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qvrcll · 22 days

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Warnings: mentions of political marriages, strangers > friends > lovers, kissing near towards the end, mentat at mind, lover boy at heart

The ordeal is simple — at-least on paper. You and Paul are meant to be wed on the single promise of a shared goal between the two of your houses, which come down to one thing and one thing only: security. Wealth, power and standing do not surmount to what, in Leto’s words, the Emperor has planned for the futility of house Atreides. He knows, Thufir knows, everyone knows, that Arrakis wasn’t branded to be some sweetly wrapped gift that fell into his lap when the time came to reward the duke. No - matters of this sort were much too systematic, especially at a scale such as this. Something must be done, to solidify the house of Atreides upon the rain-swept expanse of Caladan. Something to bind the Atreides to their mother planet long enough, so there might not be strife or conflict that sharpens whatever blade is held against them. So, wed Paul you must.

Simple doesn’t translate so easily against the obscurity that is the real world.

In the real world, the two of you are mere strangers. The only thing that binds the two of you is the responsibility bourne from the insignias that you wear, that are soon to culminate as two adjoining houses; whilst his happen to be two thick lines of silver against his collar, yours take on a different shape, a strange alterity between curves and striking lines, and shot through with gold against the sleeve of your garments. There is it — the mere tellings of your differences, as pure as day. He wonders how the symbols will look like, meshed together and serving as one. He wonders how he will appear next to you - frail boy or able man?

Half of the time, you catch his eye simply because you are there, sitting duly next to your father and ascertaining the weight of such a marriage past paper, when all is said and done. Other times, you are a blurring fragment in the hallways, swathed in your house’s colours and too fleeting to get a hold on, sometimes even flanked by your house’s livery. Mere strangers, he reminds the indiscernible feeling in his chest.

“Where is your head at? Focus!” Gurney growls out, more harsh tempered than his usual mood, as he crouches and takes Paul’s fair strike for what it was - a clean swipe that was meant for his chest, which now deflects smoothly off of the older, more haggard man’s shield, and sets the room abuzz with vibrations. And so the smell of ozone worsens, Paul calculates in his head, as he shakes his head thoroughly and shifts his grip on his weapon. Gurney isn’t impressed — not in the way he usually is. Paul knows he must answer.

“This is me focusing,” Paul offers, and doesn’t grit his teeth or possess a sudden candour with his strikes because he respects Gurney. But he cannot help the mood that has blanched him - voids, how he wishes he could confess those words, verbatim, to the older man who currently encircles his passes like a seasoned ring-fighter. But the word ‘mood’ had gotten him in line last week, when Gurney had simply upped his antics with the mere mention of it, “I’m just out of breath.”

“No, you’re not.” Gurney smiles, clenching his palm around the ragged hilt of the Kindjal. He knows, Paul thinks bitterly.

“No, I’m not.” Paul confesses. He tests a low swoop of his dagger - ill-advised - and reigns his laugh in when it catches Gurney off his feet, his back staggering against the training table.

Let’s see how you like this, lad, Gurney formalises in his mind, as he presses his defence like a bull and keeps his attacks slow and pulsing through the air, blinding all of Paul’s spots, “Is it the marriage?”

Cornered for tactics, and focusing mostly on not getting cleaved to pieces during training, Paul scoffs, “Of course it’s the marriage.”

“You’re scared.”

At this, Paul counters metal with metal, bounding back when it rings against his ears, rings against the room, “I’m not scared. I’m prepared to fulfil my duty, even if I am given options,” a dull parry, which still creates momentum, and thus space, between the two men, “I’m only uneasy because I’ve never actually met her.”

“You have. Several times. Or have you been asleep throughout your father’s meetings?”

Paul stresses a firm strike against Gurney, which repels off of his own shield by how close the dagger strikes the space between them. But he’s good at catching himself. Gurney, unused to Paul’s strange and newly learnt manoeuvres, falls short. He tries to counter, but cannot, but he is most impressed for it.

“Concede.” Paul breathes, low and attempting a threatening veil, as Gurney’s back meets the floor. The old man grunts, before nodding deftly as Paul hauls him to his feet with one palm alone. They settle in different corners of the room, silence beseeching both of them suddenly - they’re not two men for silence, but in Gurney’s head, Paul is undergoing a strange part of his life. He wonders if Paul fears it in the night.

Paul interjects Gurney’s thoughts.

“Do you - have you… met her?” his voice is meek. Uncharacteristic. Gurney smirks.

“Once or twice, in the hallways.”

“And? How is she?”

Gurney laughs. The boy is eager today.

The next time I see her, I will speak, he promises.

Better said than done. With no similar companions his age - a course of action being the very result of his heritage, his mother reminds him - he truly doesn’t know how to properly seek you out. You are more shadow than friend, more idea than person, and the more he sees you, the more he forgets.

“Something on your mind?” Duncan nudges him with the edge of some Fremen equipment, that bothers him well enough to dredge out Paul’s concerns. Not that he needs to. It is written on his face.

“Yes,” Paul confesses, readjusting for comfort, “It’s about my marriage.”

“You speak as though you will marry tomorrow. It is not set it stone. Not yet.”

Paul scoffs, “I know that. I just haven’t met her yet. And I want to.”

Duncan, in the midst of polishing some hardware and solar devices, that smell quite faintly of hot sand and the sun, pauses to glance away from Paul’s face. When his gaze returns, it is almost teasing, a smirk ripping across his face, “You’re in luck today.”

“What?” Paul swivels and —

Oh. Oh.

You’re standing there. Hands clasped behind your back, yes. Stoic, assessing expression, yes. Clothed in rich colours of your house, as you always are in his passing vision - only this time, it is a green so deep that it comes across as black. Suddenly, realising that you have been found out by not only Duncan Idaho, but by the Duke’s son himself, you uncharacteristically let slip your own embarrassment through wide eyes.

“Oh. My apologies — I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude. I was just curious by the - er - gadgets.” you fumble for words at a rate that would be comical if not for the morbid embarrassment seizing you by the seconds. You’re shaking your head politely, smile strained and legs rooted where they are and ready to melt into the various corridors - back to your own duties, you assume. Away from company. Paul, however, stands linearly and full of purpose, face constructed of hard lines that all smile at you.

“No, please. Join us,” his voice is smooth - you’ve never heard him talk, even around those board room meetings - and his hand is extended to gesture within the space, “I insist.”

Duncan raises a brow in amusement and Paul wants to tamp his feet down with a neat blow. That pulls a chortle out of the man, which only further startles you. Paul invites you cordially to take a seat, where you fit awkwardly, like you were truly imposing. However, in a manner of minutes, that is all erased when Duncan lets the two of you weigh the objects in your hand – sand compactor, weapons, stinted devices that were far too aged to be still of use but gathering attention nonetheless. When Paul passes it to you, he feels your soft fingers pass underneath his own, where a warm feeling curdles as an afterthought.

“This—is a sand compactor?” you ask warily, tilting the device as though it would spring up on you and dissolve to bits. Duncan barks out a laugh.

“For sand compacting, yes.” he humours you. You, however, are too lost on the object, still swirling it around in your palms; eyes peeled downwards.

“Yes. I see.” you reply.

The two men dissolve into a fit of laughter. You look up, eyes helplessly trailing from one to the next. The day is easy.

Paul is thankful for the event, and so are you. It doesn’t solve all his problems, and his head is always probing with inquiries and worries, but he can count on the off chance of seeing you in the hallways. He can count on the fact that you will pause, meet his eyes and smile.

You’re walking the countless hallways of the estate - Caladan had so much water to offer, but no one on your native planet ever mentioned the striking architecture, the hollowed out walls and think-pieces painted across rooms. High domed ceilings, with absolutely nothing to offer but soft light. Some rooms contained scintillating glass, chairs of different shapes and mediums, tables too big for just a few affairs. Others were bound shut, but that didn’t discourage nor intimidate you, nor your entourage.

On one such day, you’re caught in your explorations by none other than the Atreides heir.

In actuality, it is you who catches him first, stood perfectly still at the end of the corridor and holding a terse expression. When he spots you, his shoulders relax and he manages to blink once, before his mouth opens underneath the realisation that you were really here.

“Hello.” his voice is strong, and carries well.

That was awkward. This is always awkward. He curses himself.

You smile, and it swipes at the ground beneath his feet, “I didn’t expect to see you here.

“This is my residence, yes?” more jest than anything else. You snort.

“I am aware. Your residence is quite beautiful. I like to wander,” you say, finding yourself fixing a meandering pace beside him, and he smiles softly when he realises that he, too, steps beside you at a similar speed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Never.”

It is quick work after that – by pure coincidence, that you joke to Paul that is it is methodical instincts and ground-work as a mentat that he is able to summon himself almost anywhere you are present from that point onwards, you two bump into each other more and more in the corridors, and from there, it extends to the rather large library, the training space with Gurney skirting its edges, the ever-blossoming gardens even, which held more water than shrubbery in retrospect. Meetings pertaining to your marriage held an element of amusement now, as Paul actually tries to catch your eye this time, drumming his lithe and smooth fingers against the table in a way that could’ve passed off as a wandering of his mind as his father droned on about security measures and fuel caps, but you notice.

You hadn’t, not before, but you did now. To his pleasure, you even respond in a tiny flickering of fingers against the age-old meeting table, the vibrations a blur against his obvious contentment.

“You look glad.” Gurney comments and Paul realises how uninvolved his attention had been on the room before him. He quickly assesses it and whatever lays within it; table, check. Light source, check. Scratchy walls, check. Gurney’s ever-gracing height, check.

When had his habits, trained and chained to duty, begun to sweep towards you?

“Do I?” Paul asks, keeping his voice as still as he can manage. He had swiped at his face to rid the itch off his brow, but he unwittingly catches how warm he is. Not uncomfortable, no. But enough to leave a mark on his consciousness. It was like he was simply losing grip on his own composure when he thought of… something. It was still fleeting in his own mind.

He is too afraid to retrace his steps and find a familiar pair of eyes staring at him in the recesses of it.

Gurney slaps a hand on Paul’s shoulder, seemingly articulate with the latter’s feelings. Old man, Paul would curse out in jest, but he merely smiles. It is strained, and strange. Paul never puts an effort into his smiles, Gurney notes.

“Something is on your mind.” Gurney clicks his tongue.

Paul blinks, swallows, “Something is on my mind.”

“Out with it.”

Paul hesitates, which is strange, because in all his fights he is the first to stoke the flame. He isn’t vengeful – at-least, he doesn’t think he is – that’s why his strikes lack a hunger for blood and instead, settle for calculation. Briefness. No means to an end just yet. Or ever, he thinks.

But with you, it’s different. That’s what he spits out, what he lets Gurney work with. How you were a supposed intrusion into his life – something he had assumed would be awkward, like a stab wound that had scabbed over and began to weakly throb in pain, always to remind itself of its own compromise to work around demise. He thought you would be that; but upon meeting you, you were anything but that. You were curious and brilliant in your own way – similar to him, yet miles apart so that you were the form of a friend he had always wished for in his youth. You talked about your interests and spent double your time inquiring about his. When your hands brushed, his own grew clammy – that’s the strangest one of them all, Gurney – And something was blossoming – was it friendship? Was it trust? Was it fear?

What was this spattering and gooey mess slipping over the swell of his heart whenever you appeared? What was it?

He talks and talks and talks until Gurney squeezes his palm over Paul’s shoulder in a way an uncle would do to his nephew who he might want to reassure. Or a brother would to his youngest companion, as if to say: I see you. I hear what you say.

“Sounds to me like there’s an awful lot of trust between the two of you,” Gurney clicks his tongue again, only this time, Paul scoffs. Ah, there he is – there is the Paul Atreides I know, Gurney smiles, “And something else too.”

“What is it?” Paul asks. His eyes are curious, brows furrowed. Gurney holds down the laugh building in his chest, and the emboldened words in red: you’re falling in love with this friend of yours, boy, and instead, pats him on the shoulder.

“Piece of advice, if you’ll heed to anything I say,” Paul straightens with attention, “Let the truth flow. Do not stop it. Do not push it back. To live with the truth, you must learn its ways and be one with it.”

That night, Paul walks back to his room with the truth beneath his skin, and listens to his own heartbeat against his pillow. The rest of him warms with the realisation of, oh, oh, oh.

The next time you see Paul, you think you’d done something to offend him. Or bore him. Or something other.

It had become a pleasant habit; meeting him at the Caladan gardens, opting for a spot and sitting with your backs to the grass, counting the stars as you talked. Before, conversation had tipped forth whenever. Now, there was something in the air – tension. And it is him that brings it.

Paul avoids your eyes, settling instead for the vast colouring of grey across the hallway walls whenever he caught you in it. He had stopped sending you the familiar drumming of his fingertips across the meeting table, and instead always froze up when you met his gaze, whereby he turned red with anger – or was it anger? What was it?

He’d always be staring at your face, and you would wonder if there was a piece of parchment stuck to it, or if he was merely bored around you; most days, you allowed it. It stung, yes, but you had nothing ill to hold against him. But it accumulated, unbeknownst to you, and for him to miss your question yet again made you sigh in defeat – disappointment?

“You seem distracted,” you say, not bothering to shield the hurt in your words, though you couldn’t begin to understand why and when you had ever begun to crave expect the attention of his earthen-dusted eyes, “Am I boring you?”

He straightens up, his eyes wide, which in turn surprises you, “Bored? Seven hells, no. ‘Course not.”

“What did I just ask then?”

He cringes, “I promise I’m not bored. Just…”

His fingers flex in his lap, before curling into themselves, and his cheeks warm slightly. Is it happening now? Is he doing it now? The weather was right; a typical Caladan breeze, heavy with the wetting of the sky from the day, and now shrouded with clouds and a darkness that was impenetrable. Even as the two of you laid against the bare grass, no one outside could tell either of you apart from the ground itself. In the moonlight, you were almost one with it.

“Just?” you ask. You were curious of this now, “Just what?”

“Just!” he sucks in a harsh breath, his sharp face now boyishly soft and pliant in a way you hadn’t seen it before, “I… Just promise you won’t take offence to this.”

How ironic.

“I promise, Paul,” you smile, shoulder bumping against his as you glance at the side of his face, the way his nose shapes perfectly against the dampness of the Calandan wind, “Tell me.”

Be one with it. Be one with it. It is a mantra in his head.

“I realise that I have begun to grow a certain, uh, affection for you. Yes, I like you. I don’t know how it had begun. And I know it’s foolish of me to even act this way when we are set to marry. But I know, in my heart, that—“ a breath, as he nervously glances at your now surprised face and oh, he shuts his mouth. He opens it again, panicked, “My apologies. I shouldn’t have—let me—”

“Paul.” you stop him, hands against his one arm that seems to be quivering ever so slightly – how much of it can he hold?

He waits. Bated breath.

You smile, shy and sweet and it whips against him in a way that the wind of his mother planet had never managed to. Here is my dear friend, he thinks, my dear friend who was but a stranger a long time ago and is set to marry me once talks have been concluded. Here is my friend who I have poured my stupid, ill heart to and who still looks at me with kindness.

“I like you too.”

He blinks. He looks at you when you speak and watches, really watches, how your mouth forms against the words. I like you too.

“As a companion? Or friend, at best? Is that what your ‘like’ refers to?” he asks, nervous in the face of your admission. It makes you smile, as he rambles slightly, and though his countenance is that of poise and grace, beneath he is a a boy of tender heart. Smiling, you grab the front of his thick coat lapel and watch his words die on his tongue as you place a feathery, warm and soft kiss against his mouth. It was so unbelievable, he thought he’d conjured it all up – that you weren’t here, timidly kissing him with a sheepish smile on your face, and the stars of his home glinting against your skin. He lets his finger brush your cheek, still dumb-struck.

“Again.” he whispers. His heart hammers at the sound of your breathy laugh, as you repeat the action, conviction in your palms as they lay upon his cheek, “Again, please.”

“Again?” you ask, voice soft and muted as he hoists you atop of his front, chest to chest, and gazing at him like he was everything. Within the action, your golden insignia brushes his own, silver ones so briefly that he can make out a shape bourne from the contact of either two, before they separate. You wanted him, as he wanted you. And soon, you would wed, and the image of gold upon silver won’t be so unclear anymore. Maybe, somewhere warmer and less unbelievable, he could let himself grow familiar with the reality of you. But for now, he could settle for this to be a mere dream he had grown to relish so very much. Even now, he could almost believe none of this to be real, just a trick of the mind. Maybe fatigue or delusion.

He says your name so quietly, a plea, and it has never sounded sweeter, “Please.”

And yet, the soft press of your mouth upon his convinces him that it is so much more.

i wanted to incorporate some inferences of paul’s character from the early novel (mentat, solitude in terms of companions, great fighter), as well as the film, whilst wanting to stray away from the destruction of house atreides after the gifting of arrakis, which would explain why the marriage needs to take place. sooo no one dies! HURRAH!!!!!!!!! enjoy :]

#paul x you #dune paul x you #paul atreides fic #paul atreides x you #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x y/n #dune x you #dune x reader #dune part two x reader

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fantasyinvader · 1 year

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Finished rereading Dune yesterday and Paul is a lot darker than I remember. Yeah, I know the guy started a Freman Jihad in his pursuit of revenge which would lead to billions of people dying, but even disregarding that there was something else to Paul I didn't realize back when I originally read the novel. While we can see the Atreides trademark bravura, he also seemed to embody some of Grandpa Harkonen's methods as well. Grandpa Vlad used people by figuring out what makes them tick and exploiting that, be it their love for another or a drug addiction. That was how he could control those around him. The novel also states that Paul is more like his (paternal) grandfather than his father, but also does things no Atreides would do, so I feel in hindsight this was the intent. Paul is somewhere between his more heroic and his more villainous lineage, using the Fremen's beliefs and playing into their future Messiah in order to strike back at those who wronged his family like how the Harkonen's plot was to avenge their honor due to some ancient battle.

Not only that, but Leto's bravura is also called into question as it was because he was so popular that the Emperor viewed him as a threat. Definitely reminded me of Asimov's Foundation there, where a strong Emperor will squash a strong general because they would view them as a threat to their own throne. A throne, in Dune's case, that is likely a reference to the Elric Saga's Ruby Throne of Melnibone (carved from a single giant ruby, while in Dune it's some kind of quartz). Back on topic though, Leto may have been popular...but he also used propaganda, spies, subterfuge and the like in order to maintain his own power while not marrying Jessica because being a bachelor offered him more potential profits. Was he really that heroic?

It was subtle, but then we come to Dune Messiah and it opens up with a historian being interrogated by one of Paul's followers, laying out exactly what Paul did in the first novel in not so positive terms. He turned the Fremen's faith into a faith worshiping him, took over the Universe by forcefully marrying the Emperor's daughter who won't be anything more than a means to an end for him, his Jihad has claimed billions of lives while he has complete control over a resource necessary to the continuation of the human race under the threat of destroying the Spice forever... when you lay it out like that, Paul stops sounding like the hero and that's kinda the point. Paul was meant to be the hero, and to be a warning against heroes/charismatic readers. We saw these things in the first book and cheered him on when in another work he could easily have been a bad guy.

Really solidified why I love Paul as a character, and is making me consider rewatching the 84 film again.

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the-other-art-blog · 2 years

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Dune 2021 it’s ... ok, but it should have been a series

I have listened to the audiobook so I might talk about spoilers or possible spoilers for the book and part 2.

Technically, it’s a masterpiece. The set design, the costume design, the cinematography is breathtaking.

Lady Jessica shines in those dresses, ugh the yellowish-orange one she uses when they arrive at Arrakis 😍. She looks so regal even when she’s not a noble-born nor a wife. You know when she steps into a room. Which is also part of Rebecca Ferguson’s acting. All the female costumes are extraordinary. The Bene Gesserit looked so intimidating! The men were ok too 😅, didn’t bother me, didn’t strike me. Like most male fashion, it’s alright.

I have my issues with the casting of Chalamet but it’s not about his acting. I’ll write about that in another post. But, he does an excellent job. He carries this regal air, proper of a duke’s son very well. And, although it’s clear he’s in his 20s, he has this innocence still with him. I love how he runs to greet his friends, breaking protocol 😆. I imagine the Gom Jabbar scene to be one of the most difficult scenes for him, cause how do you imagine that?

The soundtrack is superb! Even the seats vibrate because it was so loud. My only problem is that they chose high parts of the music at the same time people are talking. And then, people whisper a lot in this film. Like why?

I loved the attack scene. That was amazing and I saw it in a regular screen. In IMAX it must have been even more impressive. The shield visuals are really cool too. Much better that the 1985′s ones 😆.

The opening was great. I loved to see the Fremen POV, even though I missed Irulan. But I’m hoping (praying) that the sequels a lot of the Imperial family.

Now, the story is where it is flawed IMO. The trailers were misleading cause they didn’t say it was gonna be an incomplete story. No adaptation will ever live up to the original book, nor is it possible to put everything in a movie, even 2. However, I think Denis Villeneuve sacrificed too many important things. Many criticism against the movie is saying it’s too much exposition, world-building...I think we needed more of that exposition and world-building. And that’s why I keep saying this should have been a TV series. It could have been the next Game of Thrones!!!

There are so many important things that the movie takes for granted or just doesn’t even try to explain. For example, why the Duke didn’t marry Lady Jessica? First the Reverend Mother calls her “his wife” and then Leto is telling her “I should have married you.” Maybe they will address it in the next movie but I still would have liked a conversation about that here. Moreover, a big part of the set up is that they tried to make the Duke think Lady Jessica was conspiring against him. Here, they don’t do that and he is somewhat weary of her. Maybe I don’t remember that part.

When the Reverend Mother reminds her she was only suppose to bear daughters, it seemed she only wanted Paul to be the One. It might be implicit that she did it out of love. But in the book, the fact that she disobeyed because she loved the Duke makes her a heretic which is another important theme in the sequels (Irulan!). That better be in part 2. Because here it seems she did it for her own ambitions and much in accordance to the Bene Gesserit plan.

They also could have talked more about the rivalry between the Harkonnens and the Atreides. And how Jessica’s selfish decision fucked up any chance of peace through marriage. Also, what about Lady Jessica’s parentage? That’s a big deal! But again, maybe they will discuss that in part 2.

Speaking of Lady Jessica, why is she breaking apart all the time? I don’t really get why she was crying after Paul told her she was pregnant. Between her crying, the music and her whispering, it’s hard to understand the litany. I did like though that as she recite it, she became calmer. As far as I remember the only time where she cries is when they realize Leto is gone and she lets out a tear. Then she quickly stops cause it’s a waste of water. But here both Paul and Jessica are letting the tears fall. At least they did have the tent absorbing all of that so I guess it’s alright.

The movie also is not emphatic enough about the lack of water in Arrakis. I like the bit about the palm trees, but I don’t think it was enough. Everything about the Fremen revolves around water. I did like that they mentioned that the whole messiah is a fraud. “They see what they’re told to see.” That was a great line.

Also, it really bothers me when adaptations include elements just to have them there. Just to show they read the book, but stripping those things from its context and meaning. I’m gonna sound like such a book purist, but whatever. Like the late Duke’s portrait. In the book there’s a dialogue between Jessica and Leto where he knows she hated his father and doesn’t even want to put his painting on the dining room. And it’s even used to talk about her status as concubine in contrast to a wife. But here, the portrait is where Jessica and Paul are having breakfast. Which leads me to the biggest problem I have with this movie.

I hate that the victimized the Atreides! Of course, anyone against the Harkonnen would seem ok. But the reality is that the Atreides are like any other royal family with good propaganda. In Jessica’s words, the Duke is

cold, callous, demanding, selfish—as harsh and cruel as a winter wind. That’s the man shaped by the father.

In the movie that are loved because they’re the good ones? This makes me very doubtful of the sequel, cause Paul is not gonna be the hero. I wonder how DV will touch upon the billions of casualties in his holy war. What about the way Paul treats Princess Irulan?

Lastly, Chani. She is supposed to be a sweet woman. At least that’s what I remember. But here, Zendaya portrays her as a know-it-all, mean person. Why can’t Chani be strong and kind? Why does a woman need to act like a man, a very annoying one, to be seen as strong? Even with Irulan, there’s a bit in Dune Messiah were she kind of defends her (obviously before knowing she is poisoning her). When Paul insults Irulan’s writings, she defends them.

If I were the Academy, I would wait for part 2 to see if DV really told the story complete. Meanwhile they can praise the technical points.

#dune #dune 2021 #lady jessica #duke leto #paul atreides #timothee chamalet #rebecca ferguson #zendaya

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keepitmovinshawty · 3 years

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Ok watching the Snyder Cut again but this time with notes!

Kids today will never know the struggle of buying a movie only to realize that it’s the full screen version instead of the widescreen version.

The opening sequence actually made me tear up a little.

Superman’s cry of anguish is more powerful than Zeus.

Amber Heard. Gross.

I like how the Atlanteans and Amazons have their Mother Boxes in secure locations but “man” has theirs tossed in the back of a closet. Sounds about right.

Because of course Bruce Wayne knows Icelandic too.

So Arthur takes off his shirt to swim but leaves his jeans on. God the chafing...

Alfred dragging Bruce is always hilarious.

Ok this bank scene with Diana was in the 2017 version but it’s a lot more violent in this one. And I guess the desaturation of the scene also makes it seem less like a cartoon. There’s actual tension in this. Editing matters.

“Boring.” Diana said cut to the damn chase. She doesn’t have all day.

Diana really makes use of her greaves.

Not Diana vaporizing this dude.

I want a whole movie of just the Amazons.

I actually like how they did the live action Boom Tube.

The Amazons are beasts with their lassos.

I love Hippolyta.

Part 2! I like how this was split into parts.

No one ever says Superman’s name. It’s always “him.”

Diana always wears white.

This whole scene where Diana goes to Athens is left out.

I think this conversation between Arthur and Vulko is too.

I forgot this movie is canonically before Aquaman.

Steppenwolf is an actual character in this one.

Isn’t this the second time Diana has broken into Bruce’s place?

Ooooh a Green Lantern!

Professor Lupin defeating Darkseid is a highlight.

Forever giggling at how the Amazons and Atlanteans do the most to hide the boxes while Man just buries it in the forest.

I want to meet someone who makes me stop and stare like Barry and Iris did.

There’s always a fruit stand.

Barry giving new meaning to running out of your shoes.

Cyborg’s origin story is easily one of the saddest.

Also, 2017 cut his mother entirely out. I mean, Whedon damn near wrote him out the movie.

I wonder if the Sarah they were talking about is Sarah Charles...

Victor helping the single mother was 🥲

Dr. Manhattan is Barry’s father.

Competitive ice dancing. Very competitive ice dancing.

Batman with a lasso...

Victor is still in his bitter stage.

J. Jonah Jameson and Commissioner Gordon are the same person.

Amber Heard again. Gross.

So the Atlanteans here can’t speak underwater. They only make these trill noises. But they do speak in air pockets.

How unfortunate that Arthur saves Mera just in time.

Steppenwolf wants all the smoke with Diana for some reason.

I love Wonder Woman’s theme.

Aquaman casually late but he holds the water back so it’s all good.

The Anti-Life Equation. That thing that makes earth so special.

Darkseid enters the chat.

Steppenwolf without his armor... Yeesh...

How did Darkseid forget which planet kicked his ass 5000 years ago?

Not Arthur looking incredulous about Victor being able to speak to intelligence. Dude, you talk to fish.

Why do the Nazis find everything?

The little explanation about the Mother Boxes was cool. Also a scene that was cut.

Swanwick being Martian Manhunter this whole time is wild. Also cut from the theatrical version.

You know in other versions of his “death,” Superman isn’t actually dead. His body is just comatose as he heals. But he appears dead to humans because his heart rate slows down so much.

Lol the ship AI is like “this is a monumentally bad idea I strongly advise against it please don’t do this” 🤣🤣🤣

Ironically, Superman returning is the worst part of the movie to me. Not the fact that he’s back just how it’s done. The whole fight sequence to me is ridiculous and a waste of time. Like why has he even forgotten who he is in the first place?

Well in this version there’s no awful “do you bleed” and Lois gets herself to the scene.

Bruh... Victor done watched both parents die now.

Henry Cavill is really pretty. Dude has that old Hollywood gorgeousness.

It’s come to my attention that Bruce and Clark’s mothers have the same name.

Time to go fuck Steppenwolf up!

Black suit Supes flying up into the atmosphere to get some of that sweet, sweet solar radiation.

They finally got that thing to fly only to fuck it up as soon as they get there 😅

Steppenwolf is antagonizing Diana and idk why. What did she do to you, bruh?

Wonder Woman 🤝 Aquaman 🤝 Superman

So this whole part with them essentially losing and Barry having to run back time didn’t happen in 2017 at all. Instead they just had him... save a random family?

Seriously... Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Supes treated Steppenwolf.

Y’all outchea feeling bad for Steppenwolf but let’s not forget his debt was 150K worlds. DeSaad said he still had 50K left. That means he destroyed 100K worlds already. Fuck him.

Man why they tease Granny Goodness then didn’t have her speak? And if she doesn’t sound like Ed Asner is it even worth it?

Ryan Choi! Aka Atom!

Silas’ voiceover during the ending was so touching 🥲

Words cannot express how much I hate Jesse Eisenberg as Lex Luthor. I actually like Lex as a character but I hate him in the DCEU because just ugh. Worst casting ever.

Oh look it’s Slade. Or Deathstroke. Whichever name strikes your fancy.

Just throwing Batman’s real name out there.

Amber Heard again. 😒😒😒😒😒

I actually like Jared Leto here. Tho that laugh needs work.

I know it’s the Knightmare timeline but I still have a hard time believing Clark becomes Darkseid’s lackey because Lois dies. I get the pain and anguish but dude... Lois wouldn’t want that.

This epilogue felt like the ending, a mid-credits scene, and a post-credits scene put together.

Welp that was great! And I’ll probably watch it a 3rd time this weekend with my siblings.

#zack snyder’s justice league #snyder cut #dceu #justice league

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parasite-core · 3 years

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so! you wanted to talk about your ocs, yeah? hm, idk about them so can you give a little introduction about who they are and their likes or something like that? or at least about some of them? thanks! 🥰💞

Thank you! Sorry for the delay I wrote way too much then wrote less but still too much then I took medicine that knocked me out lol.

So I’m going to talk about Draven because he’s who I’m fixated on, but if you want me to jump to another OC just say the word and I’ll talk about someone else instead.

So my first attempt at answering got out of hand and was not a “little introduction” so I’ll tag you in a separate post with all that if you feel inclined to read it after seeing the ‘short’ answer lmao. Even this answer got long so you can imagine the other went very detailed.

Let’s start with the part that’s short, his likes and dislikes.

Likes: Cats, he grew up with a big blonde cat named Captain who only liked him and he’s loved cats ever since.

Leto, his surrogate brother.

His friends…begrudgingly sometimes.

Music, he’s a big music lover, especially violin music but really anything he can tell had real passion put behind it.

Makeup and generally making himself look beautiful: it offsets the scars a bit and people—including his enemies—already call him uncomfortably pretty so why not lean into it. Plus it makes him feel good when people call him pretty/beautiful. (He might be slowly having some gender self-revelations but Draven isn’t very insightful so it’s taking him a while)

Dislikes: Demons, demons, demons. Glabrezus (treachery demons), Succubi (you know), you get the point. He really hates demons. He doesn’t mind tieflings/ abyssal sorcerers/ other people who just happen to have demonic blood in them, so long as they don’t let it define them. Which is good for him since he recently discovered *he* has demonic blood in his bloodline so he’d have had a way worse breakdown if he’d been upset about the blood in general not just which specific demon it belonged it (Jerribeth, a Glabrezu, and likely the cause of his entire family’s deaths…so yeah, baggage)

Other things he hates…people telling him how he should feel about something. He’ll feel how he should feel in his own time and not a moment sooner.

Having people’s lives in his hands. He’s a commander of an army he has no choice in the matter but he hates it so much he wishes he could just be a front line grunt fighting demons and risking his own life not giving the order that might kill dozens or more of others if things go wrong or he miscalculated. He carries the weight of every person who has died under his command and take it very personally.

People insulting tieflings for their existence.

About: this still got long but less long than the first time.

Draven Imani is a warpriest of the goddess of righteous valor, justice, and honor, Iomedae. After his family was killed by demons when he was 8 and he was the sole survivor, he was saved by Iomedaen crusaders. After he was healed, except for a Mark of Deskari on his wrist that festers and remains open no matter what healing is applied, they had him bandage up and keep it secret, although vicious rumors already began spreading. He was taken in by an Iomedaen orphanage called the Light-Oath Orphanage. This is where he gained his faith, and his desire to follow in the footsteps of the crusaders who saved his life. This is also where he met his best friend and surrogate brother, the tiefling Leto, who he’s been inseparable from for 13 years.

The two of them made a group of 6 who all wanted to join the crusades for various reasons, and they set out for the Crusader hub city of Kenabres. Unfortunately when they were an hour out of the city, a demon slipped through the wardstone barrier. Draven sensed it first, the evil mark on his wrist burning and bleeding in response. It was too late to flee or warn the others, and one by one they fell. Draven lost his eye while trying to protect Leto, and doesn’t remember the rest of the fight from the shock and trauma. Next thing he remembers is waking up in a healer’s bed in a temple of Iomedae in Kenabres, Leto waiting for him, his other friends dead, and unable to see out of half his vision.

The for next year he retrained himself how to fight with his sword and shield with only one eye, relearning to judge distances and to mostly figure out his spacial awareness. However because everyone saw him as irreversibly damaged, he got relegated to the lowest, least prestigious, most mocked rank of the crusades: the Raven Corps. And there he rotted in guard duty and being degraded by both townsfolk and other crusaders, all of whom see the Raven Corps as the lowest of the low.

Then the Wardstone protecting the city was destroyed, the Stormking, one of Deskari’s generals, lead an attack on the city and began slaughtering everyone, and the party was swept underground by the silver dragon Paladin of Iomedae, Terendalev, who told them they had a destiny to fulfil.

And then Auriel Answerer, Draven’s friend and mentee from the Raven Corps died right next to him striking a fatal blow against a Baphomet cultist. And it turned out Auriel was supposed to be Iomedae’s Chosen One. So because Auriel vouched for Draven, now Draven is the one allowed to wield the Holy Sword Radiance—although Radiance themself seems begrudging of this.

Draven met his hero, Commander Irabeth Tirabade, a half-orc Paladin and former Raven Corps member who once saved the city and was promoted to commander of the prestigious Eagle Watch Legion in recognition. Irabeth immediately gave Draven a field promotion to acting captain of the Raven Corps for recent events. No pressure or anything.

We destroyed the final wardstone shard that Deskari cultists were trying to corrupt into a weapon, via our archer Hiskaria avoiding a boss battle while the party fought her and kept her distracted by being bigger threats until it was too late. Then Hisy jabbed the stone with the rod of cancellation and it broke and destroyed her and two of her minions. And a single shard hit each of us after we had a vision of what had meant to happen—of the doomed world we weren’t meant to save—and how our actions had literally broken fate. Afterwards in reality the Wardstone shards sank into us and bequeathed new powers to each of us.

The night after becoming Mythic Draven met Iomedae in our dreams and received a number of really helpful boons from her. So Draven was in awe there. And learned from meeting the warrior goddess that maybe he should be less self deprecating about his own facial scars.

Since then he met the Queen of Mendev, got promoted to Commander of his own legion (The Adamant Shield Legion) with Irabeth friggin Tirabade as his mentor and advisor, they liberated an impenetrable citadel in two days, found out Leto was now working with the cult of Baphomet for unknown reasons, but he promised Draven that he wouldn’t let them hurt him. It turned out he’d been acting strangely since meeting a Glabrezu on the battlefield, and when Draven tried to ask over sending Leto only told him that “wishes come true at the most unexpected times”.

Since then. Dray’s learned that the mark on his wrist means he also made a wish to a Glabrezu, that he doesn’t remember because he was a traumatized child who was just tortured and saw his family killed when he got his mark. And not just any Glabrezu—Lady Jerribeth, the original architect of Drezen’s fall, and very likely the cause of his family’s deaths. And not only that, but Jerribeth’s blood runs through his veins, from within the last few generations of his family. So the Crusader, the demon slayer, who fights demons but embraces tieflings, is struggling to put his money where his mouth is when it’s his own blood touched by a demon’s influence. Also killing another mark bearer places a new mark of Deskari onto him, so he has a new one on his neck now from killing a raider half-fiend berserker who also shared Jerribeth’s blood and mark. He’s scared of the implications.

And that’s Draven so far.

#faunscoxyspace #Draven Imani #Leto Jules #my ocs

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weclassybouquetfun · 3 years

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I know it doesn’t really seem like awards season without the pomp and circumstance of awards shows and the press push for films in contention, but it is awards season! It is!

Reminding us that this muted awards season is still on is Variety which announced their semi-annual Actors on Actors. Which actors will be on other actors (but not in the sexy way)?

Kicking off the event is SILENCE OF THE LAMBS costars Jodie Foster and Sir Anthony Hopkins with Foster promoting THE MAURITANIAN and Hopkins promoting THE FATHER.

Ben Affleck (THE WAY BACK) and Sacha Baron Cohen (THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7)

ONE FINE DAY costars Michelle Pfeiffer (FRENCH EXIT) and George Clooney (MIDNIGHT SKY)

BAFTA EE RIsing Star winners Tom Holland (CHERRY, THE DEVIL ALL THE TIME) and Daniel Kaluuya (JUDAS AND THE BLACK MESSIAH).

Actor-singers ANDRA DAY (THE UNITED STATES VS. BILLIE HOLIDAY) and Leslie Odom Jr. (ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI).

Eddie Redmayne (TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7) and Jamie Dornan (WILD MOUNTAIN THYME).

Glenn Close (HILLBILLY ELEGY) and Pete Davidson (THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND).

John David Washington (MALCOLM & MARIE) and Jared Leto (THE LITTLE THINGS).

Zendaya (MALCOLM & MARIE) and Carey Mulligan (PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN).

Riz Ahmed (SOUND OF METAL) and Steven Yeun (MINARI).

Vanessa Kirby (PIECES OF A WOMAN) and Amanda Seyfried (MANK).

My thoughts on some of the films below.

The Father: Great film featuring very fine performances from Olivia Colman, Imogen Poots, Rufus Sewell and Sir Anthony. Very cleverly filmed by leaving audiences to try to determine what is real or what is a part of The Father (Hopkins) dementia. Heartrending film. The only strike against Hopkins is that he’s ACTING. You can see that performance from space. There is nothing subtle about his performance, as opposed to Lance Hernricksen in FALLING which deals with a similar theme.

The Way Back: I know it’s sport to knock Ben Affleck, but I think he’s a decent actor and a fantastic director. I know why WB or Affleck’s team is pushing his performance in this film as it deals with a man struggling with his sobriety. It’s a good enough film but nothing rises to exemplary. I’d rather he and “The Way Back”s director Gavin O’Connor hurry up and reteam for the sequel of THE ACCOUNATANT.

THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7: Certainly a rousing film - I definitely cheered, and there was not one false note in the performances or weak link in this large cast. The issue is expectation. It is not the best of Sorkin’s work. Everything felt mediocre down to Daniel Pemberton’s treacly score. But mediocre Sorkin is better than a lot of other work.

MIDNIGHT SKY: I’m sure the novel is much better than the film. It’s a series of sci-fi tropes rolled up into one. For an easy comparison I would say it’s very similar in tone to Alfonso Cuarón’s far superior GRAVITY starring Clooney and Sandra Bullock. It wasn’t a wasted watch, but I found it lacking.

ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI: Before seeing this I was fine with THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 cast possibly winning every Best Ensemble award, but not anymore. Superb film, amazing casting. It’s definitely in my top 5 so far. Odom Jr. was fantastic as Sam Cooke and the interplay between the characters was fantastic. Director Regina King was wise to take this play, but not film it as a play. This was my single issue with MA RAINEY’S BLACK BOTTOM. We know it’s a play, don’t film it like one (that’s another great film, mind you).

HILLBILLY ELEGY: There are just films where critics decide to dogpile on for little reason, and HILLBILLY ELEGY was the victim this time. Based on a book that deals with Conservatism and finger wagging, the film itself isn’t like that. It’s a very human look at a family dealing with addiction and poverty. It’s a kitchen sink drama with a lot of heart and humanity. Close and Adams could have played their roles as caricatures, but didn’t.

On a shallow note, Gabriel Basso got hit with the thiccness and is looking good.

Promising Young Woman: A divisive film, but I loved it. Incredibly smart, dark comedic revenge tale. Carey Mulligan showed glimpses of what she can delve into with the Paul Dano film WILDLIFE, but this film shines a light on how versatile she is.

SOUND OF METAL: Story of a drummer, Ruben, who has lost the majority of his hearing. His girlfriend/bandmate, worried about how this news could affect his sobriety, gets him into a rehab center for people who are hearing impaired. The sound mixing in the film does a lot of heavy lifting as it replicates for the audience how hearing loss sounds. Excellent film, great performances but Ahmed’s costar Paul Raci is the heart of the film as the director of the community.

Ahmed’s other film MOGUL MOWGLI garners a better performance from him as it gives him more room to be versatile.

MINARI: Another film in my top five. “Minari” follows a Korean-American family as they move from California to Arkansas to build an even better life for themselves. The Hollywood Foreign Press has rightfully been called out for deeming the film a Foreign film because the majority of it is in Korean. But what is more American than a varying of languages? Hopefully, they will let this film compete in Best Picture where it belongs.

And like with SOUND OF METAL, it’s the supporting actor who steals the show. Youn Yuh-jung is incredible

PIECES OF A WOMAN: Staggering film. It’s the spiritual cousin of “Manchester by the Sea” to me. Kirby is a powerhouse, as is Ellen Burstyn as her mother. Searing film that looks at the different facets of a woman’s life.

MANK: Truly loved “Mank” and I think Gary Oldman’s performance deserves more recognition. It has the snappiness that Aaron Sorkin’s writing in “The Trial of the Chicago 7″ lacks. Amanda Seyfried is so good in a role that could easily be one-dimensional. I don’t get why the film is being largely ignored. I thought it was very smart and engaging.

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draven-imani · 3 years

Text

Journal 5 (Part 2)

So. Yeah. Commander Irabeth Tirabade gave me a temporary field promotion. Although she said there wasn’t much of the Raven Corps left to speak of at the moment. Apparently, a certain Golden Boy had commandeered as many people as he could convince to come with him on a mad quest into the Worldwound after the attack and our group fell underground. He has an entire legion following him, which he dubbed the Silver Legion. She said it was likely he’d be back soon for a supply run.

Damn. I always knew Leto would go far. But to rally the troops on his own without any preestablished backing and just…go for it? I don’t know how he does it. We walked the same path and yet somehow he’s always been in a completely different league than me. I don’t envy him, not in the slightest. I’m in awe, more like. It’s like looking at the sun. It’s incomprehensible.

Ah. I wish he were here instead of there, though. He’d know how to handle this whole ‘Acting Captain’ thing. I feel in over my head already. I don’t want a position of power. I don’t want people’s lives in my hands. I only thought I wanted to go up the ranks when I was an idealistic kid with no idea what that meant. Now…the idea of giving the order that gets someone killed sickens me…

But if Commander Tirabade is the one who gives me that responsibility, I don’t think I’ll be able to say no.

I was starting to doubt…a lot, the last couple of days, honestly. Everything about Luna threw things into question. And then we found out Baphomet cultists infiltrated the church. And then Auriel died. And then I first talked to Radiance…and heard their threats. The threats from a holy weapon that sounded like they should have come from a demon. That stung. That shook me.

But then we met Irabeth Tirabade. And even in person she represents everything I have ever strived to be. Both in the sense of a former Raven Corps member who pulled herself out and into a position to actually be of use to the world, but also in the sense of how an Iomedae worshipper should carry themselves. She’s noble and strong and honorable, but she’s not quite so stuck in her ways as Auriel was, she seems to see things the way they are, and have been in the past, and she seems to be willing to admit when things are rotten and need to be fixed. I respect her. A lot. I…don’t want to disappoint her.

Aaaaand that means, if she gives me a responsibility, I have to rise to the task…even if I really really reeeeeeeeally don’t want to.

Commander Tirabade told me to give her a full report of everything that had happened. Which is exactly what I’d been keeping this journal for. So I gave her my report, and had the others chime in where my memory or note taking didn’t serve adequately. Then I showed her Radiance. I didn’t really think about it, because I thought since she was a paladin that Radiance wouldn’t be quite so ‘I’m going to flay you alive’. Or maybe I just wasn’t thinking, because she was Irabeth Tirabade and I’m dumb. That’s more likely. Anyways Radiance started burning her hands, so I quickly took them back.

And I may have admonished them out loud for doing that. To which Radiance basically asked ‘what part of chosen wielder don’t you understand?’ which…fair, but I guess I kind of thought Radiance was the one deciding whether or not to start hurting someone for touching it with how they’d worded it last time. I didn’t think it just happened.

The others were looking at me like I was crazy and asked if I was talking to my sword. So then I had to explain that Radiance is a magic intelligent weapon and also really picky about who wields them.

(And I got a little off track figuring out Radiance’s pronouns here. The answer boiled down to ‘I don’t conform to your mortal view of gender, call me whatever you want’, so I’m sticking with they since it’s neutral. Must be nice being a formless weapon spirit who can just give a copout answer like ‘I don’t conform to your mortal view of gender’. I’d not conform to my mortal view of gender if I could, but I have a flesh prison with all that gender-y stuff that comes with it.)

So then one of them, I forget who, commented about me being the chosen wielder of Radiance. And I think I laughed. I corrected them. No, I wasn’t the chosen wielder. The others pointed out I was wielding them, it sure looked like I was. So I explained what Radiance had already explained to me. That Auriel had been meant to wield them. That I was only holding them now because Auriel didn’t make it this far, and because Auriel’s soul vouched for me.

Commander Tirabade gave her condolences to us about Auriel, and asked that I tell her as much as I could about him later, as someone was going to give a eulogy for all who had been lost in the battle against the demons soon and she would make sure given his heroic sacrifice that he was given the send off he deserved.

Then Anevia rejoined the conversation, having been listening in on the sword talk. She called Irabeth over and asked her about the sword she had lied about selling. Anevia proved even with a sweet voice and a smile to be scarier than the much larger and more fearsome looking commander. Commander Tirabade admitted that she had sold her sword in exchange for an anniversary gift for Anevia. A potion that permanently changes one’s gender.

Aaaaand looking back I really hope the talk about pronouns was not uncomfortable, I was legitimately trying to be polite to the sword, despite Radiance never once extending the same courtesy to me.

Anyways.

By the end the Commander determined that it would be a good idea for us to continue taking out the safehouses, but she had another mission for us as well once that was done. Something big. She told us that another of Deskari’s generals was on her way here—the witch Arelu Vorlesh. We had heard rumors of this from drifters on the streets as well. The crusaders had managed to get information that Deskari’s cult had holed up in Old Kenabres, making a stronghold of a temple to the Inheritor known as the Grey Garrison. There was a piece of the wardstone left still intact, and Arelu was coming to corrupt it. If she was successful, the Commander believed Arelu was going to turn the wardstone into a weapon that would decimate the crusaders on the battlefield.

With that in mind, she had a librarian from the Blackwing come forward with a magical rod. I’m not one for the arcane, but Hiskaria sounded extremely in awe and almost equally disturbed by the implications of the rod, a ‘rod of cancellation’. The important part I gathered was that if Hiskaria used the rod on the wardstone, then it would destroy it.

Melody was hesitant, wondering if there was any way to eventually fix the wardstone and restore the barrier to save the city. Commander Tirabade said no. It had been created hundreds of years ago, when times were less turbulent, and with divine intervention. We had neither the means nor the time, and every moment we left the wardstone intact was a moment Arelu could return to attempt to corrupt it to her own purposes. Better that it was destroyed than in enemy hands.

We agreed. The Commander said that she would not order this strike until we had cleared out all of the safehouses, so that they had nowhere to fall back to, and no reinforcements to call upon, or else the strike would be a suicide mission. But once we had finished ridding the city of their other bases of operations, she would have an army march on the main forces of Deskari, drawing their attention, while our small strike force took the Grey Garrison.

With a plan in place, we decided that today we would at least take down one more safehouse before we rested. I was the only one really in need of any rest, and Commander Tirabade offered that the clerics of the crusades were at our disposal before we left so that we would not have to use our own limited supplies. Once my remaining injuries from those blasted vultures were healed, we set out.

We came upon some looters, who had overturned the caravan of a handful of survivors and were picking through it. We discussed, and decided we didn’t particularly want to kill these guys, just spook them. So Luna pulled up her hood and donned her Butcher persona, then went after the looters, threatening that she would add them to her pile of the dead if they didn’t abandon this cart to her. It worked, and they fled for their lives.

Luna removed her hood and we approached the survivors. They were frightened after that display, but glad to have their supplies back. We pointed them in the direction of Defender’s Heart and gave them the passcode, and told them to let them know we’d sent them, as we’d seen a number of refugees being housed safely there.

After that we continued on our way, until we came upon the Tower of Estrod. From the note we’d gotten off Hosilla, there was a passcode, “I’ve new material for the archives”. Since we knew this, and we knew Hosilla’s face, we formed a plan. Melody was able to use the magic of her scale of Trendalor to disguise herself as Hosilla. I was to pretend to be one of the Baphomet worshippers who was a false Iomedaen. And Luna was merely being a more exaggerated version of herself, using her infamy as the Butcher of Balestreet to her advantage. Hiskaria didn’t want to go inside and be stuck in close quarters, so she remained outdoors on lookout, listening for any sign of things going badly. After some discussion, Melody had handed off Auriel’s scale to Hiskaria, and explained how it worked to her. The scales couldn’t be used together, so Melody needed to hand it off regardless, and it seemed right that since Hiskaria was going to be helping us for the foreseeable future, she should be the one to hold it. And as an archer the levitation ability it granted would be of more use to her than to any of us.

With a plan in mind, the three of us walked into the proverbial lion’s den. Two cultists of Baphomet were lounging about on the bottom floor. Believing they recognized Melody as Hosilla, they let us in, and told us to meet with a man on the upper floor by the name of Faxon. We followed Melody’s lead, and went up the stairs. At the top of the tower, we found a tiefling with a scorpion upon his shoulder. He spoke smugly to ‘Hosilla’, and had a very…slimy feel about him. I got the impression that he and Hosilla were not on good terms, perhaps even that Stauton Vhagn pit them against each other and that’s why he was having Hosilla check up on him, just to rub salt in the wound. Unfortunately, Melody didn’t quite know how far to press, and backed down too soon, after making her ‘report’, agreeing to return downstairs with little bite back. When questioned about what I knew, I did the safe thing and pled ignorance, claiming to merely be Hosilla’s guard and not someone in a position to have information. When asked, Luna said she was just there for the kills, nothing more nothing less.

As Melody went to have us return downstairs, Faxon called Luna back to him. I had a bad feeling, but Luna shrugged it off and said to go on without her. Melody decided that maybe we could take out the cultists downstairs quietly while he had whatever discussion he wanted with her. I agreed, although we never got the chance. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of violence broke out upstairs, and the two downstairs were alerted that something was amiss. Melody and I decided it would be best for us to guard the stairs and make sure these two couldn’t sneak up on Luna from behind first before going upstairs to try to help her finish with Fenox.

I took care of one of the cultists swiftly, with Radiance spurring me on, the both of us eager to put an end to the evils of these worshippers of the Minotaur. The sounds upstairs began to die down, as Melody took a stab at the other from the stairs with Hosilla’s glaive. He tried to flee. Melody wasn’t going to allow that. She leapt from the stairs, and with far less regard for a glaive that isn’t her family’s sentimental one, she used it to pole-vault at the cultist, landing behind him and swinging around to stab at him once again. Still he was up. He almost made it to the door.

Just in time for Hiskaria to open the door and shoot an arrow in his face.

Somehow by some twisted luck he was still going, but Melody caught up with him once again, and maaaay have decided to show off a little to our new companion as she leapt in the air and skewered the man, finally dead.

All was quiet. I was about to be concerned about what might have happened to Luna, but then Hiskaria told me about the absolutely ridiculously amazing one sided one on one ‘fight’ she’d had with Fenox. As if I should have been worried about Luna. Hiskaria had heard the commotion and used the scale to levitate up so she’d she the last half of the fight. The upper floor didn’t have a roof, so she had been intending to shoot an arrow right into the other tiefling’s skull, but it ended up not being necessary.

See, there was a wall bisecting that room, with a door. He’d shut and locked the door to put it between him and Luna when things started looking bad. Luna had shown yet again just how little walls meant to the Butcher of Balestreet when she used the glaive she’d been holding holding for show as a means to pull herself up and over, then came down on Fenox with her axe. The Butcher one, Baphomet zero.

We met with her upstairs, where we found a shrine to Baphomet and a minotaur shaped object on the wall that was causing the room to be desecrated by its mere presence. There was also a treasure chest, so we decided that while the others went through the loot, I was going to take Radiance and have a bit of fun.

It took some time, that minotaur head was damned sturdy. But when it did break, Radiance’s voice echoed through the room. It wasn’t just me that heard it that time, but everyone. Their voice faded after only a moment. The others seemed a little shaken by that. I don’t really blame them. Radiance is…a lot. They’ve gone back to just being in my head now, which is probably for the best. Them quieting down entirely would probably be better, but I’m not lucky enough to have a normal holy sword that doesn’t demand the blood of demons and cultists as we fight. Ah, well. At least we agree on who our enemies are.

The chest had holy symbols and the favored weapons of multiple faiths, pointing towards the cult’s penchant for infiltration. We decided we would return them to the clerics at Defender’s Heart. Looking back I kind of wish I’d asked if they’d be okay with me keeping one. My wooden holy symbol’s seen a lot of use, and isn’t exactly the sturdiest material. Silver to match Leto’s wouldn’t have hurt. Ah, well. Hindsight and all that.

We were feeling really good after how well that went. We’d been planning on calling it a day after the tower, but since we’d used virtually none of our resources we agreed that unless we ran into particularly nasty trouble on the road we should try to clear out Topaz Solutions, report back to the Commander, and prepare to storm the Grey Garrison tomorrow.

Topaz Solutions was quite a bit farther than the tower had been from Defender’s Heart. Which meant more time for attacks from demons or other things lurking about.

First we were attack by two barbed creatures which made a terrible howling noise. Their barbs were painful when we got too close, but we cleared them out quickly enough with little trouble to speak of. No one ended up with any of the barbs stuck in them, which was a blessing. That could have proven difficult.

Then…we came to Balestreet. The demons had left the street as much a gory horror scene as one might have expected of Luna’s namesake. Here, two cultists of Baphomet tried to ambush us. Big mistake. Luna decided she was eager to make true to her nickname, and took her axe to them. They didn’t go down.

Then two arrows went straight through them, ice burst from one’s injuries, and both fell dead on the road. Hiskaria looked a bit sheepish, asking Luna if she shouldn’t have done that, since Balestreet was supposed to be Luna’s thing. Luna shrugged it off, saying it worked either way.

Remind me not to get on the bad side of the ladies in our group, they can cut quite the fearsome characters.

With that we were on our way, the rest of the walk to Topaz Solutions uneventful. The apothecary was being looted by a couple of thugs when we arrived. Luna decided to do her thing and scared them off with a few threats from the Butcher. Then we started looking around. The looters had taken anything of value, but Luna after some poking around found some ‘really nice door technology’, and opened a secret passage that led into a hidden basement. Luna and Melody snuck down first.

After a minute of waiting, Hiskaria and I heard Luna and Melody call us down, saying there was a strange mechanical doll and an image on the wall they couldn’t identify. I went down first. As Melody stepped forward to let me in, the minotaur head on the wall began to speak. It taunted us, saying it hoped we were Iomedaens so that this surprise from Baphomet wouldn’t go to waste. Then the doll began moving, and smashed a bottle, releasing a small plant creature.

There was also some kind of…gas I think? Something was in the chamber after that which was causing us various issues. Melody and I both started finding it hard to breath for instance—not so much that we were suffocating, but enough that we were wheezing and likely would have been unable to easily move stealthily.

Worse was that plant. It was in a thick patch of vines that it could move through with ease but which we struggles in. It screamed in such a way that it caused both Melody and Hiskaria to become nauseous, forcing them to flee upstairs to safety and leaving me and Luna to deal with it by ourselves. And it was small and tricky, dodging around many of our attacks in the most frustrating manner. Luna did finally squash the blasted thing, and I went over to the minotaur head and broke whatever the device was that was releasing gas into the room.

Then we searched the room and found a chest with a mocking note claiming we deserved a reward for besting the trap. Within were a number of stolen holy symbols. Luna stopped us from taking them, noting that they were covered in a contact poison.

I have decided I rather dislike this Igon Topaz, and do hope he survived the attack on the city. If only so that I may someday bring judgement upon him myself.

With all three safehouses cleared out, we’ve returned to Defender’s Heart for the night. We reported back to the Commander, and we spent some time unwinding and preparing for tomorrow. There are some merchants set up so we were able to get some supplies. And, more importantly, we got some drinks.

And even more importantly, Leto’s back.

He showed up while we were making preparations, all smiles and charm as always. He thought I’d died in a pit, I thought he’d been killed by demons, same old same old.

He looked amazing. He’s been doing well for himself. He really was the picture of a paladin in that silver armor riding up on a holy steed. Although I guess to him I must have looked maybe a little impressive with the holy sword Radiance at my side. Ah, if only he could have a conversation with them, he’d quit being impressed real quick.

Leto played up his knight in shining armor role well, flirted with Hiskaria even though she’s twice his age and a convicted murderer, and got on well with Melody. He…did not get on well with Luna. He tried, certainly, at first, but then she threw some misplaced insults about him being Raven Corps which I corrected, and then she brought up how all the reports of her being a murderer are vastly exaggerated by the Raven Corps and…it was just all around awkward, I think.

So then he introduced us to his horse, Charles, instead. He got a kick out of the fact he’d given his holy mount such a mundane name instead of something more heroic like—

Hold up. Charles.

Charlie.

Chalie Horse.

…that blasted tiefling, I’m going to wring his neck next time I see him.

I can’t decide if I’m mad about the pun, mad I didn’t catch it when we were talking about it, or mad that I didn’t think of it first.

Named his holy steed a pun, the nerve of that man...I wonder if anyone else has caught on. Commander of the Silver Legion, Leto Jules, the tiefling so charismatic he managed to sway 50,000 people to his banner…named his holy steed Charlie Horse. Inheritor help me I don’t know what to do with him.

Or how to outdo that.

Which is frustrating.

Oh well. What’re you going to do? Some days you find out your brother is not just still alive but now leading a legion on the back of a horse named Charlie and you just roll with it.

I’m glad he’s okay.

His Silver Legion is going to be joining the fight against the main forces tomorrow while our strike force goes into the Grey Garrison. So that’s more for me to worry about. But Leto’s always been a lucky bastard unlike me. He’ll be fine.

After the fact Melody, Hiskaria, and Luna decided it was really important to whisper amongst themselves and to send me away. So apparently it’s rumor time again. Yay. I’m fairly certain with them it would be nothing bad…but I can’t fathom what they could have possibly been whispering about. I suppose if they think Leto and I are related by blood it could have been about that, if they think I share his demonic bloodline…but Hiskaria is a tiefling as well, I see little reason why they would need to be secretive about it if that were the case. And quite frankly Leto and I don’t look alike. At all. Even if he weren’t golden, we don’t share even close to the same features. So I don’t think we could be mistaken for blood relatives.

I don’t know, and there’s really no use in speculating. It’s growing late, and we have a temple to siege in the morning.

#journal entry #pathfinder #pathfinder wotr #pathfinder wotr spoilers #Draven Imani

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op-peccatori · 4 years

Text

Upon This Sword | MLQC Gavin

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Knight!Gavin/Queen!Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You’ve fought to keep Gavin by your side for a long time. When the time comes to let him go, will you find it in you to let him do the right thing?

Word Count: 6621

Warnings/Tags: fantasy au, royalty au, minor language, mentions of death, congrats you are a queen!!!, extreme cheesiness because I’m a block of cheese for these guys

a/n: yes, this is the result of reading chapter 22. I strongly debated posting this on here but honestly, I had so much fun with it I’ll probably do parts for the other boys too (~˘▾˘)~ this is an unholy union of all the fantasy shows and webtoons I’ve ever consumed.

With the early morning sun just barely making its appearance, the sounds of heavy footsteps thudding against the ground of the courtyard drown out all other sounds in the castle.

“Keep your heads up, we’ve got a few more laps to go!”

You’re aware of the eyes boring into your back, knowing there are some trying their best to stay averted, ones still glinting nervously. It hasn’t been long since you started joining the soldiers in their drills instead of working privately, but it seems not all have gotten used to your presence.

You keep your gaze fixed on the one leading the group.

Amber eyes glance back at you for the briefest of moments, a sharp brow cocked your way questioningly. A guileless smile is your only response; you pretend you hadn’t just been studying the way his shoulders flex under the thin layers of his clothing. He continues to run, unfaltering, drenched with sweat; his hair, gathered up tightly, sways with hypnotically, its edges brushing the top of his spine.

You follow, not much better off yourself, with your sleeveless tunic and leather armour clinging to you like second skin but you can’t deny the spring of motivation welling up with the presence of the others around you.

By the time the sun is high in the sky and the stone keep castle is buzzing with life, you’ve switched to sparring.

The clash of steel has heads turning, and the figures clashing keep them turned. The others have paired up, walking away as fast as possible after receiving their instructions, eager to get away from the two of you circling each other like a pair of eager, sweaty hawks.

You see pursed lips twitch, so subtle if you were anybody else you would’ve missed it, and you’re just barely swift enough to dodge the jab to your side.

Gavin narrows his eyes at you.

“You really need to work on your tells,” you tell him seriously, before propelling yourself forward to strike him head-on. He blocks it with a grunt and a tiny roll of his eyes.

“Not if you’re the only one who catches them,” he mutters, shifting his weight and you slip away, your longsword sliding off his, an impish grin blooming along your mouth.

“It’s only a matter of time before others catch up. Or are you saying you just let your guard down around me?” Your smile is saccharine as you swing your weapon in a high arc; he meets you with a strained laugh, swords meeting with a loud ring.

“Around you? I’m no fool,” he says before you both stop horsing around and charge in with a flurry of attacks, striking hard and fast. You keep him in your line of sight, focused on every minute movement from him. From the slight bend in his knees to the glistening bead of sweat at the top edge of his upper lip, your senses deeply attuned to him.

29-30 is the current tally—in Gavin’s favour. It’s time to avenge your pride.

‘I’ve got this.’

“Your majesty!”

Your sword lands in the mud behind you, the tip of Gavin’s quickly pointed at your heaving chest. The both of you turn in stone-faced unison to see Minor standing behind the fence with his hands clamped over his lips.

“That doesn’t count,” you say at once and Gavin grins at you, not budging an inch.

“Shouldn't have gotten distracted. A loss is a loss. Say it.”

Looking like you’ve eaten the most disgusting fruit in Loveland and trying to school your face into something more dignified, you sigh with no small measure of frustration.

“I suppose. This victory is yours.” He backs off without another word, rolling his shoulders as he visibly basks in the glow of his unfair win.

And then you turn to glare at Minor, who winces at the ire in your face.

“I’m so sorry! It was Anna! I mean, she sent me to inform you that there’s a council meeting in an hour.”

You see Gavin pause in your peripheral vision; there are a number of reasons why the small council would need to call a meeting, but with the recent tensions with a neighbouring kingdom, Sethia, you wonder if there’s more bad news coming your way.

A grumble on your lips, you move to yank your sword out of the ground. “This is it for now.”

You watch, unamused, as Gavin inclines his head deeply. He slicks sweat-slicked bangs back, leaving you momentarily distracted by the sight of his forehead. He smiles that quiet little smile, the one that leaves you smiling back helplessly. “Your Majesty.”

“See you.”

You reach up to feel your own damp, and maybe a little muddy hair. An hour. That’s barely enough time to clean up well enough for Anna’s standards and get some food in.

“Minor, I’m going to need some help.” You could probably get some in if someone else wrestles your hair into compliance.

“On it, boss. I’ll have someone send up a plate once you’re done cleaning up.”

From your seat at the head of the table, fingers drumming on the wooden surface without missing a beat, you study each member of your council in grim silence. Not all of them are people appointed by you; some of them you wouldn’t trust with a treasured brick, even if they’ve sworn oaths to you. If it belongs to you, they’d find a way to use it. It makes you uncomfortable, but there’s not much you can do about them.

Sunlight pours in from the wide windows, bathing the room in a soft, bright glow. It would make you sleepy if not for the stress of what’s coming.

“We’ve received reports of increased activity by Sethian soldiers near the borders,” Anna informs you, jogging a stack of papers, face set evenly. She remains the picture of grace, the one guiding presence in your life after the passing of the previous ruler—your father.

You nod at Anna, leaning back in your ornate chair.

Some council members you would trust with your life—have trusted with your life. She never loses her cool, not in front of you, and it allows you to hold onto the calm a little better.

“How many?”

“Not big enough to worry, but it’s unusual.”

“Knowing their king, I’d say it’s enough to worry,” you muse, a sour taste filling your mouth at the thought of the man. There had been an incident involving envoys from the other kingdom. In a suspicious case of misidentification, the small group had been killed. The soldiers involved, your own, had sworn to all the gods above that they had believed them to be enemy spies but could not give an account of who had given them that information, or why they had charged in and killed them without reporting them first.

It left everyone perplexed, but the biggest consequence of that was the Sethian king crying for blood. The soldiers had been stripped of their ranks and handed over for interrogation, but the muddled explanations were not satisfactory for the other ruler. While your kingdom wasn’t small by any means, you still wished to avoid warring with Sethia, what with all the other threats in the lands.

“Ahem.” You look over to see Leto frowning at you. “I agree, Your Majesty. Which makes me wonder if it’s wise to have certain council members here.”

As one, all of them—except you—shoot speculative glances at the man to your right, seated opposite Anna. Gavin stares back at them unflinchingly, and you draw their attention back to you with a light cough; fighting to keep your hands relaxed, choosing instead to lean in and rest your chin against steepled fingers.

He’s much older than you. Leto has been on this council since your father’s time, and you can admit he’s good at what he does. As the Minister of Laws, and thus the head of law enforcement he’s done a fantastic job of controlling crime within your lands, especially the capital.

But there has always been something about him that makes you want to recoil and keep him away. Whether it be the barely-hidden mockery in some of the things he says, the contempt clear in his gaze, or the hunger for power barely contained by his respect for the rules. There is also, of course, the biggest source of your aggravation when it comes to the man.

“You think it’s unwise to have our Lord Commander attend a council meeting, Lord Leto?” There’s a note of warning hidden in your silken voice, but the man doesn’t flinch. “One that involves reports of enemy soldiers?”

“I merely wish to remind you of our Lord Commander’s origins. He is, after all-”

“The man who wins our battles for us and keeps us safe. That is all you should keep in mind when it comes to Lord Gavin.” Your tone had been sharper than intended. Not waiting for a reply, knowing there won’t be one worth listening to, you turn to Gavin. “What do you think?”

How he manages to remain level-headed even in the face of Leto’s ridiculous suspicion is beyond you, but it’s always been one of his more agreeable traits. “It could be a red herring, but we still need to keep an eye of them.”

“Send Eli to the borders, give him fifty men. More if you think it’s necessary. And have someone contact the Mage Tower.”

“You think the mages will get into it?” Anna asks. “They’ve always remained neutral.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way. Has their head mage been located?” Your father taught you many things when it came to relations with different factions in all the lands. One of them had been to never, ever make an enemy of the mages.

But if you do, make sure you have people of similar power on your side first.

“No. His Excellency—Lord Lucien is still missing.”

“Assign some men to help them, just make sure you pick the ones less likely to be freaked out by mages. Actually, tell Karyu he’s got the mission, but have him give you an accurate list of the men he recruits. Tell him to work with our spymaster.”

“I’ll have a word with her, we need more eyes in Sethia’s capital as well,” Gavin says, wincing at the thought of having to track down the elusive member of their council. She probably already knows what’s going on, but you should still have a word with her about showing up for these meetings.

“Tell her to come find me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

You cast an expectant gaze around the table, ignoring the pointed looks by the old crones you wish could be forced to retire.

“Are we done, then?”

“One more thing, ma’am,” Leto leans in with a tight-lipped smile, eyes drifting to the man on your right once more. The determined look in his eyes has your hackles rising at once. “I know you said not to bring it up, but I must, once again, impress upon you the importance of keeping peace with Sethia.”

“What’s on your mind, Lord Leto?” you ask, trying your level best to keep your discomfort out of your voice. He looks at the members sitting around him before meeting your eyes, straightening his posture a little more. You don’t think it’s necessary; if the man stiffens up any more he might snap something.

Oh, perhaps he should keep puffing up a little more.

“Keeping his origins in mind, I feel the need to ask if you think they could actually be of help to us.” Gavin seems to be listening intently, much to your secret dismay. “He was born in Sethia, regardless of his current position, and I wonder if, perhaps, we couldn’t arrange a diplomatic visit to arrange a treaty—one led by Lord Gavin, of course.”

‘Oh, you would just love to send him back into the jaws of the wolves, wouldn’t you?’ you think darkly.

“As you said, my lord, Lord Gavin was born there,” you respond, keeping your tone neutral. “But he has lived here longer than anywhere else; he belongs to our kingdom. To answer your question, no, I do not think it would be wise to send him to treat with them. I doubt they would respond as peacefully as we hope they might.”

Leto looks far from pleased at your answer.

“Now, if there’s nothing else, I believe lunch is ready.”

You shoot out of your seat, striding off before anybody can stop you, and the clanking of heavy armour tips you off to Gavin’s presence behind you. Closing the heavy door behind you, you grab him by the arm and pull him into an alcove near the door, behind the statue of one of your esteemed ancestors. He doesn’t even protest, long used and resigned to your antics.

With how often you’ve used it, you wonder if one of your predecessors created this space for the very same purpose.

Gavin stands close behind you, enough that you could lean against him easily if you wished to do so. You very much do, but now is the time for some basic espionage, not acting on your often overwhelming emotions.

His breath puffs warmly against the nape of your neck as he leans in, no doubt straining his ears. You remember the first time you had done this, a smile curling along your lips when you remember the aghast look on his face at your sneaky ways.

You hear the door open, Leto’s calls of ‘Your Majesty!’ following. You both stay quiet as some of the other council members approach him.

“It was a good plan, Lord Leto. But you know she would never agree to send him away.”

“Hasn’t this gone on long enough? The late king took him in out of the kindness of his heart, treating him like one of our own, but their closeness is simply unacceptable,” Leto mutters, and you can imagine the great scowl on his face with ease. “How is any future husband of hers to accept it?”

“He’s an important asset to the military. Surely, you cannot disregard his achievements,” one of his friends try to offer.

“I’m not. I agree that he’s a gifted soldier, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a foreigner. And yet, she still treats him like her beloved pet.” Their voices fade as they begin to walk down the hallway, but you stay in your little space, trying to breathe through the sudden rage that demands you find Leto and send him on a vacation to the dungeons.

“It’s not like that,” you whisper, all the doubts you had never quite buried finding their way to the surface once more. Because how you see the two of you differs greatly from how others see you: a fledgeling queen and her foreign knight.

“I know that. The people who matter know that,” he says into your hair. You exhale forcefully, nodding at his words. Sensing the calming waves of your mind, he continues.

“He’s an asshole, but his plan has some merit,” comes a murmur that threatens to send you hurtling back into a temper. You whirl around, looking at him in disbelief, advancing on him until he’s pressing back into the wall.

Much to your consternation, he remains infuriatingly calm even in the face of you nearly breathing fire at him.

“Oh, he’s not wrong, you say? Why don’t we fix this, then? His other solution was to marry you off, maybe we should pursue that plan too?” you spit out through gritted teeth, a voice in your head telling you none of this will help but you can’t stop the rapid thrumming of your heart in your veins. Leto has a way of getting under your skin and you’re tired of letting him, but he just makes you so angry.

“It would’ve helped,” Gavin agrees, raising a hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind one ear. “But as I told him, I could never leave your side.”

His smile is softer than all the fabrics you’ve touched in your life and good god this man puts Peggy’s desserts to shame.

“You could.” Your shoulders slump as you recall the furious threats you had made against the councillors wanting to marry Gavin off. “I’d never force you to stay.”

“No, I couldn’t,” he says firmly, and the anger leaves you in a rushed breath when armour-clad arms wind around your waist, pulling you in. You pretend you can hear the familiar, steady beat of his soft, martyr heart beneath the steel as he tucks your head under his chin.

“I don’t own you, Gavin,” you repeat, for the umpteenth time. “We’re friends. We’ve known each other since we were ten. Short of committing a massacre, you know I would support whatever decision you make.”

Friends.

A wary, subdued boy in plain clothes, standing at your father’s side when he returned from war. A ward, he’d declared, from Sethia. Be nice. You remember being baffled at his presence, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You had fallen into slumber near the window, and at the first sound of hooves thundering across the grounds you had sprinted to the hall.

But who was this little boy looking like a baby bird displaced from its nest? Surely, his parents would come looking for him.

Years went by, and there was no attempt at contact from Gavin’s people. You used to pester him about it, asking if he’d like to send them a letter, but his response was always a little smile and a quick shake of his head.

“They don’t want me back,” he told you once. “I like you much better anyway.”

That was the day you decided Gavin was one of you. If they wanted him back, they would have to fight you for him. It was risky, to allow him to join the military. It just wasn’t done. Wards were glorified hostages, a way to keep kingdoms in line.

But Gavin is ours now. He won’t go back.

He still faces contempt from people who believed he was a spy, a man who could tear the country apart. But he remains steadfast at your side through it all, content to shield you and strengthen your soldiers. A warm, reliable presence. Somewhere along the way, he became a big part of what home means to you.

“I never asked you, did I?” you realize, all of a sudden, cheek smushed against unyielding plate, fingers tracing the symbols etched into the metal.

“Ask me what?”

“If you wanted to go back. To Sethia,” you clarify and your heart throbs madly as you wait for him to reply.

He takes moment to think it through.

“I did when I first came here. Everything was unfamiliar, I didn’t know anyone...it wasn’t home,” he admits, and you pull back slightly, scrutinizing his expression. You feel his breath on your skin, see his mouth so close; you force your eyes back up, grappling with the sudden surge of desire. His proximity flusters you more than he would ever know.

He shifts slightly, his own gaze drifting down your face before he looks up quickly. Feeling a bit too warm, you finish his train of thought in the way you’d hoped it would end.

“But...now everything is familiar and this is home?” You can’t hide the hope in your eyes, and he doesn’t reply for a moment, expression blank. You feel his hands struggling with something behind your back, but just as realisation dawns he’s pinching your cheek hard with a gloveless hand, a laugh shattering his poker face at your immediate disgruntlement.

“Yes. This is home,” he assures you, warm tones and honeyed eyes leaving you feeling disconcertingly hot. You avert your gaze with haste, your stomach clenching with emotions that still give you sleepless nights, and Gavin releases you only brush his fingers along your jaw and cup your cheek. “Which is why I ask that you let me do whatever I can to help.”

The warmth leaves you in an instant. You slip out of his comforting hold and out of the alcove without another word. “No. Time for lunch!”

You stalk away, breath heavy and fists clenched, oblivious to the man standing at the end of the hallway. Gavin, who slips out behind you, watching you go with a hooded, wistful gaze, turns to look at him.

“Lord Commander,” Lord Leto greets him, a tiny, knowing smile on his lips. “I believe we have some matters to discuss?”

You’ve already disappeared around the corner, and with a sigh, Gavin follows him.

You’ve loved Gavin for nearly half your life.

You don’t know when it went from trying to make the quiet, moody boy smile, to the same boy’s smile making your entire day better. You don’t know when you fell in love. It’s carved into you so deeply you wouldn’t know who you’d be without it. You’ve gotten into all sorts of mischief together, but kept each other out of trouble and had each other’s backs no matter what.

Gavin has devoted his life to protecting you, but you value his safety and happiness just as much. You’ve fought to keep him with you, to make your home his home, and you will continue to do so until your dying breath. It would be him and you, fighting at each other's backs, sneaking food from the kitchens late at night, learning how to sew because you did everything together.

He was there when your father left you, standing at your back as you beat your sword, and your anguish, against a training dummy. He was there with his clear eyes and no judgment, coaxing you to eat something when it felt like your appetite had deserted you. He helped you breathe.

You had been there for each other after your first kills.

It’s not as if everyone suspects him. The men he fights with admire him deeply, looking to him for guidance and as a role-model. Most civilians have even set their prejudice aside, acknowledging his loyalty, won over by his charismatic demeanour, charming people everywhere he goes, often to your own frustration—mostly because you feel you’re not nearly as likeable, despite Gavin’s assurances.

But he has a place here.

“So why are you telling me you’re leaving?” you ask numbly, standing in your chambers, in your nightgown as Gavin tries to get you to put a robe on before giving up and wrapping it around your shoulders.

It’s been a week since the council meeting, with more reports of Sethian sightings coming in. You had just awoken to Gavin’s knock at your door. He’s not in his armour, dressed comfortably for long travels instead and there’s a distinctly guilty look in his eyes, with a steely resolve sheltering it. There’s a scroll in his hands.

Your heart plummets at the sight.

“If I don’t at least try—it might work, ___,” he says, so earnest it might break you. “Eli will be taking over for me, they’re sending someone else to the borders.”

“Or it might not, and they’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill them.” He sighs, rushes to you, dropping the paper on a table before cradling your pale cheeks and forcing you to meet his gaze. You wonder if you could reach it before him and throw it in the still lit hearth, set it on fire before he can do anything. “No.”

“Will you force me?” he asks, and a slap to the face would’ve hurt less. He notices how your face crumbles and looks slightly apologetic, but still so damn determined.

“You know I won’t.” He dips his head, pressing his forehead to yours, sweet syrup on his breath and he doesn’t get to do this, not when he’s leaving.

“I know. This is something I need to do. But, listen to me. I will come back to you.”

“Is it because you want to leave? Did I do something?” you croak, thoughts on the verge of spinning out of your control, and he visibly holds himself back from leaning in. “You’re my family. You know that, don’t you? I don’t care if they’re of the same blood as you, I…” you can’t bring yourself to continue, keeping your eyes locked with his despite the tears springing in them. But he understands.

And so he steps back to unsheathe his sword, sinking to one knee. His sword—one of a pair, forged for the two of you when you both came of age. They’ve never been too far apart either. God, you had been so confident that he’d be with you forever. He holds it pointed down, the tip of it sinking into the thick carpet.

“Listen to me.” His tone is firm in that way he uses when he needs you to focus.

You attempt to quiet your mind, knowing full well your heart is a lost cause, feeling as if the floor is collapsing beneath you.

“ ___. I swear, upon this sword, I will come back to you. Alive.” You stare down at him in conflicted silence. “You’ve protected me for so long. Let me fix this for you. I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t try. And...”

You clutch the silk of your nightgown anxiously.

“And if I didn’t feel the same way, I would never even think of going back there,” he tells you, a glow settling about him as the sun begins to peek at your parting.

“If they hurt you...” you warn, eyes darting to your own sword out of habit, where it rests near your bedside. He reaches for your hand, brushing his lips across the back of it and keeping them there for a moment. Even with the chaos swirling within your chest, the soft contact sends your nerves tingling.

“I know. It won’t come to that.” He looks up at you, soulful eyes pleading and chipping away at your resolve. “Will you sign the mission?”

It’s true. You have protected Gavin, kept him close and within reach. This is a moment that will change your lives forever. You could choose to refuse, and not sign off on this. You could keep him safe.

Or you could trust him.

You sign it in resigned silence.

You could never disrespect him, or do him the injustice of not believing in him when he’s done nothing but support you all this time.

‘You don’t know that they won't hurt you. And I know you know that,’ you think, watching him walk to the door, turning to smile at you one last time. ‘Other people aren’t like you. They’re not good.’

You wave back at him, trying to muster a smile, but the thought that this could be the last time you see him makes it near impossible. “Gavin?”

He hovers at the threshold, hand resting on the mahogany door frame. Words unspoken hang in the air between you. They’re crawling up your throat, roaring to be let out, but you swallow them like you’ve done for years.

“When you return, there’s something I have to tell you. So...Don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting.” He hesitates, wanting to ask. He leaves with a small nod.

It’s not goodbye. But the pain you feel, a quiet helpless prickling, cannot be reasoned with.

Gavin had come to your home a boy with a chip on his shoulder, and a determination to prove himself. Before you knew it, he became the one man you knew you wanted to spend your life with.

But even Anna had never been on board with that.

“You could do it. But it would make all our lives very, very difficult.”

So you had never told him how you feel. You had gathered up your love and willed it to hide within you, but it always showed, threatening to burst at the seams at the most inconvenient times. It showed how you would seek him out the minute you had some free time. How you insisted on learning together, and snuck him sweet cakes whenever he felt low. In how you watched him do the most mundane things as if he was channelling the wind his ancestors were famous for.

It became obvious when you reacted to his suitors with clear disdain, and sometimes your sword. It’s not something you have ever been able to contain, not completely.

It’s been two months. Two numbing months without him, spent pacing restlessly, asking for reports obsessively, waiting for news from the docks. It’s a bitter, hopeful taste on your tongue, a rope wound tight in your chest.

You have a few regrets. Maybe should’ve told him how you felt. Or begged him not to go. You could’ve met the king in neutral lands.

You look back down at the report in your hands, something about the fae. But the words seem to keep dancing at the edges of your comprehension, and you feel frustration rise swiftly as it’s prone to do without Gavin here to temper you. It’s unfair to put the responsibility on him, but everything just keeps reminding you that he’s not here.

There’s a series of urgent knocks at the door to your study.

“Come in,” you call out, placing the document down with no small measure of relief at the prospect of a distraction. Perhaps you should add this to the list of things you hate doing without him: read.

The door flies open to reveal Minor, panting heavily—but smiling widely. Hope blooms anew in your chest and you fight to control it.

“It’s him,” he breathes. “The ship docked nearly an hour ago. Lord Gavin’s back.”

There’s no hiding your anxiety as you watch the gates.

You had been advised to wait in the throne room, where you accept other visitors, and you had seen fit to ignore that. This isn’t a visitor.

For a brief second, you wonder if your attire is too casual, before dismissing it; it’s just Gavin. At least you’re in a dress—a plain peasant dress it may be—although Anna doesn’t seem to agree with that sentiment.

A few soldiers had been sent to escort them from the docks, Gavin’s personal horse taken along despite concerns that it could be seen as inappropriate. Why would it be? It’s his horse.

And when he rides in through the gates, you nearly collapse at the sight of him unharmed. Relief fills you, pushing out every ounce of worry you’ve kept bottled up, and you can finally breathe again. His hair is shorter. He looks a little tired but that’s to be expected with the long journey. When he dismounts, the parting of his heavy cloak gives you a glimpse of his attire. Finely woven clothes—in Sethian colours. Your eyes fall on the foreign insignia stitched at the front of his cloak, that you had overlooked in your all-consuming joy.

There are four unknown men with him. Soldiers, from the look of them.

You have a feeling, and you don’t know how you feel about it.

Gavin’s eyes fall on you and your heart flutters at the way they light up; he approaches you without hesitation. You can feel the gazes of the people around you, their confusion and unease, disquieted and unsure of what to make of this.

He bows at the waist, before straightening back up and holding his hand out to you. “Your Majesty.” You notice the approving looks the strangers shoot each other.

You don’t think twice about placing your palm on his. Whatever’s going on, you have him back. “Welcome home.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your hand, lips curling against your skin.

Gavin doesn’t seem that different, but you know something has changed. It’s obvious he has something on his mind; he offers a crooked elbow to you and escorts you back in. It shows in how he stands, confident with a secret in his eyes, while you sink down onto your throne.

“Well?” you demand, and he fights a smile. His entourage bristles slightly, but you hadn’t missed their curious, calculating looks when you had greeted them.

“There is one thing I should probably begin with.” You wait, breath held against its will in your chest. “My family has accepted me back into their ranks.”

You wonder if you misheard.

“Elaborate. Please.”

“My revered father has reinstated me. As a Sethian,” Gavin explains and one of his escorts steps forward.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Gavin of Sethia, to be precise. Your Majesty,” he added with haste, stepping back with a bow as you resist the urge to start tapping your nail against the gilded plates of your throne. Anna, Leto and Minor stand to one side; the council members look oddly pleased at the announcement, while Minor looks floored.

You had expected and hoped for many outcomes, but for his father to take him back just like that? Batting away the jealousy, frustratingly territorial in nature, you accept this result. Gavin would not look nearly as cheerful if something had gone wrong.

“That’s quite generous of him. It’s good to see the esteemed ruler of Sethia remains as kind as ever.” Very pointedly not rolling your eyes when you see two of the group looking pleased with the praise for their king. You look back at Gavin, silently demanding him to spit it out. He looks pleased as punch and you’re literally at the edge of your seat here.

“Yes, he’s quite benevolent. Unfortunately for me, he already has an heir. My brother has been raised to rule Sethia, despite being younger in age, so that is one position he couldn’t give back to me.”

“And…” you prompt, leaning forward in your seat.

“And so he sends me with a proposal. An alliance, to keep peace, one contingent on two conditions.” The man to his right steps forward with a little smirk, holding out a document to Gavin but he waves it away. “The first is to join Sethia in the New World alliance.”

You glance at Anna, and only look back once she nods. The look on Leto’s face is, for once, unreadable.

“And the second?” you ask, clutching the arms of your seat tighter.

“Marriage.”

For a moment, there’s complete silence in the hall, before it’s broken by Minor’s gasp and the sudden chatter that comes from behind the doors to the room. In the midst of the shocked reactions, your eyes remain fixed on Gavin’s smile.

“We’ll call a meeting,” Anna announces over the voices, when it looks like you’re unable to get a word out. “It’s good to see you, Prince Gavin. While we discuss your proposal, please allow Minor to escort your men to their assigned quarters. Would you prefer your old quarters or…?”

His eyes find you and you rise from your seat, descending from the raised platform with a sudden calm blanketing over you.

“Before that. Anna, I was wondering if I could ask Prince Gavin to accompany me? Just to the gardens, there are some concerns I’d like to discuss with him.”

You take his elbow before he can even offer it, pulling him along without another word.

Your mind is oddly quiet, as if unable to produce a coherent thought, as you walk, your preferred gazebo soon within sight: the one surrounded by all your favourite flowers. Gavin’s quiet throughout as well, but the moment you’re alone and out of sight he slips his arm from your grip to curl his hand around yours, his skin just warm as you remember it, and something relaxes in your chest.

“Just to be clear, when you say marriage…” you trail off, turning to him when you step into the shade.

“Well, Sethia found themselves with a prince to spare, and what better way to secure an alliance?” Gavin explains, holding onto your hand. “And, yes, that’s me.”

‘This is too good to be true’, you think and feel a bit faint when he sinks to a knee, no sign of nervousness in the smooth lines of his face. “Are you-?”

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your hand, and it’s just like when he was leaving, but this time he’s here to stay.

“I should wait, shouldn’t I? To be honest, I don’t think I can. I’m sorry about that. But we’ve waited so long. And these two months apart have been ones I never wish to repeat in my lifetime. Even though I’ve known it for a long time, I don’t think us not being together is an option. It’s awful, it’s what I imagine foul magic is like.”

He smiles up at you, a little wobbly and so very soft. Your eyes feel wet and damn it, you had wanted to propose first.

“I love you, ___. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. And I know we’ve both known for a long time, but...there’s no longer anything that can separate us.*” He takes a deep breath, and another. “I came up with a lot of things I wanted to say but I can’t seem to recall what they were. And the ring is in my trunk. I’m sorry for springing this on you.”

You study him, his quiet frustration at not being able to recall his no doubt carefully chosen words and the way his hand flexes around yours.

You sink to your knees, hands weaving through his hair and tugging him close to finally, without the need to hide, crush your mouth to his, nearly falling into him at the taste of him on your tongue. His arms wrap around you, holding you to him, his cheeks just as wet as yours.

You kiss and kiss to your heart’s content, because even though the council will insist on discussing it—

“Yes, I will marry you,” you whisper against his lips. A part of you worries your heart might burst with how desperately it’s pounding. It feels unreal, but you think kissing him will help. “I hated it without you too. I love you so much. And I agree, I suspect dark magic is quite similar in nature.”

He listens to your rushed words carefully, nodding along.

“We’ll ask the court mage, once the tower finally gives us one.”

Us.

You grin at him, primal satisfaction rushing through you at his hazy eyes and swollen mouth. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

He kisses you again, breathless with a giddy sort of joy. “I’m going to be your husband.”

“I’m going to be your wife.” Your grin mirrors his, ridiculously wide and your knees are starting to hurt, but it feels like, in this one moment, everything is going right and you get to have the one thing you’ve wanted, properly.

“Glad you let me go?” He sits back, crossing his legs and pulling you onto his lap. After aeons of very carefully just keeping yourself off him, you can’t get over how right this feels, of your bodies pressed close and hands touching freely.

His smile looks a touch smug.

“...I suppose. This victory is yours.” You can’t feign displeasure over it when you can feel his lips on your hair, your forehead, and you can tilt your head back to let him slot his eager mouth over yours.

His response is a breathy laugh against your flushed skin.

“No, it’s ours.”

It’s time to plan a wedding.

Welcome to the finish line! Thank you for reading ♡

(MLQC masterlist)

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc bai qi #love and producer #mr love gavin #I LOVE GAVIN #now i can go back to reading without feeling guilty...for 2 days

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godsofhumanity · 3 years

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What are some of your headcanons/characterizations for the other titans in your CronusXRhea story?

the stuff under the cut, i have to stress, is all from my comic, and i know a lot of it isn’t supported by actual myth, but that’s where the creative license comes in i guess!

EDIT: i had some new thoughts about these titans and i decided to give them a little more shape,, but i didn’t want to delete my original thoughts, so my old ideas are striked-through (struck-through?) and my new ideas are just normal.

the order of the characters** here is major characters to minor:

CRONUS | titan of time. has the ability to freeze time, and make it reverse, but not to go forward because technically speaking, there is no one “future”- different decisions result in different scenarios happening, so Cronus can’t really control that. personality wise- he’s smart, loyal, determined, but he’s also willing to bend the rules, believes in the philosophy “no such thing as cheating”, paranoid, and a little insane.

RHEA | mother of the Olympians. doesn’t have any particular powers. she has the ability to heal minor wounds, and she's good at fighting- with a weapon and without. she’s ambitious, witty, kind, and passionate. she doesn’t hesitate to step into the role of a leader, and is prepared to take great risks if she believes the cause is just. Rhea's also a bit of trickster- she has an awful sense of humour which is why she gets along with Cronus and Iapetus so well. she enjoys pranks.

OURANOS | father of the titans, god of the Heavens. he’s created by Gaia after she desires someone to be her equal and unconsciously brings Ouranos to life. as a consequence of being Gaia’s “equal”, although he’s not a primordial himself, he has power on par with them. personality wise- he’s arrogant, cocky, condescending, possessive, powerful, cruel and scary. he has pretty much no redeemable qualities. he hates his children and gets rid of the Cyclopes and the Hundred-Handers because he believes that they could potentially pose a threat to his relationship with Gaia; he is extremely jealous of Gaia’s love for her children, and his need for her to only show him attention is his primary motive.

GAIA | mother of the titans and other “monsters”. Gaia has a somewhat ambiguous personality. she values her children above all, and doesn’t hesitate to kill Ouranos after he throws her beloved children, the Cyclopes and the Hundred-Handers into Tartarus where she cannot reach them. she is neither good nor evil, she is simply motivated by her maternal nature. she has no favourites amongst the titans, but is pleased when Cronus takes on the challenge of deposing Ouranos. however, she later is more than willing to help Rhea then depose of Cronus because she doesn’t care for arrogance, and, once again, hates Cronus for when he repeats Ouranos’ mistake and imprisons the Cyclopes and the Hundred-Handers.

COEUS | titan of magic and witchcraft (in my AU that is!!). his wife is Phoebe, and for the events of the story, they have only one child born- Asteria. Rhea seeks Coeus’ help when she requires a potion to make Cronus’ vomit back out her children, and to also strip him of his powers. Cronus also seeks Coeus’ help in creating a potion to amplify his powers, and though Coeus is reluctant to help, he is forced to after Cronus threatens to have an “accident” befall his family. personality wise- Coeus is rather timid, he prefers to sit on the sidelines and warns Rhea that her plan to depose of Cronus may result in Cronus himself killing her. he is kind and well-natured, and though sometimes he has moments of self-doubt, even after Cronus threatens him and his daughter, he doesn’t rat Rhea out to Cronus and tell him about the potion he made for her, so there’s that.

MNEMOSYNE | titan of memory. her main role is in the Castration of Ouranos arc. when Cronus activates his time powers for the first time and reverses time back to when Gaia first gathered the titans together, Mnemosyne is the only one who remembers that all these events have actually happened before. personality wise- she’s generally pretty chill. she’s kind and generous, and also rather talented when it comes down to the arts, and this is something that is reflected in her children, the Muses.

OCEANUS | titan of the oceans. Oceanus is the eldest of all the titans, and perhaps, the wisest. his power is to communicate and control sea-life. when Gaia gathers her children and tells them about her plan to depose Ouranos, Oceanus is reluctant to take action because he knows how powerful their father is, and he knows the risk is great. Cronus calls him a coward for this, but Oceanus is undeterred. although he does help his siblings fight Ouranos, he is always cautious of the consequences of failure. he takes Rhea’s side against Cronus. personality wise- Oceanus is level-headed, wise, and stoic, but he doesn’t like taking risks.

TETHYS | titan of the oceans and rivers. Tethys is the wife of Oceanus, and her ability is to control the rivers and the seas. she, like Oceanus, is cautious about taking down Ouranos. she supports Oceanus when he advises against Gaia’s plan, but also joins him when he agrees to fight with Cronus. Tethys takes Rhea’s side against Oceanus. personality wise- she is noble, and righteous, and hates arrogance above all else.

IAPETUS | Iapetus is perhaps the only other titan to rival Cronus in terms of cunning. he takes Cronus’ side throughout the whole story because he believes that he plays to the winning side. Iapetus isn’t exactly selfish, but he does seek to protect his own hide first. he takes Cronus' side during the Titanomachy because he believes in Cronus- Cronus is the one who liberated the Titans from Ouranos, and that means a lot to Iapetus. although Iapetus is older, he's always looked up to Cronus, and they've always been thick as thieves. Iapetus is Cronus' right-hand man and the trust that they place in each other goes both ways. when Cronus reveals to Iapetus what really happened to his and Rhea's children, Iapetus' admiration for Cronus is so strong that he's not even horrified by Cronus' atrocities- rather, he proclaims that his loyalty is even more steadfast than before. there is no stage where Iapetus doubts/betrays Cronus. personality wise- he enjoys playing games and tricks, and he is one of the chief architects of the plan to castrate Ouranos.

HYPERION | titan of light. he is married to Theia, and doesn’t really have a significant role in the story. he doesn't really "choose" a side during the Titanomachy, but the magic of Crius forces him to take Cronus' side. fortunately for him, he escapes punishment in Tartarus when his children (Helios, Selene, and Eos) beg Zeus to have mercy (which he grants). personality wise- he’s generally a fun guy, never gloomy and always positive. he's a little narcissistic though, and he loves flattery.

THEIA | titan of brightness and sight. she’s married to Hyperion, and is the eldest of Gaia’s daughters. her only real role is when a young Cronus jokingly says that he’ll make Theia his queen to irritate Rhea. personality wise- she’s kind and loving, though more quiet and timid than her other sisters.

PHOEBE | wife of Coeus and mother of Asteria (and Leto but Leto isn’t born yet in the story). again, she doesn’t really have a role, but personality wise- she’d be very artsy, and generally chill. she has some degree of prophetical powers, and Zeus makes her an oracle during his reign until Apollo is born (and then Apollo takes on that role).

CRIUS | titan of the constellations. IRL, Crius doesn’t really have much of a mythology- there’s no role listed, just that his wife was another goddess named Eurybia and he had a few kids, and then was chucked into Tartarus. so, he also doesn’t have much of a role in my story either, but he also takes Cronus’ side, and ends up in Tartarus with Iapetus because of it. idk why, but i imagine his personality being similar to Oceanus’, and so, Crius helps Cronus because he thinks that Cronus is in the right, and takes second place in terms of loyalty to Cronus (Iapetus being number one). Crius is one of the most intelligent from the Titans, and he's pretty crafty, though he isn't evil. Crius serves Cronus for similar reasons to Iapetus.

EURYBIA | goddess of mastery over the seas. her main role is as Crius' wife, but I wanted her to take Cronus' side not because she particularly believes in Cronus' cause, but because Crius fights on his side- so it's more of a question of allegiance to family rather than allegiance to authority. Eurybia's siding with Cronus causes lots of heartbreak within Crius' family :/// but i just didn't like the idea of having every wife in the story being sidelined and not fighting. on her wikipedia page, Eurybia is described as having "a heart of flint within her", so i imagine her to be very headstrong and powerful, and i just can't imagine that she sits in silence while her husband goes fighting. personality wise- she's very friendly, confident and bold, where Crius is a little more aloof.

THEMIS | titan of justice. again, pretty much no role in the story. she takes Rhea’s side of course (since she’s on the side of justice), and with Rhea, is one of the first to agree with Cronus’ plan to get rid of Ouranos, and she’s enthusiastic about it as well. personality wise- she’s similar to Rhea- she’s headstrong, loyal, and outspoken.

**only out of the Titans + Gaia + Ouranos

#5/07/2021 i made a few edits to this and i added eurybia as a new character to the story ^-^#so yeah #the only ones with actual significant roles are the first six characters in the list..#i haven't really given too much thought about the rest because they're just not relevant to my story lol #anon #anonymous #asks #new tag for this stuff ->#oc tag

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

Text

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 40

Last time: Our protagonists put on a play for Kimblee, Yoki actually proved to be useful, and Al lost his map. Onwards!

Really digging the new intro. And hey, just noticed that Al’s still got his “hair” cut short from his run-in with Buccy’s chainsaw. Continuity! Hey, you’re the Central jerks who told Armstrong the Great to go south while you took her chair! Boo! I mean yeah, she did kill Raven like you suspect, but he totally deserved it! In Central Armstrong the Great’s walking along when she oh ho! She’s run into her rival, Colonel Roy Mustang!

They snark at each other for a bit, although Armstrong the Great’s not that wrong when she accuses him of getting the post for being “well-connected”. Further attempts at flirting are shot down (she’s both an Armstrong and lives in freezing weather conditions, do not offer to buy her food if you value your bank account), as well as a final attempt to pass off his Flower Mountain. Oh yeah, she should visit her grandmother while she’s here! Here we go, Fuhrer King Bradley vs Major-General Armstrong the Great. He gets right down to it, demanding to know what she’s done with Raven. Knowing she can’t completely lie, Armstrong the Great plays it off as doing Bradley a service, cutting down a blabbermouth who spilled all sorts of secrets like immortality, the plan of the country, and Bradley’s true nature. And knowing all of that, she still came within striking distance of this monster. Because heck, she hears that there’s an empty General’s chair… Wow. Ok, that’s badass. From being summoned for killing one of Bradley’s men, she’s spun this into a seat of power to strike against the Goths. Sure, she has to play along for now, and put her troops in the center of the trap, but damn if I’m not impressed. You go, Ice Queen. Slightly less impressed with Bradley though, while he’s normally all composed and menacing he’s gone all Glowing Red Eye and Smirking At Wordplay here. Still better than Kimblee. Anyways, give it up for General Armstrong! While she’s in Central, her troops are still up north, glaring at those pompous Central officers swanning around like they own the place. Pfft. Their boss might not be in the area, but the soldiers of Fort Briggs still act as one, and when the moment comes to do more than glare at the Centries’ backs… [Buccy]: “From here on, the bears will fight the tigers.” Episode 40 - “Homunculus (The Dwarf in the Flask)” ...ok, I was misled before with thinking “The First Homunculus” would be about Uncle, but second time’s the charm! Gimme Big Bad Backstory! Hey Riza! Hope you’re feeling better after that run-in with the creepy kid. Still have that cut on your cheek? Roy takes a seat at her table and damnit Bradley, why’d you have to go and split up the power couple, with the whole hostage situation hanging over their heads it’s just awkward work conversation with hardly any good banter. I mean, all Riza can say is that Roy is a slacker, I know she’s got way better insults than that. Yeah, especially after the Selim encounter she has to be careful what she says. But she taps her mug to get Roy’s attention? Twice? And the Plotting Music has started up as Roy double-taps his own pen, and oh my Leto they’re talking in code yes. Now Roy’s in a bathroom going over his papers, listing off oh I see, the code is she says a name and he uses the first letter. Clever! Roy’s listing off the names, starts getting shocked as he goes along… yup, I’d say that SELIM BRADLEY IS HOMUNCULUS is something to get shocked over. Roy immediately destroys the paper, wondering what the heck’s about to happen in Central. Down below Uncle’s lounging in his Pipe Chair, taking a nap? Uncle Flashback! To a young man, being yelled at by an electronic voice? Looks like a guy in ratty clothes with a broom, an Alchemist’s Apprentice?

And there’s a bottled-up flask with a shifting black cloud inside, I’m guessing that’s the titular Homunculus. Flask seems disappointed that Apprentice isn’t shocked at being talked to, but is pleased at the lack of fear. Apprentice is apparently #23, oh so he’s a Homunculus working for the Alchemist. Or a slave? So wait, is Apprentice human? Flask is explaining what “deeded” means, says that Apprentice isn’t very bright and wonders how he was born “from someone as stupid as you”. Ok, so the Alchemist used some of Apprentice’s blood in an experiment, that created Flask. Flask is grateful, and decides to give Apprentice a name. Something noble-sounding, but not too complicated for his stupid little brain… how about Von Hohenheim? Oooh, so we’re getting Beard backstory which should lead into Uncle backstory. Hmmm. I see what you’re doing Flask, offering to teach Beardless, raise him up from his life as a slave. I mean yeah, slavery is awful and everything, but I’m getting the distinct impression that your goals aren’t exactly Good. The little arms and Red Eye and manic grin you’re sporting aren’t helping your case, either. [Flask]: “I’ll tell you what, Von Hohenheim, you can call me “The Dwarf In The Flask”, Homunculus.” Eh, I think I’ll stick with Flask for now. Time is passing, suns and moons flying past an hourglass that’s picked up by Beardless while a man in blue robes scribbles away in the background. There’s talk about how All Things Are One, Beardless standing on a cliff with Blue Robe to the side carrying Flask. Wait, is he giving Alchemy lessons to Beardless? For a guy who has numbered slaves to do the drudge work, that’s a surprising act. Unless this is just so Beardless can be a more effective worker for him, so jury is still out on Blue Robe. Beardless seems to impress his boss by talking about how if All is outside the One then it is Nothing or somesuch, Blue Robe says he passed and that Von Hoenheim is now an Alchemist. Really? You give your slave lessons and name him your equal? I really don’t know what to make of Blue Robe. Regardless, Beardless is humble and says he’s still only a servant. Flask chuckles at that. Later Beardless is thanking Flask for his life being improved with the knowledge the Homunculus gave him, earning his Master’s respect. Heck, maybe he’ll even get a girlfriend one day! Flask mocks humanity needing to procreate in order to continue existing, Beardless argues that it’s the bonds of friends and family that people live for. That leads to the question of what makes Flask happy. [Flask]: “Well… I’d hate to be guilty of asking too much, but I think I’d be happy if I could just leave this flask…” Mid-ep pictures of a scuffed-up Beardless (Slave Number 32) wielding a stick, and The Little One Inside The Flask with his huge grin.

Uh oh, creepy music in a darkened hall. Flask is resting on a cloth stand, asking why “someone with so much power and prosperity” would need immortality. Uh oh. Blue Robe snaps at Flask to mind his manners when in front of royalty, seems the noble that Blue Robe works for wants to be immortal. Blue Robe even threatens to smash Flask’s flask (so would that set them free or kill them?), but Flask talks back saying that he wouldn’t dare destroy such a source of knowledge. King certainly looks old enough that mortality is a pressing concern, he demands the secret from Flask who remarks on the age of the King of Xerxes- oh dear, that’s a name that we recognize. So for one we know that this will not end well for the kingdom, and also GOOD LETO Beard is freaking old if he’s from the Precursor civilization to our modern characters! So I think it’s safe to say that the little black-and-red grinning ball of smoke is Evil, it looks like the King’s ordered his people to dig “irrigation canals” all around the country. No sooner do they go to bed after a hard day of standing around and talking about how awesome their King is, that a bunch of soldiers come riding in and slaughter the workers to “carve out a crest of blood”. Dude, not cool. Later Beardless is carrying Flask around as townsfolk murmur about how villages have been getting wiped out, Beardless remarks that it’s an awful tragedy. [Flask, being totally sincere]: “Yeah, real tragic.” A couple more slaughtered villages later, an hourglass runs out and the King is woken up by Blue Robe, along with another Robe Alchemist and Slave Number 32 who is now rocking the Beard. The King just snarks that the TC took long enough. Time to get some immortality all up in this royalty! (Gee, I wonder if it’ll work…) The ceremony begins, the King giving some blood to an urn ask Beard looks on in awe, so happy to see his ruler achieve immortality oh gosh look at all that black smoke and red lighting, looks like things aren’t working out so well. Spindly black arms rise up from the ground to freak out the Xerxians in the circle, the King has just enough time to realize that this isn’t immortality before he and his flunkies start dying. Turns out the real center of the circle is where Flask and Beard are, Flask used the blood of his blood-brother to open the doorway for both of them. A great eye appears below a shocked Beard before enveloping him and growing to encompass the entire city, dozens of giant shadow arms erupting across a screaming nation before they descend on the eye. In the Whitespace Flask and Beard are Deconstructed and the light show ends. In the morning, Beard wakes up next to a broken flask, calling out for his Majesty and his Master before stumbling outside to a city of corpses. [Beard]: “Somebody… there must be someone left…” [Uncle]: “It’s no use. All of their souls have been taken from them.” Beard thinks that the one standing above him is his King and bows, but looks up to see his own face. Uncle says that he created a body using Beard’s blood, now he can walk on his own two legs. [Uncle]: “To thank you for your blood, I’ve given you a name, and I’ve given you knowledge. And now, I’ve given you a body that will live forever.” Yup. Beard’s immortal, carrying half of all the souls of Xerxes in his body. You know, I can kind of understand why he calls himself a monster now. Beard springs back to the waking world on a train, seems he dozed off. So where are you heading now? Finally going to join your boys and be useful, or are you still kicking around Amestris doing whatever it is you do? Ooh! Teacher! Looks like Izumi and Sig are on the same train as Beard! Wait, have they ever met before? Ok, Teacher’s talking about how she finally gets to meet Papa Elric, and Beard finally gets to meet the teacher of his sons. Uh oh, Izumi’s having some stomach problems, Sig goes to get her medicine before Beard offers to take a look. Right, he’s got his Philosopher’s Stone blood, he can patch her up. Sig is sent to “get a car” so he can talk to Teacher privately, he confirms that she’s seen the Truth and she sacrificed her internal organs. Ok, now he can WHAT WHAT NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO BEARD WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST STABBED TEACHER WHAT THE FUCK I FINALLY SETTLED ON YOU BEING A GOOD GUY (barring you abandoning your family) BUT NOW YOU’RE KILLING OFF THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN THE TRUTH IS YOUR PLAN SERIOUSLY TO KILL OFF UNCLE’S POTENTIAL SACRIFICES SO HE CAN’T USE THEM FUCK THAT, FUCK YOU, KICK HIS ASS SIG wait Teacher is ok? She’s breathing easier? There’s no wound? Ah. Ok, well aside from Beard’s deplorable bedside manner and scaring the living daylights out of me, he’s done a good thing. He apparently can’t replace Teacher’s injuries as they were “a testament to her sin” (so is that the reason you haven’t fixed your kids yet with your Philosopher Blood?), but he did rearrange her organs to allow better blood flow. [Teacher]: “You’re the boy’s father, but who… who are you?” [Beard]: “Who am I? I am a Philosopher's Stone, in the form of a man. That’s what I am.” Post credits has Ed explaining Philosopher’s Stones to Sideburns, who’s skeptical about so much power being held in such a small package. Ed says he’s never seen a Stone larger than that, to make one you’d have to kill thousands. Cue image of Beard eating dinner with the Curtises. [Ed]: “Maybe it’s possible, but I would never want to see it.”

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 40

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mermaidsirennikita · 6 years

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Ok, but why do people act as if it's only ScarJo who is the problem. I mean people were drooling over Jared Leto and Eddie Redmayne playing trans characters. Some people were critical, sure, but it never got half of backlash like ScarJo did. Is it because they are men and since some women find them hawt they got a pass, but not a ScarJo?

Okay, not really into the implication that Scarjo is getting railed against because she’s a woman. For one thing, she was famous long before Eddie was; for another, she’s been much more sought after and discussed for her looks. I think that depends solely on what you’re reading. I remember seeing a ton of backlash against Eddie; the mainstream media didn’t pick up on it like they are with Scarlett because he was less famous than she is (and still is tbh) and he also wasn’t coming off of playing an Asian character.

I think that the backlash is more severe against Scarlett because while she and Eddie are equally wrong for playing trans people, she was already preeeeeetty unlikable for other reasons. She just played an Asian character. She’s defended Woody Allen publicly. And she didn’t help herself by issuing a whiny response about how other actors did a bad thing and got a pass (which... they didn’t, the issue is just being more discussed as time is going on; back when Felicity Huffman played a trans character, for example, trans issues weren’t as discussed in the media at all).

I don’t know if Eddie is an otherwise good person who did a shitty thing; I don’t know much about his personal life. But he has maintained a much better public image than Scarlett did prior to taking on her role. And I don’t have much sympathy for her, because the choices she has made that taint her image (playing an Asian character, defending Woody Allen) are entirely her own. She strikes me as fucking idiot, to be honest with you. And frankly, she’s lucky that SHE has her sex symbol status to fall back on because it’s not as if she’s knocking performances out of the park, and she isn’t a major box office draw if she’s not playing Natasha. There’s a point where, even if you want to be an asshole in your private life, you have to start considering your public image if you’re in Hollywood. This is barely a backlash--I’ve largely seen sites like Buzzfeed reporting. It’s not as much as she’s cumulatively deserved imo because she’s still had 0 issue finding work or being lauded as a feminist since playing an Asian character and defending Woody, sooo.

#Anonymous

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talesfromthefade · 6 years

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"I gave you everything!" for DWC? Cheers!

Orana, Fenris, & Garrett Hawke (Background Fenhawke), for @dadrunkwriting

It’s truly not on purpose. Once, when she had lived with Hadriana or even the Pavus household towards the end, keeping a keen ear for whispers and the goings-on had been a necessary means of self-preservation and survival. It isn’t like that with the Hawkes, though it took several months after so many years with a vastly different experience to become more accustomed to it and not always looking over her shoulder or cowering when she was called upon. She pays attention now, because despite herself, in spite of experience that suggests she should know better, she’s come to care for them. For Garrett, for his sister, and their friends, some of whom under different circumstances, she could even see becoming her own. Regardless, Garrett seems happier, hopeful, these last few days in a way she realizes she’s missed. So when she comes back home from yet another successful trip by herself to the market a few weeks later to find Hawke looking worried and talking quietly with Aveline and Fenris in the study she’s not really trying to eavesdrop, she’s just… concerned. She resolves herself to make the group of them a plate of something or other since they’re sure to be hungry when a name she’s neither heard nor spoken in years stops her dead in her tracks.

It can’t be the same one. Varania isn’t that unusual of a name. Is it, Orana wonders. She forces herself to prepare a plate for Hawke and his company, rather than continuing to listen with some difficulty. It isn’t her business, and she won’t betray Garrett or Sonja’s trust by prying like this. Not when the pair of them have been so kind to her.

She should just let it go, but the possibilities keep her up that evening. Could it be her? Is that even possible? But why now? What could she want? To take her back home with her? Would she even want to go? Once upon a time, such a thing would have been a dream for the young elf. It’s been so long now, however, and so much has changed since the last time she’s seen her sister. She’s forgiven her. Varania was young. She, even younger. Nothing but a burden to her. But sharing blood doesn’t necessarily follow that they will have anything in common with one another, that they might get along. Orana knows the life she’s had in the time since they last saw one another, has Varania’s been the same? Better? Worse? She doesn’t know, and the not knowing is maddening.

It takes a little work, not yet having worked up the courage to take Varric up on his offer of visiting him or coming out to a night with the rest of the group at the Hanged Man, but she finds her way to the tavern the following morning when her need to know finally gets the better of her, and stops only a few feet inside of the door to stare at the red-haired elven woman who sits waiting at a nearby table bearing an uncanny resemblance to the portrait of a much younger girl she carries in the locket at her neck.

“Varania,” she whispers, eyes wide, voice full of equal parts hope and disbelief.

The older redheaded elf looks up, looking puzzled as the face she meets clearly isn’t the one she had been expecting, then studies Orana with a kind of dawning comprehension and what can only be described as revulsion when she finally takes stock of it all, including what the other elf is wearing.

“I thought you were dead,” Varania manages finally shaking her head, though unspoken in the air between them Orana swears she can hear the words her sister doesn’t say- that perhaps she may have wished or hoped as much was true. She doesn’t remember much about Varania, she was so young when they were separated after all, but she’s always liked to think that Varania had loved her, in her own way. That perhaps she had only parted with her sibling in the hopes of giving them both a chance for a better life. It seems, however, that the decision was far less charitable or difficult for her than the younger elf has often liked to imagine.

“Hawke,” Orana hears from behind her in a familiar gruff voice that makes her jump in surprise. “What is your servant doing with my sister,” Fenris demands softly. Sister, Orana thinks, mind reeling once more. Fenris is… But that would mean, Orana thinks, whipping about in an instant to study the white-haired elf with new and wide eyes.

“It really is you,” Varania says, looking up at Fenris.

“Varania? I… I remember you. We played in our Master’s courtyard while Mother worked. You called me-”

“Leto,” Orana whispers at the same time as Varania, wide eyes shimmering with tears as she watches their exchange, temporarily forgotten, all eyes on the other two. A trembling hand reaches up to clasp her locket. All this time, right under her nose, she thinks stunned. Her family was within reach, Fenris- or Let, he was here with her all along.

“That’s your name,” Varania continues, though her voice rings somewhat solemn, nothing like a sister happily reunited with a long-lost sibling, much less two of them.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so…” Fenris asks as Orana and Hawke some to the same conclusion together. This, whatever it was supposed to be, isn’t a happy family reunion.

“Fenris, we have to get out of here, it’s a trap,” Garrett says, eyes wide with concern, nervously scanning the room for which direction the threat will come from.

“Ah, my little Fenris, predictable as always,” taunts an older man as he begins to descend the steps behind Varania with a small retinue of thugs, hired swords for extra muscle.

Fenris freezes. The sensation of a fist punching through one’s chest, of grabbing a heart and that momentary squeeze just before it’s ripped out, while intimately familiar to many of his attackers in their final moments, is not one the elf knows first-hand himself. He imagines, however, that it feels something like the terrifyingly icy chill that runs through his veins and the way both his breath and pulse seem to stutter as Danarius makes his way towards their small group, all smiles.

This is a dream. A nightmare. The trap he’d rightly feared when Hadriana first offered information on his sister in an attempt to bargain for her life. He should have known better, after years on the run, after what happened with the Fog Warriors… Sentimentality, attachments are simply too dangerous.

Large green eyes suddenly dart to the tall man beside him as Hawke scowls up at his former master, stepping up beside, though carefully not in front of him. That, Fenris is positive, takes a conscious effort on Garrett’s part. Not simply to rush forward and lay himself down in front of whatever waits for him. Danarius is his demon to face. Hawke is here, just as he’d asked, just as the man had promised him he would be, but he’s leaving the decisions in Fenris’ hands. Fenris can feel the slight tug at his markings to indicate his companion is pooling his mana, readying himself to strike, and another sudden wave of cold rushes over him.

Could Danarius draw from them as well? Use them somehow against him? Against Hawke? Could he turn him somehow? Order him to kill Garrett?

No. Gauntlets bite into his palms where they curl into tight fists. No, whatever Danarius may have planned for him, whatever he does, whatever he says, he won’t hurt him. Not any more than he has already done, Fenris thinks, correcting himself with the thought of their single night together, of Garrett’s gentle pleas for him to stay and work through it with him. He should have, it’s all too easy to see that now. He should have stayed. Should have gone back. Should have said something, put an end to this dancing around one another, long before now, when it could very well be too late. He’d waited instead, and so had Garrett and the thought of all the time wasted sees his gauntlets digging a little deeper into his skin. Regrets will get him killed, but anger… the anger he can use.

“I’m sorry it came to this, Leto,” Varania offers, shaking her head.

“You lead him here,” Fenris snarls angrily, as Orana’s eyes widen once more. No. No, Varania, she thinks. Orana has never seen or heard about his likeness, but there seems little room for doubt as to who this man with his clipped Tevene accent can be. Fenris’ former master. The Magister who marked and left him forever scarred. Can it really be possible that she would care so little for both of them that she would do such a thing? It’s disappointing, certainly, but not entirely beyond belief that she would be less than pleased to see her. Orana’s always been aware of, always known that not everyone would understand or accept her rejection of the body and gender she was born to. But she cannot fathom any offense that would justify this…

“Now, now, Fenris,” the Magister all but purrs with a simpering smile. “Don’t blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should.”

“I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius! But I won’t let you kill me to get them,” Fenris snarls.

“How little you know, my pet,” Danarius laughs. “So this is your new Master, then? The Champion of Kirkwall. Impressive.”

“Fenris doesn’t belong to anyone,” Garrett interrupts defensively.

“Do I detect a note of jealousy,” the Magister smirks, eyes glittering with amusement. “It’s not surprising. The lad is rather skilled, isn’t he?” Orana won’t pretend she knows what sort of skills that Danarius might be referring to, but she doesn’t like the Magister’s tone or the way his eyes sweep up and down Fenris in the least. Neither, it seems, does Garrett if his trembling fists are any indication.

“Shut your mouth Danarius,” Fenris snaps, the markings over his skin suddenly bursting to life with electric blue light the way she’s only ever had the occasion to see once before now: when he had been fighting Hadriana’s men, the day they’d saved and freed her.

“But who is the spare, I wonder,” Danarius muses, turning to Varania, temporarily brushing Fenris and Hawke’s simmering rage aside.

“Cayden,” Varania replies, in a tone that makes it clear even speaking the name is a source of disdain and disgust, and Orana looks away. She’s not used or heard that name in years. Doesn’t want it. It isn’t hers. Isn’t her. Varania’s wrong. She’s not Cayden, because she’s not a boy, Orana thinks desperately, fighting the urge to flee or to hide. The secret is out now. Fenris, Hawke, all of them will know the truth of it. Will hate her, mock her, discard her the way Varania, Halward, and Hadriana had.

“Really,” Danarius asks if anything seeming to become all the more delighted at the present turn of events unfolding before him. “You surprise me, Fenris. I thought you became my pet to free your sister and mother, to keep your baby brother from ever knowing bonds, but now you have him wearing a dress and doing what? Sweeping floors and fireplaces?

“What,” Fenris demands, looking alarmed, eyes darting between a tearful Orana, an impassive Varania, and his still smirking former master. “You told me he died,” Fenris accuses, glaring at Varania with such a look of concentrated anger if the elf were a mage would surely cause the other to spontaneously alight with flames.

“And so he did. We neither of us have a brother anymore. I had no way to know that the freak lived, let along somehow would have found his way here.”

“You mean, you didn’t bother to ask or look. You didn’t care about anyone but yourself,” Fenris seethes.

“Fenris,” Orana squeaks as the elf turns his penetrative gaze back on her once more, clearly still trying to catch up and take it all in. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t. I overheard her name at the manor and came to see, but I was just curious. I didn’t really think, and I would never help to give you back to him. Please, believe me,” she pleads softly, shaking her head, eyes wide, tear-filled and desperate.

“Mmm, touching as this little family get-together is,” Danarius interrupts, drawing the group’s collective attention back to him once more. “You and I have a boat to catch little wolf. But perhaps we should take the whelp back with us as well. What do you think, Fenris? I’m sure there’s room enough for a slip of a thing like her, and we could… work out a way for her to earn her passage.”

“Not a chance, Danarius,” Fenris hisses, hackles raised and shaking his head as he unsheathes his large broadsword.

“The word is ‘Master’,” Danarius corrects with a put-upon sigh.

“I’m going to enjoy wiping that smirk off your face,” Hawke replies, one hand already reaching for the stave at his back, the other cupping a small ball of flames, the tips of it licking at his fingertips.

For a moment, Orana thinks of running. This can only end now with someone dead, and she isn’t sure she can bear it if she has to watch another person she cares about being cut down. But she cannot simply leave them all to whatever their fate might be either. Not if there’s even the slightest chance that she can help them- her newfound, and her newly rediscovered family. She’ll die for them if the occasion calls for it, she thinks, heart picking up to rapid hard thumps against her ribs, even if none of them might do the same for her.

Fortunately, no one is expecting any kind of fight from the meek-looking serving elf. Possibly Danarius’ hired swords mistake her for one of the Hanged Man’s servers. SHe picks up a nearby chair and brings it down over the head of one of the mercenaries with a yell and as much force as she can muster, bringing him crashing to the ground, out cold before he can get to Merrill who is busy flinging spells at another one of them. She grabs a knife from a nearby table, and with an angry shriek, charges headlong at another who is about to jump Fenris from behind. The pair of them slam into the wall opposite and tumble to the floor, the dull blade- probably meant for little more than cutting break sinking into the mercenary’s unprotected neck from the force of her charge and their collective fall. He reaches out, attempt to choke her even as blood pours from him and is dead within moments, it having struck an artery, but Orana pulls the blade free and continues to stab at him with bruising force, still shrieking, needing to be sure, until Merrill comes over to her, and wrestles the knife from her hands, pulling her gently into her arms, and offering hushed and soothing whispers of reassurance. It’s alright. It’s over the other elf promises.

Distantly over Merrill’s shoulder, she registers Fenris lifting Danarius up by the collar, body still glowing from his markings as he dispatches the man that brought him so much suffering and has dogged him for so many years, before turning to their sister where she crouches against a nearby wall.

“I had no choice, Leto.”

“Stop calling me that,” Fenris demands, closing the gap between them.

“He was going to make me his apprentice. I would have been a Magister.”

“You sold out your own brother to become a Magister? And what about Orana,” Fenris asks fiercely, the young elf in questions head snapping up in surprise from where it had been resting against’s Merrill’s chest, fear-driven fury giving way to exhaustion as the adrenaline fades. “You sold our little sister into chains,” Fenris growls again, staring in disbelief and burning hate at his twin.

“She was our brother, Fenris,” Varania corrects.

“She is our blood,” Fenris insists, ignoring Varania’s correction, and Orana is torn between wanting to disappear or weep. SHe never wanted this. Any of it. It had been such a relief to live these last few years as she has done. Lonely at times, certainly, but free to be, to dress and act as the woman she’s always felt she was. Now the lie, the whole world, feels as though it’s crashing down around her. They all know, she thinks panicked, thoughts echoing loudly in her head. Where will she go now? WHat will she do? She’s earned a wage, living with and working for the Hawkes, but it’s hardly enough to begin again, entirely on her own. Could she really go back to being a slave again? But Fenris is defending her. He’s using her name and acknowledging her as the person- as the woman she’s always presented herself to be with him, and she’s choking on emotion because she’s lost the sister she thought she had, but not everything. Fenris is still the loving and protective big brother she always thought and hoped he might have been. Still cares and wants to protect her, even now he knows the truth, and it takes what seems a monumental effort to hold back the sob this revelation brings. Merrill seems to sense it too, rubbing gentle circles across her back as they all watch the exchange with interest.

“I did what I had to do,” Varania replies without remorse. “You have no idea what we went through. What I’ve had to do since Mother died. This was my only chance.”

“And no you have no chance at all,” Fenris growls, advancing on her.

“Fenris,” Orana gasps, her voice still hoarse from her earlier shouting.

“Wait,” Hawke interrupts a little louder as Varania takes to pleading with him to make her brother see reason. “Don’t kill her.”

“Why not,” Fenris demands, rounding on the mage. “She was ready to see me killed. Orana too,” he adds with a snarl. “What is she to me other than one more tool of the Magisters?”

“This is your family, Fenris. Your sister’s as much a victim as you were.”

“Elf… Fenris,” Varric interjects cautiously, no doubt thinking of Bartrand. “Don’t. It won’t help. Trust me.”

“I would have given you everything,” Fenris whispers brokenly, shaking his head. Varania backs away a little further until she hits the wall, but Fenris turns his back to her. “Get out,” he orders bitterly, not even turning to watch as she races for the door. But she stops, hesitates on the threshold, speaking even as he keeps his back to her.

“You said you didn’t ask for this, but that’s not true. You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won, you used the boon to have Mother and I freed.”

“Why are you telling me this,” Fenris demands turning to face her. It’s a story he already knows, Orana having shared it with him in the markets when they had bumped into one another just weeks ago, he just hadn’t known then that the story was also his.

“Freedom was no boon. I look on you now and I think you received the better end of the bargain. You thought you were saving us, but you left us,” she accuses.

There’s silence that follows after Varania leaves, the group taking the time to take stock and collect themselves, taking in the mess of bodies and blood strewn about them.

“I thought discovering my past would bring me a sense of belonging,” Fenris says softly after a while, shaking his head. “But I was wrong. Magic has tainted that too. There’s nothing for me to reclaim. I am alone.”

“That’s not true,” Merrill interrupts with a pointed look to the younger elf she’s still cradling in her arms before Orana can speak, taking her by surprise not following up with an argument in defense of magic and mages instead.

“It doesn’t have to be-” Orana offers cautiously, eyes still full of tears. “Maybe I am not exactly what you expected, but… I care about you, Fenris. I have well before today. Before I knew you were my brother. I would even if you weren’t.”

“You… fought for me,” Fenris asks suddenly taking notice of the blood that stains her arms and front of her dress. “But you don’t- You could have-” he protests suddenly looking fearful. “Are you alright,” he asks concerned, quickly striding over towards her.

“I’m fine. I think. Most of it is his,” she gestures to the merc slumped dead against the wall a few feet away, and Merrill nods in confirmation. She’s not the same level of healer that Anders may be, but it seems the younger elf has managed to avoid any serious injury in the scuffle. “You saved me. Fought for me once before I was even born. How could I do any less? I couldn’t let him take you, let him hurt you again,” she offers in quiet explanation.

“For all the good it did,” Fenris huffs bitterly. “You don’t think… that I- abandoned you somehow,” he asks, clearly still thinking of everything Varania had said when she left.

“I never thought that,” Orana assures him, shaking her head. “I have only ever wished you well and happy,” she promises, one hand gesturing towards the locket at her breast, not daring to touch it with her bloody hands. Fenris’ shoulders slump a little.

“You’re not,” he admits finally. “-What I expected,” he clarifies. “But you are more, not less,” he offers softly with a shake of his head towards the door their sister ran through, as Orana bites back another sob, an ocean of emotions threatening to overwhelm her, most significantly, relief. “I know we have a lot to talk about. I- I may need a little time,” he admits to her finally, sounding slightly apologetic. “But I am glad you are alright,” he says sincerely.

Orana nods, smiling weakly.

“We’re here for you too,” Hawe offers softly, gesturing towards the rest of the group that came with him. “I’m here, Fenris,” the mage assures him meaningfully, and Fenris tilts his head, looking torn, sad, large green eyes heavy with grief as a hand slowly reaches out to cup the other’s cheek before he can think better of it or stop himself, hand and his gaze sliding away when it seems to become too much.

“You heard what Varania said. I wanted these. I fought for them. I feel unclean, like this magic is not only etched into my skin but has also stained my soul. And now this,” he says looking at the prone body of his old master where he lies broken and bloodied on the floor. “Let’s go. I need to get out of here.”

#dadrunkwriting #fenhawke #fenris #dragon age 2 #da2 #dragon age #orana #tales:garrett #tales:orana #houseofaustrich

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 38

Last time: Ed was super composed when talking to his crush, Granny Armstrong was here and gone before I knew it, and Selim stayed out past his bedtime. Onwards!

Riza gets back to her apartment, so shaken up over the Pride reveal that she starts at seeing eyes in the shadows, when it’s just her dog (does it have a name?). Yeesh, she has had a day, hasn’t she? The phone ringing suddenly doesn’t help her nerves, nor does Roy being cheesy and trying to pass off his mountain of flowers to her. Ocne he hears her little huff of stress he does a complete 180 and asks what’s wrong, but since we can’t know if Pride is listening she claims that she’s fine. Roy’s left standing in the phonebooth, glaring down at the silent headset in his hand. Huh, didn’t realize that Sideburns was still having to tag along with Kimblee, thought he’d stay at Briggs. Anyways, Kimblee and the Blondes have wound up at an abandoned mining town. Time to make like a cliched horror movie and split up! Two of Kimblee’s mooks are assigned to follow the Elrics. Episode 38 - “Conflict at Baschool” Now how to ditch the Mooks and the dozen other soldiers with them?

Eh. If it works, it works. They run off from the common soldiers but the Mooks are hot on their heels. Wait never mind they’re chasing them into the building too, they turn the wait what? Where did they… oh yeah, Ed’s an Earthbender. Ha! Nice job pulling up a wall that muffles Al’s heavy footsteps! Uuuunfortunately, while they’re on their own to search Baschool now, in the words of Ed “this place is too damn big”. How on earth are they supposed to find Scar and May in all of this? [Ed]: “If would make things a hell of a lot easier if Scar and that girl just came to us…” [May]: “Alphonse!” Well that was easy. Aw, she still has her huge crush on Al, he’s not helping with his talk about how they were trying to find her and he really needed to see her. Yup, she (and Shao May) are so deep in Crush Mode she can’t even hear him ask for Alkahestry lessons. Ed snaps her out of it by demanding lessons, she tries to let him down gently- wait, “let me out"? Uh oh. [Angry!May]: “Excuse me?! Who is this woman, Al? How could you do this to me?” Aw, sorry May. Don’t worry, you’ll find a guy some day. Hey, Marcoh! Hey… Yoki? Wait, has Ed actually ever met Yoki before now? Yoki sure seems to think they did… Ok, apparently this was a manga story, we’re getting a silent movie but the dialouge is in Japanese so I’ve got no idea what anyone’s saying. Apparently Yoki used to be mayor of a mining town, then Ed came in with a bunch of gold bars and… bought the title to the town? Now hold up, am I understanding that Ed Transmuted a bunch of coal to gold in order to trick Yoki into giving up the title, and then passing it on to the miners who then kicked Yoki out of town? How? Is there such a thing as temporary Transmutation? I thought the effects were always permanent? So after he got kicked out, Yoki went on to try and restore his fortunes through various trades (he failed in each one), “investing his savings” (the casino took the shirt off his back), and straight up trying to steal (from two GIANT women who could honestly give The Mighty Armstrong a run for his money in the muscles department, yikes), which led to him running into a young girl at a piano who… wait… OH MY LETO DID YOU REALLY TRY TO STEAL FROM THE ARMSTRONG MANOR?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!

After he somehow survived an Armstrong-propelled piano to the face, he ended up in the Ishvalan compound, where he would do the second-stupidest thing in his life trying to take Scar for a bounty, and he’s finally ended up here. So we’ve got a room where Yoki is ranting about his “epic vengeance”, Winry and Al are trying to calm down a heartbroken May, Ed’s still pushing for Alkahestry lessons, and Marcoh is probably wondering if he wasn’t better off with the Goths. So where’s Scar? Kimblee’s getting the news that Winry’s escaped her own minders, Sideburns volunteers to go look for her and takes command of two troops, brushing off Kimblee’s words. The Crimson Alchemist is left standing there, scowling after a proper leader. Eh, you got some good Manipulator points from last episode, but you’ve still got to make up for your pitiful train battle. Scar’s going through some cans and bottles for food when two of Kimblee’s Mooks show up and demand his surrender. What, you punks think you can take on The Killer of Alchemists? Oh! Apparently they’re chimeras, part boar and part toad respectively. Time to kick some monster butt, Scar! Mid-ep pictures of Yoki and the Chimeras (Zampano and Jerso). Yeah, I’m just gonna call you Boar and Toad. The Blondes and the Brunettes are sitting in a circle now, Ed explaining that he found out what Philosopher’s Stones are made of, and their new angle of researching Alkahestry. And what do you know, Marcoh’s got a book by someone who worked to combine the Transmutation disciplines. Ed’s not too happy to hear that they need Scar to break the code (what, you guys didn’t work on that between the cabin and this mining town?). Ah well, where is the Ishvalan, anyway? *boom* There he is! Ed and Al order the others to stay put and head his way. Toad is surprisingly fast for his bulk, dodging Scar’s HoDs and kicks while Boar launches spikes from his back. Also, Toad can spit goop. One drawback to Scar’s style, it’s entirely melee. The chimeras plan to just stick to ranged attacks to wear him down. Scar tries to run off to the side, but a spike cuts his arm and goop glues his hand to the ground. Oh no, if only there was someone on the way who could save him…

Da dada dah! Ed and Al are here to save the day! Al picks up on them being Kimblee’s goons from Central. Now, how to- “AAAAH! TALKING MONSTERS!” Hahahaha! Oh, that is priceless! Pretend to freak out over the inhuman beasts in the room that are “pretending to be your friends”, so you’ve got an excuse if they report back to Central. Toad tries to slime them but notes that Ed is faster than Scar… and grinning like a loon? Oh yeah, this is his first time fighting with his new automail, it’s lighter than the old set so he moves faster! Hits lighter though, Toad’s back up and spitting actual spit. Thanks for telling us what it is, now Ed can break it down to water and freeze your back! And throw his brother into the Toad? Oh, ouch! Metal Armor + Frozen Flesh = Bad Times. Whoop, Boar’s back up, yelling that he and Ed are on the same side. Oh yeah? Prove it! If you’re human then transform back and ahahaha! [Ed]: “Thanks for the opportunity, sucker!” Alright, one Chimera down, knock out the Toad and LETO! What the hell Al, did you just snap his neck?! Jeebus! Scar’s freed himself from the goop, good. Now we can all head back to the others and what. Ed, no. You were literally just told that you need him to decipher the journal and you’re both working against Central now, just tell him what you’ve learned and WHY. NO. YOU DO NOT NEED TO FIGHT. STOP IT. You want him to pay for what he’s done? Then get his help deciphering the journal, fix your bodies, then you can have a great big revenge brawl. Ok fine, whatever. Ed and Al charge him, you might wanna look out for the HoD or protect your arm… oh yeah, the new arm is an alloy, not steel. Just like when Ed tried disarming Buccy, Scar’s failure just means Ed’s close enough to kick him. But like his file says, when Scar’s in trouble he tends to wreck the ground, he bursts through the rubble to strike Ed- [Winry]: “Don’t hurt them!” Winry?! Ok while I appreciate the character development and the chance to confront your parents’ killer, did you leave the Brunettes? Scar’s distracted by her arrival, giving Ed and Al the chance to knock him down and secure his arm. Before she can talk to Scar though, Sideburns shows up. Hopefully Kimblee’s not too close behind. Sideburns orders “the ungodly experiments by our superiors” tied to a column (so they’re still alive?), approaches Scar wait what no don’t shoot him! We need him to break the code! Ed, Al, stop him! Winry? Hoo boy. Winry’s confronting Scar. [Winry]: “Why? Why did you kill my mother and father?” [Scar]: “...there’s nothing I can say that won’t sound like an excuse. And nothing can change the fact that I am responsible for their deaths. Wait, boom?! What? No! Ok ok, calm down, maybe this is another Ross Deception. Trick Kimblee into thinking that Scar is dead? Sparks and a flame show Buccy underground, still with the Tunnel Rescue Team and saying… uh oh. They’re over the 24 hours, and Armstrong the Great said they’d cover the entrance with concrete after that. Come on, don’t leave these guys stuck! They aren’t Alchemists, they’ll have to go back through the Pride-infested tunnel and find another way out! Well, Buccy tries knocking on the door anyways. Silence. Crap. Alright, back down- hey, it opened! It’s Tank Grandpa! Did you really defy Armstrong The Great’s orders? Nice knowing you, buddy. What do you mean, it hasn’t been 24 hours? I doubt that Buccy went on that mission with an improperly timed watch… unless he was given one, to ensure he got back on time? [Tank Grandpa]: *points to shattered pocketwatch* “It’s a nice watch, isn’t it? General Armstrong gave it to me whenever you guys left.” HA! Best General in the show by far. Sorry Grumman, you’ll have to settle for second. Armstrong the Great is hanging out on top of the fort when Buccy gives his report on two survivors. Apparently she’s outside to look at the mountains, admiring the simplicity of their black and white in the winter. Buccy must be feeling really damn confident right now because he argues that it’s not true, if she just looks up she can see the blue sky. [Buccy]: “There’s nothing that’s entirely black and white.” *MASSIVE SHIT-EATING GRIN* “And thanks for showing your soldiers a little mercy! It means a lot, sir.” [Armstrong the Great]: *smiles* “That’s nice, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

New Ship confirmed! Incoming convoy! Are Kimblee and the others coming back? Did they forget to pack lunch? Oh crap. Central’s already sent some forces to find out what happened to Raven. Explosions! Back in Baschool, Kimblee’s finally shown up to the building where everyone was fighting, sees Ed rush out through the smoke. [Ed]: “You bastard! This is all your fault Kimblee, you were supposed to be watching Winry!” Wait what? NO. Argh that’s Winry being carried by Scar no no how did he escape did May break him out why can none of these idiots just talk to each other?! Argh! Wait, hold on. There’s a bandage on his cut arm… Ha! Elaborate Ross Deception, go!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 38

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 13

I’m back! Took a little break to watch Rebellion, mostly recovered from that so I can return to watching this light-hearted tale of whimsy and hahaha no. Onwards with Brotherhood!

Episode 13 - “Beasts of Dublith” Izumi’s talking about Ed seeing “it” and surviving. Ooh, do we get info on Truth this episode? [Izumi]: “Regardless, I can’t accept the decision you made. You’re expelled.” What?! Teacher turns away, tells them to get on a train. Ed just bows and thanks her for everything. ...wow, I’d forgotten how hard this show can hit. Huh, same intro? I thought this was the halfway point of the season, don’t animes usually switch things up at this point? ...at the very least, I’d like them to change the into so I don’t have to see Hughes again at the beginning of each episode YES I’M STILL BITTER. Sig’s seeing them off at the station, saying they should drop by if they’re ever in town again. Sorry buddy, but I don’t thin- [Sig]: “You idiots! You’re so busy pouting you can’t see what your expulsion means; You aren’t her students anymore, so now you’re finally free to speak to Izumi as equals!” Oh. Ohhhh. Ok, so that was her way of ‘graduating’ them. I can see it. [Sig]: “Unless, of course, you’re too chicken to try it.” Suddenly Ed facepalms? There’s something you forgot to do? I thought the point of the trip was to visit your old Teacher. [Sig]: “Don’t let her kill you.” ...Gee, thanks for the advice. Ed gets back to the butcher shop GAH good thing Ed’s quick enough to duck knives. Izumi is not happy to see him again. But the Elric Brothers say that they’ve come looking for a way to get their bodies back, and that they are staying. A staredown commences.

Izumi… relents? Huh, I thought she would have kept this up until you stopped calling her Teacher. Time to talk about “the Truth”! Al didn’t see it, doesn’t even really know what it means. Izumi says he lost his memory from the shock… oh! Yeah, if the cost of what Ed saw was his leg, for Al to lose his entire body as the “toll”? Oh good grief you two, stop talking about how “awful” and “horrifying” it was, you’re scaring the kid. Izumi’s got a lead in an acquaintance who might be able to retrieve the memory. But first, dinner! Eavesdropper! We’ve got a Gollum taking a peek in the window, confirming that Ed can transmute human souls. Oh wow that’s a tail, is this guy part-Gecko? Back at Eastern Command, some old guy with bifocals is playing chess with Roy, expositing that he’s transferring in one week. (Subtitles say) General Grumman is giving the standard platitudes of “it won’t be the same without you”, “I got to relax thanks to your hard work”, ect ect. Hmm, noting that his glasses are consistently shiny, not a good sign. Ooh, that was a flinch, and yup, checkmate. Good job Roy! Grumman plays it off as a “going away gift”, Roy presses this charitable mood. Hello there, Master Sergeant Kain Fuery. Gotta be honest here, I’m still holding the loss of Fuhrer Fury against you, here’s hoping you can be a good enough character to overcome that bias. We’ve also got Warrant Officer Vato Falman, Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc-

No, not that Jean. And First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye as well. Seems that Roy’s added them to his own transfer, they’ll join him in Central. No objections! [Havoc]: “I’ve got a problem, sir. See, I just started dating this girl and I really like her.” [Roy]: “Dump her.” Wow. Remind me not to go to Roy for relationship advice. What is it you see in this guy again, Riza? Cut to some dude working out with a crude dumbbell. Oh hey it’s Scar! How’s it going buddy? Apparently he’s not supposed to be working out, the Ishvalan kid Rick chides him for aggravating his wounds. He opens the tent for someone else, and Scar looks shocked? [Scar]: “Master!” Ooh, a parallel episode! The Elrics and Scar working with their old teachers! I like these! Master’s talking with Scar now, saying he knows that his student’s been targeting State Alchemists. But regardless of their crimes, such vengeance will only cause further violence. Senseless revenge, feeding a fruitless cycle of death? Man this Master pulls no punches. He tells Scar to end this cycle once and for all- Suddenly two non-Ishvalans poke their heads into the tent, identify Scar and start talking about a bounty. Uh oh. Either Scar’s gonna ignore his Master, or we’ll find out why this guy is called Master even in the subtitles. Third guy is hiding behind some rubble, Ishvalan bystanders yell at Yoki for bringing bounty hunters. Man, another whiny Elric antagonist? Oh yeah, I’m sure that you’ll “rise up” and take your revenge. Total faith in you buddy. Off-topic, do you mind telling me when you plan to face them? I want to know when so I can sell tickets I mean show my support. Scar realizes that he’ll only bring more trouble, however irritating, if he stays there. Yyyyeah, you bounty hunters had no idea who you were messing with. One dismembering and face-grab later, Scar doesn’t even bother with Yoki, just dons sunglasses once more.

Master tries one more guilt-trip (“Your brother would be sad”), we get a dramatic zoom at Scar’s tattooed arm. Scar just says it’s too late to turn back now, and walks off.

Al’s sweeping outside the butcher shop when a ball of paper’s thrown at his feet. A note from Gecko-Man, Bido? Oh wow a place called “Devil’s Nest”, I’m sure it’s a quite reputable business. Some guys sniffs and jumps down to join Bido and a lady in the street, to greet Al as he walks up. A meeting? Ooh, did you guys try to blackmail Al? This can only end well. Nose-Man (Dolcetto) tries to get Al to come with them, one “Ooh, I’m just a widdle kid” act later… Uh oh! So while Dolcetto went down like a punk, Tatoo-Lady (Martel) took the advantage to get inside Al’s armor, slow him down for an older guy (Roa) to show up for a turn and wrestle the armor to the ground. [Al]: “You people aren’t human, are you?” No, really? What gave it away, the guy with a giant gecko tail? [Greed]: “Good guess! They’re Chimeras… And they happen to work for me.” Wait, Greed? Aw crap it’s another Goth! The Terminator from the intro, no less! So Al’s in some sort of basement now, Martel still keeping him controlled from inside the armor while Greed is starting some sort of pitch. So wait, how is Greed connected to the rest of the Goths? I can see he has the Uroboros tattoo on his hand like the others, but I’m getting a different vibe from him. Al asks what they really are, they can’t be Chimera’s because the only “talking Chimera” we’ve seen before was something I really don’t want to remember. Greed just says to not believe everything the government says. Martel’s part-snake, Roa was… cow? Ok. Throw in a lizard (still gonna call him gecko), a crocodile, and a dog. Man, Dolcetto’s not having a good time this episode. As for how these Human-Chimeras are possible, Greed says that they were created by the military. But he’s even more uncommon than they are: he’s a Homunculus. Wait, a Homunculus? Are you sure you’re using the right term there? I can understand Chimera, a mix of species, but my understand of Homunculi is that they’re mini-humans, basically familiars. Oh ok, so apparently the definition of a Homunculus in Brotherhood is a more general “artificially created human”. Flashback to Baby!Elrics studying alchemy, raising the point that yeah that’s Human Transmutation isn’t it? Al is really upset by this claim, saying that it’s just an unproven theory. So Greed says he’ll prove it SWEET LETO WHAT THE TRUTH ok Roa just went Thor on Greed’s skull, the corpse falls. But Al barely has time to ask what the heck that was for when the body raises a hand in a “wait a moment” gesture, and red sparks fly as Greed reforms good as new. Huh. So we’ve already know that the Goths are hard to put down (knife to the forehead), but to completely regenerate after your brain is splattered? Yeah, this is gonna be tough. So, back to why they’ve captured Al? Oh, that’s why? Sure Greed’s got a body that can recover from normally fatal injuries, but he still “dies”. Meanwhile, he’s got a moving, talking suit of armor right here! A body that never dies… Now this is really interesting, looking at two concepts of immortality: a regenerating organic form, or an unchanging metal form. Transhumanism, ho! Still, I don’t think that this is a form of “immortality” that you want, Greed. You want the finer things in life? Get yourself stuck in armor like Al, and you lose your sense of touch and taste. And you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’s willing to give those up. Greed’s pushing to know how Al got his soul in the armor, Al truthfully says that he can’t remember how and that it wasn’t him who did it. So Greed’s gonna have to talk to the original caster. [Ed]: “Now where’d a seven-foot tall suit of armor run off to?” Bido tries to make Ed pay to know where his brother is. Bido gets used to open the basement door. Al tells Ed that Greed’s a Homunculus (“Hey! Way to ruin it.”), and that he might be able to help them with their body problem. But Greed shows off his Uroboros tattoo, which he has to know that Ed recognizes. Greed says that “they don’t talk much anymore.” A falling out? Greed makes his pitch: He’ll teach them how to make a Homunculus (to transfer their souls to?), if they teach him how to transfer a soul. “Classic equivalent exchange.” EEC: 8 Finally, I get to update that count! Given how much the phrase made Tephi snicker I thought I’d be hearing it more often, best I can tell the last time was… ugh, Tucker. Moving on. Well of course you don’t understand why Al would want his body back, Greed. You don’t know the limitations. [Greed]: “You’re joking, right? You don’t need to eat, you don’t need to sleep, you don’t even need to use the toilet! Sounds great to me!” Yup. Ed’s pissed. Greed can only applaud his monologue. There you go Dolcetto, go ahead and get Worfed. But Greed puts up much more of a fight, going into the terminator mode from the intro, blocking all of Ed’s attacks as an Ultimate Shield. So Ed’s basically fighting MGR’s Armstrong, then? “Homunculus, son!” [Greed]: “Oh. You’re one of those guys. You don’t care if someone beats the crap out of you, but if someone lays a hand on a family member you completely freak out. What a waste… you lose your temper like this and you’re gonna lose my information and your brother.” But Ed thinks he still has a chance. Until Greed shows that he was holding back so he didn’t have to cover up his pretty face. Sig’s found the dropped broom, evidence that the boys have gone missing. Because Leto forbid they skip out on their chores and invoke Izumi’s wrath. A passerby says they were seen going into a bar called the Devil’s Nest. In said bar, Ed is [SUFFERING IN PAIN], literally breaking his automail on Greed and getting thrown around. But he has a plan? Oh yeah, Alchemy! He shorts out Greed’s Ultimate Shield to bust up his organic hand, Greed grows it back quickly and remarks that that was bizarre. Another attack, and stalagmites to the chest! Chemistry for the win! Since Greed told Ed that he was human, Ed knew that a third of his body was made of carbon. He figured that Greed was using that to make his shield, just rearranging the atoms. So all Ed had to do was rearrange them right back, graphite instead of diamond. Alright! Big Letodamn Hero entrance by Izumi! Who throws a mook at Ed and yells at him for not putting the broom away. [Greed]: “Oh give me a break. Don’t tell me you’re going to try and start anything, lady. It’s no fun fighting a woman.”

Time for Housewife Beatdown! *credits* ...Damn it!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 13

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 47

Last time: Winry interrupted Ed’s Sandwich Time, Pride told Al to take a nap, and Bradley got Operation Valkyrie’d. Onwards!

Narrator’s saying how Al was captured by the Goths on Promised Day Eve, and now he’s floating in the Whitespace. Probably not a good sign. A voice (Truth?) tells him to wake up- [Pride]: “It’s too soon for you to die. We aren’t done with you yet. There’s still so much work we have in store for you.” Well. This is going to be a cheerful episode, isn’t it? Episode 47 - “Emissary of Darkness” Way outside of Central there’s a ramshackle village, a bunch of people in rough clothes working the land. Wait why are you asking what the town is called Ed, are you lost? Central is like, clearly visible over the trees. Never mind then, guess this is where Beard’s been hanging out instead of Uncle’s stomping grounds. Sorry dude, but your lunch is getting interrupted by your estranged son and his- I mean, Greedling’s crew. So last time they saw each other it was over Mama Elric’s gravestone while Absentee Anime Father chided Ed for burning down the house. How’s this conversation going to OH SHIT [Beard]: “Edward, I didn’t thi-”

So Beard goes flying from, let’s be honest, a well-deserved punch. I mean we know that he’s on the side of the good guys now, but still. Absentee Anime Father has some explaining to do. Beard’s meeting his son’s new friends ([Lion/Gorilla]: “Ha, no.”), quickly identifies Greedling’s Goth nature and whoosh the Shiny Glasses are back. Eh, this is Beard we’re dealing with after all, guy can’t just give backstory without pulling up his Mysterious Shields. Later that night Beard’s finished storytime, Lion and Gorilla are sitting in shocked silence while Ed struggles with- oooh yeah. He’s spent a large chunk of his life searching for a Philosopher’s Stone to repair his and Al’s bodies, and now learning that he was raised by a “living stone”? Hell, conceived by it. Then Beard offers himself to restore his son’s bodies wat. Oh Leto thank you Ed, the young man’s yelling about how he’s not going to sacrifice innocent souls to fix something that’s their own fault. Beard’s proud to hear his son feels that way. Right, now that everyone’s caught up on the past, what’s going to happen in the future? Apparently there will be a solar eclipse tomorrow that Uncle’s going to “harness for his scheme”. What, is he going to overthrow the Fire Nation? Beard says he needs Ed’s help- [Ed]: “Help you?! Now look here, I’m gonna stop that bearded bastard, but I’m not doing it because you want me to help you! Our best chance at beating this guy is to team up, and that’s the only reason I’m even talking to you right now!” Yeesh. So Ed’s still harboring a lot of ill will towards Beard, storms off after that diatribe as the rest of Greedling’s crew heads off. Except Ed pauses oh yeah Granny asked him to pass on a message, Mama Elric’s final words: [Mama Elric]: “Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise… but I’m dying first.” Argh. And when Ed spins around to keep yelling at Beard, he sees the living Philosopher's Stone staring up at the night sky, crying. Out in the ramshackle village, Ed and the Chimeras are eating while the two men try talking him into giving Beard a chance, maybe ask why he took the Absentee Anime Father route. Ed’s still awfully bitter though, not helped by Greedling jumping into the conversation, pointing out the irony of Ed’s father being his early Quest Item. Ed says there’s more to it than that. Back at the campfire Beard’s thinking about the family picture, when Mama Elric was talking about how someday she’d grow old, that she’d be right there when he left for his Mysterious Mission. But we know how that all turned out. And it has to be said, he’s probably thinking about how he’s one of the most powerful beings in the setting. Maybe he could have healed her illness if he had stayed home? Yes at the cost of using his Philosopher’s Stone blood, but it’s still there. For now, Beard sits talking about how she stayed with him, how he wasn’t there beside- wait. [Beard]: “Tomorrow, ‘Trisha…” DEATH FLAGS WAVE WILDLY Like holy crap, the dude’s sitting by a campfire on his own the night before a big mission, looking at a photo of his dead wife and talking about how he wasn’t around. That’s… wow. Calling it now, Beard’s going to bite it. Taking all bets, I’ll bet Tephi a new book of her choice that Papa Elric will be gone inside of five episodes. The Dramatic String Music is starting up. Ed’s getting red cloth aw buddy why are you going back to your old red cloak? I liked the white outfit, you could have pulled off a good Gandalf.

See, Lion and Greedling agree with me, the Goth of Avarice even calls it flashy. But no, Ed’s all “this may be our final battle”, so he wants to do it in what he considers ‘style’. Fine, just promise no cars this time around. The Greedling Crew’s leaving? What about Beard, the Living Philosopher’s Stone you’re supposed to work with? Ed’s saying that the others can bail if they want ([Greedling]:”Hey now, I’m the boss!”). If they’re after restoring their bodies- [Gorilla]: “These bodies do have their perks. To be honest I really don’t mind staying like this.” [Greedling]: “Hahaha! Yeah, now that’s the spirit!” YES. THANK YOU. So anyway, the Chimeras are all “we’ve got nothing better to do, might as well help save the world” and Greedling’s… not telling Ed why he wants to go back to Central? Eh whatever, after his tiff with Bradley I don’t think he’s going to try and team up with the other Goths again. Wouldn’t put it past him to try and claim the title of Fuhrer in the chaos though. But even if he tries pulling that I think Ling would protest, and he’d have to deal with Roy Mustang (aka the guy who killed Lust) and Armstrong the Great. So yeah, I don’t see that happening. Lion pauses in the road, Ed looks around to see the holdup- Al! Did you get away from… oh no. No glowing red eyes? Walking out a dark, shadowy forest? Seen captured by the Goths and “worked on” by Pride? And yup Ed’s questioning how Al’s here when he was over with Sideburns in the East, and Greedling starts freaking out. Totally-Not-Possessed-Al ever so calmly says he needs to talk with Ed while the Creepy Strings start up, turns towards the forest- Ling yells at Ed to back up. Let me say that again, Ling yells at Ed to get away from the armor. Greed why are you trying to keep Ling from warning Ed? Crap shadows leaking from the armor and SHADOW SPIKES EVERYWHERE, Greedling and the Chimeras just barely dodge before they retract back to the armor, which slowly turns around to face the shocked Crew and then grows way too many eyes. We’ve seen Pride massacre Muggles in the tunnels, hold Riza hostage, chase after Uncle’s counterpart. Now we’ll see him actually fight. Mid-ep pictures of a grumpy Greed and a very unimpressed Grumman. Whaaaa? The Fuhrer’s remains haven’t turned up yet? Why wherever could they HE’S ALIVE DAMNIT. Oh hey General Grumman continues to be competent, he’s personally overseeing the search since he “won’t be able to comfortably sleep at night ‘til I see his corpse with my own eyes”. You go, trope-savvy General. But wait, what about leading the Eastern/Northern forces to Central? Uh. Hmmm. Well. Seems that General Grumman’s conniving extends to his “allies” as well. He just “has” to stay and oversee the search for the Fuhrer, meaning his troops are stuck with him. If Roy and Armstrong the Great make their move now, Bradley’s still-intact leadership (along with Uncle) will capture them. Then Grumman can step in to fill the power gap. [Grumman]: “They’ll take the fall as enemies of the state, while General Grumman will heroically come riding in on a white horse. I’ll let the youngsters dive head-first into danger and do all the dirty work. And then I’ll take my rightful place as leader of this country without any risk.” Holy shit. So Grumman is actually a conniving old schemer who plans to use the good guys to make his own power play. Not quite as bad as Raven, but damnit man I liked you. Thankfully Sideburns suspects Grumman’s motive and is withholding his trust. Back to Greedling’s Crew and Armored!Pride. Greedling confirms that it’s his “oldest brother” piloting the armor now, Pride shows off Al’s sigil. So now Ed has to fight his unconscious brother, and hold his punches so he doesn’t disrupt the sigil. This isn’t going to be easy. But at least he has backup- [Gorilla, hiding behind a tree with Lion]: “Our animal instincts are telling us to stay the hell away from that thing.” [Lion]: “It’d probably be smart for you to run too!” Well, this is the First Goth. It’s not really fair for me to expect them to fight it, even Toad and Boar kept to the sides against Envy. But Ed can still fight, and since he’s a Sacrifice then Pride can’t land any killing blows. Unfortunately Pride knows that, and that people can survive without all of their limbs… Pride’s just standing there as shadow blades strike all around the dodging Ed, who’s talking about keeping the Goth away from the slums. He Earthbends up a wall but Pride just smashes right through it and YIKES thank goodness Ling had his Ultimate Shield or he’d be dead, but Pride just latches on to his limbs and tells Ed to stand down or he’ll hurt Ling and the villagers. But Ed’s smiling? [Ed]: “I think it’s about time I start winning some of these fights for a change!” He transmutes the ground wait there are sparks heading straight toward the village OH! Well, it kinda sucks in the long-term that Ed shorted out their electric grid, but for the short term? No bright lights means… well it would mean no shadows if it wasn’t for the moon and stars. Or not? Apparently the moonlight is so weak that there aren’t any shadows near the forest anymore, all of Pride’s limbs vanish. Ed and Greedling exposit that they can’t see anything in the darkness, but Pride can’t cast without the strong light-source. What’s this about Pride’s shadow? Oh, so he’s controlling the armor by touching the armor’s shadow! Meaning that Pride’s just inside the tree-line, and Al’s armor is free from his influence. Quick, grab it! Oooh, but this means that our heroes are going to have to fight, maybe even kill an apparent child. Yeesh. Anyways, apparently the sky is “completely overcast” so that resolves the moon/star issue nicely. For now, Pride waits- Lion! Haha, looks like their noses are all better after Ed’s chemistry lesson. Holy Leto Lion is just unloading on Pride, the Goth chides him for attacking a child but Lion yells that he knows full well what Pride actually is, along with his animal instincts that are blaring “WRONG WRONG KILL IT BEFORE IT KILLS YOU”. Outside the trees Ed and Gorilla meet up, the chimera says they need to book it. But what about Al? He should be free from Pride’s control now, without shadows to manipulate it should be safe to grab the armor and run. But Gorilla urges caution. Moving along the trees they run into Greedling who’s wondering how they tracked him down LOOK OUT GLUTTONY! So just as Lion’s using his superhuman smell and sight to hunt down Pride, Gluttony’s been used for his enhanced sense of smell to track down Greedling. Who tells Gorilla to start fighting? Dude this is Gluttony, if anything you’re the best equipped to fight him seeing how Ling took the first edition down way back when. Except yeah Greedling doesn’t have the sight or smell to fight in the dark. Fight well, Gorilla! Holy Leto he’s actually fighting well, Gluttony’s getting tossed around- [Gorilla]: “Now for the final blow!” *WHAM* [Ed]: “Why, Mister Gorilla? Weren’t we sticking close to avoid attacking each other?” Ah. Never mind then. Greedling’s thinking over how Gluttony’s got the upper hand in the dark, and they’re all screwed when the lights come back on for Pride. Except ha! Like I said, Ling’s the best counter for Gluttony as he can sense the Goth and beat him once before. Let him CRAP Ling just lost an arm oh right Goth so he could regrow his limb (sorry, souls that got used up for that fix). Wait can Ling access the Ultimate Shield? Let’s come back to that, thankfully doesn’t need it right now as Ling’s fancy Xing martial arts are knocking Gluttony down. Greed even compliments him, impressive. But now Gluttony’s mad, and oh yeah he can do that whole pseudo Gate of Truth thing. Look out for the Eraser Gun! And now Ed’s the one who can’t see the danger, Ling and Gorilla can only talk ominously about “something bad coming”- Flash of someone running by? Beard finally catch up with the group and die heroically? Wait. Wait wait WAIT. Flashes of a speedy figure, metal blades that slice through Gluttony- EASTERN MUSIC STARTING UP OH LETO PLEASE TELL ME FUCK. YES. [Ling]: “I’m glad to see you’re ok. I was wondering when you’d find me, Lan-Fan.” The ninjas are back, baby! With a badass upgrade!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 47 #ranubis

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