of being ever so stoic and disinterested could be blamed on that. How could one show excessive emotional reactions when never confronted with them in their household, being told they were inappropriate and would lead to disciplinary punishments?

But the way Y/N swiftly embraced the male while trying their nest to comfort him, something in his mind snapped, as if a pair of chains that had winded themselves around his brain down to his heard had been removed, like a string inside of him had snapped and the sound being the reason for him to act instead of retreat. And in that very moment, Ushijima realized something more, there was a sensation beneath his cold outerior, the usually emotionless Ushijima Wakatoshi felt like electricity was running through his veins, bolts playing hide and seek on his skin, that's when he knew Y/N was more than a friend, more than a best friend, so much more, a soul mate, the partner he needed.

With a big step and almost harsh movements Ushijima basically pulled the retreating Y/N against his muscular chest again, his head burying in the crook of their neck as he held them there, body shaking with vigor as a sob left his throat.

Eyes widening in realization, Y/N pushed a little against the other, just to be confronted with a heart wrenching sight. The big, scary Ushijima with tears lacing his orbs, their fire and flame died down just the slightest as his cheeks were stained with a few glistening streaks with the wetness of the discharge.

"Toshi..!" Before Y/N could continue with their words, Ushijima was quick to shush them down, "Listen to me please. All these years I have been running from any sort of affection, I had no idea how to initiate it in the first place. Which, is caused by the upbringing of my mother and her family, but today, today you showed me that a failure does not make me equal to a failure. You proved to me that I can be weak at times.. zand that craving a casualty like a hug is human nature, and that is why it is okay to hug."

The way Ushijima explained his feelings made the best friend chuckle. Even now his words were controlled and neatly picked. He was such a dork despite of his serious self.

"And there is something more, something I cannot entirely understand, but I think this is what love is. At least the feeling is the same as described in the magazines Tendou used to read."

For a second Y/N was the one stunned, words stuck in their throat. It would be a lie to say that Y/N did not like Ushijima more than a little friend, ever since highschool they had been crushing on their now best friend. When did it start though? Was it when they saw Ushijima and his overwhelming presence in the halls, or was it when Tendou who happened to know Y/N for years as they were friends in middle school, or was it on the field. The game against aoba johsai, was it then? When Ushijima stood there so proud, showed off his skills sthey admired so much? Or was it the day Ushijima came to them, devastated in a sense, not crying but being way too talkative about the match against Karasuno, that night he laid his head on their lap, letting them play with his hair as they listened to music together? That must have been it. That was when Y/N knew they loved Ushijima. But knowing him, they were aware of how focused he was on volleyball and his future. Yes, that second they chose not to indulge with him in any other sense than friends. They'd stop him, wouldn't they?

"Wakatoshi..I do love you, always have, always will, but I don't think this is a good idea, I would only stop you and you know that, too. In our worlds, dating is not very convenient."

Y/N explained ever so rationally, but Ushijima wouldn't understand, he didn't want to, that is why his next movement caused the other to visibly flinch as his lips found theirs, melting into each other. Y/N's resolve simply crumbled in front of Ushijima, a smirk on his lips as one hand tagged with the back of their neck, tugging at the hair, eyes darkening with lust clouding the mind of the mind baffling wing spiker.

Ushijima was a non-chalant, aloof and sober man, but when lust lingered in his being, the entire persona made a 360°. No words needed to be spoken between the two as the large man pushed the soul mate in question into the nearest wall, impatient and needy on both sides, "Jump," he ordered, dominance oozing off of the olive haired man.

Without further instructions, Y/N showed to be compliant in the situation, back against the wall as their lips molded together again, hands roaming each other before one pulled away to catch air. With that, Y/N was carried away, the scent of pleasure and passion filling the entire area.

The rest of the night is a telltale of sinful sounds, a bed breaking due to the impact of the excitement and lustful rage, if one would ask the neighbour's, they'd probably be able to recall the sounds even the devil would consider inappropriate.

From that night on, Ushijima and Y/N happened to be dating each other, not much later making the announcement publicly, and unlike Y/N's fear of rejection by the fans and supporters of the player, they were met with a positive wave. Some even complaining that it took them oh so long to realize while everyone already knew.

The only person more excited than the both happened to be an infamous red head who was now rich off of his skills as the 'Chocolatier fou de Paris' which meant something along the lines of the 'Mad Chocolatier of Paris'. His voice was so hectic and high pitched, a little upset he was not the first person to be told but their friends in their Japan.

Overall, the two were blessed with each other, love finally being gifted to the two. In such cruel and difficult world, Y/N and Ushijima were each others strong rock to lean on.

A/N: This took an eternity LMAO, but I hope yall like it, I'd be happy to get feedback and also, my requests are open, so please, request stuff, I really like writing and requests could help against my writers block. Cyaa💕💕

#haikyuu!!#angst #haikyuu #haikyuu boys #haikyuu imagines #anime #ushijima #ushijima drabble #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fluff #ushijima x y/n #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima headcanons #hq ushijima #ushy gushy #ushijima is not boring k

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betweentheracks · 3 years

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Heyo! Not to be too nosy here but you mentioned you're in bad health and recovering, and I just wondered what happened? Also how would it impact your career since, from how you've made it all seem thus far, it's a highly active and demanding job?

Hope you take care and get well! You appear quite strong and not like you'd take whatever has happened just lying down, so here's to you!! 🙏💓

No sweat and no worries here, I dont find this particularly invasive. If anything, I'm flattered you care to ask after me lol. 😁

A few weeks back I met a friend I hadn't seen in some time for lunch. This was against my better sense of caution that I've held firmly to throughout the pandemic, but I would feel regretful and dismissive if I didnt agree to see her while I had the chance. I should've listened my gut and stayed safely at work because this "friend" failed to mention she had tested positive (she knew already by the time of our lunch date, she has since admitted) and had figured since she had no symptoms there was no harm in being in public.

FF only a few days later and I was feeling a little unwell but had put it off as an effect of the winter blast that had just hit where I live. I'd spent half a day out in the cold and snow for a photoshoot only the day before and thought it was probably due to that since I'm susceptible to weather influenced head colds and bronchitis. Fortunately, my job mandates a rigid COVID-19 screening twice a week due to our high profile clientele and as an assurance of health and safety for us all. Mine read back with a positive and with the way I had been feeling I was immediately sent home and the company closed its doors while the building was sterilized and our clients notified.

Thankfully I managed not to infect anyone I work with nor my son. Regrettably, I did infect my best friend since we're horrifically incapable of maintaining personal space and have weak shit immune systems. We both agree it is a wonder we made it this far into plague times without it catching us.

So I went and got looked over and sent on my way with my prescription of potent anti-virals and steroids. I was well prepared to abide the quarantine guidelines and had sent my son to my mother's home for the duration so that he was out of the danger zone. It was fine, I was kinda cool and keen on getting a few days to myself to rest up and all that jazz. But it wasn't meant to last and I found trouble in the form of being unable to remain conscious much at all and would pass out constantly. After a few times of this I gave my brother (he's a doctor and vaccinated) a ring and told him that my fatigue was no joke dude and needed him to come give me a better once over than the one I'd gotten before bc I was sure I was not meant to feel this badly. He found me unconscious in the shower that night, my head battered from crashing to the basin.

After ensuring I wasn't concussed and jokes on what a hard head I have to take such a beating and show no signs of registering it beyond bruising (a joke between us due to him having once accidentally put a golf club into my forehead and fracturing my skull but that's a different story) he told me to call him regularly so that he can review how I feel and the progression of my symptoms and left. By the morning I had already had two more instances of sudden fatigue and collapsing in on myself. I had been posting on my main blog here about how I was doing and due to this I caught the concern of @peekbackstage and upon their suggestion to have my O2 levels tested it was revealed that I was having issues with my blood not circulating oxygen as it should and nearing hypoxia.

Here's the rub. I have a heart condition that is already very dangerous and bleak which limits my heart's capability of delivering blood through my body as it should. Cardiomyopathy or, as it seems better known, congestive heart failure. I've had surgery for it and it has been a while since it caused me any real issues as long as I stick to my routine of care and manage my health, but when COVID-19 infiltrated my body it immediately snagged upon this weak heart of mine and sank its fangs in.

Within a day of being admitted to the hospital I had a grand mal seizure due to the constant fluctuations of oxygen in my blood and the way my body was working double time to supplement for it. And only 2 days after that and when my nervous system had finally quieted down, I went into full cardiac arrest with a heart attack at my young age.

My next weeks were spent connected to machines doing more for me than my own body could. I developed pneumonia in my lungs, acute though it was it was still another complication that my wrecked body had to overcome as it made my already ragged breathing even worse. I was steadily shedding muscle tone and definition due to a lack of mobility and the fact that my body felt like a deadweight I could hardly take command of, and generally very weakened. My heart, the horrible thing, was inflamed and trying too hard by beating too fast, too hard.

FF some more and I was doing fairly well and treatments were showing some improvement. My heart was still being an ugly and gnarled beast in my chest and throwing weird spikes on the monitor that raised alarms. The pneumonia was retreating and I had no further seizures. It was the dawning light of my first signs that I was recovering!

It took a while more and so fucking many tests day in and day out for me get cleared for release. I tested negative for COVID-19 and was ashamed that I actually forgot that that was why I was even in the hospital to begin with, given all that happened. I have to undergo physical therapy and counseling; PT for heart happy exercises as well as to manage to my depleted muscles, counseling bc I was rocked mentally from all the almost dying and the depressive haze of being holed up in the hospital and surrounded by people who, like me, came in with COVID-19 but unlike me did not come out of it.

I'm home now. I had to have a pacemaker implanted and must stay vigilant for any showing that my heart is not performing as it should. I still have some severe inflammation and chest restriction in my airways as well as my blood vessels but nothing too daunting. I also have a full battalion of prescriptions, most for my heart, and a nebulizer to ease any breathing issues. The worst is honestly that I still am very weak and have severely limited reserves of energy.

My job is required to make me take 12 weeks of leave for rest and recuperation. This is very upsetting since I had been requested by name to be an assistant stylist at the Grammys this year which is truly a dream (especially with BTS in the mix 😩😩) and also bc I'm just a workaholic by nature and love my job. When I return I am expected to learn how to properly delegate tasks that do not directly require me to handle and slow down the pacing of my projects. My boss terminated a contract with a client that was nearing the scheduled end of our agreement and was also incredibly problematic to help lighten my workload. It's imperative that I reign in my stress levels or my heart will not last until the next surgery I'll need, so I'm gritting my teeth and letting my job be picked apart to reduce my responsibilities.

My post awaits my return but I will not be returning to full activity for a while after, which means no rifling through the racks for hours alongside the archivists in search of the perfect piece. I'll be welcome to meet with my clients and oversee the glam teams, will still be the command tower for final verdicts on which styles to use. But I will not be running around showrooms nor personally handling matters any competent trainee could be tasked with like I've always done. I will no longer be able to fly out anywhere for destination shoots or fashion shows.

If, after my next surgery, things are better and my heart stable to the point that they are hopeful of things will be reevaluated. While it is difficult beyond measure for me to relinquish the reigns of my career and be restricted in what I can do now, I am very thankful to be alive and upright when that wasn't a certainty just a little while ago. This is such a humbling experience to have survived when my stats kept dropping every day. I've been told to expect that I will never make a full 100% recovery and to expect to stall out around the 70%-90% range, with 70% being the most realistic.

My best friend (the one I gave the plague to) will be moving in with me so that I am never on my own if things go tits up and to assist in wrangling a toddler since I am currently without the energy to do so as my child is, sincerely, a crazy gremlin spawn with limitless battery life. Slowly, my life will regain some normalcy 💖

#racks asks #personal and long winded - read at own risk

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planesofduality · 3 years

Text

Full Transcript edition:

“The Story Behind Solas with Dragon Age Lead Writer Patrick Weekes” by Dialogue Wheel/Video Game Sophistry

Reblog of one of my first posts ever. I didn’t understand how tumblr worked back then really, and long story short, I split the transcript of this interview into 3 parts :) I’d probably do things differently now. Reblogging it as a single transcript for my own convenience, as I still refer to some of the things Weekes said here from time to time!

Interview is from before Trespasser DLC; posted to YouTube 12/20/2019

Note: pseudo-reblog

“Interview with lead writer for Dragon Age Patrick Weekes years ago about how the enigmatic character Solas was created, here is what that magic elf could have up his sleeve for us in Dragon Age 4.” Not my interview, just wrote transcript of questions and answers for reference.

Full video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFx1nCdZFjw&t=1s

Time: 2:54

Solas, tell us about little old Solas. Talking about your other characters you created we always start at the beginning. Pen to paper - How did the idea of Solas first start? What was that first iteration?

So actually Dave and Mike both, you know, we - everyone knew who Solas was - everyone knew what the ending was going to be with him. And, you know, Dave and Mike said, “Well Dave is writing a ton of the crit path, the main part of the game. Dave really wants to do Dorian, that’s very important to him, and are you comfortable writing this guy? Are you comfortable writing someone who is going to be, in some respects, deceiving the Inquisitor for the entirety of the game?” And, honestly, how do you turn that down?

Time: 4:02

So really it was that simple then - from there, in the way you described it, they already had some ideas and some concepts about what Solas needed to bring?

Oh, yeah. Originally, one of the most difficult parts of writing him - and, you know, I said Iron Bull was the one closest to how I originally planned him - Solas and Cole are probably tied for least like how I originally wrote them. And, really, it was getting past the secret. It was getting past Fen’Harel.

Iron Bull: badass former spy, the opposite of Sten.

Blackwall: awesome Grey Warden who is not actually a Grey Warden.

Solas: He’s Fen’Harel…

Okay, can he tell you he’s Fen’Harel? No.

Okay, well what are we going to talk about?

[Pretending to be Solas:] “Hey Inquisitor, I’m still not Fen’Harel, do you have any questions?”, “I will not take any questions about whether I am Fen’Harel.” That was the big stumbling block of writing him.

I remember the first draft… the first draft all we talked about was elves. It was elves all the time. Every conversation went “Elves, elves… Elves were awesome back in the old days.. Everything was great with the elves.” And then you’d go, “You really like elves huh?” “No, shut up - I’m not Fen’Harel.” And we all kind of looked at that and went, that’s not really much of a character hook. You cannot have a character hook built on something that you only reveal after the play has watched the credits. That is how we got to Fade expert. That is something where, if something had gone terribly wrong, if we were six months from shipped and we decided not to do anything with elves in the future, we could have taken the Dread Wolf out of the equation entirely and a mage named Solas who loves the Fade, is an apostate but without all of the fear and anger that you think of when you think of an apostate, but is just this guy who wants to travel through dreams and find mysteries and explore… that was a good enough character to stand by itself. That is what it took us a couple of drafts to get to.

Time: 7:04

You mentioned the first two phases of Solas - share with us a little more of that journey, when you finally go to this character that could stand on its own. If you don’t mind, a little more of that journey- was it just those first two and now everything’s cool?

First draft was “ ‘Elves, elves’ but ‘I don’t like elves’”. Second draft was about how much to tell. I think in the next draft it was significantly closer. Anyone who looked at that draft - and, you know, I apologize to anyone who looked at that draft - but, anyone who looked at that draft you would find places where “Oh okay that’s the Solas I know and love. There he is. He likes the Fade.” That’s something that’s actually interesting. But, he lied a lot more. And it actually really weakened his character. We played it so close with both Blackwall and Solas - both characters are the liars who don’t actually lie. They will tell you almost truths. With Blackwall - he never actually flat-out says “I am a Grey Warden.” If you ask him what it’s like being a Grey Warden he will say "Well a warden embodies this and a warden embodies that… I’ve been blessed in my travels.” You know, he never actually quite says “I’m a Warden.” With Solas it’s the same way with the hand wave of ‘in the Fade’. I would start putting ‘in the Fade’ at the end of a lot of sentences. “Yeah turns out that all of the stuff you thought was true in history was wrong… because I saw it…. in the Fade.”

In revision 2, he lied a lot more. On the one hand it worked, on the other hand it made him less tragic, more of jerk when we got to the reveal. So that is how we got to what we made him into: this character who is intelligent, wise… Solas will think very carefully before he tells you anything and anything he tells you is exactly as much as he wants you to know. That actually led to one of the funny little game moments - one of the last things we do is add the places where characters will approve or disapprove. I think what I want Solas to approve us is you actually asking questions . He’s kind of unique in that regard - What Solas approves us is people who are interested in finding out knowledge. Whether they are finding it out from him or they’re talking with other people, Solas wants people to explore, he wants people to find information, he wants people to learn. What he disapproves of, honestly, more than what you do, is in many ways how you do it. You can do the thing that he wants you to do, but if you do it in a knee-jerk way, Solas hates that. He wants to know that you are carefully considering your options and taking a measured approach.

Time: 12:16

When it comes the characterization of a character that you’ve already been give at least some sort of name to. We know that this character is some sort of trickster god - when you were trying to develop and make him some a stand-alone character, did you ever have to rely on what the mythos already established of this particular kind of eighth-seat god that maybe a lot people hadn’t heard a lot about?

Well, I think, like we talked about before, one of the great things about the Dragon Age universe is everything that you learn in a codex entry is something that someone else heard in a story and wrote it down somewhere and you’re reading half of the book. So the good news on that is anything we wanted to do with Fen’Harel, there was so little and what was in there was already so sketchy that we had all the freedom we needed to play with him.

That turned out to be a nice thing because I think if we had someone that was completely by-the-books, already established, their character already given, it would feel like more of a letdown to write that as a character or you would have to play against type, you’d have to do something completely different to show he wasn’t just what the stories wrote about him. And, you know, in some ways that is both liberating but also disappointing to people who might have liked the original stories. This was a fun experience of getting to fill in some of the gaps.

The only thing I think we had to struggle against is that anyone who hears “trickster” or anyone who hears “oh, he’s chaotic and unpredictable” it feels like there is a natural urge to go to “He’s Loki in the Avengers. He’s the guy who’s gonna make large grand-standing plans.” Or, you know, “He’s the Riddler, who’s gonna leave clues to test you.” We had to get away from that: “Let’s tone that back a little bit, let’s not have him be the Jack Nicholson Joker version of the Dread Wolf.”

That’s quite a quote.

You got Dorian as a large, grandiose , extravagant figure and it would have been easy to have him go that way. It was fortunate that we had Dorian as the mage who had the larger-than-life persona already to make Solas be the quiet one.

Time: 15:21

Was there ever an instance where you were really pushed with giving some indicators to the player that Solas may have some connection to this going through the gameplay? Because you do see a lot statues of Fen’Harel. There’s many instances of where you’re discussing it, you’re traveling through those lands. Where do you walk that line, how do you walk that line, or do you just completely disregard it whatsoever?

The goal we had is we wanted the very careful players, the very sensitive players, who were playing attention and watching every scene with Solas to know that something was up and to want more answers and then go to “OH MAN” as soon as the stinger after the credits rolled. But we wanted most players to just go “Oh, okay, he’s like ‘Fade nerd.’ He’s like ‘hippie guy.’”

The other thing we wanted was everyone on their second playthrough, as soon as they talked to Solas to be like “Oh, man, he’s just saying it. He just flat-out said it right there and I missed it completely the first time!” I think we called it the “inevitable in retrospect”- or the “slap the forehead on the second playthrough” style of writing, where we wanted people to see that the most interesting thing about the trickster god is he’s not actually that great of a liar - He is almost telling you a lot of the time. And, you know, some of the tragedy is it that you never had the chance to actually ask, “Wait -are you Fen’harel?”

Time: 17:13

We talked about leaving breadcrumbs, what that meant. Now the big turn, the big scene at the ending: How did this come about, were you really involved in that sort of process and are you happy with it?

Oh, I’m absolutely happy with it. It went through several iterations,. Mike was hugely involved. The writing was definitely done by Dave; it was a huge crit path moment. He had me give a look at the Solas voice, I think I looked at it, I don’t think I actually changed a single word in the final one.

We had versions where after the main plot it was actually going to be a full plot where you the player went and were actually present when Solas confronts Mythal. We had a part where we said, “Wow that’s too big, a lot of players are gonna miss that, we’ll make it a DLC.” So it was gonna be a separate DLC where that happened. At one point we said “No, this is too big, we actually - let’s cut it and address it next game.” So it was going to be this thing that we pushed off into some future content.

I am really happy with what we went with, because, I think, you know, for my money, that short, little Marvel-style, after-the-credits stinger is what we needed. We needed something so that everyone who was paying attention and everyone who was really invested could go “oh my god!” And go, “Okay, so, just in case you were wondering, we’re not done, we have more stories to tell, and we are confident enough in what we are doing that we are willing to throw that ball.” That stinger is essentially us throwing a football to future us, trusting that we are going to catch it. Because, you know, at the end, we had that level of confidence. We felt that we had that level of confidence, we felt we made a really good game. Dave led an amazing team of writers, and I’m really touched that he has the confidence to believe that I’ll be able to carry that on for him.

Time: 19:49

When we spoke to Dave, one of the big moments that he mentioned, was when he created kind of a long-term idea for what’s going to happen in the Dragon Age universe. And to hear him say it, he mentioned that what he originally wanted for Dragon Age: Inquisition couldn’t happen - it was far too big - it wouldn’t work. And you guys had talked about taking that concept, finishing Inquisition somewhere in the middle of that concept arc, and then using at least an influence or something like that to affect the franchise going forward. Speaking with you now, as someone who has taken up the reins, do you know what I’m talking about? Am I talking crazy? Where do you see it going?

Um…

Reasonably - of what you can say on this.

So here’s the last scene of the next game… (laughs). I think there’s an extent to which no plan really survives contact with the audience when it comes to video games. We look at how fans react, we look at what hit, what rang true with everyone. You know, it’s funny, having people react angrily actually isn’t as bad as having people ignore things sometimes. Having people react angrily means they were definitely emotionally engaged, so you know you hit something there. Whereas having fans go, “I don’t know, fine, I guess, whatever” and move on means, “Okay, I don’t know if that’s what we want to go back to. We didn’t actually get anything from them there, they didn’t actually remember that later.” So that’s a phase that comes after every game we ship. We look at what hit, what missed, and where we want to go from there.

Now that said, Dave’s future plan is, I think, fantastic, epic, and heartbreaking. Our plan is to use that as our starting point. To look at where we want to go, what we want to do, and it will not be - and I, you know, Dave and I have talked about this - it will not be the story that Dave would tell if he were still here as lead writer. Because it could never be that. We can get into that when we talk about Cole a little bit, but if I tried to do that I would just be doing a bad impersonation of Dave Gaider and no one is ever going to be as good at that as Dave is. My goal going forward is to, as lead, put my own spin on that process, put my own spin on the plots going forward, on the thematic elements, while keeping those same thematic elements that we had. Because, I think, what Dave has set in motion in three games, countless DLCs and expansions, is something that can endure: The idea that no choice is ever really that easy and that the great events always stem from human-understandable motivations.

So, that is where I think where we are going to go, as vaguely as I can say.

Time: 23:30

Speaking of specifically to Solas: His continuation of the story. Adding that little “Marvel moment” at the end - what do you think that did for the crit path and the overall arc of the story that players experienced in Dragon Age: Inquisition. Do you think they would have been more satisfied if there was a DLC or is that just us gamers complaining because we can’t get everything we want right away?

Well, I think you want to leave people wanting more. “Man I wish you guys had done more” is a better problem to have than “Man I wish you guys had done less.” So, I think, looking at it from inside the studio, we didn’t have the resources to do much more than we did. So it was never going to be the big moment right then anyway. From my perspective, the reason I’m really happy we have it is, like I said, I thought it was a vote of confidence. The team is still the Dragon Age team and it is still the writers and designers who did everything else, who made such wonderful characters and were responsible for such fantastic plots.

Time 25:10

Well, again, looking at that in its completion, it’s good to see that even a character that needed to give you a stinger in your estimation didn’t take away, I guess, from the overall story you were trying to tell.

Well, thank you. Yeah it was obviously the moment we were building toward, but again, the goal was even if we didn’t have that stringer, he was still an interesting enough character that people would have not felt cheated that he was in the party.

Time: 25:35

One of the most beautiful scenes I think in Dragon Age Inquisition is the scene that you get with Solas if you play as a female elf Inquisitor. Talk a little bit about that choice to have this romance option very, very specific. It’s race- and gender- specific. Why that scene - what that scene meant and a lot of the subtext, because it is a very rich sequence of scenes, not just one. And, I think it’s really one of the most interesting romances in the game.

I love that scene because that scene for me shows how far we’ve gone past - not the make myself irrelevant anymore - but how far we’ve gone with the digital acting. Jonathan Epp the cine-designer for that scene put it together and when you take everything that Gareth David Lloyd - the voice actor - everything he did on his lines. And just putting so much tragedy, and making it clear in every line that he wants to say more than he can. And with Jon Epp the cine-designer, just in the wordless scenes: showing the tragedy, showing the heartbreak, showing how much he does genuinely care against his better judgement, and how he finally forces himself to step away.,

You know how I said when we were talking about the Iron Bull - everything, every major moment we do, is there for a specific type of player fantasy fulfillment. And you know, not all types of fantasies are the happy ones. There’s a reason why The Phantom of the Opera was on Broadway for so many years and it’s not because it has a happy ending.

The Phantom of the Opera isn’t exactly the theme for the romance - the razor was something closer to almost professor and student in some ways. He definitely comes across as a mentor in some ways. When he finally steps back it is him beating himself up, not you, saying “Wow what I have done here is actually really unfair to you, and you, player, at the time don’t know that I’m beating myself up because I’m actually 1000s of years old and not the person you think I am and it’s disrespectful to you for me to continue this relationship.” So it’s a very moral perspective for our ancient, quasi-evil, trickster god to come with.

Time: 28:41

And it’s amazing because it’s another instance of content that so few players would actually get an opportunity to see. When it comes to making it that specific, I guess, why was that choice made? Because usually a lot of your content - most of the Dragon Age content - it’s very easy to get really rich, wonderful characters right in your face and have those wonderful “eat-em-up” experiences, why for this one was it such a steep price to get in?

You know, I won’t lie, a lot of it came from some of our designers. Some of the women in the design department really, really loving his voice and saying, “You are absolutely fools if you do not make him romance-able in some capacity.” And, really, his story overall is - and, you know, I think we’ve only hinted at that but I think we have hinted at it enough that I can at least say this part of it - his story isn’t a happy one. His story is one, where, if you look at him and Mythal, there is clearly some grief, there is clearly some tragedy. And, adding in the option - even for players who don’t take it - on my end as a writer, knowing that some players will have this as a star-crossed, forbidden romance, you know, it makes him more sympathetic. It’s important to me as a writer because when you’re writing about someone who, according to Flemeth, is at least somewhat responsible for the bad guy getting the magical item that he used to blow up half a mountain in the prologue, it’s important to have something in there that you can always have, as a writer, look at as your touchstone and go “This is a real person. This is someone who experiences sadness. This is someone who falls in love.” Even if he doesn’t do it with that Inquisitor on that playthrough, this is always someone who can be like that.

Time: 30:58

Where do you see a character like Solas ending up?

(Big sigh) Musical theater.

(laughs) Right when we reach those beautiful moments, Patrick!

I think that it is fantastic that people have emotionally engaged with Solas and I hope we get a chance to explore that in some future content.

Alright and that’s the most that we’re getting right now.

Time: 31:37

Oh, and here’s a little tie in: Here Lies the Abyss, the demon that spoke to Solas - what was all that about, what was that going on?

Oh yes - the demon who speaks perfect Elven!

Yes perfectly to him, and if you remember any of that - did you have anything to do with that?

Yes, Here Lies the Abyss was mine. It was a fun plot. It was a terrifyingly difficult plot, because - I’m not sure how clear this is to players that have one done one playthrough or with one import state - but your key characters throughout the events at Adamant Fortress and then the events of the Fade, it’s a customizable Hawke. Which means it could be a male Hawke or a female Hawke and within that, Hawke from Dragon Age 2 is characterized by one of three different attitudes: friendly, grim, or sarcastic. So, that’s three attitudes times two genders, that’s six different Hawkes and three different possible Grey Wardens: Alistair, Loghain, or Stroud. So, the process of going through Adamant Fortress and then going through the Fade was a crazy juggling act of trying to keep track of “Okay, now one of these five people, these five Schrodinger’s cat quantum people, will say this line, and then another of these five Schrodinger’s cat quantum people will respond with this line.”

It’s important to remember that as we went through everything in Adamant Fortress and the Fade was taking place in that contest. There was a long period time when we were looking at that really going, “Okay, I just have to hope this actually makes sense when it’s nothing but Alistair and my sarcastic female Hawke.”

But, to actually answer your question. As I recall, the Nightmare, who as a friendly, chipper guy was basically - I do basically two types of villains: I do the villain who thinks he or she is the hero, and is misguided and has opposed goals, and is kind of tragic and tortured in that way. And then I do the mean-girl villain who says snotty high school insults.

That’s it - that’s the gambit.

Well, just about, yes. I’m looking forward to see who writes the villain in the future Dragon Age games - so get ready for either tragic pathos or really, really good high school mean-girl zingers.

As I recall, he was speaking Elven to Solas and if I remember right, he said, “Your pride is responsible for everything that has gone wrong” and I think he said “You will die alone.” And then Solas said something that translates to either “Nothing is known for certain” or “Not necessarily.”

And what does all that mean?

Well I think it’s fascinating that people are emotionally engaged, and I hope we have the chance -

It was a very asked question - it was a question that was asked a lot. Specific to that.

Oh, I’m not surprised, and I hope one day that we can tell you. But, obviously, that demon knows that Solas is hurting and Solas feels guilty about some stuff and really wanted to dig in there, and Solas was shouting back.

Literally just describing what happened (laughs). All right, so something that will clearly be talked about in other games.

TIme: 36:22

Dealing with this particular quest I really think that this was one opportunity to involve the Grey Wardens in a story, and a world, that kind of progressingly, after the first game had less and less of a need to exist - let alone in the world - but in the main characters arc. Talking to David I remember initially there was some idea for this particular mission they would just fall into the hole and be hanging out in the Deep Roads, and having out with the dwarves, so tell us a little bit about this creation.

A lot of the process of writing these large plots, like I talked about the razor, you figure out what the core concept is, you always start with a lot of things, and in most cases what you then end up having to do is cut. And if you’re not someone in the studio, talking about having to cut things sounds like you’re losing awesome content, you’re ruining what would have been clearly the best part of the plot. Inside the studio though, most cases what you’re cutting is the stuff that didn’t actually help tell the story you wanted to tell.

So yes in the original version, in a very early draft, actually this was before I was actually on the plot - this predates me - there was, yes, going into the Deep Roads, and when you fell in instead of ending up in the Fade you ended up down in the dark. And finding out what the Grey Wardens in this version of the story had been involved with the Architect from Dragon Age: Awakening. It was an interesting direction, and it was, I think, a very cool direction, but it did not help tell the story of the Inquisition. It was more a story of “Hey, if we wanted to do more with the Hero of Fereldan, here is an interesting place we could go” and it did not help tell the story of “What is the Inquisition doing?” “What is Corypheus doing?”, “How do these two organizations bounce off each other and who’s caught in the middle?” So trying to come to terms with the Grey Wardens in this game not being the protagonists, not being the group that is in the center of the action but being the group that is caught in the middle of this power struggle was something that led to us having to eventually do the re-jiggering that got us to the plot you saw.

#i remember this took forever to transcribe lol #much respect to the people and computers who do this for a living #dragon age #patrick weekes #solas #reblog

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pointnumbersixteen · 3 years

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A Head Cannon Biography and Character Analysis and of the Captain, Part 5: Everything the Captain Does Wrong in the First Flashback of Reddy Weddy in Sixteen Points

Which finally gets us back to the flashback scenes in Reddy Weddy.

Is this about to be over 2,000 words shredding the command performance of my favorite character? Yes, it is, but I do it with all the love in the world.

I’ll start with the first scene, which starts out as a morning brief. It shows just how awful he is at the whole ‘leader of men’ thing. What did he do wrong? This is going to go on for a while. The TLDR version is: literally everything. There is not a single word or action of his in that scene that went right. And it had to be intentional, as Ben Willbond is an admitted military buff, he has to know what proper military bearing is supposed to look like, and he wrote the episode.

I should preface this with saying that I absolutely adore the Captain in this scene, with his silly, over-excitable and ridiculously awkward self. But the first time I saw it, the part of me that spent four years in the US army was screaming inside about how terrible his performance was as a CO. Just picture yourself as one of those respectable and sensible young military personnel sitting in the seats listening to him with the thought, ‘if the Germans come this is the guy that’s going to be responsible for me in battle,’ and try not to cringe just a little.

First, starting with a bit of background: morning briefs are torture. They are the most boring things in the world. Everyone hates them. They’re one of those situations when you can just feel yourself slowly dying. Good commanders know that and try to keep them as short as possible. Bad commanders who don’t mind that their troops are silently hating them the whole time go on a bit longer, but even then, I don’t think I ever sat through one that made it through more than five or six points. The Captain’s very first line in the episode states that he is on POINT NUMBER SIXTEEN (the absurdity of which gave me the handle for this side-blog). His subordinates are blank faced. They’ve probably been tuning this tedious BS out since point number four.

Second, point number sixteen is, to paraphrase, “Why am I still hearing laughter after hours? We are at war. Fun is banned.” In a stern lecture tone. No, Captain, pet, just because the army probably sucked all the joy out of your life, doesn’t mean that no one is allowed to be happy in the military, even during wartime. My dear, actually you should be encouraging them to decompress however they can, as long as it isn’t inappropriate or interfering with their duties, because war is stressful, even if you’re not on the front lines. The military in general is stressful, even when you’re not at war. Joking and horseplay- as long as it isn’t the sort of thing that isn’t going to get anyone injured- is good for morale. And modern militaries have morale officers for a reason. At this point, the man in the middle of the front row breaks his blank face momentarily to give the woman next to him a ‘can you believe this crap?’ look.

Third, the Captain goes on and backs this up by essentially saying (again paraphrased), “I understand you all are bored, I’m bored, too, this shit is boring, but this is where the army stuck us so we have to deal.” Which again is the wrong answer. That is precisely how NOT to motivate people to do their best. This is a situation where the officer should try to generate enthusiasm amongst his subordinates for their roles. Even if he wanted to provide a similar sentiment, the word ‘bored’ never should have entered the equation. Everyone is bored most of the time in the military, but it’s not something the higher ranks acknowledge, because acknowledging it helps nothing. His statement should have been something more like, “I understand that some of you are frustrated that you’re not serving in combat, but what we’re doing here in support of the war effort is important, and it will take all of us doing our parts, both out there on the front, and back here in England, to win this thing.”

Next, when Havers comes in with the message for him, he speculates out loud about it being an answer to his pistol requisition. He shouldn’t have done this, and gets two wrong points for it.

The fourth is because while I find his excitement about that pistol endearing, like a little boy hoping for just the right present from Santa at Christmas (and still pining for it 75 years after his death, as noted in the ‘going to the shops’ game with Fannie in s2e4), it probably comes off as foolish or childish to his subordinates. The gun he really wants to have probably should not be the first thing that comes to his mind when communicating with command. There’s a war on. There have to be at least one or two things that are more important.

The fifth is because you’re not supposed to reveal any of your command requests to your subordinates until you know how they’re going to turn out, and then only the ones that are approved, because if you reveal you’ve requested something and it isn’t granted, particularly something as simple as being issued a side arm, it starts to look like higher command doesn’t favor you or have confidence in you. Which in his case is probably true. But that’s not something he should reveal to his troops by way of letting them know he requested a fancy new side arm and then never received one. He might as well have put a sign on his back that said, “Command trusts me so little they won’t even give me a gun.”

Sixth, when he reads the actual message, he just blurts out something to the order of, “good god, France has surrendered.” Which is not how the other people in the room should have received that information. There should have been some sort of measured, more dignified, official sounding announcement. “It’s my duty to inform you all that unfortunately France surrendered to the Germans yesterday,” or something of the sort at the bare minimum. But no, he just blurts it out. Well, Havers asks him what’s wrong after the “good god” part, but he still shouldn’t have blurted it out.

Seventh, and after blurting it out, he doesn’t add anything to it. France surrendering was a disaster for the British during WWII. It meant Germany was coming for them next. This would have been the time to reassure his men- and women- that although things might look grim, he was confident that high command had a plan and would have everything under control and that there was no way Germany would make it across the channel and that even if they did, the army would be ready. But no, he says nothing of the sort.

Eighth, in fact, he says nothing else to the people who had been present for his briefing at all. After Havers enters the room, he has neither eyes nor words for anyone else. Which is not professional at all.

Ninth, the way he looks at Havers throughout this scene, his face lights up, his voice cheers, his whole demeanor changes. He might have well had a neon sign glowing above his head that screamed ‘I’M GAY FOR THIS MAN!!!’ It would have been the only thing that could possibly be more obvious. When, again, being gay wasn’t okay at all in 1940’s England, and particularly not in the army. I love how incredibly unsubtle he is about his attractions while he clearly thinks he’s being subtle, but that’s not the way it would have been viewed by the people in the room.

Tenth, in his excitement, the Captain just drops the message on the floor. Drops. It. On. The. Floor. He doesn’t even bother to pick it up. Even Havers gives him a funny look for this one. I say again, I find over-excited Cap adorable. His subordinates probably find this ridiculous, though. And if this were a man who was in charge of me and he’d just been giving me a tedious lecture about not laughing at night as part of a sixteen point morning brief, I’d find him ridiculous, too. At best.

Eleventh, then he immediately scrambles to the window and looks around wildly like he expects the Germans might be marching up Button House’s driveway as they speak. Which is plain silly, as Havers has to point to him. It’s obvious to anyone with sense that even if the Germans are going to invade, it will take them a while to organize an invasion, and Button House is unlikely to be one of the early strategic targets. But the Captain seems to forget this momentarily in his excitement and ends up looking silly in front of his subordinates. I’m pretty sure a few of them are laughing at him in the back.

Twelve, the fact that the Captain is clearly ridiculously excited about this development at all is another point against him, because he shouldn’t be. Of course, he’s excited about the renewed prospect of getting a chance to actually fight (see the previous part of this analysis for why he desperately wants such a thing) but that excitement is not good look. He’s thinking about what it means to him personally, rather than what it means to the military and the country as a whole. Again, the fall of France was a disaster for Britain. It means they’ve lost all of the battles they’ve fought to try to hold back the Germans in France. It means they’ve already lost thousands of men attempting to hold back the Germans in France and for nothing. It means they’ve lost their main ally, the ally the spent years successfully holding back Germany with in France in WWI and therefore implies that this war is going to be even worse than WWI, which was already unprecedentedly catastrophic. It means they’re alone against Germany and there’s a good chance that Germany will be invading soon. So, when they get this news and the Captain’s reaction is over-excitement, that does not look good for him. Nothing in this brief looks good for him, of course, but he just keeps digging the hole deeper.

Thirteen, his officer’s bearing (which as I mentioned in an earlier post as one of the indicators before Reddy Weddy of him probably not being a very good officer, as he maintains it well in emotionally neutral situations, but once emotions enter the picture it collapses) starts out fine when he’s actually giving the brief and then goes downhill once Havers enters the room and by the time he’s at the window, his body language is just… what are you even doing? He’s practically bouncing. Also, Cap, why are you randomly shouting? And what are you doing with your hands? (I wonder if he started carrying his pointy-stick everywhere because he couldn’t figure out otherwise what to do with his hands.) Of course, all of this is because he’s a magnificent over-excitable creature, but still… not a good look as a CO.

Fourteen, when they show the rest of the personnel in the room during this part of the scene, you can see clearly on the faces of the two men in from to the left of Havers (at ‘I don’t think they’ll be here just yet, sir’) that they think the Captain’s behavior is a joke… they fix their faces back to blank very quickly, but it’s there. I imagine what most of the men under his command felt for him was either ridicule or contempt, sadly. I feel sad for him, because I want my poor gay son to be loved and respected. But he isn’t in this situation and he doesn’t seem to either notice or care about this.

Fifteen, Havers has to remind the Captain that protocol states they’re supposed to lock down the estate at this point, as the British actually were expecting the Germans to invade after France fell. He shouldn’t have had to have been prompted, particularly not in front of their subordinates.

Sixteen, Havers also has to pretend that the Captain ordered everyone else in the room to go carry out the lockdown, when he didn’t, just shouted vaguely about it being a good idea. Havers then sends them on their way, as it’s clear that in his own excitement, the Captain seems to have forgotten that he’s the one in charge and supposed to be leading and commanding. But I suppose it’s good that Havers took the initiative to get everyone else out of the room as quickly as possible, as this has been literally only like a minute of time, and I’d hate to see how much Cap could embarrass himself in two minutes.

And there it is. I made this sixteen points long as an illustration of just how ridiculously long sixteen points actually is.

I won’t cover the part where the Captain and Havers were alone at the end of this scene, yet, as I’ll include it with the next written bit, which is going to be my analysis of their relationship. That might be a minute, because we’ve reach the end of the parts I actually had significantly written out. I’ve only outlined the Havers relationship section.

#the captain #bbc's ghosts #havers #reddy weddy #the captain was terrible at being a captain #guys help i've put more effort into this analysis of a fictional character than i did for my senior thesis in university

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1dcraftawards · 3 years

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November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic !

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things. I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly, I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

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mycrofts-sword-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

The Syncode

CH. 6: Plans, Relationships and Shopping

It was nearly midnight and Mycroft was still at his desk, pouring over files and reports. Nothing of seeming importance stood out, and the search was leading nowhere. About to call it a night, his private cell rang:

Julian.

He prayed there was a lead on that end of things, and quickly answered it. Mycroft's eyes widened in disbelief as his cousin relayed the brief communique he'd received from the Cryptology department. He poured himself another scotch from the cut crystal decanter set on his desk.

"It's more than likely the scientists on that island were working on a separate project not related to the atomic testing there," Julian explained, referring to the nuclear tests conducted in the Marshall Islands at the end of WW2. "In fact," he continued, "one of them was a British - Australian. I'm sure you've heard the name: Ernest Titterton?"

"He lived until the early '90's, I believe," Mycroft said.

"Correct. He was involved in the Manhattan Project before the Americans severed their collaboration with the British Tube Alloy project," Julian replied. "After the war Titterton was selected to advise the Naval Research Laboratories in Washington, D.C. on the Operation Crossroads nuclear tests. He was asked to stay due to his expertise in timing measurements, and performed the countdown for both tests at Bikini Atoll. I believe he was also involved with the tests performed on this other island nearby."

The Australian SIS had intercepted messages between Andrena's contacts, learning of movement of her people to and from one of the Bikini Atoll islands. The two main players were the same ones in both Macau and Majuro. Julian had at once focused his research on the history of the islands, as well as the covert projects performed there that had escaped the history books. It was possible everything was tied together.

"And this other project at the Bikini Atolls had nothing to do with nuclear physics? Titterton was a nuclear physicist. Remember, it was a race against the Germans at that time to develop that technology," said Mycroft.

"From what little I can find on it, no, it had nothing to do with it. Yet Titterton worked closely with Vannevar Bush, who was also head of the U.S. Office of Scientific Research and Development and oversaw the Manhattan Project. Most likely it was in part for the war effort. The sheer isolation alone would have made the Atolls the perfect spot to conduct their experiments. Operating under the guise of the Crossroads project gave them an additional cover."

Mycroft rapidly put together all the facts, trying to find a common denominator:

Present - A lone island in the Bikini Atolls and a shadowy person named 'Andrena' who seemed to have top government connections.

Past - Operation Crossroads nuclear tests post WW2, most likely overseen in some way by Vannevar Bush, who was also the head of the Manhattan Project some years earlier. An American engineer and inventor, he had joined the Department of Electrical Engineering at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in 1919. Bush was also a science administrator, who during World War II headed the U.S. Office of Scientific Research and Development the initiation and early administration of the Manhattan Project. Emphasizing the importance of scientific research to national security, he was chiefly responsible for the creation of the National Science Foundation. It appeared Bush had his hands in a multitude of pies, and top secret ones at that. So much fell under this man's umbrella that he was more than likely indirectly involved in the Crossroads tests. Mycroft smiled. Vannevar Bush was not unlike himself, and had very much been his American counterpart, answering also to the leader of that country. And what did Titterton, a British-Australian nuclear physicist also involved in the atomic explosions have to do with this secret project at Bikini?

"Do we have any clue as to who the other four scientists were that worked on this secret project?" Mycroft asked.

"Only very few sketchy details, I'm afraid, " Julian replied. "They were masters in their fields, but none involved atomic principles. In fact, their expertise lay in electromagnetism!"

Vannevar Bush also happened to be an electrical engineer. Mycroft shook his head. Each piece of information yielded only more questions. "What could that possibly have to do with the tests conducted on those islands?" he exclaimed.

"It's a mystery, cousin," Julian answered. "All records of it have been scrubbed and destroyed. My contacts within the FBI, CIA and Research and Development have come up with nothing extra that was going on there. The only connection outside involved Titterton, who assisted in the nuclear testing in Australia later on in the fifties and the Manhattan Project earlier. Whatever this Andrena is involved in is obviously more dangerous that what we previously surmised," he concluded.

"Indeed. We were of the opinion they were involved with the Spratly islands, due to what little we could glean from the intercepted messages of their Macau contact," Mycroft sighed.

"This is much bigger and far reaching, I'm afraid," Julian said. He paused. "How is Joanne?"

Mycroft smiled. "She is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances."

"Good to hear it. I worry about that one," Julian said fondly. "It was my fault," he said, sadly shaking his head. If only he hadn't fallen for the enemy's ploy and called her..

"Possibly," Mycroft agreed, "but what's done is done. We would not have secured Soleimani had it not happened," he said pragmatically. Interrogated with the harshest of Mycroft's tactics, the Albanian had still refused to talk. Learning nothing from him, he was incarcerated in a top security institution for life.

Try as he might, Julian worried constantly about her, even though he knew she was safe with his cousins. "You saw the jewelry I sent with her?" he asked, referring to the writing inscribed inside.

"I did," answered Mycroft. "You think a great deal of this woman."

"I would trust her with my life, yes. She means a great deal to me."

"And yet you sent her to me," Mycroft stated. He had known almost instantly the reason for sending her, and no one else.

"Joanne will be good for you, cousin. Since she will be with you until this business is over, I suggest you get to know her. Take her out a bit, show her the sights. I dare say she would especially appreciate the quieter parks and countryside," Julian added.

Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "I am afraid you are mistaken, cousin mine. As you have so often told me, caring is not an advantage, especially in our family. A polite host I will be, but nothing more, I assure you. "

Julian's voice hardened immediately. "You are treating her well, I trust?"

Words lodged in his throat as Mycroft realized his cousin hadn't yet learned of the film room incident, nor that the attack at the hotel was exacerbated due to a miscalculation on his part. Most likely even his brother had thought that maximum security had been put around the hotel. Assigning only the bare minimum for protection, Mycroft was glad that Sherlock had been there - the alternative was unthinkable. He hadn't expected their adversary to consider Joanne a threat, much less even know about her.

The small pause was all it took.

A blistering tirade proceeded over the line as Julian swore up a storm, searing his cousin's ears a hot shade of pink. In no great detail, Mycroft described his embarrassing lack of oversight and severe underestimation of their enemy's resolve, as well as the scene in the film room and Joanne's calm reaction. He didn't mention the tears in her eyes.

"Bloody hell Mycroft!! I gave her my word that she would be safe you, that she could trust you!" Julian paused, catching his breath. "What were you thinking?!"

Not one to be stuck for words, Mycroft was speechless in the face of his elder cousin's anger. What could he say? Julian was right.

Julian went on. "Of course she would appear steady considering her condition, look at the practice she's had of hiding emotions all these years." The anger subsided as he realized that he had also snapped at her on occasion. "I am sorry cousin. The Holmes temper does nothing to help our relationships, does it?"

"And what exactly is your relationship with Miss Hartwell?" Mycroft asked.

"I.." It was now Julian's turn to be at a loss for words. "She is a good friend of mine, nothing more," he said, his composure and steely reserve intact once again. "I mean for you to get acquainted and become friends; and in time, possibly something more," he announced. "I am adamant on this cousin, and will hear no argument."

"And what is her opinion on the matter? Have you asked her?"

Julian sighed. "No I have not, nor do I intend to. What she thinks at the moment is of no consequence. As for the earlier incident - make it up to her. Take her out for a meal. Make her happy, Mycroft. For me. That's all I ask."

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Why is this so important to you? We do have slightly more pressing matters to hand, cousin mine. This new threat and their involvement in the Pacific islands?"

Julian wasn't to be dissuaded. "I am only looking out for your welfare and Joanne's, Mycroft, especially that of your happiness."

"I am happy enough, thank you," Mycroft replied coldly. "If Miss Hartwell is not, then I am afraid there is nothing I can do to remedy that."

"You are content enough at work, I'm sure; but I meant in all aspects of your life. Admit it cousin, you are lonely, as is Joanne. And yes, you can indeed remedy that. For the both of you."

Mycroft was more than a bit irritated that he had in fact felt an almost kindred connection with Joanne Hartwell - and something else that he didn't care to examine too closely. He'd known her only one day, after all. This wasn't something he would admit to Julian, however. Bringing the topic back to their current problem, he said "Relationships notwithstanding, I believe a trip to the Marshall Islands is in order."

There was silence as Julian considered this. Joanne would of course have to accompany them, and he said as much. After the events at the Lanesborough, there was no way she could be left alone in London. Although they had nabbed the assassin, Julian had no doubt their adversary had more lined up to finish the job.

"You do realize we would be going right into enemy territory, cousin. Andrena will no doubt have operatives waiting. Miss Hartwell will be, I believe, in even more danger there," Mycroft stated.

"She will be with yourself and Sherlock," Julian intonated. Hearing the surprised silence at the other end, he added "I recommend that your brother go along as well. Both of you will be needed on this, I'm afraid."

"And no doubt as extra protection for Miss Hartwell," replied an amused Mycroft.

"Quite so, cousin. Handpicked agents will of course be sent as a vanguard to scout for any danger before your arrival, of course," Julian said.

"Naturally, though no doubt Sherlock will beat them to it," Mycroft replied. "He does love his legwork," he said as he tried unsuccessfully to withhold a giant yawn.

"Ah, it's well after midnight there. We will continue this conversation once we have more information. In the mean time, surveillance will be maintained on the known contacts out here in the Pacific." A note of questioning disbelief crept into Julian's voice. "How the blazes can they only trace her contacts' side of the conversation?" he wondered. "They were pinned down easily enough!"

"We believe it to be some kind of new technology unknown to the government at the moment," Mycroft answered. "From the one ended dialogue we have heard so far, it would appear that she knows a great deal regarding it. They are interested in acquiring the data that was being experimented with, after all."

Something else occurred to Mycroft. "Since the only things we know of the scientists are their shared background in electromagnetics, I will conduct a search of my own in regards to this person. It is quite possible she also has a similar background."

"That make sense. Again, it depends if she is working for someone, in which case it is they who have that knowledge. Either way, it's a place to start."

They hung up, with a date set for one last communication to discuss in detail the logistics of the Holmes brother's pending trip to the Marshall Islands. It would be done entirely in Syncode, sent as Morse code in the Latin alphabet on a predetermined shortwave frequency. Both owned HAM radio receivers, and due to their positions within the government, needed no official license to operate them. This would provide extra layers of protection for communiqué between the three Holmes men, wherever they happened to be. If all went to plan, they would be on their way to the Marshall Islands in two weeks time.

***

Bright sunlight filled the room as Joanne slowly opened her eyes. The large four poster had proven quite comfortable. She realized for the first time that she'd managed to sleep the whole night without once waking up. Perhaps it was the new surroundings that did not have the memory of a traumatic event attached to it, unlike her apartment. Most nights were spent only half sleep, as though her body was determined not to shut all the way down in case another fire should break out. It didn't help that her neighbors would literally run down the stairs in the middle of the night. There were times when Joanne wanted to call out from her window and ask them this. Why did they run? Where were they going in such a hurry at that late hour? For a brief moment, Joanne wondered where she was before remembering the attack at the hotel and Mycroft's offer to bring her home, albeit temporarily while the flat next to his brother's was being prepared.

Pulling the last change of clothes from her duffel, an unpleasant thrill of anxiety raced through her. Mycroft had told her to be ready early for a shopping excursion with his assistant. A 'missed alarm' alert appeared at the top of her phone screen. Oh no. And he had given her the phone back just for that purpose with a promise not to use it to make phone calls. Not that she had anyone in her contacts list except work, her parents and the fish sitters. She was surprised no one had awakened her. The sun was already making its way toward the midmorning point in the sky. Joanne hurriedly finished dressing and made her way downstairs, pausing at the landing. Where would she find Mycroft? More than likely in his study she thought, remembering Olivia's earlier words. Apparently he never went into the kitchen. Finding the solid door shut, she gently knocked.

"Enter," came the muffled command.

She found Mycroft at his customary place behind the desk. "You're finally up," he said drily.

"I'm so sorry, Mycroft! I know you said to be up early. I didn't hear the alarm. Guess I was more tired than I thought," Joanne said sheepishly. "I'm sorry about the shopping thing.."

"Pardon? Did I say that it was canceled?" He indicated a chair in front of the desk. "It's just as well, actually. Sherlock's contact had something come up last night, and was only able to finish the security on it an hour ago. Anyway, I expect you needed the extra sleep, considering yesterday's events."

"Ah, well that's good. You said we were going to stop by his place to get it before Anthea takes me out." Just thinking of the endless hours trying on of clothes made her exhausted. She was glad for the simple leggings and t-shirt that could easily be shed in the dressing rooms.

Again, Mycroft had the uncanny habit of reading a person's micro expressions. "Have you eaten? I expect you will need your energy for it."

Joanne got up to go. "I'll have a gander in the kitchen. Maybe there's some leftovers."

"You will do no such thing," he said as she reluctantly sat back down. "I will be ready in five minutes. Do you have the phone with you?" he asked, extending a hand to retrieve it from her.

"Yeah, here," she said, handing it to him. "I did use it for reading my commentaries, though. Hey! I got your message, too - I accept your apology," she said, referring to the poem he had told her to read the night before.

Though the usual unassailable composure remained intact, she noted a faint blush to the tips of his ears. Joanne hid a smile as she looked down at her lap. It was obvious to her that this man loved, no, craved, compliments and statements of appreciation. Remembering his parent's lack of attention to him as a child, it was no wonder. She vowed to do so often. As important as Mycroft Holmes was in his work world, he was still very much undervalued as a person, especially by his family. Joanne vowed to make up for it in some way, however small.

"Yes, I thought you might discern the meaning behind it. My methods are not always understood by most people, goldfish that they are," he stated loftily.

That they are, Joanne mused. Did he not consider her a goldfish, then? It was her turn to color a light shade of pink.

"Did you read any more of the poems?" he asked. "As I said, you may borrow them from the library anytime you wish," he reminded her.

"Of course, and thank you," she said. Her dad was especially fond of poetry, though Joanne had never gotten into it. This wasn't something Mycroft needed to know, however; she wanted to build a rapport and find some kind of common ground with him. Perhaps she would browse through a few and hopefully take a liking to one of the authors. She was glad they shared an interest in film noir at least, though Joanne wasn't keen to visit that room again any time soon. "I did not read any more afterwards, I'm afraid. Strangely enough, it was in your voice that I heard the narrator! I fell asleep right after the last line."

"I am glad that my voice has an anesthetic effect on you," Mycroft stated mildly.

"Hardly. It is calming though." Joanne closed her eyes. "Very soft and soothing, and not unpleasant."

If anyone else had said this, Mycroft would have known instantly they were lying, or more likely, bribing him with flattery. Remembering the effects that audio and other stimuli had with Miss Hartwell during their first encounter, he had no doubt that she was telling the truth. A little more than his ears suffused with color as he lowered his head to study a file that lay open on the desk, hoping she didn't notice.

Joanne did, however. Her medical background had trained her to notice the slightest change in a patient, which worked for her in any situation. The extreme polarities of this man were astounding, whose character vacillated between cold, formidable and downright sinister to sweet, vulnerable and at the moment, somewhat bashful. Mycroft Holmes was like a multi faceted diamond, reflecting a full spectrum of colors from every angle. Joanne was drawn to him, and wanted to explore each plane and prism of this jewel that sat before her. She shook her head at the direction of her thoughts. Haven't had my coffee yet, she reasoned pragmatically.

She walked over to the windows that overlooked both the front and side of the house. The place is perfect for bird watching, she thought. It was a pity she would only be here one more night before moving into the flat next to Sherlock's. Shrubbery, trees and hedgerows grew in thick abundance here. Even from where she stood, Joanne could see various birds flitting in and out among them. They were different here, and there were no hummingbirds in this part of the world. Still, there were a few she could name, having watched bird cams that were scattered about England, as well as British nature shows. The Blue and Great Tits were here favorites. Sighing wistfully, she wondered what her own birds were up to.

Mycroft mistook the sound as a sigh of impatience. "In a hurry, Miss Hartwell?" he asked, looking up from the laptop.

"Huh? What do you mean?" she responded, a look of confusion on her face. Brightening, Joanne realized Julian had had a similar reaction to her body language when she was deep in thought. "No, not at all. I was just watching the birds outside, and wondering what mine are doing. They do have nice ones here, though. Your yard is perfect for it. Bird watching, I mean. Should put up a few feeders."

"Hardly. They make a mess," he said dispassionately. "The seeds would attract rodents, no doubt." Mycroft resumed his typing.

"They don't at my place. I keep it swept up. Then again, I live on the 2nd floor, so the rodents can't climb up. Did have a pesky squirrel for a while, when the old neighbors were there. They had a bamboo screen it would climb up.." She trailed off, assuming he'd stopped listening, and turned back to the windows and stuffed her hands into the large front pocket of her hoodie.

Unbeknownst to her, Mycroft heard every word, and filed away those little facts for later.

Finished, Mycroft stood up and closed the laptop. "Are you ready?"

"Yep. Going to Sherlock's first?" she asked.

"No. Since we both have not eaten yet, might I suggest a stop along the way? There is a nice little bakery that I frequent near Vauxhall in East Kensington. It is on the way to my brother's. It will have to be take away, I am afraid," he said apologetically.

"Ahh nice! I assume they have coffee? Would go great with a donut." Her stomach growled at the thought.

A pained look crossed Mycroft's face at Joanne's choice of words. "They are not donuts," he said with a sniff. "Maitre Choux serves éclairs, buns, profiteroles and other assorted pastries. Donuts, I assure you, are not one of them," he finished imperiously.

"Well, they sound good, whatever they are. Only thing I recognized were the éclairs. Love those!"

"Yes, well. Let's go, shall we? I daresay my assistant is waiting impatiently to show you the shops. She spends a great deal of time there when not on duty."

Oh no, Joanne thought. Remembering the smart outfit Anthea had worn the day prior, it stood to reason that she had an eye for tailoring, as did her employer. Unfortunately, it probably wouldn't be the grab and go kind of shopping she was used to. She hoped the coffee at that bakery was strong.

Wilson had brought the Bentley around to the front where he greeted them, opening the door for them both. He and Joanne made the usual small talk, while Mycroft made a few mundane business calls along the way. Texting a reply to his brother, he appeared withdrawn, almost apprehensive.

"What?" Joanne asked.

"Nothing really," he said vaguely. "I only ask that you not be surprised by anything you may find in my brother's flat."

"That bad? Welp, he can't be any worse than my neighbor. He's a bit of a hoarder, and not the best housekeeper."

"Sherlock's housekeeping skills are sadly lacking, yes, though that's not exactly what I meant," Mycroft said enigmatically.

Joanne's eyebrows raised in surprise, but said nothing.

Wilson soon brought the car up snugly along the curb in front of the Maitre Choux, a chic looking upscale bakery with rows of brightly colored pastries displayed in the window. Joanne had never seen them decorated in such a fancy way before. Most likely there would be sticker shock at the prices.

The Maitre Choux didn't disappoint. She couldn't afford even the cheapest offering. Not on a regular basis, anyway.

Mycroft ordered his usual. Joanne couldn't decide, and finally settled on a rich looking éclair and the strongest brew of coffee available. Mycroft of course insisted that the box looked quite empty with only the two items. He instructed the man behind the counter to fill it full. Back in the car, she had to admit it was indeed one of the best she had tasted. "Oh man! These cream puffs are awesome!" she exclaimed indelicately around a mouthful of cream.

"It is an éclair, not a cream puff, as you so eloquently put it," he said, biting fastidiously into a brightly colored cake.

"Eloquence was never one of my strong points," she retorted with a laugh, thoroughly enjoying it. "Mmmmm..."

Mycroft looked sidelong at her. "Obviously."

Though the rest of the ride was short, Joanne couldn't help but notice the poorly concealed covert glances he cast her way. "What?" she asked.

"You, have, um.." For the second time that he could remember, Mycroft was at a loss for words, and not sure what to do. He settled on taking the handkerchief from his pocket and holding it up to her.

"Oh! I have some on my face. Where is it?" she asked, dabbing everywhere and not finding it.

"Here, let me," he offered.

Joanne held still, watching wide eyed as he gently removed the bit of custard from her cheek. For one hot moment, Mycroft envisioned that it was his tongue and not the kerchief brushing the cream away. Unconsciously, he licked his lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. Shocked, he drew back as though scalded, surprised at the myriad of thoughts and images that seared his mind. A warm, though not unpleasant sensation spread throughout his lower belly and went straight to the groin. Mycroft's face burned as he looked away from her out the window in sheer embarrassment and frustration. What was it about this woman that upset and bewildered him so?

Joanne was mesmerized at the range of raw emotions that passed in rapid succession across his face. At first almost comically focused, the look on Mycroft's face as he went to remove the offending article changed abruptly into an intense, almost greedy longing as she watched the sensuous lips part, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. She wondered if he could read the same need that was reflected in her own eyes. By the way he rapidly shrank from her, it was clear that he had, and was ashamed at the brief but embarrassing lapse of control on his part.

Joanne glanced up at Wilson, who's expression remained inscrutable, his eyes straight ahead on the road. She wondered exactly how many other women had occupied the space in which she now sat. How experienced was Mycroft Holmes in romantic encounters and, dare she ask, love? A bitter wave of jealousy washed over her that she quickly quashed. It was none of her damn business, and in a few months time she would be back home, alone again with her geese. Still, the resentment lingered as she pictured Mycroft with a woman of his own class and refinement together in the back of the Bentley, sipping Dom Pérignon from the crystal champagne flutes.

Neither had a chance to speak again as they arrived just then at Sherlock's flat. Unsure of what to say, Mycroft decided it was better to move on and not bring it up. "As I mentioned earlier," he reiterated, having now fully regained his unassailable demeanor, "do not be surprised by what you may find inside."

No more surprised than by your ravenous expression just now, she thought silently.

"A dead body?" she joked instead. Anything to distract her from the memory of that penetrating gaze a moment ago.

From the solemn look he gave her, she wondered...

The stairs to Sherlock's apartment were dark and steep. Joanne made sure to hold the railing all the way up as she followed behind Mycroft. Her thoughts still on that silent but heated exchange in the Bentley, she couldn't help noting the firm outline of his posterior in the tailored pinstripe trousers. The material stretched taught around firm thighs, outlining every muscle as he climbed the steps in front of her. His light fragrance of cologne and aftershave trailed behind him, as well as the subtle scent of the man himself. It was all she could do to clear her head and face Sherlock Holmes, who stood at the top of the landing watching them both with silent bemusement. Joanne knew at once he could read the expression that was clearly written on her face; she could only imagine what his brother saw on Mycroft's.

The bare minimum of greetings were dispensed as Sherlock walked over to his laptop and resumed typing, apparently in the middle of writing an article for his blog. He noncommittally indicated the phone on the table that his brother and Joanne had come for. Mycroft at once picked it up and began ascertaining and testing the various security functions while peppering his brother with questions regarding the specs.

While they were otherwise occupied, Joanne was left to her own devices as she took in her surroundings. Mycroft was right. The place reflected an air of neglect as dust motes swirled about the room. Stacks of papers and miscellaneous objects lay scattered on the floor in old wrinkled boxes, while books and magazines sat haphazardly in their dusty bookcases. Joanne noted a scientific and yet macabre theme to the décor that lined the walls, shelves and mantle. There was no doubt that the skull perched above the fireplace was real, as were the framed insect specimens. She found the detailed prints of the plants interesting; they reminded her of those in the nearly 200 year old natural medicine books she had acquired from EBay, describing all sorts of herbs and plants, accompanied with hand painted drawings of each. Joanne smiled, thinking how much they had in common in that respect: Both were lovers of the eclectic and obscure.

"... from the ice box."

Joanne looked up from the row of books she was currently inspecting to find the Holmes brothers watching her. "What? Sorry, wasn't listening," she apologized.

Sherlock motioned impatiently towards the kitchen. "Patches. In the ice box."

Huh? What patches? Joanne looked inquiringly at Mycroft, who appeared more than a little apprehensive, though he said nothing and looked down at his feet. Ah. Another character assessment, then. Very well, she thought gamely and headed towards the fridge. She opened the top door of the unit.

A severed male head stared sightlessly out at her on it's tray between a bag of frozen tamales and a roll of sausages. Next to the latter lay the pack of nicotine patches. The head resembled an uncanny likeness to the long dead Italian opera singer. Raised in a medical family and having worked most of her adult life around gruesome sights, the surprise of finding it there was less disconcerting than the possibility of cross-contamination with the food. Still, Mycroft had warned her.

"What's Pavarotti doing in the fridge?" she asked evenly.

"I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death," replied Sherlock in a bored tone. "Who is Pavarotti?" he asked, looking up only briefly from his typing, gauging her reaction. Mycroft had put a hand over his mouth to stifle a small smile as he looked up at her. Apparently Joanne had passed the shock test.

She tossed the patches over to Sherlock. "He was an opera singer. Guy in there looks just like him. You really don't know who he was?!" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. Sherlock merely rolled his eyes as he applied a patch to his arm.

Medical curiosity won out as a thought occurred to her. "The head's in the freezer. How do you expect to get an accurate measurement if the saliva's frozen?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"As long as the mouth remains closed, the process will continue unaffected."

"You're not worried about cross-contamination? You got food in there."

"You do have a penchant for stating the obvious. Where else was I supposed to put it?"

Mycroft watched with mild amusement as the two discussed the finer points of the experiment and the intended possible outcomes. A calculating gleam appeared in his eye. Here was someone who was unfazed by Sherlock's unorthodox way of living, and in fact, seemed quite comfortable with it. He was glad she would soon be moving next door to his brother. With John gone and happily married, Miss Hartwell would be the ideal person to look out for him when Mycroft was occupied with other things. As long as they didn't become anything more than friends, that is. An unfamiliar knot of jealousy rose up from somewhere inside of him - Mycroft dismissed it as nothing more than heartburn. He glanced at his brother. Although Sherlock showed no overly friendly inclination toward her whatsoever, he had suddenly become animated as they discussed his various experiments. Joanne for her part showed only the interest of a working colleague. She appeared to be as nearly scientifically minded as Sherlock. Their heads bent over the laptop, his brother explained to her in detail the aspects of some prior experiment involving a case he had completed a week ago. Joanne listened intently, adding her input on the medical parts that she was familiar with. The dull burning flared, becoming uncomfortably acute. Although he considered himself the greater intellect over his brother, medicine was a topic that Mycroft grudgingly admitted his brother excelled at more so than he.

A forceful sigh that was half resentment, half impatience escaped him. Neither looked up from the screen. "I am sorry to interrupt your terribly engaging conversation," he said caustically, gripping hard the umbrella handle, "but I believe Miss Hartwell has somewhere else that she needs to be." His tone indicated that he wasn't sorry in the least.

Sherlock cast his brother a look of annoyance. Joanne instantly realized the source of Mycroft's irritation and felt a deep stab of guilt. The man stood off by himself near the empty fireplace, left out of their conversation, and one that Joanne had no doubt he knew little about. Engrossed as they were in the details of the case, the reason she was there had totally slipped her mind. That reason now stood across the room glaring silently at them.

Pictures from Julian's photo album flashed before her: A lonely and forgotten chubby red haired boy with freckles, yearning for his parent's attention as they coddled his baby brother. In another, it was Mycroft's fourteenth birthday, but the focus of his parents was Sherlock, who had immediately begun assembling the telescope that was his brother's present. It appeared they were encouraging him in his endless quest for knowledge. It wasn't the telescope that Mycroft dismayed over, but the love that their parents lavished instead on his brother. In yet another and possibly the saddest, the Holmes family were at the beach, where Mycroft had placed a pudgy hand on either parent's arm, silently begging to be noticed as he looked earnestly up at them. Once again, both were aware of only Sherlock as he engaged in one of his antics. Both gazed over the top of their eldest son's head, as though he weren't there at all.

And here she was, repeating the same with the adult Mycroft. She couldn't blame him for sounding rude. His expression and body language told her everything: underneath that acerbic veneer was the same lonely little boy in the photographs. As much as she was warming to Sherlock in a fraternal sort of way, Mycroft came first. Joanne wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with him. Shopping was the last thing she wanted to do.

The umbrella tapped impatiently on the hardwood floor.

Finished with the laptop, Sherlock stood up. "Take a look at my blog sometime," he said as he flopped down lazily on the couch. "Bored," he murmured.

Mycroft showed no pity for his brother as he looked pointedly at Joanne. "Let's go. Anthea's waiting for us next door."

Joanne cast one last look at Sherlock, who had petulantly turned on his side toward the wall , ignoring them both. It seemed his childhood habits had not entirely disappeared. Smiling, she followed Mycroft back down the stairs who took them two at a time, anxious to be out of his brother's apartment.

Outside, they turned and entered an almost identical entrance right beside Sherlock's. The numbers above this door read 223B. Apparently they were on the odd numbered side of the street which seemed fitting, somehow. This time, it was Mycroft who ushered Joanne up the stairs as he followed closely behind. She had no doubt he was probably ogling her backside in the same way she had his. Joanne was thankful for the miles put in around the large neighborhood block and park. Though she couldn't say the same about her large chest and not so firm belly, the legs were possibly her best attribute.

Following close behind, Mycroft agreed as he appreciated the long supple limbs encased in the tight cotton material in front of him. Every detail of each movement was outlined as his eyes traveled from the slender calves to the shapely but well defined muscle of her thighs. Her bottom was no less appealing, as were the soft curves of her hips which deepened at the waist. Mycroft inhaled the lingering scent of her jasmine soap, resolving to ask her later about the brand and where she had procured it. A sudden image of them engaged in the shower surrounded by that scent rose unbidden in his minds eye. It wasn't altogether unpleasant.

On reaching the landing, Mycroft opened the already unlocked door. "This will be your new 'home from home', as it were. There are of course a few minor details to attend to, and it should be ready within two days."

Anthea rose from the couch with her ever present blackberry. "Have a look around," she said. "It's amazing what they have done with the place in so short a time."

They quickly toured the rooms. Joanne wasn't sure what details Mycroft was referring to. The flat looked ready to move in as it was. Possibly the only jarring thing was the unsightly garden area just outside the French doors of the bedroom; it looked more like a vacant lot. No matter, as she had spotted a garden center only a few blocks down the street on the drive over. It would give her something to do, at any rate. She looked forward to adding bird feeders and houses. Possibly even a fountain bath. Remembering his earlier distaste of the things, Joanne didn't mention this to Mycroft. In a large city like this, she had no doubt there would be rodents, and not the grey, fuzzy tailed kind. She'd just have to make sure to keep the space below the feeders swept more frequently than was done at home.

Anthea was finishing up a text as they came down the stairs. "Ready?" she asked as they headed back outside. No doubt she had more important things to do than take Jo shopping. She and her employer had a country to run, after all.

Mycroft walked toward the Jag that was parked behind the Bentley as Anthea climbed into the latter. "Don't have too much fun, now," Mycroft said as the suited driver closed the door behind him.

Still feeling bad for neglecting him at Sherlock's, Joanne walked over to his door. The tinted window rolled down. "Yes?"

"Mycroft," she began. An apology had been on the tip of her tongue, but looking into those questioning, clear blue eyes wiped her mind completely blank. "I just want to say thank you. For everything."

The fair brows shot up in mild surprise. "Whatever for? As I stated earlier, the British government and our nation are deeply indebted to you. It is a mere formality, and I daresay, a necessity," he said, taking in her faded hoodie and worn sneakers with a critical eye. "Now. Off with you!" he said gruffly as the window rolled silently back up.

Joanne caught the hint of a smile as he looked away, as well as a light flush around the tips of his ears. She watched her reflection move across the dark, highly polished window as the Jag pulled away from the curb and carried him away, most likely back to Whitehall.

"Where to, ladies?" Wilson asked as Joanne climbed in beside Anthea.

It was Anthea who answered. "The Burlington Arcade, please," she said excitedly. Gone was the demure professional agent/assistant. Instead, a new sparkle appeared in Anthea's eyes as she excitedly began describing the various boutiques there. This was a side of her that only close friends and family got to see. It was clear Anthea had planned their excursion down to the last detail as she ticked off on her fingers a list of each shop they would visit, with a break somewhere in between for lunch, or possibly dinner depending on when they finished. It was obvious from her exuberance that she rarely had the time to get out and do this. Most likely Anthea ordered her things online. To get out and about like this with another woman was probably quite a treat for her, Joanne thought. .

The streets were bumper to bumper with traffic, as were the sidewalks with pedestrians jostling each other for the limited space. "I hope there's no long lines at the stores," Joanne said doubtfully as she observed a few store fronts that indeed had customers trailing out their doors.

Anthea smiled almost gleefully. "I don't think that will be a problem. We are to meet the Head Beadle, Mark Lord in front of the Arcade. It has been arranged for him to accompany us for any questions you may have."

"Beetle?!" Joanne exclaimed. "Can't wait to hear the history behind that one!"

Anthea laughed, which sounded like the tinkling of little golden bells. It was the first time that Joanne could recall her doing so since they'd met the previous day.

"Beadle!" she said, still giggling. "The Beadles are a police force. In fact, they are the smallest in the world! I will let Mr. Lord explain all of the history. It really is quite fascinating. Ah! Here we are."

The Bentley pulled up in front of a large stone building with a long open hall traversing the length of it. Sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling supported by steel girders. Shops and boutiques lined both sides with a red carpet laid out along the entire length. This brought back the memory of the small red carpet at the foot of Julian's Gulfstream back in Washington. She wondered if this was just a coincidence. Although somewhat modernized, it retained most of its Victorian air - it was like stepping back in time. A tall portly man dressed in Victorian guardsman attire stood at the entrance beside a wrought iron gate. Smiling jovially, he beckoned them inside.

The first thing Joanne realized immediately was the absence of shoppers. It appeared totally deserted save for the staff in front of their shops and some serious looking security. They had the entire arcade to themselves.

Again she was reminded of Julian, how on their first outing he had made sure that the entire section of the upstairs floor of the restaurant was empty so that they could speak in private. This was obviously Mycroft's doing judging by the extra police that were present. These were not the Victorian dressed beadles, but armed formidable looking military type, as well as a few plain clothes secret servicemen. It appeared that he was taking the threat to her safety seriously now, though Joanne thought it was a bit over the top. Anthea had been right - there was no need to worry about lines, or 'queues' as the English called it.

He enthusiastically waved a uniformed arm toward the long hall. "Come in, come in!"

Joanne looked from the man to Anthea who followed a step behind her. "How did Mycroft manage to clear out the public? This must be costing the shop owners big time."

Anthea smiled knowingly. "He has his ways. They are well compensated, I am told. But you're right. Our time is limited to three hours, though I think we can finish well before then. The arcade is merely our first stop." Anthea looked more than enthusiastic about this.

Joanne groaned inwardly and wondered how they would make it out of this huge place in under three hours. It would take that long just trying on each outfit.

Before they got down to business, Mr. Lord gave them a quick tour as they walked, explaining the history of the place. No doubt Anthea was more than familiar with every shop they passed. Joanne figured this was Mycroft's way of introducing her to the city that was so close to his heart. Her ears perked up when the Head Beadle mentioned the threat of crime.

"In the late 1800s, however, the Beadles were in a constant battle against ne'er do wells. This is why whistling is banned from the arcade – because it was used as code between pickpockets."

This was good to know, she thought. It was probably still true out on the streets.

"Clucking is also disallowed," he continued, "after prostitutes rented the rooms overhead and used the sound as they waved red handkerchiefs to attract the attention of men below. Singing, or any kind of 'merriment' – that is, drunkenness – was and still is a definite no-no."

Joanne grinned. "Wow. Sounds like a colorful history for sure!"

Mr. Lord rattled off other various tidbits regarding the arcade: "Notice the marble floor has a slight incline - this was so the ladies didn't need to raise their long skirts. And did you know that hurrying, opening umbrellas and singing are banned? Officially, the only person allowed to whistle in the arcade is Sir Paul McCartney!"

Anthea reluctantly apologized for the short time they would have to spend here. "Unfortunately, there are a few other places that we need to stop at. However, I promise you we will enjoy every minute of our stay here!" Anthea made good on that promise, as she purchased several items for herself, as well. The jolly man beamed.

It turned out that Mycroft had sent Joanne's measurements to the managers of select shops at both the arcade and the other department stores they would be visiting that day, saving them the time of having her try on each garment. Like his cousin, he had somehow judged her numbers exactly. How did they do that? Joanne silently shook her head, not sure she really wanted to know.

Luckily, there was no need to browse each shop. Anthea had a predetermined list of them that she meticulously checked off once they had left. All Joanne had to do was select the piece of clothing or outfit that appealed to her, and it was a done deal. If she liked something that they did not have in her size, it was ordered and would be sent directly to Mycroft's home. She tried to find only the cheapest, but like the pastries at the Maitre Choux, even the least expensive item would break her bank. It wasn't that she couldn't afford one or two good shirts, having built up a small nest egg over the years. Joanne just didn't see the point of spending in what she thought was a reckless manner. It was too much. She was glad Anthea allowed her to buy multiple mix and match items to cut down on the overall cost, though it wasn't by much.

Even though she wasn't allowed to pay for anything, it still went against the grain. Only a few outfits were needed for her extended stay here, but it felt like she was purchasing a wardrobe for the entire year. It was early summer, but Anthea had her buying winter clothes as well.

"Did Mycroft tell you to get me a whole years worth of clothes?!" Joanne asked, shaking her head at the prices. Even the cheapest piece was in the triple digits. She couldn't imagine this kind of lifestyle on a daily basis, and more than felt like Julia Robert's character in 'Pretty Woman'.

"He told me to use my judgment, so naturally I calculated for your stay here in the foreseeable future. Oh, we can't forget the accoutrements, can we?" she said, heading over to the jewelers across the plaza.

"No! Anthea, I'm serious. No jewelry. His cousin Julian got me an entire set from Cartier. Anyway, I don't wear the stuff. I hate things around my neck. I'm sorry, I have to put my foot down on this one."

She looked about to argue, but changed her mind at the look of determination set on Joanne's face. "My employer will be most displeased."

"I'm sorry about that, but I can't. If he wants me to wear anything like that, it will have to be what I already have." Joanne shook her head. "Clothes are one thing, but that.. uh uh."

Changing tactics, Anthea led her over to the perfumeries. This was more doable, Joanne thought. Perfume and scented soaps were her particular weakness. Though she tried to be careful and buy only a couple, Anthea insisted on selecting more than she would ever use in a year. They were only finishing up at the arcade, and still had more to go.

Meeting Wilson outside in the Bentley, Anthea directed him to various other shops and department stores. At times, she would look around while the sales staff were busy with Joanne and acquire a few more pieces for herself. Anthea couldn't remember having this much fun in a long time. It was refreshing.

They had a quick lunch at a small but pricey café in Mayfair. Joanne was beginning to have a fondness for the little finger sandwiches. Although small, they really were quite filling.

The next stop was The Royal Exchange, where Anthea encouraged Joanne to purchase even more scents and soaps, among other things.

Joanne was shocked when she was led to the lingerie department at Harrods's.

What on earth would she need that for?

Anthea smiled. "You never know," she said elusively as she picked out a few risqué numbers for Joanne.

"Anthea! I can't wear those!"

"Of course you can. See, she has your exact size!" Anthea said, indicating the staffer who was helping them.

"Wait. I understand that Mycroft gave my measurements to the managers of the shop's we went to. He sent them to the lingerie department as well??" Joanne blushed a furious red.

Anthea smirked. "Oh no, that was me! Mr. Holmes wouldn't know anything about these particular kinds of garments."

"Dark colors look good on you," said the floor assistant who held up striking blue silk piece edged in black lace. It was followed by a similar one in red. Other more modest nightwear and underthings were also purchased.

The Royal Exchange was the last stop, and had also been temporarily emptied of customers. Unlike Harrods's which had been crowded with people Anthea explained, these type of open spaces like the arcade were not as densely packed, and therefore made it easier for a shooter. Joanne noted the same amount of security here, too.

More accessories and shoes were purchased at a leather shop, including a new wallet to replace her tattered one and a few leather handbags at Anthea's prodding. Joanne didn't tell her that she would more than likely stick with her backpack when not wearing the trendy clothes. Leggings and a T-shirt were more her style, as she preferred comfort over fashion. While Anthea examined the leather belts a few shelves away, a pair of calf length Italian suede boots caught Joanne's eye, which she immediately put back on seeing the price. Nearly 2,000 pounds! For one pair of shoes!

It was only when she unpacked everything back at Mycroft's that she found them in the bag. Who knew Anthea could be so sneaky?! The sharp eyed agent missed nothing.

One boutique owner had made ready a small table with champagne and pretty little cakes in their honor. Joanne felt like royalty indeed, and wondered what Mycroft must have told them to cause this kind of deferential treatment. He had either threatened or paid them well. Joanne suspected a combination of both.

A knife lay beside the plate. Why on earth would anyone use a knife for a little thing like this? Each one was barely the size of her palm. Picking one up, Joanne was about to bite into it, when Anthea lightly slapped her hand, causing her to drop it.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?!" For a brief moment, she wondered if the cake was poisoned in a way only Anthea could see.

"No. That is not how tarts are eaten in public. Use the knife," Anthea said as she demonstrated cutting her own into four sections.

The pieces barely fit on the fork, Joanne thought. "Really? They're tiny! Why not?"

Anthea delicately nibbled the nearly invisible morsel. "This is London, dear. What you do inside the home is one thing. When you are out in public, one uses utensils, no matter the size of the food."

A small frown appeared between Joanne's brows. "Was this yours or Mycroft's idea? This is a lesson in etiquette, isn't it?"

"You catch on fast. I understand what my employer sees in you" she said, taking a sip of champagne. "You're in our world now, so I suggest you get well used to it," she said as the Blackberry buzzed.

Jo sat back and resumed cutting the micro cakes. "Well, when in Rome I guess. But if it were up to me, I'd hold the dang things! Much easier, and faster."

Anthea looked up from the phone. "There is one more stop we need to make before I take you back to Mr. Holmes."

The look on her face didn't bode well for Joanne. "Where to?"

"I've just been informed you will be in need of clothes more suited to a tropical climate," Anthea said, reading the rest of the message on the Blackberry. A mix of fear and disbelief furrowed her brow.

"The timetable has been moved up. It appears you will be on your way to the Pacific Islands before the end of the week."

#fanfic #bbc sherlock #Mycroft Holmes

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pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Professor Solas/Lavellan: First Impressions

Chap 1 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted! In which Nare Lavellan has a chance run-in, literally.

Beautiful art by Nare’s creator, @elbenherzart!

~2400 words; read on AO3 instead.

- NARE -

Nare swept her hair into a tidy ponytail, then gave her face one last critical look before stepping out of her bedroom. She tapped lightly on the closed bedroom door across from her own. “Tamaris?” she called. “Are you–”

“I’m coming,” Tamaris grunted. “Give me two fucking minutes.”

Nare smirked at Tamaris’s customary early-morning surliness, then padded quietly down the hall to the living room. Athera was waiting pertly on the couch with a half-finished cup of tea in her hands, and she grinned at Nare as she approached.

“She’s awake, at least?” Athera asked.

“Awake enough,” Nare said drolly. She sat next to Athera and tucked her legs up on the couch. “Are you nervous about your first day?”

Athera laughed. “Me? Nervous? Of course not! Just a normal first day doing this job for the first time in the only Ancient Elvhen Studies program in the entire country. What’s to be nervous about?”

Nare sympathetically eyed her friend’s bright smile. She didn’t blame Athera for being nervous. Athera had been looking for a research coordinator position for years. Her new job at the University of Orlais was well-earned, in Nare’s opinion, and it was just a stroke of happy fortune that Athera was starting her job at the same time that Nare was starting her Master’s of fine arts with U of O’s prestigious — and infamous — Ancient Elvhen Studies program.

It was also serendipitous that Tamaris had decided she wanted a change of pace and place, resulting in the three girls splitting the rent on a cozy three-bedroom-plus-studio apartment close to the university.

“Don’t be nervous,” Nare said warmly. “It’s going to be great! By the end of the week, the director will be wondering how they lived without you making the whole lab twice as efficient.”

Athera grimaced and ran a hand through her hair long chestnut hair. “I don’t know. Professor Abelas did not sound that impressed with my lack of experience during the phone interview. I’m still surprised I got the job.”

“He probably thinks he can train you up fresh since you’re so-called ‘inexperienced’,” Nare said knowingly. “He’ll see how good you are in two seconds. I’m sure of it.”

Athera smiled at her. “Aw, you’re sweet. I bet you’re going to impress your new supervisor just as much when you meet with him tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” Nare said. But her belly jolted at the mention of Solas.

Professor Solas, she reminded herself. Just because she had a crush on her new supervisor’s voice didn’t mean she could start thinking of him in an informal way before they’d even met.

Oh, but he had such a gorgeous voice. The majority of her communication with Professor Solas had been via email, but the one time they’d spoken on the phone… Fenedhis, Nare couldn’t get it out of her mind. His voice was smooth and mild like a hot vanilla latte, with a curl of an Elvhen accent that made something shiver in her belly in a very visceral way. She was still surprised that she’d managed to keep her calm and sound like a reasonable and intelligent person after hearing Professor Solas’s first few words floating into her ear through the phone.

And that was just from hearing him talk about the Elvhen art stream of the program and the opportunities for exhibiting her work in the galleries in Val Royeaux. Imagine if he ever spoke to her in that beautiful smooth voice about other, less professional things…

Stop it, she scolded herself silently. She was being so stupid and horny, developing a crush on a man purely for his voice. Well, not just his voice: he was incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, and strong-willed to the point of stubborn as well, if his academic position papers were anything to go by. But if Nare was being honest, his intelligence wasn’t the main thing that had been keeping her up at night for the past couple of months since she and Solas had last spoken on the phone.

It was stupid to be thinking such carnal things about his voice, though. She didn’t even know what he looked like — not for a lack of trying to find out, if she was perfectly honest. She’d searched online for a photo of her soon-to-be supervisor, but he didn’t have a faculty photo anywhere on the U of O website, and a Google search had been shockingly unhelpful, leaving Nare with only a blank slate to imagine along with that knicker-melting voice.

“Nare, you okay?” Athera said.

Nare jolted slightly, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Athera gave her a shrewd look. “Something tells me I’m not the only one who’s nervous.”

“I thought you weren’t nervous,” Nare teased.

Athera grinned, but Tamaris’s grumpy voice interrupted before Athera could reply. “You guys have nothing to be nervous about. You’re going to impress the shit out of everyone. Now let’s go get some coffee already.” She wandered over to the door and started jamming her feet into her scuffed black motorcycle boots.

Nare exchanged a smirk with Athera, then popped up from the couch. “Good morning, lethallan,” she crooned.

Athera giggled and hugged Tamaris’s arm. “Good morning,” she sing-songed.

Tamaris groaned. “Fuck off, both of you. I’m only awake this early because I have a client in an hour.”

“Wait, is it already nine?” Athera said in alarm. She checked her watch, then squeaked. “Oh shoot! Oh shoot, I’m supposed to meet Abelas at the office in fifteen minutes!” She shoved her feet onto a pair of flats and grabbed her bag, then flung open the door. “Bye! Have a good one!” she yelled, and she bolted down the stairs.

Nare smiled at Tamaris. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Lucky you,” Tamaris drawled. “You get to suffer my morning-gremlin attitude all alone.”

Nare chuckled, and they made their way down the stairs at a more measured pace and wandered toward their favourite café at the end of the block.

It was a perfect crisp early-September day. The sun was a lovely warm wash of light, and the air was fresh and cool without being cold. The leaves hadn’t started changing colours yet, but the quality of their verdancy was starting to shift from the lush springlike undertones of blue to the more autumn-like undertones of yellow. When Nare pointed this out to Tamaris, Tamaris huffed in amusement.

“That’s such an artist-y thing to say,” she said.

Nare gave her a chiding look. “You say that like you aren’t an artist yourself.” She pointedly eyed the delicate vallaslin that curled around Tamaris’s left eye — vallaslin that Tamaris had carefully tapped into her own skin, and the same skills which had imbued Nare and Athera with their vallaslin as well.

“I don’t often work with colour, though,” Tamaris said.

“Isn’t your client this morning for a coloured tattoo?”

“Yeah, but that’s different than painting,” Tamaris pointed out.

“Your tattoo work is amazing, though,” Nare said.

Tamaris smirked. “Fine. We’re both amazing artists with mind-blowing skills. Are you going to buy my coffee for me because I’m so awesome?”

“I’m the student here,” Nare said with a grin. “You should be buying me coffee.”

Tamaris tsked. “Fine. Just this once though, you leech.” She pulled open the café door and gestured sarcastically for Nare to enter before her.

Nare chuckled and slid into the café. They placed their orders together, then sat at a sunny table to enjoy their coffee and fresh scones — vegan blueberry for Nare, and lemon-glazed for Tamaris.

Nare took the lid off of her cup and blew on her coffee. “So you’re coming to the start-of-year mixer tonight, right?”

Tamaris slumped in her seat and shoved a hand through her lush midnight curls. “Explain again why you want me to come to this mixer thing. I’m not a student.”

“It doesn’t matter that you’re not a student,” Nare said. In truth, she just wanted to get Tamaris out of the apartment before she started forming roots.

“It kind of does,” Tamaris said flatly. “It’s happening at the campus bar.”

“Lots of non-students go to the campus bar,” Nare pointed out. “It’s a nice bar.”

Tamaris grunted. Nare leaned toward her slightly. “Come on, Tam,” she wheedled. “Come to the mixer. Athera’s coming.”

“She works at the university now,” Tamaris pointed out. “It makes sense for her to go.”

Nare wilted. “What else are you going to do if you stay home?”

Tamaris’s reply was prompt. “I’ll rewatch The Archdemon Rises 3 for the fifth time and paint my nails.”

Nare declined to mention that Tamaris’s eggplant-purple manicure was still intact since she’d last done her nails two days ago. Instead, she widened her eyes pleadingly. “Please come? We’ll make a girls’ night of it. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Tamaris eyed her stonily for a moment, then sighed. “Ugh, you and your baby blues. Fine, I’ll come.”

Nare beamed at her and took a bite of her scone. A leisurely half-hour later, they stepped out of the café.

Tamaris stretched her arms over her head. “All right, I’m headed home,” she said with a yawn. “You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow so we can go to that museum exhibit together?”

Nare shook her head. “I want to see it before my meeting with my supervisor tomorrow.”

Tamaris smirked. “Hoping to impress him with your up-to-date knowledge of the local art scene, huh?”

Nare poked her playfully. “Yes, okay? I want to make a good first impression.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tamaris said. “You always make a good first impression.”

Tamaris’s tone was dry, and Nare gazed fondly at her seemingly standoffish friend. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’ll see you later.”

Tamaris nodded and headed back to the apartment, and Nare turned in the opposite direction toward the modern art museum. She pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped open her browser to check the price of tickets for the special neo-Avvar exhibit; she was fairly sure she’d get a discounted admission with her student ID, but some of the museum’s special exhibits were even free for students, and Nare couldn’t remember if—

She suddenly slammed right into someone.

She stumbled back, then squeaked in alarm as she tripped over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. Her phone dropped from her fingers, and she grabbed for it even as she tried to find her footing, oh no oh shit she was going to fall down–

A strong pair of hands grabbed her arms, and Nare gasped as she regained her balance. “Shit,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry, I – my phone, I was distracted…”

“The fault is mine. I apologize.”

A heated ripple of recognition spilled down her spine. That voice. She knew that voice. She’d been replaying that voice in her head for months and wondering what the person who owned that voice looked like: how tall he was, how big his hands were, what his lips looked like shaped around the liquids vowels of that divine Arlathani accent…

Lightheaded with disbelief, her heart in her throat, Nare lifted her eyes to his face.

Her breath left her in a punch of shock. Gorgeous. He was gorgeous. An impeccably shaven head, a mere hint of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes which put him somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s, lush lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, a delicate divot in his chin and a jawline sharp enough to cut, and his eyes…

His eyes were perfectly lucid, a perfect quixotic blend of light grey and pale blue that Nare couldn’t quite name, and they were so warm. His eyebrows were creased with a hint of concern, and when the crease in his brow deepened, she realized that she was staring.

“Are you all right?” Professor Solas said.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Which was a good thing, because the only words Nare could think were you are fucking hot.

She nodded dumbly. A tiny hint of a smile curled the left corner of his lips, and he released her arms. “I apologize for the collision,” he said, and he crouched down to pick up his book and her phone. “I should know better than to read and walk at the same time.”

Nare watched stupidly as he rose to his full height. Fenedhis, he was tall.

He held out her phone, and Nare carefully studied his face. There was no recognition there. There was warmth in his handsome face, but no recognition. He didn’t know who she was.

Not that she would necessarily expect him to, since he was a professional and an intellectual, and professional intellectuals probably didn’t online-stalk their new grad students to find out what they looked like.

She took her phone with trembling fingers and swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You are not hurt, I hope?”

Ugh, he was so good-looking. Why did her supervisor have to be her exact ideal physical type?

She dropped his gaze and tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear. “I — no. I’m fine,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Good,” he said. “And again, I apologize for the collision.”

She shrugged and tried to nod at the same time, then wanted to smack herself for being so fucking awkward.

“Take care,” he said. A moment later, he was walking away from her.

She finally dragged in a breath and watched greedily as Professor Solas walked away. For someone who had such a mild voice and such kind eyes, his gait was certainly confident.

Confident and sexy.

Nare blew out a breath and forced herself to turn away. She was shaking. Why was she shaking? Why was her heart beating so hard, not just in her chest but in her entire body?

Why was her mind completely taken over by the thought of Professor Solas stretching her naked body out on a desk, those warm grey-blue eyes scanning her from head to toe before he taught her all kinds of torrid lessons that she would never forget?

Fuck, she thought desperately. I am in so much trouble.

#solas #solavellan #solas fic #professor solas #professor solas au #pikapeppa writes #elbenherzart

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