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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

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Following the Thread Transcript

AKA all the "canon" there is of Aiden. Google doc to save for easy reference is here. Providing this is entirely selfish of me, please use it and write some lambden <3

EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

GERALT approaches a GUARD standing outside of a door.

GUARD: Don’t like folk wandering around here.

GERALT: Oh yeah? Well, got a beast you need someone to get rid of? I’m here about the notice.

GUARD: Ah, supervisor Lund posted it. Yeah, a beast haunts the outskirts, murdering folk. Got ‘em scared to leave their homes after dark.

GERALT: I’d like to talk to this supervisor.

GUARD: Too bad he don’t receive petitioners.

GERALT: So what’s he do, exactly?

GUARD: Delivery relief on behalf of the city council—flour and groats for the paupers. Meaning, he don’t do it personally. He’s got men for that. He, himself, he, uh. (GESTURES BROADLY)

GERALT: Supervises.

GUARD: Exactly!

GERALT: I aim to hunt down this monster.

GUARD: Best hurry, then. Some other bloke’s already after it.

GERALT: Who took the contract?

GUARD: Didn’t see the man. Was just told some brave fool’d turned up.

GERALT: When’d you find the last victim?

GUARD: Just last night. Hubert, a beggar, but a decent man. I’d let him sleep in the shed from time to time—that one, on the right. Eustace hasn’t come for the corpse yet. It’s lying in there, where I found it.

GERALT: Any eyewitnesses to these attacks?

GUARD: No, just the bodies. Beast appears only at night, chooses isolated victims.

GERALT: Thanks. So long.

Geralt goes to the shed and examines it, finding a puddle of blood that’s not human, and Hubert’s body, which is drained of blood. There’s ekimmara tracks in the shed that Geralt follows along the river’s edge, until they disappear at a dock. Geralt swims across the river and finds the tracks again, leading him to another building. Geralt notes that’s there’s rat corpses outside that have been drained of blood.

INT. DARK HOUSE

There’s the sounds of combat upstairs, blade clashing, an ekimmara screeching, and a whoosh from aard. Geralt rushes up the stairs to see LAMBERT fighting the monster. They kill it together.

GERALT: Greetings, Lambert.

LAMBERT: Damn, it’s good to see you, Wolf.

GERALT: Decide to do some hunting in Novigrad? Far as I remember, you never liked this city.

LAMBERT: Still don’t. Thing is, got a certain matter to take care of.

GERALT: What have you been up to? Any luck on the path?

LAMBERT: A lot, in fact. Quite the takings in Lan Exeter. Was asked to hunt down a giant, who turned out to be a forest troll and some bandits.

GERALT: Bandits?

LAMBERT: (SHRUGS) Came as a package with the troll.

GERALT: The matter you mentioned, anything I can help with?

LAMBERT: Hmm. Maybe. But we’ll talk about that later. Got our reward to collect. I’m kinda in a hurry. Let’s say you’ve earned half, what the hell.

EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

Geralt and Lambert approach the guard from earlier.

GUARD: So?

LAMBERT: What do you think? We did what we had to do. Time to pay up.

GUARD: Wait here, I’ll go see the supervisor, get your reward.

LAMBERT: Do that ourselves. No reason you should leave your post.

Geralt gives Lambert a sideways glance.

GUARD: Hmm, can’t argue with that logic. Go on in.

EXT SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING, COURTYARD

Lambert and Geralt approach SUPERVISOR LUND in an outdoor space. There’s three guards milling around.

LAMBERT: We dealt with the monster at the docks. Here for our reward.

LUND: Witchers? Since when do you travel in pairs?

LAMBERT: Lots of dangers for a lone witcher. Bandits, for example.

LUND: I’d advise you to change your tone.

LAMBERT: Where’s Jad Karadin? Talk!

GERALT: Who?

LAMBERT: Trust me, Geralt. This is important. There’s something I gotta know.

LUND: I do not know any Karadin. Take your coin for the before and bugger off before I lose my temper!

LAMBERT: (YELLING) Where’s Jad Karadin? Asking you for the last time!

LUND: Guards, to the dungeon with them!

Lund runs out of the courtyard, and Lambert chases after him, leaving Geralt to fight the three guards.

INT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

Geralt walks inside to find Lund cowering from Lambert.

LAMBERT: This guy’s more trouble than the ekimmara.

LUND: Karadin’s disappeared. I swear! The others, too! I only know of Vienne.

LAMBERT: What about Vienne?

LUND: She drinks at the Seven Cats. There day and night.

LAMBERT: See? You can be helpful.

Lambert unsheathes his sword and stabs Lund in the gut while Geralt watches. Lund collapses to the floor. Lambert turns to look at Geralt in challenge.

GERALT: That was murder. Was that really necessary?

LAMBERT: Yes.

Geralt shakes his head.

LAMBERT (cont.): More guardsmen’ll show soon. Let’s go. Meet me at the Seven Cats. Tell you everything there.

GERALT: The tavern Vienne frequents?

LAMBERT: Yeah. See you later.

EXT. SEVEN CATS INN

Lambert is leaning against a rock when Geralt approaches him.

GERALT: All right. High time you explained some things. Why’d you kill Lund? What’s this all about?

LAMBERT: Want the short version or the long one?

GERALT: Lemme hear the whole thing.

LAMBERT: Had a friend. Aiden was his name.

GERALT: You? Had a friend?

LAMBERT: Oh, hi-fuckin’-larious. I met him soon after I'd accepted a contract to lift the curse from the Ogre of Ellander. Aiden had been hired to kill it. He was a witcher from the school of the cat.

GERALT: Far as I remember, the ogre was killed in the end.

LAMBERT: Yeah, after it gutted my employer, we really didn’t have a choice. I cut a deal with Aiden. We joined forces, split the reward for killing the ogre between us. After that, we worked together a lot. Hands down the best man I’d ever met. I mean, I like you, you know that. Still, no comparison.

GERALT: What happened to him?

LAMBERT: Some time ago, Aiden took on a contract to lift a curse off a duke’s daughter. It was a political mess from the start. Then there was the hatred for the school of the cat to deal with.

GERALT: They worked hard to deserve that hate. Basically hired assassins.

LAMBERT: (SNAPS) Aiden wasn’t like that. (PAUSES, LOOKS AWAY) Anyway, some of the duke’s courtier’s had designs. Weren’t all keen on the curse being lifted from the duke’s first born. So, a band of trained assassins ambushed Aiden, murdered him. Our dear supervisor was one of them.

GERALT: And Jad Karadin?

LAMBERT: The assassins’ leader. And the one to deal the mortal blow.

GERALT: Sorry about your friend.

LAMBERT: Don’t need your sympathy, just your help. (PUSHES OFF ROCK HE WAS LEANING ON TO STRAIGHTEN) We have to talk to Vienne. Must’ve had enough to drink by now. Let’s go.

INT. SEVEN CATS INN

Geralt and Lambert approach VIENNE, a lithe elvish woman wearing a deep cut purple blouse with her dark hair in a braid. She has a drinking glass in front of her where she sits alone at a table.

GERALT: Vienne?

VIENNE: What do you want?

LAMBERT: We wanna see Jad Karadin.

VIENNE: (LAUGHS) Now why would I help you?

GERALT: It’s really important to my friend here.

VIENNE: And what will I get out of it?

LAMBERT: Pay for your beer, for starters. Then we’ll see how valuable your information is.

VIENNE: (CONSIDERS, TAKES DRINK) I was part of Karadin’s band, but… When was that? I don’t know where to find him; I’ve fallen out with the lot.

Geralt sits at her table.

VIENNE (cont.): Besides, he’s no longer chummy with his old mates. Word around town is he’s changed.

Lambert sits down, also, now.

GERALT: Karadin’s changed? What do you mean?

VIENNE: He’s dropped all his old connections, stopped taking on petty killings. He’s hidden himself away in some hole. Must be planning something big.

GERALT: Who else was in Karadin’s band?

VIENNE: Aside from me? Selyse, Hammond, and Lund. But they’ve scattered all over the world. Selyse went to Tretogor, Hammond to Skellige, and Lund—

LAMBERT: Lund’s dead.

VIENNE: (CACKLES) Finally met his match. Well, you’ve only Hammond or Selyse to talk to, then.

GERALT: What about you? What’s your story?

VIENNE: Scoia'tael was decimated, so I joined Karadin. They never treated me as an equal. No. I could hit a sparrow from a hundred paces, but I was never good enough for Karadin. He always preferred that cunt Selyse…

LAMBERT: You have a hand in the murder of the witcher Aiden?

VIENNE: Perhaps. I don’t remember.

GERALT: We need information about Hammond.

VIENNE: Karadin’s right hand man, once. When the band broke up, he went back to Faroe whence he had come. He’s a pirate, now. Even the jarls treat him with respect.

GERALT: This Selyse, where can we find her?

VIENNE: She’s done well for herself. Runs a brothel in tretogor, the kind rich men frequent. Whores suck information out of them, then she sells it.

LAMBERT: Name of this brothel?

VIENNE: The Black Lily. Selyse always did have horrible taste.

GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) Satisfied?

Geralt and Lambert both stand.

LAMBERT: She doesn’t know anything. We need to talk to Hammond and Selyse.

VIENNE: Don’t go looking for Karadin. If he senses you nipping at his heels, he’ll kill you without batting an eye.

LAMBERT: We’ll see. As for you…

OPTION ONE

GERALT: No, Lambert.

LAMBERT: Right, better to leave her like this.

VIENNE: What about my coin?

Geralt and Lambert exit the inn.

VIENNE (cont.): Arseholes.

OPTION TWO

GERALT: Do whatever you think is right, Lambert. Not here to preach morals.

VIENNE: (LAUGHS) “Do what you think is right?” Only one thing worse than cold blooded murder—hypocrisy. Informers, racists, snitches!

VAREN: Vienne, bloody hell. What is it?

VIENNE: They’ve come for me, Varen! I told you someone would, sooner or later!

VAREN: (IN ELDER) Don’t be afraid.

GERALT: Shit.

A fight breaks out in the inn and ends with Vienne dead.

EXT. SEVEN CATS INN—NIGHT

LAMBERT: You’ve gotta help me, Geralt. Best thing will be to split up. You sail to Skellige, try to squeeze something out of Hammond. I’ll go to Tretegor and try to get something out of Selyse.

GERALT: Lambert, let’s talk about this.

LAMBERT: Let’s not. This is one of those situations, serious situations, where you don’t ask unnecessary questions and just help your friend.

GERALT: Where’ll we meet once I’m back?

LAMBERT: At the Nowhere Inn.

GERALT: All right, I’m off. Good luck.

They both nod to each other, and the scene fades to black as Lambert walks away.

EXT. PIRATE’S SETTLEMENT, SKELLIGE

Geralt approaches two men standing guard outside of the settlement he’d been pointed to in order to find Hammond.

GUARD: Whaddya want?

GERALT: I’m looking for Hammond.

GUARD: What for?

GERALT: Business.

GUARD: He prays at the chapel on the hill this time of day. If it’s slaves you’re looking to buy, you’ll have to wait ‘til he’s done.

GERALT: He’s praying? Wouldn’t have thought him a god fearing man.

GUARD: Hmm. Yet it’s not something that would surprise any man who knows him.

GUARD TWO: Another snoop! You know the drill!

A fight breaks out with all of the pirates. After Geralt defeats them, he travels across the island.

EXT. HAMMOND’S SHRINE

Geralt walks into the shrine, and it’s an outdoor space with wide, curved beams driven into the ground that create a circle. Hammond is in the middle of the area in front of a pile of weaponry and shields. Hammond is shirtless and wearing a green tartan kilt with a wide leather belt. His hair is in a ponytail, and a leather strap encircles his left bicep. There’s a brown arm guard on the same arm, and there’s a gold band wrapped around his right bicep. There’s a large war hammer strapped to his back.

HAMMOND: Gods of the sea, I’ve never begrudge ye no gifts. Grant me another victory, so I can make an offering of me loot. (STANDS AND NOTICES GERALT) Fuck, what now?

GERALT: Heard you were in Karadin’s band.

HAMMOND: Fuckin’ say what you want. C’mon, spit it out, you arse lickin’ bastard!

GERALT: I’m looking for Jad Karadin.

HAMMOND: And just who the hell’re you?

GERALT: A friend of a friend. I’m looking for Karasin, thought maybe we could make some sort of deal.

HAMMOND: What, our business rubbing some Novigrad pricks the wrong way? Ploughin’ guild! (TO HIS GUARDS) Come on, what are you waiting for? Kill the fucker!

A fight breaks out and Geralt kills Hammond and his three guards. After, Geralt searches Hammond’s body and retrieves a letter on elegant stationary.

Hammond,

Thought I made it clear during our last face to face talk. I don’t want to keep in touch and I especially don’t want to do any business with you. I’ve no doubt the enterprise you proposed would be profitable. Nevertheless, to speak colloquially, count me out.

There are plenty of other potential buyers in Novigrad: goldsmiths, jewelers, and merchants dealing in luxury goods, for starters.

I don’t want to get involved.

Whatever you decide, I will wish you well in it. Treat this letter as our final farewell.

Karadin

INT. NOWHERE INN

Geralt approaches Lambert. Lambert is sitting at a table scattered with gwent cards and with a tankard in front of him.

LAMBERT: What the hell took you?

GERALT: Pretty likely Karadin lives in Novigrad. And he never severed ties with Hammond. They’re actually in business together.

LAMBERT: Mm. Learned something, too. He trades in, uh, live goods on the sly. Owns a ship called the Pearl of the Coast. Runs between here and Skellige. Changed his name, too, to Roland Treugger, who officially is a respected Novigrad trader and philanthropist. Has a residence in Gildorf.

GERALT: Anything on Selyse?

LAMBERT: Hmm. Well, didn’t have you there to stand up for her.

GERALT: All right, let’s pay Karadin a visit.

EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE

Lambert and Geralt stand in a stone alleyway, looking at several guards.

LAMBERT: Think I know how to get in. Got a plan.

GERALT: If your plan doesn’t include dealing with an escort of guardsmen, best revise it.

The guards approach Lambert and Geralt.

GERALT (cont.): Calm, now. Let them start it.

GUARD: You’re expected. Come in.

Lambert and Geralt share a glance, and the scene fades to black.

EXT. KARADIN’S BACKYARD

There’s a child in a blue smock, who points at Lambert and Geralt and runs to Karadin. Karadin has yellow slitted eyes, dressed nicely, and there’s a sword at his hip.

KARADIN: Make yourselves at home.

GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) He’s a witcher.

KARADIN: Very true. Let me introduce my wife, Laetitia, and my two little tots. (GESTURES TO A WOMAN AND TWO CHILDREN SITTING IN THE GRASS) You know who I am, and I’ve heard of you. You’ve been asking questions about me. That always draws my attention.

GERALT: What school’d you come out of?

KARADIN: That of the cat. So few of us left.

Lambert sneers.

GERALT: Witchers can’t have children.

KARADIN: But they can have wards. Or take in a woman along with her children, embrace them as their own.

GERALT: I could understand a witcher becoming a hired assassin, but a merchant?

KARADIN: Why ever not? Not one among us doesn’t dream of changing our life. I simply did not stop at dreaming. They say no witcher has ever died in his bed. I aim to be the first.

LAMBERT: Remains to be seen.

GERALT: My friend needs to talk to you.

KARADIN: (TO GUARDS) Lads, take the children and Laetitia and leave us. Our guests wish to speak with me.

His family leaves.

KARADIN (cont.): I’m all ears.

LAMBERT: Talk to him, Geralt. If I do, first word he says to me, I’ll lose it and throttle the fucker.

GERALT: Nice place you got.

KARADIN: As it turned out, I’ve a flair for enterprise. Now I’ve coin enough to provide my family with the finer things in life.

LAMBERT: With some left over for philanthropy.

KARADIN: Miss Marabella’s institute does not scorn small donations. Neither does the city's Widow and Orphan Relief Fund, amongst others.

GERALT: Your wife know who you were?

KARADIN: We are thoroughly honest with each other, harbor no secrets. She prays for me each day. You know what? I think it’s working.

LAMBERT: Fucking hell.

GERALT: Relax, Lambert.

KARADIN: I confessed all just before we pledged to marry one another. Began a new life that day, with a clean slate.

GERALT: Remember Aiden? A witcher. Murdered in Ellander. Guessing the killers were paid well.

KARADIN: I remember him as I remember all the others—with the deepest regret. Yet Aiden was different, in a way. Contrary to rumor, we did not set out to kill him. We were forcced to, when he attacked us.

GERALT: What’s your version of this story?

KARADIN: Aiden had accepted a contract to lift a curse from the duke’s daughter. He took the coin, bungled the job, then left once the girl passed on.

LAMBERT: You lie!

KARADIN: We were not to kill him. We were debt collectors. He’d spent the coin already, so we demanded his swords. When he refused, tempers flared. Vienne, positioned as sniper, lost her nerve, hit Aiden square in the eye.

Lambert looks down. Geralt glances over at him.

KARADIN (cont.): Later, she devised her own version of the story. To silence her guilt, I expect.

GERALT: I’ve heard enough.

KARADIN: What now?

OPTION ONE

GERALT: You’ve changed. You have.

KARADIN: Forgiveness. It’s my sole aim now.

LAMBERT: You’re buying this bullshit? Bastard’s lying his ass off!

OPTION TWO

GERALT: You know what, Karadin? Your remorse—it’s feigned. Completely dishonest. You put on a good show, but I just don’t believe you.

LAMBERT: Don’t even know why we bothered with this chat. We came here to kill you.

OPTION THREE

GERALT: Maybe you’ve changed, maybe not. To me and Lambert, it doesn’t matter.

LAMBERT: You killed Aiden. Fuck your new life. I don’t believe in giving second chances.

OPTION ONE

GERALT: Do what you want, Lambert. Your friend, your vengeance.

LAMBERT: Been waiting a long time for this.

KARADIN: (UNSHEATHES SWORD) And I don’t aim to die.

A fight breaks out, ending in Karadin dead.

LAMBERT: Thanks for your help, Geralt.

GERALT: You’re welcome.

LAMBERT: Wanna talk about it?

GERALT: No.

LAMBERT: See you later. Some day.

GERALT: So long, Lambert.

OPTION TWO

GERALT: Leave him. Let’s go.

LAMBERT: What? Are you fuckin’ nuts?

GERALT: Lambert, this is one of those situations where you have to realize you’re pissed as hell, rein it in, and trust your cool headed friend. Let’s go.

LAMBERT: For fuck’s sake, Geralt. Don’t know that I’ll be able to forgive you.

GERALT: I said let’s go. You can always come back.

Lambert storms off.

KARADIN: Thank you.

Geralt sighs and walks away.

EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE

LAMBERT: Explain yourself.

GERALT: Don’t intend to. Just felt Karadin didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood. If you feel otherwise, you can always go back. Without me.

LAMBERT: I feel like beating the shit out of you. See you later. Some day.

GERALT: So long, Lambert.

#the witcher #the witcher 3 #aiden #lambert #lambden #following the thread #reference #contemplative writing

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shimmershae · 3 years

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My thoughts on Episode 6--On the Inside

Very appropriate title by the way. Works in a multitude of ways.

As always, my randomness is going beneath a cut again to spare the eyeballs of those of you that don’t want to see it at all and also? Help those of you that have somehow stayed spoiler-free in this brand-new age of early release episodes. It is still so wild to me that I’m a full episode ahead of half the fandom. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the final episode and they decide to make us all suffer together--because somehow I do feel they will do exactly that after spoiling us for the first 23 episodes. It is going to be agonizing.

Anyway. Without further ado, Shae’s stream of consciousness review (of sorts).

Not fair, Angela. Opening the episode with that shot of that big ass spider. I hate those suckers. So naturally, they’re an easy sell for setting the horror scene to me, lol.

Okay. Who the hell’s chasing Virgil and Connie? Walker No-See-Ums?

Barely a minute in and the atmosphere for this episode is moody AF.

What is this? Tara Jr. The Walking Dead? LOL. Where’s the Scarlett for this mini plantation house? Anyway. First three minutes of this episode? Just as attention grabbing as the first five episode openings this season. I don’t think people out there are giving our writers enough love for that. Every episode so far has opened like a mini movie.

With the way the Walking Dead logo keeps crumbling away with each successive episode, somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Carol and Daryl spinoff was eventually titled The Living and had flowers growing out of each letter, lol. I mean, there would be a certain sort of life-affirming symmetry in a show that’s been promised to be much lighter in tone doing just that.

More Carol and Aaron? Yes, please. I don’t necessarily like Carol staying at home and sitting the sidelines like a figurative happy little homemaker in the B story while the rest of the mains are trying like hell to sell the A story, but if she’s going to be totally prohibited from the main storyline until it’s time to blow shit up? I’m going to continue enjoy getting to see her do what she should have been doing for seasons--interacting with others in the community, especially Aaron and the ladies.

Truly. I really am loving my girl getting some quality Aaron and Rosita time. It’s so long overdue.

Bless sweet Kelly. Riding off to her sister’s rescue.

Why isn’t Lydia shown as part of these plans? For someone that could barely read last season, I doubt that big ass map was a piece of cake for her and it’s all just guesswork anyway without her guidance. I mean, why does it feel like they are cutting some of this stuff that might not seem like much plot-wise but would go a long way toward establishing different character beats? Personally, I would have loved to see her involved in the search and sharing scenes again with Carol and bonding with Kelly.

Virgil be having that “I always feel like somebody’s watching me” feeling. Don’t you hate that, lol?

“You haven’t slept in days.” But how many days, Virgil? I’m going to need a number because I’m confused AF about this timeline at this point. What we’re seeing and what different pieces of dialogue is telling us is not exactly lining up. I’m going to find it awful hilarious if it hasn’t even been two weeks since the cave in. For reasons.

Connie’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.

Alrighty, then. She’s clearly got PTSD. Understandable. They’ve all had it. Some have been treated more sympathetically than others, though.

I mean, it never seems to cross anybody’s mind how Carol probably sees Henry’s head on that pike, Mika’s pale and bloody body, Lizzie crumpled face down in a bed of yellow flowers, Sophia with a smoking bullet hole through her undead head whenever she closes her eyes but whatever.

Okay though. But what if Connie had really shitty, impossible to read handwriting? AKA doctor’s handwriting. What then?

Leah’s face honestly twists my insides whenever I see it, lol. It’s quiet a visceral thing. No, that does not make me a horrible person. Not everybody wants or has to drink the awesome, great, redeemable villainess Kool-Aid. IMHO, she’s got a face meant for a Walker. Perfect makeover idea. Eh. Mostly it’s her expression and the deadness of her eyes.

Anyway. Why is it always the fingers? Eff that.

Listen. If ya’ll can’t tell Daryl’s conflicted AF with the situation he’s landed in, you don’t know how to read NR’s face and eyes. He’s not a masterclass like MMB but he’s pretty darn good when he wants to be.

I honestly feel sorry for Redshirt Frost.

“You do what you gotta do.” Frost knows what’s what and he’s willing to walk the walk for Maggie. Impressive loyalty. I’m left wondering how the current, colder incarnation of Maggie inspired it because I’m still struggling to see it. Anywho. My point is the dude knows the score and just gave Daryl the okay.

Daryl taking off his angel vest before stepping into the role of torturer/interrogator=him shedding the persona/the man Judith and RJ and Lydia and Carol know him to be. Pushing away his man of honor status so he can just survive somehow.

Pope never quits chewing whatever the hell he’s got in his mouth. It’s kind of distracting.

Ohhh. We’re back to the Haunted Mansion. I mean house. Where are the Hitchhiking Ghosts?

All the eyes scratched out of those creepy pictures=spooky.

The good old fogged up bathroom mirror shot. Somebody’s been watching and studying their horror movies, lol. Not gonna lie though. I’m legit bracing myself for the jump scares I know have to be coming.

I’m loving the music/score in these scenes.

Truthfully, I could care less about these Reapers. But they are hella attractive, lol. Listen. Angela knows what she’s doing.

Kelly’s horse is so pretty. Prayer chain for that baby.

More dead horses? Why?

Connie’s slingshot? Sorry. I maintain, no matter how much I like these two, that they have the lamest weapons ever. Endless supply of Virginia rocks or not.

So. Did Virgil and Connie enjoy a little equine for dinner? Did they kill it before the Walkers fed? What monsters! Yeah, no. Not if they were starving even if I personally could not have. The more probable story is they fled the camp in a panic and left the horse behind and then it went down. Sorry. I didn’t exactly study the wounds on the poor animal because it is so traumatizing to me to continue to see them meet such dastardly ends on this show. I don’t know who the hell has such a score to settle with horses but stop it.

Days. It’s only been days. Not weeks. So many times with all that Daryl and Company have had to contend with since the cave in? Those do not exist, lol. They’re just a convenient, appeasing piece of dialogue thrown at a fanbase primed and ready to read everything into not much of anything. There’s just not been enough time for it to happen unless Daryl has literally been up 24/7 for all of them. You know, strategizing how to attack the remainders of Alpha’s horde, figuring out how to defend Hilltop before it fell, healing from the wound he sustained at Alpha’s hand, sitting on that log all damn night with Negan waiting on Carol to come home, having a lover’s quarrel with his best damn everything, taking care of the Grimes babies and Lydia, being the reluctant leader. Kang, why you playing them like that? Daryl’s a super guy but he’s not a superhuman with clones. So many times my ass.

Seriously. Who been watching Connie and Virgil? The MIA Oceansiders? Beta’s Fee Fi Fo Fum Ghost?

Nice. A Michonne mention. Maybe the truth will start to trickle out.

LMAO at Connie’s “I’m not staying here.” Me neither, girl. I would be outta that house so fast.

They really “Quiet Placing” this episode. Honestly? I’m kinda loving it.

WTF was that? I know she can’t hear but you telling me all the little hairs on her arms, legs, and neck didn’t stand the fuck up and say fuck this shit, I’m gone? Pardon my language, lovelies, but that moment had my heart kicking up several beats.

Okay, okay. To be fair to Connie, every hair on her body been doing that since the front door closed. Maybe they’re desensitized.

Gollum’s chasing Connie!!! He/She wants their Precious!!!

The knee jerk reactions about this episode sight unseen are OTT, honestly. And I mean no disrespect by saying that. I can understand completely where they’re coming from because we’ve been burned so long in this fandom. But it’s obvious the spoiler source has their particular biases and reads into things in such a way that don’t line up with what’s actually being shown onscreen. Daryl’s loyalty in this episode and all along quite clearly lies with his family and his community. He’s been playing Leah since the start and is truly just trying to survive somehow.

Awful thought. The Reaper that’s so suspish of Daryl--haven’t quite caught his name or really cared to. I feel like he might try to get to Daryl somehow. When he realizes that Daryl cares no more for Leah than any human would care for somebody (they thought) they used to know? He’s going after Dog. Or Carol should she finally join this story.

I refuse to believe Carol isn’t going to be a part of this story. Because they messing with her mans, lol.

“You’re ever with us or you’re not.” Now where have I heard those words before? I wish I could find that Daryl gif because that had to be one of the funniest things ever, lol.

Unrealistic suggestion to Daryl, Leah? Breathing oxygen seems to piss off Carver. Oh look. He finally has a name for me, lol.

I love how all three of the ladies--Carol, Magna, and Rosita--look at Kelly with such indulgent, adoring “little sis, you alright?” eyes.

They are seriously the most beautiful quartet of characters. I mean all of them are lovely but Carol and Rosita this season? Ugh. The unfairness of the pretty.

Human bones. Terminus callback, lovelies. How it all would have eventually gone down if Gareth and Co. hadn’t met the business end of Rick’s red machete.

So many horror movie homages in this one.

Virgil’s like “let’s leave this Texas Chainsaw Massacre behind.”

Connie and Virgil have obviously bonded, ya’ll. I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying their scenes together when the character mostly got on my nerves with Michonne. He’s a good actor and the core of his character is sympathetic, but I’m not going to lie. I wasn’t super enthused when he was the one that rescued Connie because I didn’t know how their scenes would play out. But there’s a nice synergy there.

Okay. Does Carver want Leah for himself? Because I’m sure Daryl at this point would love to scream “take her, I know where I fucking belong!”

Daryl’s digging in deep because Carver has shown him Leah’s potential weak spot. Nuance is truly lost on some people, LMAO. He cares about Leah as a human being probably. He’s Daryl, after all. The sweet one. But he sees her as his way outta this and he’s going to exploit it.

It’s nice to have a silent Negan for once, lol. I can pretend he didn’t take my baby Glenn away from me and enjoy JDM’s pretty.

So. These cannibal people were the watchers? Hmm.

I’m really digging Virgil 2.0. Yeah. Nobody’s surprised more than me.

Sweet, sweet scene between Virgil and Connie. His determination to reunite her with her family brings back the sympathy I felt for him when he told Michonne “I promised her flowers. Every day.”

Damn. How many of those creepy crawly cannibals are there?

How brave of Connie to confront her fears to save someone she’s obviously grown to care about.

The Kelly/Connie reunion gave me chills and made me cry. Thank fuck Angela didn’t cheapen that moment by having it focus on literally anybody else. Kelly is the most important person in the whole world to Connie and vice versa. Just like Carol is the most important person in the whole world to Daryl and vice versa. Angela fucking knows. Everybody does. Except the people busy building castles out of sand while the waves of Carol’s and Daryl’s converging stories keep crashing closer and closer to shore.

Such a beautiful moment given to us by Angel Theory and Lauren Ridloff. So authentic and sweet. Kelly and Connie are home to each other.

Poor Frost. That’s all I gotta say about that.

WTF, though. Was Mel just not available or what? I want to see more of the ASZ characters that I care about, not the Reapers. Like I’d be fine with the story if all the characters not named Maggie, Negan, or Daryl weren’t surviving on crumbs during it. Especially the 2nd billed actress on the entire show. Angela. Please. Fix this.

One last WTF. Seriously. WTF has Maggie done to inspire Pope’s obsession? It better be juicy after all this shit.

Overall impression of the episode--

One of my favorites of the season so far. The horror aspects were fantastic, IMHO. I truly didn’t expect to like Connie and Virgil’s scenes as much together so that was a nice surprise. She got the reunion that felt most true and earned for the character and her story and I thank Angela from the bottom of my heart for that.

I would have loved more Carol but I always want more Carol. I’m okay with her taking a backseat because ultimately? This was Kelly’s moment with her sister. Carol and Connie will eventually have their time to sit down and talk. And pick back up their blossoming friendship because I truly do not feel Connie blames Carol at all.

I do wish Lydia had been included with the girl group. Last episode felt like it was leading up to that.

The Reaper storyline continues to be the weakest link because every time we see them the dialogue and interactions feel totally recycled from the time previous. I feel like it would have totally been helped by a tighter focus and less stretching out because 8 episodes of this is really diluting what I feel like Angela and Co. are going for. I’m not here for Leah being redeemed or being a bigger focus in any of the episodes because she does nothing of interest for me. I’m just peeking in on that story for the Daryl of it all.

Speaking of the Daryl? You lovelies out there gotta stop taking that spoiler source’s recaps at face value because it’s obvious to me at least that there’ some bias at work. Every action and word coming from Daryl is coming from a place of loyalty to his family and wanting to protect them, no matter how he has to dirty his hands. Leah is just a means to his ultimate end. She’s not his future. She never was. His future’s already spoken for and 2023 can’t get here soon enough. But like Daryl, we have to just survive somehow.

Oh goodie. More Maggie and Negan next episode and looks like no real follow up on Connie and the ASZ reunions. Hopefully, this is yet another instance of the previews being deceiving but I’m not holding my breath.

Until later, lovelies.

Hope my word vomit didn’t bore you too much.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #ignore all the typos #with something this longwinded?#LOL #there's bound to be plenty

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365days365movies · 3 years

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January 15, 2021: Casino Royale (2006) (Part 1)

So...we meet again, Bond. What’ve you been doing for the past few years?

...What. Not who, James, WHAT. Jeez.

Whatever. BrosBond had 3 movies after GoldenEye, and they were...not great, from what I’ve heard. Remember, I wasn’t as big of a fan of GoldenEye as many critics and fans were; so, I can’t imagine what I’d think of the latter three. Maybe one day, but not today!

Today, I’m focusing my sights on the revitalization of the brand. See, in 2002, Die Another Day came out, and that movie was apparently crazy. TOO crazy. So crazy, in fact, that audiences and critics accused it of losing the plot, and the production studio in charge (Eon Productions) had a yearning to change direction. And their inspiration came from...a surprising place.

See, Joel Schumacher’s campy, over-the-top Batman films were basically wiped out by Christopher Nolan’s 2005 reinvention of the character in Batman Begins. Which is, in my opinion, a highly underrated classic, Seriously. And in 2005, this film was absolutely a smash-hit. Batman was cool again, which a lot of people never thought would happen in film. Eon saw this, and thought...how can we apply that to Bond?

Out with Brosnan...in with Craig.

The first of the new, darker, reinvented Bond films is planned for release in 2006, starring Daniel Craig as the suave, sophisticated spy. And the director of the film was selected to be...Martin Campbell? From GoldenEye? The guy who kinda sorta started the modern over-the-top Bond? Really? I mean, OK. The writers this time are different...except for one. I didn’t talk about the writers last time because I don’t like putting people on blast if I don’t gotta. This time...maybe. We’ll see.

If this Casino Royale is basically Bond Begins, I’m definitely interested. Maybe this’ll revitalize that Bond-love from the Connery days. Let’s find out! We’re also gonna look at the Bond checklist again!

Gadgets: better have more cool gadgets than GoldenEye, I swear...

Bond Girl: GoldenEye’s Natalya wasn’t bad, to be honest; let’s see who his Inevitable Love Interest is this time.

Villain: Alec Trevelyan had so much potential. I need my dastardly villain, let’s do this. Oh, and let’s throw the henchman in here, too. Xenia Onatopp was...a lot...but she was a memorable henchman, at least.

Music: Of course. GoldenEye’s theme was good, and we’ll see how 2006 does.

OK, movie time. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at an office building in Prague, where a man makes his way up to his office. Waiting there for him is, of course, James Bond (Daniel Craig). The man is Dryden, section chief at the British Embassy in Prague, whom M has accused of selling secrets, a big no-no. But Bond...isn’t a double-0 agent. Huh. You got me interested.

Apparently, agents get the two zeroes once they’ve killed two people on file. James hadn’t killed anyone...until recently. Which is when we get this.

OH SHIT

This is an absolutely BRUTAL fight. It’s not choreographed flashily, it’s not pretty...it’s rough. It’s intense. And it’s...oh my God, wow. Made me feel it. And what’s astonishing is that it’s SO short.

On learning this, Dryden tells him not to worry, the second one is...

...YOU GOT ME. I’M IN FOR THE FUCKIN’ RIDE

HOW??? How is it that in 3 minutes of screentime, I’m already more satisfied by Craig’s Bond than I was for the ENTIRETY of GoldenEye? That is masterfully done, right off the bat. WOW. We even get a smooth-as-silk segue into the classic bullet turret sequence, and that takes us right into the song and opening credits. And...wow.

youtube

Here’s the thing about Bond openings, as I mentioned last time: they were all directed by one guy up until GoldenEye, and were basically all silhouetted women with themes and scenes from the movie projected around them. The Brosnan movies followed suit, always having silhouetted women in one way or another. Die Another Day used CGI women and...a really bad Madonna song. It was...it is NOT GOOD, guys. Look it up, it’s the most 2002 thing I’ve ever heard.

But here’s the fin bit about Casino Royale. This is the first Bond movie opening with no women in it. Yeah. It’s the first one. And the song is Chris Cornell’s You Know My Name, and it’s good! Not sure it’s going in my soundtrack, though.

Finally, the opening credits sequence itself: it’s once again Daniel Kleinman doing it, and it’s actually inspired by the first James Bond book Casino Royale, which had already had a TV special and unofficial Bond movie made from it! The cover had a playing card motif, and the opening carries over that motif creatively. I really dig it, if I’m honest! Definitely a welcome break from the 44 years of Bond films preceding it.

Uganda! And we meet the villain of this film: Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen). And GODDAMN if that isn’t a Bond villain! He’s a banker, making a deal with a rebel leader, Steven Obanno (Isaach de Bankole), via their liason Mr. White (Jesper Christiensen). Setting up an attack by supplying Obanno with money, he sells his stocks of a company called Skyfleet, knowing that they’re about to fail.

Meanwhile, a ferret’s fighting an Asian species of cobra. In Madagascar. My zoology senses are EXPLODING, OH my God. So much wrong there. Anyway, there’s a bombmaker in the crowd watching the fight. He’s being tailed by Bond and another agent, Carter, who tips off the guy by being a bad spy. Bond chases him to a construction yard. What now, James?

Awesome. Why is this awesome when I said that the tank was dumb? Because at least it makes sense for a bulldozer to go haywire in a construction yard, just sayin’. Plus, this dude clearly isn’t the best, as he fires on construction workers and cops.

Eventually, this chase sequence brings us to the top of a crane, where this exchange happens.

I, uh...I love this movie already. That’s goddamn great.

The chase scene as a whole is also fantastic, as it continues off the bridge and into an abandoned building, then escalates into the streets, brings in law enforcement, and eventually ends with Bond at an embassy, facing down both the military and the bomb maker. He kills the guy, shoots some gas tanks, grabs the bomb, and then gets the hell out of there.

...Y’know what, that was fucking amazing, but he also almost certainly caused an international incident there. And I should be annoyed about that, but guess what! It makes sense! This is an inexperienced Bond, one who’s JUST been promoted to 00 status as 007, as the prologue explained. So, y’know what? I’m into it!

Cut to a yacht, like you do in a Martin Campbell Bond film. There, we have our villain, Le Chiffre, playing a card game. Also, he weeps blood. Yeah. HE WEEPS BLOOD.

OK, if that isn’t some Bond villain shit, I don’t know WHAT is. He’s also asthmatic, because I love it. I love it so much. He’s a mathematically-brilliant asthmatic that weeps blood. More, please.

He’s also a person aware of what Bond did at the embassy, as it’s already become an international incident! Thank you for showing consequences, movie! Damn! I love it! This has two additional consequences. One, Le Chiffre notes that the code “Ellipsis” used by the bomber may be soon to expire, indicating a connection between the two. And the second consequence? M’s pissed.

M! DAME JUDI DENCH! One of my favorite things about GoldenEye was bringing in Judi Dench as M, and she made it through the reboot! And she’s still as entertaining as she was before, calling Bond out for his stupidity, and explaining that she misses the Cold War.

In her apartment, M does her normal exposition schtick, and her interactions with Bond are fantastic here. She’s understandably angry at him, and gives him what for, but she’s also clearly impressed that he FIGURED OUT WHERE SHE LIVES, as well as her REAL NAME. Shows her opinion of Bond and aspects of Bond’s character in a single, masterful stroke.

Well. Goddamn. Done.

The Bahamas! Bond’s here to find Alex Dimitrios (Simon Abkarian), a Greek businessman who’s believed to have a connection with Le Chiffre himself. And, as James Bond is wont to do, he finds him at a party, playing cards. And here’s where the reinvention of Bond comes full circle.

See, Bond’s doing all the typical Bond things, yeah. But there are some differences present here, as well as some neat nuances. Bond isn’t wearing the suit, first of all. He actually hasn’t worn a suit the whole movie, which makes perfect sense for a spy. Suits aren’t exactly the least conspicuous thing in the world; bound to get you noticed if you don’t want to be.

And then, there’s the girl. This is Solange Dimitrios (Catherina Murino), the wife of Alex who was treated BADLY by him at the party. That gives her a reason to take Bond’s offer for a ride to his place, outside of just his raw animalistic charm that he seems to have in some of these movies. Look at that, already more chemistry than he had with Natalya in GoldenEye.

And yes, this results in her cheating on Alex. Is her cheating justified from a moral standpoint? No, of course it isn’t. And of course, this leads to the typical Bond-handsome-sex-GOOD sequence, but again, some nuance here! First of all, he doesn’t win her over with corny clever lines, like what we saw in GoldenEye multiple ties. Second, this is actually all an attempt to get some infomation from her about her husband. Bond might be enjoying it, but his womanizing here actually has a purpose. And that’s rare!

That’s further punctuated by the fact that he STRAIGHT UP LEAVES BEFORE ANYTHING HAPPENS. Yeah, she tells him that Alex just made his way to Miami, and he leaves! Dick move, yeah, but it makes sense! James isn’t here for pleasure, he’s here for work!

He follows Alex to a Bodies at Work exhibit (you know, the preserved and skinned cadavers put into poses that used to tour around the USA? I saw it in Times Square at the end of its popularity. A little ghoulish, maybe, but I think it’s pretty cool), where the two of them get in a very tense close-up knife fight in public.

Alex is dead, but not before passing off a package to someone else at the exhibition. Bond tails the guy to Miami International Airport, where the largest airplane in the world is set to be unveiled. Using the code sent to the bombers, Bond gets into the back, and goes to intercept the disguised bomber who’s set to blow up the SkyChonk (I mean it, that giant airplane is THICCC).

Time for another cool chase sequence! Some luggage is destroyed, along with a bus, the cops join in on the chase, an airplane is prevented from landing (making someone on that plane probably very upset), and Bond somehow manages to prevent the plane from blowing up. And it’s by the SKIN of his teeth, lemme tell you. Also, he blows up a dude with his own flashlight bomb.

Nice. Somehow, Bond isn’t arrested, and makes his way back to the Bahamas. And it looks like Solange isn’t the Bond girl after all. Because she was thought to be the information leak (which she was, to an extent), she was tortured to death. Whoof.

M’s in the Bahamas now, and the exposition continues. She’s done with Bond’s bullshit, and she plants a tracker under his skin. She explains that with the big boi plane destroyed, somebody stood a lot to gain financially from the stock crash to come. Except that the plane wasn’t destroyed, and that person lost $100 million by “betting the wrong way.”

That person, of course, was Le Chiffre, a manthematical genius and chess prodigy, who plays poker for fun, and plays the stock market with his clients’ money. Bond’s the best poker player in MI6 (a good addition that we already saw foreshadowed earlier! See what I mean?), and she’s sending him to a high stakes poker game that Le Chiffre’s looking to regain his money from.

Bond FINALLY dons his suit, and gets on a train in Montenegro, where he meets...

Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). THERE’S our Bond girl! Although, there’s a reference to Miss Moneypenny in their introduction, which is interesting. But Vesper is an agent for the British Treasury, supplying the money for the buy-in for the tournament. And their conversation on the train...wow. Now THIS is chemistry, seriously.

Vesper’s a great character, and she gives Bond NO quarter. She reads his character, and calls him out very accurately. They also explain why both Bond and Vesper are good at poker: it’s all about reading people. I’m genuinely impressed by how this movie is put together, and how well-thought out Bond is as a character. And this is the dimension I love to see in a Bond girl as well!

GODDAMN, I am in love with this movie. More coming in Part 2!

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spiritedquill · 3 years

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Sonny’s Home For Boys: Chapter 10

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10

AO3 | FFnet

Summary: He wasn’t staying. There was no way he could stay, even if Sonny treated him like one of his own. He had to get back to Sammy. His dad would come back and he’d go back to doing what he did best: hunting. Still… the mysterious blue-eyed boy named Castiel made it really hard to not want to stick around and never go anywhere else again.

Chapter 10:

The next few days, Dean kept his head down and gave Cas some space. At school, he worked quietly in chem lab and didn’t try to start anything. He was waiting for the right time.

He didn’t see Cas at Sonny’s, and when he asked about it Sonny told him he was staying at Charlie’s house for a few days. Dean was hoping he’d get the chance to talk to Cas at the wrestling meet on Thursday but Cas didn’t show. Dean still tried to focus on the team. He didn’t want to let them down.

Dean actually won a medal at the meet. He hadn’t even realized it was a big deal kind of event but he won all but one match and apparently it was some sort of tournament. Dean actually allowed himself a moment to feel proud of his achievement. He wondered if his dad would be proud of him.

Dean found Sonny after the winners all received their awards, unable to contain his bright grin.

“You did a good job, son,” the man said, smiling warmly and clapping Dean’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

Dean startled, looking up at Sonny with wide eyes. He tried to remember the last time he’d heard those words directed at him. Nothing came to mind.

“I, um…” Dean cleared his throat. “Thanks, Sonny.” If only he knew just how much Dean meant it.

“I’ll drive ya home, Dean.”

Nodding, Dean followed Sonny outside and hopped in the truck.

“I didn’t see Cas tonight,” Sonny commented, and Dean could tell he was going somewhere with this. “Any idea why he didn’t show?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “No, sir.”

“Dean,” Sonny said pointedly. “You really think I haven’t noticed something’s going on between you two? I may be getting old but I haven’t lost all my marbles yet.”

Dean sighed. “Dammit,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Is it really that obvious to everyone?”

Sonny smiled kindly. “Listen, son. I know how it is. You boys are stubborn and no one wants to make that first move but it’s gotta be done. And if you’re waiting for someone else to make it, you might be stuck waiting forever.”

Dean swallowed thickly, running his fingers through his hair. “What if he doesn’t wanna talk to me? I’m pretty sure he hates me by now.”

Sonny actually laughed and Dean frowned at him. The man shook his head and apologized. “Man, if you could see the way that boy looks at you when he thinks no one’s paying attention.”

Dean soaked that in. Everyone kept saying that Cas looked at him like… well, he didn’t know what. He wished he could see whatever it was that everyone else saw on Cas’s face. If it was anything like the way Dean thought he looked at Cas, then it really must have been something.

“Just talk to him, Dean,” Sonny said, as if it were that simple. “He might surprise you.”

Dean sighed. “He barely looks at me. How the hell am I supposed to talk to him?”

Sonny glanced at him, frowning at the sullen look on his face and the slouch of his shoulders. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” he said. “But Charlie’s house is just a block away from the school. He’s been staying there for a few days now. It’s the house on the corner by the flower shop. When you’re ready to take that first step, you can find him there.”

Dean stared at him for a moment, then swallowed and looked out the passenger window. They were both quiet for the rest of the drive, and Dean thought about what Sonny said. And what Robin said, and Benny. According to them, it was just as simple as talking to Cas. Telling him how he felt. Dean had never been very good at talking about his feelings, but if that was what it would take to get Cas to talk to him again… Well, he was still pretty sure he sucked at it, but he was willing to try.

…

The closer they got to the dance, the less sure Cas was that it was a good idea to go at all. He didn’t want to see Dean, dancing with Robin and flirting with Robin and touching Robin… Everything he wanted Dean to do with him.

But it was pretty hard to say no to Balthazar. And Charlie, too. They were going to the dance as a trio, and Cas begged them to go without him but they wouldn’t have it.

“Our funky bunch isn’t complete without the quirky introverted nerd,” Charlie told him matter-of-factly as they searched through her movie collection. Cas rolled his eyes and her expression turned serious. “Besides. The school board is apparently trying to ban gay couples from going to the dance together. So we’re going to rebel by going as a gay trio and they can’t do a damn thing. There’s going to be so much gay at this dance that they won’t know what to do.”

“Hell yes,” Balthazar called from the kitchen. “Tomorrow is going to kick ass!”

Cas couldn’t help but smile. “Fine, but I’m not dancing.”

“Not dancing my ass!” Balthazar shouted, outraged. There was a knock at the door and he frowned. “I’ll get it!” he called to Charlie and Cas, heading down the hall.

When he opened the door, he swore he could feel steam blowing out of his ears. “What the hell are you doing here, Winchester?” he spat out.

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and forced the words out of his mouth. “I need to talk to Cas.”

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Balthazar said, low and dangerous. He did his best not to let his voice rise in anger, not wanting Cas to hear from the other room. “You’ve got some nerve just showing up here after what you did.”

“I…” Dean hesitated. He knew he’d fucked up, but he couldn’t figure out exactly what Balthazar was referring to. He shook his head and met Balthazar’s eyes seriously. “Please, I need him to know that I--”

“Bye, Dean,” Balthazar said and closed the door in his face.

“Wait!” Dean knocked on the door again, insistent. Balthazar opened it again, his eyes dark, and Dean was growing desperate. “I never wanted to hurt Cas. I swear. I messed up.”

“You think?” Balthazar muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I get it, you don’t like me,” Dean continued, and Balthazar scoffed. “But I care about Cas. I just need him to know that I lo--” He stopped abruptly, the words unwilling to crawl up his throat. “I just need to talk to him.”

Balthazar actually seemed to consider it. But then he glared at Dean and began to close the door again. “You missed your chance,” he said before closing it and locking it. He saw Dean walk away, shoulders slumped, and he muttered something about a damn pity party before padding back to the kitchen. He grabbed the finished popcorn out of the microwave and poured both bags into a large bowl.

“Who was at the door?” Cas asked with a smile when Balthazar appeared in the living room.

Balthazar shrugged. “Just some sorry sap selling the ‘next big thing,’” he said, making air quotes. “Nothing to worry about.”

Cas barely listened to his response as he pulled The Princess Bride from the cabinet and held it up with a grin. Charlie and Balthazar groaned and he laughed. “What? You guys love this movie.”

“I did until you picked it for ten movie nights in a row,” Charlie whined. “How many times are you going to watch it before you get bored?”

Cas grinned. “There’s a shortage of perfect movies in the world…”

Charlie groaned, throwing her hands up. “Fine, you win!”

They settled in to watch the movie, Charlie on the reclining chair and Balthazar and Cas sharing the couch. As per usual, Cas sat tucked in against Balthazar’s side and Balthazar put his arm around Cas’s shoulders. Balthazar couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed Cas was. He actually looked happy. And that was how he knew he was right to turn Dean away. He wasn’t going to let Dean steal Cas’s smile away ever again.

…

Dean met Robin at her house around 5:00 p.m. on Saturday, dressed in an ironed-- yes, ironed-- blue button-down shirt and a pair of old dress slacks that used to be Sonny’s. It was pretty much the nicest thing he’d ever worn.

He had a single rose tucked behind his back-- Ash’s idea-- and used his other hand to knock on the door.

“One second!” came Robin’s muffled voice inside. Dean smiled and shifted nervously. Then he felt dumb for being nervous. They were just going as friends. They had agreed.

They had also agreed that kissing was awkward and not really something they should do with each other anymore. Dean was relieved as soon as Robin admitted that it felt forced to her, too.

It didn’t feel forced with Cas. But that was something to focus on another day.

Pulling him out of his thoughts, Robin answered the door with a grin. Dean smiled and brought the rose around from behind his back. Robin laughed and took the flower with a sweet smile. “It’s beautiful, Dean, thank you,” she said.

“Ready to go?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll just grab my sweater.” She disappeared for a moment and then they were on their way. “So, did you talk to Cas?”

Dean sighed. So much for not focusing on it.

“I tried, but Balthazar answered the door.”

Robin winced sympathetically. “Yeah, that couldn’t have gone well.”

“That’s an understatement,” Dean scoffed. “I mean, I guess I get why he hates me.”

Robin shrugged. “He’s just protective is all. He and Cas… there’s a lot of history there.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, debating whether or not he wanted to say what he was thinking. He decided it couldn’t hurt. “Were they ever… ya know…”

“No,” Robin said, almost too quickly, and Dean raised an eyebrow at her. She laughed sheepishly. “I mean… They’ve never dated. But there’s always been… Well, at least on Balthazar’s side.” She paused, biting her lip. “Cas never felt the same, though.”

Dean nodded. Some part of him felt relieved to hear that, but he shoved that thought away. “Well, that explains it, I guess.”

They walked in silence until they got to the school, close but not quite touching. When they got to the school, Dean paused outside the gymnasium. Robin looked at him, curious.

“Here, let me just…” He trailed off, taking the (thornless) rose from Robin’s hand. He broke off part of the step and tucked the flower in her hair. She laughed and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, they’re playing my favorite song!” she exclaimed, and Dean joined her reluctantly.

It took a few songs, but eventually Dean found himself having fun. He had never learned how to dance, but he did his best to spin Robin around a few times and keep in time with the music. He never realized he could have this much fun at a lame school dance.

Well, he was having fun, until he glanced at the entrance and his eyes fell on Cas. He was wearing a suit that didn’t quite fit him and his hair was ruffled a little more purposefully than it usually was. His blue eyes shone like actual fucking stars under the dim lights and Dean couldn’t breathe for a moment.

He almost dropped Robin before he came to his senses. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Robin looked to where he was staring and she smiled knowingly. “Just go talk to him.”

Dean shook his head, eyes wide. “Hell no. Balthazar will break my fucking nose.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “No he won’t. He’s protective but he also knows how much Cas cares about you.”

Dean frowned. “What?”

Shaking her head, Robin turned him around and started pushing him towards Cas. “Don’t worry about it. Just go!”

Dean stumbled a bit as she shoved him, but once he was moving he couldn’t stop his feet from taking him to Cas. Swallowing nervously, Dean walked up to Cas and cleared his throat softly.

Cas turned, startled, and Charlie and Balthazar looked at him with surprise and rage respectively. “Dean?”

“You’ve got some fucking nerve--”

“Bal,” Charlie cut in softly, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him from lunging at Dean.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean choked out. What the hell was he doing? “Look, I…” Dammit, Dean. Pull it together. “Can we talk?”

Cas looked like he was going to say something but he just nodded silently. He looked back at Balthazar and Charlie and smiled a bit. It’s okay, he told them without words. Balthazar relaxed a bit, but he wasn’t happy about it.

“Come on, let’s get some punch,” Charlie said, grabbing Balthazar’s hand and dragging him away.

Dean and Cas stood there in silence for a few moments. When Dean didn’t speak, Cas squinted at him. “Dean? Is everything alright?”

Dean took a steadying breath and shook his head. It was now or never, he thought. “No. It’s not.” Cas’s face was confused so Dean continued. “Can we go outside where it’s a little more… private?”

Cas nodded and followed Dean out to the courtyard. They walked for a bit before Dean stopped and turned to face him. “I… I miss you,” he managed in a shaky voice. “I miss talking to you. I miss… touching you, a-and flirting with you.” His voice cracked on the last word and he cleared his throat. “Dammit, I miss all of it, Cas.”

“Dean, I--”

“Cas, please, just--” Dean stared at him, pleading. “I gotta say this, okay? Before you walk away or whatever. I know I screwed up and I scared the hell outta’ you at the carnival and I understand why you hate me but--”

“Dean,” Cas cut in, more insistent this time, and Dean shut his mouth. “I don’t hate you,” he said, frowning. “You… you really thought I could ever hate you?”

Dean frowned, confused. “You… you don’t? But you… You ran away after…”

“I know,” Cas said, sighing. “I’m sorry. But I assure you it wasn’t because I hate you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Cas…”

“Dean, you have no idea,” Cas breathed out, shaking his head and staring down at the ground.

“I might,” Dean whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I… I might have some idea.”

Cas lifted his head and gasped quietly when Dean was standing only a few inches away. He was all too aware of Dean’s hand coming to rest gently on his neck, of his fingers burying themselves in his hair. His skin prickled under the touch and he stared up at Dean in stunned silence.

“Cas,” Dean murmured, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Cas could almost hear Dean’s heartbeat. “I… I want to…”

Cas nodded, an almost imperceptible motion but it was enough, and then Dean’s lips were on his. Cas made a soft noise in the back of his throat and Dean put his free hand on his hip, pulling him closer. He couldn’t seem to remember how to move for a moment, then he had the sense to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders, leaning into the kiss. Soft, warm lips, peppermint and cologne, gentle fingers under Cas’s suit jacket and over his white cotton shirt.

Too soon, Dean was breaking away to breathe, though he didn’t go far. His forehead was still pressed against Cas’s and his hands roamed a bit, to his jaw, to the small of his back, gentle and unsure. When Cas opened his eyes, Dean was staring at him, doubt and insecurity written all over his face. Cas simply couldn’t have that. He tilted his chin up and kissed Dean lightly, more brief this time, but it was enough to smooth the hard lines of Dean’s features into a relieved smile.

There was no way in hell Cas was running away from him, not this time. Not ever.

Cas’s hand fell to Dean’s side and their hands met in the middle to create a jumble of entwined fingers and slightly sweaty palms. Brilliant, giddy smiles graced both of their faces and Dean closed his eyes, laughing breathlessly.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” Cas whispered, and Dean felt his breath on his lips. “It was.”

“Do you…” Dean cleared his throat nervously, opening his eyes again. “Do you want to go dance with me?”

“I think I’d rather you walk me home,” Cas told him. “If that’s okay.”

Dean smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”

Neither of them could move for a while, as if they were afraid if they did it would all be over. Dean almost believed Cas would vanish as soon as he let him out of his sight.

As if reading his thoughts, Cas met his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to Dean’s for a few long seconds. “I already made that mistake once.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Me neither. I don’t wanna leave.”

Dean’s heart clenched. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. He honestly didn’t know if his dad was ever coming back for him, but he didn’t think he even wanted him to.

And when Cas actually beamed at him, he knew he wouldn’t care if his dad left him here forever.

Finally separating just enough that they could walk, they started heading back to Sonny’s. Dean didn’t let go of Cas’s hand for even a second.They frequently bumped shoulders and shared ecstatic glances as they walked in a comfortable silence. They hadn’t actually said much out loud, but they both thought that kiss had just about covered it.

Dean was so caught up in the feeling of Cas’s hand in his and the thrilled racing of his heart that he almost didn’t hear the rustling in the bushes behind them. Almost.

He wheeled around just in time to shove Cas out of the way and take a full swipe of sharp claws to the face. He groaned loudly through gritted teeth and stumbled back, instinctively going for his knife.

After taking a moment to assess the situation and get a better look at what had hit him, he could clearly see it was a werewolf. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Cas, get out of here!”

He prayed that Cas listened to him, but he couldn’t risk looking back to be sure. The werewolf, a crazed-looking dude with blond hair and a torn up shirt, lunged at him again and Dean swung his knife, grazing its arm. With an angry growl, the creature recoiled back and Dean took his shot. He jumped forward to stab the werewolf but fell short. The werewolf pinned him to the ground and he groaned, his knife knocked a few feet out of reach. It was all Dean could do to keep its claws and teeth from tearing him apart.

And all of that was fine, until he saw out of the corner of his eye that Cas was still standing there, frozen in place. “Cas, dammit, run!” Dean cried desperately. His heart dropped when the monster paused to look back at where Cas was standing. The werewolf jumped off of Dean and growled before lunging at Cas. Dean rushed after it, heart pounding with fear and adrenaline.

A second before it could lay a claw on Cas, the werewolf jolted to a halt with an agonized whine, falling to the ground with Dean’s silver knife stuck through its heart.

Dean fell to his knees shortly after. He was bleeding from a pretty deep cut on his upper arm, soaking his sleeve, but thankfully no bites.

“Dean?” Cas choked out. “What… what the hell was that? How did you…”

Dean looked up at him with a defeated expression. There was really no getting around it after that. “You want the truth?”

“Yes I want the truth!” Even as Cas said it, he wasn’t entirely sure he did. Still, he got down on his knees, level with Dean, and stared at him pleadingly. Scared, confused, but blessedly unharmed.

“That was a werewolf,” Dean said, and Cas laughed incredulously. When Dean’s face remained serious, though, his laugh was cut short. Dean wasn’t kidding.

“A werewolf,” Cas said slowly, and it felt silly coming out of his mouth. “How… How can that be a werewolf? It was… Well, it looked human. Kind of.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, common mistake. They don’t get all furry and wolf-out. But the name stuck because of the full moon thing I guess.”

Cas stared at him for a long moment, trying to wrap his head around that. He couldn’t. He shook his head a few times and frowned. “That’s impossible. There’s no such thing as werewolves. They’re just a myth.”

“Trust me,” Dean said, grunting softly in pain. “They’re very real. Oh, and ghosts, too. Vampires, shapeshifters, witches, the whole deal. All real.”

Cas shook his head again, baffled. He couldn’t believe this. “How… how do you know all of this? This-This is crazy!”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean huffed, laughing a bit then turning serious again. “But it’s the truth. I should know because I… Well, my dad and my brother and I, we hunt monsters. We save people.”

“You…” Cas frowned. “You hunt monsters.” Dean nodded. “And… every scary story I’ve ever heard, that’s all real?”

Dean managed a half smile. “Well, not everything. The loch ness monster is a hoax. Far as I can tell, anyway.”

Cas huffed out an incredulous laugh, but he could tell Dean was telling the truth. As insane as it was. “So… the guy at the carnival, was he…?”

Dean frowned. “I think he was another hunter. Someone my dad must have pissed off at some point.”

Cas let out a shaky breath, then shook his head. He still wasn’t sure if he believed it, but he knew one thing that was real, and that was that Dean was bleeding. “Are you okay to stand?” he asked, his voice unsteady. “We’ve gotta get you cleaned up.”

Dean nodded, letting Cas help him to his feet. “I’m fine, Cas, I promise. I’ve had worse.”

The thought made Cas nauseous. If Dean was telling the truth, then he was risking his life every day to help people. It was admirable, sure, but Cas knew it also meant Dean wouldn’t always come out alive.

“Let’s just get back to Sonny’s,” Cas said, trying to stay focused on taking care of Dean’s injuries. Glancing at the scratches across his cheek, Cas realized with a start that he was only alive because of Dean. “Why would you jump in the way like that? It could’ve killed you.”

Dean shrugged, wincing and holding his arm. He offered a hesitant smile. “I couldn’t let you get hurt.” As if it was as simple as that. Maybe it was, Cas thought. Maybe Dean really did care about him more than Cas had ever even imagined. “Alright, enough of that sappy bullshit,” he said with an awkward laugh. “I’m bleedin’ here.”

Cas smiled and took his hand, and they continued towards Sonny’s. As they walked, Cas couldn’t help himself. “Why tonight? I mean, why… I thought you were into Robin, not me. What made you stay away for so long?”

Dean glanced up at Cas. He was pretty sure he made his feelings pretty damn clear with that kiss, but he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. “I thought you wanted nothin’ to do with me,” he said gruffly. “I figured you wanted space.”

“It’s more than that,” Cas said skeptically, studying him. Dean shifted uncomfortably. “What were you so afraid of?”

“I… I wasn’t…” No, he couldn’t lie to Cas. Not anymore. Not about this. Sighing, he grabbed Cas’s arm and pulled him in so they were inches apart. Cas gasped softly, staring up at him. “Cas… After you kissed me, I didn’t know what to think. I thought it was just… getting caught in the moment or some crap. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to kiss you again, I wanted to hold you, I wanted to tell you…” he trailed off. He knew once he said the words there would be no going back. “I was so goddamn terrified, Cas, because I wanted to tell you that I… I…”

“Tell me what, Dean?” Cas whispered, inching closer.

“I… wanted to tell you that I lo--”

A familiarly loud engine rumbled from about a block away, back at Sonny’s, and Dean’s heart sank as his words trailed off. All thoughts of telling Cas that he… well, telling him how he felt, flew out the window. His dad was back, and Sammy…

All thoughts of being selfish and staying -- because fuck did he want to stay -- left his mind when he thought of his brother. Sam needed him, and it was Dean’s responsibility to take care of him. Nothing that Dean wanted was as important as that.

“I… I have to go, Cas. I’m so sorry.” He pulled away, dropping Cas’s hand, and turned around so he didn’t have to see the hurt on Cas’s face.

“Dean, wait!” Cas pleaded, “Where are you… Dean!”

He grabbed Dean’s hand and then they were standing face to face again. Dean didn’t know how to tell Cas that he didn’t want to go, but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t know how to tell him that he wanted nothing more than to stay there with Cas and never go anywhere else ever again. He didn’t know how to say that he couldn’t have a normal life and he couldn’t do that to Cas. He didn’t know how to tell him that he loved him.

A broken, desperate breath fell from Dean’s lips and then he was grabbing Cas’s face and kissing him with everything he had. Cas melted against him and his hands landed on Dean’s hips, fingers curling into his shirt. Dean moaned into his mouth, soft and wanting and heart-wrenchingly sad.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the kiss was over, and Dean was forcing himself to pull away from Cas. “I… I’m sorry,” he whispered, not meeting his eyes. “I have to go.”

And with that, Dean was gone. And, somehow, Cas just knew that he wasn’t coming back.

@brangaene @gggghik @sold-my-soul-for-spn

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel rp #dean winchester #castiel novak #sonny's home for boys #my fic

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cousinmarcustalkswrestling · 3 years

Text

A Cousin’s Review - NJPW Wrestle Kingdom 15 Night One

January 4, 2021-

Hiromu Takahashi vs El Phantasmo - Winner faces Taiji Ishimori for Junior Heavyweight Title on Night 2

Hiromu had a spectacular Best of the Super Juniors run that ended with the arguable match of the year against El Desperado. Then he challenged the winner of the Super J Cup to a match. That winner ended up being El Phantasmi, who is basically the junior heavyweight version of Jay White. That’s even more appropriate considering Phantasmo is also in Bullet Club.

Phantasmo starts off going for straight heat by calling out Jushin Liger so he can put his Super J Cup jacket on him, but Hiromu dropkicks him into the rail then hits him with a big ol senton. Phantasmo flips out of a sunset bomb attempt then kills Hiromu with his own sunset flip powerbomb to the floor. This is my first exposure to El Phantasmo and I gotta say that he’s really creative. He does a cool ropewalk moonsault to the outside and drapes Hiromu across the ropes and gives him a back senton. Hiromu has good comebacks, so Phantasmo plans to cut it off by breaking Hiromu’s fingers. Then he shouts out Bullet Club leadership of the past by attempting Styles Clashes and the One Winged Angel. Hiromu falters a few times, but eventually catches Phantasmo with a snap rana and gets the win.

Hiromu is ELITE right now, like arguably best wrestler in the world. Phantasmo was great and this had great psychology. Great opener.

***3/4

Dangerous Tekkers (CHAMPS) vs Guerrillas of Destiny - Tag Team Titles

The Guerillas won World Tag League to set this up and they beat the Tekkers during the tournament. This was a good fun brawly match. The GOD controlled most of it and isolated Taichi. When Zack was in, he made it more interesting with his outrageous wrestling and counters. GOD set Zack up top for the super powerbomb, but Sabre locks in a Guillotine. Sabre screams at Taichi that this is the Tokyo Dome and instructs him to do a Tower of Doom. GOD eventually use the same iron….thing to crack Taichi with and they win the titles. Good, fun tag match, Would’ve been better with more Zack.

***1/4

Kenta (HOLDER) vs Satoshi Kojima - US Title Challenge Briefcase

Jon Moxley being in the states has basically made the Challenge briefcase the interim US title. Kenta helped the Guerillas screw FinJuice out of the World Tag League tournament, so Juice Robinson challenged Kenta for the briefcase, but then he suffered an orbital bone injury. Instead of Juice’s partner, David Finlay, challenging Kenta, the legendary Kojima was named the replacement. Weird, but whatever. No way in hell that Kojima beats Kenta, but it wasn’t worked like that anyway. Kojima looked solid and got in some signature offense like machine gun chops. Kenta never looks like he’s gonna lose, but its a solid intense match. Kojima DDTs Kenta on the apron at one point. He goes for his lariat, but Kenta kicks his arm away and run through his normal offense. Kenta tried to hit Kojima with the briefcase, but Kojima knocked it away with a lariat. That ain’t enough though because Kenta runs through him and ends it with GTS.

**3/4

Hiroshi Tanahashi vs Great O’Khan

I kinda dreaded this match, but it’s not bad. O’Khan doesn’t have the breakout performance that would justify him being in this spot, but he’s also not as awful and boring as he was against Okada. He has a few interesting moments like when Tana goes to skin the cat, but he just chops Tana’s hands. He also grabs a nice kneebar out of nowhere. Tana sells like only he can and makes his great comeback, but ends up in the iron claw. Khan gets frustrated and grabs a chair, but Tana ends up with the chair. He actually considers using it, but he tosses it to the side and drills Khan with a Dragon Suplex then ends it with two High Fly Flows. Tana plugged him right into the Tana formula and Khan didn’t mess it up, so this is just solid.

**3/4

Kazuchika Okada vs Will Ospreay

I was actually anticipating this match, just because its Wrestle Kingdom and with Ospreay’s heel turn, I figure they would really let loose and go balls to the wall. Color me disappointed. Okada teases just wrestling Will, but eventually starts slugging him. Okada is on fire with a big tope, but Will dropkicks him to the floor and takes over. All through the G1, Will’s matches were hurt because he was still trying to his flippy junior stuff and it didn’t work with his new character. Here, he has basically eliminated all of his babyface offense, but he hasn’t replaced it with anything interesting. Plus this match is 30+ minutes which means we hit a big lull while Will controls.

Things kick up a notch and actually feel like the intense grudge match this should be. After a strikefest, Will gets crazy and suplexes Okada onto a table on the outside. He goes for the Oscutter on the apron, but Okada counters to a Tombstone on the apron, then Okada instantly pulls him in the ring for a rainmaker, but Will kicks out. Will escapes another rainmaker, but ends up in the money clip. He gets to the ropes and after a turnbuckle battle, Will hits a big ol Spanish Fly. Will hits the Oscutter, but it only gets two. Deep into the match, Okada is putting over the intensity of the feud by just slapping and kicking Will. Will ducks another Rainmaker and goes for a Super Oscutter, but gets dropkicked out of the sky. Will escapes the Money Clip again and steals Okada’s moves, hitting the Tombstone, the rainmaker pose, and then the Rainmaker to an astonishing reaction, but Okada kicks out. Ospreay goes to end it with Stormbreaker, but Okada spins out, hits a Michinoku Driver and then the true Rainmaker for the win.

Once they decided to kick it up a notch, this was really fun, but definitely too long and Ospreay still needs to improve as a heel. Good match, but disappointing. Their G1 29 match is still their gold star.

***1/4

Tetsuya Naito (CHAMP) vs Kota Ibushi - Heavyweight and Intercontinental Title

New Japan has caught a lot of flack for how they’ve handled this three way situation between Naito, Ibushi, and Jay White. I haven’t really known what to think, but as soon as this match started, I realized that it worked because I didn’t know who would win and that instantly increases the drama. I also have never seen a match between these two, but I heard they have a reputation for being a little rough (LOL).

They start with just some solid wrestling until Ibushi ranas Naito to the outside. Ibushi wants the Golden Triangle moonsault, but Naito is able to leap onto the apron, avoid Ibushi’s kicks and give him a German suplex on the floor. Let the violence commence people. Naito goes right after Ibushi’s previously injured neck with neckbreakers on the floor and all types of savagery. Ibushi ends up on the apron and catches Naito charging with an insane snap rana that sends Naito flying off the apron. Thats a suuuuuuuper early candidate for spot of the year.

Now, the momentum has swung to Ibushi’s favor and he tries a German suplex from the apron to the inside, but Naito escapes by targeting the neck and delivers a crazy super poisonrana. Naito drills Ibushi with a hard Destino, but it only gets two. His next Destino attempt is countered to a Bastard Driver. We get an awesome strikefest and Ibushi powers up into the Golden Powerbomb. I love how furiously Naito tried to punch his way out of that, but he still got drilled. Ibushi immediately transitions from the powerbomb to Kamigoye, but Naito kicks out. Naito avoids the Phoenix splash and gets another Destino, but only for two. Ibushi flips out of a suplex lands a hard kick and another Kamigoye, but Naito kicks out AGAIN!! Naito lands Valentia, but Ibushi spins out of another Destino attempt, lands a brutal V Trigger and immediately hits one final Kamigoye to end it and KOTA IBUSHI IS YOUR MOTHAFUCKING DOUBLE CHAMPION BAYBAY!!

Match was awesomely built, brutal with a crazy hot ending. Better than both of the Wrestle Kingdom main events from last year. Awesome main event and MY BOY IBUSHI DID IT BAY BAY!!

****1/2

OVERALL: My favorite kinda show, all killer no filler. Ok I’m overstating it, because it ain’t all killer, but nothing here was bad, it starts with a banger and ends with an even bangier banger. Okada/Ospreay disappointed me, but it was still good overall. Damn good show.

OVERALL RATING: 3.5 OUTTA 5

#njpw #wrestle kingdom #reviews #wrestling #2021 #kota ibushi #tetsuya naito #kazuchika okada #will ospreay #kenta #satoshi kojima #guerillas of destiny #dangerous tekkers #zack sabre jr #taichi #hiromu takahashi #el phantasmo #hiroshi tanahashi #great o khan

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

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Chubby Arthur with a chubby female reader. Modern times. Can be smutty af. (Haha I’m kinda slutty for my Artie). He’s teaching her about riding horses and next thing you know.....

I’m sorry this took so long! This week has been weird. Anyways, here you go! BTW, this piece made me miss my own horseback riding lessons.

Warnings: smut

You sigh a little nervously. Are you really ready to do this? What if you make a complete fool of yourself? What if he laughs at you? You’ll probably look ridiculous the entire time. What if you enjoy it too much and you make some goofy face? God, this was a bad idea, you tell yourself.

“You ready?” Arthur asks, walking up to you.

You open your eyes, swallowing. Okay, deciding to take horseback riding lessons was a mistake, you’re sure of that now. But why in the hell did your instructor have to be so damn good looking?

You graduated college a year ago and now that you have a good paying job and are fairly stable in your living situation, you decided to go looking on the internet for some things to do with your free time. Some new hobby to develop. Something active. You looked at maybe doing archery or just plain old hiking, and while you liked doing them, they weren’t enough to really keep you going for a long time. Besides, your archery instructor kept pushing you to buy your own gear and that shit’s expensive, so you dropped it. Then you ran into an ad about horseback riding lessons and the fees weren’t out of your range like a lot of the others.

You pat the horse’s neck that you’ve just tied up to the post. She’s a dapple gray mare named Willow. Arthur explained when you first got here that she’s the best with beginners. He has five horses total, including a massive iron gray draft horse. He showed you how to interact with Willow, how to put a halter on and then how to tie her to the post outside his tack room. That’s where you are now after he left to grab some grooming tools.

“Ma’am, you ready?” he says again. You finally nod, feeling like a damn fool. He’s an attractive man, more on the plump side but you can tell he’s still very fit. You’re chubby yourself, a struggle you’ve had for most of your life. It’s also been one of your biggest insecurities. There’s no way in hell this man finds you attractive. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly polite and has a gruff voice, the kind that could turn you to butter.

He hands you a grooming brush and shows you how to brush Willow. Then he shows you how to clean Willow’s feet with a pick and then has you do it. She’s a patient and obedient horse, to which you’re grateful. When she’s all brushed and clean, Arthur comes out with a blanket and a big saddle. He shows you how to position the blanket and then throws the saddle over her back. Then he shows you how tight to put the girth around Willow’s belly and how to measure and adjust the stirrups. Then he shows you how to bridle her. He undoes everything and tells you to repeat it. He’s a firm believer in hands-on learning, which you appreciate.

After she’s saddled up, you lead Willow outside with Arthur. He’s glad you had the knowledge to buy yourself some gear before showing up, mostly the riding boots and a helmet. He admits he never wears one himself, but he grew up on horses so he’s pretty confident in his riding skills.

“Never go without a helmet until you know how to ride backwards, forwards and upside down,” he says.

In the round pen, he teaches you how to mount. When you’re finally on Willow’s back, he asks how it feels. It feels good, even if it is taller than you thought it’d be. Arthur just has you walk around the round pin for the next half hour so you can get used to the horse moving beneath you and get your balance. He’s surprised how well you’re able to balance yourself.

Over the lesson, you keep catching him looking at you, but you can’t tell if he’s just making sure you don’t fall off or get ahead of yourself. It’s probably just wishful thinking, but you swear he seems to always have a small smile when he’s looking at you. Like you said, there’s no way he finds you attractive.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you have a few more lessons and have graduated to trotting and doing simple work like pirouetting and other types of turns. Arthur says it’s all important so you can really learn how to feel your horse and build that unique bond of trust between horse and rider. It’s tough work that always leaves you sweating a little, not to mention sore. After your first lesson, you could barely walk normally because of how saddle sore you were.

You swear Arthur’s been flirting with you a little more and more each time you’ve come for a lesson. Banter between you comes easily and you learn a lot about each other. However, by your sixth lesson, you struggle to look him in the eye thanks to the fact you’d had a wet dream about him. It had been amazing too, the things he did to you were just wonderful. You’re determined to keep it a secret.

The tenth lesson, as you’re unsaddling Willow, Arthur strolls up to you, looking nervous. Oh no, he’s about to tell you he can’t continue teaching you for some reason. Is he about to sell his ranch? Is he selling Willow?! You love Willow, she’s a fantastic horse. Oh no, what is he about to announce? You’ve come so far with these lessons, they’ve been an incredible amount of fun.

He rubs his neck nervously. “Hey, uh, Y/N. I was wonderin’, well…” He stutters a bit. “I understand if you ain’t interested or if you got plans. And I certainly don’t wanna step on any toes if you already got someone, but…” He finally looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes. They were the first thing you noticed about him. “I’d love to take ya out to dinner. Tomorrow, if you’re free?”

You must be tired or hungry or dehydrated or something. No way in hell did Arthur Morgan, your horse riding instructor and certified hottie, just ask you out on a date. There’s no way in hell! You must take too long to process this because he begins to stammer again. “I didn’t mean…. If ya already got a boyfriend, or a girlfriend even, I certainly don’t wanna intrude. Sorry if I offended ya.”

He begins walking away, his face red. You come to your senses, realizing you didn’t make it up. “Arthur, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I thought… well, I thought I was just hallucinating or something. To be honest, I’ve wanted to ask you out forever but just… didn’t think you’d want to.” Great, now you’re the one rambling. “Arthur, I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

You’ve never seen him smile so wide. “Well, that’s great, Y/N.” The two of you set time and details and then you say goodbye. His eyes are sparkling when you leave and you feel like you’re floating the entire way home. You can’t believe it. A date with Arthur Morgan! He’s gotta have dozens of women drooling at his feet, you know he teaches other people to ride. You’ve seen a couple of them. So why in the hell did he ask you out? You’re just a normal girl, there’s nothing about you that you find interesting. Not in personality and definitely not in looks.

The next day, you try to find something nice to wear. Not anything too formal of course, but something nice. You end up just putting on a clean pair of jeans and a tank top with a plaid button down shirt, leaving it open. There. A safe, nice and casual look that still says you know how to have fun.

Arthur knocks on your door and when you open it, you can’t help but let your mouth fall slightly open. He was always good looking before but now he’s down right sexy. He’s in a pair of jeans, his signature cowboy boots, and a blue plaid button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shirt’s only buttoned up to halfway up his chest, revealing some of the hair growing on his chest. You remember your sex dream involving him and resist the urge to just rip his shirt open. You doubt you’ll ever get to that point with him.

At dinner, the two of you get on famously. You chat at the table for well over two hours. But after having a few drinks, your resolve to not be overly sexual towards him is beginning to slip.

“I think I need more riding lessons,” you say, slurring slightly. “Maybe you can help me more?”

His eyes spark at you, a dark look in them and he wears an illegally sexy grin. “Oh, I can certainly do that, darlin’.”

Okay, you’re already hot for this guy. Jesus, you’re not even intimate with him and he’s already pushing your buttons. You think somewhat woefully about how you’ll probably end up feeling lonely while using your vibrator again later tonight.

However, when you walk out with Arthur to his truck, slightly tipsy, he stops you and then slowly bends down and kisses you. His lips are like fire. They awaken some kind of heat within you that has nothing to do with sex. It feels incredible and you find yourself wanting more when he pulls away. You reach up, tangling your hands in his hair, and kiss him back. Your hand wanders down from his head to his chest where you start rubbing his collarbone, your fingertip barely touching it. His response is undeniable and he groans. “Your house?” he says, his breath picking up. You just nod and kiss him again.

The next thing you know, you’re in his truck and he’s speeding down the road towards your house. Now is the time for you to start freaking out. Are you really going to sleep with him on the first date? Technically, you’ve spent a lot of alone time with him, but they were never dates. Was this his goal all along? Just getting you into bed and having fun and then, next thing you know, he’s just your instructor again or worse, he disappears? Should you be doing this?

He must be able to tell you’re freaking out because he reaches over and takes your hand. “Sweetheart, you feelin’ okay?” You look at him. “I, um, I don’t want you to think I do this on every first date, Arthur. Because I don’t. Hell, I’ve never fooled around with anyone until after our third date.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to kiss it. “I understand. And I don’t want ya to think I’m tryin’ to take advantage of you.”

He pulls up to your house and he stops, but doesn’t get out. “Listen, we don’t have to if you don’t feel ready.” Okay, you’re already hard core falling for him. First, he’s hot, he’s sweet and kind, and now he’s patient and he doesn’t wanna push you. You reach over and kiss him. “Thank you, Arthur. I think… if we did it tonight, we’d probably end up regretting it.”

He nods and then walks you to the door. There, he gives you another kiss. This one’s more passionate, yet not pushy. In it, he says he’s already crazy about you.

After the first date, the riding lessons have changed only slightly. There’s more touching and kissing, plus Arthur doesn’t hide his flirting anymore. You’ve gone on a few more dates but still haven’t done the nasty with him. He hasn’t pushed for it either, but you can tell you’re getting close to breaking that.

During one riding lesson, he shows you a slightly tricky maneuver and you try to copy it but end up just slipping off the horse and falling into the sand. He runs over, asking if you’re okay. You are, the only thing injured is your pride. He chuckles when you get up, clearly unhurt. “Now you’re a real cowgirl!” he says with a laugh. “Falling off is a right of passage, sweetheart.”

“I just lost my balance is all,” you say, brushing your jeans off. The sexual tension throughout the day has been stronger than ever. He touches your shoulder. “Maybe you need a little more practice,” he says.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing him, your arms wrapped around him. He groans against your lips and you reach down, squeezing his crotch. It immediately grows hard. Arthur pushes you away just slightly and he grabs your hand, running into the stable and into an empty stall where he stores hay and sawdust.

As soon as he gets there, you’re attacking him. The first thing you do is rip open his shirt. Fuck, he’s even hotter than you thought. You start kissing his chest and stroking his nipples. He tips his head back as one hand wanders down to his belt and undoes it. In your desperation to see him unsheathed, you fumble with his belt. Eventually you get it undone and his pants unbuttoned. You reach in and grab him, his length already hard. His hips buck a little.

“Hey,” he groans. “Let me give you another riding lesson.”

You shiver and nod. He lifts up your shirt and rips it off and then unclasps your bra. He stares at your naked breasts for a moment and then you reach down and strip off your pants. Now you’re completely naked in front of him. He smiles as he studies your body and then he strips his own clothes off.

Once you’re both exposed, he lays down on his back, his cock standing erect. He gestures down at it. “Come on, cowgirl. Time for your lesson.”

You almost giggle at how cheesy he is, but you comply. You kneel down, straddling his hips but keeping his length away from your slit. You kind of wish there was something in the terms of foreplay. He must sense your hesitation. His hands latch onto your hips and he starts rubbing up your sides and finds your breasts. You tilt your head back as he strokes your nipples, making the already stiff nubs perk out even more.

Eventually one hand leaves your breast and slides down between your legs. “Damn, you’re wet,” he says. You sigh in pleasure and then he slips a finger into your soaking slit, making you yelp. He tickles you, your breath picking up. You involuntarily twitch on him and then he pushes a finger into you. “Think you’re ready, cowgirl,” he says after a few moments of you fucking his hand.

You nod and sit up a little, grabbing his stiff cock. You pump it a few times and then angle your hips directly above it, settling down onto him. He feels good as he fills you up. He goes in deep and then, without warning, he begins pushing himself in and out of you. You can’t help but moan with every push and bounce along with him, creating even more friction between the two of you. You look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are filled with lust. He’s left his old hat on. To be expected, you suppose. You’ve never seen him with it off.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growls. You gasp again as he puts his hand back to your slit, tickling your clit. He’s the first man you’ve done this who has actually taken the time to make sure you get your pleasure.

“Keep going,” you squeak. “Oh God, Arthur, it feels good.” He stimulates you again and again, your hips wildly bucking as his cock pulses within you. He pushes himself up a little harder, brushing your spot as he slides his finger across your clit again. You clench your toes and groan loudly, turning into jelly on him. “Good girl,” he says in a deep voice. “You’re alright. Easy.”

Just as you’re coming down and about to put yourself back together, he flips you onto your back so he can really pound himself into you. He’s going so hard you’re sure it’ll hurt in the morning, but you don’t care. He feels amazing. You clutch his back, leaving behind small scratches as he thrusts again and again, chasing his own end. After a short time, he finally pulls out and releases onto your thighs and the hay beneath you. “Shit,” he says when he’s finished spilling out.

You cup his cheek and smile up at him. “Did I do good?” you ask. He smiles and kisses you. “I think we might need another lesson.”

#red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #modern arthur #awkward asks #rdr2 fanfic

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ceruleanmusings · 4 years

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hope floats | stiles x perrie

Of course I can’t have Tessa without Perrie so here’s a gift for @sgtbuckyybarnes! I love seeing your edits on my dash (you’re hella talented!) and I love your writing and your OCs and you so I hope this puts a smile on your face!

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“You know, when you invited me over, I thought we were actually going to hang out,” Perrie commented, placing a hand on her hip.

Stiles blinked at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows crinkling. “We are hanging out.”

“Yeah, but I thought that meant playing Mario Kart or watching Star Wars. Not painting a room.” She waved her arm around the room in question, careful not to touch the wall she’d laid a layer of primer over. Sniffing, she brushed the sleeve of the blue flannel shirt hanging off her frame. The scent of Stiles wafted off the arm of the shirt, kicking out the pungent scent of fresh primer. It was a nice change from the burning in her nostrils; soothing and warm and woodsy.

“If I had asked you to help me paint, you wouldn’t have come.”

Scoffing, Perrie crossed her arms. “Yes I would.”

“Sure Pear.” Stiles rolled his eyes and turned away from the wall he had been working on. Perrie stepped back as he lowered and shifted the large roller in his hands, pressing the foam tip against the paint tray by his feet. Reaching back, he messed with the bill on his ball cap by his neck; the band across his forehead shifted from side to side. “Look, my dad’s been working long hours lately. He keeps saying that he’s going to get this done but then something comes up and…” he blew out a breath. His freckled cheeks bulged at the effort behind it.

Perrie licked her lower lip, dropping her hand from her hips. “Papa Stilinski still eating badly?”

Stiles snorted. “I found a package of hostess cupcakes in the back of his closet.”

“What were you doing in his closet?”

Stiles’s eyes shifted for a second. “Well…well I wasn’t snooping!” At the incredulous look on Perrie’s face, he continued, “I was looking for something.”

“For what?”

“The cupcakes.” Perrie laughed and Stiles rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Perrie, I’m leaving in a few months. Dad hasn’t been alone and…” His long, slim fingers drummed against the shaft of the paint roller and the tip of his tongue swiped against his lower lip. When she spoke again, his words were so soft she almost missed it, “I just want to make sure he’s here when I come back.”

Clicking her tongue, Perrie stepped forward, making sure to lift her feet so as not to trip over the tarp covering the carpeted floor. Once close, her hand clapped down on his shoulder and she gave it a squeeze, smiling up at him as he looked at her beneath his unfairly thick lashes. “I’m sure he wouldn’t dream of anything else, Frecklebutt.”

Stiles let out a little sarcastic laugh and, before she could move, he lifted the paint roller and dabbed it against her nose. Stepping backward, she let out a noise of indignant shock but the smile curling on her lips and the sparkle nestling in her eye let her amusement shine through.

“Cheap shot, Stilinski!” she said, wiping the paint off her nose. It smeared a bright white streak against the sleeve of the flannel. For a second her nose wrinkled and she felt guilty for soiling it but then she shrugged. Stiles had yanked it out of his closet and thrown it at her to use it and she was sure more paint than that would end up on it anyway. She didn’t let herself think too long about the fact that he let her wear one of his most prized flannel shirts without a second thought. There was nothing to unpack there. Really. Clearing her throat, she looked around the empty room.

It was bare of everything that used to fill the office, leaving the very dark gray color behind. Even the bright shaft of sunlight from the blind-less windows didn’t seem to help brighten the place up. It still felt cold and drab; boring and unexciting.

“I got this powder blue color. Think it might be a bit too bright but, uh, the people at the store said it would be fine,” he replied. He lifted his chin, jerking it towards the four cans stacked in the corner closest to the door. A wireless speaker docking station sat atop of it, waiting to be put to use.

“Powder blue, huh?” Perrie lifted her eyebrows. “Any particular reason for that?”

“It’s…uh…it’s a nice color?”

“Do you want to make sure your dad doesn’t forget you or are you planning on haunting him while you’re at college?” She had to ask; he wouldn’t be that forthcoming with his feelings otherwise. And she knew, deep in her gut, that it wasn’t a coincidence he picked the same color as his jeep for the color of his dad’s office. She’d spent so much time in that jeep, riding around town with Scott and Stiles and sometimes just Stiles that she could recognize the color down to the smallest bit of pigment.

Talk about them leaving, about graduation coming around the corner came in small bursts. He’d always bring it up during a comfortable lull, when they were laying on the floor of his room after stuffing their faces with pizza, when they were sitting in his jeep when he’d dropped her off, taking her time to get inside. Because moments like these, when it was just her and Stiles, were few and far between.

Not that she particularly noticed. It’s just, well, it had always been the three of them: Scott, Perrie, and Stiles. And soon it wouldn’t be. Scott would cart off to UC Davis, Stiles was going across the country, and Perrie was shooting for University of Georgia (they had a good criminal justice track). And, sure, maybe she and Stiles would be closer, mere states away, but…it was states away. If she wanted to see him, she could just hop on her bike and take a ten-minute ride to see what he was up to. In a few short months she’d have to plan meetups in advance. Who does that?

Beacon Hills spoiled her, that’s for sure.

Not that she’d ever say it out loud, but it was…nice. Being able to talk to him was nice. Being able to see him every damn day since kindergarten was nice. Cracking jokes and staying up conducting research and trying to study as he rambled on about something new he learned about reptile copulation when he got distracted by Wikipedia was the best! If she didn’t even want to think about leaving, she couldn’t imagine how Papa Stilinski was feeling.

And they were friends.

Just friends.

“Well, let’s hope with how calm things have been lately that it’s not the latter,” Stiles said.

Perrie squinted at him, focusing in on the weight to his words. “You sound disappointed,” she ventured.

“I’m not.” Right. And I’m the next in line for the throne. Her sarcastic thought must have read on her face because he sighed and continued, “I mean, it’s nice to not have to worry about what’s going to try and kill me when I wake up in the morning but….”

“But?”

“I don’t know. It’s…like…sometimes I don’t know what to do. To help or be useful if…there’s nothing to be useful for. It’s dumb, I know.”

“Hey, you’re not dumb. I get it. C’mon, I’m not like Scott and the others. I’m just human, like you, and I’m not some gunslinger like Braeden or an archery master like Allison. We just…gotta do the best with what we can. And you’re the best at figuring things out.”

“S’not that hard, not when people leave such obvious clues…”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you help and you matter. Just because you’re leaving Beacon Hills doesn’t mean you don’t. You’re going onto bigger and better things. You’re going to Quantico for fuck’s sake. People from here don’t do that unless they’re meant to do big things.”

“Well, gee, Pear, don’t get all sentimental on me.”

“I’m not, doofus.” She made a show of lightly punching him on the shoulder, knocking it backwards. “I’m just trying to make you be less stupid. I should be getting paid for that overtime work. In fact, I should be getting paid for this too. I’m giving up some much needed girl time due to your lies.”

“I’m planning on feeding you. Is that not enough?”

“No. I may get lung damage from these fumes.”

“Can’t make things easy for me, can you?”

“Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?”

“You know it’s rude to have it at someone else’s expense.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk?”

Exasperation radiated off Stiles in waves. “Shut up and help me paint, okay? I’m definitely not going to pay you to stand around and rag on me all day.”

“You’re lucky I’m available for that for free,” she said and flashed a cheeky grin. He shot a mocking smile back at her and shook his head.

Still grinning, she turned and approached the speaker system. She picked up his abandoned phone on the ground and swiped her thumb against the screen, quickly completing his lock pattern. Clicking her tongue, she brought up the music player and flicked her thumb through artists until she settled on something with a happy hum. She set the phone into the docking station, turned up the volume, and bobbed her head to the beat of the music, a nice fuse between retro surf-rock and ska with a touch of punk thrown ontop.

“These guys are good,” she said over the undulating guitars; she could almost see the ebbing and flowing waves in her mind. The blue paint Stiles was pouring helped.

“Yeah? I think so too. Just found ‘em online. Scott pointed me in their direction. They’re called Slow Kids at Play.”

Whipping out her phone, Perrie quickly typed the band’s name in google. “They’ve been around since 2009…call themselves musical geniuses…huh.” She brought her phone closer to her face, nearly going cross-eyed as she examined the screen. “Drummer’s pretty cute.”

“Let me see.” She barely had time to react when Stiles all but snatched the phone out of her hand. Her cry of protest was buried beneath the flourishing chorus. And so she stood back and waited, studying the side of his face, the furrow to his brows, the purse of his lips followed quickly by the clench of his jaw, sharpening the strong outline and…

Hmmm!

Her lips all but curled like a Cheshire cat. She briefly ran her tongue against her lower lip and crossed her arms. “You know, it’s interesting. I didn’t think your eyes could change color like that.”

“What?” Stiles’s head whipped up. “Change color, waddya…? Oh no. No. No no no, this can’t be happening to me. I knew I should have looked into that damn dog biting me but Scott said it was just scared. Because who wouldn’t be scared at having a needle shoved in their ass? Okay, okay…” he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, his shoulders all but hovering by his ears. “Just…just rip off the bandage. What color are they? Gold? Red? Orange?”

“Green,” Perrie replied.

Silence. Then—

“Oh, god!”

“Stiles!” Her utterance of his name was wrapped up in a laugh that had him looking at her in a way only he could muster: half apprehension, half confusion, with one eye squinted and the other widened to owlish levels. “They’re…they’re green!” she wheezed. “Like envy.”

“I…what?” Stiles shook his head, looked at the phone in his hand, back to her, back to the phone, and then to her again. “I’m not…no way. I’m not jealous.”

“Envious,” she corrected and at his hard look she shrugged and said, “blame Lydia; you know how she gets about vocabulary.”

“This isn’t about vocabulary.”

“You’re right. It’s about you being envious.” She snatched his phone out of his hand and locked the screen with a press of her thumb to the side.

“I’m not.”

“Right, because it’s normal for your face to do that…that thing.” She poked his cheek and he swatted her away.

It was, actually, but once upon a time it used to be directed at Lydia and at any guy that dared to breathe in her direction. And Jackson. Dear god, Jackson. Stiles could have set the poor bastard on fire with the hatred in his eyes whenever he spotted Jackson grabbing Lydia, pulling her into a kiss, nuzzling his nose against her hair, holding her around the waist.

She knew that look on Stiles’s face because it was frequent, because it was so stark, because it was a look she worked hard to keep off her face lest he finally figured it all out.

“Just help me paint.”

Perrie flashed finger-guns at him and turned to her wall, ready and waiting to be painted. She picked up her abandoned roller, waited for him to roll his in the blue paint before she took a turn, turned back to her wall, and rolled one big, wet, spongy striped against the white. No turning back now.

They worked in silence, the music pouring out of the speakers jumping from one to the next as the genres shuffled. The mirth that once danced on her lips died a little every time she peeked a glance at Stiles over her shoulder and at some point she knew she was frowning and that Stiles would catch on and try to figure it out—because he always figures it out. Until he doesn’t.

Perrie sighed. Was it that terrible? Being envious or jealous or whatever over the fact that she could be interested in someone else? Was it such a joke to be dismissed without even giving it a second thought? Giving her a second thought? Just this once? It was supposed to be a joke but…well, the joke must be on her. Her mouth twisted to the side. Maybe it was all for the best, leaving. Graduating. Maybe then she’d finally give up the excruciating hope that, someday, things would be different. Not change, Stiles didn’t react well to that, but…different.

“Pear?”

Perrie turned, lips pressed together, eyebrows lifting in a silent question that was broken by a messy, sticky, swatch of blue pressing up against her cheek and across an eye. The pungent, sharp odor of paint shot up her nostrils and, when she spluttered, it lay thick across her tongue.

“Oh man, that’s the oldest trick in the book!” Stiles’s eyes sparkled, like the glitter-dotted surface of a wave.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight—kinda didn’t help that she was breathing in some harsh chemicals, thanks—and her fingers tightened on the shaft of her roller, wishing they were digging into the collar of his own flannel shirt as she yanked him towards her, getting up close and personal, smashing through that boundary that read just friends in big neon letters.

Instead, she twisted her hips, grounded herself, and pushed forward, running her own roller up his face. “Ha! Gotcha back!” she crowed, watching in satisfaction as he dragged a sleeve against his shirt; the red and black squares now marred with blue.

It was an all-out fight after that; running around the small room, tagging each other with their extended reach as much as they could. Footsteps dotted the tarp covered floor and odd paint splotches covered the primer and, if it were possible for the sky to melt, it would’ve been nestled within Perrie’s hair.

Their breaths, heavy with jubilant exhaustion, were stuttered by leftover laughter as they knelt on the floor. The remnants of their fight stared back at them. When they locked eyes their laughter started all over again, underlined by the bouncy pop song crooning that it’d make them lose their minds.

“Oh man, I’m hungry,” Perrie said, putting a hand to her grumbling stomach.

“Yeah, me too.” Stiles held his hand out to her. She grasped it and, in one swift and smooth yank, she was pulled to her feet. He swatted at his dark jeans, grimacing at the bright blue streak. Then he shrugged. “Want to go to Ruby’s?”

She looked down at her paint splattered shirt and jeans. “Like this?”

“Of all places, I don’t think Ruby’s cares much about dress code.” He swung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. Beneath the heavy weight, with the collar of the patterned fabric brushing up against her neck, her cheeks blazed and a. Their hips bumped as they walked together, Stiles steering her towards the door. “My treat.”

Reaching up, Perrie grasped his hand. He laced their fingers together. “My two favorite words.”

Her? Perrie Simmons, give up hope?

Now that was a joke.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles x oc #teen wolf oc #oc: perrie simmons #my writings #fics for friends

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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Stark Spangled Banner- One Shot:Empire State of Mind

Katie Stark and Steve Rogers- How it all began…

So this is a little different to how I normally write, so I hope you all enjoy it. I was listening to the radio and ‘Empire State of Mind’ by Alicia Keys came on and it gave me a bit of inspiration.

Warnings: Language!

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

Grew up in a town that is famous as a place of movie scenes

Noise is always loud, there are sirens all around and the streets are mean

If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere, that’s what they say

Seeing my face in lights or my name in marquees found down on Broadway

Something catches her eye on the coat hooks by the door. A light blue coat. A woman’s coat.

“Babe…” he begins, but she isn’t listening. She pushes past him into the apartment and glances around. There’s a pair of heels by the couch. Her blood runs cold

“Kay…”

Pushing open the door to the bedroom she stops dead. There’s a woman in there. A blonde woman. Lying, in the bed. On her side. Her chest tightens, her word crumbles and she turns to her boyfriend, who is stood in the doorway, guilty expression on his face.

“Katie…”

She punches him square in the nose, brings her knee up sharply into his groin leaving him groaning on the floor before she runs, stumbling onto the street. The rain is cold as she gasps for breath, shaking with anger. Before she knows what she is doing, she’s dug a huge scratch down the side of his car, his silver Audi A5, his pride and joy, with her keys. And then the red mist well and truly descends and she wrenches open her trunk pulling out the socket wrench for the tyres…

“Katie…what the fuck…”

She hears his yells as she brings it down with a crash into one headlight, then the other in a fit of rage she doesn’t ever recall having had in her life before. A hand catches her wrist and she spins round, trying to escape out of the hold.

“LET GO OF ME GRANT!”

“I will if you drop that…” She does, and it clatters to the floor as she looks up, tears falling down her face mingling with the cold March rain.

“13 fucking months.” She sobs, her voice quiet “What was it for you, all lies?”

“No, course not…I love you baby…you know I do, I fucked up….” She looks straight into those warm, hazel eyes, the eyes she loves so much and something inside her breaks and it physically hurts. She needs to get away.

“Fuck you…” she whispers softly before she turns and walks to her car.

Even if it ain’t all it seems, I got a pocketful of dreams Baby I’m from New York! Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There’s nothing you can’t do Now you’re in New York! These streets will make you feel brand new Big lights will inspire you Hear it for New York, New York, New York!

She is sprinting. The base is about to collapse on top of them, and they run through the tunnels, weaving in and out of the falling structure.

“We’re clear upstairs sir,” Agent Coulson says on the radio. “We’re good to go.”

Together they hurtle out of the doors and sprint towards a helicopter which is waiting. Agent Fury shoves her up and into the cab and the helicopter starts to fly up in the air just in time before the ground crumbles below them.

She presses her face against the window, glancing down as the facility crumbles. But that wasn’t what she is looking for.

Sir!“ she shouts, pointing when she spots her target.

"Move,” Fury orders the pilot. The pilot turns around and drops altitude, fast. Both whip out guns and she closes one eye and pulls the trigger. Windscreen glass smashes and the jeep swerves off the road and onto the grass verge, making her smirk slightly, Clint has taught her well. She takes aim again but this time doesn’t get a chance. Loki aims his sceptre at the helicopter and hits, causing the helicopter to stall and lurch.

“Jump…!” Fury yells, grabbing her arm. And she does. She rolls along the floor, covering her head as the helicopter passes over and crashes about 20 feet away.

“Shit!” she groans as she gets to her feet, the jeep now well out of range, both hands grab at her hair in frustration.

“Director,“ Coulson says on the radio. "Director Fury do you copy?”

"The Tesseract is with a hostile force,“ Fury replies, glancing at her and then back at the helicopter. "I have men down. Hill?”

“A lot of men still under,” Hill responds. “Don’t know how many survivors.”

“I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that brief case.” Fury commands.

“Roger that,” Hill complies.

“Coulson, get back to base, this is a level seven, as of right now,” Fury continues into the radio. “We are at war.”

“Sir, what do we do?" she asks. He turns to face her and takes a deep sigh.

“He hit us hard…” Fury said, as the sound of another chopper approaching his her ears. “So we hit him back harder.” On the avenue, there ain’t never a curfew, ladies work so hard Such a melting pot, on the corner selling rock, preachers pray to God Hail a gypsy cab, takes me down from Harlem to the Brooklyn Bridge Some will sleep tonight with a hunger for more than an empty fridge

He rounds the street corner, someone is stood there selling something, yelling “Buy some time! Get your time here!” If only he thinks to himself. He spots a café and crosses the street, settling down at a table. He purchases a cup of coffee and pulls out his sketch book, sketching the large building that stretched above him. It’s only when he really paid attention he notices that it reads STARK across the side. He snorts, the building is just the type of thing he would expect to be associated with Howard’s son.

“Waiting for the big guy?” a soft female voice says.

“Ma’am?” he looks up from his drawing, confused slightly as the waitress stands with the coffee pot in her hand.

“Iron Man,” she explains. “Lot of people eat here just to see him fly by.”

“Right,” he says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Maybe another time.” He pulls out his wallet and drops some cash on the table preparing to leave when the Waitress speaks again.

“Table’s yours as long as you like,” she says kindly, “Nobody’s waiting on it.” She pours him some more coffee and as she walks away she says, “Plus we’ve got free wireless.”

“Radio?” he mutters. She turns back and smiled.

“Ask for her number, you moron,” An elderly man says from the next table over. He stares round at him, confused for a moment, then simply shakes his head.

Everything, even his fucking Baseball team is gone and finding that out is the thing that tips him over the edge, the thing that makes him lose his shit completely, the thing that had him cursing the fact he has been pulled out of the damned ice in the first place. At 10 pm he is in the gym, taking his frustrations out on a punch bag.

Fist after fist, punch after punch as memories fly before his eyes.

"There’s not enough time! I gotta put her in the water.”

“You won’t be alone,” Peggy whispers.

He grips onto his wrapped hands tight and punches the bag in bitter remembrance. He throws one last hard punch across the punching bag that makes it tear away from the ceiling, and broke the bag of sand apart. He is out of breath, trying to calm his anger down. He brushes the sweat away from his forehead and goes to pick up another sandbag by the chains. He starts to hook it up on the ceiling, takes a deep breath and starts again.

Then hears the door open and heels clicking on the laminate flooring of the gym.

“Trouble sleeping?” A soft, female voice speaks, a touch of amusement in her tone. Her accent wasn’t local. He looks up, and for the first time he sees her. Perfect lines, curves, and bright green eyes.

I'ma make it by any means, I got a pocketful of dreams Baby I’m from New York! Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There’s nothing you can’t do Now you’re in New York! These streets will make you feel brand new Big lights will inspire you Hear it for New York, New York, New York!

They’re in Stuttgart. They’ve traced Loki.

“The sceptre is dangerous.” she says, her eyes flashing as she watches “That’s how he got Barton and everyone else under control. That has to be the first priority, stop him using it.. But even without it, he’s powerful…”

“Alright I’ll take Loki…” he speaks, inhaling. “You start moving these people out to safety.”

She nods, and slips off to the left. He turns to watch Loki again, waiting for his opening as Loki bears down on the old man who has challenged him.

“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example.” And then, as he raises the sceptre and it started to glow blue he knows he can’t wait any longer. Instinctively he flies out from the shadows, diving in front of the man, blocking the blast with his shield. The beam reflects and knocks Loki down backwards.

“You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing” he says, as the crowd starts to dissipate around them.

Loki cocks his head, but his attention is soon drawn to a point over his shoulder.

“You know we really have to stop meeting like this” she says loudly as she draws level with him, staring at the dark haired man whose attention flickers to her.

“Hello, again Agent Stark…” Loki’s twisted grin spreads across his face

“Yeah, hi…” she shrugs, waving, concentrating on keeping him talking enough to let people get out of the way and back up to arrive “How many times is this, 3? You know you could just ask me on a date…” “It is nothing but sheer, dumb luck that has kept you alive the last 2 times we met…”

“Well technically the first time we didn’t meet. You sent that big fire shooting robot thing after your brother, you didn’t actually come yourself. Why was that? Too scared?”

He side eyes her. She’s good. Definitely has Howard’s gift of the gab. He sees Loki’s grin slip again, before he sneers down, his attention flickering from the woman to his left and over to him.

“And you. The soldier. A man out of time”

“I’ve got a shot…” Romanoff sounds in his ear and he gives a little smirk.

“I’m not the one who’s out of time.”

But it never works out how you plan, does it? As Romanoff sends him a warning, Loki replies by sending his own- a blast of blue at the Quinjet, which maneuverers upwards just in time. And then they fight, the 3 of them. Ducking, diving, kicking, vibranium flying, shocks sounding. Loki is strong, the strongest opponent he has ever fought and at one point the god gains the upper hand, tripping the Captain, sending him to his knees. As he stands over him, he has his head bowed, as Loki, points the tip of the sceptre on his helmet.

“Kneel…”

“Not today!” he says, flipping his body over and then she runs forward, aiming a two footed kick at Loki’s chest which sends him stumbling backwards. They begin to fight again, almost like they are performing some kind of twisted tango, then suddenly there’s a loud blast of music. She instantly stills and looks up, scanning the sky for something.

“Hey Kiddo, did you miss me?!” a male voice asks and her face splits into a grin. He looks up to see Iron Man fly over the top, blasting Loki backwards to the ground.

He lands in between the Captain and the Agent, turning to look at the woman. “You know one of the problems of little sisters is always having to bail them out.”

“You’ve never bailed me out of a fight yet!” she snorts indignantly as Iron Man turns to look at Loki, his suit shooting out every piece of weaponry it contains.

“Make your move, reindeer games…”

Loki puts his hands up and surrenders, his armour suddenly vanishing leaving him in a long, emerald green jacket with a black leather trousers and top underneath.

“Good move.”

“Mr Stark…” he says, not looking at him as he greets his friend’s son for the first time.

“Captain…”

One hand in the air for the big city Street lights, big dreams, all looking pretty No place in the world that can compare Put your lighters in the air, everybody say Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

They lose Loki, but get him back again after she talks his brother, the God of Thunder down in the middle of the forest. Then they row, about SHIELD building Weapons with the tesseracts, about egos, about being on a threat list.

“Wait, you’re on that list?” Tony looks at him “Are you above or below angry bees?”

He feels the anger bubbling in his chest and he snaps back, stepping forward towards the man, holding his gaze.

“Stark, so help me God, if you make one more wisecrack…”

“Threat! Verbal threat. I feel threatened” Tony says, pointing at him.

“Tony for once in your life shut up!” she yells at her brother, angry flushes redden her cheeks.

“Who died and made you President?” Tony childishly replies and raises his eyebrow at her

“God you’re such a dick!”

“Fuck off!” Tony replies

“Hey.” he feels himself snap again.

“What’s your problem now?” Tony glares at him.

“You shouldn’t speak to her like that.” he has no idea why but he feels compelled to defend her. Her brother snorts. “Thanks but I can handle him on my own…” she folds her arms and looks at him, but it isn’t an unkind glare. It’s almost a thank you.

“You speak of control yet you court chaos.” Thor’s voice loudly cuts over everyone quieting the room down slightly.

“That there, that’s his M.O., isn’t it?” Bruce Banner points at Thor “I mean, what are we, a team? No, we’re a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We’re a time bomb"

“You need to step away.“ Director Fury speaks darkly.

"Why shouldn’t the guy let off a little steam, right?” Tony asks placing his hand on the Captain’s shoulder as if they were old friends.

“You know damn well why, back off.” he says said angrily throwing Tony’s hand off.

“Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me.” Tony says straightening up in front of him.

He smiles somewhat condescendingly. “Right, big man in a suit of armour. Take that off, and what are you?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” Tony shoots right back.

At that point she steps in between them both.

“Stop it!”

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you.” he hisses and she spins, gently pushing on his chest. He acknowledges her touch by stepping back slightly but he continues to goad Tony “Yeah I’ve seen the footage, the only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

“I think I would just cut the wire.” Tony responds nonchalantly.

“Tony I mean it…” she says, still in between the two of them as she spins back to face her brother. “For once in your life…”

“Always a way out.” he can’t help but bite back, “You know you may not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero.”

“A hero?” Tony repeats in disbelief, and with that he moves his sister out of the way, stepping forward. “Like you? You’re a laboratory experiment Rogers, everything special about you came from a bottle.”

“Put on the suit, let’s go a few rounds.” he hisses, the two men now almost nose to nose.

Thor’s loud laugh rings across the lab “You people are so petty, and tiny.”

“Not helping!” she snarls, rounding on the god.

The sniping continues until Banner makes them all nervous as he picks up the sceptre. The tension diffuses somewhat as the location of the Tesseract is found, but as he watches her read the screen, he has a split second to register the look of shock and horror on her face as she locks eyes with him, before the ground shakes as they’re hit.

Differences are thrown aside as they battle their enemy. Loki escapes, sending Thor plummeting to Earth and after transforming into the Hulk they have no idea where Banner is either. They regain the archer, Clint, Hawkeye.

But Coulson is dead. And she thinks it is her fault, for choosing to try to release Thor, but he assures her it isn’t, and that he would have done the same. A gentle hug as she cries is all he can do. She’s small in his arms, but not weak. Now the mood is solemn as they are left floating in the sky, with no idea what to do next. All previous differences are put aside as they grieve, mourn the loss of one of their own. And then it’s back to business as they figure out Loki’s play- he wants a monument in the sky with his name plastered all over it after all.

And the Avengers assemble on the streets of Manhatten.

In New York! Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There’s nothing you can’t do Now you’re in New York! These streets will make you feel brand new Big lights will inspire you

They are operating as a team now, and he falls into his natural role as leader, as Captain. His instructions as to keep the aliens fighting and their attention off civilians whilst trying to figure out how to close the portal. They’re back to back and he looks around as she takes down another alien with an expert shot between the eyes and he feels a surge of pride at how fiercely she is fighting.

“Cap.” Clint’s voice came through the radio. “The bank on 42nd past Madison. They cornered a lot of civilians in there.”

He stops dead as does she. The two exchange a look and she nods.

“We’re on it.“ He says back.

They turn and ran back in the direction of the bank. When they arrive she doubles over, catching her breath as the pair of them glance through the glass doors. Most civilians are located on the lower floor, in the lobby whilst the Chitauri stood on the upper portion of the bank, pointing their weapons down.

“Shit…” she sighs “how do we get in there without setting them off in a firing frenzy?”

He is looking around for a solution when he suddenly spots one. He points to the small annex at the side of the bank. It’s one story high with a flat roof. “If we get up there we can get through onto the top balcony of the bank.”

She nods and together they run round the back to the alley which was lined with dumpsters.

“You saw Nat right?” he asks, gesturing to his shield. She nods and easily clambers up onto the dumpster. She takes a second then jumps onto the shield and he propels her easily upwards. As he watches she twists and manages to reach the edge of the building easily, the top half of her body safely over the ledge. He vaults onto the dumpster and takes a running jump, catching onto the ledge and pulling himself up. They make their way over the roof, using the various steel vent columns to hide. The aliens have their back to them both but one is doing something on the floor.

“Cap… that’s a-“

He knows what it is. And sighs. “We’ve got to get in there…”

“But how, if we go charging in then-“

“We’ve no other option…” he says, “look, I’ll go first. If you follow, hopefully we can get their attention and keep the fight on us.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He backs up a few spaces and then runs, clearing the meter gap between the two buildings with ease, going shield first through the window of the bank. She follows a few moments later, rolling over on the landing before leaping up. There is a moment’s pause as the aliens registered their arrival, punctuated only by the rapid beeping of the bomb in the background.

Then, the fight begins. He hurls his shield one of the Chitauri’s heads. Another one growls, shooting off its spear, as he dives for cover landing in front of a desk, kicking it forward. She approaches another one and leaps into the air, snapping its head as she arches over the top of it, before throwing it down onto the lower portion of the bank.

"Everyone, clear out!” she yells over the railing, looking down at everyone below.

He turns to another alien that was coming at him, and he raises his shield pushing the alien backwards. But another grabs him from behind in a headlock. He gives a yell as he feels it gripping at his head but he dodges under its arm, leaving his helmet behind and giving a huge two footed kick into its back, sending it over the railing. Meanwhile, his partner manages to squirm out of the hold of the one holding her and he kicks at it before spinning it round and using it as a shield to take the shots fired from the one remaining Chitauri.

“Katie!” he yells as the remaining Chitauri scrambles to pick up the ticking bomb. He races over to her, grabs her round the waist just as the Chitauri throws the bomb in their direction.

His shield takes most of the impact but the force of it sends them both flying out of the window. He twists in mid-air so that she is clutched to his chest and sheltered from the impact as they crash onto the top of a car, his body taking the blow, the roof of the car crushing under his weight and the impact they hit it with. That hurt. He opened his arms to let her out of his grip, moaning slightly as he rolls down and lands on his back on the floor. He opens an eye and stands up, looking around taking deep breaths, eyeing up the chaos. The sounds around him dim slightly, and everything seems to be moving slower. He starts to wonder how they’re going to actually win this one. He looks around and spots the civilians coming out of the bank. One of them he recognises vaguely…

“Captain… Steve!” a voice cuts through his thoughts and he spins round, pulling himself up to full height as he looks at her, then he notices 3 of the aliens stood a few feet away. He grabs her arm and pulls her behind him and his shield.

The 3 Chitauri Warriors look back at them for a moment before they launch. He does the same, snapping the neck of one, ripping the arms off another, using his shield to cave in its head. It writhed in front of him on the floor before going silent.

He turns to look at Katie, the third at her feet as she slid her gun away. They lock eyes for a split second, chests heaving as they catch their breath and then there’s a loud bang above them. Instinctively they both duck and look up, attention to the sky.

One of the leviathans has exploded in the air as Iron Man shoots out from its tail end, and comes crashing down to Earth, taking out a glass bus stop a few hundred yards from where they were. Then he flies off again, his thrusters at full pelt.

They go again, it’s a fierce fight. Shield, hammer, bullets, arrows. At one point he thinks they are clear and drops his shield to his side, and he is caught in the stomach by one of the rays which burns through his uniform, scorching his skin. He drops to his knees, clutching at his side hissing slightly at the stinging and then she is there. Green eyes searching his, asking if he is ok as she kneels down, one hand on his shoulder, the other gingerly pressing just underneath the wound as she bends to get a look at it.

And then Natasha says she can close the portal. He tells her to do it, but Tony stops them.

“I’ve got a nuke coming in, it’s gonna blow in less than a minute. And I know just where to put it.” Tony says.

“Stark, you know that’s a one way trip.” he warns, turning away from her slightly as he speaks, looking up into the sky.

“Tony. Don’t you dare I…. I…” she begins to protest and he turns to her, sadly.

“To the Stars and back, Kiddo.” Tony’s voice is calm, and she takes a choked breath at his words, the words he always spoke to her as a little girl when he tucked her in at night are echoing in her head, I love you the stars and back.

“Tony…” her voice cracks as she looks up. Tony climbs higher, and higher, past Stark Tower gaining speed before he flings himself through the portal.

Everything goes quiet on the comms. He glances down and she looks up at him meeting his gaze through watery eyes and he sticks his hand out to take hers, squeezing it. He hopes she understands what he is trying to say, that he had been wrong about her brother. He was the one to put his neck on the line after all.

“He’ll be fine…” she says, stubbornly as she turns her head back to look upwards, tears trailing lines on her dirty cheeks, visible under the bottom of her helmet “He’s never let me down before…”

They watch the explosion. The Chitauri soldiers in the street convulse and shake, then stop.

“Come on Tony…” she mutters, as she grips his hand even tighter. He pauses, but there is no sign of the eldest Stark. Nothing. He sighs, he has a code, he never trades lives, but as he watches, he knows that portal has to be closed…and what were the chances of Iron Man surviving that?

“Close it.” he speaks, the words catching in his throat as he turns to look at her, his head bowed. “I’m so sorry Katie…”

She struggles for words, her sobs choking in her throat as he pulls her close, her head burying into his chest. He stands stock still for a moment before he turns his attention back upwards to make sure the portal is closing. He wishes it could have been different, losing men never sits well with him. He feels like he has failed again, just like he failed Bucky.

But as the hole closes a scarlet and gold figure plummets down through the sky.

“Son of a gun.” he says, his lips curling up in a smile as he gently pulls back and directs her attention to the sky where Tony has made it back.

Now you’re in New York! Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There’s nothing you can’t do Now you’re in New York! These streets will make you feel brand new Big lights will inspire you Hear it for New York!

The group escort Thor and Loki to Bethesda Terrace in Central Park, the safest place for Thor to call the Bi-Frost as it can be surrounded on all sides by STRIKE agents, should Loki try and pull a fast one.

Thor firmly grasps his hand before he turns to her and pulls her into a huge, bone crushing hug.

“I will return, Little Stark” He says as he holds out a glass tube in his hands “I’m hoping that with the tesseracts power we can repair the Bi-Frost permanently.”

“Always a pleasure, just don’t bring him with you.” she grins, gesturing to Loki with her head. The dark haired god returns her jibe with a glare, which she greets with a smirk and the raising of the middle finger of her right hand. Thor nods, gently touches her neck with his hand in a sign of friendly affection before she moves back a few steps to the side of her Captain. The group watches as Tony opens the Tesseract’s case. Dr Banner takes it out, holding it carefully between metal forceps and places it into the glass tube Thor is holding. Thor thrusts the end of the tube to Loki, who reluctantly takes it. The blonde haired god shoots one more look round at the group, nodding, before he twists the handle and then the pair step into the energy beam it generates.

The remaining heroes begin to say their goodbyes and he walks over to Tony, holding out his hand and the man shakes it, smiling.

“I was wrong about you.” he says to the inventor.

“So was I” Tony says “Turns out I wouldn’t just cut the wire, huh?” He gives a little laugh as he drops Tony’s hand. He watches as Tony turns to Banner opening the trunk of his car so Banner can drop his bag into it.

She watches the exchange, smiling slightly, before she steps up to his side and speaks to him.

“So what’s next for Captain America?” she asks as he turns to facer her. “I mean, once the weeks of debriefing and analysis are over…”

“I dunno” he says, looking around. “Fury has something in the pipeline for me within SHIELD, apparently. What about you? Back to DC?”

“No, I’ll be sticking around for a while, certainly whilst the clean-up operation gets going so you’ll get to see my smiley, happy face every day…” He laughs and she pouts “That was your cue to say you’re so excited about working with me.”

“Sorry!” he shrugs, peeping out at her from under his hair.

“Whatever, anyway you’re gonna need this.” she says, handing him a piece of paper “That’s my cell number, call me.”

Steve stares at the piece of paper, his thumb stroking the writing on the page before he looks down at her.

“You know, your father would be proud, of you both.”

“I like to think so.” she smiles. “I mean, he is part of the reason I do what I do.”

There was a moment’s pause before he leans forward, hesitating slightly, before he drops a gentle kiss to her cheek. She feels herself flush slightly at the contact of his lips and the compliment, and his own cheeks flush red too.

“See you soon.” He smiles as she turns to go, grinning to herself as she walks towards Tony’s car

“Hey!” he calls and she stops, turning back to face him. “Maybe I could er, stop by the Tower sometime in the next few days, if that’s ok?”

“You do that!” she smiles “Or I’ll come find you instead.”

He nods, waves, smiles and turns back to his bike before she shouts back to him

“Oh and Cap…”

He turns to look over his shoulder

“You might technically be nearly 100 but you don’t look it so ditch the plaid, yeah?”

He frowns, looked down at his shirt before he looks back at her, she shrugs innocently before settling into the car behind her brother.

**** It was late. Almost 1 am, but her side of the bed was cold and empty. Steve raised his head, blinking. He can’t remember her coming to bed, in fact her pillow doesn’t look like she had. He sat up, still, listening slightly and then heard the faint sounds of the piano and her soft voice. He threw the covers back and padded out into the hallway and down to her music room.

He loved watching her play. She did it with such elegance, and her voice was always so soft yet sultry. As he watched, the soft lamp illuminating her features as her hair fell over her face, her graceful fingers flew to the last key and she let out a soft hum of the last note.

“You ok?” he asked giving her a moment.

Katie turned on her seat and smiled at Steve as he walked into the room and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, dropping a kiss to the back of her neck.

“Yeah…” she sighed as his hands gently began to work her muscles.

“It’s late Kitten.” “I know, I got ready for bed but just wasn’t tired.” she says, her eyes closing at his soothing touch. “Any particular reason you were singing that song?” he asked.

“Not really. I heard it on the radio before for the first time in years” she said as he worked her stiff shoulders “It got me thinking about the battle, how we first met.” At that point his right thumb found a knot under her shoulder blade which he dug into, causing her to hiss slightly.

“Sorry.” he said gently, easing off but she shook her head.

“Don’t stop, feels good” she mumbled.

“How about you come to bed and I can do it properly.” he said softly.

“Yeah and how long till it descends into you giving me another earth shattering orgasm?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” he pouted.

“Didn’t say that…” she smirked as she tilted her head back to look at him and he leant down so his mouth was an inch or so away from hers.

“Come to bed.” he said softly, and there was something about the way he said it that made desire pool in the bottom of her belly and she nodded, gently pressing her lips to his.

He stepped back allowing her to stand and she turned off the lamp and slipped her hand into his as he led her to their bedroom.

@the-omni-princess

@momobaby227

@geekofmanythings16

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resonanteye · 4 years

Photo

via http://resonanteye.net/current-events-condensed/

current events; condensed

A condensed post including short writings on current events.

CONSPIRACIES ARE NOT SECRET IN THIS CENTURY

open up? conspiracies? here’s the real one.

if They want to “cull the weak” and control us better, what better way than to present a false choice between going back to work and risking lives, or slowly going broke at home?

it’s a false choice. there are hoarders, greedy fucks holding money they’re not entitled to, billions. enough for everything to be covered. hell, the Pentagon LOST enough money to pay EVERYONE’S rent and mortgage for the best six months. LOST IT.

The conspiracy? PRETEND THAT MONEY ISN’T THERE. force people to fight over scraps, pretend there are only two options. don’t let people come together and agree that TOO MUCH MONEY IS IN TOO FEW HANDS, because that might mean we can beat this thing.

unity among the poor? PREVENT AT ALL COSTS. if you kill a few hundred thousand people in the process, fuck it. that doesn’t matter to Them. They want to keep their grip on power, forcing us to behave like serfs working at their pleasure, dying for their capital gains. Living in their damn bunkers.

There is more than these two choices, don’t let them suck you in. the current garbage video circulating is MORE OF THEIR SHIT. it’s part of this. it’s not “secret info” or “exposing an evil plan”.

to get what They want – they’ve just got to keep us arguing about whether to open up or not. that’s it. that’s all they’ve got to do. circulate some fake anti science garbage to make sure it goes over easy.

and murder a ton of people to make another dollar.

THAT’S your conspiracy. THERE’S your elite takeover.

they don’t need micro chips, 5g, or any of this other shit. vaccines aren’t “Them”, the anti vax movement is THEM trying to murder the “useless”.

” WAKE UP, SHEEPLE ” it’s obvious as fuck and you don’t need to go out on any limbs to see it. it’s plain as day. they’re saying it out loud. there’s no need for this conspiracy to be secret. half of you are HAPPY TO JOIN IN.

stop that. join together. fight for the end of greedy leeches stealing from us then pretending that money is gone and they can’t help. the big banks? THEY FUCKING OWE US ONE. it’s time we collect, TOGETHER. right/left/middle. all of us. they owe all of us.

Divine is disgusted by slumming yuppies

SEGREGATION, A REAL THING

in a post about this photo, someone from Europe, younger, asked if segregation was a real thing, a real law in the US. comments were then closed, so I’ll post my reply here instead, in case anyone was not aware.

Elvis sits to eat at a segregated lunch counter while an elderly black woman stands, waiting for food to take away. she’s not allowed to sit there.

it was law, and when it wasn’t the law it was the unspoken rule, for a very long time.

lunch counter (restaurants of all kinds), bus sections, bathrooms, water faucets and schools were separated by race. the fight to desegregate schools is most well known, as it lasted a very long time and required buses, because people of color had also been segregated by neighborhood- many towns refused to sell and owners refused to rent to anyone of color in a “white area”. (the TV show “the Jeffersons” addresses this, and it’s also known as “redlining”)

many politicians on both sides of the aisle supported it, but the Democratic party eventually worked to pass the civil rights amendment and related bills to stop it, although there were those in the party who still argued in favor of these laws.

https://www.businessinsider.com/biden-said-desegregation-would-create-a-racial-jungle-2019-7

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lester_Maddox

(of note- this happened after desegregation, that’s how strongly politicians felt about it! ten years in and they were still arguing that it had been a good thing.)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massive_resistance

after it legally ended, thanks to the civil rights movement, there was blowback; people trying to vote, to eat lunch, ride the bus, go to school, were viciously attacked by crowds or groups of white people.

FILE – In this May 28, 1963 file photo, a group of whites pour sugar, ketchup and mustard over the heads of Tougaloo College student demonstrators at a sit-in demonstration at a Woolworth’s lunch counter in Jackson, Miss. Seated at the counter, from left, are Tougaloo College professor John Salter,and students Joan Trumpauer and Anne Moody. John Salter, who also used the name John Hunter Gray, died Monday, Jan. 7, 2019 at his home in Pocatello, Idaho. Relatives say he was 84 when he died Monday after an illness. (Fred Blackwell/The Clarion-Ledger via AP, File) ORG XMIT: MSJAD701

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_Riders https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Crow_laws

during this time, due to so much police and community violence, the Black Panther formed to monitor and protect people.

https://www.wglt.org/post/director-chronicles-black-panthers-rise-new-tactics-were-needed#stream/0

members of the Black Panthers, preparing to feed the community

GENERATION X

sure, we are slackers. yeah. we’re ok with staying home. you have just told a generation of latchkey tech addicts raised during the bridge from antenna TVs to HD internet streaming to sit at home. if you’d feed us, we wouldn’t even blink at it. this quarantine stuff? that’s not the hard thing.

but we’re watching friends and family die. a lot of us have been down this road before. we’ve watched right wing pigs (yes, I’ll say it) allow our friends to die before. we’ve been down this road of denial and greed and prejudice and all of it. we’ve seen what happens when politicians value money and ego over human lives, and we know it SUCKS ASS.

hell, we watched Reagan. Bush. Bush. Clinton, too-he was only a hair better. and so-

when we need to, we pound the pavement. we toss the bricks. we get arrested. we wipe mace out of our eyes and stampede.

we always tend to be masked, regardless of standards of the moment. I don’t think, in my life, I’ve been to a protest that didn’t have a contingent of masked people wishing to avoid cameras. Now, a protest for actual assistance for people? a real protest, a fight for better conditions, the 300-some strikes that have happened that the news ISN’T covering? yeah. surgical masks. they’re brilliant photos, but not as interesting for the crap media as a few fat guys with guns.

because that’s the joke they want to show us, yeah? not people actually fighting in solidarity, to protect each other, get better work conditions, protect the disabled, get better healthcare for all, support people financially… the shit the majority of people really want. no. they’re not covering that real shit.

the news, they like a spectacle.

we need to find ways to make the facts spectacular.

I have rarely seen my generation protest FOR corporate interests and find any such thing suspicious as all fuck. I don’t believe a bit of that shit. That’s paid for, that’s arranged, that’s a pony show. That’s the same tiny batch of zonked out cultists that don’t have a trump rally to travel to right now. it’s like a damn road show, the same hundred people, like some Boomer deadhead traveling bus shit. I don’t trust it and I don’t believe it. the older folks at them, yeah. they’re that little band of travelers. sure. but us?

Seattle police use gas to push back World Trade Organization protesters in downtown Seattle Tuesday, Nov. 30, 1999. The protests delayed the opening of the WTO third ministerial conference. (AP Photo/Eric Draper)

because even though we will go do Things, we are, in fact, ok with staying home.

and we don’t like your fucking company. and corporations bought our music and art and killed it in front of our eyes, and there’s no getting our trust back. and we will wear a goddamn busted ass thrift store sack before we spend money on slave-sewn clothes. and we would rather read and write and play music and watch movies all damn day, than go to jobs in cubicles.

War protesters and march to Gas Works Park protesting the US involvement in the Persian Gulf and the buid up to war against Irag January 15 deadline 1991 Seattle Washington State USA

I mean, we’ll usually go, because we gotta eat. so feed us. give us bread. you already poisoned the roses.

THE ASSHOLE FACTORY

this is where your conspiracy videos are made. in the asshole factory.

what do you notice about these photos? do you see the threats? what kind of people are there?

it is almost like there’s a monthly event they’ve been going to, that’s been cancelled, where they could hold up trump signs and boo anything reasonable… wonder what that event is. where have you seen some of these faces before? I’ve seen a few in the rally photos and videos.

check out “small business” guy. who is he? does he own a “small business”, you think? (photos by Orin Louis)

ON THE PANDEMIC

a lot of people talking about immunity/reinfection and that study.

that study is just saying we don’t know yet. we just don’t know yet.

it’s early days.

Coronavirus is not influenza, they’re two different families of virus. VERY different.

this is more related to the common cold (in its behavior)than to the flu. (the cold is a rhinovirus. SARS & MERS, and Covid-19, if you want to find out more about these viruses, don’t look up the flu-they are Coronaviruses.)

it is contagious the way a cold is, but it has serious effects on any part of the body with ace2 receptors. (simply put- blood, lungs, heart, kidneys, brain)

they have been working on a cold vaccine for decades. no success. BUT. again, it’s early days. there’s never been this kind of pressure for a vaccine for it. so, to be direct: we don’t know yet. they’ve never been this desperate, this well funded, to find a cold vaccine.

this could be a seasonal thing, eventually- it could mutate to be less lethal and become just another cold we can get every year. it could mutate to be even more vicious and we all are in serious danger all the time. it could create immunity, and some will be ok for a year or a month or a decade… it might not, and people can catch it again and worse.

we just don’t know yet. the whole reason we are isolating the way we are is to buy time for science to find these answers. we’re not in quarantine to “kill it off” or stop it. we are slowing it down so science can have time to find answers, so less of us die while that happens.

every day we don’t infect other people, is a day in which researchers can work. we need them to work. they are doing that. every day we don’t infect other people, is a day this virus doesn’t get a chance to mutate and change. this helps a lot.

science needs time. all this economic mayhem- it’s to buy them time to help us, to figure it out. the answers won’t come right away and during this time we may hear things that are being tried and tested, some may not work at all, some may be worse than nothing, so information won’t be steady or always correct. when you read a thing, wait a day. read more about it. read the actual study- and if you can’t, wait a few days and read what scientific sources say about it (the lancet, NEJM, etc). don’t rely on NBC, fox, etc to do a great job reporting on science. you’ll have to have patience, even science is having to watch and wait while things are researched, right now.

nobody has the answers; it’s NOVEL. brand new.

they’re testing, they’re researching, they’re learning this thing’s secrets as fast as they can, while we wait that process out.

be as safe as you can be while we buy them the time.

image: pink pangolin drawing in frame

COMMON SENSE KNOWLEDGE

FOR ACCURACY

You shouldn’t leave the house unless you absolutely have to: food, medicine, or other necessity of life. This includes going to other people’s houses.

Masks are good at protecting others if you are infected, and help protect you too, just not as much as others. Wear one.

Stores are closed, unless they provide food or medicine. Alcohol is a necessity for alcoholics who will have actual seizures and could die from withdrawal, so some of those are open. (Some states have been pressured into letting other things stay open, and people insist on going to church and being able to buy guns in public stores, but that’s political shit and you shouldn’t go places unless you have to.)

This virus is deadly to many people, even healthy ones, is as contagious as a common cold, and has killed more people in a month than the flu does in a year. You don’t want to catch it, and if you do, you want to catch it when doctors and nurses aren’t overworked from other people catching it too. There are 8 strains identified right now. This will change over time, because it’ll mutate- like every virus. EVERY virus.

Glovesw help, unless you change them after touching a contaminated surface. They’re good if used properly and if you’re not sure how to do that, don’t bother. Just wash your hands often.

Everyonen to stay home, but you can go outside- away from people. Staying a good distance from people is really the whole point of staying home.

There will be shortages of some things at the grocery store as supplies run out, and as things are shipped to replace them. Chill out.

The virus does spread through and sometimes kill children, but we weren’t aware of this until we had better information.

You will have many symptoms when you are sick, but you will be contagious for up to two weeks before you get sick. YOU WILL BE CONTAGIOUS WITH NO TEMPERATURE OR SYMPTOMS.

You really shouldn’t be eating restaurant food, unless you can reheat it. Wipe down or wash off your groceries.

You are safe if you maintain six feet distance from others, if everyone is masked and nobody is coughing or sneezing. If they are, you need about 27 feet of distance. Keep space from people.

The virus remains active on different surfaces for a time. The surface being porous may or may not matter; like many things, research by science will give better answers as they have time to figure it out.

We count the number of deaths but we don’t know how many people are infected because most places have not got enough tests to see who is infected. Until we can test everyone, stay home, stay away from people.

We have no treatment. There are clinical trials of many different drugs and at least one vaccine, right now, but it will take time to find out what works.

We should stay away from people to avoid spreading this virus until scientists can offer a treatment or preventative measure like a vaccine. There is no reason to infect people, help the virus mutate, or fuck around with this.

If you are an essential worker of ANY kind, you deserve a living wage, hazard pay, full PPE and kindness from everyone who needs you right now. we should be fighting for your safety, not to make things more dangerous for you.

Stop spreading misinformation. Science doesn’t know everything about this yet, information can and will change or become more specific as time goes by. Yes, business interests and governments have handled the entire thing like a clown show, but you don’t have to be part of making it worse.

THE VALIDITY OF PROTESTING IN THIS TIME

protest for:

stronger unions

better pay

stronger social safety nets during a pandemic

your right to own and bear arms

your freedom of speech/freedom from unwarranted surveillance

safer working conditions

medical care for all

free education

fair elections

physical safety from police violence

safety from racist/hate crimes

NOT FOR:

fuck, BUYING things. don’t protest to be able to go buy shit? what the hell is wrong with you?!? you can buy a gun next month, dipshit. you can buy through private sale. fuck all the way off with that.

SOMEONE ELSE TO WAIT ON YOU (haircuts, restaurants, nails, tattoos, etc)

the right to block hospital entrances (we all saw the footage, shut the fuck up)

the right to gigantic church services during a pandemic. YOU CAN DO LIKE GRANDPA DID AND WATCH YOUR PREACHER ON THE TEE VEE.

going to a shit job that you’ve never liked instead of all the things above that would have allowed you to get through this shit without starving to begin with

by the way, local seed and feed stores are open nation wide; agriculture is considered an essential business. you can’t buy whatever the fuck at wallymart right now though, SO SORRY. maybe don’t even fucking shop there?

edit to add; if they were only endangering themselves I wouldn’t give a shit – but you know these fuckers are getting too close to store cashiers, walking the wrong way down narrow aisles, and touching every-fuckin-thing.

also: 81% of people polled, from EVERY political group, think they should be staying home. and agree with that. THIS IS A CRAP PROTEST BY A TINY, UNIMPORTANT GROUP and should not be getting the coverage it is. they aren’t enough to restore an economy, let alone fill a small concert hall.

I may split these into separate posts, if you’d like that, comment so I know people need/want that.

#advice #current events #pandemic #911 #complaints #deep thoughts #dos and donts #ethics #health and safety #politics #posts with lists in them #questions #true stories #Uncategorized #wtc 9/11 einstruzende neubauten artistic poetic terrori #you

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taiblogcomics · 4 years

Text

Earth, But Worse

Hey there, a plane for bats. Got more Red Hood this week, and surprisingly it's something we've been waiting for a while. Which is surprising that we want anything from Red Hood, but here we are~

And here's the cover:

This cover actually reminds me a lot of the cover to Red Hood and the Outlaws #1. Except a bit more boring, since they're not doing anything on this one. Bizarro--or Beardzarro, as I prefer to call him now--can't even be bothered to pose. Yeah, this cover is terrible, but surprisingly it still manages to sell itself with its text. Because, to be perfectly honest, the actual fate of Bizarro and Artemis is something I was honestly invested in. I don't like Jason, but I do want to know what happened to his friends~

Well, if you remember two issues ago, there was a minor plot thing where Jason discovered a hole that he figured could only be made by his missing friend Artemis. He hasn't seen them in a long while and believes them to be dead. We know better, but the specifics of their disappearance hasn't been revealed. Anyway, at the end of last issue, Jason intended to go back to Gotham with his new compatriots, but he had something to take care of first. And here it is! Jasen enters a park and talks to a creepy kid on the swingset. Yeah, you know it's concerning when the kid is creepier than the strange adult coming over to talk to the kid. This kid's name is Caden, and he has the powers to sync up with and copy the powers of the dead. Jason asks him to borrow Artemis and Bizarro's powers, and when he can't, it confirms for him that they're still alive.

And indeed they are! We rejoin them back on the last time we saw them. Which means we can also segue over here with this classic phrase: "Meanwhile, at the Hall of Justice...!" Except not quite. Being an alternate Earth, this building is named the Hall of Punishment, and has a bunch of spiky red rocks jutting from it. Naturally, they decide to explore it. And as they enter, we find them being watched. The first is a creepy-looking dude in a classic milkman uniform, whose art seems to be really awkward about him being able to hold things. Like an old video game model that can't close its hands. He is the Dairy King. The other is a teen girl named "Air Quote". Her "quirk" is that she uses a lot of "unnecessary quotation marks". She can also use her "hand" as a "phone" to "contact people" "long distance". I hope that's not "confusing" or anything~

Inside the Hall of Punishment, Bizarro and Artemis discover a big set of statues of the whole Justice League, all of which have been desecrated or partially destroyed in some way. Artemis figures it's a message. A museum guard happens by them, and quickly figures out they're legitimate superheroes. And since they don't know about Hero Day, they must not be from around here. He leads them into another room, where they find Superman. Or rather, Superman's corpse, his head crushed beneath the famous Daily Planet globe. The guard explains that just one day something happened, nobody knows what or why. But suddenly, everyone with powers just lost them--and everybody without powers gained some. This is punctuated by the guard suddenly turning red and spiky like the spires bursting out of the Hall of Punishment.

Artemis tries to call her axe to her, but instead it just sort of rends her soul. Wherever they are, whatever Earth this is, her axe is not here, and the effort of trying to call it exhausts her, leaving Bizarro to deal with Spiky Guard Man. The guy also confesses that basically everyone on this Earth is a dickbag. Apparently everyone felt opressed by superheroes, so when they lost their powers, they all rose up against them and killed them, flashbacks showing the defeats of Green Lantern John Stewart and Wonder Woman. Which, oh boy, has some problems not unlike the infamously bad "JLA: Act of God". I'll get into that at the end, but in short, Bizarro tells the guy that power doesn't make you a somebody--but it helps. And then he literally throws the guy into the sun. Damn.

Artemis wakes up, and she's pretty okay with Bizarro taking out that guy. The pair retreat, and catch sight of Dairy King, Air Quote, and some other goons looking to kill them. Of this group (including the ones already named), the only one of consequence is Flutterby, a woman with giant flaming butterfly wings. Like, what was even the point of setting up Dairy King earlier? No joke, he's not in the rest of the comic. Anyway, the pair begin to make a plan of what to do next, but are interrupted by a man in a purple waistcoat with a wide grin. He introduces himself as Jack Knife, and he'd like them to join his Resistance.

So we cut to six months later. This is right at the middle of the comic, so you could actually think of this as designed as being two separate issues they compiled into an annual to not interrupt Jason's ongoing story. This is especially evident by Jack Knife's appearance being followed with some "Will Artemis and Bizarro join the resistance!?" caption boxes that make little sense when you can just turn the page and find out that yes, they do. Anyways, six months later, and that Flutterby woman is being attacked by a man wearing an Iron Man suit made of cars. His name is Kennel, which is a pretty weird name for a guy who doesn't have dog powers.

Bizarro appears and destroys Kennel's suit with one punch. Flutterby begs Bizarro to finish the job, but Bizarro promised Artemis no killing. He takes a jewel from her, and walks away, deliberately pretending like he's not noticing her lingering behind to roast Kennel alive. After all, he promised he won't kill anybody. Bizarro is clever enough to figure out loopholes, I'm impressed. We cut over to the Pentagon, where Artemis is trying to get through a cell. Jack Knife is rambling to himself, and two guards show up. Artemis and Jack beat them up, but Artemis has to pull Jack away from getting more vicious.

Flutterby and Bizarro return to their own friends, which appears to be inside the fallen top of the Washington Monument. But enough of that scene! All we needed to see was them reuniting with their friends, I guess, because we then cut back to Artemis and Jack fighting their way deeper into the Pentagon. They've found the guy they're looking for: General Samuel Lane, Lois Lane's father. See, he's tired of imposing his will on this Earth. All the superheroes are dead, and the world is orderly now. So he's going to turn his attention elsewhere--or should I say elseworlds. He's planning to tunnel into Bizarro and Artemis' home Earth and kill all the superheroes there too.

But he can't do this alone. Enter the Lex Luthor of this planet, who has been turned into a giant mangled brain with a face, fused to an ATV. Lex reveals he was the one behind Hero Day, which also accounts for his current... condition. Like, I mean, at least MODOK or Hector Hammond still had arms. I'd also say they at least still had hair, too, but Lex was never particularly blessed in that department. Anyway, that's the past. What's important is the future, given Lex's plans and all. So how is he planning to get to Earth-Prime and kill the mainstream universe? Simple. Remember the Quantum Doorway that Bizarro and Artemis used to get here? Remember how it exploded? Lex has spent all this time putting it back together. Only took him six months, too! Guy must be a whiz at jigsaw puzzles. Or not--again, no arms~

He does, however, have psychic powers--because when you're a giant brain, you gotta have something--and zaps Artemis. While his guard is down during the zapping, though, the Resistance suddenly jumps in and attacks. They have a teleporter on their team, they just need someone to link between the two places. So it was all about getting Artemis in there, and having them follow. They also brought a big ol' sword for Artemis, who plunges it into Lex's brain--which is all of him--and kills him. They then slot that gemstone Flutterby retrieved into a device, hoping it'll undo the whole Hero Day event. The original heroes may be dead, but it beats having everyone else have powers, if they're all such psychos about it.

And... That's the end! Artemis and Bizarro say their farewells, and they go leaping into the Quantum Doorway, hoping that this leap will be the one that takes them home. We won't find out, however, because the ending tagline then promises to see if they return in Red Hood #37. Considering the last one I reviewed was issue 31, maybe I did this one a little early. But it's where it was in my stack, so why shouldn't it be correct~? Seemed like a great place for a break in the arc to me. Well, whatever. Come back in... mid-April, I guess, and we'll see if they made it back~

So, yeah. Let’s start with the Act of God problem first: not all superheroes have superpowers. They specifically show John Stewart getting killed here, and John is just a regular guy. The ring gives him abilities, but he is not himself a superhuman. A magic gene bomb--as it’s revealed to be the eventual cause of the mass depowering/empowering--should not have turned off his ability to use the ring. This also doesn’t account for other superheroes who don’t have powers--DC being pretty famous for this. There’s a desecrated statue of Batman in the Hall of Punishment, but shouldn’t Batman have gained powers from this event?

There’s one other question I would like to address. Jack Knife. His name, his appearance, his creepy grin, insane ramblings, violent demeanor... His entire physique (save for not having the white skin or green hair) and mannerisms call to mind the Joker. But there’s never any reveal of him being, like, a Joker who lost his superpower of being insane. I mean, that’d be bullshit, but at least it’d be an explanation for why he’s so... Jokery. That’s my big gripe here. The comic sets up this whole world for Artemis and Bizarro to struggle in, and then doesn’t want to explain any of the details of this world. This goes as far as Flutterby being one of the people hunting them down on one page, and then six months later, being part of the Resistance at the turn of a page.

We wanted to know what happened to Bizarro and Artemis, but I gotta say... the answer was extremely unsatisfying. And as a minor note, for a thing that only names Jason in the series title anymore (notice the switch to Red Hood: Outlaw), this issue sure barely had him factor into it in any significant way~

#comics #reviews #Red Hood and the Outlaws #Red Hood: Outlaw #Taiblog

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nerdsies · 5 years

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Seasonal Newsies: Autumn

part 4/4

Jack and Davey go on walks a lot, especially in Central Park. They hold hands and steal kisses when no one is looking. It’s disgustingly cute

Race does spot-on turkey impressions to make the littles laugh

Jack shows the littles how to make turkey paintings with their handprints

The Jacobs family has everyone (yes, everyone) over for Thanksgiving

Romeo and Mush steal Jack’s paints and use them to put inspirational quotes on leaves

Buttons sells tiny pillows embroidered with fall-themed things like leaves and cornucopias

Smalls wears sweaters two sizes too big

Albert wears turtleneck shirts with cardigans and walks down the middle of the road with one of Race’s cigars between his lips like he’s James Dean

Race doesn’t even mind

Finch tells everyone ghost stories once it’s dark and the fog rolls in

Everyone is SO EXCITED for Hallowe’en. Costumes. Decorations. Tricks. Treats. Scary stories. Jack ‘o’ lanterns. The lodgehouse is the most decked-out place in New York that night, and kids of all ages and social ranks visit for sweets, friendly pranks, and the nicest people they’ve ever met

Graves spends even more time in the graveyard than usual. Something about the crisp, chilly air, and the eerie fog rolling in, sets the perfect mood for some lurking. At least, he calls it lurking. But when Spot followed him one day to see what he actually does, he found Graves sitting in front of his parents’ headstones, telling them about how life was going in Brooklyn

“Yeah, and Hotshot - you remember Hotshot, he’s the one who stole my shoes my first day? - he’s actually warming up to me, I think. I mean, he doesn’t really talk to me, but yesterday he gave me the rest of his dinner even though I know he was still hungry. So...yeah. Oh, and Spot, he… I dunno. Don’t laugh, okay, Ma? But I think he actually likes having me around. Like, okay, so this morning, God, you would’ve loved this morning, Pa. The wind was racing but it wasn’t loud, and I remember how you used to stand right in the middle of the road with your arms out and let the wind hit you, remember that, Pa? You always said it was like a bird. Ha, actually, I know a guy named Finch now. You’d’ve liked Finch, I think. He’s got this slingshot that I stole once...oh, sorry, I’m rambling. Hotshot says I do that a lot. Remind you of anyone, Ma? Haha. Anyway, so this morning, I went with Spot to sell some papes - that’s what we call the newspapers - and when I wandered off to help this uptown kid tie his shoe, Spot started calling my name ‘cause he didn’t know where I was. Oh, ha, you’ll never believe what them Brooklyn boys call me. Can you guess? They call me Graves. As in...y’know. ‘Cause I spend so much time here. At least I used to. It’s been awhile since I came by, I know. Sorry. I just got busy. Bad excuse, I know, but...I did tell you guys I wouldn’t be able to visit as much in Summer. It’s too hot to be outside and the boys will see me sneakin’ outta the house. They really do care about me, I think. But...it’s still weird. I’m still new, even though it’s almost been a year. God, a year. That was a year ago, huh? I...damn, I miss you guys. Don’t tell the Brooklyn boys I was here, okay? I’d never hear the end of it...alright, I gotta go, I don’t wanna fall asleep here again. Good thing no one saw me the first few times. I’ll be back soon, I promise. I miss you, and… I love you.”

Spot cried

click here for winter ❄️

click here for spring 🌸

click here for summer ☀️

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eleanor-writes-stuff · 5 years

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and my heart goes boom, boom, boom [ficlet]

When Ben first decided to start a rival fireworks shop near his father’s place at the young age of eighteen, he didn’t really have much of a plan aside from “piss Dad off”.

But he can’t exactly say that to the beautiful girl behind the counter now, can he?

Earlier this week my sleep-deprived mind and I were scrolling down my dashboard when I came across this post about rival fireworks shops. @orkindofamazing had reblogged it with a couple of Reylo tags, and next thing I knew I had a ficlet on my hands.

So here’s the fireworks shop AU no one ever asked for.

First posted here. Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?

Ben Solo might well be the only kid in the world who can say he grew up splitting his free time between a Senator’s office and a smuggler’s illegal fireworks shop.

His father has been running Dishonest Don’s for as long as he can remember. Hell, his very first memory is of the shop, of being shut away in the back office and slowly sinking into the lumpy couch while his parents made annoyed faces and wild gestures at each other just beyond the window. It was all so funny and entertaining to young Ben until his mother stormed into the office, scooped him up, and shouted something about child-appropriate environments at his father while Ben waved goodbye over his mother’s shoulder.

He was back in the shop less than a week later, when his mother couldn’t find anyone else to watch him during her filibuster. Just this once, she told him and his father. This is the last time, she promised him two months later.

It wasn’t.

The last time was when he was thirteen and rumors were spreading about Senator Organa’s shady husband and Ben watched his father pick the stupid shop over his family.

The next time his mother tried to drop him off at Dishonest Don’s, Ben tried to convince her that he was old enough to stay home by himself. His mother agreed almost immediately, in what was probably the shortest argument in her entire life.

So from then on Ben stayed home and watched his father head off to work, and he sulked, and he seethed, and he plotted.

In lieu of a big bash with non-existent friends for his eighteenth birthday, Ben gets a typical Organa-Solo family dinner.

His father is actually home in time for dinner, for once, but he and Chewie talk about work all evening anyway.

Uncle Luke tries to ask him about school, then girls, then his future, until his mother takes mercy on him and drags her brother away under the guise of needing to consult him on a very important, very confidential matter.

There are a few others scattered here and there, familiar faces always in the background of nearly every birthday he’s ever had, but there’s only one Ben is interested in talking to.

“Happy birthday, kid!” Lando grins as he approaches, and Ben knows he’s made the right choice when his uncle toasts him with a beer and immediately proceeds to hand said beer to him. “Probably time to stop calling you that, huh? Eighteen. Eighteen,” he whistles. “Feels like just yesterday you were hiding in my cape to block out the fireworks. And now look at you. There’s no cape in the world big enough for you to hide in, young man!”

Ben drops his eyes to the ground, scuffs his feet for a bit, holds back a satisfied grin at Lando calling attention to his newly filled-out frame.

His uncle knows him well enough to change the subject.

“So, any plans, Benny? Eighteen’s a pretty big deal.”

He looks up, holds eye contact as he knocks back his beer. Is alcohol supposed to be involved when you pitch a business idea to your mysteriously rich uncle?

Either way, Ben figures it can’t hurt.

“Actually, on the subject of fireworks…”

At the ribbon cutting for Honest John’s, Han laughs until he’s doubled over on the sidewalk, tears streaming down his face.

It’s not exactly the reaction Ben was looking for, but he almost doesn’t mind when his father comes up to him later that day and squeezes his shoulder.

“This is… this is really something you’ve put together here, son. Much better than anything I could’ve come up with.”

Much more legal, too, but Ben keeps that thought to himself for once. Because his father is looking up at him, and he’s got a hand on Ben’s back, and for once Han smiles, actually smiles, when he says, “I’m proud of you, Ben.”

So maybe it’s not the confrontation Ben’s been itching for since he was thirteen and he saw tears in his mother’s eyes for the very first time as she tried to make his dad understand the consequences of his actions.

And yeah, it’s probably not going to turn into a fistfight that’ll finally give him the chance to wipe that cocky smirk of his father’s face.

But there’s a telltale shine in his mother’s eyes as she runs her hands over the counter he built, and there’s no sign of a smirk on his father’s face as he admires the rest of the shop, and when his parents meet in the middle they take each other’s hand and turn to him with a look of pride and joy that nearly chokes him up.

That’s good enough, Ben decides, and throws himself into running the best damn business he possibly can.

“Hey, Mitaka. Been a while,” Ben comments as he walks out from behind the counter to assist one of his oldest regulars.

He doesn’t mean anything by it, just a simple observation, but then Mitaka avoids his eye and looks down at the ground and-

“Sorry about that. It’s just, everyone said it’s different now with the new regulations, and of course you’d have to follow them because you’re above the board and all that, which is great, really, it’s great, but no one wants boring fireworks at a 4th of July party, you know? Not- not that I’m saying your stuff is boring-”

Ben frowns as he steps forward, resting a hand on the red-faced man’s shoulder. “Dude. Breathe.”

Mitaka does as instructed, even as he continues to twist his fingers together nervously. “So yeah, sorry it’s been a while. But I’m back now, and I’ll never go to Dishonest Don’s again, I promise-”

“Wait, wait,” Ben interrupts. “Dishonest Don’s? You’ve been going there?”

Mitaka looks like a kicked puppy as he nods.

“Why? You’ve been coming here for years! And you know they’re illegal-”

“But they’ve still got the meteor shower ones, and I know you’re not allowed to sell those anymore.”

This is news to Ben, who just received a box of said fireworks two hours ago. “Says who?” he demands incredulously.

“Um, well, everyone really, but mainly-” Mitaka pulls his phone out and opens up a familiar-looking website before handing it over to Ben.

The design is unmistakable, and the URL at the top can’t be a coincidence.

His father’s latest post is titled The Silent Night Act and what that means for you, which sounds nothing at all like the succinct announcements Ben’s gotten used to. New stuff, the posts usually read, followed by a slew of pictures and prices and nothing else. This… this article about new sound and light pollution regulations warning against hefty fines for those caught red-handed and watered-down versions from licensed sellers trying to toe the line sounds nothing at all like his usual style.

It’s also not like his father to stoop this low and try his hand at sabotage, but here they are anyway.

Ben throws the phone back at Mitaka and stalks towards the front door.

“Hux, watch the shop! I’ve got a fucking bone to pick with Han fucking Solo!”

Dishonest Don’s is both fifteen minutes and worlds away from Honest John’s. While Ben’s shop operates in a perfectly respectable area, it’s just a short walk away from shady repair shops, hole-in-the-wall spots, and, of course, the city’s worst-kept secret.

For fuck’s sake, his father even has the name of the shop spelled out in neon lights. The sign stopped working properly a long time ago, way before Ben hit puberty, but it’s still there, flickering every once in a while like some kind of prolonged death rattle-

Ben stops short right outside the door. For the first time in nearly fifteen years, the lights are working. Dishonest Don’s is spelled out in full, rather than the usual hoe on that’s greeted customers for as long as he can remember.

Inside is even more baffling. There are lights, actual lights bright enough for him to see where he’s going. There’s a bell over the door that announces his arrival. And most unexpected of all, there’s someone other than his father and Chewie standing behind the counter.

“Hi there, looking for something?”

She’s young (probably younger than him) and tall (for a girl) and beautiful (in every sense of the word) and Ben almost, almost blurts out you because when she smiles, it’s brighter than a thousand fireworks lighting up the night sky.

He shakes the thought away, stalks further into the shop and towards her to show her the post. “Where’s Han? We need to talk about this.”

The girl tilts her head. “What about it?”

“It’s- it’s-” Ben splutters, dropping his phone on the counter. “It’s slander! Fake news! Total and complete bullshit meant to sabotage me-”

“Wow, I did not expect this big of a reaction.”

Ben stops, considers her in silence for a beat. “Wait, what? What do you mean- you knew about this?”

“Of course I did,” the girl shrugs as she scrolls past the article on his phone. “I wrote it, after all.”

Everything comes to a screeching halt. The world stops making sense. Up is down and down is left and why in the hell would this random girl use his father’s website to sabotage his business?

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Ben demands, snatching his phone out of her hands. Small hands, rough hands, hands that look like they would fit perfectly into his own- “You lied about me!”

The girl shrugs. “Thought I’d make things interesting.”

“You stole my customers!”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, shifting her focus to the register. “Gotta meet those sale targets somehow.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

At this, she finally looks up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she retorts without missing a beat, without losing control. “What kind of asshole sets up shop right across the street just to piss off his father?”

Truth be told, sometimes Ben does look back at his teenage self and feel a slight bit of shame over his actions. But this stranger doesn’t need - or deserve - to know that.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s a long story,” he says dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around the shop and takes in the small changes she must be responsible for. Things are… things are actually organized, for once. And he can stand here without worrying that one of the highly flammable, highly explosive piles his father likes to keep things in is about to roast him to a crisp. It’s… nice, and Ben’s happy just looking around until-

“And I’ve got a long lunch break,” mystery girl replies easily, pinning him down with a challenge in her eyes. “So start talking, Honest John’s.”

There’s a chair on the other end of the counter, a little waiting seat of sorts. Ben remains silent until he’s settled down. “It’s, um… it’s Ben, by the way. Not John. Or Honest John.”

She smiles at him again; just one more and his heart will probably fail him. “Yeah, that sounds better. Fits you.”

And then she holds her hand out and offers him the beginning of everything.

“I’m Rey, in case you were wondering. Rey like sunshine, but with an E.”

Of course the only thing brighter than all the fireworks in the world is the sun herself.

So, um... yeah, that’s that. This is what happens when you attempt to write while severely sleep-deprived, kids.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed at least some part of this. Please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment!

#reylo #rey x ben solo #kylo ren/rey #rey/ben solo #rey/kylo ren #star wars #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #ficlet: boom #series: ao3 reblog #my fics #fic archive

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braincoins · 5 years

Text

“Of course you brought Chinese,” Matt chuckled as he held the door open.

“Someone has to look after you two,” Shiro told him as he walked in.

“We eat! Hell, Katie still lives at home most of the time; she gets Mom’s home cooking.”

“DO NOT CALL ME KATIE, MATTHEW!”

Shiro laughed at that. “Hi, Pidge!” he called. And before he knew it, she was wrapped around him, hugging him hello.

“Thank you for bringing us food! My brother has been starving me!” she wailed.

“We had pizza last night!” Matt cried out in self-defense. “And cereal this morning, and we walked over to Gino’s for lunch...”

“Starving,” Pidge maintained. Shiro let her grab the bag of Chinese food and make off with it.

“She’s a growing girl,” he reminded Matt. “So, I know we should probably eat first, but...”

“Impatient?” Matt chortled to himself. “Don’t worry about it; you don’t have to be polite with us. Come on in.”

Matt’s living room had the standard equipment: sofa, TV, game consoles, stereo. But it also had two desks pushed together, with back-to-back multi-monitor computer setups. One of the desks also had a laptop on it, which seemed unnecessary to Shiro, but he wasn’t going to press Matt on his methods.

The Holts were two of the best white hat hackers he’d ever known (not that he’d known many), and that they were fun and friendly was a bonus.

“Haven’t seen you on much lately,” Matt said.

“Been busy,” he replied.

“Busier than usual. Can I convince you to show up tonight? We could really use you.”

“Sorry, can’t.”

“Damn. Well, I’ll tell the guys I tried.”

“Say hi for me and give them my apologies, will you?” He pulled a chair up to Matt’s station.

“Sure.” Matt sat down as Pidge handed him the carton of General Tso’s. “Thanks, sis.”

“So, I’ve been working on the Galra stuff and Matt was looking up those people in the photos you sent last night,” she said.

“Yeah, let’s start with my end,” he said. “Entrepreneurs, businesspeople, CEOs. Some old money in there. But no one that’s involved in anything shady, unless you count Maria Villanova’s kickbacks to the hospital to promote their prosthetic. And that’s a pretty new thing, done specifically to counter Galra’s new up-and-coming prosthetic lines.”

“Yeah, I... may have heard about those.” Shiro pulled his sleeve up to show them.

“Oh wow, is that a GalraTech model?” Pidge asked. When he nodded, her eyes lit up. “Take it off, I want to see how it...”

“I can’t,” he told her, pulling his sleeve back down. “It doesn’t detach.”

“Weird,” Matt said. “How does it feel?”

“Weird,” Shiro confirmed. “But... good. Much better than the one I got from the hospital.”

“Huh. So maybe those kickbacks are pretty necessary,” he replied.

“My turn! I have all the cool stuff,” Pidge declared. She was only 15 but she’d already graduated high school. She was technically enrolled in online classes at State, but she’d been taking online courses from colleges all over the country for the last year or so. She split her time between her parents’ home and her brother’s apartment, supposedly so that she could have easier access to the downtown campus when she needed it. In reality, the only reason she wasn’t living with Matt full time was that he had a romantic life he wanted to indulge every now and then.

Thinking about that just made Shiro realize how long it had been. Adam had broken up with him... a year ago? Year and a half? Had it really been that long since he’d been held, been kissed, been loved? And it made him ache all over again at the feeling of Allura’s betrayal that really wasn’t a betrayal because they weren’t anything but co-workers and crime-fighting partners, but dammit, it had hurt like a betrayal. The main reason I never asked you out was because you were my boss, but you go out with your boss like it’s not a big deal? And that that boss was LOTOR of all people, and...

He shoved all that aside. “What’ve you got for me, Pidge?”

She grinned her crooked grin - a Holt trademark - at him. “Galra got all big and important because of some new energy source they claim to have.”

That got his attention. “Just as clean as solar but 10x as powerful?”

She nodded. “The very same. They’ve been peddling it to every manufacturer in every industry, doling out sample machines that just seem to run smoothly and cleanly forever. And ever since the, uh... accident,” her eyes jumped to his arm briefly, “they’ve even been talking with the DoD.”

“Department of Defense?”

She nodded. “Not just as an energy source for weapons systems but as a potential weapon itself.”

His stomach churned. “You’re telling me that this energy source - quintessence, I believe Dr. King called it - vaporized Zarkon’s wife and his response is to whip around and try to sell it off to the Pentagon?”

“Oh, it’s weirder than that,” Matt put in. “There hasn’t been a published obituary for Dr. King. Granted there’s no body to bury, but there hasn’t been a wake, a memorial, nothing.”

“He doesn’t even care that she’s dead?”

“Or he doesn’t think she is,” Pidge put in. “He hasn’t spoken much since the accident, but when he does, he refers to his wife in the present tense.”

Shiro shook his head. “She’s gone. She’s gone, gone like my arm is gone. There’s no way... She was standing right by the machine when it blew.”

“Pidge, tell him the good part,” Matt put in before popping some chicken into his mouth.

“A few months before the accident, Galra was doing some construction. They wanted a lab on the city outskirts, for testing slightly more dangerous stuff, I’d bet. I found some chatter - just rumor, mind you - that they found something when they were digging up the land they’d bought for the facility.”

“Like what?” Shiro asked her.

“Well, this is just my theory, but... you know the word ‘quintessential,’ right?”

He nodded. “Yes, I know a lot of big words,” he teased.

Her mouth twisted at him. “For millennia, philosophers and scientists believed that the world we inhabit was entirely made up of four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. Aristotle added a fifth element, the aether: the material that fills the rest of space, mostly invisibly but sometimes taking the form of stars and planets. Many writers described aether as a kind of invisible light or fire - you know, like an energy source? In the Middle Ages, it was referred to as the quinta essentia - the fifth element. Quinta essentia came to stand for anything so perfect that it seemed to surpass the limitations of Earth.

“So, what if - now just hear me out - this thing they found wasn’t terrestrial in origin?”

“Pidge,” he groaned.

“What if they found a piece of alien technology and...”

“Pidge, will you stop with your alien conspiracy theories?”

“It’s not a conspiracy theory! Not this time, anyway. It makes perfect sense! Tech from a super-advanced alien civilization that Dr. King was able to reverse-engineer and...”

“Look, Pidge, I’m sure there are aliens out there, but there’s nothing saying they’ve been coming to Earth. We’re such a tiny planet in an otherwise unremarkable part of a huge galaxy...”

“I’m not even talking about that!” she insisted. “It could be debris or something! I’m not saying aliens landed on Earth - at least, not this time I’m not - just that something extraterrestrial was dug up and that’s why Galra’s tech division suddenly has unlimited clean power out of nowhere!”

Shiro looked to Matt for help.

He just shrugged. “Dr. King was a genius; it’s not outside the realm of possibility that she created it herself. But then again, all geniuses have stood on the shoulders of those who came before them. It’s also worth considering that she found something to use as the basis for her further discoveries.”

“You’re a good brother,” he told Matt, because what else could he say in response to that dissembling bit of nonsense? He was clearly just trying to back his sister up on her crazy theories.

“I’m not crazy,” Pidge told him as if she’d heard his thoughts. “If they’d found something normal, we would have heard about it. But it took me a lot of digging to find out about this. They kept it hush-hush.”

Shiro held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m willing to concede they found something that they wanted to keep secret. And that it’s possible that they used it as the basis for what became their ‘quintessence’ they’re peddling. But do you really think it’s... I dunno, alien star energy or something?”

She made a thoughtful noise. “I don’t know. I mean, the ancient philosophers also believed in alchemy and astrology and nonsense like that. But I think it’s something... fundamental. Something truly quintessential.”

“Yeah,” Matt put in, “scientists don’t always come up with the best names for things. Like ‘Jupiter’s Red Spot’ - how boring and on the nose can you get?”

“They also come up with names like ‘deoxyribonucleic acid,’” Shiro replied.

“Okay, point. But my point is that maybe she called it quintessence not because it’s some long-lost, non-Bruce Willis-related ‘fifth element’ but because she viewed it as something quintessential to the universe.” He shrugged.

“Whatever it is, that quintessence is powerful enough to be getting them a lot of industry and government attention,” Pidge concluded. “But the weird part is...”

“...why aren’t they announcing it?” Shiro finished for her. “Well, to be fair, they tried, and looked what happened.” He held out his right arm as proof.

“Yeah, but that was a local demonstration for local reporters. They’ve been really cagey with this stuff.”

“Hmm, good point.” He smiled. “Thanks. As usual, you two do amazing work.”

“Naturally,” Pidge said.

“We’ll email it all to you,” Matt said. “As soon as we get our fee?”

“Of course. I’m covering it this time; new owner’s locked down the discretionary funds.” Just as I knew he would.

“Oh yeah - the son of Galra’s CEO?” Pidge asked. “That’s gotta be fun.”

He wasn’t surprised she’d found that out. “Yeah, it’s fantastic. Fortunately he doesn’t know what I’m working on.”

“Yeah, he’d shut that down quick, fast, and in a hurry,” Matt agreed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.” He stood. “Enjoy the Chinese. I’ll send the money over when I get home.” He headed for the door.

“If your plans for tonight fall through, log on!” Matt called after him.

“Will do, but don’t expect me!” I’m going to have to talk to Starlight about this. Assuming she shows up tonight. His heartache could wait. Galra - and its CEO - were definitely up to something, and he intended to find out what. His mind raced on the information he’d just received, distracting him from that lingering off-putting thrum from his right arm.

{Previously in The Adventures of Starlight & Paladin…}

#Starlight/Paladin #Shallura #Socks writes Voltron fanfic #superhero AU #and thank you Merriam-Webster #LOOK EVERYONE - PLOT!

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jbuffyangel · 5 years

Note

With Emiko coming on & all the FF stuff, Arrow is getting way too bloated, taking time away from the core characters. Why do you think the EPs are so reluctant to get rid of NTA? Are they assuming a strong fan base or something? I agree that Curtis should be gone & would prefer to see less Dinah & Rene. Do you think SA is tired of shooting & wants more time off? Seems like a no brainer to have more OTA but sounds like that will take time. Bring Overwatch & GA back at least. Great blog! Tx.

I think... the show is the show Anon. The showrunners/writers pick a road and they go down it for better or for worse. They film several episodes ahead and can’t turn on a dime based on fan response.

Arrow is seldom if ever written based on fan response. It’s physically impossible. All the things we love about the show were decided on before fan input (Olicity, OTA). The same goes with the things we don’t like. I think there’s a general game plan before the season begins. I’m sure the previous season’s failures and successes are taken into account, but then they pick a direction for the season and away we go.

I feel confident the writers know the NTA civil war storyline was poorly received. Hence the reason they are pretending like it never happened. I feel like this is their typical reaction when a storyline doesn’t work. They don’t really go about “fixing” it. They just act like it never happened. Oliver & LL’s romantic relationship is a great example. If it doesn’t work then the writers don’t waste anymore time on it. Those storylines end up on some mystical island where all the Suicide Squad characters, Sin and Walter live.

We’re always screaming for more OTA. Every. Single. Season. It’s like clockwork. But we get what we get. Arrow is going to give us as much OTA as they see fit. If screaming online for more OTA worked then well... we’d actually get the amount of OTA we want. But we don’t. It is what it is.

I don’t know the reasoning entirely behind it. On one hand, I’ve always thought the reason we are always begging for more OTA is because it is parceled out bit by bit. Everything on television gets old eventually, so if all we ever had for the last seven years was OTA all the time then I think it’s highly likely the audience would grow fatigued. OTA & Olicity are Arrow’s bread & butter, so if the audience grows tired of it then they’re up a creek because that’s the show.

I’m not talking about the deeply obsessed. It’s hard to imagine ever growing tired of Olicity or OTA, but we’re in a class by ourselves. ;)

Arrow always focuses on OTA and Olicity during the sweeps episodes (premiere, mid season, mid season premiere, final three eps and finale). It’s not a hard an fast rule, but I think generally they do. So, that always tells you how important they believe Diggle, Felicity and Oliver are. But then they intersperse it with other storylines and characters. A 23 episode season is a lot to fill.

It’s highly unlikely they would gut half their cast. Arrow has evolved to include more characters and we’ll never go back to the days of OTA only. To be fair, it was only OTA for a very very short period of time. This show is always adding and subtracting characters. They’ve never focused ONLY on the core characters.

Even in Season 1 and the highly loved glory days of Season 2 there was a shit ton of other stuff going on. If memory serves, Diggle & Felicity didn’t really score all that much screen time quite frankly. It was a lot about the Lance family, Thea, Moira, Roy, flashbacks, etc.

There’s always a lot of characters on Arrow and a lot of storylines cooking. I don’t feel the show has changed all that much in that regard. Nobody likes it when I say this, but I’ve been saying it for years and I’m gonna keep on saying it because it’s what I think. lol

I also think it can be tough as a viewer to gauge fan response. I may not like Curtis and the newbies but that doesn’t represent the Arrow audience as a whole. The majority of online fandom may feel one way but that doesn’t equate to the entire Arrow audience either.

I’m sure there are internal numbers we are not privy to. In fact I know there are because that’s how film/tv works. It’s entirely possible the NTA actors’ Q scores are high or some other data I don’t even know the name of is favorable. Something is working for someone somewhere.

But I don’t think our opinions have gone completely unheard. Felicity was driving the A storyline. Her focus increased a ton. They managed to keep a spotlight on Olicity even when they were physically separated. A feat I never imagined would happen. They have pulled back on both Curtis and Rene A LOT this season. Particularly Curtis. Rene’s main storyline was helping Felicity. More time with Felicity always equates to character rehab (I’m side eyeing Bl*ck S*r*en right now). But the pull back on Curtis and the rehab on BS & Rene has worked for me at least.

I agree there’s been a lot of Dinah. But that’s because they’ve introduced the flash forwards and she’s pulling double duty in present & future. She has the boring exposition job of filling all the other characters in on what happened in the FF. Dinah also has to sell this “Felicity is evil and dead” storyline, which just makes her sound judgey and mean. Maybe the writers chose her because she seemed like the newbie character fans liked the most or hated the least, based on your perspective.

They are holding off on the flash forward reveals with the core characters because they are the core characters. They writers understand all we want to know is where the hell Diggle, Felicity and Oliver are. Thus, they are dragging it out. Dramatic television is seldom if ever about making fans happy. Most of the time it’s just about torturing us.

It doesn’t automatically equate to good television. I think the flash forwards are too dark and we need to be given some hope asap. The big FF tease so we tune into 7x10 was, “Find out where Rene is!” Uhhh that is not going to make me run to my television, guys. Pass. I don’t care. I won’t care until it’s Diggle, Felicity and Oliver. On some basic level I think the writers understand that.

They will eventually bring back Overwatch and Green Arrow. The band will get back together because it’s a crime fighting television show about superheroes. Just because Oliver is working for Dinah in SCPD for a couple of episodes doesn’t mean they are chucking the entire concept of the show. But it’s mid season slump time and we gotta sludge our way through 7x11-7x16. If we’re lucky we’ll get some bright spots and solid drama. If we’re unlucky well... it wouldn’t be the first season we just don’t talk about 11-16.

Honestly, OTA concerns me less than Diggle. That’s the character I would like some focus on. An individual storyline where his character makes a damn bit of sense would be fantastic. Once Diggle figures out his shit then we can send him on home to Oliver and Felicity’s loving arms.

I agree the cast is pretty bloated, but the nice thing about bloated casts is it gives the writers plenty of characters to kill without touching our faves. What can I say? I’m a glass half full kind of girl. ;)

#asks #arrow #arrow season 7 #arrow cast #anti newbies #anti nta #anti new team arrow #newbies meta #ota #original team arrow #ota meta #arrow production #john diggle #anti curtis holt #Anonymous

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welcometothepenumbra · 5 years

Text

JUNO STEEL AND THE KITTY-CAT CAPER (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you'll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Cornered by three hired guns in the storeroom of a designer pets laboratory, Detective Steel has found P.I. work to be just as exciting as he remembered. He had better find a way to escape, and quickly, because he isn’t the only victim the killers have their eyes on. The clock is ticking.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Kitty-Cat Caper.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

PIRANHA: (THROUGH THE DOOR) What do you mean, the key don’t work?

MONROVIAN: (THROUGH THE DOOR) I’m just an old man, miss, my memory isn’t what it used to be. Not that it was ever terribly—

PIRANHA: Shut up! Bosco?

BOSCO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Yeah, Boss?

PIRANHA: If you hear one more excuse outta this raisin, you break his little neck.

BOSCO: (YAWNS) Sounds good, boss.

MONROVIAN: (WHIMPERS)

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Hyperion City’s a reinforced-plastic jungle, and it operates by the cardinal rule of all jungles: kill, get killed, or throw someone else in front of the killer and run for it.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye, and I get a lot of practice in that third option. It’s easy: just piss off everyone until they all want to kill you, then make ‘em fight over the privilege. When you’re as charming as I am, making people want to kill you is just second nature.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Hi, Mista Steel! Thanks for waiting until the commercial.

JUNO: I didn’t… nevermind. Look, I’ve only got a minute, so you need to listen up. There’s a big computer back here with some data I need, but I can’t figure out how to get it. Where would I find the records on all the cats that have gone through this place?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Well… the records gotta be on the database somewhere. What’s the screen say now?

JUNO: The screen’s blank, Rita, that’s why I called you.

RITA (FROM COMMS): …what? Mista Steel, did you turn the computer on?

JUNO: Well, how was I supposed to know that I had to do that?

RITA (FROM COMMS): There… there should be a big button. Somewhere on the computer.

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, I see it.

SOUND: BEEP. MACHINE POWERING UP.

It’s starting up now. How long’s this thing gonna take?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Sounds pretty old. Gonna take a few minutes.

SOUND: DISTANT CRASH.

PIRANHA: Next time that’s gonna be your face, Monrovian!

MONROVIAN: Oh, just a moment, please, this must be the wrong key, oh, forgetful me, I just need to pop into my apartment upstairs, just a moment, just a moment…

JUNO: Here’s hoping I have a few minutes. (SIGHS) So, did you research that cat like I asked you to?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Yeah! Pretty little kitty. She’s a Shangoan Mini-Leopard. Galactic Cat Lovers Quarterly says they’re real popular with high-powered businesspeople these days: Drake Draco, Min Kanagawa, Maia King—

JUNO: I don’t care who owns them, Rita, what’s it worth?

RITA (FROM COMMS): I don’t like all this talk about what a life’s worth, Mista Steel! It’s so insensitive. What would you say if someone asked you what I’m worth?

JUNO: Forty creds an hour.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Aww, boss, you’re makin’ me blush.

JUNO: If someone wanted to sell one of these Shangoan Mini-Leopards, what would they get?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Closest pet store sells ‘em for about four hundred creds.

JUNO: Four hundred! That’s it? King had silverware worth more than four hundred…

RITA (FROM COMMS): Wait – is this a surprise?! Are we getting a kitty for the office?! Are you gonna come home with a kitty in each arm?!

JUNO: No, Ri—

Hang on… hang on, a minute ago, you were listing high-powered people with Mini-Leopards. What were their names again?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Huh? Oh. Drake Draco, Min Kanagawa, Maia King—

JUNO: King! High-powered? That’s our client, Rita. She looks like she can barely take care of herself.

RITA (FROM COMMS): She’s a real estate lawyer, boss – one of the best in the city. She’s in the middle of this big class-action lawsuit against Babbling Brook Realty. Sounds like they’ve been sellin’ off all their apartment buildings across Hyperion City and kickin’ out all the tenants without notice.

JUNO: That’s huge. Why haven’t I heard about that before today?

RITA (FROM COMMS): I don’t know, boss. You’ve been tellin’ me to keep the streams off in the office because they’re always goin’ on about the election.

JUNO: Class-action lawsuit… Babbling Brook Realty… huh.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC JINGLE.

Alright, computer’s on, King can wait. Get me into the records, Rita.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Okay, boss. Now you gotta open up the central database. Once you do that, you can talk about what kinda password encryption they’re usin’.

JUNO: Whoa, whoa, slow down. Open up what?

RITA (FROM COMMS): It should be easy to find, Mista Steel. Most people just link it to their desktop.

JUNO: I’m looking at the desk right now, Rita, but all I can see is a couple pens and a coffee stain.

RITA (FROM COMMS): …Mista Steel, you’re joking, right? You’ve… used a computer before.

JUNO: I have one in my office, don’t I?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh, good, because I was worried—

JUNO: I got the high score for Jovian Solitaire on that thing. Twice.

RITA (FROM COMMS): …Fifteen years. You think you know a guy, but it turns out it takes fifteen years to find out he’s a caveman.

JUNO: So what if I don’t know about all this computer junk? That’s what I have you for!

SOUND: DISTANT SLAM.

PIRANHA: That better be the key, Monrovian! Or else what’re we gonna do, Bosco?

BOSCO: We’re gonna punch his legs off, boss.

MONROVIAN: Oh, I’m quite certain this is it, quite certain. Just give me a moment…

JUNO: Rita, we’re out of time. Get me into those records!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh, just let me do it! Put your comms down on the computer!

JUNO: Which part?

RITA (FROM COMMS): THE COMPUTER PART ALRIGHT JUST PUT THE COMMS DOWN MISTA STEEL!!!

JUNO: Alright, alright, jeez…

RITA (FROM COMMS): Do I gotta do everythin’ around here…

PIRANHA: Monrovian…

MONROVIAN: I’ve unlocked it, I swear! There’s something holding the door closed!

JUNO: Rita, I need that data now!

RITA (FROM COMMS): You’re makin’ me invent a whole way to hack wirelessly through your stupid comms, Mista Steel, so I don’t wanna hear it!

PIRANHA: Bosco, you know what to do.

BOSCO: Yeah, boss.

SOUND: DISTANT GRUNT, THUD.

JUNO: Rita…

RITA (FROM COMMS): Shush!

SOUND: DISTANT GRUNT, THUD.

JUNO: Gotta go, Rita. Good luck!

RITA (FROM COMMS): MISTA STEEL DON’T YOU HANG UP ON ME I’M RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE’A—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Sleeping Beauty gave the door one last shove…

BOSCO: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: CRASH, WOOD SPLINTERING, LOUD CLATTERING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): …and it all came tumbling down. So I slipped my comms into my pocket and then slipped behind an operating table deep in the storeroom.

PIRANHA: You first, Monrovian.

MONROVIAN: B-b-but I’m not even armed!

PIRANHA: Here.

SOUND: CLUNK.

Now y’are, see?

BOSCO: Heh.

MONROVIAN: (NERVOUS MOAN)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Out of reflex, my hand went to my blaster… and that’s when I remembered my eye.

In a situation like this, I had two shots, tops, before they figured out where I was and started shooting back. The old Juno Steel would’ve made those shots in a second. But now, with this stupid eyepatch? Forget two shots – I couldn’t hit him if I had two dozen.

So, I’d have to settle this without the blaster. As for how I’d do that… I hadn’t quite figured that part out yet.

I reached up onto the operating table and snatched a scalpel. It wasn’t much, but these days, neither was I.

PIRANHA: Monrovian, you take the right wall. Bosco, you take left. I’ll stay here and make sure he doesn’t get away.

You hear that, P.I.? Come out, come out, wherever you are!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked around the corner. The doctor was coming my way, holding his gun out like a dead rat. I wouldn’t need my blaster to take him down.

MONROVIAN: Come here, young man… Perhaps, well, you may not like tea, but coffee, yes, coffee…?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I waited for him to come within arm’s reach. Then I arm’s-reached.

SOUND: THUD, RUSTLING.

BOSCO: Doc? Hey, doc, you out there?

MONROVIAN: Don’t hurt me, oh please, that scalpel is terribly filthy and I—

JUNO: If you don’t want to know what impromptu surgery feels like coming from a one-eyed maniac with nothing to lose, doc, I’d recommend you keep quiet.

MONROVIAN: (WHIMPERS)

PIRANHA: What’s the matter, Bosco?

BOSCO: Thought I heard a noise, boss.

PIRANHA: It was probably just your two brain cells clacking together.

BOSCO: Come on, boss, that ain’t fair, you know the doc says I got sleep-type problems like that ‘somnia stuff—

PIRANHA: Shut up! Hey, Monrovian, you dead?

JUNO: (WHISPERING) Tell them you’re fine.

MONROVIAN: (WHISPERING) Well, now am I to talk or not to talk? This is entirely too confusing.

JUNO: Just say it!

MONROVIAN: Oh, please don’t hit me again, my medical insurance just isn’t what it used to be and who has the money for—

JUNO (NARRATOR): There was no time. I clocked Monrovian cold.

MONROVIAN: Oof!

SOUND: PUNCH, THUMP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And then I had to think. Fast.

PIRANHA: Bosco! Go check it out!

BOSCO: Alright, boss.

JUNO: (WHISPERING) Damn it, damn it…

(TERRIBLE MONROVIAN IMPRESSION) Oh, don’t worry about me! I’m fine, you young… people.

BOSCO: I dunno, sounds like he’s okay, boss.

PIRANHA: I can’t hear you, Monrovian! Speak up!

JUNO: (JUST THE WORST MONROVIAN IMPRESSION) Well, alright.

PIRANHA: What’d he say?

BOSCO: He said he was gonna speak up, boss.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked through the old man’s pockets for a weapon, but he wasn’t carrying so much as a pocketknife. Just his wallet and a folded-up envelope holding enough creds to choke a bank teller.

JUNO: (MUTTERING) On the take, huh…

PIRANHA: I’ve had enough of him. Bosco, finish Monrovian while you’re at it.

BOSCO: Sure, boss.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

JUNO: Uh-oh.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I wasn’t sure how I was going to take down tall, dumb, and stupid, but I knew it wasn’t gonna be head-on. The rest of the storeroom was full of standing shelves, so I crept behind one and waited.

BOSCO: Doc? Hey, doc? (YAWNS) Hey, boss? The doc’s either dead or he’s takin’ a nap.

PIRANHA: A nap…? You idiot, the P.I. probably got to him!

That’s it, I’m coming in! Watch the door!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Piranha-face was coming closer, gun ready – and it looked like she knew how to use it. I’d have to surprise them both. I nudged the shelf, and it shook like Rita after half a latte. And then I had my plan.

PIRANHA: He’s knocked out.

BOSCO: Don’t look at me, boss, I didn’t touch him.

PIRANHA: You were supposed to—! Damn it, it doesn’t matter! We’re gonna squish that P.I., then we squash him, see?

JUNO (NARRATOR): They were both right in front of me, standing in the shadow of the shelf. I pressed my weight against it, but it was heavy. I kept pushing, harder.

SOUND: METAL CREAKING, CLANGING.

PIRANHA: What’s that noise?

BOSCO: Sorry, boss.

PIRANHA: No, not you! I mean—

JUNO (NARRATOR): Her tiny, mean eyes met mine through the shelves. I gave one last push.

SOUND: METAL CREAKING.

PIRANHA: He’s right there! Get—

SOUND: LOUD CRASH & CLATTER.

JUNO: (PANTING) Timber.

So. Looks like I got you two right where I want you: beneath about a hundred pounds of industrial shelving. You gonna talk, or do I have to get uglier than usual?

Oh, come on, I don’t believe for a second you’re finished after one little—

BOSCO: (ROARS)

SOUND: CRASH.

JUNO: (CHOKING) …shelf!

JUNO (NARRATOR): A paw cracked through the wreckage and grabbed me by the throat.

Then the big guy stood up. He was tall. Real tall. My-toes-left-the-ground-and-kept-going-for-another-foot kind of tall.

BOSCO: Whaddaya think you’re doin’? You could hurt someone playin’ around like that, ya know.

JUNO: (CHOKING) That was kind of the idea, yeah. (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SWISH.

Umm…

BOSCO: (YAWN)

JUNO: (CHOKING) Hey, big guy, you mind bringing me a little closer? I can’t quite reach your face.

SOUND: CLUNK.

BOSCO: No way, buddy. Thanks for the gun.

JUNO: (CHOKING) Hey!

BOSCO: Heh.

JUNO: (CHOKING) Hey, you’re pretty quick. Fastest grizzly bear I’ve ever met. Ready to hibernate, too, by the look of you.

SOUND: SQUEEZING.

BOSCO: You can say that again, buddy. Anyway, say bye-bye to your neck.

JUNO: (CHOKING) So smart! In fact, I bet you just realized that that gun’s no danger in my hands anyway, I mean, it’s not like I’d be stupid enough to try to—

BOSCO: It’s way too early for you to talk that fast, buddy.

JUNO: What I mean is…

Hey, did you know they added another setting to those pistols? Sleep laser. Gives you a good night’s sleep like you’ve never had before. Insomniacs swear by it.

BOSCO: They… whuh?

I mean… yeah. Yeah, I knew that.

JUNO: You just gotta flip that switch there—

SOUND: CLICK.

BOSCO: Now it says ‘stun.’

JUNO: Yeah, it’s Venusian for ‘naptime.’ Here, I’ll show you. Just toss that thing to me.

BOSCO: If you say so.

SOUND: CLUNK.

JUNO: Thanks, big guy.

BOSCO: You’re welcome.

Hey, wait a second—

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. HEAVY THUD.

JUNO: Nighty-night. (COUGHING)

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Hey, Rita. You got those results?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel! You got no idea what I been through! I had barely half a foothold when you hung up and then, I had to invent a whole ‘nother kind of uplink on the fly, and I only had a few seconds and oh man boss I feel like I really need a nap and a can of cheese to get all that energy back and I ain’t built for this you hear me I ain’t—

JUNO: I’ll pick up the cheese on the way back. Just tell me about the cat.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Yeah, of course they made a cat like that; just a couple weeks ago. I don’t know who it was commissioned by, though; that part of the record’s been wiped.

JUNO: I think I can tell you that.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Well, if you already knew, then how come I hadda exhaust myself and miss half my show??

JUNO: Just took down a few people who’ve been paying off the guy who runs this place; I’ll see if I can find some… ID…

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

There it is. “Bosco Hindenburg, Security Officer for Babbling Brook Realty.” Rita, that’s the place King’s suing, right?

RITA (FROM COMMS): It is! Oh boy, boss, this is real excitin’!

JUNO: It is, isn’t it.

So we know that Babbling Brook has something against King, but what’s stealing her cat got to do with it? And even then, why would they go to all that trouble to replace it with a perfect replica?

Unless… the point isn’t to steal her cat… it’s to sneak in the other one.

We’ve been looking at the wrong cat. The important cat’s not the one they stole – it’s the one they left behind.

RITA (FROM COMMS): That’s… but… what could be so special about the fake cat, boss?

JUNO: Monrovian said they don’t make cats, just rearrange them… and in this room back here there’s that operating table, all those surgical suppli—

Rita. Did Monrovian keep any surgical records for the cat?

RITA (FROM COMMS): I don’t think so, unless…

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

Oh! Found ‘em!

JUNO: Anything interesting?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Just one surgery… Aw, it was on her poor widdle belly! It wooks wike cutie widdle kittie had a widdle bellyache, so the doctor– put a bomb inside of her belly OH MY GOD—!

JUNO: Put a what?!

RITA (FROM COMMS): No– no– no-no-no-no-no! Kittie kittie what are we gonna do Mista Steel what are we gonna do?!?

JUNO: Does it say what sets the bomb off?

RITA (FROM COMMS): It’s– it’s– it’s– it’s– it’s a time bomb, boss! Who knows how much longer she’s got!! (BAWLING)

JUNO: God damn it, Rita, snap out of it! There’s got to be a way to disarm it, right? Find it!

RITA (FROM COMMS): (SNIFFLING) O-okay, boss.

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

Okay, okay, Mista Steel. The doctor left a note here that says there’s a remote that should stop the bomb. Says it’s on loan to B.B. Realty Security Officer Hindenburg and a… private contractor.

JUNO: Must be the Piranha-woman. At least I’ve got ‘em both here.

SOUND: CLANKING.

The big guy didn’t have it, so it must be somewhere on… that Piranha…

She has to be under this shelf; her gun’s here. But… where the hell did she go?

RITA (FROM COMMS): You gotta find that remote, Mista Steel! Nine lives are on the line! Plus Miss King makes ten!

JUNO: I know, I know, Rita, but she isn’t…

SOUND: DISTANT CAR ENGINE STARTS.

No!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I ran out of the storeroom and looked outside. That electric-blue car was starting up again, and behind the wheel was that Piranha. King’s real cat was pawing at the back window, yowling. And the gate to the street was opening.

SOUND: DISTANT GATE CREAKING OPEN.

JUNO: Damn it! Rita, can you stop that gate?

RITA (FROM COMMS): What gate? You– you know I’m not actually there with you, right, boss?

JUNO: Never mind!

Monrovian could control the gate from in here, which means there must be a… control panel!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I pressed the magic button—

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

—and the gate outside stopped. But the Piranha’s car didn’t.

SOUND: ENGINE REVVING.

JUNO: She’s not gonna… no, she wouldn’t. That’d be nuts.

SOUND: TIRES SQUEALING, CRASH, RATTLING.

PIRANHA: (DISTANT CACKLING)

JUNO: Huh. Guess I walked into that one.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel? What’s goin’ on?

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: (PANTING) That lunatic just crashed her car through Monrovian’s gate. Looks like the car’s totaled; I’m gonna make sure the driver is, too. You call King and tell her to get the hell away from that cat!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Be careful, boss!

JUNO: Not likely, but I’ll keep you updated.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The Piranha was pulling herself out of the wreckage when I got there. She looked battered, bruised, and meaner than ever.

PIRANHA: (GRUNTING, LAUGHING)

JUNO: Looks like you’re having fun. Why don’t you just stay right there? The HCPD can get you out of that car in two shakes of a plasma chainsaw.

PIRANHA: (GRUNTS) I don’t think so, P.I. (CACKLING) I reeeeeally don’t think so.

JUNO: Oh, come on. You’re gonna resist? Really? I’ve got your gun; you’re fresh out of cars. The hell do you have left?

SOUND: MEOW.

JUNO: Oh, you’re kidding me.

PIRANHA: This is a hostage situation, P.I. Stay back, unless you want little kitten to go kaboom. (LAUGHS) And besides… I think you got bigger fish to fry. There’s a special surprise in kitty-cat’s twin, and you only got… fifteen minutes before that thing blows.

JUNO: Bigger fish to fry? Maybe. But I can’t think of any I’ll have more fun fry—

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Hey, you can’t run away while I’m doin’ a bit! Get back here!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Ooh! Oooooh! Are you in ‘hot pursuit,’ boss?

JUNO: (PANTING) Trying to focus, Rita.

RITA (FROM COMMS): But I looooooove chases! I love all kindsa chases, car chases and foot chases and spaceship chases and really fast animal chases, but you never take me and it ain’t fair, Mista Steel! You gotta tell me everything that’s goin’ on!!

SOUND: TRAFFIC.

JUNO: Fine. She’s going fast. I’m going fast. Eventually one of us will go faster than the other and the chase will be over, the end—

SOUND: CAR HORN.

Whoa!! Hey, watch it, buddy, crosswalk’s right there!

DRIVER: (DISTANT) No it isn’t!

RITA (FROM COMMS): See? That’s more like it! Action, drama! You gotta start shootin’, Mista Steel! Pew-pew, screeeeee, vroom—

JUNO: Not really in the plan, Rita.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Then what! Even! Is the point!!

JUNO: Look, my aim isn’t what it used to be, alright?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh, how do you know that? You’ve barely even tried, Mista Steel!

JUNO: But my eye—

RITA (FROM COMMS): Boss, you’ve fired that gun’a yours maybe three times since you lost your eye. Is that really what you’re all upset about?

JUNO: No, but… she’s got a hostage, okay? And even if the hostage is a stupid cat, I’m not gonna risk hurting it!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Awww, that’s so sweet! You’d really do that for a wittle kitty?

JUNO: It’s not some great charity to avoid killing a cat, Rita. You’d have to be some kind of monster to want to kill some innocent… cat.

PIRANHA: (LAUGHING)

JUNO: You gotta be kidding me.

RITA (FROM COMMS): What is it, Mista Steel? What’s happenin’, I can’t see, I can’t see!

JUNO: This psycho’s holding the cat out in the goddamn street!

PIRANHA: I told you not to follow me, P.I.!

JUNO: Hey, I-I thought you were kidding! How was I supposed to know you were serious?

PIRANHA: Serious! (CACKLES) You think I ain’t serious? You think I like to play games? Well, why don’t we play one now: here’s a little game called “Catch the Kitty on the Freeway!”

JUNO: No! Let’s not play that game! That sounds like a really, really bad game!

PIRANHA: Here we go! In one… two… three!

PIPPA: (YOWLS)

SOUND: CARS HONKING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): She threw the cat into the street.

…She threw the cat into the street.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel!

JUNO: (YELLING)

SOUND: SQUEALING BRAKES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The cat landed on its feet like it took flights onto freeways every day, but it wasn’t the freeway I was worried about: it was the cars.

SOUND: HONKING, YELLING.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel! Mista Steel, are you alright?

JUNO: Yeah, I’m fine. Caused a twenty-car pileup, but the only thing I lost was my eardrums.

RITA (FROM COMMS): You gotta chase her again, boss! She’s gettin’ away with the deactivator!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked past the junked-up cars and saw that the Piranha was just a dot in the distance, now. I’d never catch up. I wasn’t fast enough.

But a laser… one laser, aimed just right…

RITA (FROM COMMS): Boss, you can do it! I know you can! You’re Juno Steel, remember? The winner of the HCPD’s Sharpshootin’ contest three years in a row!

JUNO: I know, I know!

(QUIETLY) I can do it. I can do it. Just aim… focus… and…

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

RITA (FROM COMMS): …So? Did you get her? …Mista Steel?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Piranha-face looked at me one last time and laughed. She stopped for a second and showed me something in her hand.

A remote. The deactivator for her cat-bomb.

She waggled it a few times, stuck out a tongue that was a few inches longer than regulation, and disappeared into an alley.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Come on, Mista Steel, you know I can’t handle suspense! Did you make the shot??

JUNO: Rita, earlier, when I told you to call Maia King… did you get a hold of her?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Nuh-uh, boss, her phone was busy… and her office said she’s always on call in her apartment at this time of day… and… didja get the Piranha lady?

JUNO: Rita, we need to get to Maia King’s apartment right now. Run there if you have to.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Oh no, oh no, Mista Steel—

JUNO: Don’t “oh no Mista Steel” me! Get over there! That cat’s gonna blow any second now, and Maia King’s not going to die!

RITA (FROM COMMS): Alright, boss. I’m on my way.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I booked it to King’s apartment in record time, and from the pain in my chest I guessed that the trip only cost me a lung. Rita was making her way up the stairs when I got there.

RITA: (PANTING) M-Mista Steel! I’m so glad you’re here! I never deactivated a cat before an’ I was just thinkin’ I have no idea what to do and—

Aww, boss, that is the cutest widdle kitty I have ever seen!

SOUND: MEOW.

JUNO: (PANTING) You like it? You take it. It’s been carving up my arm for six blocks now.

SOUND: YOWL.

RITA: Ooh! Be careful, boss, I coulda dropped her!

JUNO: Trust me – after everything that cat’s put me through today, it deserves worse.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: There. That’s King’s apartment.

SOUND: POUNDING ON DOOR.

Ms. King! Open this door!

KING: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Just a moment!

JUNO: We don’t have a moment! Now! Open up!

KING: (THROUGH THE DOOR) I’m taking a call, you can wait one minute!

JUNO: We can’t, actually! We—

RITA: Ms. King your cat’s going to explode!!!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

KING: I’m afraid you’re going to have to say that one more time.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It all could’ve gone pretty smoothly after that, I like to think… if King hadn’t brought her cat’s doppelganger to the door. Because as soon as King opened that door and Pippa saw herself, she did exactly what I’d do if I ever met myself at the door: she went for the throat.

SOUND: CATS HISSING, YOWLING.

RITA: Ow!

KING: Pippa!

JUNO: Damn it, get ‘em off each other!

RITA: I’m tryin’, Mista Steel, I swear!

JUNO (NARRATOR): It took a few layers of skin and a minute we didn’t have to get the two Pippas apart. And once we did, we had a bigger problem on our hands.

RITA: Uh… Mista Steel? Which cat’s got the bomb in her?

JUNO: I—

I really hope Ms. King can answer that question.

KING: What are you going to do, Detective Steel? I can’t let it hurt my Pippa!

JUNO: Well, there goes that plan.

RITA: If that Piranha lady was right, boss, we only got three minutes left!

JUNO: Get rid of ‘em both, then!

KING: You can’t! I won’t let you!

JUNO: Which one’s which, then?

KING: How should I know that, with them misbehaving like this?

JUNO: Alright, alright! I’ll just figure out a way to tell the difference between two identical cats I just met today in three minutes!

RITA: Actually it’s a hundred fifty seconds, Mista—

JUNO: Thank you, Rita!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I wracked every brain cell I had, and when they didn’t cut it I brought some out of retirement. I had no excuse this time: one eye or two or three, a P.I.’s nothing without his brain.

KING: Is… is something wrong with him?

RITA: I think he’s thinkin’.

KING: Does his face always get this red when he thinks?

RITA: He’ll be fine, once he cools off a little.

JUNO: Cool off…

The fridge—! Tuna Brick!!

RITA: Mista Steel, I know we’re all hungry, but this ain’t the time for a snack!

JUNO: Ms. King, I need you to open the fridge and leave it open.

KING: But the power bill—

JUNO: Now!

KING: Oh, alright!

RITA: Boss I know you’re a stickler for tradition but if I’m gonna have a last meal I really don’t want it to be Tuna Brick—

SOUND: FRIDGE DOOR OPENS.

JUNO: The brick isn’t for us, Rita. Let me tell you something about Pippa here: her double might like Tuna Brick…

KING: It’s open, Detective Steel!

JUNO: …but Pippa loves Tuna Brick.

SOUND: MEOW, HISS.

RITA: Ow ow ow ow! Oww!

SOUND: GLASS CLINKING.

JUNO: That’s her! Grab her, Ms. King!

KING: Oof! Oh, my Pippa, my sweet, sweet kitten! Come here, come here!

RITA: Then that means… Mista Steel, you’re holdin’ the cat-bomb!

SOUND: TICKING.

JUNO: And don’t I know it.

SOUND: MEOW.

How much time do I have?

RITA: You got… thirty seconds, boss! What are we gonna do, what are we gonna do?!

JUNO: Only smart thing there is to do with a bomb, Rita: get it the hell away from you. Open the door to the balcony, quick!

RITA: You got it!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I ran for King’s balcony and the cat stared at me with its big, green, highly-explosive eyes. There was an abandoned alley just within sight.

RITA: Mista Steel, you better not be doin’ what I think you’re doin’!

SOUND: TICKING SPEEDS UP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was.

I threw the cat.

SOUND: YOWL, EXPLOSION.

RITA: Awwwww.

That was… kinda beautiful, boss.

(SNIFFLES) It’s just so sad. What’d that cat ever do to anyone?

JUNO: At least she died as she lived.

RITA: Beautiful, distant, and misunderstood?

JUNO: I was thinking more, ‘confused and in excruciating pain,’ but yours’ll sound better in the eulogy.

(SIGHS) You mind staying here and hashing out the payment details with Ms. King? I’m feeling a little under the weather, all of a sudden.

RITA: Hey, what’s the matter, boss?

JUNO: Nothing you can fix.

RITA: But… we won! It was just the case you were waitin’ for, excitin’ and life-threatenin’, and it even ended with some real nice fireworks! It’s everything you coulda asked for, and Ms. King is safe now, ain’t she?

JUNO: I’ll see you tomorrow, Rita.

RITA: Well… alright, Mista Steel. You’ll feel better after you sleep a little. You gotta. I know you will.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Feel better… (SNORTS) People have been telling me I’ll feel better for years. Exercise, you’ll feel better; get some sleep, you’ll feel better; go out and meet someone, you’ll feel better. And, look, I’ve thought about it a lot, and here’s the thing: I’m not sure I care about feeling better.

I care about doing my job. Fixing the little part of this city I can get my hands on. And in the Maia King case, I failed.

King survived, sure. And with the evidence I pulled from Bosco, Babbling Brook Realty’s going down; but the Piranha… she’s still out there. And Maia King isn’t safe. I failed.

So no, Rita. A nap isn’t gonna fix that.

I headed back to the office and let myself feel sorry for about half a bottle. I knew what I needed. And I also knew it was gonna cost me one of two things: either more creds than I’d ever seen in one place before… (SIGHS) …or a favor.

But from who? The Prince of Mars? Saffron Pharma had been in the toilet since Anthony DiMaggio got flushed. Valles Vicky? That was a one-way road to a ten-year contract cleaning her dirt. Cecil Kanagawa? No thanks; I was already down one eye, and losing an arm, leg, and brain lobe to match didn’t sound so appealing.

I picked up my comms. I didn’t know who I was gonna call, but I had to call someone, I thought.

Turns out I thought wrong, though…

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

…because just then, someone called me.

MUSIC: ENDS.

COMPUTER VOICE: Detective. Juno. Steel. Please have a pen. Ready. This message will not. Repeat.

JUNO: Who is this?

COMPUTER VOICE: Message start.

JUNO: Damn it, damn…!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

COMPUTER VOICE: I have. What you need. To do good. In this city. If you wish to do. Business. Come to the bench beside. The fountain. In Halcyon Park. At five AM.

SOUND: PEN SCRIBBLING.

JUNO: H-halcyon Park…?

COMPUTER VOICE: We can do. Some real Good together. Detective.

JUNO: Who are you?

COMPUTER VOICE: End of message.

JUNO: Answer me!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

(QUIETLY) Damn it.

JUNO (NARRATOR): By that point 5 AM was only a few hours off, so I started walking.

It had been years since I’d thought of Halcyon Park, and I didn’t like the reminder. Halcyon was one of the nicest neighborhoods in Hyperion, and for the first four years of my life… it was my home. Just me… and Ben, and… good old Ma.

Then she got bad.

Then Oldtown happened. Or maybe it was the other way around – it was too long ago to remember. Some memories just get clearer the further they get, though. And as soon as I heard the first bird chirping in the park’s palms it all came rushing back.

SOUND: BIRDS CHIRPING.

The blue-green grass. The smooth bark of the trees and the stones shimmering like beetles in the dirt. I didn’t even have to think about it; I just started walking and… and my feet and my memories brought me right where I had to go.

The fountain. Snaked with vines, and a jet of soft water springing from its center. It felt like home, and I didn’t like it. Whoever called me here, they wanted me to feel that way. They’d looked into me.

I took a seat on the bench. I didn’t feel good, but that didn’t matter. Feeling good isn’t the point. Doing good… that’s what I’m for. That’s all that matters.

VAGUELY FAMILIAR VOICE: Well! Four forty-five. You’re early.

JUNO: Thought I’d scope out the place ahead of time. Thirty-four years ahead of time, if my subtraction’s right.

VOICE: (CHUCKLES) They warned me you’d be funny. (GRUNTS) Just… be sure not to let that humor outstay its welcome, will you?

JUNO (NARRATOR): The guy had a hat down low over his eyes and most of his face was tucked into a big, wooly scarf.

He was rich, I could tell that much. If my clothes looked out of place in Halcyon in one direction, his looked out of place in the other, with big golden buttons on his coat and a watch poking out one sleeve that could’ve blinded you if you weren’t careful.

SOUND: TICKING.

There was something about that watch that stopped me. Something about the guy’s voice, too, it was… like this park. Familiar, but far away.

Like a ghost that hasn’t haunted you in a long, long time.

JUNO: Maybe this is a dumb question, but… do I know you?

VOICE: (CHUCKLES) You’re right, detective: that is a dumb question. Everyone in Hyperion City knows me.

In a few months, I’ll be their mayor.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Ramses O’Flaherty pulled back his hat and looked at me with two blue, blue eyes. On his streams and at his rallies, those eyes always looked like bright, clear skies, like a new day, a future worth running to. But… he was different in person. His eyes were tired, hard, gunmetal.

I liked this Ramses more, to be honest. That worried me, too.

VOICE [RAMSES O’FLAHERTY]: You look surprised.

JUNO: Got to say, Mr. O’Flaherty, you’re not exactly my typical clientele.

RAMSES: Oh, I wouldn’t say that. The Kanagawas, the DiMaggios, Valles Vicky… you might like to think of yourself as the hard-knock David, scrapping against the galaxy’s Goliaths, Detective Steel, but you’ve been on the giants’ payroll for years.

JUNO: Maybe, but some giants are taller than others.

RAMSES: And I’m certainly the tallest.

JUNO: Humble, too.

RAMSES: Humility is for the young and the unambitious. Pussy-footing around the fact that I’ll soon be the most powerful man in Hyperion City only wastes the few breaths I have left.

JUNO: But grandstanding about how wise you are is a good use of your time, then.

RAMSES: Of course. I never do anything unless I’m certain of it. We’re all just killing time until the killing-time, Juno – all that matters is how you use what you get before you run out.

So?

JUNO: Uh… so what?

RAMSES: How do you plan to use the time you have left?

JUNO: Finding an excuse to get off this bench is first on my list.

RAMSES: Deflect if you like. I already know the answer. I just thought you might want to spruce it up yourself.

JUNO: You get a real kick out of being the smartest person in the room, don’t you?

RAMSES: Yes.

(CHUCKLES) You’re worried it’s a cliché. That’s why you won’t say it.

JUNO: If I’m worried it’s because I’m watching a guy who’s got a decent shot at being our next mayor lose his mind in real time.

RAMSES: You want to help people. To make the world a better place. To right wrongs, to stop crime in its tracks, to—

JUNO: To slap whoever gave you the thesaurus you’re pulling all of these out from.

RAMSES: You’re the hero private eye at heart. And it embarrasses you.

JUNO: Look, I’m not some selfless—

RAMSES: (LAUGHS HEARTILY) No, you are definitely not ‘some selfless.’ Your delight at throwing yourself into harm’s way implies more self-loathing than self-sacrifice. Great heroes risk great things. You risk only yourself, and as far as you’re concerned, that’s very little on the line.

JUNO: The hell…?

RAMSES: No, you’re not selfless. But you do act selflessly, and I’m afraid that’s all that holds value here. It doesn’t matter why you right your wrongs any more than it matters why I want to clean this city. Soon we’ll be dead, and corpses don’t have motives. The why dies with us. But what we do… what we make… that stays. And I know you and I could make something very special, detective.

JUNO: I do.

RAMSES: You do what?

JUNO: Sorry, you got all gushy for a minute there. I thought you were trying to propose.

RAMSES: …You’re useless without your eye. Hm?

JUNO: What?

RAMSES: Are there one-eyed sharpshooters? Of course. But it takes years to learn, and people are suffering now, and right now? You’re useless. Every day that you don’t solve this problem is another day you miss the shot. You have finite breaths, detective. You have finite lives to save. Will you spend the rest of your days missing shots and wandering into parks at five in the morning to talk to strange old men?

JUNO: Hmph.

RAMSES: Not that you were doing much before. Saving Mars, case by case… but while you chase this murderer, how many others walk away free? Who’s going to stop them? The HCPD? Send a band of thieves to catch a thief and watch the wallets disappear.

Corruption, detective. This city is rotten to its core. If you want to do good, real good, you’ll have to think bigger than putting pickpockets in prison.

JUNO: Yeah? And you think you’re the first politician with some big ideas about busting crime?

RAMSES: No. But I think I’m the first politician with my big ideas about busting crime. And I know they’ll work. You’re going to help me make them work.

JUNO: Ha! Yeah, no, I don’t think so. We’re done here.

RAMSES: (CHUCKLING) No we aren’t.

JUNO: I’ve spent most of my career, hell, most of my life bringing down people like you, you know that? Big shots with big bank accounts who think a nice promise is a get-out-of-jail-free card for building a world that doesn’t work for anyone but them.

RAMSES: You’re assuming a lot about a plan you haven’t even been told, Juno.

JUNO: Tell me, then. What do I get out of this? What the hell could you possibly give me that’s worth trusting you?

RAMSES: The only thing you care about, detective. The power to do good again.

SOUND: BEEP.

JUNO: What’s that?

RAMSES: A picture of your new eye. The Theia Spectrum – the most advanced ocular cybernetic that money can buy. A built-in scope to rival our military’s greatest rifles; sensors for capturing infrared, ultraviolet, and megagreen frequencies; recording technologies, computer uplinks, direct access to the HCPD’s most classified directory of criminals and evidence…

JUNO: Access to what?

RAMSES: Shh. That one’s our little secret. (CHUCKLES) You could do a lot of good with an eye like this, detective… and an ear like mine. You and I want the same thing, after all: to clean Hyperion City of crime. With your expertise, your understanding of what it’s like out on those mean streets… we could do a lot of good together.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Ramses O’Flaherty, with the tired blue eyes, smiled at me. And it wasn’t the smile I’d seen on the streams, the flashing platinum teeth and the sky-blue eyes. It was the kind of smile some people put on because it’s all they’ve got left – the bone-tired smile of someone who’s been throwing themselves against the world for years, only for the world to throw them back twice as hard.

SOUND: TICKING.

And again I thought about his watch. That smile… he reminded me of someone. Someone familiar. Someone safe.

Didn’t make me feel any better. But feeling better isn’t the point, is it? And Ramses… Ramses seemed like the first person I’d ever met who got what the point was. I could see it in those eyes.

JUNO: Fine, Ramses. I’ll do it.

RAMSES: I know.

JUNO: Just, why…

…look, how am I supposed to know you mean all this? The promises and the cleaning and… the hell is your angle here, O’Flaherty?

RAMSES: Last I checked, Juno, you’re a private investigator. You never know your employers’ angles. That’s half the thrill, isn’t it?

If you want to know so badly, figure it out. Investigate, privately. Just let me warn you that I’ll take no responsibility for what happens to you if you try.

JUNO: Real reassuring, Ramses.

RAMSES: Reassuring you can’t be my job. I have an entire city to reassure. You’ll have to take care of yourself. (CLEARS HIS THROAT) This has been a nice chat, Juno, but the life of the successful leaves very little room for nice chats. You know that well.

JUNO: Don’t know if I’d call myself successful.

RAMSES: I would. And soon enough, when you see what kind of city we’ll build, what you’ll do with this new eye… you’re going to agree with me.

It was a pleasure meeting you, Juno Steel. You and I are going to do some real good together.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you've enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you'll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actor Noah Simes and co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOUND: LAUGHTER.

SOPHIE: …But yeah, I mean we just– we wanted to change the game. Really. We– we didnt want it to be the same sort of arc; we didnt want it to be the same sort of villain—

KEVIN: Right.

SOPHIE: —um, and we wanted a new challenge for Juno. So that was very much our starting point for this season.

KEVIN: The other thing that I’ll add off of the last season is, uh, we had this conversation for the end of the last season, but it's very, very important to us to have a show where things change. That's part of the reason that Juno loses his eye at the end of season one, because we want—

SOPHIE: —and his boyfriend!

SOUND: LAUGHTER.

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Jaimie Gunter, The Princess and The Scrivener, Hannah Tsim, and Elizabeth Miller for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Kitty-Cat Caper, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kate Jones as Rita, Kristie Norris as Maia King, Noah Simes as Dr. Monrovian, Sophie Kaner as the Piranha, Kevin Vibert as Bosco, and Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I'm afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

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