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galadrieljones · 5 years

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The Lily Farm - Chapter 24

Formerly A Funeral.

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Existential Angst, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nature, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Arthur to the Rescue, Forests, Abduction, Angst, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Content, Sexual Themes, Adult Content, Canon Divergence, Found Families, Brotherhood, Fatherhood, pregnancy, Drug Use, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Protective Arthur, Minor John Marston/Abigail Roberts

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and in their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big, all of which bring them closer to one another, as well as to their future. But they’ve fallen in love during hard times. With the gang tipping dangerously close to a breaking point in a changing world, Arthur must make a difficult choice. Can he escape the past, as well as the outlaw life and start over, building a family of his own? With Mary Beth by his side, one thing is certain: redemption and second chances finally seem within his grasp.

***For the rest of this story, you can visit the masterpost or AO3, both linked in the replies to this post and also at my blog ^_^***

Chapter 24: The Heartlands

In any case, I have grown tired in ways I cannot rightly explain.

I’m not sure what might have happened to Kieran. Most likely, he ended up out on a fishing trip, or a gallavant that simply extended beyond his original intentions. Diana could have spooked and tossed his ass and hightailed it back to camp without him. It could be anything. Mary Beth wants to come along and I had no choice but to let her. I ain’t her father. And I know she can do okay in a whole host of situations, but if it comes to shooting I don’t know. She may be a damn good conwoman and a savvy pickpocket, but she ain’t no killer. I love her. I’d do anything to keep her safe, and in any case, I guess I’m just afraid. I can’t shake that part of myself. I fear it will always be there—after everything. She knows it. I just don’t know how to protect her and how to keep making this life work no more. And Jesus Christ I have been so careless. We’ve been. Careless. I don’t know why. It just feels right, letting go inside her like nature running its course, like the way it’s supposed to be but shit. If she gets pregnant while we’re still here, toiling in this war of ours…I’m right terrified. I don’t know what to do. I should’ve said no to Dutch, and yet, I did not. Hosea was right, as usual. I need to use my goddam head.

I just always want to believe. I’ve been so blinded by my desire to just…please Dutch. It ain’t fair no more. I’m still out on this limb, and now Mary Beth is out here with me. And if we keep making it like we do, soon it’ll be an innocent among us and I ain’t letting no more of my own blood spill into the earth. I ain’t doing that. Not again.

Dutch thinks we can get money out of this Bronte fellow. He talked to me about it last night, after that fool’s party we attended. Something about a trolley station. A poker game on a goddam river boat. I see things differently, and Mary Beth confirmed my suspicions. Of course, she did it with intelligence and grace, whereas my thoughts tend to come out as gravy these days. Mary Beth was a sight to see with Bronte. Once again she’s proven she’s too good for me, and yet here we are. We’re getting married. Still ain’t told no one—not sure why. It just don’t feel right yet to make a big deal. But I do know that it ain’t like last time. It ain’t Mary. Mary could not commit to huge parts of me, my life. With her, I was a fool. But Mary Beth’s love for me feels…honest. It’s for the right reasons. She is loyal to me. I don’t know what I have done to deserve this bounty she brings, but I ain’t letting it get away.

We are setting out to find the O’Driscoll boy as soon as this storm clears. It rains so goddam much down in this hellhole state I have forgotten what season it is. It’s perpetually the hottest it’s ever been, and I will say, I miss the fresh air to the north. She does, too.

They rode out of Shady Belle at about four o’clock. It was later than Arthur had hoped for, as this meant they would most definitely be gone into the night, but putting things off would have been worse. The rain had brought a chill to the air that made everybody uncomfortable. It was a damp chill. Mary Beth wore a brown leather scout jacket with an ornamental purple tether around the waist. It had a hood, which she kept fashioned over her tightly braided hair. Arthur outfitted her with that same shotgun from their trip to the north and a whole shitload of slugs. She wanted the gun, and it was the right choice. But once again he told her: “Do not use that gun unless you absolutely must. Understood?” by which he meant: “Do not use that gun unless you have reason to believe that I have died or will soon be dead and cannot defend you no more. Understood?”

Charles led the way to Rhodes. It was easy business, tracking Kieran at first. The clouds had gone on and most of the the townspeople were back outside and about their business. It looked like a big wind had come in and blown over a carriage full of feed corn right outside the train station. A couple of working boys were hustling to pick it all up, but the axel on their carriage was broken, and the the job looked too big for just the two of them. Arthur and Charles gave them a hand while Mary Beth went to the saloon to inquire upon whether anyone had seen a young man fitting Kieran’s description.

“He’s got long brown hair, to his shoulders,” she said, “a little scraggly, about this tall, has a scratchy voice. He would have been wearing a straw type hat, cowboy boots, dressed like a rancher, riding an Ardennes. He’s twenty years old.”

“May I inquire upon how you know the young man?”

“He’s my brother, sir. Been missing from our ranch in Scarlet Meadows for three days. Mama and I can’t make ends meet without him.”

The bartender was taken with Mary Beth. He did not even require payment for his information as he wiped down a glass with his linen towel. “I think I seen a boy like that,” he said, leaning in on his elbow. “Was in here two nights ago, waiting out the storm. Sat by himself, caused no trouble. Ordered a glass of milk.”

"That’s him,” she said. “Did he say anything about where he was headed?”

“No, ma’am,” said the bartender, topping off her glass of rose. “But toward the end of the night, a couple boys crowded him in the booth, right over there. They all left together. It was sudden.”

This was alarming to Mary Beth. “Do you know who they was?”

“Didn’t talk like they was from around here,” said the bartender. “Yankees. I heard one of them mention that they was headed in from Riggs Station, way out in West Elizabeth, if that helps.”

“It does,” said Mary Beth. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much.” She finished her wine and left a generous tip. He tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted. She then went to wait for the boys in a booth at the front of the saloon. It took about ten minutes before they arrived, and she told them all about her findings.

“He said it was Yankees?” said Arthur, smoking, sitting next to her, wearing his hat with the pretty brown feather.

“Yes,” she said. “Said they crowded him and left all of a sudden.”

Arthur glanced across the table to Charles who became apprehensive.

“You think it’s O’Driscolls?” said Arthur.

“Sounds about right,” said Charles.

“What would they doing in Lemoyne?”

“Could be they tracked us here, after that nasty shootout with the Grays, then ran into Kieran by mistake, maybe took advantage of an unlucky circumstance.”

Arthur swore under his breath, looked around, smoked. Then he looked back at Mary Beth. “Mary Beth, I think Charles and I ought to finish this one alone.”

“What?” she said. “No. I got the information. I’m coming.”

“It ain’t safe,” he said. “I’ll ride with you back to camp.”

“How do you know it ain’t safe?”

“Because I just do,” he said. “I got a bad feeling. And my bad feelings got a bad habit of coming true.”

“He’s right, Mary Beth,” said Charles. “If it is O’Driscolls, there is bound to be bloodshed.”

"I ain’t scared,” said Mary Beth.

Arthur shook his head, serious. “Please,” he said. “This ain’t for you. Let me take you back.”

She stared at him in defiance. “You know what else ain’t for me?” she said. “Hitting a man over the head with a frying pan, saving your life. Or getting carried off by Murfree Brood in a thunderstorm. Or shooting a wolf mother in the face.”

Arthur sighed.

“What’s she talking about?” said Charles.

Arthur ignored him. “You near on shot me with that gun of yours in a panic,” he said to Mary Beth. “You’ll be in danger. These boys, they ain’t no turtles in the marsh.”

“Oh please. I didn’t shoot you,” she said. “I listened to you. Granted it took me a moment. But I can listen.”

Arthur shook his head. He didn’t mean to, but all this made her feel small. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Please, Arthur. I can’t sit back at Shady Belle, just waiting on you. I can’t. Don’t make me.”

There was a commotion then, as two people walked into the saloon, coming through the doors with gusto. At first, Arthur didn’t know what was going on, but then he recognized their faces right quick. “What the hell?”

“Dutch and Sadie?” said Mary Beth standing up to see. “What are they doing here?”

“Only the lord knows,” said Arthur, getting up to tip his hat and address them. “To what do we owe this fine pleasure?”

“Sit down, Arthur,” said Dutch, pushing in next to Charles. He was looking serious. “We need to talk.”

Arthur glanced at Mary Beth. She was apprehensive. A hush came on down between them all like a big old curtain. Then Arthur looked at Charles who had stuffed a fat wad of dipping tobacco into his lower lip, and he was spitting said dip into a wine glass, and he shrugged.

“What’s going on?” said Arthur. He pulled up a chair. Sadie gave him a polite but serious nod and sat down in the booth next to Mary Beth. She was wearing a tough yellow blouse that made her look like a cowgirl.

“Sadie here tells me that Diana showed up at camp this afternoon without her rider,” said Dutch, real quiet.

“That’s right,” said Arthur, lighting a cigarette. “Kieran’s missing.”

“How long.”

“He went missing a few days back,” said Arthur. “Day of the storm. We’ve tracked him through here, all the way out to West Elizabeth—near Riggs Station. Mary Beth here got the information. We think it’s probably O’Driscolls.”

“Good work, Miss Gaskill,” said Dutch, nodding. This made her feel tremendous pride. “And, Arthur, it is O’Driscolls, but it ain’t just O’Driscolls, boy, and that is the reason we are here.”

Arthur smoked. “I don’t catch your meaning.”

“It’s Colm.”

Everybody straightened up. Dutch had his whole, massive hands splayed out on the surface of the table in front of him. The room became heavy and distant all around them. Dutch had a way of doing this, making any and every space into his own.

“Colm himself?” said Arthur, shifting in his seat. “How do you figure that?”

“Because,” said Dutch, staring down at those hands. “The last time a horse showed up to my camp without its rider, it was in Denver, Colorado, and it was Annabelle’s.” Then he looked up at Mary Beth, looking sad in the low light from the saloon. It was a strange sight to see. “A pretty little spotted Apaloosa, just like yours, Miss Gaskill.”

“Annabelle?” said Mary Beth.

“That’s right.”

“You think this is a trap, Dutch?” said Arthur, tense. “You think it’s Colm, trying to lure you in again?”

Dutch puffed up. “I don’t know. But this certainly ain’t no coincidence. We ride. Tonight.”

Arthur became tense. “I ain’t riding the women into no trap, Dutch.”

“Calm down, Arthur,” said Dutch. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with just yet. For now, we’ll get as far as the Heartlands and make camp. Tomorrow morning, we head into West Elizabeth and…see what we can see. Sadie and Mary Beth can be of use to us. They can get information where we cannot. Comprende?” He looked around to wide gestures of agreement.

Arthur hesitated, but he eventually played along, sighing, finishing his cigarette and tossing it to the floor where it burned out into black.

Riding out, for a long time, it was silence. The sun started to melt off over the horizon at some point, and the air got crisper, and there were coyotes, it seemed, everywhere, and wild horses hustling out to the coast. Around the time they they were passing through Scarlet Meadows, Mary Beth rode up beside Arthur and asked him to hang back. Arthur obliged. They slowed considerably, making sure they could still see the rest of the group up ahead, but far enough behind to stay out of earshot.

“Arthur,” she said after a little while. The air was purple. It was getting past dusk now as they crested into the Heartlands. Soon, they’d need to make camp.

Arthur wouldn’t meet her eyes. “What is it, Mary Beth.”

“I know you don’t want me here.”

This broke him. He shook his head. He felt bad. “That ain’t it, Mary Beth. Of course I want you here. I always want you here.”

“Okay,” she said, looking around with her hood up. She looked sweet and kind. She looked like his girl. “Then I know you’re freaking out.”

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t even know what we’re up against yet,” she said. “Just give me a chance. You were willing to do that a few weeks ago, when we left for our hunting trip. What’s changed?”

“You know what’s changed,” he said, looking at her, lowering his voice. “I took a leap. I landed on my feet, somehow, and now I’m looking around, and I see us going backwards.”

“Arthur—”

He took a deep breath, looking down at his hands on the reins. “We ain’t been thinking.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, we got real deep, real fast, before we paved our exit. Putting you in danger, with so much goddam uncertainty? It’s making me crazy, Mary Beth. And Dutch, well.” Arthur laughed, cynically, under his breath. “Well he’s making me crazy, too. First that god forsaken party, Angelo Bronte, and now all this nonsense about Colm O’Driscoll. He ain’t even explained what the hell he’s going on about yet. Just expects we ride along with him, and look at us, doing exactly as we’re told. I’m a goddam fool.”

“You’re talking in code, Arthur,” said Mary Beth, pulling Watson up a little closer. “What the hell are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I just—”

“You said you talked to John,” she said. “Last night, before we went to sleep. Has he made up his mind?”

“Yes.” Arthur nodded. “They’re in. He’s just waiting on me.”

“Good,” she said. “He should be. You know what to do, Arthur. You need to stop second-guessing yourself. And try to just…breathe. I wanna get outta here, too. You know I do. But we gotta get Kieran back. He’s put in his time, and his heart. He’s one of us, and we owe him this. And you gotta deal with Dutch, Arthur. We can’t—there’s too much at stake.”

“I know,” he said. He closed his eyes, thinking. “I just—I know I’m talking nonsense, Mary Beth, but the more time we spend, heming and hawing in the swamps, the more foreboding the feeling in my gut. Like, the longer we wait around, the closer we get to the end. I can feel it. And riding out with you tonight, it’s bringing all that to the surface.”

“The end of what?” she said, watching him in the coming darkness. “What are we getting to the end of, Arthur?”

Arthur sighed. He shook his head again and again, staring off into the darkening path ahead where Dutch rode his pretty white horse at the helm. “Everything,” he said, real low and mean. He looked at her. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember what it felt like to be free. “Come on,” he said, opening his eyes again, picking up the pace a little. “We can talk more later. I’m good with you being here, I just—I need you to listen me, okay?” he said, switching gears, looking at her. “Whatever happens, Mary Beth, when we get wherever it is we’re headed, I need you to listen to me and listen to what I say to you.”

“Okay,” she said, earnest.

“I’m serious,” he said. “And I ain’t saying this because you’re a woman, and not because I love you and I’m terrified that something might happen to you. Or, maybe that second one, just a little, but mostly I’m saying this because you ain’t never been out on a job like this before. Because you’re a rookie, and I’m your lieutenant, and I need you to do what I say when I say it, or else we ain’t standing a chance. You understand?”

“Yes,” she said, becoming eager. “I understand.”

“Good,” he said, and he gave her a strong nod, and then he led the way out ahead so they could catch up with the rest of the gang.

She felt validated by his pep talk. He didn’t altogether know how much she aimed to be strong.

They rode till they found a good valley to camp in south of the Heartlands, not far from the lake. The scenery, even in darkness, reminded Mary Beth of Clemens Point. She became full to the brim with sadness and nostalgia. She almost started crying. The romance of it all, its highness and mighty feelings, had started wearing off, and now it was just her and Arthur, and she looked at him, stoking their fire, and she felt such love in her heart so as to help her do anything. Such fortitude. But everything seemed much easier when they were up at Deer Cottage, all alone in what had felt like a primitive world.

At some point Dutch Arthur and Charles grouped up beneath a nearby tree smoking and discussing their manly options for the next day. Sadie and Marybeth were aced out of this conversation, left to their own devices at the fire where Sadie was cleaning her sawed-off, and Mary Beth was making them a batch of whiskey tea.

"What do you think they’re talking about?" said Sadie.

"Who knows," said Marybeth.

"Fucking egos," said Sadie, looking crass. "The only reason Dutch brought me along was because I made a goddamn stink in front of everyone. For such a drama queen, he sure don’t like it when others cause a fuss."

Mary Beth laughed. "I know what you mean," she said. "You want some tea?"

"Sure," said Sadie.

Together they sat, by the fire, sipping their tea and looking at their boots. Sadie drew real quiet. She held her cup with two hands, looking down into it like it was no tomorrow. She took it down in three gulps. Mary Beth offered her some more. Sadie nodded and held out her cup.

“I hate this damn Heartlands country,” said Sadie. "It smells like fish and buffalo shit. Where are you from Mary Beth?

"Kansas," send Mary Beth.

"Do you miss it?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

Mary Beth took a long drink of her whiskey tea. It was strong and dark and tasted good. "Too many reminders," she said.

Sadie laughed to herself, sounding resigned. “I hear that."

Mary Beth looked up at the wide open sky. The clouds had exited. The stars we’re bright and swimming like fishes. “Why did you want to come anyway?” she said.

Sadie swallowed down that second cup of whiskey tea. She set down the cup and went back to cleaning her gun, polishing it with a dirty linen rag. At first, she didn’t say anything. She just sat there, sullen with her eyes downturned. But sooner or later she spoke.

“I ain’t ever known a man as good as my Jakey,” she said, subdued. “Colm O’Driscoll took him away from me. I want my revenge.”

She said this with such clarity of mind. Such purity of darkness inside her. Mary Beth could feel the whole world narrowing around them, becoming a tornado, crushing into the walls ahead. She sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t even begin to understand what you been through.”

Sadie looked up, surprised. She ceased cleaning that gun. “Sure you can,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“You been in love,” said Sadie. “If somebody shot Arthur dead and left his body for wild animals to come and scavenge in the middle of a fuckin snowstorm, wouldn’t you do anything to watch them burn?”

Mary Beth got quiet after this. She was listening to the crickets. She looked down at her freckled hands, and then she closed her eyes.

Sadie swore under her breath. She seemed filled with remorse by what she'd said. She realized it was unforgivable. She set down her gun and leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees. She dropped her chin to her chest. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Mary Beth,” she said. She placed her hand on Mary Beth’s hand, just for a second. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get so…mean sometimes. Without him.” She kind of sniffled, looked away like she was crying. “So angry. It makes me say and do terrible things.”

“It’s okay,” said Mary Beth. “You don't have to explain.”

“It ain’t okay,” said Sadie, wiping her tears on the back of her hand. “After Jake, up in Colter, you was nicer to me than anyone. You and Arthur, I mean. And here I am, scaring you and making you feel bad.”

“You ain’t. I promise.”

Then she pulled herself together and looked back at Mary Beth with a whole lot of resolve in her face. “Arthur is strong,” she said. “He’s a survivor. He knows what he’s doing, and he loves you. That much is clear. You got nothing to worry about.”

Mary Beth nodded. She took another long drink of her tea. It was starting to cool.

Together, they watched the boys talking under that tree.

“Is he your first love?” said Sadie, getting dreamy.

Mary Beth smiled. “Mostly,” she said. “I mean, I had puppy love once. With a boy back in Kansas City, but it wasn't nothing like being with Arthur,” she said. She didn’t know how old Sadie was, but she figured she was at least enough older to be able to understand what it was she was saying. “He gets real protective sometimes, you know? But I don’t want him to think I’m weak.”

“He don’t think you’re weak,” said Sadie.

“How do you know?”

“Because he knows you, and you ain’t.”

Mary Beth watched Arthur, smoking, listening to Dutch, flexing his jaw like he was thinking real hard. She nodded, following Sadie’s gist. She was pretty sure she understood.

That night, in their tent in the Heartlands, Arthur and Mary Beth lie side by side with a little lantern lit up by their faces. Mary Beth was reading her Yates while Arthur was drawing something in his journal and chewing on a toothpick. Outside of their tent, it was a quiet world. All was calm except for Charles out by the fire, sharpening his knife.

“What are you drawing?” said Mary Beth after a little while, turning her head to look at Arthur.

He took a deep breath, studied his work. “You,” he said.

It was a surprise. Mary Beth felt herself kind of pluck up and blush furiously. She straightened and closed her book and asked if she could see.

“Sure,” he said.

He showed her.

It was two pictures. One of her eating a peach, wearing a dress, sitting on a blanket by the river. The other one was her with that shotgun, shooting a turtle. She laughed. “Arthur!” she said, wacking him on the shoulder. “Not the turtle again.”

He laughed, too. “What’s wrong with the turtle?” he said. “I like that turtle. I like that day. I don’t wanna forget.”

“Me neither,” she said, gazing up at him. She felt that whole host of romantic dreams returning to her. Then she kissed him, getting breathless.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #mary beth gaskill #mary-beth gaskill #arthur x mary beth #rdr2 fanfic #the lily farm #dutch van der linde #charles smith #sadie adler

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jensenscomedyelbows · 5 years

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SUPERNATUAL 21 QUESTIONS

(THE INCREDIBLE HEATHER, AKA @sammichgirl, did this and tagged me as one of her favorite blogs, so I’m giving it a go. Thanks, doll.)

1. When did you start watching Supernatural?

On September 19, 2012. I was recovering from surgery and had binged all there was to binge on Netflix at that point, and I asked my BFF James what I should watch. He immediately said “Supernatural!” I was skeptical, and I asked him exactly what it was about. He told me brothers, Sam and Dean, who were “slayers,” probably because he knew I loved BtVS and that would interest me. I thought hmmm, maybe. That same day my other BFF, Angel, called to check on me, so I asked her if she had any recommendations—and she said the same thing! She, like James, had watched every episode live since day one. So I watched the pilot, and was immediately struck by the twin images of Mary and Jessica burning on the ceiling. I HAD TO KNOW WHY. Three weeks later, I finished season 6, just in time for Netflix to add season 7, and not long after I finished that, season 8 began airing live, with me right in front of my TV every Tuesday night, dying to see what would happen next. AND I’M STILL HERE (and have been to THREE conventions, lord have mercy!)

2. Who is your favorite in TFW?

Like Heather, I never really thought that was a thing. It was a line put in for a laugh in one episode that got blown up into a big deal, but I never felt invested in the concept. But if you’re asking me which character is my favorite among Sam, Dean, and Castiel, my favorite will always be Dean. You can’t love him without loving Sam too, however, and there are episodes in which my sympathies are more with Sam, and episodes in which I identify/sympathize more with Dean. I rarely sympathize with Castiel because he’s not human.

3. Who is your least favorite in TFW?

Castiel. I haven’t much liked his character since season 5, but I do recognize that’s entirely the writers’ fault.

4. Tag your top 5 Supernatural blogs.

The ones I turn to again and again for gifs (and which have been particularly useful in illustrating my 2019 rewatch) have been: @sensitivehandsomeactionman @secretsandgreeneyes @saucynewf @demondetoxmanual and @spn-idjits-guide-to-hunting. I also love @lipglosskaz @sammichgirl @lemondropsonice @whiskeycherrypie and @misswhizzy. I am a thousand percent sure I’m leaving out at least fifty I love and adore 🥰, and it will drive me nuts thinking about it!

5. Who is your favorite character (not including TFW)?

Bobby Singer, no contest, hands down.

6. Who is your favorite woman in Supernatural?

Ellen Harvelle. A calm, steadying presence with the knowledge and skill to back up her formidable courage. Tough when she needed to be, loving when the people she cared about were in trouble. Heroic.

7. John or Mary?

Neither or both. If you erase the Dabb era resurrection of Mary, then both. Both John and Mary had profound impacts on Sam and Dean’s personalities and views of the world—John’s by his presence and Mary’s by her absence. They made our boys who they are. But if you count Mary’s resurrection and terrible new character arc, then John of course.

8. What were your first opinions of Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack?

I thought it was commendable for Sam to want to go to law school, and tragic what happened to Jessica and his plans for the future. I loved how open he was with Dean (early days!), how much trust he had in him, and how easily victims responded to him. Also: book smarts are a turn-on of mine.

I fell in love with Dean’s beauty by Wendigo, and his everything else by Home. The brave face, the stiff upper lip hiding the vulnerability and insecurity from his little brother because he feels he has to be strong for him—all that just made me love him more. Also: a wicked sense of humor is a huge turn-on of mine.

Castiel has a great character entrance. Emotionless. He burned out Pamela’s eyes. I thought that was unnecessary. He and Uriel were alien beings whose motives were the opposite of pure, so I feared his power and questioned his interaction with Sam and Dean.

Jack: Oh, I get it—the CW needs to compete with Riverdale and its other shows featuring teenagers, so they invented Lucifer’s son to boost ratings. *shrug*

9. What’s your favorite season?

2, 4, and 5–there are just too many good ones to have just one favorite. I also love 1 and 3. LOL.

10. What’s your least favorite season?

Season 12 just about broke me. Let me count the ways: Lucifer possessing the President of the United States (oh please, I watch this show to ESCAPE real life, tyvm), Sam and Dean MURDERING him in yet another failed attempt to kill Lucifer, being sent to “Supermax” which, again, PLEASE, do you even know what would happen to the assassins responsible for killing the POTUS? Not even Sam and Dean would be able to bust out of that lockup—no effing way—yet they did. And how did they do it? By murdering a shitload of HUMAN BEINGS just doing their jobs, running around with AK-47s while yelling how they’re the guys who saved the world 🙄 I can’t see either Sam or Dean EVER bragging about that, and since then, they have, many times, and it always sets my teeth on edge. SEASON TWELVE DOESN’T EXIST TO ME.

11. What’s your opinion on Destiel?

It’s a fan ship that is popular among the younger, less experienced viewers of our show (many of whom haven’t even seen any seasons/episodes without Castiel in them), so my opinion isn’t very high. It’s like Dean and Cas are two dolls, and the Destiel fandom’s chief delight is mashing them together any way they can. And forcing the rest of us to hear them lecture us on how it’s “real,” how it’s “going to be canon,” and generally alienating everyone who doesn’t ship those two characters. I ignore anything to do with it.

12. Do you believe Supernatural queerbaits?

I’m not queer, so bearing in mind that I wouldn’t necessarily see it if it did, I’ve tried to look at it as impartially and dispassionately as possible, and I believe that Misha has been guilty of it, on occasion. (Sure, it’s all in good fun, he’s only kidding, he’s having a laugh, etc.) Ben Edlund has as well. Robbie Thompson was perhaps guilty of it a time or two. But this is all supposing that it is impossible for A TRUE PLATONIC LOVING RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEN to be portrayed on television. I mean, Dean/Castiel is the only “baiting” I’ve ever heard people yell about, so I’m sticking to this one possible pairing as the one responsible for this question. I personally have no trouble accepting a platonic same-sex relationship...but queer fandom seems to have a lot of trouble with this concept?

13. Seasons 1-7 or 8-14?

Hahahaha, obviously 1-7. KEEP 12 AWAY FROM ME.

14. Who’s your favorite villain?

CROWLEY. He was so awful before his redemptive stuff at the end. Never forget that as of the end of season 8, he was murdering all the innocent people Sam and Dean had saved (including Sarah Blake!), then in season 9, he was the one responsible for getting Gadreel out of Sam. After that, he wasn’t really a villain anymore. But he was so irredeemably evil for four seasons!

15. Do you think they should end the Lucifer plot line?

THEY HAVE! Now they just need to end the NICK plot line.

16. Who do you think has been through more trauma—Sam, Dean or Cas?

Sam and Dean have been through the SAME traumas, almost exactly, so I call theirs dead even. I wouldn’t want to measure or quantify “trauma” in any case. Castiel isn’t human, so I never thought of him as undergoing any trauma.

17. What’s your favorite Supernatural episode?

Mystery Spot, 3x11. It’s the one I would show someone new to the show. It’s the one I watch when I’m down. I LOVE stories with the time-loop trope ❤️ The acting is phenomenal. It’s funny, it’s tragic, it’s everything.

18. Do you like the case episodes?

All of season 1 is comprised of “case” episodes. Looking for John and Sam’s connection to “the demon” are secondary in that season, and I loved it enough to fall in love with the entire series, so YES. I’m a horror/mystery buff at heart.

19. Who do you relate most to in TFW?

It will come as no surprise to anyone reading this that my answer is Dean.

20. Why do you like Supernatural?

Honestly, it’s the only place I can see the Winchesters do their thing—make their choices, fight their battles, and live their lives. They DO lead eventful lives!

21. If you could bring back one character and kill another off, who would they be?

I’m gonna interpret “bring back” as “never killed off” and go with Bobby—the Bobby we knew and loved, the Bobby who had the boys’ backs and was always there, dispensing wisdom and advice. “Bring back” means an entirely different thing now that there’s an AU—they can (and have) brought back EVERYBODY in an effort to appease fans and boost ratings. I think it’s a failure of imagination, personally, and I’ll give that version of bringing back a hard pass.

I would definitely kill Castiel off, or send him to Heaven for good. And then I don’t want to hear another word about Heaven or Hell again, the end. He hasn’t done anything but give pep talks and occasionally perform a miraculous task when the writers need him to. His character has already been killed, and it was a slow death by a thousand cuts. Very sad.

OKAY. I’m not tagging anybody either, but here’s your chance to get your opinions out there and on the record, so do it! (if you do it, please tag me!)

#supernatural opinions #degree of difficulty: expert #sammichgirl

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arkhamcitysirens · 6 years

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You watched justice league?! How was it? Can you share a review pls?

justice league spoilers under the cut!

i’ve been a bit nervous to share my thoughts because i don’t want to accidentally share spoilers, so if you don’t want the movie spoiled for you, you probably shouldn’t read this!!!

the characters are all amazing. first and foremost, this film is character-driven, not plot-driven, so if you truly love these characters you’ll love the film. their relationships are key to enjoying the movie- highlight of it all was barry and victor being friends, as well as clark and bruce being ‘bros’ (yeah right). i especially enjoyed the portrayals of aquaman, wonder woman, and yes, superman does come back and get some awesome scenes to himself. he’s in the very opening scene and it almost made me cry.

speaking of clark’s ressurection, i didn’t like how they went about it. at the end of ‘batman vs superman’, we see the dirt on his grave shaking, implying that superman is alive in some form. however in this movie he is very much dead. bruce is just so angsty about his boyfriend being six feet under that he literally resurrects him, making for some very uncomfortable grave-robbing and messing-with-a-dead-body scenes, but also some GOLDEN superbat moments. mainly my issue is that bvs implied clark would come back of his own volition, but that wasn’t how it happened at all, although i did appreciate that the way events did unfold led to a lot of (probably unintentional) gay moods on bruce’s behalf.

the opening scene is absolutely incredible and it’s all zack snyder without a doubt. possibly my favourite opener to a movie ever. unfortunately, i feel like that amazing sequence is the ONLY part of the film 100% in tact with snyder’s vision as opposed to joss whedon’s, except for maybe the action scenes.

joss whedon rubbed his grubby little hands all over this thing and as a result the movie is pretty chopped up. half of it feels relatively dark, like something is actually at stake, but then almost every interaction between the league is just funny and lighthearted and everybody is witty as ever. it’s enjoyable to watch but it leaves you feeling like they’re not actually dealing with the literal end of the world. also i can tell it’s going to lead to plenty of criticism that dc is copying marvel’s formula. joss whedon’s fault. but still true.

aside from joss making it all a big joke, he also pulled his typical sexist bullshit with diana. as you might have heard, there IS a scene where the flash falls on top of wonder woman. it’s very awkward and played for laughs. however, it’s not as dramatic as people make it out to be, although it’s completely unnecessary and i wish it hadn’t been included. my bigger issue with diana’s portrayal is that almost EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER gets some form of joke about how they should get with diana. there’s a creepy af scene where diana tends to bruce’s wounds, but it really comes off like it’s dangerously on the verge of slipping into them making out. thank god it doesn’t. alfred comments that bruce is going on a “date” with her, and then also calls diana’s meeting with cyborg a “date” (quit it alfred). the flash gets his oh-shit-i-just-fell-on-her-boobs moment and worst of all, there is a scene in which aquaman is commenting on all of his teammates. he makes genuine comments on everyone, then gets to diana, and just says, “you’re gorgeous, we should totally get together”. it makes diana feel seperate from the team and not as valuable to the league as she is because yet again, the female character is being seperated from her male counterparts. also i don’t think this movie passes the bechdel test. make of that what you will ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a shitload of scenes from the trailers are missing, including the scenes those trailers literally hinged entirely off- there’s no “they said the age of heroes would never come again.” “it has to” moment, and alfred’s ICONIC “i knew you’d be back... i just hope you’re not too late” isn’t even in the final product! which leaves so many questions. who the hell was he addressing anyway??? also iris west’s cameo got cut. presumably this was all done to make more money off the inevitable extended cut, because i think more actual scenes from the trailers are missing than there were missing from ‘suicide squad’, and that is saying something.

another thing is that the villain, steppenwolf, is useless. dumb villain, dumb backstory, total waste of time, but again, this isn’t a plot-driven film. it’s about the characters uniting to defeat SOMETHING and if that takes using a pretty forgettable villain to show us our heroes, i guess i’m okay with that.

on the positive side, the action sequences are GREAT. diana has an incredible scene at the beginning of the film that just shows how much she shines, and i don’t even care that it doesn’t really fit with the plot, it was worth it. the only action scene that felt a little off was the climax, probably because it really didn’t feel like anything was at stake because the movie makes such a point of being the exact opposite of bvs and making jokes at every possible opportunity.

i’m not too sure how to feel about cyborg or flash. barry was presented as the comic relief of the movie at all times (even though pretty much the whole thing was comic relief, he was by far the biggest joke of the show). and i liked that! it just felt like he began to slip too far into the ‘awkward teen’ side of things. however, his relationship with his father was handled fantastically and i ADORED seeing that storyline play out.

there are a couple of absolutely bizarre plot threads in this movie, too. one involves a russian family that we keep cutting back to throughout the film. they really have no purpose, although barry does save them at the end of the movie... and i don’t get it... we didn’t need their origins over iris’s cameo and all the cool trailer scenes but yeah okay whatever dc. another one is this odd comment i didn’t understand in which barry offers victor a fist bump and then says “oh sorry i can’t do that... it’s racially charged”.... nobody in my cinema reacted and i am SO CONFUSED??? was that some terrible joke??? some awful reference i didn’t understand??? someone please clear this up for me.

STAY FOR BOTH AFTER CREDITS SCENES. the first one was just a funny and cute reference to the comics, which i really enjoyed, but the second one was amazing and featured the appearance of two major villains for the dceu, one of which is brand-new to the series that i don’t wanna spoil unless you ask again. but god. stay. they’re both so good.

i think this movie is very much intended as the family package. it’s the antidote to synder’s “too dark” dceu movies of the past. as a result, it’s very funny and lighthearted, almost too much so, and extremely reliant on the characters and relationships to carry it along. i genuinely did enjoy it a lot, but i feel it is still quite flawed. i just hope joss whedon stops writing screenplays, stops directing, and chokes, because i can say with complete honesty that i feel he was the cause of most of this film’s problems.

#justice league #justice league spoilers #long post #spoilers #i know you probably meant a short review but when have i EVER written anything concisely in my life!!!#rambles #Anonymous

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thing1ewot-blog · 5 years

Text

Moonrider – Forum Troll / Fail Spy

Well, folks, here we go with our first troll of the new year. And the winner is:

MOONRIDER!

Congratulations, Moonrider. Now take a bow…and while you’re down there, kiss our ass you ugly, bearded, fat fuck. (No, the shave didn’t help you man. You looked better with that ugly-assed mug covered up…but we’ll get to that in just a few moments.

Now, our history with Moonrider goes back to when this site was first getting set up. I was, at the time, only a passive part of what was going on. Gomez was trying like hell to set up a forum for the site at the time and was just getting his ass handed to him by a bunch of fucking Wotlabs trolls that were spamming it non-fucking-stop.

And it was Moonrider who kept saying over and over again that he was blocked and couldn’t register his name and that Gomez had banned his ass.

Of course, none of that shit was true.

They even set up an account in his name FOR him and he made some other stupid shit accusations against them and I think at that point they just said, “fuck it” and moved on.

Moonrider has always been an asshole. He never has anything good to say about anybody or anything other than himself, which is funny since the ugly fuck doesn’t have a whole shitload going for him. But I digress…

Here’s the type of asshole Moonrider is – he’ll post this in a response to somebody:

But when somebody else does essentially the same exact thing, he posts this:

In other words, Moonrider is allowed to use images in response because he has no fucking brains or vocabulary, but if anybody else does it then they’re a fucking idiot that needs to go back to school.

That’s Moodrider. That’s how he rolls.

So here’s the next question, who is this prick?

Well, you guessed it, we’re going to tell you. Moonrider’s name is Jesse Woodson. Ahhh fuck it…here you go:

Jesse H. Woodson 22109 Countryside Ln Lignum, VA 22726 Facebook MySpace (YES!!! He has a fucking MySpace Page!!!)

We’ll pause for you long enough to stop laughing and clean up the shit you just spewed out of your mouth all over the fucking monitor.

So here he is in all his glory, folks:

Yep.

Ugly.

And fat.

Just like almost all of them. It’s so fucking predictable it’s almost disappointing, isn’t it?

So, that’s it then. That’s him. Typical fucking World of Tanks, ugly, fatass troll.

UPDATE 1/6/18:

So Leftist brought to our attention the fact that Jesse made a bit of an ass of himself over at the Wotlabs forum when they changed the colors of the WN8 scale back in 2014. Apparently, he cried like a little bitch over it, then got essentially neg repped / shamed off the board completely.

That lasted about two weeks before he crept back saying his wife had died of cancer and he was burying her that Wednesday.

WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK?!?!

His wife has cancer and is dying so he’s worried about and bitching about colors on stats in a free-to-play pixel tank game?

HO LEE SHIT!!!

How do we know this? Well, let’s look at a few things:

Here’s his Facebook page where he announced he was engaged to a lady named Erin Beach. That’s in 2013 as stated.

So a year later, he’s crying like a bitch over stats, gets neg repped and shamed to death, vanishes, then comes back announcing she’s dead of cancer:

You know, that would be very sad but for one small little detail.

Here she is just this past October:

Pretty damn nice looking…especially for an alleged corpse.

And we have her Facebook page which we’re not going to post, but it’s also alive and well. She’s a girl after God’s own heart. She’s going back to school to get her degree and working her ass off at two jobs to take care of her family while shit-for-brains Jesse plays fucking eye-spy and pixel tank games.

Nice going, dipshit. You pissed away a woman most guys dream of finding over a fucking free-to-play pixel tank game.

So where does the “spy” thing come in? Well, this is where it gets dicey. This is either a complete, total, epic fail on his part or the most staggering set of circumstances to occur since John Wilkes Booth leaped down to the stage with a smoking gun in hand after he didn’t shoot President Lincoln.

Oh wait…

Anywho, so I get this mysterious email. Here it is in it’s entirely:

Guys,

I often disagree with your approach. And I think your political commentary is shoddy and takes away from your purpose. But with those digs I just wanted to tell you:

Rita published this crap about a skin in the console game and didn’t contact anyone for statements, didn’t realize that WG can take anything they want that users post to the forums etc. My point is, it was shoddy journalism.

While I don’t agree with your editorial slant, you guys do great investigative work. Undeniable. And the quality of your work is a sharp contrast in comparison to the gossip column Status Report has become.

I check the site out. I have a different view. In the end you have a right to your approach and you do some great work.

I do PR work in DC. You fact check better than a lot of major networks and papers. In a time where journalism has really devolved to printing gossip, you guys have some respectable principles. Diversity of opinion is great when the opposing side has command of the facts. It’s why I keep reading your stuff.

You can print this if you want. I sent this privately simply because it is partially critical. Please don’t use my name or phone if you do.

I am a crappy 50% player in the game who struggles passed tier 8, by the way.

Christopher Alexander 202.779.8387

I responded back cordially:

We never expected for everybody to agree with us. Hell, that’s not even REMOTLEY possible.

We were just sick to death of never having a voice. Of the Wargaming power clans who are also the moderators deleting anything and everything that shows who they really are and what they’re really all about while putting their own bullshit narrative into place by nothing but pure censorship.

If we get it wrong, it’s not because we just fucking made it up. We’re simply telling it how we see it with the information we actually hunt down and find.

Thanks for the letter. No offense is taken. We’re not above criticism (god knows we’ve gone ’round and ’round with Scorpiany on more than one occasion), but criticize us. Don’t come on our site trying to troll us with your bullshit like they do on the official forum. You’ll notice that Scorpiany still hangs around.

Thanks for the letter. Believe it or not, we’re getting more and more just like it almost daily now.

Regards,

Thing 1

So then, VERY quickly, he comes back with this:

Well… The fact that a dude named Thing 1 could bets his beat better than half the DC press corps (on either side of political spectrum) pretty awesome.

You guys have your thing, and I get it. But I’d love to see you guys sit down with Wargaming and do an interview. You’d need to be softer in your tone and that may not work with your intent, but that would be something.

While I am not as negative about them in general, there media relations are poor, and I doubt they would do it.

Funny, Chieftan and I were in adjacent units in Iraq (I was a Scout) and a few years ago I was in a match and chatted with him. When I explained what I do now he encouraged me to apply for as their PR head.

That would have been a tough job.

So they invest in the new tech. Does this mean they stop being accountants now and spend money to enhance the game? Or will they be more arrogant and double down with the attitude that the graphics fixes everything so stop complaining about your tier 8 you bought perpetually being feasted on by tier 10s.

Guess we’ll know soon.

So, instantly, I’m like:

So what WAS an apparently innocent email now turns into “I know the Chieftain” and “you should sit down with Wargaming”.

SAY FUCKING WHAT?

So, I make a couple of calls and go into investigation mode.

The guys email address is: [email protected]

Why would DK, a multinational fucking publishing/media company, use fucking Gmail? Well, folks, they wouldn’t. I made a phone call and it turns out not only does DK NOT use Gmail, they have never heard of anybody named Christopher Alexander and are sure that he and his message are a complete fraud as far as they are concerned.

OK. Cool. So who is he then?

Probably best to run the phone number he provided. So I make another call and get that done. I also open the source on the email itself and find the final IP address of the original sender:

That, folks, is the IP of the cell phone that sent the email.

It’s an unregistered, pre-paid cell phone. Oh how convenient, eh? But we do know where it was used last. It was last registered bouncing off a tower in close proximity to Jesse’s house.

Well, let’s look at a few pictures to help you all visualize this better. Here is Jesse’s house:

Now, if you zoom out from that, you’ll see where the cell phone last registered:

Folks, that is one hell of a coincidence, is it not?

But then the question arises, why would he go to all the trouble? Well, we have a theory on that. You see, we think he thinks that he’s smart. He wanted to see what we would do, and if one of us would call the unlisted, pre-paid cell so they could fuck with us or something.

I don’t really know.

But I do know this: Moonrider came to this site earlier to see if we had published anything. First time he’s ever been here, folks. Today. Right after all this shit went down, he shows up.

Now folks, any ONE of these things in and of itself means nothing.

But ALL OF IT?! What the fuck are the odds?

Less than zero, folks.

youtube

#world of tanks #troll #fail #mellinial #jesse #woodson #moonrider #wotlabs

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