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league-of-sam · 9 months

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As Grim as the Reaper | Simon 'GHOST' Riley PREQUEL

Ghost x Reader, Graves x Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Phillip Graves x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

As Grim as the Reaper: Masterlist

Shepherd said you'd be suspended; guess he was right.

Suspended on the grounds of medical aid. Mandated two months' daily two-hour sessions with the resident Special Ops therapist.

That's what the letter you'd received after the review of the cams footage stated. The one that Graves delivered to you personally, and wordlessly.

He could barely look at you since he saw the footage, and you couldn't really blame him. Who would want to look at such a monster?

Because, that's what you were, right?

Only a monster would do what you did.

"Is that what you truly think?"

"Huh?"

Your vacant eyes moved from the blank spot on the wall that you'd been focusing on to land on the woman in front of you.

Mid-40s, auburn hair, beautifully curled. A sleek, white pantsuit. Louboutin's.

A distinguished woman.

"You just said, you think yourself a monster. Why?" she spoke again.

You shivered slightly, concern running through you at the fact that you hadn't even registered that you'd been talking out loud.

"Because I am, aren't I? You saw the footage, you know what I did. It's there in your little file." you responded, gesturing to the brown folder sat on the glass coffee table in between the two of you.

And sat right next to it, was your mask.

Reaper's mask.

Staring at you, taunting you.

"Yes, I did. And what I saw was a woman struggling in grief, whilst doing her job. No monster there."

"I'm a monster!" you said, voice raised to a level that shocked both of you. "I can see it on everyone's face. Shepherd, Laswell, my own fucking fiancé won't even look at me...touch me. He hates me. They all hate me."

"'Monster' is a relative term, (Y/N). To a canary, a cat is a monster. Do you think cats are monsters?"

You shook your head, looking down at your hands in your lap as you sat cross-legged on the sofa. It felt soft under you, cosy, safe.

"Exactly. So, why should I be so inclined to believe that you are?"

"Dunno, Doc."

Drowning in the grief, you didn't do too well with remembering things lately, and so you had been referring to your therapist as 'Doc', not that she minded. She was being patient with you, this was only your first week, after all.

She let out a frustrated sigh, clearly realising this was as much as she was going to get out of you.

"Have you contacted your brother?"

"No."

"What about your friends?"

You scoffed, "Friends?"

"As I understand it, Sergeant Keller is your best friend. That's what you said in our second session, no?"

"He's busy. John too."

"Too busy to know you're hurting?" she questioned.

Yes.

What kind of person would you be if you called up, begging for them to drop everything to be with you? You're not selfish. What they were doing in Mexico was way more important than whatever you were going through.

Task Force 141 were the absolute best of the best, the elite; they didn't need to be pulled apart by some damsel in distress.

"They don't need to know. Can't have them worrying about me when they're dodging bullets from terrorists."

"You understand that you need to have more support around you than just me, don't you, (Y/N)?"

"Got Laswell."

"And your fiancé?" she nodded to your ring, that you were mindlessly spinning around your finger.

The mention of Graves had tears springing to your eyes, and the ache deep within your heart began to burn.

Doc shuffled in her seat, placing down her notes and leaning forward on her chair. She knew she'd found the reason for your uncooperativeness in this session.

"Tell me more about that."

"Fuck, Doc, you're good. I'll give ya that." you sniffed, pulling your ring from your finger and examining it.

You weren't surprised when Phillip Graves presented you with one of the biggest diamonds you'd ever seen. It was encased in glowing silver, the diamond twinkling in the light. Truly, it was absolutely breath-taking, but you were never one for lots of glamour. You were more subtle, opting for dainty jewellery.

But Phillip Graves was a southern show-off.

He wanted everyone to know you were off limits, taken by a man who could look after your every need.

You used to think his protectiveness - possessiveness - of you was endearing, even a little sexy, but now, you started to feel more like an object than a partner.

You didn't want to be the pretty little housewife, the trophy he could proudly present. You wanted to make a difference in the world.

And that difference within the relationship was becoming all too painstakingly clear.

"It's funny how one disaster can bring the cracks of others to the surface, isn't it?" you spoke solemnly, a single tear falling from your eye.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He's staying home more, but we're not talking. The best I get is a cuddle in bed before we sleep. We sit in silence, eat in silence, he comes home from work...nothing. If we do talk, we fight."

"What do you fight about?"

"Everything. The wedding, being a wife. The way he behaved when I came home after...yeah. Don't think he wants me anymore, Doc."

The look she gave you was sympathetic; she obviously wanted nothing more than to reach over and comfort you. You'd stolen her heart, that's for sure. But professionalism had to prevail, you were her patient, not her friend.

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Lost. Like I don't belong anymore. I don't know who I am anymore."

"Grief is hard. It tears you apart and it stays with you forever, you never get rid of it. But that's okay, experiencing grief is a good thing, because it shows you cared. It shows how much the people you lost meant to you. It is normal to lose yourself a little while you work through that."

"I'm scared." You admitted.

"Fear is natural, (Y/N)."

You continued talking to the therapist, touching on the grief you've experienced in your past. The grief of losing your parents so young, the grief of the time John almost died on a mission. The grief of almost dying yourself, and experiencing the time Alex went MIA, presumed dead.

For someone still young, you'd experienced enough grief to last several lifetimes.

And now, you were mourning the loss of your self-made family, with the added guilt of not being able to save them.

"Do you mind if we dial back a little for the last hour of the session? You've been doing fantastically, but something you said has bothered me, and I think we need to address it in order to move forward."

Drying your eyes with the tissues she'd handed you, you looked up with a raised brow.

"I'm not sure what more I can take today, Doc."

"You've done fabulously, Lieutenant, but you mentioned it today, so we will be addressing it today." She firmed.

You took a moment, releasing a breath, "Okay."

"You said, you and your fiancé are not coping. How so? Expand on that for me."

As she spoke, she picked up her notepad once more, crossing one leg over the other. A quick nod to you to signal you to begin talking.

It was the way he looked at you.

The way he physically recoiled when you stepped off the helo, covered in blood. The way he yelled, begging you to tell him what the fuck you'd done, how you'd compromised the entire mission, how you'd compromised yourself.

You knew then that you needed help. Laswell had held you the entire way back as you sobbed, she was the only one you'd let touch you.

And when you got home, you wouldn't let Graves touch you either.

Not when he looked at you like that.

It had been two weeks since then, and he marched through the door, handing you that letter. Tossing it onto your lap before he stormed upstairs, and you heard the shower.

You moved up, opening the door to your shared bedroom slowly, shutting it behind you before slipping on his discarded hoodie.

It still smelt like him, and it made you feel a little warmer inside.

You sat on the bed, legs crossed and picking at your fingernails until he came through the door of the en-suite, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked at you briefly, but didn't say a word, and walked to the opposite side of the room to get ready for bed.

Sighing, you pulled the hood over your head, and climbed into bed, covering yourself as much as possible so he couldn't see the way you squeezed your eyes shut to stop from crying.

The bed dipped behind you as he got in, back facing you.

"Are you gonna go?" He finally spoke.

"Yeah." You whispered back.

"Good. You start tomorrow, then."

"Okay. 'Night."

You pulled your knees up, practically lying in the foetal position in an effort to mask your heavy breathing as tears dripped onto the sleeves of the hoodie.

Graves sighed once more, before rolling over and scooting himself close behind you. Immediately you were warmer from having him close, but the second his arm reached over, slipping around your waist, you flinched, and tried to scoot away.

"Fuck, (Y/N)." He mumbled, "Just let me fuckin' touch you. Please."

"I-I'm s-sorry, I can't-"

"Please baby, lemme hold you, please."

You took deep breaths, desperate to soothe the panic rising within you. You wanted him to touch you, of course you fucking did. You wanted him to hold you and love you. But every time he came near you, you relived that look on his face.

Forcing yourself to relax, you uncurled your legs, and shuffled back until you rested flush against his chest, and the second you touched him, his arms came around you, scooping you up and pulling you in tighter.

He could feel you shaking, and he buried his head into the nape of your neck, pressing light kisses and breathing in your scent, his hands fastening at your waist.

"We'll be okay, right?" You asked, hand locking onto his that rested over your stomach.

He was silent for a while, until he tightened his grip on you once more.

"I don't know."

Doc wrote down everything you said, listening intently as you retold the story of the moment you realised that your relationship was in trouble.

She was quiet, supportive, encouraging.

Everything you needed to feel safe here.

"And that's how I know we're not coping."

"I understand." She said, pursing her lips, "I'm sorry you're experiencing that. Trauma affects people in different ways. For him, he's seeing the woman he loves break, and he doesn't know how to help you. Perhaps he blames himself for that."

"He was there. He knows what happened, and I think he's keeping something from me."

"Then my advice for you is to communicate that. Find the right time, and have a real, serious talk about this. It's the only way we can move you forward. I believe it's the only way you can be yourself again...get back to wearing this."

As she spoke, she gestured to the mask that lay on the table.

It was clean now. It was the first thing to be washed when Laswell got you out of those bloody clothes.

So why could you still see the stains?

Why could you see red every time you looked at it?

There were a lot of things you were unsure of, but this...

No.

You were sure about this.

You couldn't be Reaper anymore. Because she was a monster.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish #phillip graves #graves x reader #ghost x reader

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greenwire · 2 years

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I'm kinda confused by leftists accusing each other of being conservative. "TERFS are conservative!" or "trans activism is conservative!" Conservatives in general tend to not align with either type of leftist, though obviously there are cases of radfems or TRAs working with conservatives to push laws, policy, etc. like, does the accusation actually accomplish anything??

This is a good question. When I use terms like 'liberal' and 'conservative' I'm referring to the dictionary definition of these schools of thought. Liberals believe in the right to self-determination, democracy (consent of the governed), and equality under the law. Conservatives believe in private ownership with limited influence from government, free enterprise, and socially traditional values.

When I talk about "trans political" I'm referring to a very specific type of politically active social media user who happens to hold very conservative beliefs, but self-identifies as liberal or leftist. Not all beliefs espoused by such people are conservative. I don't think anyone would call it conservative to bring back high marginal tax rates or implementing universal healthcare. But these are people with core beliefs, especially relating to how they view those different from themselves, that are actually incredibly regressive.

I grew up in a highly patriarchal, highly sexist society. I was exposed to the idea that women are lesser, that even the strongest woman in the world is weaker than the weakest man, that women are hysterical, emotional crybabies who don't even deserve the right to instigate divorce because they'd all just divorce their husbands on a childish whim. I heard this from family, at school, and on tv. Men would debate how women have gone too far on state television, men would give khutba (sermon) on our lesser nature, and all of this was accepted as completely normal by all men and a majority of women too. I spent my adolescence in a country where women couldn't drive, but were still blamed for a majority of car accidents. And none of these ideas were shared in english. Basically what I'm saying is that a glossary change won't hide the substance of an idea from me.

So when I see someone, particularly a male, promote the idea that women are inferior beings who exist for servitude and sex, it doesn't matter that his avatar is a hammer and sickle on a pride flag. When I see someone claim that no one is oppressed on the basis of sex, not even infants aborted in utero for having a vulva, but on the basis of some quasi-religious 'gender essence' it doesn't particularly matter that the person expressing the view likes to have pink hair and wear glitter. I recognize the belief as the regressive, socially traditional, and sexist idea that it is.

I can't pretend that liberalism and bigotry are opposed in practice. We've all seen how liberals act toward demographics they think they own. For example, how Bernie bros reacted in 2016 and 2020 when their candidate did not poll well among black voters. Or how Muslims in the UK are poor oppressed victims unless they don't think you can self-identify as a different biological sex, then they're actually Islamist terrorists (even as they quietly shoo away authors like Ayaan Hirsi Ali because "not all Muslims you know"). Or how outraged certain leftists get at conservative women. It's like watching an entire political debate devolve into "hey! that's MY pie!!"

But the dictionary definition of liberalism still includes a belief in equality under the law. Equal civil rights and equal access to public resources on the basis of sex, sexuality, race, ability, religion, ethnicity, national origin, or whatever other metric you want to divide people on.

Also I think it's funny to tell people that political labels have meanings and they aren't radical or liberal just because they say so. As far as I know, nobody's tried to make that a human rights violation yet.

#trans political

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pleasancies · 3 years

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Justifying The Aftermath

wordcount : 2.1k+

warning : mention of animal abuse, emeto

content : lashing out, electrocution, vomiting, whumper!caretaker, lady whump, lab whump, whumper pov, manhandling

This is it! The last day of Summer of Whump. It's been fun, writing and reading more whump from this event. Can't wait for next year! Tagging : @summer-of-whump

***

Previous Chapter

"Breathe deeply, Fenrir."

Her stare was full of contempt. There was still a sharp edge on her two fangs. Blue veins jutting out under her arms and legs. She was much older than John, late in her twenties. Prior affiliation indicated if she wasn't a murderer or an arsonist then she's an accomplice to one. He didn't dare to take a step further. Even when her left arm was tucked in a sling, the other connected to an IV, the general scrapes and bruises on her face, or the fact that she couldn't sit up so the infirmary nurse had to raise her bed to prevent her lungs collapsing in on itself.

Fenrir spat, and it hit him in the chest despite the distance.

John took out his napkin, "I mean it for your well-being. Your rib fracture wasn't severe, but your recovery will be greatly stalled if you manage to get yourself pneumonia."

"And then what? Brainwashing? I had to be Empire's hunting dog? I'd rather die."

"You're contributing to the public good. We're not lying."

"You think turning people into living weapons is for the greater good?" Fenrir grinned, covering the upper half of her face with her palm. "Rich kids are easy to brainwash."

"We were forced. If terrorist groups like those Heretics you love so much doesn't terrorize the managers then we wouldn't have to spend so much time on defense!"

John watched the rise of Fenrir's chest as she spoke. Her breath was fast and shallow.

"Heretics are a new thing. The humans living in the Orients and the Border Islands have existed long before the Ship fell into our grounds. The Empire wasn't reacting to them when they sent out the first Seed and they sure as hell does not need a living monster to weed out a bunch of poors with a handmade grenade. What the Empire doing is never defense, child. They're hungry for control."

Child. It filled him contempt. He might have been younger than her but look who had their life sorted out? An internship with the smartest minds of the earth, a girl waiting back home, and a few years worth of savings. John is more mature, educated in things other than the vulgarity of drink and merrymaking.

Forgetting his fear, John leaned on the side of Fenrir's bed. He loomed above her. "Your problem is that you're uneducated. You had a brilliant mind, but you didn't go to school or truly learn how to think the big picture. The facts you learned was baseless. The Radicals got to you first and I'm sorry for that."

The glare she gave sharpened, and for a second John believed she's going to lunge at him. Luckily she was only taking a deep breath.

"Uneducated? I've written essays, planned raids, and build gardens! I might not be an engineer, but I know more about the world than you."

"This is a waste of time. You're insulting instead of discussing."

"Explain how calling me uneducated isn't an insult."

John run his fingers through his hair, "I'm here only to look at your progress. Look, I think Heretics are too caught up in their pain. They experienced bad things and blame the Empire. But it's just the world. You need to struggle and work and-"

"Mind if I cut in?" Fenrir doesn't wait for John. "Since you want an argument, I want to acknowledge we both had a different view of reality. It's just our sources. But you need to think about what they taught you. I assume you're referring to the workhouses."

"Yes. That, and the jails. I know most of you are former convicts."

She ramped up in intensity. Fenrir raised her voice. "They might told you it's just a struggle, but have you even been there? Eat the rat-pissed grain and get yelled off for sitting? Have you ever questioned if the papers telling their story reflects reality? Managers owned the workhouses. They owned the papers. Of course they only said good things about it. They got away with untold evil because you trust them!"

The long histrionic rant left Fenrir with a coughing fit. John's answer were simple.

"Who's to say you didn't lie to me to sympathize with them?"

"Ask ten men working in the poor house. If anecdotes don't phase you then read some statistics my group works on."

"I'll do it." If John had the time, which was virtually nonexistent. If he had the guts because none of his friends including him know a guy like that, and approaching workhouse residents can get you robbed "Later. Wartimes are a bitch."

Fenrir chuckled, her mood has lightened up. "Aren't we all united under a single flag? Why is there still a war?"

A rhetorical question and a trap. Why is Fenrir likes to anger herself so much? Either way, he's not taking the bait. What a sad life, suspecting every thing you hear might be misinformation. The Empire could never lie about something so grave. They had principles. John had seen firsthand how his life have been easy because his family knows the rules and how go around the proceedings. It's imperfect, but it's definitely better than whatever the Heretics are going for.

For a week, John and Lisette have been adjusting. Visiting Fenrir separately, taking notes of trigger buttons and quirks. This Fenrir was different, and the way she was exposed to the substance made a different sort of Dog, besides the mutations. They need to re-do experiments, test new things, even change up their approach. Fenrir was always angry, and there's this restless energy around her. Avoiding certain topics and sneaking up sweets for her seem to calm her down a little, but that restless edge was still there.

Not a concern. Not since Fenrir's ribs and shoulder had mostly healed. Not after they've think up strategies to temper her prickly disposition and contain the emotional outburst after her first testing. Not when they drug her when she's already asleep before transporting her to the forest.

They were expecting a tantrum. The soldiers prepared stun guns, flash bangs, anything that could assault her heightened senses. Professor Clayton personally stitched the taser cuffs on her ankle. Something John had spent a great deal of time debating against. He was overruled. Lisette took their superior's side. In the end, the shock collar was necessary.

"I think she's getting through to you," Lisette teased.

"Oh shut up. I was trying to meet her halfway." The image in their cameras are somehow better. Some were blank, filled with static courtesy of Fenrir's rampage. But the few that left thrived, vivid contrasts and colours detailing her figure among the half-eaten animal. Alien techs are on another level. "She was taught to expect cruelty from us. We can't reform her if we proved her right."

"I think that's unfair. She'd done bad things, just because she was radicalized to do so doesn't mean she's exempt from punishment."

John leaned on his chair, "But we're not judges. We're scientists. We should refrain from any cruelty unless it's sanctioned by the State."

"Yeah, right." The speakers blared with a distorted buzz of a helicopter. They were silent as it lands at the edge of the forest. Lisette went on, "so you've already told the King you'll stitch Fenrir's wound without anesthetic?"

"You're missing the point."

"What is it then? Don't get me wrong, I think she deserves it. She was a terrorist. But I won't delude myself that they'll bring her to court. No, the way this goes is she'll work for us and be given an honorary medal when all of our testing eventually gives her brain damage."

Lisette leaned closer to the screen. Her expression unreadable. Professor and his soldiers had found Fenrir. She haven't moved from her position. Still kneeling, dirty blonde hair matted with blood. They practically jumped at her. Seizing the shoulders, heaving her up, and kicking her in the legs to disturb her balance. Two men at the side, another sticking a gun on the back of her head. Professor Clayton kept his distance, the switch for the taser cuffs firmly in his pocket.

She glanced at John. The silence of the room grows opressive. He leaned to his microphone, eyes still intently looking at the screen. Fenrir let her feet dragged against the ground. Her head hung low, eyes half-lidded. Not looking at anything at particular. Quiet.

That period of trepidation passes. Fenrir doesn't fight, doesn't even squirm as they put the earmuffs and blindfold on her. She arrives, her knees buckling and fall on the floor. The strength had gone out of her.

First test passed with flying colors. The trigger serum worked. They didn't have to kept her half-dead to maintain her beast form. But the devil is in the details, how much does she have to lose? It was John's assignment to figure it out.

On first glance, Fenrir seemed to have crossed that line. John could smell death from her. Her entire body is covered in dried blood, yet she didn't seem bothered. She stared at the desk, gripping the towel they gave and picking at the threads.

"Fenrir."

"My name is Avis."

John kneeled in front of her, taking the towel. She was shivering, and her fingers were shaking in a way that suggest it was more than the cold. He wrapped the bloodied cloth around her shoulders.

"You're supposed to cover yourself like this," John brings the ends of the towel to her two hands. He hold her clasped arms, gently pulling it so the fabric would cover more of her body.

"I know that," Fenrir absently murmured.

Looking closer, it was a grisly sight. Blood runs from her gums. Pieces of the camera were stuck under her long nails. Dust and dirt were sticking under the coat of dried blood. The shock bracelet was still there.

"I was going to give you a few test before we took you to the infirmary again but maybe you need medical help and a shower first. How's that?"

She looked at him. The hateful stare was still there. "Do you think this is justified?"

"We needed to test your power. Your blood could save millions, only if we know what to do with it."

Fenrir burst into a laugh, "Making me ate two dogs alive could save people?!"

"Fenrir—"

"Don't call me that!" She stood, still taller from the transformation. Her eyes were burning from tears she's desperately holding back. Her stomach hurts. The smell of her body made her sick. Even more disgusting when it reminds her of what she'd done. "I'm not fucking stupid. I'm going to be a warbeast and the only thing I'll save is the Empire's stolen property!"

"Sit down. Please. Let's get you a bath and we'll talk this out, alright?"

Fenrir took a step back. John wished they bother to bring in her handcuffs, if only for his piece of mind. "How could you see me out there and think this is okay?"

"You're right. It's not okay."

It's justified. But John was at lost for words. He nodded, "I know you're in distress. I hear you. Let me help."

"Then leave!" Fenrir yelled. "Acknowledge for once that this entire operation is senseless violence!"

John throw his testing papers on to the desk. His voice grew cold, "You're a hypocrite. You burned houses, destroyed machines, terrorize my friend's families. How could you do all of that and think this is bad?"

"You didn't know, no, you refuse to see the destruction and terror they've caused. And when it became too big for you to ignore, you're going to pretend they've hid it from you all this time or you've got no choice but to follow their orders."

Fenrir reached for the papers, and for the next thing they both now was that her screamed reverbrate through the room. She was on the floor. Seizing. Her limbs jerked, hitting the nearby table. Blood runs from her ankles, and John looked at the door to find his mentor leaning against the frame with the remote.

"Get her a bath, John."

He nodded. She was too weak to fight him off. Little aftershocks plagued her body even as he helped her sit.

"Come on, we should go."

"No, wait." Fenrir hold the leg of the desk in a vice grip. She kept her mouth tightly shut, and there's a bit a green around the outlines of her face. She felt her cheeks burning. Saliva pooling in her mouth. John shook her shoulders. The movement was a straw that broke the camel's back.

She gagged, heaving out a gush of acid and pre-digested flesh. The chunks of meat triggered another bout of vomiting. Each wave of nausea more stronger than the last.

"It's alright," John said, rubbing her back, "Let it out. You'll feel better."

Soon enough, her stomach was empty. She was nodding off, her eyes glassy with tears. John the only thing keeping her from slumping down on her own sick.

"You're a monster," Fenrir muttered.

Next Chapter

#summerofwhump30 #summer of whump #lady whump #lashing out #lab whump #electrocution #emeto cw #animal abuse mention #whumper as caretaker #futuristic whump #manhandling

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

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'Feeling broken' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Feeling broken"

Chapter Summary : Yirina is trying to deal with the aftermath of the disaster of the group's operations in Mall at the Pines

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3100

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More the days passed, more I'm starting to feel that every memories I will have, every moment when I will see someone I knew in my old past is going to make me realize that I'm just an fucking walking mess that is trying to reach their goal while avoiding the shitstorm falling on them. Seeing Freya again and like before, I was so stupid to still play my act of 'Bell'....someone I want to remove from my head but I can't control it, I feel myself obliged to do this part when I'm facing her and I had to stop it.

When I found myself in Park's arms, crying almost all the tears of my body, I was thinking of a lot of things : seeing her again and the ring of my own mother with her despite I remember well to have take it back in that memory. This was the first real thing, aside of my memories, that was linking me to my old life as a Perseus agent and I couldn't take it as Freya left with it, getting away with Stitch and Adler with them as a prisoner. I could have save him if Freya wasn't the person who tackled me down but it was too late for that.

After at least one minute I broke down, Park make me move gently against the counter of the arcade area, wanting me to have a breath and to calm myself. I squeezed my eyes a few times when I was sit, wondering if all of this was just a bad dream but each time time I was opening them back, I was still in that arcade with Park, knelt in front of me, wanting to know what happened in here.

"Yirina, please say something." She started after I didn't speak for a minute, still focused on having my head inside my arms before I decided to look at her with my face looking all pale.

"Stitch, he....he was there, he managed to have his hands on Adler and....I tried to distract him to help Adler but someone make me fly above the counter." I explained the situation, my voice trying to not break in the middle "That person, it was Freya herself." I added, my eyes were still filled with sadness, looking at Park who was troubled by it, looking away.

"Shit, what happened with her ?" She asked, looking at me again, sounding worried, putting her left hand on my kneecaps

"When she realized that it was me, she wanted me to come back home but again, I played 'Bell'." I sniffed, looking down with my M1911 in my right hand "Then, she showed me something that was mine.....my mother ring." I cleaned up the tears on my face with my other hand but even with that, they were still falling. "I was troubled.....and I let her go."

"You let her go ?" She wasn't angry at me....just confused on why I let Freya go away.

"I wanted to tell her but I couldn't do any harm to her." I looked at my M1911 before I moved my hands to remove the mag of the gun. "If she stayed here, she will have been shot on sight by the others." I had the mag in my right hand before I threw it away from in anger. "I'm so fucking sorry, I messed this up."

"It's okay, don't....."

"Tell me...." I cut her as she was trying to recomfort me "Why are you never angry at me ?" I asked her because each time I do something that I suppose to be bad, she never raised her voice against me. "Please, why you're not mad at me right now ?" My question caused her to move next to me against the counter.

"I'm not angry because I can't be like this with you." She replied, getting her arm behind me, sounding sad. "You don't deserve to be yelled at, you are.....someone that doesn't deserve the hate of the others."

"Really ? For everyone else, I'm just seen as an Perseus agent that should die." I told her, refering to Hudson before I looked down. "I should have died at Solovetsky." I exclaimed like that, preferring to have avoided all of these shit on me.

"No, don't say that, please." Park said, moved, as she put her both arms around me, getting my head against her shoulder. "Please, I don't want you to say that." She added, resisting the urge to cry in her voice.

"I'm feeling so broken now.....a walking mess." I whispered as I moved my left arm on her chest. "I'm so lost."

"Don't worry, I'm here." She confessed, giving me a kiss on the top of my head. "We're going to get through this together, remember ?" She added, affirming my own words I told her days ago in that bed in the New Orleans, I nodded to her and I reinforced my grap around her, feeling like safer with her.

"Adler is now gone and we have nothing to help us." I admitted, reflecting to the situation we are now.....a fucking mess. "It's because of him we are like this now."

"I know." She agreed to me, thinking the same thing. "We really needed a bigger plan and now, Stitch got him." She then started to move to get up, offering her hand to me. "Come on, we should join the others to debrief." I took her hand and I got up thanks to her, mixed between feeling better & broken.

Before leaving the arcade, I decided to took back the M1911's mag I threw away next to a arcade machine, putting it back in my gun and then taking also the Krig 6 I had that was at the spot I was before Freya make me fly above the counter with her. When we left the arcade, I could realize the state the mall was in now : in pretty bad shape, filled with bullets holes almost on every wall and a lot of bodies either from Stitch's guys or from the support team.

We joined the center of the mall, next to the Nova-6 barrels we discovered, wondering why they weren't blow up by Stitch as it was looking like this main goal in here : to do a terrorist attack and kill a lot of civilians but instead, they were still intact as two mens from the support team were working on them, trying to disarm them. Maybe that the guy in charge to blow them up was dead.

"So, anything new for Adler ?" It was Zeyna's voice that came from the store we were before I runned to the arcade, she was with Bulldozer at her side.

"Stitch got away....with him." I replied, crossing my arms, looking at the barrels as the two mens were disarming them. "I wasn't so fast to react." I looked back at them.

"Putain !" Zeyna breathed away in desesperation, getting her MP5 down for an moment.

"We lost Adler and a large of the support team is either KIA or WIA." Bulldozer added, looking at all of the bodies around us before he removed his riot helmet. "There's just us and a few men of the support team still breathing in here."

"We should have bring more men here." Park exclaimed, closing her eyes. "Mason, Woods & Sims should have come with us if Adler wasn't stupid in his head."

"I don't know what got into him." Zeyna said, curious about Adler's behavior. "Maybe his hatred for Stitch and the fact he thought that we will make the job done easily."

"It's because of him that we are in this situation." I proclaimed, almost angry inside of me and in my voice. "It's because of him we almost got ourselves killed." I added.

"Does this mall has a security room ?" Bulldozer asked, looking at a corner, precisely to a security camera.

"Why that ?" Zeyna told him.

"Maybe we can try to follow what Adler did after the shootout begin." He suggested as Zeyna started to think before she finished.

"Bien sur !" She said before she started to walk away in a direction "Follow me, I know where the room is."

"Radio me when you're done with the barrels !" Bulldozer ordered to the men that was with the barrels who nodded at him as we started to comply to Zeyna's order to follow her.

We left the center of the mall to follow Zeyna in the other side of it, passing through the few others standing men of the support team, trying to search for any other potentials survivors from Perseus and from their own mens. They were all looking troubled by the events, seeing that on their face, it was supposed to be for them, a simple mission that turned to a bloodbath, according to the multiple bullets holes and pools of bloods everywhere we were walking into we arrived in the security room, the only place that wasn't touched by the massacre.

There were multiples TV on a wall, each one of them, linked to a special camera inside the mall. Zeyna sit on a chair near a control panel to check if it was possible for us to rewind the events that happened during the shootout. After having some troubles with the panel, she finally managed to make the camera going back for us, rewinding them exactly just at the moment we were almost going to run.

"Camera 5, this is us before we start to run." Park pointed at the TV of that special camera, showing ourselves in group, our guns pointed in all the directions. "Okay, you can advance now." She ordered to Zeyna, who let the camera replay the scene.

"So, Adler threw his smokes on the ground and we all start to run." I said, observing the scene as we were all running. "But where's Adler ?" I asked as he was the only one who didn't run away

"There !" Bulldozer gestured to us the third TV. "It's Stitch running to the arcade !" We could see Stitch getting to the area with his gun in hand.....before we could see Adler going out of the smoke to pursue.

"So, instead to get into cover, he decide to go confront Stitch alone." Zeyna exclaimed, still not believing at the scene she was watching before she continued to show us the events. "There's two cameras in the arcade, we could see what happened." She added, getting our attention on the last two TVs : one camera overlooking the room.....and one overlooking behind the counter and we could see Stitch getting in cover behind it.

"There's Adler !" I said, seeing him enter the arcade before he start to fight with two men that was coming inside the room from another side. He managed to got one until the other was able to neutralize him. "And now, Stitch is moving." He got out of cover to join his men who were now holding Adler as others got inside the arcade.....and I could see where's Freya was going behind a cover to attack the person that will arrive soon....me.

"Look, it's you." Bulldozer pointed as I was arrived in the arcade until Freya acted and throw herself on me, making go above the counter. "Ooww." He snorted, seeing me getting jumped by her.

"So, Stitch's taking Adler with his men while you are fighting one of them." Zeyna told, looking at the two cameras, the first one with Adler getting dragged away while the other was me, fighting with Freya. "Wait, why did the person stopped ?" She asked, focused on the second camera, reliving when Freya removed her knife from me before I managed to grab my M1911.

"Why aren't you shooting her ?" Bulldozer looked at me, seeing me holding Freya in gunpoint but not doing anything at all.

"Listen, I can explain...."

"So, explain why you didn't shot her and let her go away !" He said harshly after cutting me and witnessing the moment where I let Freya go before the camera stopped by Zeyna. I took a deep breath before I leaned myself on a table, looking down.

"She....she was my old best friend." I replied, not wanting to tell them more even if Park know the story well, we couldn't tell them the truth entirely. "At my time in the KGB, I didn't know she was with Perseus....until now." I bit my lips down., trying to think.

"Merde, she stopped herself when she saw you and she was looking.....troubled." Zeyna exclaimed, rewatching the scene entirely. "What is she holding in her hand ?" She wasn't seeing the ring because of the picture quality.

"It was my mother ring, she said that I lost it when I defected and that she kept it with her." I proclaimed, looking at Park who was looking a bit sad from that. "I couldn't take it back." I then looked back at Bulldozer & Zeyna. "I'm sorry if I fucked up to save Adler, it's just that seeing her after all these times shocked me." I could see that they were mixed between seeing me as the one who fucked this up and also knowing that it couldn't be my fault, I couldn't tell.

"Listen, Yirina is not the one to fully blame in here." Park intervened in my thoughts, moving next to me. "If Adler had a better plan, nothing of this will have happened !" She added to them.

"I know..." Bulldozer whispered before his radio start to make some noises, he took it in his hands. "Yes ?" He asked, looking at us as he was listening. "Ok, we'll come back quickly." He then hang up his radio, putting it back on his jacket. "The support team has finished to disarm the Nova-6 barrels."

"And what's the other things ?" Zeyna questioned him, seeing it on his face that there were another thing.

"Hudson has arrived in here, he's awaiting for us and to say, he's pretty pissed off." He replied, taking back his M16 that he put against the wall before he start to walk out of the room.

By hearing that Hudson was here, I know that I needed to have my temper in control since Bulldozer told us that he wasn't so happy about it. It was obvious that Hudson was going to be pissed off by the events and what he heard but we had no choice to join him. I took a deep breath before I start to follow everyone outside the security room with our guns. On our way back to the center of the mall, there were more people alive, coming from Hudson team but all their looks were focused on me.

By their eyes, they were so confused to see me.....now, everyone in the CIA know that I'm well & alive thanks to Hudson, he couldn't keep it for himself, I can say. At any time with them, they could try anything with me and I'm going to make sure that it isn't going to happen and Park was thinking the same thing along the way, staying next to me until we arrived exactly at the center of the mall, finding Hudson in his typical CIA agent clothes, holding a satellite phone in his hand.

"You literally transformed an american mall into a battlefield !" He turned his back around to face us, looking angry at us. "And now, I have learned that Adler is MIA in Perseus's hand !" He added, giving behind his glasses, a deadly glare. "Do you realize what you have done today ?"

"Sir, we tried anything to survive but Adler has decided to go alone to face Stitch." Bulldozer said, confused, resisting the urge to maybe punch Hudson in the face.

"We just came from the security room : Adler preferred to face him instead of checking for our own safety." Zeyna added to his statement. "Grigoriev tried her best to save him but it was too late." She looked at me, realizing that it wasn't my fault even with what she saw.

"Adler almost make us killed because of his behavior." I exclaimed to Hudson who was sniffing at hearing me and seeing me too.

"I'm not talking to you, Bell !" He said loudly, making me move to face him, angry that he still saw me as Bell and to be frankly, he's not going to change with me. Park was there next to me and to be honest, she would have wanted to punch that guy really hard

"Who is Bell ?" Bulldozer asked, looking at me curious.

"Old story, better for you to not know about it." I replied, looking at him for an second before I focused back on Hudson. "If you want to finish the job, do it." I suggested to him, spreading my arms, meaning that I was ready to anything from him and instead, he backed down, rolling his eyes.

"Why are you here with us ?" He whispered to me

"Maybe because I want to kill Perseus myself but if you're too stubborn about me, then you're already fucked." I responded, giving my whole thought on him....literally. "I'm not the one to blame here and you know it well by yourself."

"So who's the one I'm blaming ? The only one that was taken away ?" I nodded to him directly. "We just lost our best agent against Perseus and I'm going to pull the fault on Adler ?" He repeated himself and I nodded again.

"You didn't just lose him, a lot of people died because of Adler's mistakes to underestimate the danger." Park said, defending my view on the situation, he looked at her with contempt.

"You, you better....." He was going to continue until his satellite phone rang, causing him to take it. "Agent Hudson's speaking." He proclaimed while looking at us, his phone next to his left ear. "Yes, she's here." He looked at Park precisely. "Yeah, I'm giving it to her." He then handed his own phone to her "For you !" She took the phone in hand as he start to move to get with Zeyna & Bulldozer.

"Yes ?" Park started as I stayed with her, wondering what was the deal with her. "Our operation in the New Jersey was an disaster, sir." She looked at me with an smile "Yes, she's with me actually." I was very curious, getting my brain to work about who would like to heard about me.....the MI6 ?....."I understand, sir, I will be with her soon......Semper Occultus...." She then finished by the MI6's motto I learned a few days from her before hanging up the phone.

"What's the deal ?" I asked as she was giving the phone back to Hudson before she looked at me with an smile, almost happy and relieved.....

"Looks like we are going to make an fly to London !"

#black ops cold war #bocw #call of duty cold war #cod cw #cod black ops cold war #cod cold war #fanfic #helen park #fem!bell

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morbid-n-macabre · 5 years

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This one is local for me. The perpetrators are in my approximate age group, I was 16 when this occurred. Most of us locals who remember when this was going on hold a seething resentment towards this group of punks, and for good reason. Let me tell you why...

So, The Lords of Chaos were a teen militia group who did their very best to terrorize Fort Myers, Florida back in 1996. This crime spree ended with the murder of the very much loved and respected Riverdale Highschool band director, Mr. Mark Schwebes. The teacher was a truly good and decent human being who went out of his way to help the kids around him. Sadly, his killers knew this and used it to their advantage.

The Lords of Chaos lived in one of the more remote areas of Lee County, a place called Buckingham. The group consisted of teenagers with ridiculous nicknames: Kevin Foster was the leader who referred to himself as "God" (yep, the sociopath had a bit of a God complex), Pete Magnotti was "Fried", Derek Shields was called "Mob", and Chris Black was a bigger boy referred to as " Slim". Those 4 were the main members of the gang, but there were others who were less involved: Thomas "Dog" Torrone, Chris "Red" Burnett, and Craig Lesh. The only one in the group to have a criminal record was their leader, Kevin, albeit mostly driving offenses. His parents owned a local pawnshop so Kevin had access to an arsenal of weapons which he was apparently not taught to respect; the weapon which would be used to commit murder, a 12-gauge Mossberg 500 shotgun with an equipped suppressor, had been a Christmas gift when he was just 13. Kevin is described as charismatic, homophobic, racist, and bigoted; he was enamored with the cult leader David Koresh, serials he'd seen on television like Norman Bates, outlaws such as Billy the Kid, and the homegrown terrorist Timothy McVeigh. Kevin wanted to do something big to catch a name for himself, he wanted a reputation; the rest of the group had no problem with following his lead.

This group's crime spree appears to have begun at the end of March when they stole a couple of Jeep Cherokees. They drove the new vehicles out to Lehigh Acres and set them on fire, just sat and watched them burn. Next, Kevin filled a Coke can with something which resembled gun powder and attached wires to it with duct tape; said can was placed on a shelf in a Walmart pharmacy. Kevin then called the store and told the employee who answered that there was a bomb inside; panicked shoppers were evacuated, police flocked to the store, it was a mess. This group did their best to destroy everything they could; they spent their time searching for things to steal, random windows to break, or places to set fire to.

On the evening of April 13th the Lords of Chaos decided to vandalize and rob a restaurant called The Hut. This restaurant happened to have an outdoor patio where customers would sit and eat, and there were two beautiful macaw parrots kept in a large cage. When Kevin heard the two macaw parrots talking, he decided to light them on fire. Macaws are not stupid animals, they're very intelligent parrots with a lifespan which rivals ours. Thankfully one of the birds did somehow survive this, but it lost its mate.

At midnight on April 20th Kevin decided to do something big, it was the anniversary of the Waco siege. The group drove to a historical landmark, our Coca-Cola bottling plant, one of the only original bottling plants in Florida. While Kevin carefully filled a soda can with gunpowder and stuck a 25 foot fireworks fuse inside of it, his buddies strategically placed stolen propane tanks all around the building; they carefully ensured that once Kevin's bomb went off, the whole building would blow. Once it was all set up, the teens sat in a safe spot across the street and watched the explosion; firefighters did their best to put out the fire, but our beloved historical building was lost.

So, it's probably obvious that all of this really upset people, by this point the entire county was beyond angry! A local reporter wrote an article about the ongoing vandalism, and said article was very insulting towards the group of punks who were responsible for these terrible acts. The group read this article, and it only added fuel to the fire, so to speak. In turn, they wrote a manifesto which they had intended to mail off to our local newspaper, the News Press. For whatever reason the manifesto was never sent; nevertheless, it read in part:

"Lee County is dealing with a formidable foe, with high caliber intelligence, balls of titanium alloy, and a wicked destructive streak. Be prepared for destruction of biblical proportions, for this is the coming of a NEW GOD, whose fiery hand shall lay waste to the populous.

THE GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN, AND TERROR SHALL ENSUE..."

The spree continued with the robbery of a woman named Emory Shields; Emory was not only the owner of a small restaurant called Alva Country Diner, but she had been one of the teen's landlord. After robbing Ms. Shields, they stole her vehicle. At one point the gang took a trip to the Edison mall in hopes of stealing some clothing. They attempted to let off a grenade inside Dillard's, but thankfully it was a dud. Next, Kevin and his buddies decided to attend Grad Nite, which is a big deal for highschool seniors because they get to run around Disney World throughout the night. Kevin had a plan to steal one of the character suits and shoot up Disney, to kill as many teenagers as possible, but thankfully he chickened out.

On April 30th the teenagers drove to their own school, Riverdale, with the intention of trashing it. They stole several things, set off multiple fire extinguishers, then filled up a bottle of bleach with gas and threw it though the highschool's auditorium window. Riverdale's beloved band director, 32 year old Mr. Mark Schwebes, caught the group outside. He confiscated all of the items which they had stolen from the school, and threatened to tell the resource officer. Kevin knew that once the vandalism inside the school was discovered, the teacher would put two and two together and the group would be busted; he decided that the band teacher had to die before that could happen.

The teens found Mr. Schwebes phone number and address by calling 411. They dialed the teacher first, to ensure that they'd obtained the correct information; after hearing Mr. Schwebes voice, Kevin, Pete, Derek, and Chris Black all jumped in their vehicle and drove over. Kevin knew that the teacher would answer his door for a student he recognized, and since Derek had been a member of the band, that's who was sent knocking. At approximately 11:30 pm the teacher opened the door for his student, and Kevin immediately shot him in the face with his aforementioned 12 gauge. It's said that Mr. Schwebes probably never knew what hit him. When the teacher hit the ground, Kevin shot him once more, this time in the buttocks because he wrongly assumed Mr. Schwebes to be homosexual. The group didn't even bother to pick up the spent shells, they just left them at the scene.

There's really no telling what else would have happened or who else would've been hurt or killed had this group not been caught when they did; it's said that they had been planning to rob a local Hardee's restaurant when they were finally caught. Thankfully they were braggarts, and one of the teen's girlfriends couldn't keep the secret, she went to the police.

Craig and Brad faced no charges, while Tom and Chris Burnett both took deals; they plead guilty to lesser crimes and received very little punishment in exchange for their testimony against the main members of the group.

Chris Black, Derek Shields, and Pete Magnotti all pled guilty to first degree murder. Pete received 32 years imprisonment while Chris and Derek are serving life. The only one of the group to go to trial was Kevin Foster. On June 17th of 1998 Kevin was sentenced to death; he has appealed his conviction, but recently it was undecided if the penalty would stick. From what I understand there was a new trial in which Kevin blamed his upbringing for his actions and asked that his own life be spared. It was decided that Kevin will ultimately be put to death by the state of Florida.

*I think it was Dateline which aired a two hour special on this case, I would link it if I could find it. This special kinda irked me because, idk, it almost seemed like the man who covered it fell in love with Kevin. It made the small-time gang leader out to be more than he was, like he was this highly manipulative cult leading criminal mastermind, which just wasn't the case. Kevin wasn't well known, there was no big following, he was not a force to be reckoned with. In all actuality Kevin Foster was a nobody until he and his buddies came up with a menacing name, vandalized our city, burnt parrots alive, and murdered an unsuspecting teacher who would've kicked his butt had he not been ambushed. If you're interested in knowing more, there's a really decent book about the case, "Someone Has to Die Tonight" which is worth the read.

Sorry for the opinions on this one. This whole case upsets me, and if you know me at all then you are already aware that I am a parrot person. Some obsess over cats, other dogs, for me it's parrots; I have 6 of them. My husband is still ticked off about the Coca-Cola plant.

This is a link to Mr. Schwebes sibling's blog. She's a Rabbi, and these are her feelings about the murder, and the new penalty trial which Mark's family has recently had to endure-

https://barefootpreachr.wordpress.com/category/thats-life/mark-schwebes/page/2/

#true crime community #thrill killers #cult #killer kids #Florida #fort myers #true crime #true crime blog #morbid n macabre #murder #school shooter

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rowanthestrange · 5 years

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I think the intended theme of Kerblam was hugely overshadowed by the fact that the episode didn't address that Kerblam didn't even try to keep their workers safe. The main issue I found was that the scene at the end implied the murders couldn't have been prevented without the doctor's expertise. A responsible employer would have supended work until the power drains were fixed (I'm assuming that's why any security systems were down allowing charlie to escape notice)

*hides face in hands*

You’re right. You are - my expression is not…oh it’s not for you.

I mean I’m not sure there was a set intended theme, it was bothsided to hell, but yeah, definitely…there was definitely an issue there with it not actually addressing anything.

*leans back*

The power drains were - in my understanding - because of both Terrorist Boy messing around with the system, but far more importantly, was because the system itself was trying to channel a lot of energy into one place. The power-drain that occurs when the bot tries to kill him for example.

It isn’t clear. How much of it is under the system’s control is not explored.

Leading neatly to your next point - the system needs the Doctor’s expertise.

Why?

It would have succeeded in killing Terrorist Boy had it been smarter about it. Not done it around people. Sure maybe it’s trying to basically scream ‘He’s the bad guy!’ but that’s not obvious, nor apparently necessary, because kill him and there’s no backup, no deadman’s handle, you’re done. Statistically the guy has been alone at some point, and there were no ‘we cannot murder’ rules implied, so off you go chums.

Maybe the robots didn’t want to murder him - a good theme that would have tied perfectly into both the terrorism and the themes being built in this series, and does work with them knowing the Doctor would stop it.

But that didn’t happen. I just made that up. None of this stuff was explained, nothing addressed. The roots for this episode are so good and go nowhere.

Explain why they don’t care about power outages in a 90% automated factory. Use it for character development with the woman - she doesn’t care and is lighthearted about it because she’s in people, while the rest of the company is having kittens - because that is a big deal and everyone would have noticed.

And this place clearly can’t just shut down for a month, are you joking?! Unless you’re playing a Bad Wolf Satellite Whatever with this, the consequences would be absolutely huge. Space Amazon shuts down, only gives its workers half that time off as paid leave, and it’s clearly the backbone of the Kandokan economy, that’s on last legs enough that Kira’s never got a goddamn Amazon delivery in her life, but also where six year olds print metal pendants for their Daddies.

And if you still want to do all this, then make it a goddamn point that THIS IS WHY YOU NEED PEOPLE. Not in meaningless goddamn packing, but that if you had PEOPLE paying close attention, they would have been more likely to catch the flaws in the system, or notice it being abused and be able to act on it. Slade was clearly useless - cut that character, he’s only a red herring anyway, and use all that time and energy to give us context with the robots.

Warning From The Future: This fix-it got long

But if I’m allowed to make changes, just off the top of my head, I axe Kira too. Don’t kill off Lee Mack (no I’m not gonna learn the character’s name) so quickly, and then you already have a ‘human’ element in the plot and he fits it well. Kira only exists for man-pain and to humanise Terrorist Boy - which you’re already doing with Graham (Their scenes should have been much the same, but highlighting some extremist tendencies - particularly his odd choice of referring to the system as He - and clearly indicating that no-one talks to this kid enough to see them). Also fewer humans would help sell this idea of the 90-10% thing. Swap team positions - the Doctor goes down and meets Mack (because she’s already sympathetic to the robots so needs to become less so, and this leads to lots of little opportunities to dig at Amazon, capitalism, workers rights etc), and Yaz and Ryan are on packing. It gives Ryan a chance to be good at something in front of Yaz for a change, lets Yaz do some competent police work that actually goes somewhere (seriously McTighe), and Ryan we’ve seen be sceptical but sweet before with the baby situation, so therefore he takes notice of the robots (because he needs to be more sympathetic to them and is a better audience avatar). The combination of him being emotionally intelligent, and Yaz cognitively intelligent, means they work out the origin of the ‘Help Me’ which also fits the fact that Yaz was the only one to notice the message at all. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Mack are facing robot villains. Hmm that’s weird. They run to find each other, Yaz and Thirteen probably doing the grabbing each others forearms thing, and say at the same time “The robots are trying to kill us” “The robots are asking for help”, look at each other in confusion, and that’s when Graham and Terrorist Boy (foreshadowing) show up with the maps. Woman (don’t remember if she had a name, sorry) can show up again, having done some digging and phoning around (she uses a large phone, not a large tablet), and has found the people never made it back home. She’s panicking, the Doctor still gets her ‘If you are lying to me’ moment, etc. etc. things progress, plot as before, but instead of losing Kira, we lose Mack - pendant left behind. In trying to find him, the tracker lures Yaz and Ryan away from the others (Terrorist Boy’s intent was to get everyone, but that’s this Scooby-Doo team for you with the splitting up). Ryan is the one that nearly gets blown to bits by the bubble-wrap because of course he does, his defining character trait is to effing touch everything. Terrorist Boy gives himself away by legging it as Ryan moves to grab it, and Yaz saves him, cus she has good instincts and reflexes. Maybe a robot then says “Would you like me to dispose of this an an environmentally conscious way” - subtext layers, and at a safe distance, pops it - the system showing what damage it can do. This also acts as a set-up for the scene with the robots exploding it later, and makes it look less like the Doctor committing mass robo-murder (and prevents the robots from having to be deliberate murderers themselves). Doctor having got Twirly etc. hijacks a bot teleporter, and with the Woman and Graham finds the soup, etc. etc. same as before. That Terrorist Boy pegged it before, makes sense as to why Yaz didn’t catch him and restrain him, and everyone meets up again. This time though, we have some space. Have the Doctor excitedly (almost obscenely) working things out, while Graham explains the soup - clearly ruffled, and Yaz gets the Woman to bring up the details of Lee Mack’s family. If there’s thirty seconds to spend on how she’s had to call in a lot of dead bodies but never explain it to people’s families, do it now, leave her staring at the phone. Doctor comes to her excited conclusion, and the Terrorist Boy suddenly shows up threatening people with a detonator. Yaz stands (she looks extra shaken), but she’s behind, clearly looks to the Doctor who takes charge (characterisation, shows where she sees herself and her trust in the Doctor, and explains why she isn’t more active yet). Scene, scene, etc, etc, all the bullshit about millennials = bad obviously removed, Graham actually gets most of the attempted calming lines, and it nearly works. But as it fails, the Doctor gets in with him “Killing the people he was supposed to be trying to save”, that to him the people are no more real than the robots - oh no? Prove it. Grabs the phone from Yaz’s hand, which is still on, turns the volume up, and forces him to listen to the six year old asking for her Daddy and telling him to stop being silly. It’s almost on the edge of cruelty, and we see that glimmer in her eyes again. It doesn’t work. It’s his plan, his vision, he’s going to be the one to take control, he he he. But it’s not funny. It’s all about him and his power fantasy, and that becomes increasingly clear the longer you let him talk. (Him stomping on the device is more explicitly visually framed as a mirror for the Doctor doing the same for the neo-neo-nazi’s Vortex Manipulator, but it isn’t explained, just complex forshadowing for the Doctor’s monster breakdown later). Yaz never grabs for him and fails, we just go straight to him running into the bots - maybe standing on the balcony railing first to get a proper little-hitler shot above his tin soldiers, then jumping down to hide among them. But as before, the Doctor doesn’t stop him getting blown to pieces. At the end, the need for more humans to manage the system and particularly to work with each other is noticed, and that’s what the human positions should be for - what humans are good at, noticing patterns and each other. There’s no ‘lol Graham what are you like’ moment in the TARDIS, it’s just Yaz’s feeling of failure as a Police Officer shining unspoken in her eyes, and her request to go see the daughter personally being honoured, while Graham is drinking a cup of tea and watching Ryan intently (clearly been hammered by events, but taking comfort in his own odd-but-blessedly-harmless boy), while Ryan pokes and prods at Twirly, whom apparently they never actually gave back. And it ends with the Doctor once again being rebuffed as company, Yaz leaving the TARDIS, kid’s necklace in hand, and walking into a room across the camera - the Kerblam! poster with Mack’s face on the wall behind her.

I’ve only watched the episode once, and I don’t have a transcript to refer to yet, so might be missing some pieces, but broadly speaking.

And I appreciate that the Kira scene and the ‘You had a plan, but you weren’t expecting to fall in love’ is almost certainly meant to be a Direct Mirror for a future scene with The Doctor and Yaz, but without Chibnall over my shoulder and saying that has to be in there, the transition to the concept of general filial/agape love works for me.

Apologies. Bit longer than I expected. I just started writing and it kept flowing. Apparently I did have some concrete ideas about how to fix it. Sorry, wow.

#replies #doctor who #long post #yikes that is a beast of a paragraph #wall of text #fixit

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duanecbrooks · 7 years

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"Girl(s)"-Watching In an earlier article I held forth concerning Baggage Claim, a cinematic black-oriented rom-com that I saw on DVD that I was initially attracted to because of its lively, funny trailer as can be seen on YouTube--and that, as I also disclosed, has made the list of My All-Time Favorite Theatrical Offerings. I have since purchased, and seen, the DVD of another picture that initially caught and held my attention due to the quality of its trailer--which, as is the case with Claim's trailer, is available on YouTube. Namely this flick, which, by the way, started out as a play, is Some Girl(s). It is, let it be said flat-out, a dazzler, laden with searing dialogue, meticulous direction, and--and this is the clincher--genuinely touching and humanistic performances. To catch and stay with Girl(s) from beginning to end is to be on a journey accompanied by a collection of really dimensional, truly flesh-and-blood-and-feeling characters, folks who, although entirely fictional, will certainly, definitely strike chords deep within you. It sincerely is that recognizable, in the human sense, a work. Before getting into said work, a couple of explanations are in order. First, the story itself has to do with a soon-to-be-wed writer (Adam Brody) traveling around the country re-connecting with different exes and attempting to make amends with them. Secondly, since the structure of Girl(s) is, thanks be to God, honestly individualistic--the picture consists not of some convoluted, showy Plot but of a succession of scenes wherein Brody's character (he is entirely unnamed in the flick, henceforth he'll be referred to The Fellow) re-encounters the aforementioned prior girlfriends and, in various ways, clashes with each of them--what will happen is that the tangiest of the relentlessly tangy dialogue will be spotlighted. So we commence... Upon getting back together with Sam (Jennifer Morrison): .Sam, upon entering The Fellow's hotel room: "I've never been here before. (Pause) Unless you're seeing someone illicitly." .Sam, after The Fellow tells her of his romantic misadventures after breaking up with her and what he's learned from them: "It's funny how much you know about women--now." .Sam, after The Fellow does an enormous amount of hemming-and-hawing concerning what this rendezvous with her is about: "[You need to c]ut to the chase because my kid's getting home at 3." .The Fellow, at last finally cutting to the chase: "I'm here because I want to...right a wrong, make things OK." .Sam, incredulously: "You want to air this [past romantic] stuff [that was between us] now?" .Sam, after The Fellow does his buck-and-wing as to how "we [supposedly he and Sam] broke up": "There was no 'we.' It was you! You ended it." .The Fellow, regarding Sam: "You were a girl I could take a glance at and see her whole future." .The Fellow, at last finally fessing up: "I suppose I got nervous and backed out of the situation [with you] the best way I knew how." .Sam, becoming frustrated about this whole deal: "I don't want to be thinking about this [past] shit [with you] now! I'm a wife and a mother!" .Sam, her frustration growing: "We talked about getting engaged but not this [situation they're now in]!" .Sam, in her final comment to The Fellow before taking off: "Married, huh? Good for you." And off she goes. For good. Upon getting back together with the ever-flirtatious Tyler (Mia Maestro): .Tyler, upon The Fellow's telling her of his personal and professional triumphs: "Married? Holy shit! And New Yorker magazine [published you] in the same year." .Tyler, upon seductively suggesting that she and The Fellow have a one-night stand and The Fellow demurring, citing his upcoming marriage: "Even if it just happens here, with nobody the wiser?" .Tyler, upon The Fellow's breaking down and coming on to her: "Don't forget your [wedding] vow thingy." .Tyler, in response to The Fellow telling her of "this whole [marriage] thing I'm about to embark upon": "It's not a cruise." Upon getting back together with the mega-bitter, mega-resentful Lindsay (Emily Watson): .Lindsay, sarcastically initiating conversation: "So the prodigal son returns." .Lindsay, continuing to throw her darts: "This is the part where you say something charming in return. That's why they call it 'banter.'" .Lindsay, hurling yet another dart: "You left at the end of the second semester, so you have...no idea how it was for me." .Lindsay, keeping up her dart-throwing: "How do you help me get back some of the dignity I lost?" .More Lindsay dart-hurling: "You are quite capable of fucking me. You used to do it all the time." .The final last thrown Lindsay dart, this one concerning The Fellow's profession of love and devotion to her: "You were good at [claiming that you cared about me]. Making an honest...woman like me fall for it, gobble it up." Upon getting back together with the ever-giggly, ever-girlish Reggie (Zoe Kazan): .Reggie, after using a somewhat foreign (to her) word: "Is that a word--'happenstance'?" .Sam, acknowledging a key character flaw of his to Reggie: "I have never been good at keeping up with everyone from school. You want to know a secret? I'm not even on Facebook." .Reggie, upon catching The Fellow in a lie: "You're not really good at making stuff up, are you?...Not for a man who makes his living doing it." .Reggie, disclosing her genuine past attitude toward The Fellow: "I used to watch you. You were the favorite of [my childhood girlfriend] Kelly's friends." .The Fellow, upon discovering a previously-unknown (to him) layer of Reggie: "I didn't even know you kept a journal! At 11?" .Reggie, telling The Fellow of how she, too, once wrote a tale of fiction: "Like you did in your story. Only without all the--what do you call 'em?--motifs." .Reggie, getting into she and The Fellow's past together: "Your hand was there [upon my body]. Slipping into my panties." .Reggie, flatly refusing to let The Fellow off the hook for taking sexual advantage of her: "I was the kid. I was the little girl...You were a man...Maybe you couldn't vote or go to war, but you had a car and everything...You had no right to [exploit me sexually]. Ever!" .Reggie, upon, before leaving, very soulfully kissing The Fellow: "That's what a woman kisses like. You feel the difference?" Upon getting back together with the sensitive-yet-far-from-malleable Bobbi (Kristen Bell): .Bobbi, upon The Fellow's relating to her his plan to revisit his exes and see whether or not there's any bad blood: "So I was one of [those exes], huh? The lucky ones." .There's this dialogue between The Fellow and Bobbi regarding the former's emotional/psychological self, the former is the first speaker, Bobbi the second: "Part of your life begins to come up for you." "Like vomit?" .Bobbi, again commenting on The Fellow's visit-exes-and-see-whether-or-not-there's-any-hard-feelings strategy: "Well, I'm glad I made the cut." .Bobbi, becoming sincerely pissed at what is in effect The Fellow's plying his snow job: "Just don't do some pathetic thing like pretending to smooth things over." .Bobbi, upon giving The Fellow a gift certificate and him at first refusing: "Just please don't be an asshole about this. Just take it!" .Bobbi, spiritedly rejecting The Fellow's attempts to gloss things over: "I don't need any friends! Let me be more specific: I don't need you!" .Bobbi, when The Fellow tries to smooth things over by serving up the I-didn't-mean-any-harm gambit: "Fuck you!...It's not about the meaning, it's about the doing!" .Bobbi, still staunchly refusing to give The Fellow a free ride: "When you do what you do [sexually exploit females], people get hurt!...It makes you more than just an ex-boyfriend. It makes you a killer, an assassin, an emotional terrorist." .The Fellow, at last finally honestly attempting to make amends: "I've done a host of things that, if you nit-pick, look pretty awful stacked up...I'm not doing this [going around to his exes and trying to set things right] haphazardly, it's for Esquire...I may have done a lot of stupid things, but I was young!" .Bobbi's final last words before she leaves, in a quiet, weary tone: "It's very late...It's late." Referencing said gift certificate, in the same modest, tired voice: "It's for 100 dollars." Then Bobbi leaves. Next we see The Fellow upon a plane, presumably heading back home, making loving small talk with his intended via cell phone. Afterward his eyes meet with those of this hot young blonde flight attendant (Kathleen Christy) and they smile fondly at each other. The clear inference is that, despite The Fellow's upcoming wedding, they'll eventually get together sexually. And thus we have Some Girl(s), an often gripping, frequently affecting, always, always deeply human multiple portrait of relationships, of sexual politics, indeed, of love itself. Adam Brody, coming off (for me) his mega-successful turn as Paula Patton's dyed-in-the-wool-homosexual co-conspirator/best buddy in Baggage Claim is, if anything, even better here, deftly constructing an often heart-rending portrayal of a guy who is either unable or unwilling to freely acknowledge, even to himself, that his efforts to make up for his past sexual crimes, however sincere and however well-meant, amount to too little too late. Kathleen Christy offers just the right helpings of flirtatiousness and expectation as the flight attendant who, at the end, lights The Fellow's fire. Neil LaBute, adapting his own stage work, shows that a first-class theatrical script can also be a first-class cinematic script. And director Daisy vonScherler Mayer quite adeptly orchestrates both the interaction of the players and The Fellow's various travels. That leaves the women with whom The Fellow re-connects. All of them are expert, with two standouts. The first is Emily Watson, flinging her vengeful venom at The Fellow with the kind of stiff-upper-lip dignity and oh-how-you-hurt-me bravado that, far from turning us against her, have us feeling her pain and admiring her for fully refusing to be any sort of wounded bird. And then there's Kristen Bell. Currently riding high thanks to her leading-lady role on the rather fluffy television sitcom The Good Place, she sincerely reaches her pinnacle here, skillfully blending open-faced girlishness, lingering hurt, and steely resilience with the ease and the grace of a champion poker player handling cards. When she closes the door behind her after walking out, we feel the same devastation as does The Fellow--although, unlike his, it's mixed with firm respect and, indeed, admiration for so forcefully holding her own against him. It was the powerhouse actor Viola Davis, accepting her (richly well-earned) Best Supporting Actress Golden Globe Award for her performance in Fences, who said, in part, that adapting a play, even a highly-esteemed play, for the big screen "doesn't scream 'moneymaker.' But it does scream 'art.' It does scream 'heart.'" Patty West and Chris Schwartz and Andrew Carlberg--Girl(s)'s producers--have, in bringing the aforementioned play to the large screen, brought us a work that indeed freely scream both "art" and "heart." And it is we cinemagoers who are the beneficiaries.

#baggage claim #dvd #youtube #some girl(s)#adam brody #jennifer morrison #mia maestro #emily watson #zoe kazan #kristen bell #Viola Davis #fences

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