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#how many films are there where this city turns to rubble
purplepixel · 2 months
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I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED???? BROOOOOO!!!
OMG YES ANOTHER ONE! WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABOUT IT??
I've thought about this ever since I first watched the rise movie and I've held back bc the last thing I wanted to do was accuse the rise movie being the same film as the 2012 avengers film. Both are my comfort movies. Both are different films.
BUT HAVING SAID THAT
you can not deny the similarities. If I had a nickel for every movie where--
There is an item that can open portals. At one point in the film, it gets taken by the villain.
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Main antagonist arrives through portal created by item
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Blue/Red character is in conflict with Red/Blue character. One of them is not taking things seriously and/or regularly goes off on their own.
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Blue and Red character have an argument that almost results in a physical fight
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One of the main characters aids the villain due to mind control
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Villain successfully opens portal on top of a very tall tower. Alien reinforcements
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Alien threat lays waste to New York City. Hive Mind. US Army is little to no help
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Badass hero pose against a destroyed city that signifies hope
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Red/Blue character chooses to make the sacrificial play by taking the threat through the portal knowing they won't make it out alive. But at least the world is saved. It's not about them.
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A character has to close the portal with the red/blue character trapped on the other side
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"I'm gonna die alone, floating in space"
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Everyone thinks red/blue character is dead
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Red/blue character is alive and lets everyone know they're gonna be ok with a quip
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--I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but weird it happened twice.
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mariacallous · 4 months
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At the end of January, clips from a film about the housing market in Russian-occupied Mariupol began circulating on TikTok and X (formerly Twitter). After the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Russian army held Mariupol under siege for 85 days, all the while relentlessly pummeling the city with missile and air strikes. Mariupol was effectively reduced to rubble, and no one knows how many lives were lost — though some estimates place the number as high as 100,000. As soon as the Russian authorities had captured the city, they set about rebuilding it and erasing any trace of war crimes.
The film, titled “Shocking Prices for Apartments in Mariupol — Millions for Ruins” was released in November on the YouTube channel “Mirnyie” (the plural form of “peaceful” in Russian and the first part of “peaceful inhabitants,” a Russian term used to distinguish non-combatants from military personnel in conflict zones). The Mirnyie project is led by “war correspondent” Regina Orekhova, a journalist from the Russian state news agency RIA Novosti. In 2022, she received a special award from the Russian Union of Journalists for “courage in fulfilling journalistic duty.”
The Mirnyie project, as one might surmise from its name, explores the lives of ordinary people in the conflict zone. “These are the stories of people who found themselves caught in the crossfire — some left, while others stayed. [We share] their experiences, how they survive, and what they think about,” reads the description. Judging by the channel, Orekhova primarily works in Mariupol. Previous reports of hers cover topics such as Azovstal’s underground tunnels, the sea port, city maternity hospitals, and the drama theater, which was destroyed by a Russian airstrike while an estimated 1,000 civilians were sheltering there.
In the introduction to the half-hour film, Orekhova promises to answer the following questions: “How do you buy an apartment in Mariupol? Is it more profitable to invest in ‘ruins’ that you can resell once renovated? How do you rent commercial space for a business here and how much does it cost? What kinds of apartments are for sale and what determines the price?” Orekhova explains that in Mariupol, there are “damaged buildings” as well as “brand new and renovated ones.” “The real estate market is very unconventional. We’ve studied it in detail and we’ll tell you all about it,” she promises. 
Orekhova speaks with three local realtors who show her properties for sale in different parts of the city. As it turns out, these are mostly half-destroyed apartments, hastily abandoned by residents who left all their personal belongings behind as they fled. However, even such properties, according to the realtors, are in high demand. In some cases, actual ruins, where just parts of the walls survived the bombings, are for sale. However, Russian construction companies will restore these buildings later for free, which significantly increases prices. There’s also the rare property untouched by war, or newly renovated apartments in restored buildings. Prices for these range from four to six million rubles (about $50,000-$66,000). Apartments in historic Stalin-era buildings in the center of Mariupol with surviving inner courtyards (i.e., enclosed parking), renovated entrances, and sea views are considered premium housing.
The film doesn’t explain why or, more importantly, by whom all the housing in Mariupol was destroyed. Realtors talk evasively about “all those events” or “military actions.” Orekhova asks how many real estate agencies are currently operating in Mariupol. “Well, there aren’t many surviving citizens per square meter, you could say, but they exist, of course,” a realtor answers.
Showing a damaged three-room apartment in the center of Mariupol, real estate agent Natalia remarks that “one shouldn’t focus on the consequences of what happened to the apartment but on the apartment’s potential.” There’s no electricity, the ceiling is leaking, and personal belongings, including toys and a highchair, lie strewn about — but the windows have been replaced. Natalia points out the “magnificent view” from the balcony. “These buildings have survived more than one war and, as you can see, are still standing,” Natalia says encouragingly. According to her, it would be too painful for the previous owners to come back and see their home like this, which is why they’re looking to sell the apartment in its current condition.
The realtors say that apartments are mostly bought by newcomers “from big Russia” and bemoan that locals can’t afford newly constructed housing. According to them, Russian authorities introduced a special two percent mortgage rate for people from the self-proclaimed “Donetsk People’s Republic” and “Luhansk People’s Republic” who have Russian citizenship. But locals can’t get approved because most aren’t officially employed — there are no jobs with decent salaries in Mariupol.
Luisa, the head of a real estate management company, explains that it’s virtually impossible for Mariupol residents to get an apartment without Russia’s help. She says they “can’t afford to buy back their old homes in Mariupol or to purchase new ones.” When new construction is put up where their destroyed homes used to be, the mortgage payments are out of reach. Luisa recalls how an apartment building in the center, leveled in the bombings, was cleared away to make room for new construction. Residents were offered housing somewhere on the outskirts as compensation, but they weren’t able to buy apartments in the new building being built on their property, even though they’re legally registered at the address.
Tatiana, another realtor, thinks everything in Mariupol is “getting back on track.” She says people are returning, “even those who didn’t plan to.” “The demand [for apartments] is very high, much higher than the supply,” Tatiana explains. “If an apartment is in poor condition but at a good price, it goes quickly. The interested buyers are mainly newcomers. People from Siberia are also eyeing our seaside breeze.”
Tatiana tells Orekhova that everything is “looking up” for the city:
Mariupol has never experienced such rapid growth. The city is developing before our eyes. It’s happening in such a way that even we don’t know where things will improve tomorrow, where slums will turn into upscale neighborhoods. Because our sky is blue. When I say this, everyone smiles, actually. But before, our sky used to be gray or brown, never blue. And now life is getting better; every cloud has a silver lining. You just don’t want to remember the military operations; you go numb. But when you see what’s happening in Mariupol — everything will be fine, everything will work out.
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lulu2992 · 2 years
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I crunched some numbers for ya! The wiki says Hope County is based of Great Falls, MT/Cascade County. They’ve got a population of 58,835. If Joseph wanted 3,000 people in Eden’s Gate, that would make it the fourth largest organized religious group in the county, outdone by Catholics (11.7%), Lutherans (6.2), and .3% behind Mormons. They’d be only slightly smaller than nondenominational Christians and the largest non-Christian religion by 4.9%
I crunched further numbers. If I’m doing my math right, at 3,000 members, the Project at Eden’s Gate would be the largest non-Christian religion in the entire state of Montana
I don’t remember if this is in relation to a specific post of mine but it’s interesting! Thank you for doing the math :D
Because you said that, according to the Wiki, they based Hope County on the real-life city of Great Falls, in Cascade County, and since the Far Cry Wiki contributors have a tendency to make stuff up, your message(s) inspired me to dig deeper and do some research about Hope County and its population size.
It turns out the Wiki mentions Great Falls because Ubisoft shot the very first live-action teasers for Far Cry 5 (see #1, #2, #3, and #4) near the city, according to this article. They specifically mention the third teaser and say it was shot at the Mni-Sda (also known as Minisdah or Chelsea) Presbyterian Church, and that the film crew even took this opportunity to reinforce the belfry because it needed repairs, which is pretty cool! Hope County also has an official website and it simply says it was inspired by Southwest Montana. In total, the website says there are 150,000 residents in a 21,097-square-mile area, so about 7 people per square mile (but Montana isn’t evenly populated at all so calculating an average isn’t very useful).
Nearly 59,000 people sounds a lot for Hope County, even if there are many cultists in Eden’s Gate’s bunkers (a lot of families in John’s Gate, especially), because the area we visit in Far Cry 5 isn’t densely populated and it’s also pretty small. According to my own calculations, its surface ranges between 45 and 50 km² (about 18 square miles). That said, I don’t think the in-game map covers the totality of Hope County. If I understand this correctly, in Montana, you can only be a Deputy Sheriff in your county of residence but, in the game, the Deputy’s house seemingly is nowhere to be found, and there is also no “Hudson Residence”, “Pratt Residence”, or “Whitehorse Residence”. The Sheriff’s office is located outside of the map because we fly to Joseph's compound at the beginning of the game, but I remember reading somewhere (I unfortunately don’t remember where so I’m not 100% sure about this) that a Sheriff’s office also had to be located within the county’s limits. To me, the area we can explore in the game isn’t the entire county so there could indeed be several thousands of residents in Hope County.
The Seeds already had “hundreds” of followers when they arrived, according to The Book of Joseph, but I don’t know if Eden’s Gate had 3,000 members at the beginning of the game. If they did, they probably wouldn’t have needed to harvest people during the Reaping... That said, a cultist in John’s Gate says, “Even if John brings in a thousand more souls, we'll make do. We can't pick and choose or put a limit on how many we save. Our arms must be open to all”, so it's possible that, at one point, they actually had more than 3,000 members (willing or not), which would make them an even larger religious group!
Well, at least, that was before the Deputy killed hundreds of soldiers and buried entire families under the rubbles of John’s Gate...
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preemshots · 3 years
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johnny + the nomads lore
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alright, i know this is a screenshots blog but i'm going to go ahead and start dropping some juicy lore tidbits as i dig them up. part of what i'm doing outside of just photo diarying is shard hunting, and BOY is there a lot the game likes to hide in those little shards for idiots like me who like to read so we can write unnecessarily accurate fanfiction! 
full disclosure, i know jack shit about the TTRPG/cyberpunk 2020 rulebook except what i read in the wikis. 
so here’s my lore roundup so far of everything i know about johnny joining the nomads
we know johnny likes to narrate v’s quest objectives. here’s the first mention where he says it himself: 
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during the voodoo boys quest "transmission" there's a shard in the maglev tunnels beside the ice bath, presumably from brigitte's research into johnny in the first place:
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okay, so the timeline is this: johnny joins the nomads after trying and failing to rescue alt. johnny hides out in the badlands for some years. then he and rogue come back to night city and nuke arasaka tower help alt escape the arasaka subnet by uploading liberator to their network once and for all.
this ultimately makes sense. in alt’s flashback, we meet santiago, who is a nomad/connected to nomads, joins rogue and johnny when they're trying to get alt back, and eventually becomes the leader of the aldecaldos. 
part of santiago’s TTRPG lore is that he, johnny, and rogue have to lay low in the badlands with nomads after they storm arasaka headquarters (i am aware the game takes many liberties with the original lore so who knows the full accuracy of anything from the original rulebooks)
ENDING spoilers: in the rogue+johnny storming AHQ ending, it's revealed that rogue has a son while they're prepping for the job. if you eavesdrop on her calling him while you're at the afterlife, you hear her tell her son to (paraphrasing here) "pull over and look at the stars", which immediately made my brain go to: nomad, badlands, santiago = dad? maybe. (santiago also canonically has a son according to the TTRPG lore)
this immediately reminded me of another interesting shard that i believe you can find in multiple locations around night city: “"what REALLY happened in arasaka tower?“
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i love this dang shard. at first i thought it was just a cute conspiracy with some juicy gossip (and i love how 99% of the shards that mention johnny in this game are reminding us that he's not a real rebel, he's a poser) but it brings some interesting shit together
one: it tells us where johnny got his hands on the nukes! he and the nomads jumped a militech convoy and jacked some bombs! 
which is never directly explained, even as saburo arasaka is interrogating him shortly before using soulkiller. very nice of johnny to protect his homies like that. 
...or maybe he didn’t. saburo emphasizes that the dead don’t lie like the living do, and we don’t know what exactly arasaka did to johnny’s construct in mikoshi. 
it also explains why the obvious media narrative is that militech nuked arasaka, a nice neat political bow to the end of the fourth corpo wars, which is an entire section of the TTRPG lore that makes my eyes cross when i read it. 
it also makes the star/nomads ending extremely interesting, because i originally believed it was the ending where V’s journey deviates the most from rewalking johnny’s path... which also has weird implications if the johnny’s nomad era is being kept from v. 
(this also leads into my belief that the star ending/the devil ending are narratively two sides of the same coin, but that’s a WHOLE ANOTHER POST for another day.)
TWO, just straight up the fact that they turned the raid where they actually obtained the nukes into an action flick BD that pretty much ANYONE could watch. who the hell was doing that?? 
well, who else other than the guy who johnny (optionally) punched the shit out of for filming alt's death: thompson, media guy, and according to rogue, “bad luck”. because you know, recording your crimes is straight up evidence that can be used against you.
during the alt flashback we meet thompson, and just after that in cyberspace before meeting alt, johnny tells v that he has no idea what happened to him and that they never worked together again. 
oh, johnny, you lying bastard man
this is blatantly untrue, and if V even had two braincells and better memory than a goldfish they'd know this--in the first flashback sequence where johnny and rogue nuke arasaka tower, thompson is on the comms as they ride the AV towards AHQ, questioning their plans and use of violence. 
which leaves me with some questions, like where the fuck is thompson, why does johnny keep lying about this, why doesn't johnny say almost anything about how you interact with the aldecaldo clan nonstop throughout the game when he himself may have been a member of the family for some time?? is he continuing to protect the nomad clan that saved his ass? we know that a lot of his flashbacks are unreliable at best, that johnny changes shit up as desired when presenting V with his memories.
in 2077, you can also find that there’s a remake of “badlands raid” in the shard “new release braindances” that is pretty much everywhere. that shard doesn’t add much, but does mention something along the lines of “many people don’t know the ending of the original” which probably means johnny punched thompson out for filming again, or something. 
my running theories: rogue ditched santiago and the aldecaldos with johnny and thompson to nuke arasaka tower, and when johnny died she was stuck looking for (heavily implied by johnny here:) corpo sellout ways to survive.
adam smasher obviously has something to do with this since johnny/rogue's vendetta against the guy isn't entirely clear beyond the smokescreen of "he killed johnny and he sucks". i have done 0 research into this though i'm tired of typing okay
i obviously cannot be certain i have found everything related to this in the game as i’m not even done with this playthrough where i’m trying to pay attention, but i hope this is fun for someone else to dig into. 
enjoy, fellow silverhand freaks
EDIT: additional findings
ALRIGHT I HAVE DONE MORE DIGGING AND I AM BACK WITH MORE NOMAD/JOHNNY FINDINGS. these ones are kind of a bummer but VERY interesting.
there’s a shard called “excerpts from a history of the nomads by bb pires” that goes into detail about how nomads came to be
there’s an interesting quote in it: It's hard to imagine a group less inclined to wandering than farmers, but in fact they were the ones who sparked the age of nomads. Natural catastrophes, crops ravaged by bioplagues, armed conflicts and martial law allowing corporations to speculate and privatize land - all this forced them into a life on the road.
when you ask johnny why he wants to take down arasaka, he begins by referencing this himself!!
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it’s a little awkward to imagine a nomad V doesn’t also know what he’s referencing, but hey, V is the fool because we are as players and that’s only one life path... so sure.
johnny also has unique dialogue during this scene about a nomad origin V, telling them that he’s been trying to understand how V thinks, and came to the conclusion that “their family was a crutch” and essentially made them stupid because they always had a safety net (lmao johnny calling v privileged basically)
BUT this also may reference why johnny would find it confusing as hell that V doesn’t immediately share the views he does when nomads, in terms of values, seem to be more aligned with johnny than V is. but once again V is the fool for a reason and this is all my own speculation so YOU KNOW.
MORE IMPORTANTLY, at the end of chippin’ in, when you ask johnny what he meant by letting down his friends... santiago is named directly
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i thought this was interesting since the only glimpse of their relationship that we get is seeing johnny meeting santiago via the alt flashback for the first time.
so now it’s obvious that while johnny and rogue were with the nomads their friendship developed, and johnny went on to disappoint santiago in some way by being his normal dickhead self
but HOW? how did he disappoint santiago? is santiago even still alive?? did smasher kill santiago and is this why rogue mentions during chippin’ in that she wants smasher to “settle a score” moreso than avenge johnny??
the only additional hints i have are from this shard, which you can find at the aldecaldos camp: “nomads at ground zero”
i’m just gonna transcribe here and bold for emphasis:
It was no secret that Night Corp offered generous pay and, in some cases, free cyberware and biomonitor upgrades to anyone willing to help clean up the crater of radioactive rubble at AHQ ground zero. Some firsthand accounts recall the incessant ticking of Geiger counters, like the loud buzz of cicadas in summer. In retrospect, we can only guess how many "crater cleaners" lost their lives to radiation sickness shortly thereafter. Both the city government and Night Corp have claimed casualties were kept to a minimum, while providing no official statistics to substantiate the claim. That being said, they have never been under pressure to release such figures. After all, most rescue, engineering, and rubble cleanup teams were not local Night Citizens, but nomads. Surprised you didn't know? Don't be. It is a fact many history courses tend to overlook. The city employed hundreds of nomad mercenaries, primarily from clans in Aldecaldo nation. These nomads were hungry for gainful work and the city needed experts who were not only experienced but brave enough to knowingly put their lives on the line - all so Arasaka could one day erect another tower in its place. But history is not without its sense of irony. These nomads, who so deliberately live outside our so-called "system," came to its very rescue. Not for the first time. And not for the last.
a main theme we find in this game is the idea that the system of corps and exploitation cannot be stopped by grandiose rebellious gestures--no amount of samurai songs, assassinating mayors, or even planting nukes in towers will change things. yet johnny, his friends and mercs at atlantis in the 2020s, including rogue, chose to rebel any way they could, thinking it better than not. johnny criticizes her lack of rebellious spirit CONSTANTLY in 2077.
but ultimately, johnny, trapped in mikoshi, didn’t get to see the outcome of what detonating the AHQ nukes did to night city’s fragile ecosystem. rogue, however, did--and likely watched their former allies, the aldecaldos, be forced to take dangerous work at AHQ’s ground zero (from lack of other opportunities as detailed in this shard), then die from radiation sickness throughout the following decades, all as a result of what she and johnny did to try and fight the system. and she also watched all the former mercenaries of atlantis be hunted down by arasaka.
so rogue sees firsthand what the cost of rebellion is and johnny doesn’t. and nomads, considered the most free of any of the factions we encounter in the game, are the cost.
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nickjunesource · 3 years
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Full article below.
Max Minghella is sitting in his backyard in the LA sunshine, his t-shirt an homage to the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve, his adopted shepherd mix, Rhye, excited by the approach of a package courier.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks — the dog, not me — tenderly.
Minghella, who at 35 has dozens of screen credits to his name, is best known as The Handmaid’s Tale’s cunning chauffeur Nick Blaine, a character who it’s difficult to imagine saying sweetheart. In airless Gilead, of course, a cautious hand graze with Elisabeth Moss’ June can pass for a big romantic gesture. In a Season 1 episode featuring child separation and hospital infant abduction, Nick’s major contribution is to trade stolen glances with a sex slave while “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” pumps discordantly along. I ask Minghella about playing the series’ closest approximation to a dreamy male lead against the show’s dark narrative of female subjugation.
“I know this is not the answer you want to hear,” Minghella says with none of Nick’s hesitation. “But I like that stuff, right? In the pilot, I think Nick only had a handful of lines. It wasn't clear that this is what the character would turn into. And it's quite fortunate for me personally, because I'm not a massively sort of intellectual person in my real life. I love Fifty Shades of Grey. That's like my Star Wars. It suits me to play a character like him.”
Minghella surmises that this enduring romanticism is an outcome of nurture. His father, the late British director Anthony Minghella, made grand romantic dramas like Cold Mountain and The English Patient. And there was the young, cinema-mad Max sitting on the living room sofa, absorbing everything. “It’s taken me a long time to understand this,” he says of his prolonged childhood exposure to love stories. “My dad made The English Patient when I was 10. So it was two years of watching the dailies to that movie and then watching 50 cuts of it. And then [The Talented Mr.] Ripley he made when I was 13, and it was the same thing.” These were an adolescent Max Minghella’s alternative to reruns. “I think they did shape my perspective on the world in a lot of ways, specifically The English Patient. That was a complicated love story, and I wonder sometimes how much it's affected my psychology.”
Some sons rebel; others resemble. Minghella’s co-star O-T Fagbenle, who plays June’s other lover from before the time of Gilead, got his first job acting in Anthony Minghella’s romantic crime film Breaking and Entering. “Anthony is one the kindest, most beautiful men that I've ever had the privilege of working with before,” Fagbenle says. “And Max has his gorgeous, sensitive, open-minded soul.”
Though Minghella spent his childhood on the set of The Talented Mr. Ripley, playing an uncredited Confederate soldier role in Cold Mountain, and tooling around with a Super-8 camera Matt Damon gave him, he insists his upbringing was normal. He grew up in South Hill Park overlooking Hampstead Heath in London with his father and mother, the choreographer Carolyn Choa. (Minghella also has a half-sister, Hannah Minghella, who is now a film executive.) Yes, technically, it was London, but that’s not how it seemed. “I feel like I grew up in a very small town. Every school I went to was in Hampstead. I was born in Hampstead,” Minghella says of the small map dot of his life before university. “When I went to New York, I felt I was going to the big city.”
Despite his illustrious surname, movie-watching was far from restricted to the classics. “Beverly Hills Cop is definitely the movie I remember having an unhealthy obsession with. I think I saw it when I was 5 for the first time, and I'd watch it just two or three times a day for years. I'm just obsessed with it.”
Plenty of actors can trace their love of movies back to a love of stories, but for Minghella the relationship seems to flow in reverse. When he left for Columbia University, Minghella opted to study history for its connection, through storytelling, to film. It was during the summers between his years of college that he started taking acting more seriously. Before his graduation, he’d already appeared in Syriana, starring Damon and George Clooney. Soon, he’d make a splash as Divya Narendra in The Social Network in 2010 and be cast in Clooney’s Ides of March. As all young actors eventually must, Minghella moved to Los Angeles.
It’s been over a decade since he last lived on the Heath, but, perhaps unusually for a person who’s chosen his profession, Minghella is adamantly not a “shapeshifter,” in his words. Home for Christmas this year, he started sifting through old journals stored at his mother’s house, “just like scraps of writing from when I was extremely young up through my teenage years,” before coming to America. “It was hilarious to me,” Minghella says of staring at his childhood reflection. “My review of a movie at 7 years old is pretty much what my review of a movie at 35 will be. My taste hasn't changed much. And when I sort of love something, I do tend to continue to love it.”
Which brings us back to his enduring love of romance, born of his bloodline, which is all over Minghella’s own 2018 directorial debut. Teen Spirit is a hazily lit film about a teenage girl from the Isle of Wight — the remote British island where Max’s father Anthony was born — who enters a local X-Factor-style singing competition. (It stars Minghella’s rumored girlfriend of several years, Elle Fanning.) The story is small, but its crescendos are epic.
Minghella calls the movie — an ode to the power of the pop anthem — “embarrassingly Max.” Max loves a good music-driven movie trailer — he’s watched the one for Top Gun: Maverick “many” times. And Max loves the rhythmic beats of sports movies like Friday Night Lights. Max loves movies with excesses of female energy, like Spring Breakers. He likens Teen Spirit to an experiment, his answer to the question, “Can I take all these things that I love and find a structure that can hold them?” The result is a touching “hodgepodge” of Minghella’s fascinations, inspired by the songs from another thing he loves: Robyn’s 2010 album Body Talk (itself a dance-pop meditation on love).
Minghella hasn’t directed any films since, but he sees now how making movies fits his personality — organized, impatient — more organically than starring in them does. Directing also helped him to appreciate that acting is “much harder than I was giving it credit for,” which, in turn, has made him like it more. Besides The Handmaid’s Tale currently airing on Hulu, Minghella appears in Spiral, the ninth installment in the Saw horror franchise and, from where I’m sitting, at least, a departure.
“I do like horror movies, but the thing that was really kind of magical is that I was feeling so nostalgic, right? We talked about Beverly Hills Cop earlier. I was just missing a certain kind of movie,” Minghella explains of his new role as Chris Rock’s detective partner. He was yearning for simple story-telling, like in the buddy cop movies of his youth, especially 48 Hours. It almost goes without saying that a buddy cop movie is another kind of love story. “And then I read the script and it was very much in that vein.” He clarifies: “I mean, it's also extremely Saw. It's very much a horror movie.”
His renewed excitement for acting translated onto The Handmaid’s Tale set, too. Veteran Hollywood producer Warren Littlefield describes casting Minghella in the role of Nick as an effortless choice: “Sometimes you agonize over things. [Casting Minghella] was instantly clear to me, and everyone agreed.” Now in its fourth season, the tone of the Hulu hit is graver than ever. Gilead is more desperate to maintain its rule, and so more audacious in its violence. Perhaps it’s fitting that the show’s romantic gestures finally match that scale.
In one particularly soaring moment, Elisabeth Moss’ June and Minghella’s Nick meet at the center of a bridge and crush into a long kiss. It’s been two seasons since they held their newborn daughter together, and it’s hard to see how this isn’t their last goodbye. Littlefield, like Minghella, is here for the romance among the rubble. “It's spectacular when they come together. In the middle of all of the trauma is this epic love story,” he says. “Max is just magnificent in the role.”
For Minghella, the satisfaction is more personal. He works with good people, he likes his scenes, and he thinks Nick is a complex character. Minghella read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time in college in 2005. Like all the things Minghella has ever liked, he still likes it. He’s as proud of this most recent season as he is the show’s first. And he watched Nick and June race recklessly back to each other across the expanse of the screen exactly how you might expect. “I watched it like a fan girl.”
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lanland04moure · 3 years
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미안해 •| ᶜʰᵒᶤ ʸᵉᵒⁿʲᵘⁿ |• [ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁵ ] αlтєяηαтινє ƒιηαl
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Very long text, the end of a series
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we тaĸe ιт ғroм нere;
The door burst open giving way to the rushing sounds caused by the boys entering the room. I took a seat on the bed and they were all there.
Taehyun was the first to speak.
—They've found them. They've been put to safety.— He paused unnecessarily, should I celebrate? You were safe now.
—Yeonjun was not with them.— Soobin's words broke my heart again.
•×•
I woke up, not sure what was going on, without moving I managed to look around, the building collapsed on top of us. Could we die here, would they find us?
I have no idea how much time has passed or if they are even looking for us. I try to stand up. But a great pain in my left shoulder stops me.
It hurts a lot.
I don't remember where I am in the building and it's killing me that I left those girls alone and now we are in this situation. I try again, this time slower. Pain travels up and down my back but this time I don't stop.
I glance around again and remember that it was just that that got me into this mess.
A column. A column was what kept me from being crushed to death. I see no way out, everything is collapsed, I'm trapped.
I need to get out, I need to get out of here, I need you.
I move around the place looking for a way out. There must be a way, there must be a way out.
Please wait, I'm on my way to you.
•×•
We left the apartment immersed in a silence that was not normal for us. Especially the guys.
We were all willing to check on our own if it was true that you were not among those who were rescued.
Because if it was true, if you were not there, where were you? Where did you go?
I needed to convince the rescuers to look some more.
Please hang in there!
The rescue teams are already leaving the site by the time we arrive. It's over for them. They found most of the victims, that's all that matters to them.
For them the testimonies of these girls who claim that you saved them were not enough. I see them crying, I see them begging you to continue the search. They cry for you, they are worried about you. And that's enough for me to take their word for it.
But they don't really care.
They insist, they claim that you are there, they claim that it was you who saved their lives.
Where are you Choi Yeonjun?
I don't want to give you up for lost. I don't want to think that I have lost you. I don't want to get the idea that I lost you.
If they don't look for you, I will. I'm going to get you out of there.
I made sure that no one was watching me, that everyone was distracted so I could sneak through the concrete debris. Not far from where I was entering, the television stations were interviewing the rescued women.
A group of trainees and stylists from the agency.
They asked them the same questions, made them repeat their story over and over again. But they still didn't believe a word of it.
But I do, I really believe them.
My heart knows they are not lying. Whatever happens I will rescue you.
"He was there, I can swear it. He was the one who saved our lives".
"He saved us, he was willing to give his life for ours."
"I owe him my life, that's why I refuse to end the search. He is out there somewhere."
Once upstairs I heard my name being called. I didn't turn around though. Nothing would stop me. I would get to you.
But Kai's screams were getting louder and louder. Which would draw attention. I had to be quick, I had to keep them from reaching me.
—Noona what are you doing? Noona you're going to hurt yourself!— Seeing that I wasn't going to stop Heuning carefully climbed up after me. All the while wailing.—My hyungs are going to be upset.—
—Noona is going to get hurt, but she doesn't care.—
—Soobin Hyung is going to lose his mind when he notices Noona is gone.— Lost in his words we made it to the top of that huge concrete mountain, there were so many places to start looking.
You could be anywhere. They swear you helped them so we have to find you.
We can't give up.
We split up and started moving and searching through the rocks. We will find you, don't worry.
After about 20 minutes a distant scream caught my attention.
They were calling me, was it you? I stood still with the intention of listening clearly. But it wasn't you and it wasn't just me they were looking for.
The boys had already noticed our absence.
I tried to ignore them, tried to silence them in my mind. But I found it impossible the boys were insistent and I knew Kai wouldn't ignore them.
—Min where are you?—
—Heuningkai where did you go?—
—Hyuka!!!—
—Min!!!—
I still continued my search. If the rescuers quit, we wouldn't. At least I haven't
—Huyng!!! Hyung!!!—
—Heuning damn it! What are you doing up there?—Beomgyu's shout echoed through the place.
—I went up following Noona.—
—What?!!! MIN IS UP THERE?!!!—The unmistakable voice of Soobin reached my ears. After his shout all was silence again.
I continued my search, the concrete pieces were heavy, too heavy to tell the truth. But it didn't matter because I just wanted to get to your side.
I felt in my heart something that told me we were close. We were close to you. I leaned down again to move another rock when something abruptly brought me back to my full height.
—Are you crazy? What do you think you can do up here alone? You're only going to hurt yourself!—he was clearly angry and about to lose his mind.
•×•
I was worried about you, how ironic isn't it? I'm the one at risk of being buried to death, but I still can't be selfish, I can't think only of myself. Every minute here I was flooded with worry about how you were doing.
The more time passed, the more it became a torture to keep my eyes open for long periods of time. I was resigned to the fact that I would never get out of here.
Time seemed to move so slowly that it made me think about the probability that maybe I was already dead, but it was not possible, how did I know?
Because of the pain. I once heard that it was pain that made us human or something like that. Because of that and the immense pain that spread through my body I knew I was still alive.
But what I wasn't sure yet was if I would still be alive to remind you how much I love you.
What did we do to deserve this, is it some kind of lesson to make you value what you have and those who are with you, is it some kind of punishment? Thousands of questions come to me in the moment, but so does your image.
Your smile.
It was your smile that made me fix my eyes on you, did I ever tell you that?
Your smile was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and of course it still is. That was the first time I saw you.
It was right after our debut.
Soobin was very tired and looked sick, but he wouldn't admit it. One day just like that you appeared in our practice room, carrying some lunch boxes with you.
Beomgyu immediately stood up to help you and Soobin pulled you to him in a tight embrace. His face and yours glowed with happiness as you were in each other's arms.    And something stirred inside me.
It turned out that you brought some snacks for everyone, soobin bragged that you were the best cook. I can't deny it, your food was delicious.
Remembering that day I had an immense craving for that rich food that was your favorite, something typical of your city. Some time later it became mine too.
  •×•
One by one each of the boys came up behind us.
Soobin was still upset, but I knew he would help us, he would support us. We would find you, we would.
We basically split into groups so we could move the rocks. About 20 minutes passed and there was definitely no trace of you.
Come on Jun, you can't do this to us.
Time went by and little by little more people joined our search. The girls you rescued, agency staff. Even MOA was coming from different parts of the city to help us find you, we all wanted you back.
The authorities were completely opposed to what we were doing, because there was a possibility that someone would suffer some kind of injury. But we didn't care.
More MOA's slowly arrived to help. Girls who had taken a train, or taken a plane ride to help find their idol. I would love for you to see the love everyone is showing you right now.
Why wouldn't we let you, wouldn't we.
The newsreels were all about filming us. They were broadcasting us for hours, broadcasting as much as they could of our search work.
In the headline you could clearly read ;
THEY ARE THOSE WHO STILL HAVE HOPE
And boy, did we have hope.
No one was giving up. We are fighting for you. Hours went by, endless hours in the sun. And now I was really losing hope. We had moved tons of debris and nothing to show for it.
Should we resign ourselves?
I took a moment. A moment to admire all these people who took the risk of joining our search. What will happen will happen. Whether we found you or not, I was going to be eternally grateful for it. Maybe it was time to take a break. Or maybe it was time to give up and stop.
The sun was killing me.
The heat was intense and the glint of something was burning in my eyes. I covered them for a moment, it was bugging me.
Where was it coming from?
I slowly withdrew my hand and looked around for it. I couldn't believe it. It had to be. It had to be. It was your watch.
Your watch was barely peeking through the rubble.
—It's here, it's here."—
•×•
The more time passed the stronger the pressure I felt.
My heart ached so much, I ached so much from how much I missed you and the fear I felt about leaving you alone. I was desperate to get out. To come back to you.
My body slowly stopped responding, maybe because I was tired. Maybe because of the hunger I felt or maybe because of how damaged and hurt it was.
And just now that he was so close to freedom. It was a matter of minutes, a matter of moving a few more rocks. But it was impossible, I reached my limit. I saw the light, I saw the light of my freedom but everything went black.
I wish I could turn back time and not fight with you. Or failing that take Soobin's advice and stay with you the whole day.
•×•
Taehyun ran beside me as soon as he heard my screams.
We had finally found you!
In a matter of seconds there were dozens of hands moving and throwing the rocks in the area where you were. All treading cautiously but in a hurry to get you out of there as soon as possible.
I'm not going to lie to you. I was praying to God that you would be okay, that he wouldn't take you away from me. When we finally managed to get you out of that place, the paramedics snatched you from our arms.
They did not allow us to see you, they immediately transferred you to the nearest hospital, they had to make sure you were okay, that you were not hurt in any way.
I don't know how long we spent in the waiting room of that hospital, they didn't allow us to see you, they didn't want to give us any report.
We didn't know anything.
Was it so serious?
Doctors came in and out of your room non-stop, but they kept ignoring our pleas for information, it got to the point where they forbade the nurses to come near us.
And just like that, one day when we were still waiting for some details about your health condition, this girl came up to us.
It was a nurse, she asked me to accompany her, without hesitation I went after her.
She would take me to you.
You had woken up, after a week, you had woken up and the first thing you did was to ask for me.
•×•
I woke up once again.
I was alone and without further ado I began to remember everything I had experienced being trapped in the building.
A nurse came into the room, not once did she look at me.
—Park Min, I need to see Park Min.— The nurse left the room without giving me a word or even a small glance. Time marched on, but nothing was happening.
Or so I thought, because within seconds after my thought the door to the room opened again.
But this time it showed me someone totally different. This time it was your beautiful eyes peering out from the other side of that door.
You crept in. Neither of us uttered a word. Then you threw yourself weakly onto the gurney crying and with what little strength I had I clung to you even tighter.
I was afraid that we would be separated again. And now we would not be able to find our way back like this time.
—All the time I was so worried about you.—
—Why? It was you who was stuck in that place, you should have left that for us. I was so scared I'd never see you again, that we'd get separated like that after that stupid fight.—
—I was worried about getting to leave you alone, I knew you'd be scared and I was so mad at me for turning down that dinner the other night.—
—That's in the past, let's try to forget about it. We're here together now.—
—Please never forget how much I love you.—
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architectuul · 3 years
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The Story Of  The Abandoned Car Factory Pragovka
Prague is a city of postcard-perfect architecture: from immaculate works of Gothic beauty – like St. Vitus Cathedral and the 13th century Old New Synagogue in Josefov – to the statue-lined Charles Bridge, or the monumental neo-Renaissance building of the National Museum looking out across Wenceslas Square. It is not a city that most would associate with industrial decay, however Prague’s former palaces of industry are no less grand, even while history is in the process of burying them.
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The Praga Car Factory Pragovka. | Photo via E-Factory.cz
The Praga Car Factory Pragovka on the city’s eastern edge was once the beating heart of the Czechoslovak manufacturing industry. It played a significant role in the city’s 20th century history, but it was here at the Prague’s darkest days was set into motion. In 1968 workers at Pragovka sent a letter to the Soviet Embassy requesting support in the fight against liberalisation. This letter, published in Pravda, would then be used as justification for the Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia.
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The Praga Car Factory today. | Photo Katka Havlíková
Pragovka is abandoned since the turn of the 21st century and is now a sprawling ruin, its extravagant factory halls succumbing slowly to time and nature. In 2017 I went to explore what was left of it. The Car Factory was founded in 1907 as a manufacturing site in the eastern suburbs of Prague, with just 30 employees. Two years later, its parent company adopted the name ‘Praga’ – the car brand used the Latin form of the city’s name in the hope of sounding more international. During WWI the Praga factory (then known as the First Czech-Moravian Machine Factory) supplied the Austro-Hungarian army; then after 1918 and the independence of Czechoslovakia, it began to focus more on passenger cars.
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The main hall of the Pragovka factory in 2017. | Photo Katka Havlíková
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The large, angled windows allowed plenty of natural light to enter, reducing electricity costs. | Photo Katka Havlíková
In 1927 Praga was incorporated into the new ČKD (Českomoravská Kolben-Daněk) group, one of the largest engineering companies in Czechoslovakia. Among other vehicles (including tanks, locomotives, tractors, motorcycles and metro cars), ČKD produced cars under the Praga, Škoda and Tatra brands, and was famous for making the Tatra T3 tramcar – a design which would sell almost 14,000 units, and become an iconic sight on the streets of socialist cities from Sarajevo to Tashkent. Meanwhile as many as half of the taxis on Prague’s streets had rolled out of this factory.
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Left: Cover of a 1962 sales brochure from Strojexport, featuring the Tatra T3 tramcar. Right: Vintage poster featuring the Tatra T77.
In recent years, the Pragovka complex has been recognised as a heritage site and some of its spaces have been developed into an arts district. There is a retro-themed ‘Pragovka Cafe,’ and the place hosts film screenings, concerts and festivals. Reportedly as many as a hundred local artists have studios now on the former factory grounds, while the large E-Factory building has been converted into a gallery space. 
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Some outer buildings still remain, linked by covered walkways. Other buildings have been bulldozed. | Photo Katka Havlíková
There’s talk of building apartments here too in future, a trendy new community rising up amidst the industrial decay. A large part of the complex remains off-limits for now though – and it was here that we entered. During the visit of Prague was fortunate enough to be offered a tour of its best ruins the local photographer Katka Havlíková. 
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Raised gas pipes above an overgrown courtyard. | Photo Katka Havlíková
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The factory has been abandoned long enough for creepers and graffiti to cover many of its surfaces. | Photo Katka Havlíková
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Katka picks a careful path through the debris-field, towards the first of the factory’s grand production halls. | Photo Katka Havlíková
She led us around the back of the factory where we scrambled up a slope of rubble to reach a promontory at the corner of the former yard. Ahead of us lay a sea of green. Thick vegetation hid the concrete courtyard, with only the occasional street light, rising like drowning hands from water, to suggest that anything unnatural lay beneath. The main buildings, those still standing, were just visible through the trees and so we cut a path down through the overgrown wreckage towards the old factory halls.
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The largest of Pragovka’s manufacturing halls looks no less grand today with its full-height windows. | Photo Katka Havlíková
After poking around in a few of the outer buildings that rise now out of bushes and debris, we made it finally to the main manufacturing halls of Pragovka. It was strange to see a building this grand left to ruin. The complex was built back in a time when factories and power plants were temples of the people – places of pride, not merely function, their spaces defined with grand architectural flourishes. This main hall could have been a train station, not a car factory. Natural light illuminated the hall from floor-to-ceiling windows (much of their glass still intact), while pillars supported an arched ceiling high above.
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Nature creeps into Pragovka – vines find a way inside through broken window, letterboxes, or any other breach in the outer wall. | Photo Katka Havlíková
We didn’t see the new arts district at all – a fact indicative of just how large this complex was – but it was hard to imagine how any small business or community project could successfully take over a space like this. The factory halls were beautiful, but built on such a scale that maintenance and repairs would be an extraordinary burden, particularly after all these years of decline. 
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Two levels of offices lined the wall. | Photo Katka Havlíková
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A staircase connects floors inside the main building. | Photo Katka Havlíková
The seeming inevitability of this factory’s ruin cast a melancholy mood over the few hours we spent wandering the halls of Pragovka. Right now, like this, with the warm sun slicing in sideways through the dirty glass windows, and the greenery of nature’s scouts – along with bursts of bright graffiti – lending fresh colour to the otherwise muted palette of pastel-painted walls and pillars: Pragovka might never look this good again.
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Old ledgers amongst broken glass in the courtyard.| Photo Katka Havlíková
When Pragovka falls, much of its history will be buried with it; and perhaps for some, that might be for the best. Pragovka is remembered not only as the heart of the Czechoslovak manufacturing industry, but it is also a place where the communists made their stand – forever linking these buildings with a historic victory for the pro-Soviet movement. In 1968 the Soviet Union and its allies led an overnight invasion of Czechoslovakia – to suppress the Prague Spring, a growing liberalisation movement under First Secretary Alexander Dubček. Although history remembers the event as an act of totalitarian foreign aggression, that invasion was not, in fact, universally unwelcome. 
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A wall has collapsed to reveal the stairwell inside. | Photo Katka Havlíková
Numerous workers’ unions in Czechoslovakia supported Soviet intervention in their country, and one of the key triggers of the invasion was a letter of invitation, that was written here, at the Praga Car Factory. In 1971 the Czechoslovak journalist Josef Maxa authored A Year is Eight Months, which recounts the events of the Prague Spring and leading up to the invasion. “Moscow’s Pravda published a letter from ninety-nine workers in the Pragovka factory in Prague to the Soviet Embassy,” he wrote. “The letter denounced the Czechoslovakian enemies of socialism and of the Soviet Union.” That document was known as the “Letter of the Ninety-nine Praguers,” and it warned the Soviet Embassy how: “the manifestations of the democratisation of society in our republic threaten the building of socialism and in so doing, attack the blood-hardened friendship between the Czech and Soviet peoples” (as paraphrased by Martin Půlpán). 
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Rooftop above one of the manufacturing halls.| Photo Katka Havlíková
The letter claimed that all honest citizens of Czechoslovakia felt safer in the presence of Soviet and Warsaw Pact troops occupying their country. When Pravda printed the letter, on 30 July 1968, along with all ninety-nine signatures, the document would be used as justification for the swift invasion that followed in August. The incoming normalisation government that subsequently took charge of Czechoslovakia would valorise the authors of that letter – raising a memorial plaque at the main entrance to Pragovka, that read: “In the revolutionary tradition of this great workers’ nation, a letter with ninety-nine signatures was sent to the USSR in the critical year of 1968, requesting support and assistance in fighting anti-socialist forces.”
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A bright and airy side room near the main factory floor. | Photo Katka Havlíková
Nowadays that plaque is long gone. The gates of Pragovka stand barred, and the halls where the letter was written are lost to a maze of rubble, weeds and graffiti. The factory’s decline today is an inevitability – it is a temple to a lost industry, a relic displaced from its time and no longer fit for purpose in the new industrial landscape of the Czech Republic. 
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The wall in a former office space. | Photo Katka Havlíková
Though Pragovka’s political history likely doesn’t help to endear these halls to the citizens of contemporary Prague – and it’s hard not to read some level of symbolism as this celebrated factory, once enshrined like a victorious battlefield in Czechoslovakia’s communist historiography, is slowly carved up, and crushed, by the oncoming future.
--
by Darmon Richter
[adapted with permission from an article at Ex Utopia]
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A Loki TVA / Lokane fic that snatched a tempad. Rating T.
Previously: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (of 6)
Shine a Light, part 4
This time around, he feels but the faintest glimmer of surprise as he steps out of the doorway and onto a busy sidewalk in Midtown Manhattan.
A few people stop dead in their tracks when the door materializes out of thin air, but the throng of commuters headed to and from Central Station is so dense, Loki’s appearance goes mainly unnoticed.
Dull resignation washes over him.
The tempad is officially broken. Its coordinates locked onto this little planet where, in his own timeline, he has known nothing but defeat.
Without bothering to look for a newsstand, he reasons there’s a strong probability it’s the year 2014. It would seem the damn gadget is slowly counting backwards, while refusing to take him anywhere else in the universe.
Above his head, a billboard flashing on the side of a high-rise building confirms his suspicions.
Incredibly though, the tempad still not out of “juice”. The battery life seems to be making a mockery of his failed attempts to direct the itinerary.
Taking a step out of the moving sea of people, Loki sees little in way of construction sites along the street.
On his timeline, this would have been two years after his attack on the city with Thanos’ army, but if that ‘highlight’ of Loki’s less than acclaimed villainous career took place in this reality as well, the mortals have effectively tidied up after him.
He tries not think of the countless faces frozen in terror that had looked up at him.
Of the lives lost because of his crazed ambition to prove himself - and to destroy something of Thor’s.
Almost if Loki had been transformed back into the chronically jealous five-year-old child who once stole his golden, annoyingly joyful, perfect brother’s favorite model toy - a grey wolf made of clay - and deliberately let it roll down the steps of the throne when their father (his NON-father) had been away.
The toy had broken into pieces and Thor had been inconsolable. Gripped by immediate remorse despite his initial intent, Loki had tried to fix it with his budging magic powers. Only for the wolf to melt to a sticky puddle on the stone floor.
Thor had wailed so loudly, a passing servant had thought him seriously injured and called for their mother, and Loki had been made to apologize, his usually pale cheeks burning scarlet. Then he had been grounded for the remains of the day.
The humiliation had stung, and so had the regret that his magic had failed him.
Not for the first time, the anger had turned, unwarranted (Loki knew then too), towards his brother.
From then on, it had just gotten slowly worse and worse and more malicious right up until that horrible moment of rage no more than a few days ago (a week?), when Loki had driven one of his daggers into Thor’s side on top of the Stark tower.
And twisted it.
The mix of bottomless sadness and shock in his brother’s blue eyes had cut through Loki’s heart with such force he might as well have sunk the blade of his other weapon into his own chest.
But instead of abandoning his pathetic scramble for power and hold Thor, instead of attempting to heal the wound with his magic that has become so formidable in adulthood, Loki had let the poison drown the remains of his sanity.
Of course, shortly afterward, the green monstrosity had effortlessly and repeatedly smashed him into the concrete floor of Stark’s living-quarters until Loki had thought he heard every bone in his supposedly immortal (right!) body break and his skull crack open.
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To the outside, it had surely been a suitably entertaining show of retribution, but as he had lain there in the crater of rubble, unable to utter a moan, it was as if all the anger had been knocked out of him.
The link to Thanos’ ungodly servant had been severed and Loki had felt more like himself than he had in a long, long time.
When Thor, looking grimmer than ever, had dragged him to his feet in front of the ragtag band of ‘heroes’ and cuffed him, Loki had found himself strangely elated, on the verge of giddy.
His legs had been so shaky from the beating that Thor had had to hold him by the arm so he wouldn’t fall, and Loki had felt the heat of his brother’s huge hand penetrate the many layers of his own armour.
For a few delirious seconds, Loki had wanted nothing more than to lean against his brother’s strong frame and just close his eyes.
Instead, he had started cracking jokes until Thor had slapped the muzzle on him, as if he were some dog (that gesture had embarrassed him more than anything that had gone before). Unable to keep up his sarcastic commentary as they rode the elevator down, Loki had fleetingly wondered if he was suffering from a psychosis or actual brain damage.
Now, standing on the street so close to where it happened, the memory oozes fresh guilt.
But he redeemed himself.
In his mind, Loki goes through the TVA reel once more to remind himself of the images of his brother later in life, smiling at him.
Right before the end came.
If he is to spend the rest of eternity on Midgard - or at least until the multiverse crumbles - he will try to find solace in the good his future self managed to accomplish.
For Thor and, in another, brighter reality, for her.
The riddle of her part in his life now remains unsolved, but as hard as Loki tries to release the ghost wrapped in his arms, it merely squeezes itself closer to his chest.
He could try to find her here, on this timeline.
She will be with Thor, that much is certain, but since the reel of Loki’s fate had shown him only his own path, he knows not whether Thor and Jane shared a life on Midgard, or somewhere else, up until the brothers reunited (for lack of a better word) on Asgard.
What would Loki even say to her?
That, while at the bureau that controls all space and time, he saw her face on a roll of film of his supposed life, and now he aches for her more than anything? That on an alternate timeline a few hours ago, she kissed him?
Thor would not approve of that exchange.
Also, with Loki’s luck, Thor might be a frog in this reality.
He could still try to use the tempad to transport him to Svartalfheim and his own life’s story, seeing as he is now only year from where he feels so strongly he must go.
But finding the proper timeline is like shooting an arrow into the endless vastness of space and hoping it’ll hit the right comet.
He realizes that now.
An arrow.
Somehow, somewhere, on two timelines no less, variants of him had …
Loki’s head jerks up.
The tower.
It’s a desperate idea at best, but from the (very) little Loki knows of his character, Stark’s superior technical skills go hand in hand with an endlessly hungry, inquisitive mind. And pride.
Much like Loki, Stark is a man who needs to be the smartest man in the room. And like Loki, he probably is, most of time (in fact… no. Don’t go there).
Maybe Stark will listen.
Perhaps he can even help make sense of the tempad if Loki can somehow win his trust and appeal to his curiosity and (he winces a little) heroism.
Was it not Loki’s actions who had helped Stark “realize his best potential”, as his TVA file put it?
He spots the imposing structure further up the street, noticing the huge “A” at the top (is that new?), and sets off towards it at a brisk pace, darting in and out of the crowds on the packed sidewalk.
Here goes nothing.
As he reaches the large glass doors he briefly experiences a dizzying deja-vu, when suddenly a man’s voice calls out to him.
A frighteningly familiar, agitated voice.
… With a particular brand of anger bubbling underneath, that Loki had hoped he’d never have to witness up close ever again.
//
“What the hell are you doing here??”
His dark, curly hair has a few more streaks of silver. The checkered shirt is slightly crumbled, the glasses a bit askew. He clutches an armful of papers to his chest.
And he’s wearing a furious expression although, thank the Norns, a mortal complexion.
For now.
“Didn’t Tony explicitly tell you not to come here?! Are you that intent on causing everyone to lose their shit again?!”
Worry is all over Doctor Banner’s screwed up face.
“Seriously, Loki, is this funny to you? Clint is actually in the building right now and, in case Tony didn’t already inform you, he’s made it very clear that he’s quitting the team if you were to stroll through the front door!”
The Avenger has started shaking, his eyes wild (too wild).
This is heading in the wrong direction fast.
Mustering all the calm in the world despite his racing pulse and the nauseating sounds of bones breaking echoing in his head, Loki puts on his most courteous and, he dearly hopes, un-cocky charming smile.
“Bruce, please relax. I assure you, I’m not here to cause trouble. Not for you or anyone else.”
“Right, you just happened to be in town and wanted to stop by for coffee? Loki, this …”
Loki gently interrupts him.
“I merely came here to have a conversation with S- … Tony. Perhaps you could let him know I’m here? I promise you, I will not set foot inside. In fact - “
Loki adopts the form of one of the security guards he can see pacing inside the foyer.
“… I’m not even here.”
Bruce jumps a little and clutches his papers even tighter.
“Oh god, I hate when you do that, man. If you think showing off that trick makes anyone any less nervous around you…”
“Doctor Banner - Bruce. I have something …”
Loki searches for the words, quickly trying to decide on how much to reveal to the man-beast who’s now looking at him with urgent expectancy.
He sighs and bets it all.
“Okay. Bruce, what I’m going to say will sound mad.”
The man scoffs.
“Coming from you, I’d expect nothing less.”
Bruce shakes his head and looks to the sky in exasperation.
“Please - please - don’t tell me you’ve gone and changed your mind about the whole not conquering Earth business. Really, Loki, none of us understand how transforming you into ‘an asset’ became Tony’s pet project over this past year, or why Fury went along with it. But I’m sure both are going to be pretty damn disappointed if their new alien BFF decides to embrace his inner psycho again.”
Loki almost chuckles. It’s all too ridiculous.
“I won’t … embrace my inner ‘psycho’, I swear.”
“Then what?”
The God of Mischief draws in a deep breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Or rather, the security guard’s nose.
Then he surrenders to the absurdity of the situation.
“Bruce, I kindly beg of you, is Tony here? Or … (is there hope?) Thor?”
Bruce still looks at him with deep disdain, but his immediate anger seems to have subsided.
“No, Tony’s out of town. Took Pepper somewhere on holiday. They’re not to be disturbed for at least a week. Her words. And Thor … I should think you of all people know perfectly well why he’s not likely to hang around at the time being. Jeez, you guys and your endless family soap opera … I can’t even.”
Naturally, the universe again blankly refuses to extend any hands to Loki and his doomed quest. Sadly, once again, he is not surprised.
Wait - what?
“What do you mean, ‘soap opera’?”
Bruce looks like he’s about to throw his hands over his head and all the papers with them.
“Oh, come on! What is this?! You want approval? Confirmation of your little victory? Doesn’t the very lovely embodiment of that currently walk around in your apartment or wherever it is you live now? Loki, I’m done here. You have to leave. Bye.”
To hell with Stark – Loki wants to grab Bruce by his shirt collar and shake the little man till he explains what in all of Yggdrasil he’s talking about.
But he cannot afford to tempt the beast. Quite literally.
“Then … can you and I go somewhere to talk? Bruce, you’re a man of science. This is science … related.”
Loki feigns a smile.
Bruce sizes him up. No doubt considering whether to let the other guy continue the conversation.
Then his shoulders drop.
“Okay. Okay. For a creepy megalomaniac, you somehow tend to end up with some very cool people defending your case. Just know that those people are absolutely the only reason, you and I are still talking. Ugh, I’m too nice … “
Bruce casts a glance over his shoulder into the foyer, appearing to consider their options, when a man exits the glass doors – and shuffles up to them.
“Bruce! How nice to see you. You look well.”
The old man (those eyes …) grins warmly and pats Bruce on the back, then looks from him to Loki and back again.
“Everything alright out here? Is there a security issue?”
Bruce composes himself and smiles back.
“Hi, Lee, good to see you too. All fine. Earl here was just updating me on, eh, the new security procedures.”
He shoots Loki a stern look.
“Ah, yes”, Loki nods seriously. “Doctor Banner had some trouble operating the intricate open and close mechanism of the doors. The elevator doors, especially.”
He can’t help himself. It’s somehow both immensely tragic and life-affirming.
“Oh?” The old man raises an eyebrow (he looks … but he’s not quite …something is off).
“Will I have to get a new security card? I rarely come in these days, but in case …”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary, Lee. Because, because … like you say, you’re hardly ever here, so …”
Still smiling awkwardly, Bruce waves a dismissive hand, almost dropping the stack of papers (the man’s a terrible liar, Loki thinks).
“Speaking of”, Banner continues, “you must be enjoying retirement up there, huh, Lee? Must be nice to live by the sea. Good … air quality?”
Loki sighs inwardly.
The dog sniffing at his ankles looks up at him.
He stares down at the round, fluffy thing as if seeing it for the first time.
Which he is and he isn’t.
The old man is saying something to Bruce about the countryside, when he notices the dog wagging its tail at Loki’s feet.
“Oh, he likes you. You’re lucky, he normally doesn’t care for strangers. No, you don’t, do you Fenris”, the man coos.
Under coats of thick white fur, the animal looks eagerly from owner to Loki.
“Okay, well, I’ll be off,” the old man says, finally. “Come see me sometime, Bruce. My neighbor actually just put his house on the market, in case you’re looking for a weekend retreat…”
He nods at Bruce, then at Loki who barely notices. The dog whines unhappily at being dragged away.
It’s the same timeline.
Of course, it is. The tempad has locked itself on a sequence.
But why the different locations …?
“Yes, thank you, Lee. Take care now. Earl, shall we?” Bruce signals to Loki to follow him round the side of the building.
“We can continue our discussion about the security issue in the garage”.
//
“So, let’s hear it. Tell me what you came to say, so I can tell you why it’s a catastrophically bad idea.”
Bruce sits himself across the small table from Loki and dumps the stack of papers in front of him. The top sheet is covered in coffee mug rings.
They are in an anonymous, windowless office somewhere below the vast tower parking lot and numerous in-house repair shops.
The place is a gigantic maze and Loki has just shut himself in a tiny room with the very monster that turned him into ragdoll. The deep slash on his forehead has only just healed.
He does not fear many beings in the universe, but the mild-mannered doctor’s alter ego makes the hit list with the worst of them.
Ignoring the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up (why did this seem like a good idea?), Loki drops his disguise and takes a seat on the cheap plastic chair. Not much of that flashy Stark glamour down here.
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“Okay.” Loki takes out the tempad and puts it in the middle of the table.
He is not quite sure where to start, so he decides to begin with the purely technical aspect.
Bruce might appreciate being given a few ‘scientific’ details before any mentions of giant smoke monsters and alligators.
In fact, the fewer magical creatures and castles in the sky, the better.
“This is called a tempad. It’s a device that makes it possible to travel anywhere in time. You type in your destination, and a doorway opens. I did not make it myself. It was, er, given to me by a large and very powerful organization … in space.”
Bruce is leaning forward to get a better look at the tempad but makes no attempt to reach for it.
As he’s says nothing, Loki continues.
“This is where it gets, uh, weird, but try to believe me when I tell you, I’m not the Loki you know. I’m from another, similar timeline and -“
“Stop.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just stop, Loki.”
Bruce is leaning back on his chair again. He looks tired.
“I don’t know if you’re supremely bored of domestic bliss already, or just being your supremely annoying self, but I won’t engage. You’re not Loki but a time-traveler from space? Yeah, it’s -“
“No, Bruce, I am Loki. Trust me, I know this seems -“
“Trust? You wanna talk about trust again?” Bruce takes out his phone.
“Okay, we can do that.”
He taps a few buttons, then holds the phone to his ear.
“What are you doing?” Loki’s voice has a sharper edge to it than he intended.
The Avenger stares him down.
“Oh, I’m just calling someone. This guy I have in my contacts under God of Lies”.
Please, no …
Briefly, Loki considers whether another variant of him – the one he encountered at the house by the ocean, most likely – would actually be of more help.
Or if he, the variant, would try to kill him.
It was one thing reasoning with and trying not to get killed by Loki variants who at least understood the concept of variants, but how would he have reacted upon being confronted with a twin before the TVA?
No, not a twin … Because this variant has her.
None of the variants in the Void – the grown-up, human ones – had mentioned versions of her.
Either this variant has successfully taken out every Minute Man ever sent by the TVA to arrest him (in which case, Loki concedes, he may be the superior Loki), or this whole timeline has only just blossomed at the opening of the multiverse.
Why else would he, who apparently also gave his phone number to Bruce Banner, get to live a life so vastly different from the typical arc of a misguided Jotun prince?
Loki feels light-headed.
On one hand, he wants to know everything there is to know about his double, on the other, he fears what and who he might find.
You don’t belong here. Find your own timeline. No more Lokis.
Focus. Explain.
He raises his one hand in a placating gesture.
“Give me a little time to try and explain this, Bruce, and then, then … You can call whoever. Call everyone! But please just -“
“Oh, what do you know,” Bruce puts his phone down, “there’s no answer. What a surprise.”
He crosses his arms.
Loki inhales and tries again, speaking as evenly and as calmly as he can while his frustration mounts:
“There is no way of telling you all or any of this without it sounding utterly ludicrous, so you’ll have to hear me out. Five minutes uninterrupted from now, okay? Yes, we’re talking time travel, but compared to what’s really at stake, even time travel is a pretty basic technicality. Also, I promise you, in a few years’ time from now, the concept of time travel won’t seem all that laughable to you and Stark in particular. Provided this reality exists in a few years’ time seeing as -“
Bruce sighs dramatically.
“Yes, okay, so”, Loki continues, “Two years ago, I attacked New York, right?”
“If you’re about to roll out some outlandish excuse – another one! – I don’t care to hear it.”
The other man is narrowing his eyes as a fresh look of undistilled loathing creeps into his features.
So it did happen on this timeline as well.
“No, it’s not that. Or, I mean, let’s save that. When you captured me, in my timeline, I escaped from the lobby with the Infinity stone. I know it seems impossible from your end of events but - “
“Impossible?”
Bruce gives him a strange look Loki can’t quite interpret.
“Yes, S… Tony dropped the briefcase with the Infinity stone, and I picked it up and -“
Bruce pushes his chair back. The plastic scrapes loudly against the stone tiles of the floor.
“Loki, I can’t. I thought I had the patience to at least indulge you but turns out I don’t. I can’t tell if you’re losing your mind, but either way, you’ll have to take it – this, whatever it is – up with Tony instead when he gets back. Maybe bring that sweet lab partner of yours along if you’re going to talk time travel. With her field of expertise, I’m sure - “
“WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!”
Without thinking, Loki slams both his hands into the table. Papers go flying and Bruce staggers backwards.
Horror dawns as Loki realizes his error, but it’s already too late.
Bruce doubles over in spasms and a deep, much too deep, growling sound escapes his lips. He grips his head with his shaking hands as if trying to contain the explosion within, and Loki feels his own brain go numb with panic as one of those hands triples in size and a sickly green hue rapidly spreads.
There is no way out.
Bruce is blocking the door and soon his bulk will be taking up the entire room. He falls to his knees, arms thrashing wildly and his shirt ripping across his back. The table sails over Loki’s head, one of the chairs lodges itself in the soundproofed ceiling, causing the panels of fluorescent light to flicker madly.
Are there no security cameras?!
There are screams, but they no longer sound human.
Loki has nowhere to hide.
He has to gather his magic around him, but terror is completely scattering his focus, cold sweat breaking out all over his body.
It is a matter of seconds before the transformation will be complete and the monster attempts to tear him limb from limb. With no heroes to stop it.
Cold.
He has only consciously reached for it once before, but now the thought barely registers before ice rushes through him as if by instinct. Bruce is not the only one with an abomination lurking under the surface.
He doesn’t have the casket of his birth father, but he has strength.
There is no time to consider if it’s enough or nothing at all. No time for crippling self-loathing or shame.
In front of him, the Hulk lifts its crazed, bloodshot eyes to meet his.
The green creature cannot stand upright in the office, and the first fist goes through the ceiling with the force of a wrecking ball. The next lashes out at Loki, who dodges it just as his own skin turns a deep, brilliant blue.
Little black ridges and markings rise on his arms and face and though his sight doesn’t falter, he feels the instant his eyes go from green to bright red. The fabric of his clothes chafes his new skin and waves of adrenaline surge through his body. Multiple foreign senses come alive and drown his fear.
But he has not a breath to spare to get used to his true form before the Hulk shoves him against the wall so hard, the bricks shift against his side as if they were made of a child’s building blocks.
The impact makes him gasp for air, yet the pain … the pain he can manage.
He just has to last long enough get out of here. And the cold is crystalizing his focus to let the magic flow easily, powerfully through his hands.
His blue hands.
If he had used this when …
Loki pushes himself off the wall (out of it) and almost collides with the Hulk (there’s no space left to maneuver in) who, instead of smashing its way out, seems hell-bent on squashing the only living thing in its line of sight first.
Loki swiftly crouches down on one knee, puts his palms together and, faster than the blink of a brilliant crimson eye, conjures a rotating orb of ice and chaos energy that explodes in a blinding flash of white light as he hurls it square into the monster’s chest.
The Hulk falls back, breaking through the wall to the parking lot on the other side and crashing into a row of cars, while a sheath of ice spreads from its chest and up its neck. The being that is not Bruce howls and claws at its skin, but the smooth ice thickens and as it reaches the head of the beast, it slides right into its eye sockets – and momentarily blinds it.
It will probably only last seconds but it’s all Loki needs while the Hulk shakes its head furiously.
He makes to flee when he spots the tempad on the cracked floor.
He can’t leave it.
As Loki dives for the gadget, the Hulk simultaneously knocks itself in the face with both fists, splintering the ice into a rain of tiny spikes. With a roar to match the sound of a spaceship engine taking off, the creature lunges.
Loki’s fingers close around the tempad.
He feels a buzz.
The door appears in front of him.
He doesn’t stop to think before throwing himself through it.
The Hulk punches into empty air.
Part 5
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lillianofliterature · 4 years
Text
quick thinking | obi-wan kenobi x reader
a/n: based on day eight of fictober! i’m sort of trying to just quickly spit these out so I have a sort-of consistent fictober schedule every couple of days but I keep adding unnecessary plots that make me write more. xD This idea isn’t based on any episode or film, it’s just something I scrounged up for the prompt. It’s meant to leave you questioning where they are, what happened to this place, and what they were supposed to find (with no answers, hehe).
DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.
fanfic or original work: fanfic
fandom: star wars (prequels)
prompt: (#8) “I am not doing that again.”
warnings: clumsy obi is the cutest obi
word count: 2.5k
music: Can I Feed Him? By Ludwig Goransson
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The remains of the ancient temple you had been sent to explore crumbled beneath the soles of your boots as you trekked carefully up the worn steps of what was once the front courtyard. Your footsteps echoed with your partner’s, Obi-Wan Kenobi, as he followed closely behind you up the loose slope of debris. Your gaze swept over the ruins as you crossed over the dilapidated threshold, a slumped pile of crumbling stones that were once towering walls of breathtaking architecture.
You hadn’t been sure why the council had asked you to come here, or what they thought so intriguing or necessary about whatever it was they hoped you might find.
“What do they expect us to find here?” You asked, wiping the sweat from your brow. The warm climate of this jungle planet was far different from the bustling chill of Coruscant’s industrial city.
“They didn’t specify, exactly. Master Yoda said we would know when we found it.”
“Well, that’s characteristically vague,” you muttered.
Your feet led you both in different directions as you surveyed the structure and admired the leery beauty of crippled history. There was something left behind here, something serene and melancholic that tugged at your soul – your perceived skill of Sense Echo was keenly tuned into this place. You heard conversations, lessons, and music; just bits and fragments of things that had taken place. It felt similar to your home in the Jedi temple. There were forgotten memories of many childhoods lingering around you.
In one large opening that appeared to have once been a great hall of some sort, you could sense a resonant touch of calm indifference. There was no violence, no anger, not a single trace of malice – and yet, the end of their echoes was abrupt, as if they had been wiped from the surface.
The place had been abandoned, so it seemed.
However, no matter how much you felt around you, you were careful not to attach yourself to the emotions of your findings. This had all happened decades ago, perhaps even centuries. Whatever had happened here was over and done with.
“Sense anything yet?” Obi-Wan asked. His eyes landed on your somber silhouette as you carried yourself carefully through the rubble, gently placing your fingers upon the cracked stones and overgrown foliation.
“This was once a place of peace and celebration filled with many people, a good portion of them children,” your eyes considered the collapsing temple around you and the great room you both stood in, and Obi-Wan saw as your turned abruptly as if watching someone run past you, “But something drew them away from here. I can sense their numbers and hear their instruments, their lessons. I can see their valuables; red satin pillows, tassled table cloths, a long table full of spices and warm broth,”
“There is great peace here, great wisdom…it almost feels like home, back in the Jedi temple with the younglings. But then everything goes blank. I can’t tell who they were or what their purpose was. It may have been a civil dispute between tribes or an assault that drove them away, but I sense no violence or anger. It’s sort of faded out like a patchy signal.”
“Maybe they were Jedi,” he remarked. There was a subtle smile tugging at his lips as he caught your gaze. He was always astounded by your gift of psychometry and knew just how valuable the knowledge you derived from it was.
“Or simple nomads,” you offered, “I think I would be able to tell if they were Jedi. Surely there would be something left we could recognize, something stronger that I could sense.”
“I’ll go this way and see if I can find anything. Have your comlink ready,” Obi-Wan called over. He clicked his handheld device on and waited as you did the same. You turned the small dial with him to match their frequencies. When they chirped in unison, he turned to scout elsewhere with a nod.
You continued your observation as you made your way to the front of the great hall where a crumbling set of steps led up to a small podium of sorts – it was hard to tell from what was left, but it appeared to be a stage or a platform. Kneeling down to feel the cool stone, you noticed the etched carvings inflicted by chisels. They were markings of another language, delicate shapes and phonics weaving a prayer you did not recognize.
Standing upright and dusting your hands against your tucked trousers, you glanced in the direction Obi-Wan had headed off to before turning yourself about to explore the opposite corridor. When you crossed the edge of the western halls, you were met with a wall of dense jungle. Nothing remained of the old temple, save a declining slope of stones that were once tall-reaching walls.
The buzzing of insects and the croaking of frogs just beyond the darkening expanse of foliage added to the soothing charm of this old abandoned place. It felt like a moment memorialized in time, shrouded in memory and happenstance no one would ever know about. Even with your ability to glimpse the past through echoes, there was nothing here to draw from.
And this was yet another possibility of your gift – the finding of something there and nothing here. Of course, it was impossible to see everything. You were always left wondering and craving a little more, which was one thing many psychometric force users struggled with. Balance was absolutely necessary to be able to let go of unattainable knowledge. You felt the disappointment tug at your heart.
Something about this place felt like it knew you, as though what was left of this crumbling little world was staring right back at you. Some small part of you felt as though you had a right to know its well-kept secrets. It was just a sensation you had to put far from your mind. You would learn whatever was meant for your mind to know, however much or little that may be.
Just as you finished your sweep of the area, Obi-Wan’s voice crackled through your comlink. “I think I found something worth looking into,” his tone was a mix of amused relief.
“What is it?”
“It appears to be a meditation room from what I can tell. The floor’s collapsed, so our path is blocked, but I can make out the meditation stones – the flat ones, similar to those in the temple gardens in Coruscant - and what looks like some cargo they may have left behind.”
“Has it been there long?”
“It’s not new, if that’s what you’re asking,” he sassed. You could hear his smirk from the other end of the transmission. It pulled your lips into a smile.
“Alright, I’m on my way,” you decided, turning yourself about to trace his steps into the eastern corridors. There was a pause in your conversation as you trekked across the crumbled great hall and neared the path Obi-Wan had found himself on. You suspected he was attempting to find a way across in his silence.
The echo of his voice in real-time that reverberated in the still air accompanied his voice through your comlink, which meant you were drawing nearer to him with every step. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing but old rocks and a lot of jungle. I did find some carvings in the main hall we came from, but that was it.”
Obi-Wan turned to face you as he heard your voice close enough behind him to switch his comlink off. He stood on the ledge of what was left of the ground floor. Standing beside him, you could see clearly the damage that the eastern wing of the temple had taken on with age. It had held together a little better than your end had, but it was greatly broken-down.
There were four tall walls that had crumbled slightly in each middle portion, dipping lower into themselves. The ground floor – the one you needed to reach the other room – had fallen in on itself and gave way to the room a dozen or more feet beneath it, which appeared to be the only underground shelter. You hadn’t noticed any other access points to a lower floor. Peering over the edge, you decided it was too far down to make a comfortable landing, nor was there any reason to. The walls on the other side were too tall to climb up on your own.
The wide gap between rooms was one you couldn’t make without help, despite both of your abilities as Jedi. Nearer to the assumed meditation room was a dilapidated stone staircase that had dissolved back into the ground with a coating of slippery moss. Unless you wanted to chance the durability of crumbling stone paired with little grip on your soles, you opted to avoid that option.
“Any ideas?” Obi-Wan asked. He crossed his arms and stroked his young beard with his hand, a habit you had seen repeated throughout his life. You couldn’t suppress the admiring grin that grew across your features before you looked away to conceal your blush. He was adorable.
You purposefully focused your mind on answering his question and found yourself calculating the distance of the walls to your sides. As if reading your thoughts, Obi-Wan intervened.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t trust these walls to hold our weight.”
You huffed with an agreeing nod. Scaling them wasn’t an option either. With your hands on your hips, you walked behind him and to his left, pacing slightly as you studied your surroundings a second time.
Above you towered a canopy of thick trees, you noticed, which were knotted with thick vines and winding branches. Obi-Wan’s eyes were still trained on the drop below, wondering if it was possible to withstand the drop and possible cave-in. Getting across on a sturdier surface would be optimal, but then there was the steep wall to climb.
The igniting of your saber drew his attention to you immediately, drawing his hand away from his chin. He stood motionless as he watched you pull your arm back and twirl your blade in your hand, straining your eyes to focus in on something above you. When he followed your line of sight and found the tangled patchwork of vines suspended high above the both of you, he realized you were taking aim.
Before he could stutter out an inquiry, you thrust your saber upward as though it were a metal dagger, slicing through the canopy of vegetation and loosing its green limbs to sway within reach above your heads. He watched even still as you slowly pulled your arm back to call the saber back into your hand, balancing its momentum. When the hilt landed perfectly in your outstretched palm, the blade extinguished.
With one boot forward, you reached over the edge far enough to latch your fingers around one of the slippery vines and wound it around your wrist. You tugged on it with your full weight and found that it had decent buoyancy to it. When you turned to face Obi-Wan, you found his expression slowly change from shocked to impressed. It stroked the ego you weren’t supposed to have.
“There, problem solved,” you remarked.
His eyes trailed up to one of several vines that now hung from the trees. He shook his head slightly, lowering his arms to his sides. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”
You simply chuckled in response and took several steps back with the thick vine in tow. Hiking your leg up to grip the vine with your boot, you jumped in place a few times to build your momentum. Without so much as a ‘see you on the other side’ you propelled yourself forward and swung across the wide gap, landing gracefully on the edge of the other room. Obi-Wan’s eyes had followed you the whole way.
Releasing the vine, you found that it left behind a yellow slime between your fingers. Wiping the residue against your robes, you called across the expanse to Obi-Wan. “Be careful of the vines! They’re coated with slime! It’s a little slippery!”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” he retorted, already having a generous portion of the unsavory gel lathered across his hands from testing one of the vines. You watched as he pulled on it with his full weight – not the same one you had used, evidently – and it slipped through the branches and fell to the room below. You tucked in your smile to hide the amusement you felt.
Averting your gaze before your laughter gave you away, you turned your back to him and began investigating the flat stones a few feet behind you. You were still wiping away the slime that coated the palms of your hands.
Finally, after two failed attempts, he had found one that was still wound up tight in the canopy of vegetation above him. He wound it around his wrist and once around his calf after stepping back. When pushed himself over the edge, he felt the vine slip every-so-slightly and released an uncertain cry from his lips.
Just as you turned around to see the commotion, a flash of beige filled your vision before you felt his body collide with yours. The impact flattened you both against the cracked stone floor in a groaning heap of tangled robes and discomfort. When you raised your head, you found that the mass on top of you bore a familiar face.
He groaned as he raised his head, blinking away the whiplash that rattled his skull. "I am not doing that again," he asserted.
“Trying to get a little close today, are we, Obi?” you jested, ruffling the light auburn tendrils that had tickled your neck when he raised his head. His narrowing eyes told you never to speak of this moment in front of his young padawan – or anyone else, for that matter.
“The vines were far less secure than you made it look.”
He slowly peeled himself off of you, careful not to place his hands anywhere inappropriate. When he stood to his full height, he stretched out his hand. You took it eagerly and allowed him to pull you up.
“You should have used the same one I did!”
“You didn’t give me a chance to catch it before throwing it back! I lost track of it!”
“Just admit it, Obi, it was all a ruse.”
“To bruise myself? I don’t think so, I’d much rather return to the ship in one piece.”
“You just can’t stand being apart from me, that’s all,” you chuckled, finding amusement in his reddening cheeks. When he visibly fought the blushing smile that tempted his lips, you knew you weren’t too far from the truth.
No, of course he hadn’t meant to pick the wrong vine and send himself bumbling into you, but it was obvious neither of you minded the close proximity all that much.
“Let’s get back on task, shall we?”
“Of course,” you purposefully bumped shoulders with him as you turned about the room, “if only my partner would stop flirting with me long enough to get something accomplished.”
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tags: @tessaem
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winterbanner · 3 years
Text
Mercy (Bruce Banner/OFC)
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Summary: Bruce is upset after a mission goes awry. Can Catherine's words help him to see himself in the way that she does? Takes place six months after the first avengers film. 
Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/ Comfort
Word Count: 2687
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rated PG-13
Pairing: Bruce Banner x OFC (Catherine King, former SHIELD agent gone rogue, now a member of the Avengers.) Her name is only mentioned twice, so just ignore it of you’re looking for a self-insert) 
It wasn’t easy being an Avenger, but today felt especially taxing. The battle wasn’t necessarily harder than others, it was the civilians that made the experience all the more horrific. They were everywhere, scattered throughout the streets, sprinting in a panic to find cover, to save themselves from the cataclysmic destruction. We tried to direct them all to safety, and for the most part we were successful, but there were only seven of us and hundreds upon hundreds of them.
When it’s your job to save lives it becomes difficult to focus on the positives, to think about the ones you saved, to consider how many lives would have been lost if you were not present. It is impossible to celebrate a victory, when the dead bodies of innocent civilians, bloodied and lying under the rubble, products of a conflict in which you were involved, are imprinted in your mind. It haunts all of us, but perhaps no one more than Dr. Banner.
I saw it happen, a young couple, was attempting to run into a department store for cover. Hand in hand they attempted to dodge the flying debris, while avoiding the menacing robotic soldiers that flooded the streets. 
Hulk was there, doing his duty smashingly, taking cars, and large chunks of metal, and throwing them at our adversaries, leaving them as nothing more than a pile of wires. The decision had been made to keep Hulk off the field as much as possible, for Bruce’s sake mostly, but also in the hopes of lessening the inevitable damage. There were times, however, when his strength was needed. For those occasions we taught him to avoid civilians, and the effort was made. Oftentimes you could find him gently careening around a group of huddled innocents, stepping between them and whatever destructive chaos we found ourselves faced with. This time however, he made a mistake, and when Hulk makes a mistake, the consequences can be gruesome. 
He heaved a car, vaulting it over his head at a group of enemy soldiers, but in the midst of our enemies stood the young couple, and as the car came crashing down, they were crushed. The young woman was left barely alive, screaming for her partner, who could be found a few feet away, his head crushed under the fender. Her outcries of pain and grief echoed through the streets, and over the sounds of metal clanging and weapon blasting, piercing our ears, with guilt and shame.
It wasn’t Bruce’s fault. He had no control over what precautions the Hulk did or didn't take, but despite his genius, that concept was something he couldn’t seem to comprehend. Bruce can see what happens during the time he spends as the other guy, he can see the destruction and death, just as much as any of us can, the only difference is that he can’t choose to run away, to duck for cover, to defend rather than attack. He has no control.
It was getting late, our wounds had been tended to, and we were beginning to settle down for the night. For many of us that didn’t necessarily mean sleep, it meant going onto our prospective floors to process the day's events. I, however, wasn’t planning on heading up to my quarters just yet, I wanted to check in on Bruce. I knew for a fact he hadn’t eaten, and I could also guess the toll that the day’s events must’ve taken on his mental state.
As I stepped out of the sleek silver elevator, I could see Bruce out on his balcony, staring down at the destruction from hours before. It was cold outside, and he still hadn’t changed out of the ripped up clothes he scrounged up from the battlefield. His curls were still dirty and his hands were shaky as they clung to his opposing forearms, squeezing himself tightly. He had been crying, the evidence found in the redness of his eyes and the wetness of his cheeks. I grabbed a blanket that laid haphazardly on a nearby chair, and approached the terrace, food in hand.
“Hey,” I whispered, in an attempt not to startle him.
He jumped, before turning around to see who exactly the voice was coming from. When he saw that it was me, I saw the tension in his body release. “Hey Catherine,” he croaked. He was sitting on a patio sofa, staring out over the mangled concrete, flashing police lights and Stark Industry construction workers, that littered the streets of Manhattan.
I gently sat down next to him, before placing the steaming plate of pasta on the nearby coffee table. I took the blanket, and began to wrap it around his shoulders. He winced at my actions, afraid for me to touch him.
“It’s okay” I whispered, as I slowly placed a hand on his, in an attempt to show that I trusted him. I took the blanket and draped it over his broad shoulders before sitting back down again and turning my body towards his. It broke my heart to know that he was afraid to let me touch him, that he thought of himself to be that dangerous.
“Thank you.” he said, finally looking me in the eye.
I grabbed his hand and gave it a loving squeeze, a nonverbal you’re welcome.
He then turned his gaze back to the streets, his expression immediately hardening, holding within it a plethora of sorrowful emotion.
I looked over and saw that the plate of food had stopped steaming, growing colder from the chilly New York air.
“I brought you some pasta, Clint made it so it might taste like shit.” I joked gesturing the plate and fork towards him.
He smiled briefly at my comment. “You didn’t need to do that,'' he said. Before taking the serving of pasta. “You didn’t need to come all the way up here for that.”
Bruce always had a way of deflecting your kind gestures, of making himself feel like he didn’t deserve them. “You haven’t eaten in hours Bruce and even if you had, I still wanted to come up here and check on you anyway.”
He looked up at me, his brown eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, really thank you.” he said before twisting some pasta onto the fork and bringing it to his mouth.
“And surprisingly it doesn’t taste like shit.” He joked causing me to chuckle.
We both sat and watched the policeman directing traffic as he ate, all within a state of silence. From an outside perspective Bruce wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but when you took the time to get to know him, it wasn’t long before you realized that the man could talk your ear off. When he was passionate or excited about something, he could talk for hours, patiently explaining every particle, and every computation. Watching his face light up when I would ask a question, or when he realized that I was understanding, had become an occurrence I adored. Tonight, however, he didn’t utter a word. Probably in the fear that he may break down in front of me.
He finished up his meal quickly, he must’ve been starving, before placing his empty plate down on the table, and looking back to the street. It was honestly nice to see the city being picked up, to remind ourselves that the damage done can be fixed. There are certain types of destruction, however, that cannot me mended.
Two EMTs approached a pile of rubble. We witnessed their struggling to retrieve something, and to our horror they emerged with the body of a woman. They checked her vitals, and by the looks of dismay, it became apparent to us that she was dead. The emergency workers retrieved a body bag, and gently zipped up her carcass, thus sealing her fate. My heart ached as I thought of her family. That innocent woman could have been a wife, a parent, a child. Now remembered as a life cut short, lost to those they loved forevermore. I felt the pang of guilt press down on my chest, my mind overcome with the thought that that we could’ve somehow prevented the gruesome scene sprawled out before my eyes.
I looked over to Bruce, his eyes wide as he gazed upon the tragic scene that lay before us. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, I swear he didn’t even blink. He felt as though he deserved to watch this scene, to wallow in the pain that he may have caused.The screams of that young woman probably still echoing in his mind. I reached over and put a hand on his back, before rubbing small circles.
“Bruce let’s go inside okay. We don’t have to watch this” I said softly, as I gently gripped his chin pulling his gaze away from the street below to look at me.
He nodded in agreement, more concerned for my well-being that his. We both stood up and walked back inside to his sitting area, my hand still resting softly on the curvature of his back, as we took our seats on his familiar sofa. I had spent many nights sitting in this same spot, whether that be drinking and laughing with him and Tony, or after a mission in a similar situation as this one, I felt at home here, with Bruce. There were even some mornings where I had accidentally fallen asleep on that very cushion, only to awaken and find myself perfectly tucked in, with the smell of maple pancakes wafting from the kitchen.
After watching what had just happened, Bruce was trying even harder to hold back his emotions. He sat there, his hands shaking as they clasped together, his head hung in shame staring at his feet, his eyes glistening with tears. I scooted closer to him, before wrapping an arm around his feeble frame, my thumb gently rubbing his shoulder. He leaned into my touch, his weight shifting so his body pressed into my side.  
“What happened today wasn’t your fault.” I whispered, rubbing my hand up and down his back, in an attempt to bring him back to reality, away from whatever thoughts plagued his mind.
He pulled away, recoiling at the sound of my words that were telling him the exact opposite of what he had been telling himself. “I-I saw it happen, If I had just taken control, if I had just…”, he looked down once more, placing his head in his hands in an act of frustration. He wasn’t angry at me, he was angry at the Hulk for not being more careful, and mostly he was angry at himself. Angry that he couldn’t save them from the giant he was forcibly given the responsibility to manage.
I will never know what it is like to be plagued with something like the Hulk. The risk of danger and violence forever living just under the skin, unable to be fully contained or controlled. I will never know exactly what Bruce suffers through, but in this situation I unfortunately had some expertise.
I sighed, causing Bruce to look up from his sorrowful stance, as I adjusted my sitting position in the effort to make myself more comfortable.
“Ten years ago, I got a call from Fury telling me I was needed in Chicago for a negotiation. Some prick wanted access to SHIELDS weapon blueprints, in exchange for what I was told was “highly classified cargo”. I was instructed to give the contact false intel, it was risky, but nothing I wasn’t used to. “
“I had guessed that this special cargo would have been some sort of weapon, or at the worst maybe a high profile hostage, but when I arrived on location it turned out to be so much worse. These masked bastards had children, I’m talking little kids, lined up execution style. They looked so scared…”
At this point my breaths had become more shaky, causing me to take a moment to gather my senses. Bruce had scooted himself closer in an attempt to comfort me.
“I was so fucking pissed at Fury for not telling me, I just- I wasn’t prepared ya know?”
Bruce nodded and rested his hand on mine as if to let me know that I had his full attention.
“I proceeded with the negotiation, and at first it seemed like it had gone off without a hitch. My partner sweeped the place, and I was told that every child was safe and accounted for. Things, however, went to shit when he insisted the calculations on the blueprints were off. He pointed his gun at me, and without hesitation I blasted him. What I didn't see was the little boy who had been standing behind him.”
My eyes were now filled with tears, and my emotions made it so it was harder to speak.
“I- I killed him. He must’ve been hiding, and they didn’t count him. He was so scared, but there was nothing I could do. I-”
Bruce’s arm had now been gently wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me against his side.
“He was perfectly innocent. So, I guess that makes me a killer.” I whispered.
“No,” Bruce softly uttered. “Catherine, no you’re not-”
I pulled away from his grasp. “I should’ve looked closer, I should’ve double checked I-I”
“Stop, that wasn't your fault.”
I paused for a moment to regain my senses, before turning to look Bruce in the eye.
“Bruce, I killed that little boy, me myself and I. I was in control of my decision making, I did that. So, if that poor boy’s death wasn’t my fault, then how is what happened out there today your’s?”
“Catherine it’s not the same.”
“Your damn right it’s not the same. If anything, I'm at more fault than you are. I, Catherine King, am a killer.”
He looked at me saddened by the words I said, “Don’t associate yourself with that, you’re not that, not you. I’m the monster.” 
I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look me directly in the eye. “Why can't you grant yourself the same mercy you’ve given me?” He looked down, at a loss for words. 
“Bruce Banner, you are no killer, you are no monster. I know what evil looks like, and you aren’t it. Everyday I go out there and find myself met with the absolute worst shit that the world can offer. So, when I get back, I go see you. I go up to the lab, or come find you here because Bruce, you remind me that there’s still good left. You make me feel safe. I couldn’t feel that way about you if you were a monster.”
At first he sat there in awe, at a loss for words. The last few years of Bruce’s life had been ones of fear, isolation, and self-deprecation. His kind nature and mild-mannered disposition, met with violence, scorn and pain. He didn’t deserve to have gone through all that he did, but he didn’t realize that. His experiences were those fit for the monster that he and the world had so convinced himself he was. So, at the sound of my words, he began to tear up, not because of sadness or fear, but out of gratitude. Ever since the accident no one one had ever told Bruce that they felt safe in his presence. That they didn’t see him as a potential threat, a ticking time bomb.
After a moment, I noticed the look on his face grow soft, as he pulled me into an embrace. His chin resting on my head, as his arms wrapped around me. His hold was gentle, but all encompassing. It was as if he was afraid he’d hurt me if he squeezed too tight, but everything within him was telling him to never let go. I tightly hugged him back, carding my fingers through his hair, as I guided his head to rest in the curvature of my neck, all in the hopes of making him feel the truth behind my words, to make him feel human.
“Thank you.” he whispered.
And in that moment, with the two of us intertwined in the others embrace, we felt safe.
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years
Text
Metallo!Lena AU Pt 16
Lena walks into CatCo armored in a three piece suit and stiletto heels that add four inches to her height. With Kara in more practical shoes, Lena breaks about even, which lets her believe she has just as much presence as the disguised girl of steel.
Eyes follow them as Kara leads her to the elevator and through the bullpen, and Lena keeps her head high, eyes scanning for suspicious behavior. To her relief, she finds nothing more sinister than unabashed interest.
Kara guides her to a relatively small studio already prepared for their arrival with film cameras, seats, and studio lighting. Lena feels Kara grow tense at the sight of the set up; she gives her friend's wrist a gentle squeeze of reassurance before breaking away.
A flurry of makeup, mic checks and hair touch ups later, an intern counts down on three fingers. "We're live in three, two, one..."
Kara introduces them both, and starts with a few lowball questions to get them comfortable. Then she moves on to the million-dollar question, and the purpose of the entire interview.
"So, Miss Luthor--"
"Lena, please," Lena corrects gently with a smile.
Kara grins back. "Lena. There has been quite a few questions on everyone's minds since your appearance last month, but one has been dominating all the others: where have you been for the past thirteen months?"
Alex helped Lena craft her cover story. Lena slips into it easily.
"Unfortunately, contrary to what everyone thinks, the helicopter crash was not staged-- my brother hired a mercenary to kill me, and nearly succeeded. It happened around the same time I discovered my mother was a leading member of the terrorist organization known as Cadmus, and was planning an attack on me herself."
Kara's eyes widen as though this were her first time hearing it. "That's almost unbelievable."
"As a Luthor, attempts on my life aren't entirely uncommon, but the near miss of the crash forced me to drastic measures. It was decided that the safest course of action would be to fake my death and recuperate in protective custody."
Sympathy softens Kara's features. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you. I can't imagine what it must have been like trying to heal under those circumstances."
Lena smiles with a sadness not entirely scripted. "There were definitely some low points, but I'm lucky in that I had the best medical care and significant resources at my disposal to speed my recovery. There are many people who don't."
With a nod, Kara adjusts her glasses, then turns the page of her notepad. "Cadmus has been sowing a lot of fear throughout National City these past few months. How does it feel to know your mother may be partly responsible?"
"There is no partly, Kara. She is responsible: while we don't yet have confirmation as to whether she is the head of the snake, Cadmus would not have the same reach or capabilities without her resources."
Lena pauses there, taking a moment to take the edge off her tone. But her gaze doesn't soften.
"It makes me angry. Not only for what she planned to do to me, but for what she plans to do to this city. It's abhorrent, and I condemn it with every fiber of my being."
"Given the interest in you and your story these past few weeks, there's a good chance everyone in National City is watching this right now." Kara meets Lena's gaze. "If your mother is one of them, is there anything you would like to say to her?"
The question isn't one of CatCo's screened list: Kara adds it on the fly, and Lena's chest lurches painfully at the thought of being even a camera feed away from her mother. But she steels her spine and nods.
"Yes, there is." Lena looks into the camera. "I'm going to stop you. Whatever you have planned, whatever atrocities you intend to visit on this city, will come to nothing. I will not stop, and I will not rest until you are brought to justice." A dark smile of challenge curls her lips ever so slightly. "I'm coming for you."
Silence follows for a long moment, filling the room until Kara straightens in her seat, pulling attention back to her. "Let's take a brief break: when we come back, we'll discuss exactly how you came to know Supergirl."
Lena is still thrumming with energy as the red light above the cameras turn off. If she still had her old kryptonite, she'd have reduced the room to rubble, but as it is her skin crawls with anticipation, itching lash out. But only Kara comes close enough, her gaze and voice soft.
"You okay?" she asks.
"No."
"Sorry I sprang that on you."
Lena swallows, forcing herself to relax. "Don't be. It's time she knows she's the one being hunted."
Pitching her voice even lower, Kara leans closer. "We'll help you," she promises.
"I know," Lena replies easily. "I was counting on it."
The rest of the interview passes more smoothly, as Lena glibly fields questions about her relationship with Supergirl, and how exactly a Luthor came to be working alongside the cousin of her brother's most hated enemy.
"Supergirl is an absolute treasure to spend time with, and I cherish our friendship," Lena answers with a sly smirk. "The fact it would piss off my brother is only icing on the cake."
The only hiccup comes when James-- who'd been observing from off-camera-- approaches Kara towards the end of the interview and slips her a small piece of paper. Kara reads it, visibly surprised by the intrusion. When Kara's eyes lift to meet hers, Lena knows that James has added an impromptu question of his own.
But Kara doesn't seem concerned, so Lena remains relaxed as the reporter straightens and leans forward.
"We do have one last question for you, Lena, and I think its one all of National City would be eager to know."
Lena nods. "Fire away."
"What do you intend to do now?"
Oh. Alex hasn't helped her with a cover for that. Before Lena can summon a response, Kara finishes with an add-on.
"Do you intend to resume your position at LuthorCorp?"
Lena's mind races along the track the leading question provides her. It hasn't even occured to Lena that she could do so, and as she rapidly considers the option, a slow smile forms.
"Yes," she says, holding Kara's gaze. "Yes, I do."
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hectabdr · 3 years
Text
Dragon Raja IV - Chapters 13 - 15 + epilogue (Abridged)
Hi everyone, sorry for taking so long to post the last part, I had a lot of work this week.
BTW, since it's over, I put the whole novel summary on a PDF document, which you can download from here.
Previous Chapters
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Chapter 13
The nurse at the mental hospital couldn't believe her eyes when Luminous came back and requested to be admitted in his old room. He asked for his usual injection and went back to his not-so-favorite video game level.
In his vision, he kept accelerating far away form the swarm of death servitors, everything went according to plan and they still had lots of time to spare. He made many excuses to Nono in an attempt to justify his incredible performance, in the radio, there was a very strange song, Luminous recognized it, the name was "Daily Growing" by the folk group Altan, it was the same song that Johann and his father heard before they ran into Odin.
Nono was confused, Luminous just seemed to know way too many things. He knew about the damaged tire, about every safe route, the reach of the Nibelungen and the presence of a small, strange building hiding in the distance. It was the Media Asia Group building, according to Finger, this is the place where Nono found Chu Tianjiao's home. If this was a Nibelungen, an exact copy of the room should be there as well, still intact.
There was nothing surprising about the small place, but that was intentional. A person like Tianjiao was probably trained against people with skills like Nono's, so there had to be a secret compartment or a hidden door. He lifted the bed and there it was!
Mr Chu managed to create an underground bunker for himself. There was a bigger, more comfortable bed, a record player with Elvis Presley's discs and leather jackets. Luminous wanted to be more like this stylish man every second he spent there.
He noticed a bunch of pictures hanging from a string. Tianjiao spend a lot of time making copies of photographs from his family, but he wasn't in them, there was another man next to his wife and his son, but he used chemicals to erase him from the images. He also wrote small phrases dedicated to his wife in the back of the photos, like:
"This is the first year since you left me, you look good"
"This is the third year, you're getting fat"
"Fifth year, I don't have time to think of you anymore"
"Sixth year. ...but I still miss you".
The rest of the walls were filled with images and documents connected by red strings. Multiple events were listed in them, including the fall of Black Swan Bay in 1991 and the Greenland incident from November 7, 2002. These events related to dragon sightings and awakenings all led to a specific incident: The resurrection of the Black king Nidhogg. Even to the other dragon overlords, Nidhogg is a god-like existence, and its words are taken as prophecies. Chu Tianjiao was the city's watchman, he came to that place with a special purpose, but he mistakenly fell in love with a young dancer. They got married and had a child, they were happy, but he knew very well that he couldn't give them a peaceful life, so he signed the divorce papers and watched her take Johann away and marry a different man. While that family went to amusement parks and movie theaters, Tianjiao stayed on his underground room thinking about the fate of mankind.
Luminous memorized as much as he could from Tianjiao's investigation and went back with Nono, he kept driving and they entered the empty city, the lights were still on and the amusement park shined like a neon show.
- I always wanted to be in a Nibelungen, but I didn't expect it to be like this.
- How did you think it would be?
- Distorted, scary, definitely not this beautiful.
They looked up and they saw Odin, standing on top of the clock tower, Nono raised a gun and pointed at him but Luminous held it down, telling her not to disturb him, they kept driving silently and the god didn't notice their presence.
Luminous took her to a shopping mall, where they entered a department store and he gave her a dry change of clothes. This was still strange to her, he already knew her size, he never stopped looking at his watch and somehow he also picked an outfit that she liked (a pair of burgundy sports trousers and a fleece hoodie).
He gave her a cup of hot coffee and he suggested they waited on an empty movie theater while they waited for help.
Nono waited uncomfortable in front of the screen, Luminous picked up a random movie from the projector room, it was Wall·E, the second film roll to be exact, so the film started from the halfway point. The movie slowly relaxed her and she started chewing popcorn while they waited.
- I've been here before, haven't I?.
This was the theater where she rescued him from a failed love confession to Wenwen, before taking him to sign his Cassell admission papers. Actually, Luminous was watching Wall·E with his fellow literature club members. All of these were deliberate choices, he only picked the second half of the movie because they didn't have enough time to watch it from the start.
- You have been here, you have experienced all the things we are experiencing now and I have lived this moment many times.
Nono was a profiler, it wasn't that easy to trick her, so he admitted the truth. At 12:00am, Nono was going to die, like every other time.
- This dream will become a reality. I have repeatedly entered this dream just to find a way to save you, but I couldn't find it.
- If you can't find a way to save me, why don't you save yourself instead?
- My senior brother said that he always regretted leaving his father here alone, that feeling of regret is so terrible, it made him want to go back and die right there.
- Don't say such disgusting things, if this is really my end I will accept it.
The answer became obvious, the only way to escape this Nibelungen was for one person to stay behind and die. As the movie reached its climax, a spear broke through the screen, Nono didn't move, Luminous didn't move.
- No, senior sister, this will not be you end, it will be mine.
Chapter 14
Luminous opened his eyes, it was still a quiet summer night, he slid a small knife that he bought at the convenience store and ripped the straitjacket open. The hospital personnel were resting in different rooms so he sneaked out with ease.
His last attempt was the 108th, none of them managed to give him the perfect ending that he desperately chased. The old man with the tricycle was waiting for him outside, Luminous got on the small bike and drove away. The security guard couldn't believe it when he saw the same tricycle pass by for a third time that night, straight into the elevated road.
Luminous reached the old Asia Group building, now flooded and filled with rubble and mud. He managed to find the secret door and found the insides half-submerged as well, but not everything was ruined, he located a small metal suitcase in the corner that was filled with multiple weapons, including a revolver, a tactical shotgun and a Uzi submachine gun.
All seemed to indicate that this equipment came directly from Cassell College, an academy that never bothered to mention Tianjiao's existence.
In his way out, he picked one of the photographs that managed to survive the flood, it portrayed a family of three. Johann was probably five years old and his expression was as emotionless as usual, his robot face wasn't the result of some traumatic event after all, it came with him from the moment he was born. In the corner, Tianjiao wrote some words as well: "Stay like this, not crying, just looking into the distance".
This arsenal was strong, but insignificant in front of a being like Odin. Ming·Z·Lu showed up to offer one last gift.
Something for nothing, 50% fusion.
Luminous was familiar with that sensation, his nerves burned and the depths of his mind seemed to be cracked open, the pain was bigger than any human can endure, but once it was over, there was a feeling of euphoria, a need to fight. His senses increased immensely, he could now distinguish every single drop in the middle of the rainfall. This usually costed him a full quarter of his life but now it was... Free?
He finally heard the distorted noises of the death servitors, it sounded like the crying of babies. The wall of water and wind that protected Odin became visible, the black figure mounted an eight legged horse. He was in the Nibelungen again, this time he didn't plan to turn around.
Luminous approached them and parked the tricycle next to the Maybach, he stood in front of Odin and the god stayed silent. The words "You are finally here" were not uttered this time, he was right, Odin was waiting for Nono, but he didn't bring her this time, Luminous's presence was meaningless to his rival.
Odin kept staring at the end of the road, waiting for Chen Motong to appear and show her face.
- This is the right way to start the game, my senior sister is not here, only you and me, only one of us can leave this place alive!
He was vey happy, he finally played the god. He slowly grabbed a spear rocket launcher from the tricycle, the little devil was as reliable as always. The servitors immediately recognized the destructive potential of the weapon and tried to disperse, but Luminous opened fire first and scattered their shadowy remains on the road.
He saw his face in a puddle, the crazy expression of Ming·Z was now his own, like every other time they fused, it felt like this was his true nature. Weapon after weapon he ran out of ammo, some servitors sneaked behind him and sliced his torso with their claws, if it wasn't for the bulletproof vest that Tianjiao left in his suitcase, Mingfei would have died already.
A shot of his last gun, a M500 revolver finally broke one of the servitor's masks. He hadn't seen one of those faces since his mission in Japan, their skin was covered in scales and their teeth were long and alien-shaped. Odin gave them black robes and masks to use them as his personal servants. Odin was definitely different to every other dragon king he had faced before, they were all savage and aggressive, but this one was stoic and dressed like a figure of mythology, unless...
That was it! Odin wasn't a dragon disguised as a mythical character, Odin, the myth himself has been a dragon all along. The secret party had misread norse mythology, now it was clear that it narrated the history of the dragon clan and it was written by the dragons themselves. Every god was in fact a dragon king, in those myths, the main antagonist of Nidhogg was Odin. This god had already foreseen the coming of the end of the world, the so-called twilight of the gods, where the world tree would wither.
The suppressed Nidhogg will rise in the air, ready for revenge, it will destroy everything and ruin the kingdom of the gods. Therefore, Odin prepared himself for this battle, ordering the Valkyrie goddesses to gather the heroes's souls and place them in the Hall of Valor to assist him in resisting the black dragon. If the norse myths are indeed dragon history, the hall of valor must represent a place filled with countless dragon cocoons and embryos waiting to be awakened.
This information, this great secret was about to be buried there with him if he didn't survive this battle. Nono was probably packing, ready to leave with Finger and go back to Cassell, for whatever reason Odin needed her, she would be out of his reach, he just needed to endure and Odin was still as invincible as ever. Making a deal with Ming·Z was inadmissible, giving the little devil enough power to materialize could bring an immeasurable catastrophe. The boy appeared in front of him.
- Brother, you finally asked to see me, do you want to... Shake my hand?
The multitude of servitors overwhelmed him, he contemplated dying there, it wouldn't be so bad, just very lonely. With a loud bang! the strongest servitor flew out and fell motionless on the mud.
A red BYD car swiftly parked next to him, a hand came out of the window and shot the three closest servitors, that was Finger, of course it was him!
- Drive faster! Why the fuck are you here?
- What do I know? I was eating dumplings with your aunt and the hospital called to tell me you were gone!
Finger placed a tracking device on Luminous just like he did with Nono and saw his trace disappearing in the highway, so he went to investigate and entered the Nibelungen by accident.
- Don't get confused by my F-Rank rating, I started as an A-rank, remember?
Flammel tasked Finger with helping Luminous to prove Johann's existence, he didn't remember the young hybrid either, but he trusted Anjou, and Anjou believed in the importance of Luminous more than anyone. Not everyone on Cassell gave up on him after all.
- Don't drive away, we can't escape!
- I thought you told me to drive faster!
- Yes I did, but I meant towards Odin!
The servitors quickly realized what they were intending to do, so they formed a barrier in front of their master. Finger pressed a button on the car and one mini-gun came out of each side of the vehicle.
- The equipment department makes phones that double as grenades, you think they can't make 007's car?
The gatling guns opened fire on the crowd of servitors, effectively cleaning the way. Finger put the car on self destruct mode and got ready to jump out, Luminous got on the roof, aiming his knife at Odin. The car hit Odin's water barrier and exploded, the shockwave soared into the sky, filled with flames. Luminous jumped and managed to pass through, and with a swift move, he pierced through Odin with the blade, just like Tianjiao attempted to do many years before.
Every servitor stopped their movements, Odin's scores started dropping down immediately and his body got split in two. There had to be something wrong with that, there's no way he would fall to his death so easily. Luminous took the god's skull and removed the mask, under it, the face of a death servitor greeted him instead, the others started crying and laughing at them. Odin's only goal is Nono, it had always been Nono, this was a trap and he was already on his way to get her.
Chapter 15
Nono was sitting next to Su Xiaoyan's bed, peeling an apple. The woman happily ate the bonbons that Nono brought for her as a gift.
- Nono, how is your mother doing?
- She's fine, she's still working and always asks me when I'll get married but I just don't tell her.
Nono had to make up that story, but at that moment she really felt like Xiaoyan's niece. She checked the woman's medical records, apparently the doctors thought she was schizophrenic and amnesiac, as long as Nono played her role well, the medical personnel would think Xiaoyan's amnesia made her forget about her relative.
Because Nono brought Bonbons, Xiaoyan recognized her immediately and happily accepted her gift.
She had been there since her son's death, she lost track of time, to the point where she felt like she had been there for three or four months, when in reality, seven years had passed. Not many people visited her in that time, her husband would take her home for a few days every now and then, but those events became less and less usual. Of course, Nono was there for a reason, without Tianjiao's apartment, her only remaining clue was Johann's mother, but the woman wasn't very open about her life. Nono's ability allowed her to put puzzles together, but Xiaojiao kept messing up the pieces.
- Did your former husband treat you well?
- He couldn't make enough money and he was very unmotivated, playing foolish all day long, I had enough of him!
- But he's handsome, and he's probably still breaking hearts.
- How do you know that he's handsome? You haven't seen him before.
- Of course I have, I remember hugging my uncle!
- Come on, do you really think I'm that broken? I know I don't have a niece.
- Then why didn't you tell the doctor?
- Because you're so pretty, and I like to chat with pretty girls, there's no one else here to chat with me, and you don't look like a bad person either.
Nono was genuinely surprised, so she declared her intentions straight on, she wanted to know more about Chu Tianjiao, but his ex-wife didn't seem to know a lot about him either, he would constantly lie about his past and alternate between multiple versions of the story.
- Sometimes he told me that he was a great spy, and that he came here to complete a task, and I believed him, without a clue of his salesman-like nature!
- And you still married him?
- He was handsome, and I was young.
Xiaoyan didn't express any regret in divorcing him, she'd rather be with someone she could rely on, but there was something else she could not explain.
- But he seems to have left something behind with me, a very important thing, I just can't remember it.
- What is it?
- I said I can't remember it, I've been thinking about it for a very long time.
- What kind of thing?
- A very important thing, I must find it, it would be very bad if I didn't.
A burst of cold wind opened the windows and made them shiver, Nono stood up and went to close them but she noticed something strange, the flowers on the outside were all withered, black petals flew through the room, she closed the window as fast as she could, something bad had happened and the air outside smelled of death.
She took out a desert eagle from her bag and stopped Xiaoyan from screaming, the woman relied on her intuition to understand that Nono wasn't going to hurt her. The place was silent and the lights flickered, the instinctive feeling of being alert that came from true isolation soon got a hold of her. She and Xiaoyan got out of the room, door after door, every doctor and every patient had disappeared.
The rain and the wind rapidly eroded the building. The day was finally here, she had never been in a Nibelungen before, she once regretted not being able to experience it, now Nibelungen came to see her. She didn't knew wether to be nervous or excited.
- Someone, someone is coming. Su Xiaoyan's voice trembled slightly.
The sound of footsteps made an echo in the building, those weren't human steps, that sounded like a few horses were coming their way. The storm, the Nibelungen, the steed, the rider, it seemed to be an ancient king who came with a strong breath of death, and the flowers in the garden withered in front of him. Nono remembered him, she saw his silhouette in the reflection of the glass when she went to Tianjiao's apartment.
The rider didn't seem to know where Xiaoyan's room was and he was checking them one by one. They ran towards the elevator, the rider was on the first floor so they needed to get to the top as fast as they could without the sound of their steps giving away their position. Behind them, the fluorescent lights went out one by one. Nono finally saw the reflection of the elevator's door in a mirror, but when its doors opened, the light of Odin's flames came out.
They ran in the other direction and soon reached the stairs, they ran down but it didn't matter, they were trapped on an endless loop. She shot at the creature but the bullets melted before touching the god's armor. They kept running and Nono kept shooting back but it wasn't buying them any more time, temperatures were rising and there was no way out.
Odin wasn't even in a hurry to reach them, Nono took Xiaoyan in her arms and ran across a hallway, enduring the terrible heat of the floor. She tried to get out through a window, but after opening the curtains she noticed that the whole world outside had changed and she was greeted by the sight of a roman pantheon.
Nono suddenly fell silent, she helped Xiaoyan to sit down on a bench and put her boots on the woman's feet. She noticed something, she was crying, she was remembering.
- There might be a way for you to get out of here by yourself, now tell me, what did Tianjiao left for you exactly?
- It's... A child. I had a son with him, his name is Johann Chu, I can't find my son... I can't find my son!
Xiaoyan was holding a pillow in her arms, the doctor said that she would put this pillow in her belly every morning and happily declare that she was pregnant. Nono took it from her hands and threw it away.
- Since you have a clear memory of him, you don't need this anymore, you will find your son, although I don't know where.
In this world, those who are not lunatics are the ones who were deceived. Luminous and Su Xiaoyan were the craziest because of their link to Johann Chu, to the truth. His mother's mental disorder was not there because she had lost a son seven years ago, a certain god wanted to modify her memory of him and she was resisting. She tied the little pillow to her back because a child is only safe in his mother's body, she sensed that someone was going to hurt her boy, so she wanted to feel like she could protect him.
Nono pushed Xiaoyan into a cubicle next to the ward and told her to keep the door closed until someone came to rescue her. She took Finger's GPS device out of her bag and broke it, expecting Luminous and Finger to arrive there after seeing her signal disappear. Odin arrived, his flames evaporated the strong currents of water and stood in front of her, Nono kept two knives on her back and a desert eagle in each hand.
- Odin!
The creature and his lance were impossible not to identify, the god actually exists.
- You are finally here.
He slowly raised Gungir and a faint white thread appeared, connecting the tip of the spear and Nono's heart. She thought his goal was Xiaoyan, due to her connection to Johann, but she was wrong, Odin's goal was her and only her. No wonder Luminous threw her down in the library, he probably had a foreboding of her death for some reason and tried to save her, his eyes showed a constant state of panic.
She didn't believe him and they put him on a psychiatric institution. She really wanted to tell him that she was sorry, because she had underestimated him.
She had always tried to be there for Luminous, she couldn't deny that she saw a lot of herself in him, this obsession with taking care of her sidekick was so prevalent because she knew how it was like to be powerless, lost and defenseless, but in the most critical moment, she had failed him.
Nono vaguely heard a song, a duet about a father and his daughter, it was coming from somewhere, along with the noise of a car engine. Luminous was coming, that song came from the radio, but how could she hear him? It didn't matter, she felt him presence and she believed it.
- Luminous! Don't you fucking dare to come here!
Nono shot every bullet she had left and they melted on Odin's presence. The lance was thrown and suddenly, the Maybach smashed through the wall, its lights illuminated Nono's eyes. She smiled, the moment she saw him, the cartridge of her gun was empty. The lance had already started its course and Luminous could only see her lips moving:
- I'm sorry
- Ming·Z·Lu! Luminous roared, time slowed down in his eyes
- The little one is here! Ming·Z smiled, Since I promised my brother that I'd try everything!
Come out! Golden saint cloth of the zodiac!, Phase shift armor!, Fierce fist! Seven-fold ring of the blazing sky!, Absolute domain AT Field!.
Every time he yelled a strange name, Luminous froze for a moment, these strange spells were taken directly from anime shows, they were weapons that lined up in front of Odin's lance, even a nuclear explosion could be rejected by them.
- What are you doing?
- I don't really know what tricks would work so I'm doing all of them!
Ming·Z kept casting spells, the speed of the lance was indeed affected but it never stopped nor it changed its trajectory.
- Hurry up brother, run!
Nono tried to yell, telling Luminous to stay away, but her mouth moved too slowly. Luminous ran past Odin and past the lance. The seven-fold ring was the strongest defense against projectiles, every time the Gungir lance pierced through a layer, it made a loud noise. Nono dropped the empty gun, she didn't have the strength to wield her knives. The spear hadn't arrived yet, and she was already like a lamb crucified on an altar.
Gungir hit the final defense, the sound was almost glass shattering.
- I couldn't stop it, even with the last layer. Give her a hug, kiss her! This is going to be your last chance! I'll buy as much time as possible for you!
Ming·Z made another barrier but the lance broke it, the little devil's hands were splashed with blood and they stained his bow tie, but he didn't care and looked at his side as an indifferent Luminous passed by and stood in front of Nono. He never managed to change the events, just the scenery. Gungir pierced through Ming·Z's chest.
- Brother, I tried my best
- It's ok, I'm here as well.
Luminous wasn't going to hug or kiss Nono, he was there to take her place. He could clearly feel his heart being cut open. The spear hadn't even touched his skin and his body had begun to carbonize and turn black, showing a rare struggle, burning it inch by inch.
- No! No! No! Nono struggled to stand up and pull the lance away from him.
- Don't come near me!
The lance tried to go through him, but it only managed to pin him against the wall. Nono shivered slightly and tears slowly ran down her face, but she didn't realize that she was crying. She always wanted him to grow up and go his own way, to use any advantage she might have over him to push him forward, but now the person who was crying on the floor was her.
- Senior sister, are you okay? It's okay.
Luminous raised his head, half of his head and body were carbonized, the cracks at the end of his lips extended all the way to the roots of his ears. He was really happy, because he finally managed to achieve his goal. He didn't want to live with the regret of losing her, he had seen Johann's own regret already.
Odin wasn't pleased, the god roared as he realized he had missed his chance. Luminous whispered:
- Ming·Z·Lu...
- Brother, I am here, you really found a method to stop the lance!
- In this world, only a monster can stop a monster, and I am the biggest monster in the world...
- Yes, you are the biggest monster in the world, brother! You are awesome! Then, are you ready to make the last deal? I can't do much against the lance, but I can take care of the monster behind it, the little devil is good at this dirty work!
Luminous stared at him and asked for two conditions:
- Kill Odin, but also take Nono back to safety.
- Alright but hurry up! That guy is almost here!
Sleipnir's eight legs made a thunderous sound, the dragon subspecies that Odin mounted carried its master into the room. Luminous raised his blood-soaked hand and gave the little devil a high-five. Ming·Z's figure suddenly appeared in the night sky, this time he stopped laughing and opened his arms. He looked like a suspended cross.
- Something for nothing, 100% fusion.
He breathed deeply, as if he wanted to inhale all of the world's air into his lungs. Sharp bone spurs protruded from his body and he was covered in black scales. Huge black wings sprung from his back and he took flight, diving down, his image poured into Luminous's body.
The carbonized skin quickly peeled off, he experienced musculoskeletal growth and deformation and the sound of a glacier cracking was heard across the hospital.
The black wings were opened and Gungir was ejected from his chest. Sleipnir couldn't move a single inch closer to them, because Luminous placed his hand on the horse's chest. Nono stared blankly at him, because she couldn't tell if the monster in front of her was a friend or an enemy, but Luminous stared back at her.
- Sister, don't be afraid, as long as I live, you'll be fine.
After two years, Chen Motong saw the devil that rescued her from the bottom of the Three Gorges Dam once again. She remembered how he held her, his childlike fear and his voice.
Don't die, don't die, don't die... Don't Die!
- So it was you...
But Luminous didn't hear those words at all, he rushed to Odin, at the flash of lightning, the monsters that had been in conflict with each other so many times, leaving countless disasters, clashed once again, and the claws and the sword stained the place red and black.
They roared, they fought, a war between kings that can only be ended by death.
Epilogue
On the elevated road, Finger stopped for a moment to catch his breath. This guy is usually slacking and his posture is erratic. The death servitors are struggling to even reach his clothes.
There should be half a marathon left before he can lose them, however, the physical strength of those things is almost unlimited.
Seeing him stop, a group of servitors suddenly became excited and the baby-like cries they made reached the heavens. A girl in a black outfit and a gauze mask appeared in front of him, a ninja.
- How did you know I was here?
- I have a radar for pretty girls... Can you handle that many servitors?
Mai Sakatoku drew two small blades.
- Those are too many, I'm specialized in assassination, not group combat. It's a pity that the other two girls are not here...
- Then I hope I can help.
He had a sword in his hand, the mirror-like Murasame suddenly turned black, the black blade light soon extended all the way to his body and the rain around it evaporated. Mai was surprised by the brutality of the sword, but Finger remained indifferent.
- What kind of sword is that?
- Murasame, have you never heard of the Dragon Slayer of Fire? Then you are really kind, but a bit ignorant, my friend!
After saying that, he jumped and cut off the elevated road.
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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years
Text
Shattered Upside Down
A kotlc wings au: masterpost here
Chapter 10: The Reconnections
word count: 8.6k
chapter summary: So many things just went wrong, now Sophie and her friends have to pull themselves together and help each other process it, otherwise they'll never figure out what to do next.
warnings: mentions of blood/injury, brief mention of bodies (non-human), general distress and confusion, suppressing emotions, panicking, crying, swearing, purposeful misuse of grammar, a lot of caps (not in an angry way, just excited yelling), and I think that's everything
taglist: I’ll reblog with it. let me know if you want to be added or removed!
Hello! Ten chapters! We're in the double digits now! To celebrate I'll be posting a deleted scene from the earlier chapters, so if that sounds interesting to you, feel free to check it out! Now, I know you're probably eager to find out what happens next, so I'll stop !!
ao3 link here or read below
Everything froze.
The world was silent.
That little girl looked at her, tears streaming down their face, fingers clenched in that creature’s fur, nearly tearing it apart. They stared at her, and Sophie stared back.
Her friends were arranged in a circle around them, stumbling from the rubble, slipping in the carnage, trembling forward. Everyone’s eyes wide, mouths agape, dust clinging to their skin.
Eyes on the girl.
The girl wouldn’t take their eyes off Sophie. There were ten of them arranged in a perfect circle around them like some sick ritual from a human horror film.
Their mouth fell open, salty tears clinging to their lips,
and
they
screamed.
Cracks and tremors exploded their way through the rough ground cascades and shock waves of terror and sheer power ricocheted through the pathways of earth travelling along hidden roots and sending the whole world into a frenzy and it was so so so so unbearably loud.
Sophie clapped her hands over her ears, gritting her teeth as she tried to stop her very brain from rattling about in her skull. Her eyes closed for one moment but that was all it took.
The girl was gone when she opened her eyes.
There was a bag in her hand. Heavy, stuffed with metal pieces and tools and things she didn’t understand. Someone was holding her hand. A cloak had been draped across her back.
People were asking so many questions. What to do. Should they leave? Was Sophie’s shoulder okay? Was anyone else hurt? Would their parents try and come back? They couldn’t, she had their pathfinder. Should they just leave the bodies here?
Because there were bodies everywhere. Flattened into the ground, entrails strung between crumbled buildings like streamers. Thick, gleaming rivers of blood filled the cracks in the pavement, inching ever closer and closer, turning the claw marks and paw imprints in the ground into puddles, into drenched ground and soaked soil.
There was a dandelion growing between the cracks, petals now completely, entirely red.
She couldn’t see through the glass on the building to her side, but she could see her crimson reflection in the sheet of blood running down it, the drops drying like wax to the side.
It vanished, feathers blocked her view.
Deep browns spattered with gold and teal, a grey so dark it looked black, and--blue. A deep, rich blue.
Fitz, Keefe, and Maruca stood at three different points, a triangle amongst the ten of them, wings spread as the entire group faced inward. Blocking everyone’s view.
“What--what now?” Biana whispered, face drained of all color. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, bite marks in her lips.
“Who was that?” Keefe asked, grimacing, his hands held awkwardly at his side, like he couldn’t figure out just what he was supposed to do next.
Her fingers tightened around the pathfinder to the point of pain. Sophie just wanted this to be over. She’d been fighting so many people for so long. She didn’t want to anymore. She wanted to take a break, to go to the beach at midnight and push her friends into the water. To tend to a garden because she wanted to and not because she’d die without it. To listen to music on a blaring speaker without the looming terror it would draw something terrifying, something unnaturally scarier than her.
Twirling the pathfinder rhythmically beneath her fingers, she sighed. “Let’s just go.”
Keefe looked to her, alarmed. She didn’t care.
“Anyone have any last minute errands to run while we’re here,” she said, much too lightly. She couldn’t see the carnage through the feather barrier, but she could see it, knew what it looked like. The image was burned blisteringly detailed into her mind, and would remain for the rest of her goddamned life.
“Um...no,” Wylie answered, a bit confused, scratching at his head.
Sophie rubbed at her face; it felt like there was something stuck to her skin. A layer of filth and grime and wrong shuddering through her cells that refused to go away. She gasped, stumbling slightly--her shoulder. The movement jostled her shoulder. Throbbing aches thrummed their way through the surface of her skin, melting her nerves into rivulets of illusory, constant stimulation. Trembling, she exhaled.
Fitz reached out to steady her, frowning as he pulled her in to take a closer look. She didn’t let him. Covering it with her good arm, she tried to sort through her thoughts.
The sight of that little girl again…
“Then let’s just go.” Sophie looked up, startled. Linh. That had been...Linh. Her arms were crossed against her body, brow furrowed. Tam hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder, seeming to convey something no one but her could understand. Linh shrugged in response and his expression only darkened, fingertips noticeably darker when he dropped his hand.
Almost reluctantly, they all linked hands. Like they were uneasy leaving this place the way it was. But what choice did they have? What could they possibly do?
Run away. That’s what they could do.
Again.
She couldn’t get it off. She couldn’t get anything off. The dust and grime from that haphazard city stuck to her skin like pollen and her clothes were damp with sweat and suctioned to her body and those wings were stuck to her back and she wanted to rip rip rip them off and set them alight and dance through the flames.
But there was dirt on the porch and she needed to sweep it off.
There were flower petals on the couch and she needed to clear them away.
There were wires and metal plates and parts to be sorted.
So she pushed it away. Pushed it down. Took a deep breath. And got back to work.
Unnerving quiet crept through the cracks of the wood planks beneath her feet. Too quiet. No wind blew through the canopied trees, no animals chirped in the forest. Everything had...paused. Or maybe that was just her, unaware of the world around her as she methodically plucked flower petals from the seat of the chair, tossing them out a window.
Everything she did pulled against the bandages wrapped haphazardly around her shoulder. She’d popped a few pills when she’d gotten back, human medicines she’d grabbed with Tam, rinsed the wound off, poured an antiseptic over the top--it’d stung like a bitch but she’d live--and wrapped the thing up. She didn’t want to deal with it anymore than she had to.
Attempting to clean her wound had disturbed some of the neatly wrapped bandages from Elwin--which was surprisingly difficult with all the pollen. But her right arm was still good and covered, the other good from about the elbow down. Right now, she could probably pass as one of those haunt actors in a human haunted house, some kind of resurrected mummy.
As she wandered around, she passed by friends moving, living their own lives, shadows trailing behind them, marring their faces. Biana and Fitz had disappeared somewhere the moment they’d gotten back, tears trailing down their cheeks. Linh had vanished too, arms crossed and expression tight, Tam right behind her, apprehensive, unable to deduce what was wrong.
What wasn’t wrong? That would’ve been a better question.
They were living just to the left of where they should’ve been. They were all together, everyone was alive, but everything was just slightly off. This was not right. They weren’t supposed to be like this. What had happened to them? Was it still happening? Who was that little girl?
She found a closet in one of the empty houses, a broom and some lengths of handmade rope, flowers curling out from a handful of the woven vines. That...didn’t seem like how rope was supposed to exist, but she also didn’t know much about making rope. Or anything about it.
A broom sat in the corner of the closet, which she made sure to note. She’d need that.
Slinging the length of rope over her good shoulder, she carelessly tossed a throwing star from hand to hand as she made her way through the village.
The bridges needed repair.
Just ahead, one of the bridges had snapped off entirely on one side, dangling over the edge and into a sharp drop much in the way those comical action movies had shown from when she was little.
Thunk. She’d set the supplies near the edge of the platform, but she didn’t care.
Tossing her legs over the edge, she braced herself; this would take a level of control she wasn’t sure she possessed--especially not right now.
Pressing off with her hands, she lowered herself into the air, just like when she’d lowered herself into swimming pools as a kid. Not the time to be nostalgic, Sophie. But she couldn’t help it. The sun had been overwhelming, the air muggy and humid. A beehive had started to form under the water slide and her and her sister would always plunge beneath the chemical surface when a bee flew near, or even just the sound of those wings approached.
The very same sound her own wings were now making, holding her gently in the sky as she urged herself forward, muscles in her back tearing at the scratches, the mite marks in her shoulder. Grabbing the frayed ropes and hauling them back to the platform she’d jumped from, she used her body weight to anchor it down while she tied and wove and cut the fresh rope--that’s what the throwing star was for. She didn’t think there’d be any scissors in an abandoned village, but she was open to surprises.
Actually, no she wasn’t. The unexpected oh so frequently came begging alongside disaster and terror, singing a sweet song of promise only to rip it to shreds as soon as you let it in.
Testing the strength, she tentatively walked across the planks, bouncing in the middle. She probably shouldn’t have been walking on it if she was unsure of its stability, but she wouldn’t fall if it broke. A dangerous mindset to play with and she knew it, but she didn’t care. Either way, it held. Good. Something was fixed. Something was better now.
She did it again. Time ticked passed, the supply of rope slowly dwindled, knot after knot slipping through her hands, fixing bridges until her fingers were raw and red and the muscles in her back were threatening to pop out. Her shoulder stung, the entire area burning as if set alight, but she didn’t dare take more than a minute’s break. Anything more would snap her out of this zone.
Back to the closet, then. She grabbed the broom. Anything, anything to keep her body moving, physical labor to numb her mind.
Dust showered over the edge, tumbling towards the ground far far below. She could watch it touch the ground if she wanted; instead, she let her mind disappear. Letting herself live in her own body would lead to circles and circles and circles, coming back to everything and anything she’d ever said.
Each mistake she’d made. There was nothing she could undo, but her mind could replay the possibilities over and over and over again. What if she’d tucked the wings inside her shirt instead of relying on just the cape after they’d escaped that creature. What if she’d agreed to meet in a different city, let Mysterium be just a mission for Dex, contacting their parents separate.
She should’ve tried harder, fought stronger. Should’ve. She hadn’t. An infinite cascade of what-ifs and maybes were drowning her, shoving her head under the water and there wasn’t a drop of energy left in her to scream.
Bristles brushed against the wood, precise. Methodic. She worked her way out from the inside of the platform, moving the dirt to the edges to watch it fall away.
Realizing there was grime inside too, she entered her little home. When had she come back to it--she could’ve sworn she was out further. Shifting the rug out of the way, she efficiently swept the floor. Kicking aside furniture with barely half a thought, holding a couch up with one hand, careful to avoid stepping on the stained glass littered about the floor. Bare feet didn’t mix well with glass, and her body was too bruised to torment further. Not that it was stopping her.
There was so much to do, so many tasks to complete.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how she was supposed to react, she knew that much. She had quite possibly just permanently severed her connection to her old life. Had maybe seen her father for the last time. He’d seen her, knew there was something wrong.
And she stood here with a broom she’d found in that empty home, sweeping rivers of dried dirt off the wood floor, watching it shower all the way down to the ground below.
She didn’t remember how she got back here.
She didn’t remember what she was supposed to do next.
She didn’t remember her name.
“Hey, you,” he said, gently, approaching hesitantly from behind. She still flinched, muscles tensing. Keefe took the broom from her hands, setting it to rest against the side of a nearby wall. That--that wasn’t her wall. When had she strayed so far from her cottage?
She hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving.
Almost like he was afraid he’d break her, he pushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear, the ones that were obscuring her face. Hiding the trails of tears crying silently down her cheeks.
He inhaled softly, eyebrows creasing with concern as his other hand came up to rest on the other cheek, holding her in his hands. She hadn’t even looked at him and yet she could still picture every minute detail of his expression.
“You okay?”
She didn’t know if she was physically capable of responding. Softly, her own hands covered his, savoring the warmth of his skin against her own, pressing her eyes closed in a futile attempt to dry her eyes.
Sophie leaned forward, her forehead pressing against Keefe’s chest as his arms widened around her, caught off guard for a moment before his hands slowly settled on her back, careful to avoid the wings.
“O-oh. Okay. We can--we can do this, then. If you need.”
She did need. Desperately. Tilting her face to the side so her cheek was pressed to his chest instead, she held him close. And let him hold her. They didn’t talk. Just stood there, bodies flush.
Eventually, he raised one of his hands from her back, brushing it through her hair, chaotic and tangled from the style she’d hastily torn out. She felt his fingertips combing through the strands, ghosting across her scalp as he pulled at the knots, untangling it with his fingers the best he could. His fingers slid against the back of her neck, lifting the strands stuck to her skin. Gentle. He was oh so gentle with her, like she was a porcelain doll and one wrong move would shatter her into pieces.
“You doing alright, Sophie?”
Sophie pulled back and nodded, smoothing out his shirt, pulling it back down and pointedly avoiding eye contact. He wasn’t having it.
Keefe held her chin, slowly directing her to look back at him, his skin warm against the dried salt on her own.
“Are you okay, Sophie? Please talk to me. Or anyone. I know that mission didn’t go well and--”
“Stop,” she whispered, and he shut right up. It was so so much harder to talk than she thought it would be. “I can’t. Not right--I can’t. Too much. Everything. All at once. I can’t.”
He was nodding, the wings at his back shifting slightly, readjusting themselves, a deep charcoal grey. Her fingers tightened into fists in this shirt before she realized what she was doing and released the fabric, stepping back, exhaling.
Today had been absolutely awful and she hated everything about it. From pushing her old life even further away to accidentally revealing the wings to the little girl on that intelligent monster down to the chill in the air that morning.
But Dex had gotten his supplies. He’d had everyone help carry everything back--though he tried to get her to let them all handle it, what with the shoulder. And they were all still here. And everyone else had been taken back to the underground unharmed. Those were wins. They were positives. They were good things but she just couldn’t focus on them.
“Do you...want a distraction?” Keefe asked, hesitantly waving a hand in front of her face to bring her back to reality.
She nodded, running her hands down her face. It was too much. Too many things had gone so wrong so quickly and she’d wanted to bury her imparter beneath her mattress because it was exploding with messages and hails and just the thought of reading them made her so nauseous her knees had buckled and she’d had to lay on the floor for several minutes.
That’s when she’d remembered how disheveled the place was. So she’d started cleaning and hadn’t stopped. Not until he’d come to find her.
“Okay,” he breathed, hands combing back through his hair as he squinted off into the distance. Thinking. He hadn’t had anything planned and was thinking on the fly. He glanced to her.
“You stole Grady’s pathfinder, right?”
“No need to rub it in,” she grumbled, patting at various points all over her body, trying to remember where she’d put it. She’d thought she’d tucked it into her waistband, but it wasn’t there. “I think I left it inside.”
He pulled at his lip with his fingers, lost in thought. “Okay. Cool. Where?” She gestured for him to follow her, leading him across a few bridges, some she’d repaired and tied back into place, others they had to take a route around because she hadn’t fixed them yet.
She ducked her head inside, scanning the space, the little tables. There. She jogged inside, snatching it off a chair and returning back outside, holding it out to Keefe.
Taking it from her, he began to spin the facets, a new pattern emerging. It seemed familiar, although she could never quite understand how the crystals worked.
He smiled slightly to himself, glancing. When he saw her looking back he quickly averted his gaze, cheeks turning red. Tilting her head to the side, she watched him hold up the pathfinder to the afternoon light.
Lacing their fingers together, he looked over his shoulder at her. “I don’t think you’ve ever been where we’re going, but it’s not the location that’s important. Got it?”
She shook her head, but he didn’t elaborate further, pulling them both into the light.
Purple grass had never made much sense to Sophie. Foxfire had purple grass, but no one bothered to explain why. It was one of those elvish things that hadn’t been deemed important enough for her to learn.
This grass wasn’t just purple, but varying shades of seafoam greens and delicate blues as well. Tall, reaching to about her knees, some adorned with flowers.
That was all. Grass, as far as she could see.
Keefe sighed next to her, then rubbed at his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if this place would be clear or not.” Clear of monsters. Taking a chance, coming here without scouting or defense aside from their new mobility and Sophie’s strength--not that she was in great shape at the moment. Perhaps the others had strange new traits too, not that she’d ask. Fitz had been staring off quite a lot recently, but she didn’t know if that meant anything.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around. There was...nothing. Nothing was good. Nothing meant they were safe. Nothing meant this place hadn’t been overrun or corrupted just yet. But it also wasn’t like Keefe to do nothing.
Tucking the pathfinder away, he ran his fingers through his hair, standing slightly taller, pulling himself together. “Okay. Look around. What do you see?”
“Grass.”
“Yeah, there’s grass. Who do we know who likes grass and fields and streams?” He was trying to lead her somewhere but her brain had turned to lead. Wait. A stream? Huh, now that she thought about it, the faint gurgle of something wet rushing by could be heard. Water pouring over rocks.
Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but he just smiled back. Okay. Grass. Someone who liked--
“Oh!” She could feel her eyebrows shoot up, putting the pieces together.
Keefe full on grinned now, but she shut her eyes, sinking to her knees amongst the foliage, deliberately ignoring the light, tickling brush off the blades against her skin. .
Bracing her, holding her steady just in case, his hand rested atop her shoulder as he came to stand behind her.
Pressing her fingers to her temples, she transmitted her query across the world. Hello? Are you there? Over and over and over again, unsure which direction to send the message so sending it everywhere, a full 360 around her body, waves of power rushing from her mind that no one but people like her could sense.
Finally, her message was answered.
SOPHIE! HELLO! FRIEND!
Silveny’s exuberant shouts filled her mind and she barely even grimaced. Apparently maintaining the mindbubble so often had built up her resilience to pounding noise inside her head.
Yeah, she responded, leaning back into Keefe. Do you want to come visit? Me and Keefe?
FRIEND! VISIT! KEEFE!
Sophie nodded her head, then realized the glittery horse couldn’t see her. Yes. It’s safe. Well--yeah, we’ll go with that. Safe! Just a really quick visit, okay? I don’t want to put you in danger.
Keefe was fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt, unrolling the parts that had gotten bunched up.
VISIT! SAFE! SOPHIE!
Yes...that is...that’s what I said.
WHERE! WHERE! WHERE!
“I’d like to contact whoever designed alicorns and file a formal noise complaint,” she grumbled, and she could faintly hear Keefe’s snickering before her attention was too far gone to process anything anymore.
I’ll show you, she said, gathering up an image of the place. That must’ve been why Keefe had asked her what she’d seen, to ensure she had a clear visualization before reaching out. Hadn’t he come up with this on the spot? Why was his attention to detail so casual?
Almost immediately after sharing the image, Silveny severed their connection, still mulling over and looking at the details Sophie’d provided.
Groaning, she sat back up, realizing she’d been leaning practically all of her weight onto Keefe, who’d sat down behind her at some point during that conversation--it must’ve lasted significantly longer than she’d realized.
“So?” he asked, shaking his arms out and stretching a bit, rolling his wrist and straightening his shirt.
Sophie blinked a few times, the fading light still too bright after her eyes had been closed for so long “She cut me off. I showed her where we were and then she severed the connection, so whatever that means--”
Crackling thunder rolled through the air, making them both jump as a hole tore itself through space, several sparkling winged alicorns emerging, prancing their way through the sky as they circled down to land a ways away, trotting over to where they both sat in the grass.
“Hey, Glitter Butt,” Keefe whispered, stroking her face, brushing the icy strands of hair out of her eyes. She snorted and butted his hand in return, pressingly firmly into his hand. His smile was infectious, the wings at his back a near blinding white to match the alicorn before him.
KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!
“She’s sure excited to see you,” Sophie told him, rubbing at her temple; Silveny was even louder in person.
Meanwhile, she was surrounded on either side by two little foals bumping up against her thighs, trying to knock her into the grass so they could play. But their movements were...disjointed. Erratic. Colored with fear and panic.
“They’re anxious,” she realized, frowning. Keefe’s expression had darkened slightly too, his wings shifting back to grey.
“Are you, mama?” He consoled, pressing up close to her neck, petting her all down her side. She didn’t know why she’d bothered to say it aloud--he could already feel it.
Sophie relented after a particularly brutal push from Wynn, sinking to the ground once more, letting him curl up in her lap, trembling beneath her fingers as she stroked his mane. Luna took more to Keefe, pulling at his shirt with her teeth, nearly tearing the fabric, pressing her wet nose to his skin, making him jump slightly.
He laid back in the grass, wings spreading behind him, Luna curling up beside him and laying her head atop his stomach. It was in this moment, the wind gently stirring the pastel grass cushioning their bodies, the intertwining feathers, the way his eyes closed and he leaned back, hand tangled in Luna’s mane, that Sophie yearned to be an artist. To capture this moment right now and make it real somewhere else, to allow it to exist outside her mind.
What she wouldn’t give to preserve this moment, this reprieve.
KEEFE? KEEFE? KEEFE OKAY? Silveny interrupted, blasting her thoughts into Sophie’s mind, hopping about anxiously, refusing to settle. Greyfell stood a little ways back, wary eyes observing the environment.
There’d been no news of anything catastrophic that Silveny had shared with her, nothing alarming or dangerous. But she’d kept secrets before. What had they seen? What had they met that made them so skittish?
Wynn butted his head against her side, demanding more cuddles and attention.
Yeah, Keefe’s okay. Why?
Silveny had pressed in closer, stomping at the ground. She tried to grab him by the shirt, pull him closer to her, but he ducked back, holding up his hands.
“Hey, hey, hey. You’re fine. It’s okay. Calm down, mama,” he whispered, gently stroking her head, trying to calm her. It was only marginally effective; she stopped her stomping, but her eyes were frantic, darting between Keefe and the ground and the area surrounding, sniffing the air, exhaling heavily.
Keefe glanced to her in question. Asking what was wrong.
Silveny. What’s wrong?
MONSTER! KEEFE! PROTECT!
I--what? What are you talking about? To Keefe she said, “Something about monsters. I think she’s trying to protect you.”
SMELL! MONSTER! PROTECT KEEFE!
Turning towards the panicked alicorn, he smiled slightly, nervously. “Thanks, but I’m good. You don’t need to protect me. You need to protect yourselves and your family. I’ve got other people to have my back.”
Silveny wouldn’t relent, her motherly concern boiling over and exploding from within her too-caring heart. Pressing forward, she tried to snap at Keefe’s wings, biting at the feathers.
They pulled back, snapping shut behind him just before she could reach as he sat up fully, backing away from her.
Oh.
Keefe.
Monster.
He was the monster she was scenting.
Silveny didn’t seem to understand anything Sophie tried to explain. Not until she told her that biting those wings, the monster, would hurt Keefe. Then she stopped trying.
But she didn’t give up, convinced there was something she could do to protect him from some creature, not understanding it was him she scented.
“I didn’t realize just how much our scents had changed. I mean, I know Ro told us but--” he cut off, still slightly shaken, expression drawn. Luna still curled around him, but the wings were tight to his back now, significantly darker. More shadowed. Haunted.
Silveny refused to leave his side, pressed close to him in the grass. Sophie had kept her own wings tucked in close, flat against her back. It felt unnatural, like they wanted to remain spread, but she could do it easy enough. Keefe’s were so much more obvious, that’s what’d tipped the alicorns off. Hers could be hidden, discreet. Anything to prevent more disruption, to worsen that aura of hurt lingering around Keefe, the one he was trying so hard to pretend didn’t even exist.
Sophie couldn’t think of anything to say, instead staying silent.
Distraction. They needed a distraction. That’s why they’d come all the way out here, although she didn’t know where that was. To have fun. Relax. Ignore everything else for just a single moment.
You know what? Fuck it.
Hey, Silveny? Want to fly?
Head perking up, her eyes focused on Sophie.
FLY? FLY? FLY?
She nodded, debating how she was going to navigate this. Yeah. Fly! Her shoulder could probably take it. She’d regret it tomorrow, but it wasn’t tomorrow yet.
“What are you saying to her,” Keefe hissed, leaning back a bit as Silveny’s wings began to flap slightly, rising from her sitting position to towering about the two of them sitting before her. Even Sophie felt as though she could feel the waves of excitement radiating off her, and she wasn’t even the empath. Keefe’s eyes were slightly clouded, like he was sorting through something before coming back to himself.
Sophie brushed him off. “You asked me to trust you when coming here, now it’s your turn to trust me.”
“That is so unnecessarily cryptic, Foster.” She stared at him. “Okay, alright. Point taken.”
Silveny bent down, expecting the two of them to climb atop her back, but Sophie shook her head. Keefe’s eyes widened and he slowly turned to look at her, mouth comically agape, like he was questioning whether her mind still worked properly. Probably not.
No. We’re gonna do this a little differently this time, okay? Trust me.
DIFFERENT FLY? TRUST? DIFFERENT FLY?
Shaking out her hands, trying to dispel the nerves, she nodded. Yep. Trust us. You go ahead and we’ll join you.
It took a minute or two more of explanation, but finally the stubborn alicorn relented, her family following behind. Taking off into the sky, the four of them began to circle a few dozen feet about the ground, moving around the two of them left on the ground.
“Are you serious? You’re really--are you sure?” he asked, hands on either side of his head, fingers digging into his scalp as his eyes remained oh so open, scanning her from head to toe.
She shrugged, turning away as she straightened her clothes out; the fabric had bunched and remained full of grass. “Want to join them or not?”
“Well--uh--you know--ah--we can’t--why…” Sophie looked to him over her shoulder, realizing he truly was stunned. Entirely at a loss for words.
“Hey, you don’t have to, you know. You’ll be fine either way. Nothing will happen.”
He rolled his eyes at her, insulted. Of course he would follow her, he just couldn’t believe who she’d become. The decisions she made so casually that would’ve sent her spiraling into anxiety before. Part of her didn’t believe it either, pretended nothing had happened at all.
Crouching down slightly, she gathered her energy for a moment before leaping into the sky, wings snapping out behind her. Steadily, she made her way into the sky, turning back to see Keefe.
His wings beat steadily behind him--he must’ve practiced, she realized with a start. Light grey feathers shivering in the wind as he caught up to her, color staining his cheeks already.
“See? Everything’s okay,” she whispered, unsure whether she was comforting herself or him. Either way, he smiled in return, chaotically bumping into her with his shoulder, nearly tumbling out of the sky in the process. Hiding her wince, she smiled wider. Yeah, that injury did not like all this movement, but she’d never been known to listen to her body.
“Yeah. Okay. We’re okay.”
With each beat, it grew easier. The tightness in her chest eased, her smile gradually felt true. Every time she took to the sky she landed more skilled, more aware of her own body. They worked in tandem, the two of them. Her and the wings.
SOPHIE! KEEFE! FLY!
The impatient alicorn had darted down and was now flying in concentric, tightening circles around the two of them, whining in excitement.
Yeah, Mama. Fly. Silveny let out a shriek of excitement, tumbling through the air, her two little trouble makers coming up beside them to butt into their legs, testing their balance.
Sophie moved much more sporadically than the five of them, rhythmically shifting in the sky while they moved steadily; something about their wings having feathers and hers being insect-based, she assumed. But she didn’t want to do any thinking right now.
Right now there were four alicorns and someone she loved right beside her, laughing and intertwining and dipping through the sky.
Keefe waved frantically, drawing her attention. “Foster! Look!” Wynn hovered beside him in the air, and on some unknown signal both of them snapped their wings shut, gravity taking them by the hand and dragging them down head first, dozens upon dozens of feet rushing past in a few moments as the ground grew nearer and nearer.
At the last possible second, they both opened their wings, pure white feathers catching the wind as they pulled a sharp turn, skimming the top of the grass before the momentum sent them rocketing back into the sky, looping around to come to a mostly steady pause in the air.
“Why? Why would you do such a thing,” she managed, clutching her chest. She’d trusted him, but watching him drop headfirst, unprotected, had ignited some visceral panic, adrenaline humming through her veins, making it slightly more difficult to maintain her position in the sky.
KEEFE FLY! KEEFE FLY! KEEFE FLY! Silveny cheered in her mind, but Sophie tried to ignore the pestering. Greyfell seemed to be occupying most of her attention anyways.
“Aww, what? Do you care about me or something?” he teased, circling back around to her, squishing his cheeks between his palms.
Swatting at him, she glitched back a little, wings buzzing and failing to hide her grin. “Unfortunately, I’m invested in your physical and mental well-being, you dumbass.”
Keefe scrunched his nose up at her, pressing in close and grabbing her by the wrist, drawing her away slightly, leading her through loops in the air. He let go eventually, realizing it was much more difficult when holding on to someone, the same way running was so difficult when holding someone else's hand.
She missed the warmth of his skin, though. Missed it desperately.
Music. In a human film, there’d be soft, soothing music playing over a montage of the two of them whirling through the sky, the sound of their laughter cutting through when Sophie’s shirt rode up and the fabric got bunched on her face, when Keefe tried to stay low and fell from the sky, instead ending up rolling through the grass.
Everything was okay, just like they’d said. Like they’d promised. All she could hear was Keefe’s voice, his ringing laughter, and all she could see was his smile, the blinding, near glow of his bone-white feathers.
They let the time pass.
They stopped trying to stop it.
Hey--where are you? Fitz interrupted her as she darted around an alicorn wing, testing her own agility.
Hmm? she replied, startled.
I asked where--
Oh. Mind processing what he’d said a few seconds later, she interrupted him. I don’t know. Keefe took us here.
She could’ve sworn Fitz was mentally trying to strangle her, shake some sense into her. Sophie took the brief moment of silence to slow down, coming to a hover as she closed her eyes, focusing on the conversation. It was hard to escape her body with the pounding in her shoulder, but she managed.
Alright, he said finally, clearly distracted with something on his end. Can you come back, please? Did you even tell anyone you were leaving? What are you even doing--you know what? Later. Just...I need you. Please.
Wings rushed rhythmically beside her, Keefe having noticed her distraction and coming to make sure she didn’t tumble from the sky. How considerate.
Are you okay? Heart skipping a bit, she resisted the urge to pull at her eyelashes. It was that brief moment before disaster, that poignant pause where the next few words would determine whether the adrenaline kicked in in full or her panic would waiver and they’d laugh about it later. Those few seconds before it set in where you tried to figure out if it was real.
He hesitated. I--I don’t know. Is it even possible to be okay right now?
Okay, okay, she consoled, instincts kicking in. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be there, okay? I promise. Don’t do anything stupid, please. We’re coming.
Yeah...okay.
The connection cut out and she opened her eyes, disoriented for a moment. Keefe was grimacing, shaking his hands out, trying to dispel something.
“What’s got you all anxious, Foster?” Ah. Right. He could feel the sudden souring of her mood.
Moving away from him, towards the alicorns, she called over her shoulder. “We need to go. Fitz asked for us to come back and he sounded really upset.”
Keefe started for a moment then followed after. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. But he wants us back so we’re going back.”
“Okay, yeah. Yeah let’s go.” he repeated himself a few times, and Sophie swore if she were an empath she’d feel the same waves of dread and anxiety rolling off of him as he felt from her.
Silveny, Keefe and I need to leave. You and your family need to go back to wherever you’re safest, okay? I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.
KEEFE! SOPHIE! STAY! She begged, sounding like she wanted to kidnap the two of them and steal them away permanently, convinced she could protect them.
She shook her head, curled up in the air beside the alicorn, cradling her head between her hands, pressing their foreheads together. We can’t, mama. But you need to stay safe. We’ll see you again soon.
SEE SOPHIE SOON!
Yeah! We won’t wait so long next time.
SEE KEEFE SOON! Silveny playfully bumped into Sophie, circling away to do the same to Keefe, who said much of the same as she had, wishing her well and promising to visit sometime.
Neither of them knew if they’d be able to keep that promise.
Wynn and Luna butted against them too, demanding a few last pets and snuggles before they followed behind their parents, Greyfell unexpectedly brushing wings with Keefe in farewell before they vanished into the void with one last message.
SOPHIE SAFE! KEEFE SAFE! STAY SAFE!
It was useless to wait here any longer, but they both hesitated for a single moment, long enough to take a breath. To watch the grass shiver in the breeze, the pollen dance through the air.
Offering Keefe her hand, Sophie conjured the clearest image she could of the gnomish village, the way it looked from up above. Their fingers intertwined and Sophie stopped beating those wings, letting herself fall into a dead drop just as Keefe had, but this time they didn’t catch themselves: they plummeted into the void.
Humidity condensed into clouds, obscuring her vision. Apparently her best image of above the village was from that dragon fight, much higher than she realized. The two of them descended in slow, coiling circles, both of them wishing they could go faster but not sure if they should risk it.
Wylie waved at them as they landed from a bridge a little ways away, so she waved back.
We’re back; where are you? Hand dropping back to her side, she resolved that if he didn’t respond within the next fifteen seconds she was tracking him down.
She reached ten before his voice filled her head.
My...house, he said, unsure what to call it just like the rest of them.
Biting her lip, she glanced to Keefe. “Do you know where Fitz is staying?”
He nodded, taking the lead. A stab of guilt threaded its way through the lining of her stomach, coiling around her ribs and squeezing tight. How shameful that she’d gotten so caught up in her own life, her own troubles, that she didn’t even know where he was staying.
Leading her through a series of bridges and turns, a cottage came into view, slanted and twisted around the side of a tree, a spiral of stairs leading towards a splintered door left agape, a pattern of slashes in the front that she forced herself to remove from her mind.
It was the highest building in the village, roof open to the sky.
No creaks or groans came from the stairs as she practically ran up them, imagining the worst of possibilities, heart lagging behind, stumbling with dread. Keefe was only a moment behind, cursing as his feathers snagged on a tear in the railing.
Tentatively, she knocked on the door, but when no response came she just pushed inside.
“Fitz? You alright?” she called out, glancing around the area. Gasping, she let the door swing behind her. The room was in chaos, papers strewn about the floor, his bag discarded near a beanbag chair, spilling empty vials and snack bars onto the ground.
A shuffling came from upstairs--there was an upstairs? Fitz tumbled into the room a few moments later, disheveled, like he hadn’t realized they were actually coming.
Keefe let out a low whistle. “Okay, buddy. What the fuck.”
Fitz was picking at his lip, distracted, frantically scanning the papers on the floor like he was looking for something. “Hmm. Yea,” he responded absentmindedly.
Sophie was too busy scanning him from head to toe, searching every inch for sign of injury or distress. His knuckles were red and raw, his hair sticking out in every possible direction like he’d been running his hands through it, pulling at it.
“What did you need?” she asked, voice soft and gentle. Something was wrong. Something was eating eating eating at him enough that he’d asked her to come.
Fitz exhaled heavily, reaching up to run his hands down his face, then dropped them to his sides. “I don’t know,” he whispered, clenching his jaw. “It doesn’t make any sense.” he was picking at his lip again, arm shaking.
She tried again. “Well, maybe if you tried describing it, we could figure--”
“No.” He had turned around, lowering himself to the floor, collecting the papers and starting to place them in some sort of order. Where had he gotten paper? He glanced at her guiltily. “Sorry. That sounded rude. I didn’t mean--I’m sorry. I don’t mean that I don’t know what the problem is, the problem is that I don’t know. I don’t understand this. I keep--I keep going over what we know, organizing it into notes and sections and treating it like a goddamned homework assignment but I just...the pieces don’t fit together. And there are so many loose strings and things to tie up and come back to and I can’t get that information, which just makes it--”
“O-kay, babe. Let’s slow down there for a hot second,” Keefe interrupted, lowering himself next to Fitz. Fitz slumped, all the air rushing out of his body seemingly at once, expression softening into delicate pain.
Sophie just stood there for a moment before shaking herself out of it, kneeling on the floor beside him, taking the papers from his hand. It was just pages upon pages of notes, scribbled diagrams besides carefully organized and sectioned observations, notes about the wings and the creatures, notes about the little echo and the way Tam’s eyes had changed.
“Here,” he said, handing her a book on top of it all. “That’s what I’ve been working on.”
Oh. It was the book. The monster book. The journal they’d all started who knew how long ago, a collection of notes and things known about the various creatures they’d encountered so far. Their behaviors, their traits, the noise they made if any.
She’d forgotten they’d brought it along.
He clearly hadn’t.
“Okay,” she said, trying to collect herself. “What is...what have you been working on?” His thoughts were so disjointed, something occupying his mind so intensely he wasn't speaking clearly. Hard as she tried she couldn’t make sense of it.
Fitz gestured like it was obvious. “I’m trying to solve it. The wings.” He scooted closer to her, reaching out to flip through the pages to a new section.
A section...about all of them.
It felt so very wrong and off-putting, seeing themselves beside all those horrid things in that book. But she shook it off. Not now.
“Solve? What do you mean ‘solve?’” Keefe asked, leaning in closer to see the pages, quickly turning away when he caught a glimpse of a few sketched feathers, all in various shades of grey.
Fitz groaned, rubbing at his face again. “I can’t--I can’t explain it, okay? It just--it doesn't want to make sense. I swear it makes sense. There’s just--I’m just missing something and then I’ll figure it out and--there’s an explanation somewhere. If I just find it then we can--”
“We can what, Fitz?” Keefe asked, painfully soft.
He went quiet. His fingers curled, nails digging into his face until Sophie reached out to pull them away, lacing her fingers through his own. The movement aggravated her shoulder but she ignored it, letting out only the smallest sound. It didn’t matter. He was crying.
Keefe moved closer and began rubbing his back, the space between the protruding wings, telling him to breathe, the instruction accompanied by a wince of his own as all of Fitz’s...whatever it was hit him, flooding through his mind, visible on his face. But he just shook it off, continuing the slow circular motions.
“I don’t even know what I’m trying to do,” he laughed, hollow. His fingers tightened around Sophie’s before relaxing, falling into his lap. “We’ve already messed everything up. There’s no coming back from this. I don’t even know why I’m trying.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Sophie said, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand. “We’re still trying. We’re always going to try--it’s what we do, right? Together. All of us. That’s how we work. That’s us. I like it that way.” She had no idea what to say.This was so...unexpected. Out of nowhere. Or maybe she just hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should’ve been.
He hummed half-heartedly in response, cheeks flooding red. Keefe absentmindedly reached up to brush a stray piece of hair from Fitz’s forehead, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.
“You should listen to Foster; she knows what she’s talking about most of the time.”
Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but Fitz was smiling slightly. “Yeah...she usually does. I guess that’s why I asked for you.”
“You don’t need a reason to ask for me,” she reminded him, letting go of his hand to flop back against the hard wood of the floor, the sound of something clattered to the ground accompanied it. But she didn’t notice, flinching as she hit her shoulder, staring towards the sloped ceiling, the veins of vines curving around the roof. Like the ones that had trapped that creature.
A pang of guilt overwhelmed her for a moment, almost enough to take her breath away. She still hadn’t told anyone about that. But she turned her attention back to the situation at hand. Keefe was looking at her funny, but he shook himself off and turned away.
Fitz shifted forward, flopping down on the floor beside her, wings spreading beneath him to accommodate for the shift. She couldn’t imagine it was comfortable, but he seemed fine.
“I know,” was all he said.
Keefe frowned. “Well now I feel a little left out. Do I get to join the cuddle session?” Fitz laughed, a real laugh, patting the open space to his right, inviting Keefe in.
When Keefe joined, Fitz was sandwiched between the two of them, the three of them looking off at nothing, pretending they didn’t notice the way their skin brushed against each other. No one spoke, the echoing of their heartbeats more than enough to fill the passing time.
They had responsibilities, yes. But this mattered more. Her friends, her family, would always matter more.
Fitz’s breathing evened out, the tension draining from his muscles. Whatever distressed frenzy he’d been in when they arrived started to ebb, his pulse slowed.
Sophie counted each beat, the three of them combined, still unnerved that she could even hear their hearts. Fitz’s hand was playing with her hair, rearranging it around her face as he lay beside her, oh so careful not to jostle her shoulder, the bandages. They’d shifted at some point, Sophie now more atop his wing so she could be closer to his body, Keefe the same on the other side. He was fiddling with Fitz’s hand, pulling at his fingers and tracing the lines with his palm.
“Thanks for coming,” Fitz whispered, breaking the long silence.
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t have to come,” he explained, not looking at either of them. “But thank you. I..I needed this. Someone.”
Keefe rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at the two of them. “We’re always going to be here when you need us, Avery.” Fitz rolled his eyes at him, smiling.
“Just…” Sophie began, pausing and restarting. “Thanks for reaching out. Instead of dealing with it on your own. Thanks for letting us in.” He blinked, like he hadn’t thought of it that way before.
Keefe pushed himself up further, looking over at something, drawing both of their attention. “Hey, uh. Foster? You’re getting some messages.” Her imparter--oh, that must’ve been what the noise was. It had fallen from her pocket, discarded somewhere on the floor--she’d turned off the vibrations and sound so she wouldn’t hear it if someone said anything. It was stupid, she knew, but she hadn’t known what else to do.
Exhaling, she closed her eyes. Yeah. She should deal with those now. Nodding to herself, she pushed herself into a sitting position, bearing her weight on her good arm. Keefe lowered himself back down next to Fitz.
One thing at a time.
Reaching over, she grabbed her imparter, bringing it to her lap so she could see it better.
Her mouth fell open. Fitz was watching her carefully, messing with Keefe’s hair and trying to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t observing her every move, gauging her reaction.
“How bad?” Keefe asked, head resting on his arms.
Sophie didn’t even respond, sitting up straighter and thumbing open the device, going straight to her messages. The most recent ones.
“Elwin--he messaged me.” She blurted out, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
They both stopped moving.
“He says he wants to meet up. Secretly. Just--just with him.” Trembling, she turned the screen around so they could read it.
Sophie. I don’t know what’s going on with you or your friends, but please let me help. I want nothing but the best for you and I can’t help you if you’re hidden. I’m not asking you to reveal your secrets, but let me in just enough to patch you up. I don’t need all the answers, but I won’t sleep well until I know I’ve done everything I can. You have injuries left untreated.
But it was the last part of the message that really stunned her.
No one knows I’m sending this, so don’t let them know. We can keep this just between us. You’re a strong, independent young woman, but I hope you’ll accept my help.
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batfam-rewrites · 4 years
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Batfam During Quarantine: 27 Minutes
Dick: Good morning adopted dad!
Bruce: *grunts*
Tim: Bruce is so stressed out. Yesterday I watched him stare at a page load for 1 second and he screamed his head off. He almost destroyed the computer.
Jason: I literally saw him counting grey hairs the other day. Whatever it is it must be Tim’s fault.
Tim: Don’t you blame this on me....
Dick: *speaks over Tim* Okay so anyway, here’s the challenge, *speaks a bit lower* first person to make Bruce smile gets to drive the Batmobile on their next patrol.
Cassandra: Awesome, how do we decide who.......
Jason: *walks over to Bruce*
Cassandra: Never mind.
Jason: Hey Bruuuuuce.
Bruce: *glares at Jason while slurping coffee*
Jason: Want some breakfast? *turns on stove* How about some eggs!
Bruce: What do you want?
Jason: Nothing! Just to see my *pauses a bit* old man smile.
Bruce: I will shank you.
Jason: Loving this new color on you? You should be pissed off all the time.
Bruce: Go away.
Jason: Okay......d.....d...da...
Alfred: Don’t burst a blood vessel Jason.
Jason: No, I can do this. Da......d.a....dad *sighs and puts his hand on the stove* AHHH, FUCKER!
Bruce: Jason, are you okay!
Jason: GET AWAY FROM ME, I CAN DO THIS BY MYSELF BRUCE! *quickly runs to the bathroom to run cold water over his hand*
Duke: Well that was entertaining!
Cassandra: *lays head on Bruce’s shoulder and hugs him*
Bruce: *hugs Cassandra back but no smile*
Damian: Father, I brought you a gift. *pulls out a picture of the entire batfamily together*
Bruce: *Bruce smiles* Thanks Damian, that’s really thoughtful of you.
Damian: *turns towards everyone and points* YES SUCK IT LOSERS!
Daily Briefing
Dick: Okay, so we have reached a low point of criminal activity for Gotham City which is a good thing.
Cassandra: A bit funny how it took a pandemic to make Gotham a bit peaceful.
Dick: Exactly my point. Now, with that said, we will still be doing patrols starting at 11. Tim, this is your week on sanitation duty. Throughout the day we will train a bit harder than normal. There will be scheduled times and you will each have partners. Try to train no less than two and a half hours a day. Training should include sparing, cardio, strength, and tumbling. Try to spar with someone new every week.
Dick: Also Jason, you remember when you said you wish you could fall like me.
Jason: I was being sarcastic.
Dick: I will finally be teaching you how to do pommel horse 1 hour a week like you asked.
Jason: I will kill you.
Duke: Being honest, I’d like to try high bar and floor. I feel it will be very beneficial for me in the long run.
Dick: Awesome! You got it. Now everyone has until tomorrow to pick their partner, I know my partner will be Jason. 
Jason: Fuck you.
Dick: Also, last thing before I make the training schedules and routines, I need to address something. There are quite a lot of people in Gotham City still refusing to wear mask. During the day lets try to hand out mask with our own designs on them to everyone who we come across during the day. I already ordered them and they should be here by Saturday, so that is something we will be doing starting next week. 
*alarm sounds off in the batcave*
Alfred: It would seem there is a fire at Wayne Tower on the thirty-second floor.
Dick: Alright, Duke, Jason, and I will go to check it out. Everyone else do what you would normally do.
Tim and Bruce
Tim: Hey Bruce, I brought you some coffee!
Bruce: How many cups have you had?
Tim: Three large cups.
Bruce: After......
Tim: *mumbles* The five cups I had with breakfast.
Bruce: There we go.
Tim: Okay so what are we doing?
Bruce: Someone is trying to hack into my server. If they do so they will have unlimited knowledge of the companies upcoming projects, along with the identities of our persona’s.
Tim: How long do we have?
Bruce: 27 minutes. Try to locate the hackers location.
Nightwing, Red Hood, and The Signal
They all rushed to the thirtieth floor to help out and find that the firemen are ready to head to the floor. The three heroes turned on their oxygen tanks and they charged in with the firefighters. Half of the entire floor was covered in flames. They noticed a conference room with a few people inside and Jason rushed to the door, pulling out his guns. He shot the door several times before kicking it down and escorting the people out. After that there wasn’t much left for them to do so they went back down. 
Fire Officer: Nightbird, that is the dumbest thing I have ever seen anyone do.
Jason: *laughs*
Dick: Thanks.
Fire Officer: Lets get you all checked.
Jason: The mask stay on though.
Alfred and Julia
Alfred: What are we watching
Julia: Well, I thought that with both of us being former spies, I thought we could watch an American film franchise called Mission Impossible.
Alfred: And tear it apart by it’s inaccuracies!
Julia: Yes!
Alfred: Sounds wonderful!
Nightwing, Red Hood, and The Signal
Time- 19:37
Medic: They seem fine, no way of telling for sure though without their mask off.
Duke: So we’re good to go, awesome!
Fire Officer: The fire upstairs has been put out.
Dick: Good.
Tim: Dick, are you still at Wayne Tower?
Dick: Yes, what’s up?
Tim: We’re dealing with a hacker trying to get into the server at Wayne Inc. The hacker is inside the building. We have 16 minutes and 55 seconds......
Dick: Say no more! We’re on it!
Fire Officer: There’s been another fire across town. Lets move out!
Dick: Duke, investigate the fire upstairs. If I’m not mistaken, it should be arson.
Duke: Got it.
Dick: Jason, stay here there is a hacker inside the building, You have 16 minutes to find the person or else Batman is doomed.
Jason: I guess I’ll look. 
Dick: GO! NOW!
Jason: Got it Nightbird!
Nightwing
Dick follows the fire fighters down to the floor and tells the guard to let no one in or out of the building. He rides his motor cycle, tailing the fire trucks to the scene of the next fire. He runs into the apartment complex, turning the oxygen tank on. He notices the first floor is clear so he rushes up the stairs to notice the flames stretched out across it. He dives through them and hears pounding on one of the doors. He sees the other residents and grabs two children, takes out his grappling hook, and shoots it towards the ceiling. He leads them down and has them run out of the building. He gets back up to the scond floor and takes the parents and lets them run out as well. When he saw them leave, he jumped back up to the second floor and ran into the door 3 times before finally breaking it down. The flames were now getting closer. He get back up and saw Barbara giving him a hand up.
Barbara: Need some help?
The Signal
Duke: What do you smell?
Fire Marshall: Alcohol.
Duke: Exactly.
Fire Marshall: So.... why did you ask?
Duke: Just wanted to check. Red Hood, Red Robin, Nightwing. Our hunch was right. We have an arsonist inside the building. Some witnesses have said they saw a maintenance worker carrying bottles of vodka in his cart. If I had to assume, both fires are a distraction from finding the hacker meaning there is an accomplice to whoever is in the building.
Jason: Good, now I’m pretty sure I speak for Nightbird when I say this, start helping me search for this bastard.
Duke: On it.
Tim and Bruce
Time- 10:17
Harper: I came as fast as I could.
Bruce: Good, set up your computer.
Harper: Why isn’t Alfred helping?
Bruce: Shut up and get to work.
Harper and Bruce try to fight off the hacker as well as they could. 
Harper: Awesome!
Bruce: Not good enough though.
Tim: What’s up?
Harper: We bought ourselves a few extra minutes.
Tim: Nice.
Time- 13:38
Nightwing and Batgirl
Dick: Damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes!
Barbara: Come on! We have one more floor!
The two rush to get the last residents out of the building. The flames were starting to be extinguished by the fire fighters outside of the building. Parts of the ceiling began to collapse as they made it to the top floor. Grabbing the residents they set them down on the floor and rushed to the exit, only to find it blocked by parts of the ceiling.
Dick: Stand back! Batgirl, help me clear the exit.
The two move the rubble out of the way and the residents flee the building. Both ask the authorities if they needed help, but were turned down. When the fire was put out, both walked in, and under the heavy smell of smoke, was also the scent of alcohol.
Red Hood and The Signal
Time- 8:47
Jason was on the twentieth floor, searching, when he got the announcement.
Tim: THE HACKER IS ON THE FORTY-FOURTH FLOOR!!!
Jason: Signal, where are you?
Duke: Fortieth!
Jason: I’ll see you on the forty-four! 
Jason rushed up the stairway and ran up to the forty-fourth floor to see Duke there taking on three men. Jason then pulled out his pistols and shot all three with non-lethal rounds. 
Duke: Had to take away my fun, didn’t you?
Jason: Yes! 
Tim: Did you guys get them?
Duke: All hostiles are taken down.
Tim: Awesome!
Alfred, Julia, Stephanie, Cassandra, and Selina
Alfred: Why would he choose the safe house. If this were reality Ethan would have already been arrested.
Stephanie: Alfred, we love you to death, but your ruining an amazing movie.
Julia: The movie ruined itself by it’s inaccuracies. Plus this is our bonding time, you guys weren’t even invited!
Selina: Yeah, but you guys took the only copy and once we saw you watching it, we just really wanted to watch it, too.
Harper: Oh, cool! Mind if I join?
Alfred: *sighs* The more the merrier.
Nightwing and Batgirl
Dick: Alright, our guy lives in apartment 22 on 1807 Zics Street. Let’s head there now and see if we can find him.
Barbara: Lets head there. Want to get something to eat after?
Dick: Definitely.
Dick and Barbara get on their motorcycles and drove to the apartment where they found the arsonist. They tied him to a lamppost and Barbara informed the GCPD the location of the arsonist.
 Dick: So, how has your dad been doing?
Barbara: Not too bad. He’s been a bit under pressure but he’s doing fine. How is it being a dad at the mansion?
Dick: Ohhh god. I had the thought once and decided to leave that duty to Alfred. 
Barbara: *Barbara laughs*
Dick: I help him a bit. It’s been so difficult acting like a grown up. I had to seriously step in when Alfred called Jason “Master Todd”
Barbara: Please explain further?
Dick: Well, because Jason is, well, Jason, he lost his shit because he’s “not a snooty ass rich motherfucker, Alfred!”
Barbara: Damn, I could so see that.
Dick: Yeah, and it doesn’t help that Bruce totally lost the ability to interact with other people. The other day Damian was acting up and Bruce picked him up and shouted “WHERE’S THE OFF BUTTON!”
Barbara: *laughs harder*
Dick: *laughs himself* You should have been there, it was funnier in person.
The two stare at the sky for a bit as they watch the sun set. Barbara leans her head on Dick’s shoulder and they both relax. 
Dick: I love you Babs.
Barbara: I love you too, Dick.
Dick
They both left the rooftop they were sitting on at around 8:30. Dick had missed Barbara so much and was glad to have been able to see her. He didn’t care he broke one of Bruce’s rules. It wasn’t like Bruce was going to remember anything from the first week anyway. He got into the batcave and began creating workouts for everyone. He then went to the bathroom and took a shower in the batcave, and then went upstairs. He walked into the media room to see Alfred and Julia spending time as a family.
Dick: Aw, isn’t this sweet!
Julia: Get the fuck out Dick!
Dick: Damn, okay.
Dick then walked into the kitchen to see everyone in there.
Tim: Someone took long getting back to the mansion.
Stephanie: What happened.
Dick: I met up with Babs.
Everyone: WHAT!!!!
Damian: No fair. If I knew I could have been with Jon this entire time I would have!
Selina: You’re not able to Damian, and you knew you weren’t suppose to interact with anyone outside of the mansion.
Dick: Chill. Everything is fine. We’re more likely to get sick on patrol then by hanging out with each other. What’s up with Alfred and Julia?
Jason: They got tired of everyone ruining their family bonding time so they kicked us out.
Dick: That makes sense.
There was a knock at the door, so Dick goes to open it.
Dick: Helloooo...............
Helena: Hey Dick, you look great!
Dick slams the door shut and covers the door.
Jason: *shoves Dick to the side and opens the door* Hey, Helena! It is so awesome to see you! What are you doing here?
Helena: I’m here to stay and help. Where should I put my bags?
Jason: You could put them in Dick’s room for right now! You remember where that is, right?
Helena: Yep!
Dick: coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool. *starts falling to the floor*
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felicia-cat-hardy · 3 years
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Max Minghella On 'The Handmaid's Tale,' His Dad, Romance, & 'Spiral'
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Max Minghella is sitting in his backyard in the LA sunshine, his t-shirt an homage to the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve, his adopted shepherd mix, Rhye, excited by the approach of a package courier.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks — the dog, not me — tenderly.
Minghella, who at 35 has dozens of screen credits to his name, is best known as The Handmaid’s Tale’s cunning chauffeur Nick Blaine, a character who it’s difficult to imagine saying sweetheart. In airless Gilead, of course, a cautious hand graze with Elisabeth Moss’ June can pass for a big romantic gesture. In a Season 1 episode featuring child separation and hospital infant abduction, Nick’s major contribution is to trade stolen glances with a sex slave while “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” pumps discordantly along. I ask Minghella about playing the series’ closest approximation to a dreamy male lead against the show’s dark narrative of female subjugation.
“I know this is not the answer you want to hear,” Minghella says with none of Nick’s hesitation. ���But I like that stuff, right? In the pilot, I think Nick only had a handful of lines. It wasn't clear that this is what the character would turn into. And it's quite fortunate for me personally, because I'm not a massively sort of intellectual person in my real life. I love Fifty Shades of Grey. That's like my Star Wars. It suits me to play a character like him.”
Minghella surmises that this enduring romanticism is an outcome of nurture. His father, the late British director Anthony Minghella, made grand romantic dramas like Cold Mountain and The English Patient. And there was the young, cinema-mad Max sitting on the living room sofa, absorbing everything. “It’s taken me a long time to understand this,” he says of his prolonged childhood exposure to love stories. “My dad made The English Patient when I was 10. So it was two years of watching the dailies to that movie and then watching 50 cuts of it. And then [The Talented Mr.] Ripley he made when I was 13, and it was the same thing.” These were an adolescent Max Minghella’s alternative to reruns. “I think they did shape my perspective on the world in a lot of ways, specifically The English Patient. That was a complicated love story, and I wonder sometimes how much it's affected my psychology.”
Some sons rebel; others resemble. Minghella’s co-star O-T Fagbenle, who plays June’s other lover from before the time of Gilead, got his first job acting in Anthony Minghella’s romantic crime film Breaking and Entering. “Anthony is one the kindest, most beautiful men that I've ever had the privilege of working with before,” Fagbenle says. “And Max has his gorgeous, sensitive, open-minded soul.”
Though Minghella spent his childhood on the set of The Talented Mr. Ripley, playing an uncredited Confederate soldier role in Cold Mountain, and tooling around with a Super-8 camera Matt Damon gave him, he insists his upbringing was normal. He grew up in South Hill Park overlooking Hampstead Heath in London with his father and mother, the choreographer Carolyn Choa. (Minghella also has a half-sister, Hannah Minghella, who is now a film executive.) Yes, technically, it was London, but that’s not how it seemed. “I feel like I grew up in a very small town. Every school I went to was in Hampstead. I was born in Hampstead,” Minghella says of the small map dot of his life before university. “When I went to New York, I felt I was going to the big city.”
Despite his illustrious surname, movie-watching was far from restricted to the classics. “Beverly Hills Cop is definitely the movie I remember having an unhealthy obsession with. I think I saw it when I was 5 for the first time, and I'd watch it just two or three times a day for years. I'm just obsessed with it.”
Plenty of actors can trace their love of movies back to a love of stories, but for Minghella the relationship seems to flow in reverse. When he left for Columbia University, Minghella opted to study history for its connection, through storytelling, to film. It was during the summers between his years of college that he started taking acting more seriously. Before his graduation, he’d already appeared in Syriana, starring Damon and George Clooney. Soon, he’d make a splash as Divya Narendra in The Social Network in 2010 and be cast in Clooney’s Ides of March. As all young actors eventually must, Minghella moved to Los Angeles.
It’s been over a decade since he last lived on the Heath, but, perhaps unusually for a person who’s chosen his profession, Minghella is adamantly not a “shapeshifter,” in his words. Home for Christmas this year, he started sifting through old journals stored at his mother’s house, “just like scraps of writing from when I was extremely young up through my teenage years,” before coming to America. “It was hilarious to me,” Minghella says of staring at his childhood reflection. “My review of a movie at 7 years old is pretty much what my review of a movie at 35 will be. My taste hasn't changed much. And when I sort of love something, I do tend to continue to love it.”
Which brings us back to his enduring love of romance, born of his bloodline, which is all over Minghella’s own 2018 directorial debut. Teen Spirit is a hazily lit film about a teenage girl from the Isle of Wight — the remote British island where Max’s father Anthony was born — who enters a local X-Factor-style singing competition. (It stars Minghella’s rumored girlfriend of several years, Elle Fanning.) The story is small, but its crescendos are epic.
Minghella calls the movie — an ode to the power of the pop anthem — “embarrassingly Max.” Max loves a good music-driven movie trailer — he’s watched the one for Top Gun: Maverick “many” times. And Max loves the rhythmic beats of sports movies like Friday Night Lights. Max loves movies with excesses of female energy, like Spring Breakers. He likens Teen Spirit to an experiment, his answer to the question, “Can I take all these things that I love and find a structure that can hold them?” The result is a touching “hodgepodge” of Minghella’s fascinations, inspired by the songs from another thing he loves: Robyn’s 2010 album Body Talk (itself a dance-pop meditation on love).
Minghella hasn’t directed any films since, but he sees now how making movies fits his personality — organized, impatient — more organically than starring in them does. Directing also helped him to appreciate that acting is “much harder than I was giving it credit for,” which, in turn, has made him like it more. Besides The Handmaid’s Tale currently airing on Hulu, Minghella appears in Spiral, the ninth installment in the Saw horror franchise and, from where I’m sitting, at least, a departure.
“I do like horror movies, but the thing that was really kind of magical is that I was feeling so nostalgic, right? We talked about Beverly Hills Cop earlier. I was just missing a certain kind of movie,” Minghella explains of his new role as Chris Rock’s detective partner. He was yearning for simple story-telling, like in the buddy cop movies of his youth, especially 48 Hours. It almost goes without saying that a buddy cop movie is another kind of love story. “And then I read the script and it was very much in that vein.” He clarifies: “I mean, it's also extremely Saw. It's very much a horror movie.”
His renewed excitement for acting translated onto The Handmaid’s Tale set, too. Veteran Hollywood producer Warren Littlefield describes casting Minghella in the role of Nick as an effortless choice: “Sometimes you agonize over things. [Casting Minghella] was instantly clear to me, and everyone agreed.” Now in its fourth season, the tone of the Hulu hit is graver than ever. Gilead is more desperate to maintain its rule, and so more audacious in its violence. Perhaps it’s fitting that the show’s romantic gestures finally match that scale.
In one particularly soaring moment, Elisabeth Moss’ June and Minghella’s Nick meet at the center of a bridge and crush into a long kiss. It’s been two seasons since they held their newborn daughter together, and it’s hard to see how this isn’t their last goodbye. Littlefield, like Minghella, is here for the romance among the rubble. “It's spectacular when they come together. In the middle of all of the trauma is this epic love story,” he says. “Max is just magnificent in the role.”
For Minghella, the satisfaction is more personal. He works with good people, he likes his scenes, and he thinks Nick is a complex character. Minghella read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time in college in 2005. Like all the things Minghella has ever liked, he still likes it. He’s as proud of this most recent season as he is the show’s first. And he watched Nick and June race recklessly back to each other across the expanse of the screen exactly how you might expect. “I watched it like a fan girl.”
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idkiwillfindone · 3 years
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Post Sky High part 1
Sumary:
Giorno, Guido, Ungalo and Prada finally reached the little girl's house but there are bad news waiting for them
TW:
Implied child abuse
This is a part two of Post Bohemian Rhapsody
————————————————————
Prada didn’t liked when strangers spoken to her, especially if they didn’t had the courtesy that she deserved, so, naturally, she was really annoyed when a weird man screamed at her for reading too loud, and on top on that the guy even took her book whitot asking. She stayed silent for the rest of flight swearing that she would make him pay for his impudence. But then when they arrived to Key West and she looked over him she realized that the man fell asleep while reading, how could someone find Peter Pan’s story so boring to fall asleep? To her the story seemed so fun and interesting, did this guy just hated fairytales in general? No that was impossible, she loved fairytales, each one of them created new worlds, experiences and memories, she just couldn't imagine someone who hated all fairytales, that guy had to have a favorite story and she was determined to find out which one.
Giorno checked on the rearview mirror of the car, the two guest had fallen asleep hours ago probably tired out by the flight. Guido was next to him peacefully driving, fortunately he hadn’t realized yet that there where four people in the car, their destination was Orlando, the city where Prada lived whit her parents, Giorno didn’t really believed the little girl when she said that the man, during the road trip he learned that his name was Ungalo, was her babysitter and he had reasons to believe that she was actually trying to run away from home, once they would got to her house he would have judged if her parents were worthy of raising a kid, but he played along whit her just to have an excuse to keep the man close. He hadn’t told Guido yet but from the moment he stepped in the airport Giorno felt a weird connection whit him and he was pretty sure that the man was able to see GER, he wanted to know who this Ungalo really was and then decide what to do whit him. “Giogio!” His boyfriend’s brought him back in the present as Giorno saw out of the car Prada’s home... or what was left of it, the whole block of houses was destroyed, the scene was full of policemans and ambulances, it seemed to be in a post apocalyptic film, “what the hell” Giorno muttered, “ugh- what’s going on, are we arrived yet?” he heard from behind his seat, looking again in the rearview mirror he saw Prada and Ungalo stretching out after their long nap, “what the fuck happened here?” Said Ungalo after taking a better look at the outside of the car, “oh god, Giorno” Guido started “it’s because of the four, we are four! How did i not noticed before!” Well there he goes “what is this guy talking about?” Asked Ungalo confused “it’s a long story” Giorno simply replied “listen we’re going to find Prada’s parents, you stay in car sir” the blonde got out of the car whit his partner and the little girl “remember running away is useless” he added before ultimately approaching the rubble.
“Excuse me mister officer” Giorno said to one of the policeman that were scanning the area “can i ask what happened here?” The cop took a deep breath before answering “I’m sure you’re aware of that strange phenomenon that involved the whole world just a bunch of hours ago” “the fictional characters that came to life?” “Yes, Superman came to life in this block and fought whit one of his enemy, leaving twelve injureds and thirtyfive dead” Giorno and Guido shared a worried look aware of what this could mean, “sir we were looking for this little girl parents, she told us that they lived in this zone” the cop crouch down to Prada’s level “hey little miss, can you point me your house?” Prada smiled pleased by respect that the cop was showing her, then she pointed to one of the many pile of rubble, the policeman got up whit sad look on his face he slowly shook his head before returning to his work, The two men looked at each other again, they both silently agreed to let Guido handle the situation with Prada, he was pretty good whit kids after all, “hey little one are you ok?” He gently asked “i don’t have any other relatives that can take care of me” she mumbled “does this mean that I can spend more time whit you two?” Prada continued whit more energy “of course honey, we’ll be by your side through this this difficult time” “sweet! You guys are a lot cooler than my parents, i mean he look like Rapunzel and you have a gun” Prada immediately responded happier than ever “sure, but you don’t have to bottle up your feelings, you can cry if you feel like it” Guido tried again “nah i’m fine, oh! What’s our next stop? A library? McDonald’s? Disneyland? Can we go to Disneyland? I always wanted to visit it” “sure but-” “yey let’s go” the little girl happily ran back to the car excited for what was waiting her for the rest of week “well she got over that quickly” commented Giorno not less surprised than Guido “so... what now?” His boyfriend asked scratching the back of his head “we go to Disneyland, again” the blonde calmly replied “and if Prada really doesn’t has no one that can take care of her we will bring her and her babysitter back in Italy with us” he added as he started to walk to the car “that seams like a plan” concurred Guido.
When the two of them reached the car the first thing that they noticed was that , besides Prada, the vehicle was empty, when Giorno asked her where Ungalo was she simply responded “i don’t know” the blonde scanned the crowd until he found a familiar purple beanie trying to get away from them, Giorno sighed as he summed Gold Experiences Requiem and returns Ungalo’s actions back to zero “what did I tell you about trying to run away?” Giorno asked whit the same tone a father who’s calmly scolds his son would use “oh come on what do you want from me? I heard what that cop said, the brat’s parents are dead, they can’t lecture me for neglecting a task that they didn’t gave me” Ungalo protested “since Guido and i decided to take Prada’s custody we will need you and all the instructions that her parents gave you” That wasn’t one of Giorno’s most brilliant lie but for the moment it would have work “I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THAT KID IS! god! you are just insufferable as my...” Ungalo stopped as the realization of how to escape from this situation came to him “my stupid brothers!” He exclaimed whit new energy “they know that i would never babysit a child because they’re just useless little parasites” now that striked Giorno interest “you have brothers?” “Yea! They’re two, last I saw them they were in an hospital with...” He hesitated again, this time all the joyful mood he had gained disappeared as he remembered about the other man in the hospital, he had fucked up way too many time as kid for forgetting what could happen if he disappointed a person older or stronger than him “Ungalo?” The blonde called “is everything ok?” His voice sounded genuinely worried which just made Ungalo more pissed whit him, this guy had no right to interrupt his depressing childhood memories “yea yea” he quickly dismissed him, Giorno nodded to his response but mentally took note of his behavior “as i was saying” Ungalo restarted “last time I saw them they where in a hospital whit a plan to get rid of a bitch called Jolyne and her friends” “hey Giorno’s great niece is named Jolyne too” interrupted Guido “what weird coincidence” “yep weird, unlike the fact that i don’t give a fuck about Giorno’s family tree” Ungalo remarked in a monotone-passive aggressive tone, the gunslinger decided to keep quiet for the rest of the other man explanation “the closest to our position now should be Rykiel” he lied “alright then, let’s go to find this Rykiel” the blonde respond hopping that this other brother would be more collaborative, “let’s find him quickly” Guido added “we are still four Giorno, we cannot take a risk like this anymore”.
So their next stop was decided and thanks to Ungalo and Rykiel’s family connections it was easy to track the other brother position. Unfortunately for the little girl their trip to Disneyland was delayed. She quietly sat in the backseat looking at the landscape go by, “hey, uh, Prada?” Called Guido from the passenger seat earning her attention, he wanted to do a last tentative to get her to talk about her parents, she had just lost her family the kid had to show some reaction “are you sure that everything is alright? You know, about your parents” “I’m ok, especially cause this means that I don’t have to see my therapist anymore” she responded happily, once again Guido didn’t expected this answer “a therapist?” “Yes, he said that I had to see him twice a week” she promptly explained “he always makes me do all this boring things like speaking about my feelings, talking about the other’s feelings and some more stupid stuff” “sounds like hell” Ungalo commented mostly to himself than anybody in the car “exactly! And everything because one of my teachers snitched on me after i pushed her down the stairs” the car fell silent after Prada’s words said so casually, the three man needed to elaborate them “y-you pushed down the stairs your teacher?” Normally Giorno hated repeat a phrase, it didn’t matter if it was one of his own or someone else’s, but in that moment he really couldn’t find anything else to say “and a girl on a wheelchair” the kid proudly added “the jury gave her the ballet trophy that i wanted” “so let me get this straight” interjected Ungalo “you physically attack two persons” Prada turned over him with an annoyed face, she had this conversation thousands times and it always went the same “yes” she angrily muttered “whitot verbally attacking them first?” Now her expression was a total surprise one, that was definitely new “yes?” The man let out a loud sigh of frustration “goddamit children are so dumb, you cannot physically attack someone right out of the blue like that, you need to make sure that whoever you’re attacking is afraid of you” “Ungalo I don’t think this something you should teach her” intervened Giorno, his normally calm voice betrayed a worry tone, But apparently Prada didn’t agreed whit him “no no why? I want to know how to make people afraid of me” then she turned towars Ungalo whit sparkly eyes “please theach me” “it’s not that hard kid” The man began whitot any trace of hesitation “you just need to find your victims weaknesses, there’s anything that’s making that teacher you attacked vulnerable?” “She was kinda sad for her divorce” “there! That’s something you could have use” Prada stayed quiet listening in awe as the man kept talking, she didn't even remotely expect that this Ungalo would actually be so cool, but it was nice surprise, meanwhile Giorno and Guido sat whit their eyes whide opened while they listened to a twentythree years old man teaching a ten years old how to verbally abuse the people around her, Giorno, Giorno, Giorno! the blonde heard his boyfriend call through his stand yes Guido he responded already knowing what he wanted to say when we’re going to return in Italy we’re going to find a good therapist he stopped only to hear that Ungalo was still going on whit his disturbing explanation for both
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I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
I really wanted to include Rykiel in this chapter here, but it was becoming too long and i’m and the school is draining me from every energy, i swear that he is going to be the first character to appear in the second part. Also I’m sorry if in some parts the story is rushed but has i said school etc
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