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azucanela · 4 years

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HOLDING YOUR DRINK [GENDER NEUTRAL HEADCANNONS]

FT. AKAASHI KEIJI, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, TSUKISHIMA KEI

HAIKYUU!! MASTERLIST | 1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: In which Y/N needs someone to hold their drink.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, mild violence, based on the tik tok trend, one curse word, nothing explicitly mentioned but be weary of the implications of drug use and such [lmk if there are any others i should include]

A/N: this is tik tok’s fault but yeah kjashdkjash

AKAASHI KEIJI

HEADCANNONS

ah. sweet, sweet, pretty boy akaashi

always pretty, but sweet? haha... thats about to change.

this is probably bokuto’s fault, akaashi feels the need to supervise him though, especially after that one time he left him unattended at a party and he jumped off the roof into the pool and nearly drowned because he forgot he could swim

yeah.

akaashi isn’t one for pda aside from the basic stuff like hand holding and maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek and he knows you are perfectly independent and thats all good and dandy, but even when hes being social and talking to his friends he still has one eye on you and one eye on bokuto

when you finally make your way over to him, asking him to hold your drink while you use the restroom, he simply nods to you, takes your drink in one hand, and covers it with the other, nonchalantly.

to say that akaashi, your boyfriend, is shocked when a random person comes up to him claiming to be your boyfriend comes up to him and asking for your drink, would be an understatement

almost instantly he calls out, “bokuto.” his voice is loud and firm enough that bokuto is looking in his direction almost instantly, ceasing his dancing on top of a table. when akaashi waves him over, he gives him a look of confusion but ends up coming over to where akaashi and this stranger is

and he enters the conversation hearing the stranger say, “im their boyfriend and they asked me to get their drink now hand it over.”

bokuto, naturally, is confused goes to say, “wait i thought y/n was—”

“bokuto.” akaashi silences him with a look, extending the hand with your drink to bokuto, much to the chagrin of the stranger and only serving to further confuse bokuto, though he accepts the drink nonetheless.

akaashi wordlessly takes bokutos freehand and places it on top of the drink to cover the top, before turning to the guy, who had started complaining

and then punching him in the face

never in his life could bokuto recall a time in which he was scared of akaashi

until now

akaashi turns back around to bokuto, taking your drink from his hand and shielding it once more, as though he DIDN’T just resort to violence.

you’ll never know this happened until one day someone talks about how akaashi is the calmest and kindest person ever and bokuto is like HA REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU PUNCHED THAT GUY CLAIMING TO BE Y/N’S BOYFRIEND IN THE FACE?

gosh darn bokuto that was supposed to be a SECRET you SNITCH

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

HEADCANNONS

HASDHJGAD

THESE PPL GOTTA BE DUMB TO EVEN TRY LMAO

oikawa probably dragged iwaizumi to another party or something and iwa-chan over here was like bruh there is no way in hell that i am the only person that is going to be sober while dealing with a DRUNK oikawa, thats too much to handle alone

so if oikawa doesn’t make you go, then iwaizumi will, for his sanity please agree to go. he’d never force you but PLEASE, he can’t do this alone.

honestly iwaizumi is the perfect person to hold your drink ngl, he’s definitely sober at whatever party he does to, not the type to drink your drink on accident or on purpose, our boy iwa is perfect per usual

you probably tell him you gotta use the bathroom and ask him to hold you’re drink and he’s like, “yeah, of course. take your time, i got it.” and then you leave, he is now standing alone, leaning against a wall. he’s holding your drink, with his palm covering the top while scrolling through his phone with his freehand AND watching oikawa to ensure he doesn’t accidentally decapitate himself because iwa MULTITASKS

a few people probably try to hit on him and he’s like no <3 im in a committed relationship have a nice day <3

and then some random guy approaches

now iwaizumi is a very intimidating person so im shocked this person had the BALLS to even try but they start spewing nonsense about how you told them to come retrieve you drink from him

at some point the guy probably implies that you’ll be going home with him and thats when iwaizumi sees oikawa passing by, releasing a laugh before calling out for Oikawa, “hey! shittykawa come here!”

oikawa is pouting but he comes over and sees the guy and is like, “oh whos this iwa chan?

and iwaizumi is laughing again as he gestures to the guy and goes, “apparently the guy whos taking y/n home.”

and then he goes, “do me a favor and hold this oikawa.” and oikawa is handed your drink, something that raises questions in him because why iwa chan?

he doesn’t have time to ask of course, because iwaizumi has already rammed his fist into the stranger’s face, effectively knocking him into the floor. ah the power of the ace of aoba johsai :)

he definitely would’ve kept going, threatening the guy as he wrecked his face until the message got through his thick skull, had you not arrived and witnessed the mans bloody nose, stopping iwaizumi from continuing

“he’s not worth it.”

“no, he’s not. but you are.”

i am in love with iwaizumi lol

anywho

you’re drink is very safe with the one and only iwaizumi hajime.

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

HEADCANNONS

IM CANT BREATHE THIS MANS

y’all are visiting home since you’ve been off at uni for quite some time now, the gang is back together, daichi, asahi, kiyoko and a few others y’all met through volleyball in high school

you and suga have probably been in a relationship since you left high school, because it took y’all three years to figure yourselves out. its basically just reminding each other to ya know... take care of yourself mentally and physically

and of course, now that you’re all of age, you go to a club, maybe a college party that a friend of a friend is having

regardless, suga is always going to have an eye on you, he’s gonna know your exact location at all times. though he isn’t going to follow you around or anything, everyone once in a while he’ll drop by, hand on the small of your back while you talk to some old friends—or new ones idk maybe you’re an extrovert. he’s checking on you though! he asks if you’ve eaten, have you been drinking water, is there anything you need, are you feeing okay?

then he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and leave to go hang out with daichi and suga, they’re all just sitting on the couch, maybe with some new friends too, maybe with old ones from his karasuno days

you come over, all like, “babe would you mind holding my drink while i go to the bathroom?”

he’s like yes ofc ofc, and he takes your drink, probably sits with his elbow resting on his knee, holding the drink between his legs with his other hand over the top of the drink. he’s pretty subtle about it, you wouldn’t notice as he just nonchalantly takes the drink from you and carries on the conversation that there’s a small furrow in his brow because why is the world like this, you shouldn’t need someone to hold your drink

everyone would honestly forget the drink isn’t his

now if someone happened to come over claiming to be your friend or maybe even a potential hook up— something sugawara would laugh at as your boyfriend, probably pretending to be intrigued by the idea before revealing who he is — well let me just say...

a lot of people forget that out lovely mom friend and resident king, sugawara koushi, is also so very very very chaotic person.

which is why i KNOW when you hand sugawara that drink, if anyone even TRIES to take it from him, to ask him for it claiming you sent them, he will bark. suga WILL bark, he learnt how to just for this situation. he will also hiss.

moral of the story: i trust sugawara koushi with my drink

TSUKISHIMA KEI

HEADCANNONS

rip to whoever thought TRYING was a good idea

anywho

tsukishima did not want to go to this party, you probably dragged him to said party, and he only went because its you that dragged him to the party.

he’s probably vibing alone in a corner or something, maybe engaging in conversation on occasion if someone he tolerates happens to be at the party, otherwise he’s stuck to you like glue, just following you around, arm over your shoulder, shameless pda as he wraps his arms around you and lays his head in the crook of your neck as you talk to your friends

then you’re like lmao babe free me i need to use the bathroom, also watch my drink, and he’s like okay FINE be that, and he takes your drink and watches as you make your way through the crowd of people

he’ll probably wait by the bathroom for your return because ew people he doesn’t want to have to socialize— especially not alone. and if anyone tries to socialize, hit on him, anything, he’s really just gonna straight up make it clear that he is not in the mood

it doesn’t really occur to him to cover the drink until some random person comes up to him

claiming to be a friend of yours and having come to collect your drink for you

there are several issues here, first of all, tsukishima was fairly sure he knew all your friends and he did not recognize this stranger at all, and he was pretty sure if he asked their name he wouldn’t recognize that either

secondly, tsukishima knows you would’ve come to get not only your drink but him because he made it very clear that if you abandon him at the party to fend for his own he would be rather unhappy

so when tsukishima questions the person some more and realizes his suspicions are correct, they are in fact; a liar. he laughs. he genuinely laughs because wow YOU THOUGHT you could fool him?

idiot.

he’s covering your drink with his palm— because he isn’t going to set it down? that’s just plain dumb, and tsukishima isn’t dumb. no, he’s covering it with his palm, and then using his free hand to grab this stranger by the neck and slam them into the wall he had just been leaning on because he needs to make it very clear that lmao this is NOT okay :D

this guys feet almost lift off the ground but tsukishima probably towers over the stranger because he’s a tall guy, and suddenly he’s threatening them, telling them that if they ever try something like that again they won’t be leaving the party.

“tsukki?”

hey look its you!

tsukishima offers the strange one final, warning of a smile, before patting their shoulder awkwardly and stepping away from them to turn to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before nonchalantly just saying, “lets go. this is lame. oh— and here’s your drink.”

tags:

@therainroguefanfiction @beifongsss[girl idk if you even asked to be here but like now you are bc i forgot akjshdsajkdbs oops] @iwaizoom @shawkneecaps

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sassooda · 3 years

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Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 16 - Observer 🔞

w/c - 6,503

Choso’s curiosity has been getting the best of him lately. He remains mindful in his duties but he can’t help but research in his spare time, knowing that the unknown is slowly eroding away at him.

Yesterday, he had some updates about Itadori’s control over Sukuna, which he muddles in an attempt to pull Getou’s attention from him, so he made his way to Getou’s room to deliver the report. He heard crashing sounds and grunts but knew better than to simply open the door. As he leaned into it though, he began to hear the muffled cries of a woman, some sounding comparable to Elska’s but the rest resembling horror. To his dismay, he became intrigued and decided that he should take a peek using his observer’s technique.

Choso quickly strolled his way back to his office and shuts the door behind him. He places his phone on his desk and sits down in the swiveling leather chair. He removes the tie from his hair in an attempt to relax. He hesitates for a moment, feeling a little dirty about his intentions for doing this but he really needs to know more. While still sitting, he turns his back to the door and draws an oval shaped design into the air. He closes his eyes and focuses on mapping the trail to Getou’s room, a much simpler task than transporting people. When he finishes, his eyes open and before him is now a real time vision of what was happening in there.

He sees Getou mounting a curvy black-haired woman who’s bound up in chains but face down on her knees. Choso is confused because although it looks sort of like what Naoya was doing to Elska, Getou seems to be hurting the girl in front of him. She’s not crying but her expression definitely reads distress in contrast to his that has an engrained smile accompanied by laughter. He can’t see much from this approach but catches sight of Getou’s length as he begins to harshly administer repetitive full thrusts, ramming the woman into the floor. Her entire body jolts with each round which seems to excite Getou further as he taunts her “I knew you were a slut.” Choso was trying to take away as much as he could from this display but couldn’t help but feel Getou was doing it wrong…Naoya’s approach seemed a lot less, well selfish. He hears the woman grunt into a whine, “I didn’t say you could cum yet bitch.” Getou began striking the woman with her own chains and he decided that was enough…he didn’t care to see anymore. He remembers the shiver that crossed his body as he released the technique, forming even more contempt for the man he worked for.

Today though he thought, ‘Maybe I should try her…’. It’s been a long one but he found himself with extra time since he didn’t need to be on medical standby, everyone was at the base. He sits down in his chair like before but less relaxed for he doesn’t know what he’s going to see… ‘hopefully nothing like yesterday’. He again traces the oval in the air before his eyes shut until he can once again navigate the distance and map the path. Once he’s completed this he opens his eyes quickly to the sounds leading from the window like projection.

He sees Elska riding Gojo, although he wouldn’t know to use such vocabulary. His mouth drops at the full view, being thankful for whatever it was in that room that created the shadow he could infiltrate. It’s as if he’s sitting across from the couch, only mere feet away. Now he can see exactly how it’s done.

His eyes are completely honed into how Gojo and her are connected, where and how she’s making him to move in and out of her. Their moans hitch his breath. He finds himself with that strange feeling, that overwhelming tingling that makes him grab himself through the cloth of his pants again. He notices that his own meaty extension is becoming firmer, throbbing in response to the naughty sights playing out before him. When she gets up, he frowns and sighs thinking that he must have caught the end of it but she soon sits back down on him, leaving Choso to see now her face and breasts.

She’s definitely having a better time than Getou’s woman. Her expression is soft with furrowed brows and an open mouth. He finds it interesting that she seems so overwhelmed but is controlling the situation and doesn’t slow down. A high-pitched “Ahh!” leaves her as he watches Gojo’s smile widen. He’s doing something with one of his hands but Choso isn’t at the right angle to view it. Whatever it was, she seems to really like it.

He leans back in his chair, hand on his crotch as he continues to watch them go at it. He puts some pressure into his palm and brushes down towards his knees, causing himself to vocally shudder. ‘This is strangely wonderful’. He’s watching the climaxes unfurl between the two, their cries making him grip himself now and he sees Gojo hold her down in place above him, pushing into her. He’s seen so much in his lifetime and wonders how he never discovered this before. ‘I wonder if my brothers knew?’ The show before him has come to end but he doesn’t release the technique so he can take in their bareness as he gathered that helped him feel good too. He’s reaching into his pants now, fondling himself in different ways, experimenting with what feels best. His hands are pretty big but now his grip has widened more than usual as he holds himself snuggly. He’s not even aware of his own moans as he mirrors the same motions along his shaft that would be experienced if he were with one of those girls. His body tenses up, causing the rest of him to become erect as well while he quickens his moving hold. There’s a small amount of liquid oozing out of the head. He runs his fingers along the tip, giving it a fluent ribbed like texture and his toes curl for a second. “Uhh..ah”. ‘Feels really fucking good.’

He’s back to focusing on their interactions while stroking himself. Gojo is dressing her as she seems to be losing her usual collected state. He doesn’t find her as exciting in this situation covered but the little dress is still pretty revealing, appetizing in a way. He bits his bottom lip. He’s about to remove himself from his pants as they seem to have shrunk around his thighs and hips but then the door to his office swings open.

“Cho-so I need you to sign off on the-…” Naoya’s voice is lost as his eyes meet Choso’s technique. His earlier good mood is decimated as he’s watching a naked Gojo embracing a barely dressed Elska. He’s immediately enraged at the fact that they’re holding each other and the implications of how their dress…or lack thereof… insinuates a situation of abhorrence for Naoya. “What does that blue-haired dick think he is doing?” He then sees Choso’s flushed face paired with open pants and still clothed erection.

“What the FUCK is going on in here!?” Naoya’s deep voice booms through the room, hollowing Choso as he jumps to stand up. He braces himself as Naoya beelines for him, or so he thought. Naoya completely passes him though, in an attempt to jump through what he thinks is a portal, completely heated at the sight of Gojo swaying his woman in his arms.

“Naoya NO! YOU CAN’T!” Choso grabs onto Naoya’s shoulder and uses his cursed energy to rip the large man away as fast as he could. Naoya flies backwards to the other side of the room but Choso knows it’s too late when he sees the ripple effect cascade outwards from where he assumes Naoya’s hand penetrated its surface. He can see Gojo looking around the room in a completely defensive state, hoping that he’s still left ignorant as to what just happened. He releases the window quickly after that.

“That technique is only untraceable as long as what is observed remains undisturbed!” Choso catches himself actually raising his voice for the second time ever, which seems to throw Naoya by surprise too. “You could’ve ruined everything!” He’s trying to calm himself, “We lose a major advantage if they find out I can do this Naoya…”

“I thought I made myself pretty clear you little perv, you’re not to touch yourself to her…what the fuck!?” Naoya is standing himself up, brushing the dirt from his arms and cracking his neck. He’s irritated by this ‘HIM TOO NOW?’ He doesn’t understand that Choso is simply inquisitive about the act and isn’t actually wanting to try and take Elska, he’s just paranoid after it seems everyone else does.

“You actually said for me to not touch myself to the thoughts of you and her.” Choso corrects Naoya in a matter-of-fact manner, still collecting himself from the infusion of his groin and the seriousness of what almost happened. “Why didn’t you just call or even knock?”

“Choso…she is spoken for...BY ME!” His eyes trail down to Choso’s pants. “Do you understand why this is wrong? If I see this again, I’ll tug it so hard it falls off…and I DID!” He points to Choso’s phone that’s lit up and displaying 4 missed calls. Naoya’s voice is still raised as he has yet to calm down himself. He felt like if he didn’t get to her right in that minute, or at least soon, he’d lose her forever. It was clear to him, her affections for Gojo and that made him insecure about his own for her. He never planned on caring for whoever his wife would end up being, marriage has always been about beneficial arrangements within the clans. He didn’t even care much for the idea when she was mentioned to him initially, years ago, ‘Just so long as she can produce strong heirs.’ Now however, he found the time and distance between them to be torturous, he knows she feels something for him too but isn’t able to sum up the totality of exactly how much that is. He knows he’s lucky to have such emotions for his intended and now feels the need to share them.

The room remains soundless for a minute until Naoya sighs and looks to Choso. “Look, I’ll keep this our little secret if you do that for me so I can see her tomorrow...” He’s still pretty pissed off about everything he just saw…literally everything…but when he looks to Choso who is undoubtedly embarrassed, he can’t help but feel bad for the guy. ‘He’s new to that stuff.’ Naoya thinks of how she looked in that tiny little slip and shudders pleasurably before turning his attention back to his pitiful friend. Choso probably would have remained uncorrupted had Naoya only done his job that day when he caught them. He realizes this. “Just don’t do that to her ever again. You need to find someone else to peep on, Tom.”

Choso doesn’t understand the reference but nods his head in agreeance while looking down to the right…still too embarrassed to meet eyes with Naoya while on that subject.

Naoya sighs again and walks closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Look, it’s alright, all men have been through something similar at one point or another.” He tries to add encouragement to his voice because other than this, he’s grown really fond of him as they’ve grown closer. “It’s almost like a rite of passage.” He trudges up a smile, “You’re just a really, really late bloomer buddy.” He pats Choso’s shoulder and then turns to leave the room. He seems in a hurry all of the sudden. “I fucking mean it though, leave her OUT of it. I’ll know too if you don’t!” He smiles and pulls the door shut behind him, never even addressing properly which papers he needed signed. A faint, “I’ll be back in the morning” is heard as his footsteps fade.

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Toji was confidently strolling the halls with a large paper bag in hand. ‘He won’t be able to resist this special edition.’ He woke up on the floor of his demolished apartment without wings luckily. He’s still over joyed about his new form, loving the power surging through him although he hasn’t summoned any cursed energy since the scuffle between him and Gojo. “Tch…Gojo…” he grumbles, “I am surely the better option now, she just needs the truth.”

He arrives to Nanami’s office but finds that it’s empty. ‘Maybe I should have called. He better not be on a mission.’ He stands in front of the doorway speculating where the shaman could have been at this time of day. He walks further down into the hall aimlessly, really looking for anyone who would know of his whereabouts, Megumi even if he was lucky, until he begins to hear voices. He nears them, recognizing them as the distance disappears. “God damnit…” He says as he leans into the doorway to find Nanami, Gojo and Elska sitting around a conference table.

He first looks to Elska who looks in much better condition than the night before. As he scans over her white tanktop and skin, he’s thankful initially to see that he didn’t leave her with any bruises but then gathers that meant she’s likely fed since. Gojo stands up immediately upon seeing Toji, slightly confused as to why he wasn’t able to sense him like before.

Nanami sighs, “I swear if you two break anything, I’ll make sure it’s deducted from your pay Satoru…”

Toji immediately punches a hole through the door, “HAA you heard him!”.

“TOJI what the hell?” Nanami is standing now too, his hands having slammed down on the table.

“Toji stop it!” Elska is still sitting but her expression is stern.

Toji throws his head up, “I’m sorry Nanami…I couldn’t help myself.” He sighs, “I won’t do it again…”

Elska looks satisfied by this but the other two men were shocked by how easily he listened to her. Toji shuffles to the side of the table closest to him and hands the bag to Nanami. “This is for helping me with my room.” Ending with a mischievous wink.

“The fucks he talking about Nanami?” Gojo turned his entire head in a dramatic way to narrowly eye his blonde friend. He’s can’t believe Toji would have the balls to show his face again so soon after what happened. ‘And now there’s talk of a room?’ He turns to Elska now on his left, checking to see if she’s uncomfortable by his showing up but she isn’t. Her posture has actually straightened and her eyes have yet to leave him since he entered, which he doesn’t like.

“I never said yes, Toji just doesn’t liste-…”

“Fuck that, I’m moving in y’all. My place is toast now and I have no other choice.” Toji throws his hands up in comical defeat as he prepares to lay the gravy on them. “My son is here and so is my ma-…Elska…who is still in danger by the way.” He looks to Gojo now, both of their eyes narrow simultaneously as the scowls also form. Satoru rolls his shoulders back and intensifies his presence.

“What happened at your place, Toji?” Elska’s voice in brimming with concern as she now finally stands, joining the others in the room. She lands her right hand on Satoru’s arm to display that she’s still very aware of his hesitation but is also asking him to hold off for a moment.

“Doll, I’m so glad you asked…” A wide grin takes over Toji’s expression as his excitement builds. He wanted to show her rather than tell her but this is still going to be good. “It turns out that you gave me wingsSHAHHHHH” The cry that leaves him is thunderous and wild.

Toji hunches over and grabs at his shoulders, “Aww FUCK not right now!” He’s struggling to the floor as he finally catches himself before falling over, being on his hands and knees now. Elska tries to run over to him but Satoru grabs her arm and pulls her back forcefully, not knowing what to expect. Toji’s muscles are dancing along his back as his skin begins to stretch from large bone protrusions. “Why does it hurt so bad!?” After what seems like forever, they finally rip through and the massive deep grey wings take shape around him. His tattered shirt falls forward, holding on by the waist. His wings were much thicker than Elska’s and used more body area where they conjoined from the spine outward. No one says anything at first, they just stand there as the gusts wave through them.

“They’re…beautiful.” Elska gasps and reaches out for one of the stray feathers that was blown across the table as he’s tearing off the rest of his shirt. “They’re so big! Wow Toji!” She can’t help but feel excited at his time, finally seeing what others saw when they looked at her. His stature was large as it is but with the added mass of feathers, he almost seemed imperial…like some kind of winged royalty. Their eyes meet for a moment but the gaze between them seemed timeless. Her eyes begin to glow, fangs slowly forming. She mindlessly tries to walk towards him a second time, with him never leaving her sight. Satoru snatches at her again and yanks her backward which throws her back into reality.

“Have you forgotten what he’s done to us? To YOU?” Satoru’s words are harsh, stinging as she recollects exactly what he’s referring to. ‘Why am I like this… He’s right.’ “I’m sorry.” Is all she manages in response.

“No. I don’t think so Gojo…you’ve got this all twisted.” Toji’s voice is lowered, he seems like he may even growl. He steps a little closer, wings twitching randomly as he does. “Elska… he kidnapped you from your world, held you prisoner, abused you…” He sees Nanami’s eyes widen as he tears off the cap of the bottle and just chugs from it. “And then he had your memories erased.”

Satoru hasn’t moved but his grip on her arm has become unbearable as she tries to pull it away from him. He releases her instantly not being conscious of his actions. “My love…please, don’t listen to him…” His eyes remain on Toji, evolving into a menacing state. Satoru is actually the one to growl, “It’s not that simple.”

“Great! Now that’s out in the open…” Nanami is only now putting down the bottle, already showing signs of intoxication. Everyone turns to him to address the random interruption as he pulls the bottle out of the paper bag and slides it to Elska. “I can’t fucking believe you two right now…she deserves the next go.”

Elska receives the bottle, catching it with both hands along its path. The atmosphere is so incredibly tense and weird as she tries to take in Toji’s words. “That would explain a lot actually…” Hands shaking, she swigs the bottle herself, coughing slightly afterwards to her first try of Jameson. It probably looks as if she didn’t enjoy the taste but she repeats the same action twice more, drinking more in each time. She’s sure that information was shocking but can’t bring herself to negatively emotionally react. ‘It’s almost not surprising though and that would explain that flavor.’ “Jesus you guys…what the FUCK?” She rarely swears but felt this was as good a time as any…still kind of dazed as she pieces things together from her own perspective.

Satoru is still frozen solid as he fails to understand her reaction once again. He’s finding that even after all of this time, she’s still so unpredictable. ‘How did she just take that kind of information in stride?’ She doesn’t seem to discredit it, in fact she seems to be coming to terms with it. ‘Is this it, is she going to leave me?’ He’s staring off in space, retreating into his mind, when he feels her nudge him with the bottle. He looks down to her as she looks straight ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes at the time. He slowly takes the bottle in disbelief and quickly guzzles some like his life depends on it. ‘Is she just having a delayed reaction? This is fucking creepy.’

Toji is waiting for shit to hit the fan too. As he listens to Gojo chasing a buzz, his eyes meet Elska’s and he’s not sure what she’s feeling, she’s not giving anything away. He was expecting her to completely freak out and maybe even attack Gojo herself, hoping so anyways. She looks up to him again for a moment and he can sense her gears turning. “Are you alright, doll?”

Gojo slams down the bottle, surprisingly not shattering it. “Stop with the fucking pet names before I rip your fucking mouth off.”

“I will be once Sati hands you the bottle.” She giggles a little as the sudden introduction of alcohol begins to affect her as well. “Sati, don’t be such a dick…I mean, seriously…like you’ve room to talk right now.”

He thinks to be offended for a second but can’t help but still remain on edge by her demeanor. She hardly speaks to him that way and he’s completely unsettled by her composure. ‘She’s still calling me Sati…’ He shrinks down as the pressure seems too great, he’s wondering if he would’ve preferred her to lose her shit. She finally looks back at him and she even smiles. ‘Why?’

“Elska…” his voice is so unsure of itself as her name leaves his lips.

“Pass Toji the bottle.” She sees Satoru’s reluctance as he’s picking up on the symbology of the situation. “You’ve both said your piece now stop being a child and just do it.” She looks to Toji now who is extending out a hand, smugly ready to accept the forced gesture. “Toji, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is…” To this he huffs and removes the arrogance from his expression.

Nanami stands up, laughing, “Grown men…” and shakes his head as he announces he’ll be right back. Everyone watches him leave until Satoru finally slides the bottle across from him, towards Toji. “Take it, cunt.”

“SATI.”

Toji and Gojo’s eyes are locked, even while Toji drinks. After the first sip he lets out, “HAHH…yea, this definitely was needed today.” Before tilting it upwards for more. His wings flutter as he takes in the beverage, causing Elska and Gojo’s attention to remain on him.

“I need that again before I say my bit…” Elska now waves to the bottle in Toji’s hand which he leans over slowly to hand it to her, unnerved by what exactly it’ll consist of.

She guzzles some this time and Satoru twitches in response, probably wanting her to slow down considering she was such a lightweight. When she sets it down, it’s with purpose. “Listen you two…” She sighs deeply, “I am not oblivious, I was simply missing pieces of the puzzle. Sati, my dream last night…I believe it was a memory of the first time I gave myself to you.” She notices Toji shift his stance, being out of the loop. “You’ve always had this taste about you, I’ve sensed that side of you this entire time. The nightmares, I’m accepting now that they may potentially all be memories…which means I know far more than you think I do.” Both men remain silent, unsure of where this is heading. Satoru’s face looks like he’s in pain, genuine agony as she progresses, turning towards him, “You’ve done some really horrible things my dear, to me and others as well… I can’t argue that.” She places her left hand into his cheek as he buries his face into it reflexively. “And as sick as it is, I almost understand. If I remember correctly then I think I’ve said this before although it’s even more so true now.” His eyes anxiously meet hers, “You were raised to believe that love was not in your nature but Sati, you are no monster.” He inhales sharply to this, almost as if he’d been holding his breath the entire day. His eyes close as his face reddens from emotion, “You didn’t know how to express your feelings properly then but you do now.” He brings his hands up to her one on his face and gently holds it as a single tear rolls down his other cheek. “If you never took me, I wouldn’t be here with everyone from this world today…I’m happy here.”

He responds in a whisper that leaves a timid smile as he recalls that wonderful night, and soaks up her current words, “This must be love.” To which she half laughs, half cries as her own tears are beginning to form as well. “Elska…” He decides to finally embrace her, “My Elska…”

Nanami enters the room again, “I knew I had another one somewhere! With the content being spewed, I just knew that one wouldn’t be enough.” He sets the second bottle down and opens it, uncaring that the first is unfinished. “I care about all of you, yes even you Toji…but this is the most dysfunctional shit I’ve ever heard of in my life.” He laughs wearily as he swigs from the new bottle.

Toji turns the chair in front of him around leaving the support in front of him as he sits at the table, feeling defeated. ‘How in the fuck did that just go down like that. All of that work, lying, sneaking around, scheming…and for what? She still loves him anyway?!’ He reaches for the first bottle and gulps a decent amount down. “What the fuck man…”

She turns to Toji now, placing her hand on top of the one teetering the bottle on the table. “You Toji, you’re not innocent either…you need to stop trying to manipulate us.” He scoffs to this, removing his hand and the bottle from under hers to drink again. “Toji…” The hurt is evident in her tone.

“Look doll, since I’m taking this harder than you are let me just have a minute.” He softens his voice to her, “This isn’t what I expected to be honest.” He watches her drink from the second bottle that Nanami handed to her. A smile forming on her face as she wipes away the liquid that spilled from her lips. She’s wearing black sweatpants too but the snug little white tank top, now has little dribbled murky spots from the spillage. He’s feels it minutely but his wings flutter again while he observes her.

“Toji, you’re still very special to me and you should understand that thoroughly.” She sees him darting eyes over to Satoru after she spoke to which a grin formed indicating that Satoru probably didn’t like that. “We are bonded now; our relationship is also very unique.” She now sits down, feeling tipsy and warm. “I can’t believe it’s finally out there.” Her relief is clear as she leans back and stretches. “It really all makes so much more sense now.” Her composed demeanor instantaneously relaxes everyone in the room, it becoming evident that her ability to be understanding and empathetic had been greatly underestimated.

Nanami leans over where he sits, “Shame on these men, Elska. Imagine if you had a quiet guy like myself.” He laughs to his own words as he waits for the rebuttal.

“Not uhh Nanamin you’re a scoundrel too! I caught you staring at her ‘little lady’ last night.” Satoru laughs loudly as he knows he’s just struck a nerve. “You’re face right now!” He’s lost in snickers as his tension fades.

Toji and Elska stiffen to these words. Toji angrily snaps his head to Nanami not understanding why that would even transpire, “WHAT?” He stands and his wings begin to flail.

“Toji you have to calm down! I’m sure it’s a joke!” She glares at Satoru for stirring things up again, “Why would you say that?” She shoves his shoulder and hoping that small bit odd normalcy they were experiencing wasn’t just ruined.

“I’m kidding, we all know our Nanamin wouldn’t do such a thing!” He turns to his now statuesque friend with an evil grin, hinting that he’ll blow the shit out of proportion if he needs to, he has the power to throw him under the bus. Nanami loosens his tie while he awkwardly chuckles and finally begins relaxing again, fully comprehending what Satoru’s eyes were saying.

“Alright boys…I’m in desperate need of a shower” She stumbles a bit once standing and remembers that she’s still technically wearing both men, “Ok maybe a bath then.” All four chuckle as she straightens herself and makes her way to the door. I’ll come back when I’m done if you’re still gathered here.” And she waves as the room falls quiet to her absence.

Satoru and Toji both take a swig at the same time which causes Nanami to laugh. “You know, you two aren’t so different from each other if you really think about it.” This statement wasn’t met well though and they refused to look at each other.

“Difference is, this fuck always wins.” Toji rolls his eyes as he sits again, placing an elbow down on the table to rest his head in hand. He’s facing Nanami, allowing his hand to block his view of Gojo.

“I really do I guess… I still don’t feel like it though.” He sighs as the outcome is still blowing his mind. His little Elska is really something else. He’s twirling the ends of his hair as he thinks about how much time he spent in fear of this exact predicament. He was so sure she would be mortified…and rightfully so. “You still get to feed from her though so it can’t be called a true victory…fucker.”

“Are you seriously telling me that even after all of this, you two are STILL making it about yourselves?” Nanami completely removes his glasses now as he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Neither of you really gave her a choice to begin with so why is it so important that she chooses now? What, like you value that or something suddenly?” His tone is still friendly but he’s getting agitated at how they could fail to get along or even understand.

“What are we supposed to do, fucking share her?” Toji spits instantly, empty chuckles leaving his mouth as his nerves are being worked again.

Gojo shifts his weight in his chair and crosses his legs.

Nanami brings his hands together in an intense moment of deliberation. “I mean, yea…maybe.”

Toji postures himself upright immediately, “She’s not a fucking toy.” He looks to Gojo out of curiosity as the man chugs some more from the second bottle, surprised to not hear more protests from him as well. He looks like he’s thinking now too.

“If it weren’t for Naoya then I wouldn’t even be considering this.” Gojo is smiling wide, feeling a little drunk now. “I wonder how he’s doing...”

“What do you mean by that?” Toji is quick to want to understand the implications of that sentence. One of his eyebrows are raised as he gives Gojo his full attention.

“Well… when I was sealed, Naoya brought her to me. He was putting her…in a tough position and one thing led to another. It was a really bizarre occurrence but long story short, that was almost a threesome.” He pauses a moment as if he’s reflecting, “Had I been able to move? It would’ve definitely been a threesome.”

“He fucked Elska?” Toji’s voice is matched with the same surprise as his expression. Naoya has been officially underestimated as well.

“Right in front of me.” He takes another drink as he greedily relishes in the memory. His mannerisms were so casual that it didn’t seem to sit right with the others listening. “She was partially in my lap for the majority of it, I just couldn’t move.”

“What? Satoru, are you serious? And he’s still alive?!” Nanami is flabbergasted by the calmness as the words left his possessive friend’s mouth. ‘I did not need to know all of this.’

“Well…” He laughs to himself as he makes eye contact, shifting between the two, “Of course initially I was ready to disembowel the fucker but as it progressed, I just realized that I was into it!” He shrugs his shoulders as he relives the situation some more, a deep sigh existing his lips.

“I’m going to kill that little shit…” Toji drinks again, “He wants to make her a fucking Zenin, Gojo, surely you know this. What do you think the boy is cute or something?”

“Of course I’m aware but I’m not going to let that happen. Also, I’m not attracted to Naoya…I just like how he makes her feel.” He shivers now to his own words. “Woah, that sounded weird to actually say.”

Nanami is genuinely curious about all of this now. He removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves to reduce his alcohol sweats. He never would’ve imagined Satoru being open to this considering he’s one of the few people that was familiar with the devil inside of him and how Elska existence made him behave. He would always keep an eye on her from afar just in case Gojo ever relapsed into old, terrible habits. He never has but upon seeing how incoherent and roughed up she was last night, he did fear for a second there. “Could you see the same possibilities with Toji?”

Gojo looks over Toji fully, from wing to toe. He’s acting like he’s sizing him up for the first time all over again. He wants to say no but in his current state of mind he can’t help but admit that he’s a little interested. He could argue that it wouldn’t be right due to Toji’s feelings for her, understanding that it could be threatening…but he knows Naoya falls under this exact category as well. “It wouldn’t work, Toji would have to cut off his own dick.”

“What?” Toji and Nanami question at the same time. They look baffled at what may be assumed as an outlandish ultimatum.

“Don’t you remember Toji, that day… the day you fucking tricked me into a misery? You said you would rather chop off your own dick than ever lay eyes on my mine.” He now hoots at how seriously they took him a few seconds ago as he was really just being a shit. He’s surprised when Toji actually cackles to his joke, unable to fight off that stupid infectious laugh. Nanami’s humor doesn’t seem to mesh well with mention of a dick lost however.

“Would you be able to stay in your fucking lane if I said yes?” Gojo is all seriousness now as he questions Toji, implying that he is really thinking about it.

“I don’t know exactly how I would do that but are you really considering this? What if she doesn’t even want to?” Toji’s failing to hide his excitement. Sure, he didn’t want to share if he could help it but he also recalls a time where he wasn’t so against the idea. “Holy shit, I have an experience like that with Zenin too now that you mention it.” Gojo and Nanami are both all ears, Gojo’s face being a little more serious as this will be news to him. “Well…uhh…it was after I fed her for the first time…” His voice trailed off wondering if he should’ve kept his mouth shut but Gojo doesn’t look like he’s going to swing, yet. “We didn’t know Naoya was there but it turns out he came for his men, who Elska fantastically handled. There was blood everywhere and the sheer amount of gore…so fucking impressive.” He realizes he’s getting off track as Nanami ducks his head back in confusion. “She released her pheromones and the little shit lunged out of nowhere not having been affected before.�� To this the three of them laugh as they can all recall their first time exposed to the scent. Their bellows chimed in unison as the cordial air surrounds them. “He’d never met her before and couldn’t understand why he wanted her to keep biting him. He squirmed so bad at first. She stole a chunk of his nuts that day I swear.” He laughing but then lets out a sigh, “But I didn’t want to hurt her and I wasn’t in the right mind to fight him…so I watched until I knew I was losing control…then I left. He wasn’t going get too far, she was taking advantage of his not knowing and got away shortly afterwards.”

Gojo seems amazed by that last part. ‘I didn’t want to hurt her…I left.’ He turns to Toji sincerely, “You really fought the urges?” Feeling slightly less of man when he considers how he never could…there was no way he could resist her like that. ‘So Naoya was lying about their encounter...’ he was beginning to believe it after he saw how Elska was affected by him, being grateful for some clarity.

“I’m a big guy Gojo, I really didn’t want to hurt her.” Gojo perks up slightly to this inference. Toji thinks he even liked the sound of it. “If I’d gotten ahold of her again, I’m not saying that would’ve gone well though.”

Nanami is just watching everything unfold as he continues to drink. ‘To think after all of this time it finally comes out and it’s so anticlimactic. They’re holding a conversation now…and the subject matter at that…wow.’ “So Satoru, what do you say? Are you willing to give it a shot?”

“You’re not touching her with your wings out so you’ll need to figure that out first.” He’s been nothing but astonished today, “If she can accept me the way that I am, I feel I have to try to accept you I guess…” He folds his arms in a playful pout while looking to Toji out of the corners of his eyes. “No promises that this is a happy ending though.” He tries to hold his face but the alcohol mixed with his immaturity pulls out laughter instead.

“We’re really getting through the issues today. I never would have thought it’d be this easy.” Nanami holds up his bottle as to toast before passing it to Toji.

“I’m…I’m not even sure what to say but I know what to do!” Toji holds up the bottle to repeat Nanami’s action and smiles to him. He feels the blunt clinking of thick glass as Gojo has raised the bottle in his hand to meet Toji’s. He’s so surprised that he isn’t even able to hide it from his face.

“This should be interesting.” A wicked sneer takes over Gojo’s expression as the three men have finally come to an agreement.

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dascarecrow · 3 years

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Scarecrow Thoughts - Wandavision Ep. 6

Beware of spoilers

-Title is “All-New Halloween Spooktacular!” So we’ve gotten to the Halloween episode. Was expecting it to be later in the series.

-Opening credits are an homage to those of Malcolm In The Middle. Interestingly Agnes and Pietro both are credited during this. Hmmmm...

-We get straight to the Halloween stuff and we get some solid personalities for the twins. Billy is the more thoughtful and tempered one, going into a diatribe about the spirituality of Halloween. Tommy is the snarky and abrasive one, thinking Halloween is just about candy. Nice touch, I wasn’t expecting much distinction between the two.

-Billy is speaking to the audience directly, so I guess they’re going wholesale on the Malcolm in the Middle vibe.

-Billy is dressed up in his Wiccan costume from the comics. Really didn’t expect that.

-Pietro is sleeping on the couch while the twins debate waking him up, unaware that he just did and pranks them a bit. So Quicksilver is in the role of the looser, fun uncle here. About what I would expect.

-Wanda hears the commotion and comes downstairs, dressed in her classic costume. The twins both get some depth with their responses. Billy guesses Old Red Riding Hood, showing some snark of his own. Tommy actually likes it, showing some sincerity and warmth but changes his opinion when Pietro claims it’s lame.

-Wanda claims the costume is supposed to be of a Sokovian fortune teller. Nice bit of backstory, don’t know if that’s the case in the comics. I don’t think it is.

-Pietro reminds Wanda of one Halloween as kids. Wanda remembers them getting a fish, much to their young selves revulsion. Funny scene but there is gunfire in the background so trauma rears it’s head again. Wanda claims she remembers the incident differently and Pietro notes she’s suppressed a lot of trauma.

-Billy comments that Wanda had been acting oddly since Pietro’s arrival but puts it down to her not seeing him for a long time. Uh Billy if your fully aware of what’s going on then get a message to a nice lady named Monica Rambeau, she’ll be able to help you and your family.

-Vision comes downstairs in his classic costume, which is simply great. We get an example of his and Pietro’s relationship which is mostly Pietro’s childishness clashing with his straightforward nature. Vision notes that Wanda hasn’t spoken about her brother much, which might be a big contributing factor to this whole mess. He also gives his opinion that Pietro is “great with kids”. Woah Vision did you just snark of your own volition? I know you got a dig in on Ultron but dang. You were built by Tony Snark after all.

-Vision reveals that the costume was all that was in his closet, with the implication that Wanda made so it was all that he could wear. It also seems that Wanda has a thing for Mexican wrestlers. I did not know that.

-Vision heads out on his own, much to Wanda’s confusion. He claims that it’s for neighborhood watch duties but Wanda is confused but it’s not what he’s supposed to do. Vision interrupts her and she stands down so he still has his awareness of things being wrong and Wanda can’t push too hard without more problems it would seem.

-Billy comments on Wanda and Vision’s recent issues but Pietro notices him speaking to the audience. Intriguing.

-The conflict gets settled with Pietro offering to step in for handling the boys tonight. He spooks Wanda with an in-show jump scare, which might hint at more sinister doings. Wanda comments he can’t for lack of a costume but he just zooms out with Tommy and both come back wearing their comic costumes. So good. Also this might be coincidental but Pietro’s hairstyle could also be devil horns. Regardless Wanda threatens to magic him into a pickled herring if he causes too much trouble.

-Outside of the Hex, we get to enjoy the “How do you screw up a bad situation for the worse show.” Hayward has officially broken through the ice and I... I really wish he hadn’t. So from now on I will be calling him Haywad for he is unfit to be addressed by his actual name.

-Monica calls Haywad out on his stunt with the drone while he tries brushing her off. Darcy snarks at how he got outdone last episode and he questions if Darcy works for SWORD. Actually a good question. She’s with Monica it would seem. Hayward gets his own moment snark by asking who’s the sassy best friend but good old Jimmy tells him off for trying to diminish the people who are actually handling the situation and know what their doing while also trying to start a fight with Wanda.

- “Maximoff was never going to negotiate with us.” I’ll admit she probably wasn’t going to but trying to blow her up before even offering her a chance is a bit too far Haywad.

-Haywad wants to take Wanda out as a quick and easy fix to things but Monica makes a point that they don’t know for certain that will happen or what else might happen if she dies while the Hex is up. A bit of a reach and I can see Haywad’s logic but I’ve heard worse rationales.

-Monica continues her defense by pointing out that they don’t have anywhere near the firepower to outstrip Wanda and winding her up is just escalating things worse. As Monica puts it Wanda is the problem and also the only workable solution they’ve got.

-Haywad is unflappable in his position, declaring Monica an impediment to the mission but he doesn’t stop there. He gets on her case for her defense of superpowered beings, even acknowledging her history with Carol. He goes on a rant about how the Snap devastated the world and how difficult choices needed to be made in light of what happened. The narrative almost paints him as a man pushed into a bad state of mind by how the world was ruined. And I call bullcrap.

-Monica’s response? “Don’t use the last five years as an excuse to be a coward.” Oh yes! I hate it when people try to use their dark past as an excuse to lash out and lower themselves to cruelty. I also love it when these people get called on their bullcorn and have how selfish they really are laid out. Tragedy befalls us all... and life goes on uncaring of our struggles.

-Heywad’s response is to belittle Monica by telling her it was a good thing she wasn’t here for her mother’s death because she doesn’t have the stomach for their work. Oh you son of a... those aren’t fighting words, that’s a full on declaration of war. And he follows that up by ordering Monica, Darcy and Woo expelled from the area.

-Woo notes that Heywad is overstepping his authority with this stunt. Oh Jimmy you magnificent so and so I could slap you with a wet pancake! I knew Heywad was up to something that could give him trouble and you just made that clear for the audience. This isn’t just a SWORD mission this is a co-op between them and the FBI. And the dorkrector just tried to force their main agent on the ground off the assignment for no reason. Oh ho ho, Heywad just put himself in the line of fire and I can’t wait for someone to pull the trigger.

-Woo cold clocks the soldiers escorting them off base and Monica joins in, knocking them all out. “Why didn’t anyone tell me the plan?” Oh Darcy never stop being delightful. After stashing the soldiers and going with the old MCU standby of disguises that don’t really disguise you the trio gets back to work.

-Back in the Hex the family gets going on trick or treating with Wanda taking the chance to question Pietro about their past. He knows she’s trying to test him, admitting that he looks different from how she remembers. He guesses that it’s because Wanda doesn’t want to be reminded of the past in her little bubble of paradise. Is he aware of what’s going on or what?

-Pietro takes the kids off to get into some mischief while Wanda goes to speak with Herb. The brief sequence is hilarious but Herb reveals that Vision isn’t on duty for the watch. Then there’s a slightly disturbing scene where Herb asks if Wanda wants something changed. She declines but it’s clear something is going on.

-Vision is off by himself and sees a couple repeating the motions of setting up Halloween decorations. One of them sheds a single tear. Oh not that cheap trick for drama again. Also eerie....

-We get to the commercial for the episode and it’s one of those claymation snack commercials. Which ends with a kid starving to death and turning into a skeleton trying to open the snack. Uh... Okay then. Let’s just go back to the... just as ominous parts of the setting.

-Wanda makes the boys return the candy that Pietro helped them steal and is upset with how bad of an influence he’s being. Pietro notes he’s just playing his part, literally that is. He’s hitting all the boxes of the standard fun loving uncle in a sitcom. He says to Wanda that she wanted “to give you grief”. Okay hopefully Pietro’s presence is Wanda trying to work through the grieving process so she can figure out what’s going on and fix it.

-Wanda questions Pietro’s missing accent and he fires back about how she’s missing hers. He claims that the details of his return are fuzzy, the last thing he remembers being his death before Wanda called for him. This does not prove it is the MCU version of Quicksilver with a facelift okay. It could still be the Fox version with MCU Pietro’s memories zapped into his mind.

-The boys get excited about a candy score and Tommy literally zooms there and back with superspeed. He doesn’t even seem aware of it until Pietro points it out, at which point he does as children and has fun with his new powers. I just love how Wanda just catches him no problem while he’s zipping around, no powers needed. She lets the boys head off for some solo candy hunting but warns them not to go past Ellis Avenue. I know Ellis is the name of a comic worker I just can’t remember which one.

-We return to the SWORD base for another installment of “Keeping your idiotic boss from destroying the world.” It is sad that there are actually enough moments like this in the MCU to be a thing. The trio find a computer room and Monica discovers Pietro’s presence in the Hex. “He brought the wrong face” So funny! Monica doesn’t want to hang around too long, which is smart. Darcy hacks into the computer systems for the compound, which is extra smart. Seriously a degree in astrophysics and computer hacking skills, what have you been up to in the... decade since we last saw you?

-What does Darcy find? Well Haywad found a way to look through the boundary and didn’t tell anyone. I am so looking forward to his downfall. Turns out Vision is being tracked through the decay signature of vibranium, which I will admit is at least clever. The tracking method also shows the residents of Westview in Vision’s immediate vicinity. Good old Jimmy goes right into work mode, figuring that Haywad must have a near accurate head count and assessment of the residents wellbeing by now. He takes note of the denizens at the edge of the Hex barely moving and questions if they’re even alive.

-Cue Vision discovering a group of completely immobile residents. Wary of the whole situation Vision assumes his normal superhero look and takes flight, discovering that the inner depths of the town are plenty active and behaving normally. This is a very well shot sequence just showing him flying and capturing the unsettling nature of what’s going on. While airborne Vision takes notice of a stopped car near the border.

-Turns out its Agnes in the car. She seems to be in a mental short circuit at the moment. She asks Vision for directions... in a town she supposedly grew up in. Vision worriedly does his mind trick to free her suppressed personality and she quickly identifies him as an Avenger, believing he’s there to help everyone. Vision does want to help but is clueless about what an Avenger is, so it seems he hasn’t regained any of his memories yet. This leads to the “Am I dead?” discussion from the trailer. Vision needs it clarified for him that Agnes believes he’s dead. Several times. Vision wants to leave Westview to figure out what’s going on but Agnes questions how. No one leaves, which isn’t true you just have to tick off a reality warping witch. Agnes identifies that Wanda is the one in peoples head, preventing them from even thinking of leaving. While that does sound incriminating we still don’t know everything that’s going on so I’m staying hopeful. Agnes isn’t however as she winds up going on about how “All is lost” and cackling until Vision zaps her brain back into the illusion. So I guess she isn’t evil here. Once Agnes is back on her disturbingly merry way Vision makes his way to the boundary line.

-Back with the trio Monica gets a response from her engineer associate who is coming with the way back into the Hex they started on last week and wants to head out to meet them. Darcy mentions they can’t do that. “Sure we can. I’m a whiz at hot wiring cars.” Ha ha ha ha ha! Okay that was funny. Monica thinks the worst case scenario is her getting whammied and dressed up again but it turns out Monica specifically can’t go back in because every time she crosses the boundary her cells get transformed. Monica balks at the data, mentioning she’s seen enough lab results for a life time. She goes on and talks about what she went through with her mother’s cancer and reveals that’s why she wants to help Wanda, because Monica has been through grief like her and wants to do what she can to help her through it.

-Darcy chooses to stay behind so she can find what Haywad is hiding, feeling it could help them get answers about the whole thing. Monica and Woo aren’t crazy about the idea because of how dangerous it is but relent and go on their way. The Son of Odin would be proud of you Darcy.

-Back in the Hex Wanda and Pietro talk about how nice Westview is and how their parents would have loved it. So of course Pietro ruins it by asking where the kids were until now. Okay that’s a bit unsettling. He thinks Wanda just had them asleep and didn’t want them traumatized, which starts getting her bothered. Pietro praises her for her handling of the ethical ramifications of her little bubble. Families and couples aren’t split up, most personalities are close to their normal ones, they even have better jobs. Pietro how do you know all of that? Wanda is surprised that he is okay with all of this, which sadly proves that Wanda is aware of what she’s doing. Pietro is actually impressed with how much Wanda’s powers have grown.

-Pietro continues the ominous vibe by asking how Wanda did all of this. She’s reluctant to tell him but he wins her over with their familial bond. Wanda doesn’t know how she’s done all of this, just remembers overwhelming and all consuming grief. So we’re about where we started and what’s behind all of this.

-Wanda takes a moment to compose herself and sees Pietro as his gunned down corpse for a moment, just like she saw Vision two episodes back. Pietro questions if she’s okay and balks when she tries to confirm she is. Seriously what is up with you Pietro. You better not be Mephisto I swear.

-Darcy finds something called Cataract in Haywad’s files. The file says its Eyes Only so I think she can’t see what it actually is but I don’t know. She sends an e-mail to Jimmy before she notices that Vision has made his way to the boundary. And she notices because Haywad did. Uh oh.

-Vision crosses the boundary but I wouldn’t say it’s successful. There’s an energy effect connecting him to the line, which seems to be trying to keep him in or pull him back in. Parts of Vision start breaking off and getting pulled back into the field.

-And where is Haywad during all of this? Just standing there doing nothing while commenting on how much Vision must want to escape. Okay Haywad if your going to be a jerk and possibly evil then can you at least be smart at it. There is no reason for you to just be standing around. Unless your hoping that some part of Vision is still remaining for you to collect but I highly doubt that will happen.

-Darcy charges in to try and help Vision but of course these guys are from incompetence incorporated so they keep her from helping. Oh Haywad is going to get the mother of all lighting bolts shoved up his rear when Thor finds out about this.

-Billy is somehow perceiving Vision’s struggle at the moment hearing his fathers voice in his head. He stops Tommy with telekinetic powers and goes to Wanda to save him.

-Vision is still desperately struggling and begs SWORD to help the people of Westview. Hero to the end that one.

-Pietro makes a tasteless joke about Vision can’t die twice and gets blasted for the remark. Should not move mouth faster than brain can think.

-Billy is able to to focus his powers to figure out what’s happening. They seem a bit different than Wanda’s. He’s either mentally linked to Vision in the moment or he’s clairvoyantly witnessing what happens. Billy worries that his father is dying.

-Wanda stops the town cold in its tracks and focuses her powers. Monica and Jimmy notice that the field is moving so it seems that Wanda is expanding it. The SWORD agents try to flee and the one who cuffed Darcy leaves her behind, only to get abandoned by his fellow agents. Delicious karma. The restores Vision once it passes over him but it doesn’t stop there. The Hex keeps growing and expanding, ensnaring almost all of the SWORD personnel. Only Haywad and a few agents remain and I know this is a bad thing but in the immediate moment for him I can only think “Yeah Wanda zap him, zap him good.” We see the Hex growing without end and the episode ends with a cut to Wanda as the red glow fades from her eyes.

Final thoughts

-Can’t tell if this is the era for the 90s or the 00s. I’m personally ascribing to 90s because of the commercial fitting the aesthetic of that era better.

-Evan Peters as Pietro is a delight. He honestly comes across as his character from the Fox movies dropped into the MCU and it is done very organically. I sincerely hope that he actually is the Fox version of Quicksilver brought to this universe because that would be amazing.

-Haywad has officially used up my good will towards him. I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt until he brought Monica’s mother into things. That was just low and solely to hurt her. At this point it’s a toss up over Wanda zapping him, Vision rearranging his insides from the outside, Monica frying his rear end with her incoming powers or Woo getting him trouble through good old fashion legal fu.

-I think we can safely say that the Vision sight we saw in episode 4 was just a hallucination as we see the same effects when Wanda looks at Pietro and Vision doesn’t wind up looking anything like his destroyed self from Infinity War once he crosses the boundary.

-Liked what they did with Tommy and Billy. I was not expecting them to do much with the two but they already have their powers. I’ve been hearing rumors about the Young Avengers making their way to the MCU but its one of the teams I don’t really follow. If it happens great, if not I don’t really care.

-Woo proves to be an MVP, schooling people with his words and decking them the heck out when he has to. You know mister Woo the United Nations is trying to put togethers a group known as the Agents of Atlas, could we interest you in a position.

-It is fully confirmed that Wanda does know what is going and is willingly continuing it. There is a semi-confirmation that she is trying to do right by the people of the town like trying to protect the children but the fact is she knows she’s keeping them trapped so there had better be a dang good reason for wanting to keep this going or so help me Wanda we will get someone in there that takes you down.

#Scarecrow Thoughts #Wandavision

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animatedminds · 3 years

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Pixar’s Soul: Review and Reaction

The first sentence I’ve always used to describe Pete Docter and Pixar’s Soul since watching it has nothing to do with the plot. It’s instead is a starstruck comment about the music: the movie begins with a cover of a Duke Ellington classic - Mercer Ellington’s “Things Ain’t What they Used to Be.” It ends with a jazz rendition of a classic from several decades later - but still quite a bit in our past - Curtis Mayfield’s soul classic “It’s Alright.” On a personal level, this would say way more about Soul that most other descriptions of it might to get me to watch it - were I not the kind of person who was absolutely intent on watching the movie day one regardless. Though I am myself a few generations after either of those artists were around, their music has been a part of my life since I was a kid and are essential on any playlist in my opinion. Curtis Mayfield’s music, especially, deserves all the love in the world, and hearing by surprise someone cover his work in a Disney movie made my entire day - and it would have, even if the film weren’t the meaningful ride it is.

But before we get into all that, lets also look at those songs. “Things Aren’t What They Used To Be” is played a la a teacher and a higher school band class: the students are learning and a bit difficult to listen to, while the music-loving teacher cringes at the front. But the choice of song tells us a lot. It’s a jazz standard: which means when it comes to jazz, it’s one of the essentials - a tune every band learns to play, and every jazz fan has heard before. The teacher is a jazzman - you can probably guess who - and the whole time he’s listening to the song you can hear him wanting to sit down and make it sound as perfectly as he hears it in his head. Remember that analogy. Heck, when you watch or rewatch the movie, remember the mindset Joe - because that’s who that teacher is, Joe Gardner, is in for that whole teaching scene in the first place: and remember how important the desire to make things perfect is to the greater story the movie is trying to tell.

“Things Aren’t The Way They Used To Be,” indeed. By the end, you have to wonder: isn’t that the point? Now the second song. “It’s All Right” is a smooth number for dancing to - not frenetic and wild dancing, but more a slow jam sort of vibe. BUt it’s the lyrics that are the most befitting the themes of the movie. Like several of Curtis Mayfield’s tunes “It’s All Right” is an ear worm of an R&B number that’s actually about being a peace with yourself. “You’ve got soul” - ha, I get it - “and everybody knows, that it’s all right.” Or, to quote instead my favorite verse of the song (I did say Mayfield was one of my favorites): “when you wake up early in the morning feeling sad like so many of us do, hum a little soul, make life your goal, and surely something’s gonna come to you.” This is before the spoilery part of the review, but they could not have picked a better song for the movie’s themes if they wrote it themselves.

Soul, after all, is ultimately a movie about how the things we do, the things we love, even the things that define us and should make us feel good in and of themselves, can become a shackle that prevents us from feeling the things that we adopt them to feel. Dreams - especially dreams deferred - can consume us rather than uplift us, and sometimes in pursuing them we may forget to live, and forget that others are living in this world and dreaming alongside us.

This, as you might be able to tell from the way I’ve described it, is a movie with a very strong, and most importantly very well related message that - as we’ve come to expect from Pixar’s output at this point - touches us in our jaded adult hearts. As a creative person with lofty dreams who has almost literally been where the protagonist is in this film - and as many in my generation also have gone through - it definitely feels like a film that was directed straight at the generation that first watched Toy Story as kids decades ago, and now feel somewhat unfulfilled as adults going into the world. Same as Inside Out (a movie specifically designed to make adults cry, in my opinion), the SparkShorts and arguably Onward (I definitely related to Bailey, some). So much like my review of Jingle Jangle, you have something of an idea where this review is going to go before the jump, but that’s okay. This movie did have ups and downs, but its just the kind of up Pixar is good at: they know they’re audience, and especially did for this gem. By the end, it can definitely make you feel as though you too can make it through, as long as you have a little Soul. However, it is not just the message, but the nuances and skill in which they relate that message (and they do come close to making decisions that could have ruined it, at times), which means it’s very difficult for me to put why this movie works into a review without SPOILERS. If you want to avoid SPOILERS, don’t hop over the pic and instead treat the above as your non-SPOILER review.

Soul is the story of one Joe Gardner, played by Jamie Foxx a brilliant early middle-aged pianist with lifelong dreams of becoming a jazz musician, who we first meet teaching part time band at a local high school. The inciting incident is an interesting choice: Joe gets a major offer - he can come on as a full time teacher, making his occupation a career! But Joe believes very much in the adage that “those who cannot do, teach” - in the sense that he wants to do. He cannot accept the position - over the advice of his mother - because that would mean giving up on his dream of being out there playing music for a living: a dream that has consumed him his entire life but which has given him nothing in return. Until now. While agonizing over the decision to take the position, Joe's life then gets a big twist: a former student of his, remembering him fondly years after they knew each other, has a hook for him to join the band of a famous jazz singer and saxophonist - played by Angela Basset (side note, here: jazz has long had a reputation for being something of a boys club, especially for certain instruments, and the choice to have the lead saxophonist and famous idol whose band Joe wants to join be a woman is a great choice that my entire jazz-loving and living family took note of). Joe is instantly elated - he rushes over and naturally aces the audition for the part in the band, and so is on cloud nine...

Until he dies. That’s when the plot really starts. Joe falls down a manhole like an astronomer in an aesop fable, and is now stuck on the slow escalator to The Great Beyond. Naturally, he’s not for that and tries to escape - pursued by overeager spiritual soul-accountant Terry - ending up in the Great Before instead, and leaving his body in a still-living coma (the implications that coma patients in general are people who are choosing not to die when they’re “supposed” to is something I’m sure the writers didn’t intend, so I’ll let it slide). There, Joe is pressganged into mentoring a pre-prepared soul for birth, helping them find their Spark for life - which Joe interprets as the one true purpose and dream they are meant to fulfill. Once he gets them their Spark, he will be able to steal a badge his mentee earns as fully fledged souls and . Luckily for his intended very morally suspect intent on spiritual larceny, he ends up with Soul #22 - and that’s #22 out of hundreds of billions - a soul who has simply never found a Spark despite having been in the Great Before for thousands of years. #22 doesn’t want to live, so she agrees to give him her patch when they’re done. But no mentor before has been able to inspire her (well, technically #22 is genderless, as she demonstrates in the story at Joe’s request, but she is voiced by Tina Fey), so how can Joe? When that proves to be too hard indeed, #22 instead decides to help Joe get back - mostly because she’s intrigued at why anyone would want to cling to life so badly - with the help of some mystics who astral project while in the Zone: where everyone goes when they’re fully immersed in what they do. This almost works, but at the last second everything goes awry: #22 gets mixed up with Joe when he returns, and so he doesn’t quite get back the way he wants to...

That’s enough plot summary for now. That’s all just the set-up anyway, for the choices in writing and concept that I’m about to talk about. As you might have been able to tell from that ominous last note, the middle chunk of Soul - almost right up until the climax, in fact - is actually a body-swap movie, a la Freaky Friday. #22 ends up in Joe’s body, so he has to get her to do the things he needs to get ready for his gig and get through the day while they wait for the mystic to bring a way to set everything right. And did I mention he’s in the body of a cat? Having been following the movie, this wasn’t entirely a surprise, but it was still not something I was entirely ready for coming in. I tend to shy away from that kind of story on a personal level, as body-swap narratives are nearly predominantly based on cringe moments and awkward misconceptions - and that sort of thing usually tends to make me want to leave the scene in question and get a cup of water until after the awkwardness passes. However, this isn’t really part of the review in the sense that I perceive that the movie being in that genre is a flaw - because ultimately that’s just an aspect of my personal taste. Rather, I use it to show just how strong a movie Soul was and how well its narrative choices resonated with its themes that ultimately while it did indeed partake in your typical body-swap narrative cringe moments - “look, the [redacted] in Joe’s body just ran into his boss / mom!” / “look, the [redacted] is having a bizarre conversation with Joe’s friends!” / etc - those moments actually add to the narrative rather than take you out of it. Joe as “friends,” as exemplified by the barber he goes to to get his hair ready for the gig when it inevitably gets ruined in a bout of hijinks (the barber being that extremely well-designed bearded character the internet went wild over). He goes to that barber all the time, talks with him constantly, and believes he knows him well. But it turns out that Joe’s so wrapped up in his wants and desires that he’s never even asked him about his life - he just assumed that the barber was like him, born to do that one thing he was good at. It takes #22′s innocent, slightly off-kilter and occasional philosophical questions about what the heck all this “life” stuff is about for Joe to learn that this person in his life didn’t even want to be where he ended up initially, he ended up there because that’s the way his life turned, but he loves it because it’s life and he appreciates the world he’s come to create around himself. Likewise, he runs into his mom, but while Joe has come to expect his mother to be dismissive of him and his dreams, it takes an accident with #22 for him to realize that he’s been so caught up in his desires and her in her preconceptions that neither of them have ever had a real talk about their relationship, nor given a chance to grow in each other’s eyes. You might notice a trend. One of Joe’s students - a brilliant trombonist - comes to tell him she’s quitting band, but she doesn’t really. She’s just insecure because the other students make fun of her. Joe knows this already - it’s become commonplace to him - so the doesn’t feel the need to do anything about it and instead focuses on his own needs. But #22 decides to talk to her on a whim, and this push and pull of insecurity but joy in what one is good at fascinates her, while it bores Joe. While - like any other New Yorker - public transit is a chore to Joe, the melting pot of people and music draws #22 in: best evidenced by the moment where Joe and #22 meet another great musician playing for tips in the subway. Joe, despite being capable of relating as a musician, just walks past him after appreciating the sound for a sec, while #22, entranced by the things people do, leaves something for him. The world is drab and lacking in vibrancy from Joe’s point of view, as evidenced by the very accurate grimy look of the high school he work at - but from #22′s seemingly jaded eyes seeing it for the first time, it’s full of wonder.

This actually creates an interesting character contrast on top of the one we already know: Joe is the idealist, and #22 is the cynic... right? Well, it turns out Joe doesn’t have much of an appreciation for the world around him - not intentionally, but still to a very strong degree - whereas #22 simply hasn’t had the chance to experience life yet and thus never knew what it was that made people want to be part of it. Life itself becomes her Spark, though neither of them realize it at the time. Lets just get the aesop out of the way now. Your dream is not your life: that’s what Soul wants to say. Things that compel you as a person may consume you, even embitter you, and prevent you from seeing the world around you for what it is. But that doesn’t make dreams a bad thing: people everywhere find that Spark from the dreams to keep moving forward - it’s just that it shouldn’t preclude living, nor should living preclude your dreams. Life is a delicate balance, and man is this movie serving up some complicated life lessons here. I immediately took this as a far more mature take on the message The Princess and the Frog stumbled somewhat through years ago (man, I’m turning out to be pretty hard on that movie in this blog). My biggest issue with PATF is that it tells us that Tiana should be less intent on her dream and find love instead, but doesn’t show us. It’s just characters chiding her for not settling down until the plot ultimately pushes a man in front of her and she realizes she should’ve been finding one all along. That’s a very harsh way of putting it, but it condenses what I’m trying to say: ultimately PATF pushes Tiana to realizations she doesn’t seem to need, whereas Soul has a similar message about life and does so by focusing on character development, about how the protagonist doesn’t have as firm a handle on his life as he thought, and thus brings us a take on the lesson that’s far less cut and dry.

If you’re a fan of The Incredibles, the comparison to Mr. Incredible is fairly easy. Joe, though well meaning and decent overall, is a very self-centered person who happens to be so for very sympathetic and relatable reasons. He just wants to do the thing he feels he was born to. He'll do anything to get back to life and do that thing, even for a single night. He’s consumed by this desire so much that he's oblivious to the people around him, unable to connect to the people he loves, and unable to find joy in anything but his dream. And man, as a young writer who knows in their heart of hearts they can do great things and feels pain at the idea of not doing so, that hits different let me tell you.

The lessons Joe learns from #22 even stick. It turns out that part of what caused Joe’s dream to fail all those time was because of that lack of connection with life. He never presented himself in a way that got people to take notice of him, he never pushed for that position he wanted even though people said no, he never made himself and his life so vibrant that he glowed in the eyes of others (and again, that hits different). That’s maybe the most simplistic message of the bunch, but as a person in the creative field it’s true that sometimes being the smartest person in the room isn’t enough: it’s making himself shine that ultimately clinches Joe the gig even after he almost lost it thanks to the day’s shenanigans.

But in the end, it doesn’t feel like he thought he would.

Remember when I said there are parts where the movie comes perilously close to kiboshing its message? That moment is one, it’s the one. Not that that moment is bad - far from it, it’s the best moment in the entire movie (and you can fight me on that if you want to). It’s because it’s the crossroads, the pin, the core of the entire film: depending on the choice they made after that point, that moment could have either been the best moment in the entire movie, or the moment that toppled everything.

The realization of Joe’s dream doesn’t feel like the explosion of confetti and catharsis that he expected. It was just another moment of his life, a great one, but it’s still just part of his life. So what does Joe do? Does he panic? Does he keep going until it feels good? Does he - as he would in a lesser movie trying to give a cookie cutter aesop - immediately quit and realize he should’ve been teaching all along? No, he does none of those things. He absorbs the moment. He realizes that at the end of the dream you’re still just living life, and that you have to appreciate that. Joe isn’t wrong for pursuit of his dream. He’s not wrong for believing that hopes and dreams make life so much more worthwhile. He’s wrong in thinking that those dreams are all that define us, and that their realization is all that makes people themselves worthwhile at all.

And in the end - though I may be getting a bit too referential for this - the unexamined life is just so much less fulfilling than the alternative.

And all that a message and a half! It hits different. It’s mature as all heck. It’s something people my age (especially in my generation), twice my age, half my age never learn. It’s a callsign that sometimes Pixar is still make movies for the people who were kids way back when Toy Story was released, and are now insecure adults wondering why the world isn’t as wonderful as they saw on the screen. It’s brilliant. I said before that Joe interprets the “Spark” to be one’s purpose in life. The one thing that makes them who they are, that they are on the planet to do. He is wrong, absolutely and utterly. And in that misconception, when #22 finally does get their Spark just from being on Earth and seeing what its life, he accuses them of leeching self-actualization over his own personal ambitions, fully believing that they didn’t find a “purpose" on her own, but just copied his. But the Spark, as it turns out, is just the joy of living, the thing that makes people want to live. It can come from a dream, or just from watching the beauty of the sun set over a leaf drifting in the wind. Only in understanding this can Joe finally understand what he’s been missing in life, only then can he reconcile with #22 and help her finally be born, only then can he walk into the world and know how he’s going to live it.

We never find out what Joe decides, whether he goes back to teaching, or continues with the band. The choice is open to him, but we never find out which one he takes - another choice that keeps the aesop from falling apart. The point of all of that wasn’t that Joe has to do one thing or another to be happy, it was that Joe needs to be happy and secure in himself before he chooses what his life should be. Either of those could make him happy. Neither of those could. But now he’s in a much better place to see it, and do what he can.

We also never find out what #22 is like when she (or he, etc) is born. The two of them never meet past the point where #22 goes to Earth. Their time together has passed, and #22′s life is now their own. And that’s a great choice either. I’ve seen the occasional person feel that the choice made in this paragraph or noted in the previous one made the story confusing, but they’re ultimately what make the story what it is. The answer isn’t the necessity of resolution, its the reaffirmation of the journey. It reminds me somewhat of Wreck-It Ralph (an example of the main Disney Studio delivering a complex aesop, rather Pixar delivering them all), where being a villain wasn’t Ralph’s problem - it was that he wasn’t happy doing the thing he loved. You have to live, from living you will learn, and from learning you will do. The sheer incredible execution of this message (as you may have guessed, it’s a fairly difficult one to relay adequately in a film narrative, and the movie goes non-traditional in conclusion to maintain it) would have made this film a recommend for me even if it wasn't also beautifully animated, very well acted, funny (there’s a Knicks joke that floored me), heartwarming and relatable. But it’s also all of those things, so I have to recommend it twice as much. It is, regrettably, another movie with a black lead where the lead spends most of it transfigured into a form that’s not a black person (a soul, and then a cat), and I’ve already seen some grumbling that instead for much of it a character explicitly coded as a white woman is in his body instead, but I perceive that as an issue that’s endemic to the industry than a fault in this movie specifically. Everyone does that, but this is the only movie I’ve seen where doing that is an essential part of how the narrative develops the characters (Joe has to not be himself in order to understand his life from an outside perspective, a la Scrooge as a ghost watching his own history), and so I don’t scorn the movie for it. I, however, would very much like Hollywood to start doing that less, and - hey - as a prospective writer that’s one of those things I plan to do my part to combat. This movie, however, gets a pass in my book in ways that the general usage of this concept does not. In short, you should see it. If you get the chance to see it right now, you should take it to feel good at the end of this incredibly insane year. If you don’t want to have to sign up for Disney+ to see it now, I get you and understand, but if you get a chance to see it later do not pass it up. It’s one of the few movies I’ve watched that are an instant buy when it becomes available on digital - and the last time a movie did that for me was BlacKKKlansman. Whatever you choose to do, do it well. Keep the spirit alive, always keep searching for the real you - because it’s not always easy to find, but it’s worth looking for - and always remember that you could always have a little soul.

#Soul #film review #Disney Pixar #Pixar #Pete Docter #Jamie Foxx #Tina Fey #the afterlife #self actualization #jazz #curtis mayfield #duke ellington #animated film #animation review #animated minds for animated times #Joe Gardner #22 #recommended

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doomonfilm · 3 years

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Thoughts : WandaVision [Disney+, Episodes 4-6] (2021)

After a heavily stylized trio of opening episodes, WandaVision has officially put the pedal to the metal with its next trio of episodes. The connections to the larger MCU have been firmly identified and established, which has generated a mountain of new questions, speculations and assumptions about where WandaVision, and in turn, the MCU as a whole are headed in the next few phases.

Editor’s note : This show is jumping in quality from episode to episode, and based on the response to the last blog entry on WandaVision, I am considering giving the final 3 episodes their own entries. If the likes on this blog entry surpass those of the previous WandaVision entry, I will do dedicated breakdowns of the final 3 episodes on the date that they are released.

THE STORY THUS FAR

Episode 04 : We Interrupt This Program In the wake of The Blip, Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) is returned to the hospital where she once sat by the side of her mother’s side. Upon returning to reality, Monica learns that Maria Rambeau has passed away due to cancer while she was gone, which devastates her to no end. Monica returns to S.W.O.R.D. in hopes of finding peace, but she is immediately thrust into the mysteries surround the town of Westview, New Jersey. CIA Agent Jimmy Woo (Randall Park) meets Monica outside of Westview, where he clues her in on his missing witness that was once in the town, as well as the anomaly of amnesia that has taken over those in the surrounding communities. Monica and Jimmy approach the city only to discover it is covered by a mysterious invisible barrier, and while inspecting the barrier, Monica is pulled in. S.H.I.E.L.D. calls in the Army, the FBI and a number of specialists in various fields, including astrophysicist Dr. Darcy Lewis (Kat Dennings), who stumbles upon a mysterious signal that allows those outside the barrier to view the events within in a sitcom format.

Episode 05 : On a Very Special Episode... Wanda and Vision are doing their best to adjust to raising Tommy (Baylen Bielitz) and Billy (Gavin Borders), but find themselves overwhelmed until an overly enthusiastic Agnes steps in to help. While Vision questions Wanda on the recent strangeness, Tommy (Jett Klyne) and Billy (Julian Hilliard) suddenly jump to the age of ten, further confounding Vision. Outside of The Hex (a nickname for the anomaly surrounding Westview coined by Darcy), S.H.I.E.L.D. continues to gather intel and ramp up efforts to collect information in the wake of Monica Rambeau’s return, but after an attempt to communicate to Wanda directly goes awry, Wanda presents herself directly to S.H.I.E.L.D. with a warning to stay away. Vision has an encounter with Norm (Asif Ali) that causes him to reach his breaking point, and while he is confronting Wanda later that night, a knock on the door reveals that Pietro (Evan Peters) has somehow returned... but something is different about him...

Episode 06 : All-New Halloween Spooktacular! It’s Halloween in Westview, and the Maximoff family is preparing for a night of fun and adventure. Tommy is excited for all of the candy he will be collecting, but Billy finds himself concerned with a number of issues, chiefly the surprise emergence of Pietro onto the scene and the troubled waters flowing between Wanda and Vision. Wanda attempts to gather the family for their night out, but Vision states that he has obligations with the Neighbor Watch, which disappoints Wanda. Pietro offers to step in, and his mischievous influence leads to Tommy and Billy’s discovery of their powers. Outside of The Hex, tensions are running deeper between Agent Rambeau and Agent Hayward, and as a result, Hayward expels Rambeau, Jimmy and Darcy from the camp. The trio manages to sneak back in, and while Rambeau and Jimmy head to meet a colleague of Rambeau’s who can assist them in entering The Hex, Darcy breaks into Hayward’s digital files, uncovering a goldmine of shadiness. Vision, using his Neighborhood Watch story as cover, attempts to investigate the outskirts of Westview, but after breaking through the outer wall of The Hex he finds himself being literally torn apart as he is pulled back in, all in front of the eyes of Hayward and his team. Billy picks up on what is happening, and in a fit of desperation, Wanda makes a move to save Vision that drastically alters the entire scenario surrounding The Hex.

ADDITIONAL RESOURCES

Beyond The Trailer YouTube Channel

New Rockstars YouTube Channel

I was unfamiliar with Beyond The Trailer prior to Episode 03 of WandaVision, but the discovery of the channel has provided me with sharp insight, as well as a bit of humor, and Grace Randolph is the only creator to my knowledge that is providing live reactions on episode premier dates.. New Rockstars and Erik Voss continue to mostly knock their analysis of the show out the box. Oddly enough, however, I have found myself pulling back from the YouTube camps of speculation as the series progresses. This is not a shot at any of the YouTubers that are dedicating their time and attention to the show, but rather a testament to the skill with which WandaVision was crafted, and the compelling mystique it has generated on its own.

THOUGHTS ON THE SHOW In all honesty, I have no idea how this overarching story of Wanda, Vision, the town of Westview, Monica Rambeau and S.W.O.R.D. are going to resolve themselves, and I couldn’t love that fact any more than I already do. The amount of detail infused into this show is insane : the way that the aspect ratio continues to shift depending on the “reality” we are viewing is a stroke of simple genius, the use of CMBR waves creating a television signal is a very subtle subtextual reminder of what it was like to take in entertainment prior to the advent of streaming, and the amount of Easter Eggs being dropped would put the Easter Bunny to shame. Just when we think we’ve got things figured out enough to hazard a guess, we are thrown monumental curveballs, and the whole while characters like Darcy, Jimmy Woo and Pietro are asking the same questions we are as viewers.

Wanda Maximoff had been using a very restrained, comical version of her powers up until this group of episodes, but now that her Chaos Magic has revealed itself, many are speculating that she may actually be the antagonist of the series, rather than the protagonist. It is clear that Wanda is controlling the majority of the Westview anomaly with her powers, but certain occurrences such as the birth of Tommy and Billy, their sudden aging or the appearance of the X-Men Quicksilver denotes that someone else is pulling strings that impact Wanda’s reality as well. It is also crystal clear that her anger and emotions are being held at bay by the thinnest of barriers, and with each step closer to her losing control, the real world ramifications get murkier and more dangerous.

What on Earth is going on with Vision? We are given a brief glimpse of the actual “reality” behind Wanda’s created “reality”, and the most jaw-dropping revelation up to that time is the seemingly dead Vision interacting with Wanda in her created world. He is no longer in possession of the Mind Stone, and the infamous damage to his head (courtesy of Thanos) is still very much present. S.W.O.R.D. acting Director Tyler Hayward decided to reveal that S.W.O.R.D. was storing Vision’s corpse at the time that Wanda supposedly broke in and stole it, but even the validity of that is questionable considering how unlikeable Hayward chooses to be. I am also curious if the reason that everyone acts so cagey around Vision is because they see him as a corpse. Vision also seems to have holes in his overall awareness, including no knowledge of the Avengers, which makes you wonder who he truly is on top of what is going on with him.

Monica Rambeau seems to be holding back from exerting control over the situation at hand, especially in light of the fact that she’s the only person who has been on both sides of The Hex and has flatly declared that Wanda is the one in control. There is also an intentional glossing over of key things revolving around Monica that continue to stand out, chiefly among them being her lab readings that appear to have been whited out by a bright light, and the caginess exhibited whenever any references to Captain Marvel are made. She is also clearly a thorn in the side of S.W.O.R.D., and in spite of her connection to S.W.O.R.D. originator Maria Rambeau, it is clear that her presence is not welcome in the camp investigating The Hex.

Dr. Darcy Lewis and Jimmy Woo are quickly becoming not only the fan favorites of the show, but the pairing we never knew that we needed. Darcy’s massive intellect, wealth of knowledge and razor-sharp sarcastic wit pair brilliantly with Woo’s empathic, perceptive abilities and kind-hearted, wholesome nature. With the mystery falling squarely into their laps, they have become the perfect guides through the madness for curious viewers, as many of their questions and concerns mirror those of the audience.

Pietro Maximoff may be the most intriguing appearance of any character in the MCU due to the possible implications that lie with his emergence. Is he actually Quicksilver? The alarms sounded during his appearance, so did he bring himself into The Hex, or was he allowed in by someone? If he is not the Pietro that we are familiar with, and he is playing games in regards to whether or not he is the real deal, then why does Wanda briefly see him just as dead as she sees Vision? Many YouTubers are speculating that the progression of decades used by the sitcom format is intentionally mirroring the decade jumps in the latest series of X-Men films, which is possibly causing some sort of fold in space-time that is combining alternate realities... whatever the explanation is for the emergence of the Evan Peters version of Quicksilver, I’ve never seen anything like this in media, and am wholly invested in seeing where this stroke of genius leads us.

What exactly are Tyler Hayward‘s intentions with Vision, The Hex and Wanda? Why is he being so cagey with information and so ruthless with his control? What is his deal in regards to the clear-cut resentment he has for Monica Rambeau and her connections to those with powers, seemingly specifically Carol Danvers? Is he the true villainous antagonist, or is he just a pawn in a much bigger scheme?

THE QUESTIONS

- If Evan Peters is now Pietro Maximoff outside of the Fox X-Men franchise, is this the indicator that mutants now exist in the MCU? Or is this simply a meta-glitch to setup the rumors of similar occurrences that will happen in the upcoming Spider-man film?

- Why is Dottie still not on the board of identified individuals trapped in The Hex? Even Agnes is on the board, though she does not have a real-life identifier as of yet, which makes her mysterious as well.

- Who are the kids in the commercials, and what is their tie to the mysterious pair that appear in every commercial?

- Is all the talk of S.W.O.R.D.’s astronaut program and specialized aerospace engineers a way to set up the eventual introduction of Reed Richards (and eventually the Fantastic Four) into the MCU? Is this who Monica and Jimmy Woo are heading to meet in Episode 06?

- Is all of the hexagon imagery a way to establish a motif of evolving DNA? Does Vision mentioning the Charles Darwin book Descent of Man push this motif into the realms of mutation by way of genetic evolution?

- As Darcy mentions in Episode 06, Monica Rambeau’s two journeys through The Hex have fundamentally changed her down to the molecular level... are we seeing the emergence of Photon, and on a bigger scale, the mode in which Mutants will be created?

- Why is Marvel so good at cliffhanger endings? The last two episodes, in particular, have made waiting a week for the continuation of the story one of the most difficult things I have ever done. I’m hard-pressed to think of a show since The Sopranos that has kept me this anxious from week to week in anticipation of what will happen next.

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battlestar-royco · 4 years

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here is part 2 of my sci fi recs masterlist! again, i could’ve gone on with even more recs but i decided to draw the line here. this set for the most part errs on the darker side, thematically, visually, conceptually etc. i personally find it super thought-provoking and intriguing but that’s just me. i highly recommend reading the tw under the cut if you’re thinking of watching, especially the matrix and space gothic slides. please view at your discretion <3

part 1/2

If you like WLW (um idk why I only made this slide based on identity; it just kinda happened lmao but I think it works):

Siren: (tw: parent loss, grief, thalassophobia) a mermaid surfaces in a cove town looking for her lost sister. Polyamorous relationship between a man, a black/indigenous woman, and the mermaid!!!! Environmentalism! As a person who has thalassophobia, I didn’t find this too hard to watch. There aren’t that many underwater scenes, thankfully.

Black Mirror: San Junipero: (tw: grief, but otherwise none that I recall; it’s pretty lighthearted) two women meet in a beach resort in the 80s and fall in love. Interracial wlw!

Orphan Black: (tw: suicide, infertility, rape implication, VB, language, drug use) a woman realizes she is one of several clones and uncovers an elaborate corporate conspiracy. This is one of my personal favorites with great rep of complex women of all ages and bodily autonomy. Several central queer characters and a black male secondary character!

Starfish: (tw: grief, a few jump scares and brief monstrous imagery, blood) after the death of her best friend, a young woman breaks into the deceased’s apartment and discovers a chain of music tapes that could save the world. Weird, subtle, and experimental. Not to sound like a surfer but you kinda have to allow yourself to be in the vibe. The main character and her friend were definitely a thing imo.

Annihilation: (tw: body horror, VB, disturbing imagery) a team of women scientists explore an anomaly that rapidly mutates genes. There are canonical and coded wlw and multiple (light-skinned) POC in this but the rep is short-lived. I put it on because although it should’ve been more ambitious with the casting, I think it breaks *some* ground for Hollywood sci fi with the all-woman team and more than one WOC. Wack ending though.

Mad Max: Fury Road: (tw: rape implication, violence) I think everyone knows about this one but: in the apocalypse, a woman breaks 4 younger women out of a harem. A badass car chase across the desert ensues. A bit light on plot/worldbuilding, but sooooo cool-looking and very thematic!!!!

If you liked STRANGER THINGS:

It: (tw: VB) don’t actually watch this lmao I’m serious. It’s really stupid, and not in a funny way. But I do think Stranger Things was inspired by this story overall. The modern It films are better but they’re also really kjslsklskls stupid? Stephen King in general is obsolete imo.

The Thing: (tw: VB) an alien that can take the form of others wreaks havoc on a scientific facility in Antarctica. It’s dark and vibey, but I feel like it’s just Alien in Antarctica with truly terrible special effects tbh?? Others feel differently. It’s also classified as sci fi/horror, so stay away if you’re easily scared! Not too good on representation.

Super 8: (tw: some language) a group of preteens witnesses an alien-caused train crash as they’re filming a home movie. Not diverse but I definitely think it inspired a lot of sci fi for the 2010s, ESPECIALLY Stranger Things. Not too scary either!

ET: (tw: it’s been a really long time since I watched so I don’t remember but it’s rated PG) I think everyone knows what this is about!

Alien: (tw: VB) truckers in space discover a deadly evolving alien. One of my favorite movies of all time! I love the aesthetic and the mood and worldbuilding so much. Ellen Ripley is one of the first Final Girls in the horror genre. I personally found this more of a sci fi than a horror movie but I’d say stay away if you’re nervous!!

Terminator: (tw: VB) a deadly android is sent to kill a woman who’s destined to birth the man who saves the world. Terminator 2 is way better imo because it centers on Sarah rather than the dudes saving her and trying to kill her. But it’s still worth a watch, you know, for the culture.

If you liked CONTAGION:

War of the Worlds: (tw: blood) pretty straightforward aliens come to Earth to take over. Sorry to rec another T*m Cruise movie but I really like the alien design and the apocalypsey feel of this one. Baby Dakota Fanning is in it too!

Falling Skies: (tw: VB, body horror, rape) alien invasion yada yada but the alien lore gets more interesting as it goes on. It’s kind of cheesy and yeah maybe I did discover it by looking up the iCarly boyfriend (and what about it??) but it’s nice to have on in the downtime. An Asian woman co-stars.

Knowing: (tw: blood) school students unearth a time capsule that contains a sheet from a girl who predicted all the tragic world events between 1959-2009. This is NOT a good movie but it’s SO hilarious to me because of the acting and contrivances. Fun to group-watch!!!!

10 Cloverfield Lane: (tw: VB, emotional abuse) a woman wakes up in a bunker to a captor who tells her that the world has fallen to alien apocalypse. I think this movie elevates the original Cloverfield in pretty much every way. Again, super tense and moody. The conflict revolves around whether or not the captor is being truthful.

Train to Busan: (tw: extreme VB and disturbing imagery) a man and his daughter are on a train when a zombie hops on at the last minute. It’s Korean with an all-Asian cast; Choi Woo-shik co-stars. I definitely wouldn’t watch if you’re scared of blood and gore. It’s very gross and violent.

12 Monkeys: (tw: ableism, violence) a man from the 2030s is sent back to the 1990s to prevent the plague that will end the world. I think the aesthetics of this are really cool but otherwise it’s not a favorite. But I think it appeals to people who like apocalypse and time travel stuff!

If you liked THE MATRIX:

Strange Days: (tw: rape, sex, nudity, VB, racism, police brutality) memories can be saved to hard-drives and sold on the black market for exorbitant prices. Very problematic and triggering presentation of rape, but young Angela Basset stars and there’s a condemnation of police brutality that’s still relevant 20+ years after its release.

Upgrade: (tw: ableism, VB, fridging) a disabled man installs an AI in his spine to help him move and investigate the murder of his wife. The premise is glaringly ableist and I feel weird even recommending it tbh but it’s got great visuals and a few good twists.

Altered Carbon: (tw: VB, weird interracial body switching, uhhh I haven’t finished this one IDK) in a society where human bodies are interchangeable, a man wakes up in a new body after 300 years of his mind being dormant. A Latina woman co-stars, two Asian characters in a subplot, a few other POC here and there as well. I think season 2 stars a black man.

eXistenZ: (tw: VB, anti-Asian racism, general weirdness? IDK it’s hard to describe. There are guns made out of bones and weirdly sexual visuals.) after someone tries to assassinate her, a video game designer and her bodyguard must play through her virtual reality game in order to save the only copy of the game.

Minority Report: (tw: VB, eye removal/insertion) all crimes are predicted and criminals reported before they are committed. The main character is preemptively accused of murder. This one is really white but it was one of the first movies that got me into sci fi. Early 2000s Colin Farrell <3.

If you liked WESTWORLD:

Humans: (tw: uncanny valley, objectification) androids are household helpers and public assistants throughout Britain until one day they start developing consciences. It hits a lot of the themes of Westworld without all the unnecessary pretentiousness, “edginess,” and “grittiness,” and it stars Gemma Chan and Colin Morgan!!

Blade Runner 2049: (^) an android is ordered to find and kill a human/android hybrid. It’s not without its issues but it’s one of my favorite movies of all time, right up there with Alien. So beautiful, so thematic, so thought-provoking (to me, anyway. I know a lot of people thought it was way too slow).

Ex Machina: (^) a man is invited to a private estate to help test the intelligence of an android. It’s kind of predictable imo but you know Oscar Isaac and Sonoya Mizuno are in it so we have to stan, and so is Domhnall Gleeson, for the SW fans! I like how isolated and quiet it feels.

I Am Mother: (tw: blood, gaslighting) after an extinction event, a young woman is raised by a lone android in a human repopulation facility until one day a woman knocks. It starts off slow and a bit generic, but I’m obsessed with the 2nd and 3rd acts of this movie---good acting, dialogue, and fantastic visuals. It has that same isolated feel as Ex Machina with only three characters, all of which are women/woman-coded!!!

If you liked ALIEN (space gothic):

Battlestar Galactica (2004-2008 reboot): (tw: genocide, war, colonization, VB, uncanny valley, rape, infidelity) space opera that follows humanity as it fights the ever-evolving and powerful enemy of their own creation: androids named Cylons. Um? I L O V E THIS SHOW SO MUCH and I truly do think it’s everything sci fi should be. There is a really unfortunate Miss Saigon-esque romance plot in season 1 and a lazily-written love triangle involving a black woman in season 3, but otherwise it’s one of my all-time favorites and I highly recommend. It’ll spin your mind and tug your heartstrings for years.

Black Mirror: Men Against Fire: (tw: genocide, war, nudity) soldiers in the near future protect citizens from mutant zombies, but one soldier starts experiencing strange hallucinations in the field. This is such an underrated Black Mirror episode starring a black man. There’s brief objectification of a black woman but it’s very anti-military and it has an interesting sterile aesthetic that reminds me of Alien.

High Life: (tw: rape, black holes/space anxiety, very disturbing) prisoners are given the option to join a space expedition and serve as experimental subjects en route to a black hole. Please please stay away if you are triggered by sexual violence of any kind. There’s almost no physical violence in this movie but it’s psychologically haunting imo.

The Faculty: (tw; VB, drug use) high schoolers discover their teachers are being possessed by an invading alien race. I LOVE THIS MOVIE LMFAOOOO. The cast is SO wild---Elijah Wood, John Oliver, Usher, Salma Hayek, Josh Hartnett??? And I’m probably forgetting more. The combination of the cast, the terrible dialogue, and shitty special effects is PEAK comedy imo. But bear in mind it’s bloody!!

Prometheus: (tw: body horror, VB, uncanny valley) a crew of scientists heads on a deep space mission to find the aliens who created the human race. A prequel to Alien, but I kind of view it as its own thing. Despite the plot holes, I love this movie too! It was one of my sci fi gateways and the visuals are stunning. It’s pretty gory though so if that’s not your thing stay away.

Life: (tw: extreme VB) a lesser Alien, but it provides all the space gothic tropes (jokey crew, shots of space, really pretty spaceship, everyone dies, creepy alien) with a well-known cast---Gyllenhaal, Reynolds, etc.

The X Files: (tw: a few episodes contain 90s racism, sexism, queerphobia etc but you can skip them) a lot of people have watched this so I barely have to explain, but it’s one of my favorites. Two FBI agents investigate multiple aliens and get involved in government conspiracies along the way. A good gateway!

A Quiet Place: (tw: child loss, VB, tension) I think most people know what this is about too. Alien apocalypse with aliens that hunt by sound. The daughter in the family is deaf, and so is the actress who portrays her. The representation of deafness was critically acclaimed.

#maxine talks sci fi #movie recs #maxine did you read/watch

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savrenim · 4 years

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mx savrenim! mx. savrenim! I have a writing question: Im writing a story about people who can see the future, and I'm wondering how you made it feels more like a memory not like, a gut wrenching tragedy? Its deffo painful, but Im pretty sure you mentioned wanting to give it a happy ending? If so: how. The concept of future vision is so cool but the implications and the way it plays out is horrifying and heartbreaking rip. I just wanna give my characters some chance at a happy ending

gods okay this is a good question that I have a lot of Weird Strong Feelings about bc time is the single thing that I have the strongest opinions about let’s go under the cut

so the thing that makes your question interesting to me-- “how do you make a story with future powers not a gut-wrenching tragedy”-- is that..... to me, at least, there is absolutely nothing inherent in the setup of future-seeing powers that should imply that the story should be a gut-wrenching tragedy? your problem is assuming that there has to be anything tragic involved. free yourself from that perception and you will be free to write whatever you want.

ifmlam is a gut-wrenching tragedy right now because the feeling that I was going for was “hmmmm the exact gut-wrenching feeling that The World Was Wide Enough makes me feel” and it’s having a happy ending because I decided to write a fic bc “goddamnit I need a fix-it, like, right now.” Seeing the future is cool but it’s also just a plot-and-setting device. and the story feels the way it feels because I designed how it works around exactly how I wanted it to feel?

my current other major project, trash novel, is about a seer who hunts down other seers for dramatic stop-the-world-from-devolving-into-war-and-maybe-ending reasons. except the vibes are... SO different. the vibes are “shit there’s like a dozen way way overpowered teenagers and twenty-something-year-olds who hold the fate of the world in their hands except they’re being dumb assess getting overly involved in personal drama with one another and are maybe going to blow up the planet.” and so instead of this quasi-religious worldwide honor around a single Seer and visions of the future that work one particular way and the main character being this poor fragile darling that needs to be protected and the reverence with which the plot treats the usage of future-powers, the main character of the opus series named herself “Fuck You” and has the power to see like ten seconds tops into the future and uses it to be really fucking good at magic fistfighting and accidentally gets involved in trying to take over a foreign/soon to be enemy government while trying to make friends with the ambassador that it’s her mission to protect him and like spy on that government to make sure they’re not messing with the future, but because he’s really pissed off at his ex and his shitty parents kind of for trying to force him to marry his ex and also his entire home country for siding with his ex he decides to take advantage of the fact that Saes thinks that overthrowing a government is maybe appropriate friend bonding activities to Take Revenge. and overthrow the government. meanwhile his cousin just outright admits in her second scene that she is trying to take over the first their government in then the world and is like 90% of the way there and really isn’t trying to hide the fact that she has committed to a plan that makes everyone think she is The Villain but Saes in particular bc Saes doesn’t want her home country to be conquered, but while Saes thinks this makes them moral enemies Asterna thinks that Saes is very hot because Saes is the single person who can beat her in a fistfight. they get into a misunderstanding fake-dating relationship for at ~80k words of the first arc. the ex is also trying to take over the government partially bc he feels the family pressure to continue their influence and partially bc he’s still in love with Luka and wants to try to win him back. at least three main characters have very poorly thought out one-night stands with other characters just for spite. there’s a character whose name is “Godkiller.”

you can probably tell from the description that it’s very VERY different vibes from ifmlam. there are seers with more longreaching abilities than 10 seconds in the setting, who are trying to use their powers to seriously manipulate outcomes of events, and some deep political implications of that; it’s not all flashy ridiculousness. there are parts of it that get tragic (gods do parts of it get emotional and gods are some of those emotions tragic), but it’s never terribly tragic for very long, and it never feels like a heart-wrenching tragedy as a genre. everyone is a gay mess, extra emphasis on the gay AND the mess, and it reads like ridiculous action drama intrigue almost like a DnD campaign?

and it’s because of both (a) the seer powers that are being highlighted work differently but also (b) the seer pov character has a fundamentally different perception of themselves. Aaron Burr sees himself as pretty much a McGuffin and he hates it and there’s a large portion of his character and character arc and hence the plot itself that revolves around him not feeling like he has any sort of control over his life or the impact of his powers. he’s afraid of himself and what he can do, he’s afraid of letting people in and being used, he’s afraid of the impact that he or someone wielding him might have on the world, and he doesn’t quite see himself as a person, more like a glass statue of one housing powers -- and that contributes to the tragedy and vastly affects the tone of the whole thing. when the viewpoint character feels helpless, when the viewpoint character doesn’t believe in themselves, when the viewpoint character is pretty much a McGuffin: incredibly powerful and useful to powerful people, but unable to control their own fate -- that gives the story a certain feeling.

Saes Imirin is nothing like Aaron Burr because Saes isn’t afraid of herself. Saes is completely at peace with what she can do, and actually thinks it’s pretty cool. She’s working for the people she’s working for because she’s decided that’s probably where she’ll do the least harm in the world, and also because she likes her apartment. if she changes her mind she changes her allegiance. she has stared down armies and has never really feared for herself, because she’s a fucking badass, and she knows that she can always pick the future where she wins so why should she ever feel afraid.

if you don’t want your characters to feel tragic, then don’t have them be afraid of themselves. don’t have them doubt themselves. but also, construct the way that future-seeing powers work so that they’re not set up to be a tragedy. the biggest being the most important pair of questions: how accurate/specific are the powers? and how unchangeable is the future?

Saes Imirin’s powers are 100% accurate and 100% specific, albeit contained to usually one to three but at most ten seconds. The future is also 100% changeable; the way her powers works is that she sees all possible futures and then physically moves the way that she did in the one where she’s won. Aaron Burr’s powers are..... death visions I’d put at, like.... 90sh % “accuracy”? in that they always show a possible and in fact usually most probable for the timeline we’re on now sort of death for someone. but they’re also very changeable. but time itself has a momentum and “pushes back” against those changes in the plot of ifmlam (someone doesn’t die in one duel will die in another, etc) which lends to a strong feeling of inevitability despite the relative amount of freedom those powers have.

imo, future-seeing usually lends itself to tragedy when it’s about seeing something terrible/attempting to subvert something that cannot be fixed because it is the future. if you establish early on that all visions/prophecies must come true exactly, that will usually put a fair amount of tension on your plot and it will make things feel tragic, especially if characters end up getting a future that they really really don’t like. the more unchangeable things are, the more it usually tends towards tragedy.

(I say “usually” because, like. I’m still waiting for a story in which future-seeing is absolute and someone gets a prophecy that “and if you choose to go forward and step through this room your fate will be sealed, you will die on this specific day in this exact way and nothing in the universe can change that”, the character goes “cool”, does it, and promptly begins taking advantage of their immortality up until that day to do Utterly Ridiculous Things to become a weird hyper luck-based superhero of, like, “I can jump off this building bc in the vision I was fine and unhurt so I can’t get wounded in any sort of way that’ll make me unable to run and jump around” “I can totally try eating this mystery goo let’s see what it does” “hmmm the enemy fired their superbomb into the heart of our capital guess I just have to sit here next to it so that it will keep malfunctioning in some strange unspecified way and not going off because it can’t kill me here and now my fate is set in stone” etc. just. someone give me that comedy p l e a s e. I’m picturing Monty Python level of shenanigans.)

but yeah, usually, the more set in stone a future is, the more likely a story is to take a turn for the tragic, because when the future isn’t ~set in stone~ prophecies function more as useful warnings that can be interpreted to do useful things and save the day and not terrible foreboding omens of doom. high accuracy with high changeability is a cool superpower. low.... specificity, at least, leads to stories where usually you go “oH SHIIIIIT” afterwards as you get the end and the last thing clicks in place and now the entire plot in hindsight is So Much Different and they only lend themselves to tragedy if they’re useless as warnings and are just “fuck oh THAT’S what it meant and if I understood it I could have changed it”. and then inherent low changeability is both easiest to lend to tragedy and imo the hardest to write because you write yourself into a corner? (and you also make some pretty deep philosophical statements about determinism and free will depending on how you characterize time.) but so long as everyone has a chance to change things, the story won’t feel hopeless.

this has gotten long and rambly bc it’s ungodly o clock in the morning and, like, if the heart of the thesis of your story is “knowing the future is Fucked Up and Fucks You Up” and your story is on the deep seated societal implications about a world where some measure of seeing the future exists, like.... there are ways in which things might be tragic, but there are ways to counter that by making things mundane? a la lightening benders in legend of korra working at electricity plants. having seers with tiny mundane powers and/or who don’t really care about their powers and don’t use them too much or who just think of them as annoying side noise, but at the heart of it, oops stealing also from mob psycho 100 bc oops I just rewatched it and am mildly obsessed with it and its message and just dear gods how it manages to pull off its emotional impact....

psychic powers are just another trait. like people who can run fast or who study hard or sing really well or have strong body odor, or have psychic powers. they don’t make you any more special than anything else. who you are and what you do isn’t set in stone, it’s choices that you can make.

and finally, if your world is tragic bc you’ve decided to lean into the “the public perceives seers as special / dangerous / other “ and so you don’t want to adjust how the powers themselves work and how the public sees it, there’s always the trick of just, like.... let characters’ actions have meaning. let them win. and it won’t be a tragedy, not really.

#loooong post below cut #my writing #advice

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innenofutari · 5 years

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An Analysis of Vanitas’s Personality (meta)

I’ve always wanted to write some little meta for Vanitas no Carte, more specifically Vanitas, who probably is one of my favorite characters overall. I can’t help but find his entire character so well-built and intriguing! Most notably how he is written to be the center of the story- he’s like a “key” to the “catbox”; once you understand him, you can understand the themes and mysteries of the story (or at least that’s what I believe Mochijun is going for currently).

Diving into his mindset is, let me tell you, one hell of a confusing ride. But, at the end of it, I think I managed to form my own interpretations pretty well. Also, considering that he’s the type of character meant to be a mystery, feel free to agree or disagree with this meta, after all this is only the way I view things, and your interpretations aren’t any less valid than mine. With that being said, you better sit down because I’m one motherfucker who talks your ears off I’m so sorry.

1. Vanitas’s “change of mood” in the manga:

I think I want to start by talking about one of the things about Vanitas that caught my attention while reading the manga for the first time, and this is Vanitas’s “attitude change”. While I was reading, it was so subtle and gradual that I didn’t even properly realize until halfway through the catacombs arc. That instantly piqued my attention and I, a moron as I am, went “Wait didn’t this idiot act completely differently ten chapters ago?”. So why, exactly, did this dumbass change his demeanor so drastically? Well, he kind of didn’t, really.

At the start of the series, we all know Vanitas looked to be in “a good mood”; he laughed all the time, constantly wore a smile on his face and seemed like he was having fun with everything around him, yet suddenly, he got grumpier, angrier, snapping at the smallest things and so on. This never had anything with his temper and feelings, but everything to do with trust.

Now, what exactly do I mean by “trust”? I’m sure everyone reading this already knows, but I’ll talk about it anyway because it’s almost three in the unholy morning and I’m running solely on cans of soda.

I’ll start by saying that there is no more effective way to conceal your feelings than by wearing a grin on your face; one smile can mean a multitude of things, and it’s very hard to tell anything about a person based on that. The “smiling tactic” is an extremely effective way of obtaining information without unintentionally giving any to the person you’re trying to take information from.

Even when August is literally choking him, and Vanitas is clearly in pain, his smile stays on, unwavering, from the beginning to the very end of his interrogation. Later, August himself even acknowledges that he himself couldn’t discover shit about Vanitas after all, since Vanitas is so well guarded.

His smile also serves another purpose other than to omit, and it’s exactly to extract information from other people.

Vanitas relies a lot on charm and charisma to gather information. He knows people are more willing to talk to someone friendlier, who wears a smile on their faces all the time and to who they can feel a sense of security and trust towards.

Based on this, it’s pretty safe to assume that with Noé at first was the same, wasn’t it? His enthusiasm at the beginning never really existed (although I still believe his instant interest towards Noé is pretty real, like he gravitated towards him). He uses his smiles to conceal, to gather information and also to taunt people (e.g. Astolfo), but it’s not truthful.

For me, Vanitas’s sudden “change” was one of the biggest proofs of his trust on Noé, and marks the beginning of when he truly started to see him as someone he could (kind of) confide in. You could argue that Vanitas jumping in the Altus portal was also a sign of trust, but I disagree. That still felt weirdly “calculated”, he knows someone with a personality like Noé’s would never let someone die in front of their eyes, so he gambled on this possibility. Vanitas trusted his own understanding of Noé’s personality, not Noé himself. However, what would he even gain by acting grumpy next to Noé? Nothing, right? He’s just exposing himself needlessly.

Now the question, what exactly sparked this sudden change in the way Vanitas felt about Noé? For the when, I think it’s pretty obvious what scene it was.

This scene is very important for many reasons. Each of Vanitas’s expressions here tell their own story and capture the nature of his contradicting feelings so well. But, I’ll get to these “contradictions” in a second, now I wanted to talk about something else: “hope”.

It’s no news to anyone that Vanitas is like, depressed as shit and is pretty much passively suicidal and, of course, entirely disillusioned with the world and society as a whole. He believes people and vampires alike are inherently selfish, twisted beings. Creatures so wicked that there is no point to even reason with them. Vanitas doesn’t have any hope whatsoever, both in himself and others. For him, the person is already drowning before even stepping into the lake.

Even so, I firmly believe that there is a side of Vanitas that wished so fervently to be proven wrong. Even though he was dead set on his beliefs, he wanted someone to come and crush them. To prove him that there is good in this world, that he was being a damn fool this entire time. But no one ever stuck around enough to do that. They were all unable to truly reach out to him.

Noé gave him the hope that there was a person who could convince him. That there was a person who could understand him, reach out to the depths of his heart and get past his lies. He willingly sets up this façade of this cold, unfeeling jerk who has no care for others and always does as he pleases, but he’s always wanted someone to look past this. Yet, at the same time, he’s deathly afraid of this possibility.

In the first picture, his face is in awe, as if he was looking at salvation itself. However, that all crumbles down when Noé says he is staying with Vanitas and the implications this has. That’s what he is terrified of. Aaaand with this we move to the second section of this analysis! (Damn this is getting so lengthy I truly became that one freak who writes a thesis worth of analysis of a drawing).

2. Vanitas’s fears and contradictions:

I think it’s really obvious to everyone that damn this dude got some issues regarding forming relationships with other people. It’s pretty safe to say the only friend he has is Noé, and that’s such an easy thing to overlook, mainly because of how he acts around others. You could argue that he’s friends with Dante but… that’s not quite so. Dante is, in fact, fairly good at reading Vanitas (which, unpopular opinion, is not a hard thing to do given how emotional he is, but let’s get to that later) but between them there is an emotional barrier neither is willing to cross. They’re more like close acquaintances than anything.

Well, this isn’t groundbreaking, but it’s pretty obvious Vanitas is terrified of forming any meaningful bonds with others. Thing most obviously showcased in the notorious chapter 12:

This panel… is a tricky one. It’s totally up to the reader’s interpretation and it could mean a myriad of different things, especially since very little was revealed about his past as of chapter 39.

I personally see this scene as showing Vanitas’s fear of attachment, laced with a tinge of self hatred. There is nothing Vanitas fears more than getting close to people and caring about them, he himself sees this as a weakness and something he absolutely must not have. On a side note, it is also possible that Vanitas thinks so lowly of himself that he thinks anyone that would seriously love him was completely out of their minds. Or both, who knows?

But what is so interesting is that… he can’t. Vanitas knows he should be cold, calculating, use people as pieces and discard them, knows he shouldn’t be emotional or act on impulse, knows he shouldn’t express any kind of feeling whatsoever and keep the concealing smile. Yet, he just fails so miserably in every single one of those. Vanitas cares a lot, more than he’d ever want to admit, he does completely reckless and uncalled for things for no reason other than it pissed him off, so of course he gotta get the last say because he has the mind of a teenager on their rebellious phase.

Say, can you think of any, any at all, conceivable explanation of what Vanitas could possibly gain by making that speech for all vampires to hear during the ball? There is none. If you think from his perspective, the only thing that little spectacle of his brought were disadvantages for himself. So why? Because he felt belittled, humiliated, and he’s prideful as all hell, so of course he had to prove how none of that was even remotely true. He wanted to affirm himself. In the thinking process of a cunning, one hundred percent unemotional man, that was a completely unnecessary move.

It’s almost like Vanitas wants to become someone he’s not. He wants to act a certain way (to prevent even more pain?), but, ultimately, he cannot. It’s even funny how he fails spectacularly on keeping his expression “blank, without information” because even when he tries, his emotions all show on his face. It’s amusing how quick he is to try and cover said blunder with a laugh and a smile.

These contradictions are very deeply linked to his trauma, even if we don’t know the full extent of it it’s fairly obvious. What drives his wish to act so differently and thus his contradictions is, most of all, fear.

This part is pretty straightforward, in fact. In the end, Vanitas is afraid of forming bonds with others in fear of losing them, he knows firsthand how much it hurts (of course, he also doesn’t want anyone to discover his past). But that’s not all, remember how I mentioned that Vanitas’s expression only darkened in the clock tower (chapter 11) scene when Noé said he had decided to stay with him…? Well… I think Vanitas might think he brings misfortune to whoever gets involved with him. Like he is some symbol of disaster and doom that does nothing but kill those around him. If people care for him, they will suffer, but if they hate him, they will be completely fine.

Despite his insistence of being detached to all people and being a cold asshole because that’s what he must do, to avoid getting hurt, to avoid having weak points, he also craves so very badly for intimacy. He wants to be close to someone, to make an impression on someone. After all, during his whole life I doubt he truly had any meaningful relationships with others. But love only results in pain in the end, so what other strong emotion is left? Of course, it’s hatred.

Aaand this brings us to the last section of this analysis! May be a tad biased and controversial, but as I said, this is merely my opinion and I’m just as much of a random person on the internet as you! My opinion is no better than yours.

3. Vanitas’s relationships: Mainly Noé and Jeanne

As I said above, Vanitas wishes fervently to have some kind of relationship with someone, no matter which type. Since love is a no-go, he opted towards having someone feel intense hatred towards him. Because a strong emotion is a strong emotion, isn’t it? After all, hatred must be better than indifference.

Getting this out of the way, I do not think Vanitas truly loves Jeanne as of chapter 39. It’s glaringly obvious he does not, his way of showing true affection is not the way he does with Jeanne. The way he acts around her is much closer to the façade he tries to be. As I see it, this ties into Vanitas’s wish to explore intimacy and affection, even if a broken, twisted kind of. Another proof of this is that he doesn’t push her away like he does with people he knows he’s starting to grow fond of, but instead keeps her closer.

That is exactly due to the belief that she will always, always hate him, and so, there is absolutely nothing to fear. He can explore all these things and experience being the brunt of a person’s intense feelings without any consequences.

This is a very harsh thing to say, but I think Vanitas is using Jeanne as a “convenient female” he accused Dominique of being to Noé.

It’s also worth noting that in the one chapter he truly got somehow intimate with Jeanne he tried to avoid it in many ways, even trying the usual “flirting” to purposefully gross her out. By the way, can I just point out that this scene truly shows just how estranged from affection he is? He has none of the suave façade, he’s a blundering mess.

About the topic of whether Jeanne likes Vanitas or not, my answer is, too, a clear no as of chapter 39. Vanitas and Jeanne together are a combination that spawns all the disaster on earth, considering how manipulative and emotionally stunted Vanitas is, and how gullible and affection starved Jeanne is. It’s a recipe for disaster. Jeanne is not used to affection, she was mistreated during most of her life, treated as something below humans and vampires due to a thing that was completely out of her control, and then, melting at any sort of affection, no matter how twisted the person may be.

To be fair, I think overall Vanijeanne will develop immensely, and their relationship will grow into something else, more healthy? Who knows! I just think it’s undeniable that in the future Jeanne will have a big, big impact on Vanitas and vice versa. (Disclaimer: I will not tolerate any ship hate whatsoever and everyone is allowed to ship whatever they want regardless of the nature of said ship).

Shifting the focus away to Noé and Vanitas for now, there are some little things I would like to talk about and juxtapose with Vanijeanne, since parallels are my thing.

Parallels between Vanoé and Vanijeanne may not even exist and are just my mind overthinking (hell if this whole post isn’t just a big overthinking) but I would like to talk about what my sleep deprived mind came up with. First off, I think it’s safe to say that Vanoé’s relationship is depicted as complete opposites, opposite worldviews, personalities, fuck even color palettes! And the story as it is shows that they bring the absolute best out of each other and learn by staying by the other’s side. The whole narrative pushes the two halves of a whole idiot a lot.

Noé is naive, pure, idealistic but still possesses certain “selfishness” (like how he felt he was selfish when Louis died but he lived), while Vanitas is cunning, wicked, cynical and would throw his own life away for one corn chip. It’s like they were two people fated to meet.

Vanitas and Jeanne, on the other hand… are kind of similar, but only in certain ways, mostly due to trauma. Jeanne, too, only lives for a sole objective, the same way Vanitas clings to life using his self assigned duty to cure curse bearers. Jeanne and Vanitas both, are people who have essentially gave up on life, on the world, and on themselves. People who purposefully push themselves away from happiness, in fear of the consequences.

I think, at least right now, this is the main reason why they cannot see eye to eye (aside from Vanitas being an asshole). To understand Vanitas and reach out to him, one must see him with “love”. Without love, Vanitas’s struggles, trauma and suffering cannot be seen. If you look at him with eyes full of hatred, he’ll be exactly who he wants to be seen as; a cold, heartless bastard who toys with people and cares for no one other than himself. Jeanne doesn’t have the ability to see the world as purely as Noé does. She cannot find love even in seemingly irredeemable people such as Vanitas. Yet, at least.

That’s the main reason why I think Vanitas isn’t afraid of being near Jeanne, and that’s the main reason why Noé is probably such an… illogical existence to Vanitas. Vanitas, too, cannot see love in the world, and yet, Noé does. Noé catches every single small detail about him:

Whew! That was… one big fucking post! If you’ve reached this point, thank you! I write meta for fun only and to share my interpretations for you guys! Also, the last bit probably sounded very ship hate-y but I swear this was absolutely not my intention.

Actually, the true meaning of this whole post was that I wanted to make an Umineko reference with Vanitas no Carte and I have succeeded. Play Umineko, you guys.

#vnc vanitas #vanitas no carte #vnc #the case study of vanitas #meta #vanoé #vaninoé #vannoé #analysis #long post #vnc jeanne #noé archiviste

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embv · 3 years

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/dsmp /rp

Hypothetically, Tommy saying “he doesn’t have much long left” could definitely allude to the revival book not being 100%. We still don’t know the details behind it, after all, like what Dream had to do to actually revive Tommy, or what might happen after the fact as a physical consequence onto Tommy.

However much I find that absolutely intriguing, there’s not a lot of evidence for it, although most my evidence for the following theory I’m about to propose is more so based on circumstantial evidence.

So, in looking at it purely based on facts, no assumptions or jumps, here’s what I think will happen.

Tommy’s plan, as of now, is to break into the prison. Make no mistake, this is what he is rooted entirely on. He’s going to break into the prison to kill Dream.

There is A LOT. And I mean A LOT of room for this plan to go very, very south. Canonically, Dream is malnourished, has been getting tortured for what has to be around a month for every day now, and has probably not exercised one bit since he entered the prison. He will be out of shape. Purely Dream SMP-wise, Tommy has a big chance at killing him.

Obviously, this does not operate the same as for just looking at the Dream SMP as block characters. Unless Dream is able to portray someone weakened and physically weak, he will be the same strength he was before, and obviously better at PVP. Tommy will have weapons and armor, though, so the chance for Dream to fight back against Tommy and live is very, very slim.

Therefore,

There are many possibilities for Tommy’s break-in to the prison, then. If we omit the good possibilities, this is a simplistic, off-my-head list of what could happen.

Tommy can die, again. This one is very slim, however, and I want to say the chance of this happening is near impossible, but it’s still a viable option, so, what can I say?

Dream can revive Wilbur. He may raise Wilbur from the dead, then, and be able to either escape or throw Tommy off enough to postpone it.

Dream can call in that favor from Technoblade. It depends on what Techno does, but the bad option here is that Dream will escape, or will kill Tommy.

Dream could get killed by Tommy. This one is also very slim, not because he doesn’t have a lot of chance to, but because there is no way I could see Dream getting killed off like this, this early.

As for what I see as the most likely, Dream will escape the prison as an effect to Tommy’s break-in. There’s more canon basis to support this, given the sirens at the end of Big Q’s latest big lore stream, signifying that Dream has escaped the prison. There’s little chance Tommy will die, there’s little chance Dream will die, and I can’t see Dream just staying in the prison with all of the build-up. I don’t know exactly how Dream will have escaped prison, then, perhaps with Wilbur coming in by being revived or Technoblade’s favor. Either way, this is the what I see happening the most.

Then, what does Tommy mean when he says that he doesn’t have long left? He’s alluded to this, as in his death, in the context of the Final Disc War, before, and it never really happened, and the chances then are practically equal to now, if not more in Tommy’s favor, but meta-wise if we consider that there’s no way they would just kill Tommy off after everything (especially with the knowledge of revival still with Dream, after all, Dream is far too obsessed with Tommy to let him go).

Tommy knows he won’t die by Dream’s hands. If he does, he’ll be brought back. Retraumatized, but alive. I don’t think this is what he means when he says he won’t have long left.

However, if we consider a possibility where Dream escapes, what will happen to Tommy?

Well, first off, Dream will wreak havoc amongst the server. He’ll start uproars and go after people in acts of revenge and generally just cause destruction, once again.

If we ignore Dream in that narrative, however, and just take it that he escapes the prison, what will happen to Tommy?

Tommy has signed a waiver, in the prison, at least twice now saying that if the prisoner escapes during or after his visit as a direct effect of what happens, anyone is given the permission to hunt him down and kill him for good. This would most certainly include Sam.

I don’t think he’s willing to implicate anyone else not because Dream is dangerous, but because he’s scared of what will happen to them as a direct consequence of what his plan is, and scared of what Sam will do to him.

Perhaps not specifically Sam, as the waiver gives permission for anyone, but I can’t see anyone completely willing to kill Tommy right now, aside from Jack, who would be dead-set on it because of his actions regarding the prison. Either way, Tommy had zoned out as a trauma response to Jack’s shouting at him, so it’s uncertain as to whether or not he fully grasped the gravity of what Jack had been saying. Nonetheless, I think the person in the forefront of his mind would be Sam.

Here’s the thing, then: Tommy knows how much Sam cares about the prison. He knows that Sam prioritizes it over everything, and he knows how serious he is about it all. He even comments during his revival stream here that Sam would absolutely leave him in the prison alone if he thought Dream had escaped and that Tommy was lying to save his skin. Kill him, maybe even.

His plan now is a contradiction to that mindset earlier, that Tommy could not Dream. The thing that was holding him back in the past, however, was that he was terrified of being left alone. He didn’t want to be left alone, with no contact, trapped in the confines of the prison, especially with all of his trauma surrounding it and with his claustrophobia.

He could not have killed Dream while he was in the prison, because he was unsure of what Sam would do and was unsure if he would have been left alone. It was a quick, panicked decision in the moment regardless, right after quite a bit of trauma.

However, Tommy now, he has had time to stew on it, no longer panicking from every hit or cut, to think about what he thinks he needs to do and the possible consequences from what he is going to do, because we all know Tommy does not perform well under pressure, and often makes a lot better decisions afterward, but has still reached the same conclusion, clearly.

Dream needs to die. It doesn’t matter if it’s by Tommy, because it’s not a plot for revenge, but he needs to die. That revive book cannot be used by anyone, and especially not Dream.

But, if Dream manages to escape the prison as a consequence of Tommy breaking in (with withers, might I add, which would definitely be worse than trying to saunter in), then what happens to Tommy?

Again, several possibilities. To name two,

Tommy could be prepared to die here. He’s most likely still careful about Sam, and if we take Sam’s priority of the prison above Dream into question, then he could definitely trap Tommy into the prison, or, like Tommy’s waiver sign says, “give permission for any individual to hunt [him] down and kill [him] until [he is] completely dead.”

He could forever stay on the run in this scenario, which would make his farewell to Tubbo and his fears of “not lasting any longer” understandable.

He knows Sam will gun it for him, and, again, that he will be a definitive target. He’d definitely be afraid of dying here, and, in his mind, the threat of getting caught is ever prevalent, and he could die.

His preparation for death, then, explains why he’s doing about the same thing he did in his VOD of his last night on the SMP. He’s tying up loose ends and trying to get over his trauma so he won’t leave this world with untied knots and so he won’t wander around in limbo with unfinished business or feelings and words never spoken. He’s preparing for a fight in which his death is a certain possibility again, and he’s preparing for it in the same way he did back then.

I’m not sure what Sam would do even if Dream were to die by Tommy’s hands. Sam certainly wants Dream dead, but his warden instincts and priorities may take over his, you know, desires. It’s not entirely stated what he would do in the case that Dream were to die, but I can imagine that the warden side of him would not be very happy with Tommy.

This is all still speculation, of course. The Dream SMP is known for twists and loops, I wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled one last second, but this is generally not a theory on what will happen, although I do delve into that, but more my insight and thoughts about why Tommy claims he doesn’t think he’ll last long.

In the end, though, as a TL;DR, I think Tommy is afraid of the consequences to killing Dream rather than Dream himself, because while he’s the biggest factor for Tommy’s trauma, Dream’s chances at killing Tommy and Tommy staying dead are incredibly low, and no reason for Tommy to claim that he doesn’t have long left.

#tw death mention #tw torture mention #my post #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #awesamdude #tubbo #dream smp #long post

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rosykims · 4 years

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“I’ll keep you warm.” for any pairing?

“i’ll keep you warm”

“Cold, creeping, crippling. Can’t cast. Chill in the blood, dull ache in my bones. Dying. Creators, I am dying.”

Lost in the camp’s grim silence and his own melancholy, Solas almost jumps when the spirit makes its’ presence known once more. He is not the only one; in the corner of his periphery he sees Sera tense, and Seeker Pentaghast’s callused fingers twitch instinctively for her blade. Cullen, just faintly visible outside of the campfire’s immediate glow, stands up from his seat in an instant, blinking back sleep and locking eyes with the strange young man as only a Templar could. Vivienne, never far from the Commander’s side these days, eyes the spirit with a similar, albeit far more intimating glare.

Cole stands awkwardly by the fire, centered in the middle of their somber camp circle as if he has been there the whole time. And perhaps he has. If Solas wasn’t so preoccupied with his own chaotic thoughts, the enigma of the boy’s circumstances would be cause for excitement - for utter amazement, even.

And yet, he feels no such emotions. Half a day into Haven’s destruction, and its’ loss seems to have snuffed the light out from every living soul that remains.

“Will someone be a dear and remove the parasite from our camp?” Vivienne asks tensely. “Or shall I be forced to deal with matters myself?”

Solas bites his tongue for once. She is tired, he thinks. And posturing. And terrified. That, at the very least, is something we all share in common.

Varric, uncharacteristically gloomy beside her, shakes his head. “Go easy on the kid,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on his feet. “He hasn’t given us any reason to distrust him.”

“After all that’s come to pass, I’d wager we have cause to distrust everything.” Cullen sighs, though the suspicion in his stature has dulled slightly, revealing more exhaustion than any real malice.

Cole, still staring transfixed at the fire, seems oblivious to the discourse he’s incited. Devoid of expression, he raises a pale, freckled arm out towards the embers, as if reaching for the source of the warmth itself.

“Fire to fix the freezing,” he continues, despite his audience only half listening. “But the flame flickers out. Fails. Like I failed when I couldn’t save them all.”

Is he channeling Ashara? Solas wonders. He lifts his head, observing the young man as inconspicuously as he can manage in the poor lighting. He casts a quick secondary glance at the Herald’s makeshift tent, sealed tight to ward off the howling Frostback winds.

“Is she awake?” He asks finally. He pointedly ignores the few stares he receives as he breaks his long-held silence. In a mood like this, Cole is the only person he can bring himself to talk to right now.

Well. Cole, and her. But that is another problem, for another day.

“No. She’s still in the snow. Shivering. Scared.”

“Ah. A nightmare, then.”

“Yes. She doesn’t know. It’s real for her.”

Cullen shifts uncomfortably in response, his eyes flickering from Cole to the Elven woman’s tent. “I … I’ll check on her.”

The crack in his voice betrays him, and all but confirms a suspicion Solas has held for some time - although in this instance, being right fills him more with irritation than any real sense of satisfaction. He stands up just as the light-haired man begins to move from his post, clearing his throat to gain his attention. “That is quite unnecessary, Commander,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can without appearing impolite. “Allow me. The Herald needs rest, and to wake her in this state should be avoided, if possible. I will see to fixing the dream itself, specifically … in my fashion.”

Cullen bites his lip as he understands the implication of his words. After a nervous pause, he lets out another sigh and sits back down, nodding weakly. “See to it that she’s comfortable,” he says softly. “She’s the reason any of us are still here at all.”

Solas nods and turns on his heel towards the tent, before the nagging whisper of jealousy can creep any further into his thoughts. Jealousy, he thinks with ever increasing indignation. What an absurd, horrifying notion.

He steps through the threshold of her tent as quietly as the crunching snow under his feet will allow, and finds Ashara slumbering and still, just as Cole had said. As he closes the distance between them, the sight of her sleeping figure makes his stomach drop, and he falters. She is too still, and too pale – the only colour present in her complexion is the dark bruises around her eyes and jaw, and the disconcerting blue tint of her lips. Under the generous layer of fur blankets, Solas can’t see the rise and fall of her chest; it’s only her eyes, moving frantically behind her eyelids, that convey any proof of life at all.

He stifles a sigh as he sits down by the chair beside her cot, taking her hand in his own. Her hands are freezing, even with the aid of the fur blankets. Somehow feeling the chill for himself is the worst – her magic, her fire, has always been such a natural and physical part of her; to find it depleted so thoroughly after her contact with the Elder One leaves him with a feeling of dread significant enough to alarm him. Carefully, he concentrates his energy towards his fingers, warming her hand with his. With his other, he reaches to touch the side of her temple gently, tracing healing runes as light as he can without waking her.

The nightmare is strong. Nightmares based on memories always are. He falters and brushes his fingers away as Ashara shifts in her sleep, her brow creasing in a look of unfamiliar and unconcealed fear.

“Cold,” she mumbles, as quiet as the dead. If he hadn’t been watching her expression as she’d spoken, he wouldn’t have caught her sleep-talking at all.

“I know.” He whispers back, his voice barely more audible than hers. “You are going to be alright, my friend. Haven is behind you, and the danger has passed. You’re safe now.”

Slender fingers tighten around his own. “My magic … gone … it’s not working.”

“It will return.”

“It’s … so dark …”

It feels wrong to hear her like this, as if he were privy to a private, personal thing. In sleep, she lacks her usual command of presence; the intense, unyielding strength she has carried so diligently since the day he met her. He squares his jaw and reaches back up to her temple, casting more intensely this time, lending her his energy until she can find her own once more.

“Cold … it’s too cold …”

“I’ll keep you warm, lethallan.”

Whatever else she wants to say is trailed off in a whimper as finally, finally, his magic seems to be working. The chaos fluttering behind her eyelids slows, just as she begins to lessen her grip around his fingers. A part of him – instinctive and irrational – wants to squeeze her hand, trail his thumb across the bridge of her knuckles as if that might somehow help either one of them, but he holds back.

Even if she were awake, he would hold back. Lately it seems to him that even the lightest touch, the briefest eye contact, is a risk he can’t afford to take. Makes him feel as if he’s on the edge of something dangerous – as dangerous as Haven, only subtler, and prettier, and slow killing.

So he stills the itch of his fingers, and focuses the restless energy on projecting warmth; removing fear. He performs a role for the Herald; safe, necessary, and non-conflicting.

Minutes pass in a peaceful silence, with only soft rustle of the tent’s fabric to remind him of the outside tundra. Only when the nightmare is thoroughly removed does Solas feel the familiar, unique presence at his side, and he cranes his neck to his side to catch Cole’s figure, deceptively blended in with the shadows. Solas says nothing for a moment, and turns his gaze back to the hand in his own.

“I believe you may have been far more suited to this task than I, my friend,” he whispers with his back to the spirit. “I’m intrigued as to your reasoning.”

He senses rather than sees an ironically adolescent shrug from the boy, which makes him smile in spite of himself.

“You wanted to help, like me,” Cole says simply. “But you wanted it to be you.”

Solas’ smile fades, his bemusement replaced with a sudden, weighted fatigue.

“Thank you, Cole,” he says after a long moment of hesitation. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

“It isn’t thoughtfulness. It’s me. I help the hurt.”

“So you do.”

A slight change in the energy around his immediate person indicates that Cole is gone, departed and migrating onward to help some other soul in his strange and remarkable manner. A quick glance behind his shoulder confirms it. Solas can’t help but sigh this time and, a moment later, he gently withdraws his hand from Ashara’s. She is warm enough now, and comfortable enough to appease the Commander.

He wills that truth to be enough to appease himself. If he were wiser, he would already be moving towards the entrance of the tent, putting this from his mind entirely and leaving her to her rest.

But he doesn’t move. Instead, he resigns to shift in his seat and close his eyes. I will stay, he thinks in exasperated defeated. As a courtesy, in case the nightmare comes back. In case she gets cold. It’s merely a courtesy.

Whether the courtesy is for her or for himself, he isn’t entirely sure. And whether it’s concern or relief he feels as he drifts off in the chair besides her, he truly cannot say.

#solas #solavellan #lavellan x solas #inquisitor x solas #oc: ashara #sorry for the late reply and thanks so much for the prompt !!!!#i love this prompt so much it was so CUTE to write for #also one of my first genuine attempts to write for other dai characters which was Neat #i hope u like !#mine: writing #mine: all #roseategales

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otheroutlandertales · 5 years

Text

The next part of the series based on the Audrey Niffenegger book The Time Traveler’s Wife. Part 1

Author’s note: Claire is 48 in this part, and in Paris with Jamie while they look for Young Ian.

The Time Traveler’s Family: Part 2

by @abbydebeaupreposts

Claire came to, her mind sifting through the fog. She could feel boots that were pinching her toes, the heavy covering of a thick skirt on her legs. She experimentally rubbed one knee against the other, noting the absence of the telltale slide of nylon-on-nylon. Taking a deep breath, she felt the push of her stays against her ribs and that at least confirmed she was somewhere in an earlier time.

The melodious peel of church bells vibrated through her chest and with a sudden snap, Claire realized where she was: L’Hôpital des Anges. She mentally chided herself. She hadn’t gone anywhere, she’d only fainted!

It shouldn’t have been hot enough to cause dehydration, but she had walked a good portion of Paris this morning and hadn’t thought to bring any water. On top of that, she’d been far too nervous to eat breakfast this morning.

She hadn’t lied to Jamie . . . exactly . . . she just hadn’t told him that she was also planning on coming here. Provisioning the ship for their journey required them to head out separately in search of supplies and arranging for their safe delivery to the wharf. They were both aware that each day they delayed lessened their chances of catching up to the scoundrels who’d kidnapped Young Ian.

One look at his stressed face when they’d arisen had decided the issue. Claire could not, simply could not utter the name of their daughter knowing how frantic Jamie was to find his nephew. Faith had been gone twenty and more years, but they had the hope of saving Ian. Jamie needed the freedom to direct his energies on that, not dwell on things long since lost.

Claire’s glass face might have given her away, or perhaps that excellent nose of his might have sniffed out the flowers - she still couldn't believe her luck in finding any this late in the year - that she’d buried under the linen lining of her market basket, but he’d been too preoccupied with organizing his own day to pay too much attention to hers.

Thinking of the flowers, Claire sat up and cast her eyes around for her basket, not finding it, she slowly rose and walked a few paces in a circle. Something in her field of vision was off, her eyes sensing the change before she had time to really process it. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Faith’s stone no longer lay at her feet. A strong gust of wind whipped a loose strand of hair across her face and she realized how warm it was, whenever she was, it definitely wasn’t November.

A sharp jolt of panic sent her stomach plummeting. She willed her breathing to steady, counting the in-and-out rhythm. As she did so, she calmed herself by concentrating on the noises around her. The modern world sounded completely different than the time before.

Claire was reassured by the cadence of carriage wheels on the stone street just the other side of the high enclosure surrounding the cemetery, the clomp of horse hooves, dog barks and goat bleats. At last she was able to think logically. Claire forced herself to acknowledge the truth. Faith's grave was missing because their daughter either hadn't come to be or, more likely, hadn't . . . wasn't . . . yet gone. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!

When Jamie suggested coming to Paris in all due haste and seeking help from Jared, Claire had readily agreed, feeling the same sense of urgency to get here as soon as possible. If anyone had the information they needed and the connections to secure a ship to give chase, it would be Jamie's cousin. Claire hadn't even stopped to consider the implications of being back on French soil.

Oh God! Claire was sure she didn't have the strength to relive those long ago days and nights full of intrigue, heartbreak and betrayal. It had taken months, if not years, for she and Jamie to both put the past behind them. And they had. They rarely spoke of her, then. And even now, only in the briefest of mentions.

“Red hair like her sister? Like Faith?” Jamie had asked upon seeing Bree’s baby pictures.

Overcome at hearing that name spoken out loud by this man, Claire could only nod, watching as he turned each photo over in his hands, skimming a shaky finger over each line and curve of their daughter’s changing face. When the first one in color leapt from the bundle, he made a low moan in the back of his throat. The one that he used when his feelings - of love, of laughter, of happiness - had robbed him of the power of speech.

Claire had waited more than 7,000 days to hear that sound again and her whole body numbed with the impact. She hadn’t noticed in the busy buzzing of school and work and keeping house, but the truth was it had been years since she felt such a connection to another person. She and Frank never found it again after she returned, that unity of person, but she had it for a brief fleeting time when Brianna was very young, nursing at her breast as they rocked together in the hushed serenity of a 3 AM feeding. That sacred fusion of babe and parent that bonds mother to child in those early days. It was not the same, of course, what she felt for him and what she felt for their daughter, but the way such a deep connection dissolved the individual boundary of self, it was something like it.

Intimacy. A simple word of staggering complexity. Yet the knowledge of him, of herself, of them filled her senses. The solid edge of his rigid thigh pressed against hers, the sharp unfamiliar scent of him, the savory flavor of his tongue lingering on her lips, the dance of firelight from the hearth against the faded red of his hair and the rush of her heart as it glued itself back together again.

Claire held still, spellbound, as an expression of reverence played across his features. She gently touched his hand and his palm went slack transferring the precious images of Bree into hers and fixing her with a burning look of urgency. He was incapable of doing much else. He kept his head cast downward as Claire told her story after story, drinking in the variety of Brianna’s expressions as she boldly stared out at the world with her father’s eyes . . . the same shape exactly as those of her sister.

Even now, weeks after, Claire had yet to speak of it, to tell Jamie how it felt sitting beside him that day . . . the rightness of feeling them and their daughters together even if only for one moment. “Oh that is quite enough of that, Beauchamp!” she reminded herself. Whether she was in the Paris of 1766 or 1744 made no difference. She knew very well there was nothing she could do to change what happened and torturing herself in the meantime only made it a thousand times worse. Faith would always be a wishful dream, something too precious to become real.

Claire swallowed hard, took a couple of deep breaths and reminded herself that the most important thing she needed to do now was get back to Jamie in his own time. With that goal uppermost in her mind, she was able to leave the cemetery and make her way as unobtrusively as possible through the twisting, turning corridors of L’Hôpital which she navigated by muscle memory.

She had learned over many years of such unexpected travel that one of the most important ways to fit in, even if you landed in the wrong century, was walking confidently and boldly. The destination wasn’t important - as long as you looked like you belonged, you did.

Claire reached the great hall, sighing when she didn’t see any sign of Mother Hildegard or Sister Agnes. The front entrance beckoned, the sun was shining on the threshold. But just as she neared, Bouton’s happy yip of greeting stopped her cold and she hesitated, despite knowing better. The soft pitter patter of little nails clicking against the stone approached in double time. Her heart gave a little squeeze and she knew it was her Bouton. That fuzzy, furry face she would know anywhere. She thought about trying to ignore him, but knew from experience that being denied would only result in more insistent barking.

She dropped to her haunches at once and waited for him to roll, then enthusiastically rubbed his belly. The dog abruptly jumped back to all fours a moment before her own ears picked up the sound of boot heels coming down the far stairs. Her friend cocked his ear and tilted his head side to side, watching to see what she would do.

“Sorry, Bouton, I can’t stay. Take good care, I will see you soon.” Claire rose and brushed off her hands, she was across the threshold when something brushed past her. Bouton got in front of her and dropped something at her feet, giving a bark of pride. She bent to retrieve it. A fairly decent hat with which to cover her hair. She smiled at him, feeling warm all over.

“Thank you, mes amis, I couldn’t have asked for a better old chum to run into today,” she told him as she carefully inspected the cloth, and, finding nothing chancy or moving on it, fixed it securely to her head and caught her reflection as she passed by a window. She sighed in relief, seeing how well that one small touch helped her blend in better.

Claire kept walking past the hospital, trying to figure out whether she could use any of the currency quietly clinking in the deep pocket of her skirt. Better not risk it, she decided, taking herself to task for not paying any attention to the coin when Jamie handed it to her. She had no idea if the year was customarily stamped on the money or not and couldn’t very stop and inspect it in public. Besides, she’d already spent a good deal of it purchasing supplies and sending them to the ship before setting out to L’Hôpital. Claire was always conscious of the fact that a solitary woman travelling unescorted in such times would naturally attract attention. She couldn’t pretend to be shopping, not without coin to spend, there were no lending libraries that admitted women patrons . . . Look busy! she reminded herself. Right, but how?

Claire didn’t want to head in the direction of Jared’s home. It was miles away, but she’d inevitably cross to the little district where the apothecary was situated and she might give in to the temptation to visit Master Raymond. He was the one person in Paris, aside from Bouton, who might not be shocked to see her - and her graying hair and the crows feet wrinkling her eyes. Yet, she was hesitant, remembering his sleight of hand in the star chamber. Was he really her friend? She wasn’t sure and that lack of trust weighed heavily in her mind. Instead, she turned south and focused on letting her thoughts roam freely, almost forcing herself to think about not thinking about the Paris of her youth.

Awareness settled over her as her feet struck manicured grass and her head came up. She was in the park near Jared’s warehouse. She had only strolled along its delightful paths a few times, once with Louise and Mary and a couple of times with Murtagh. Yes, over to the right were the huge blooming shrubs he had delighted in showing her. Claire made her way over toward the riot of pinks and yellows she saw in the distance, nodding and bobbing the occasional murmured greeting as she went. If her out of style clothing was noticed, no one stared, nor said a word.

She came to a small bench Murtagh showed her all those years ago tucked under the swaying branches of a willow tree and sat down in relief. Her boots were comfortable but she’d walked a great distance. She was thirsty but put that out of her mind, having no way to remedy the need. She closed her eyes and breathed the crisp, clean garden air. The sound of nature surrounded her and peace descended.

Claire must have drifted off for the next she knew the quiet had been broken by the zing of rapiers clashing and the echoing grunts of effort. Two men engaged in some mock battle. In Brianna’s time they’d called it the sport of fencing, but here, in this time, it was practical training. She couldn’t parse out the words themselves but instantly caught the rhythm of the speech. Gaelic, she was sure of it. Claire shot to her feet in blind panic looking around wildly and realized suddenly that the way the branches fell sheltered her completely from the direction of the swordplay.

She couldn't help moving to the edge of the shelter of protection and peeking between the curtain of swaying branches and leaves. An enormous sigh of longing escaped her lips as she caught sight the back of Jamie’s broad back, red hair glinting in the sunlight as he thrust downward. His broadsword clashing with an almighty clang as it struck the one Murtagh held firm using both his hands. Murtagh pulled both arms upwards, causing Jamie to jump back. A good thing too, or his head would now be laying on the grass beside his feet.

“Fight it that's it, focus . . . Concentrate, lad, no . . . hold on!” Murtagh encouraged. Their arms were rigid, weapons braced against one another in what looked clear to be a stalemate but Jamie’s arms were shaking badly. Her eyes stayed on his left hand, wrapped in the special compression brace she had fashioned together and which Jamie had faithfully worn everyday since they had left the Abbey.

“Christ, man, I canna do it,” Jamie responded as sweat broke out along his forehead. Claire watched as his knees buckled and he fought to remain engaged in the fight.

“Ye ken how to get out of this, lad, so do it,” Murtagh reminded him. Jamie gave a mighty heave and twisted his body forcing the steel to disengage and readjusting his stance. The motions of thrust and parry went on for a few minutes more, but Jamie's body remained with its back turned to her.

Suddenly the two men laughed, patted one another on the back and Jamie threw down his weapon, reaching for a bottle of ale resting in the grass at his feet. She watched, quite startled, as Murtagh shouted then appeared to take a run at the crowd of onlookers that had stopped to gawk at their games. Claire ducked back into the shadows, fearing detection. She didn’t dare move and kept her eyes glued on Murtagh, willing him to stay away from her hiding spot. She held her breath as she watched him retreat back to the hillside to rejoin Jamie. As Murtagh knelt down, Claire caught her first direct view of Jamie’s face and gasped, the sound echoing loudly in the cocoon of her shelter.

He looked good - Jesus-H.-Make-Mine-A-Double-Christ! - better than good. He thrummed with the vitality and self-confidence of a man in his prime. His eyes had lost that haunted aspect that had marked their time in the Abbey and sparkled with amusement at something Murtagh said. His body was sound. She noted that his arm was still tucked up tight to his chest, the fingers splayed and unbending, but that was the only outward sign of his ordeal. Then he smiled and she forgot how to breathe.

Over the years, Claire had forgotten that for all that Paris had been rife with sorrow it had also been the place of Jamie’s rebirth, his healing and in many ways the place of his making. Observing him now, she could see what she’d not noticed, then.

Gone was that impulsive, young man she’d wed. The one who cheerfully told her he hadn’t much to offer a wife, but promised to keep her fed. As if the only barometer for universal happiness - marital or otherwise - was a full stomach. Given his age and lack of experience with courtship, he’d likely thought that to be true.

In his place now stood a man who had walked through the very heart of darkness and survived. It had been touch and go and it had taken months and, Claire realized now, it had taken this city - and a chance to test himself by swimming in unfamiliar - if not shark infested - waters that had become his proving ground. Jamie relearned the way of himself and that had allowed them to forge a deeper connection, one that had stayed in tact all these years.

The phrase “egghead and lard bucket” carried on the breeze followed by a “curiously large head” and then she heard the sound of his laugh and she caught a look at his face as his head turned with a smile as bright as the sun.

Tears sprung from her eyes and she pressed her fingers tight against her lips to keep from crying out. Christ, I hope he knew how much I loved him, that in my restlessness and grief I hope I told him that much, at least. Quite unable to look at Jamie without continuing to fall apart, Claire turned her gaze instead to his companion. He was, per usual, scowling as he kept up a grumbling commentary regarding the olfactory delights of France.

Claire wanted to give him a hug and never let him go. Thank you, thank you, thank you! For being his godfather, for always taking care of him. God, may he be safe, wherever he may be. She prayed. She hoped they would find him one day, that she’d be able to tell him herself how dear he was to them.

As if Jamie had heard her thoughts, he said, “Did I ever thank ye, Murtagh?” Jamie was looking out over the long expanse of high society on parade in the park and not at Murtagh.

“What for?” Murtagh squirmed uncomfortably. Jamie made a scoffing sound. What, indeed.

“For my life? for Claire’s? For our child’s?” Jamie said softly, looking at Murtagh now with an expression of unabashed gratitude. “Willie - afore we left the Abbey - said Dougal didn't want them to go to Wentworth but ye convinced the rest to join ye.”

Murtagh scoffed. “Twasna me, yer lady, she did all that,” he said pausing a moment. “Do ye ken we spent weeks searching for ye?”

“What?” Jamie’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Och, aye, up and doon the coast. I danced,” Murtagh gave him a shaggy browed wiggle when Jamie laughed, “Aye, that’s about what it was like, But Claire, ye should ha’ seen her, man. We tried everything we could ta talk to as many as we could hoping word would spread and ye’d pick up our trail as yer had gone cold about four days after Ian came limping back to Lallybroch. She told fortunes and did the doctoring and when that didna work she wrote songs and joined me on the stage.”

“My Sassenach?” Jamie’s eyes had gone huge. Claire bit the inside of her lip it was difficult for her to imagine it, too, and she’d been there!

“Och, aye, a bonnie-wee-lark is yer woman and stubborn as the day is long, forebye. When we discovered a band of Roma had stolen her song and was driving our crowds away by using it, there was a stramash the likes of which I’ve never seen. When Dougal was inclined no’ to be generous, she did the same to him and it was she that got the lads to agree wi’ that mad scheme.” What Murtagh hadn’t said was that the mad scheme in question, using the coos as a diversion had been his clever idea, but somehow Jamie knew that.

Jamie placed his hand on Murtagh’s shoulder, “As I said, I owe ye much, goistidh.”

“Jamie, ye are as a son to me. I dinna say it often but ye ken my heart.” Murtagh said so quietly Claire had to hold her breath to catch the words. “How are ye doing? Tell me the truth.” Murtagh’s steady gaze stayed on Jamie’s face. For the first time, Jamie looked uncomfortable in his own skin.

“During the day, I’m fine, dinna think of . . . it, hardly at all,” Jamie told him. “Most nights I’m alright as well. I’m no’ overly fond of cavortin’ with the prince, that poppinjay's bannocks arena quite baked all the way through, if ye ask me and spending time wi’ him is tedious, but sometimes it’s . . . easier to be out wi’ him than home.” Jamie sat heavily on his bum and leaned a shoulder into Murtagh’s.

Claire thought about leaving. This was getting far too personal and her throat felt like she’d swallowed broken shards of misery. “She still looks at me as she did before, makes me feel like I hung the moon for her alone and I . . . canna say what it does to my soul to see her shape change day by day wi’ the bairn. God, she deserves so much more than I can give her. It’s still mixed up for me, Claire and Randall and it’s no’ her fault, but mine. I canna get my mind clear. Yet whenever she is near I ache to . . .” The rest of what he said was lost on the wind, his face had turned away from Claire and Murtagh. She saw Murtagh bend his head and could catch a murmuring response but nothing distinctive.

“Do you think she kens?” Jamie’s face was turned back in her direction and Claire felt lightheaded as she focused on the tender expression in his eyes.

I do, Jamie. Never doubt that. Claire thought as her body started to fly. She sighed in relief and didn’t fight it.

When she came to, she felt the chill in the crisp November air at once and knew she’d returned to the Cemetery of the Angels. She took a few breaths waiting for the dizziness to clear then slowly got to her feet. With enormous relief she spotted her basket leaning against a small stone. She reached inside and pulled the precious bundle of tulips from the bottom of the sack. Still fresh, telling her that not too much time had passed.

Claire reoriented herself and walked toward Faith’s stone. She caught a wink of color that defined itself as she moved closer. Her heart tightened like a vice in her chest. A posy of violets, their beautiful deep purple vivid against that cold gray stone, set precisely between the words Faith and Fraser.

But I am not the man you knew these twenty years past. His words to her upon their reunion echoed in her mind. No, she thought, you are so much more. And with a shaky hand, Claire lay her tulips on top of his, their offerings forming a cross.

Jamie looked up from the scratching of his quill with quiet satisfaction, always pleased when he could get a sentence to go clear across the page neatly, as Claire bustled through the door to their room. “Ach, there ye are, Sassenach, I was just wondering how ye faired wi’ the-” Jamie let out an Eep! of surprise as her body slammed into his, locking him in a full body kiss.

His lips asked questions she wouldn’t answer and he decided to curb his curiosity. She was in a terrible rush to get his shirt off and when she started unlacing his breeks, he responded on an elemental level to the raw desperation of her desire, helping her get her own shirt and then her stays off in short order.

He attempted to stand, to lay her out on the bed and love her properly, but she placed her hands on his shoulders and held him rooted to the chair with a strangled sound that tried for English but emerged as feral.

“What is it, love?” Jamie crooned softly, “Tell me, my own.” He grabbed her hair in a ponytail and yanked it back hard, forcing her to look him in the eye, at last. He stared at her, refusing to look away or let her do so, either.

Her lips were sunkissed and swollen. She looked like she’d been crying. He bent his mouth and flicked his tongue over the valley between her breasts, tang and salt, outside the contoured trail of his lips he could see her skin covered in grime, evidence of the kind of day she’d had.

He inhaled deeply, thinking how he could maneuver his body lower to further the explorations of his mouth when his brain registered something unexpected. He bent his head again and sniffed, casual at first then picking up more steam, like a pig rooting out a truffle. His nose never failed him. After a minute or so he looked up at her.

“Ye care to tell me why ye smell like new cut grass and it’s November?”

“I saw you this afternoon.” Claire said by way of an explanation, which he’d noticed provided no answer at all.

“And ye didna call out to me?” Jamie’s eyebrows rose trying to figure out where their paths might have intersected on their respective errands. He wondered if maybe she’d gone to see Faith, too? But if so, why did she not say anything?

He knew she’d been uneasy ever since learning of Laoghaire but it had been Ian’s abduction - while trying to bring back the treasure they needed to be free of her - that had opened this particular chasm between them. All of the challenges of living then, to say nothing of its dangers, death and disease, floated across her face as she sat beside him trying to soothe him with reassuring words, while he - useless, helpless man that he was - sat on that hill staring into the gloam long after Ian’s ship had slipped over the horizon - still shaking his head in disbelief.

Finally, she adjusted his sling and urged him to action. Before setting sail for France, he offered to take her back to Craigh Na Dun. He had to force the words from his lips and his heart hammered in terror waiting for her response. The fact that his suggestion had not been greeted with the kind of shocked protestation he had prayed to hear but more of a “Focus on Ian, we’ll talk of this later,” came back into his memory now.

He should have told her what he had planned that afternoon and asked her to come, too. But when they arose, she’d barely touched their meal, kept fiddling with her basket, pulling out all her wee notations regarding needed supplies for the ship’s surgery. He tried to broach it a couple of times but Claire wouldn’t make eye contact with him and he found he didn’t have the courage to bring it up and risk her upset. If she’d not mentioned it, then he shouldn’t call it to mind, either. They were back to keeping secrets from one another.

Jamie could bear anything in this world except being parted from her again, but the moment his fingers traced the faded letters of Faith’s name, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake and wished he’d spoken of it first thing this morning. When he returned to an empty room, her absence nearly drove him mad. Her instant need of him upon her return was a much needed balm on his anxious heart.

Claire gave him a shake of the head and a brave little smile that let him know she hadn’t meant she’d seen him today but something else.

“Oh?” He ventured cautiously. He knew what she was and he’d seen it happen a number of times but that was then and it hadn’t happened since she’d been back.

“In the Jardins des plantes,” her gaze was steady but he saw the flicker of deep emotion inside her. It had been over two decades since he’d last been in that park. His mind raced to try and figure out what she needed him to say.

He finally settled on, “Had ye been back in Paris before today?”

“No!” Claire genuinely seemed horrified at the thought. “I haven’t set foot in France since 1743, and I never intended to do so in my lifetime again. You remember how it works?” She was watching him and when he hesitatingly nodded, she continued, “I can only travel a short distance . . . er . . . geographically speaking, that is, and my actions can’t change what has already happened.”

“Did ye see yerself, then?” Jamie asked her but he didn’t seem as upset as she would’ve thought. As if reading her mind he added, “God, I’d love to see ye round and fat in yer silk and lace again, Sassenach.”

“No, I told you, I saw you . . . oh, and Murtagh.”

Jamie made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. “Ye ken, Paris wouldna ha’ been the same wi’ his sunny countenance.”

“Oh, stop, Murtagh is a great travel companion!” Claire laughed.

“Aye, and no one I’d rather have guarding my back. It was an act of grace, seeing that face, wearing gray whiskers and rags, at Ardsmuir. It felt good to be the one caring for him for once. I hope we can find him again, Sassenach and bring him home.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Tell me what happened today,” he encouraged.

“I spent the last twenty years not going to the places we shared. To find myself in Paris, then?” Claire shuddered. “To run into myself and to know? I might have tried to forewarn but then I would have condemned myself dreading new day fearing what would come instead of savoring every day to come. Knowing the future hasn’t helped us avert disaster so far.”

“So ye didna want to run into anyone ye knew and ended up in the park?” Jamie surmised.

“Yes, indeed. Imagine my surprise when I realized you were just on the other side of the willow tree that shielded me from your view. You were so young, Jamie. Full of grace and in great spirits. Murtagh brings out a very playful side of you. I’d forgotten how much fun you had with each other. Then, watching you, I realized how much we had enjoyed being here. All the wonderful things we had found here, too. We were part of history, something so much bigger than ourselves. It was thrilling and full of grand possibilities. I look back on our lives here and can’t believe that was us, at Versailles, dining with the prince, so much beauty and luxury.”

At this Jamie snorted, “Aye, too bad the two of us are more at home in a tent on the moor than in a mansion wi’ servants.”

“That’s true, but I still appreciate everything Jared did for us - and is still willing to do for us. Being here set me on the path to becoming a doctor and helped by giving you a different kind of purpose.” Jamie nodded and Claire continued, “It was here we found Fergus.” Jamie smiled in memory. “Nothing turned out like we’d hoped in Paris but it had been magical and after today, I can look back on it and remember it that way.”

“Swords, was it?” Jamie beamed when he heard her sigh lustily.

“Jamie you looked . . .” Words failed her, she had no other way to tell him but to show him, kissing him passionately with an explosion of soft mewling noises he found deeply gratifying, if only because they echoed the ones she was drawing from his lips.

Jamie let himself be diverted for a good long while. Claire hadn’t responded to his physical presence like this since they were in Edinburgh and he was mightily roused by her reaction. Yet, just as she was about to get completely carried away, he pushed her body back and looked searchingly at her.

“Claire?” he began, and she looked dazed, her cheeks pink from exertion. “Was it . . . that is, I dinna want to make assumptions about how yer feeling nor imply that ye should feel--” it was his turn for pinkened cheeks now.

“Jamie,” Claire held her hand out to him,”Just say it, whatever it is. Trust that I will listen with my heart and try and understand. When things go unsaid . . . that's when trouble starts for us, I think.”

Jamie nodded and started over, “I ken why ye couldna bear to . . . I dinna blame ye one bit. But I think maybe yer fretting about making that choice - no’ for yerself or me, but for her sake.” Seeing her stunned expression, Jamie started second guessing himself, but he'd gone this far, he needed to finish. “Will ye maybe find some . . . comfort in knowing she wasna alone today? I was wi’ her, brought her a wee posy, told her how much we both love and miss her; asked her to watch o’er her little sister for us. If she’s anything like Jenny, she’ll have been doing it all along.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire bit her bottom lip hard willing herself not to burst into tears. How did he manage to cut her wide open and then cauterize the wound in less than five sentences? “I saw your violets when I brought her tulips. That’s where was. I awoke in the cemetery, but her grave wasn’t there.”

“Christ, Claire.” Jamie’s eyes swam with unshed tears. The second Claire reached her hand to his cheek, they spilled over, across her fingers, leaking down the back of her hand.

“I’ve needed to say something to you since Edinburgh, no, it’s not supposed to make you cry harder,” Claire gave him a sobbing hiccup, “You are, and have always been, a wonderful father, Jamie. I never told you that and I should have. I couldn’t think of anything more important than returning to you to make sure you knew it. Thank you, for giving them to me and for keeping our family together.”

“Ye thought that wouldna make me cry? Jesus, Claire, what ye do to me,” he said into her ear as he crushed her to him.

Sometime later, on the edge of sleep, he whispered, “Yer wrong though, Sassenach.”

“Hmmm?” she said in drowsy reply.

“Knowing the future did help. A great deal. Kept Jenny and the bairns alive, kept me from being hanged. It’s maybe true for the big things ye canna change time, for its stubborn and fights back. But in hundreds of small ways, it mattered. Hearing ye speak of our adventures worries me some, though. Do ye think ye can be content once we have Ian in hand just living a quiet life wi’ me in a highland croft?” It was said in a flirty tone but Claire heard the anxiety underneath.

“Yes, but don’t count the chickens in your kale yard just yet, life may have more surprises in store, General Fraser.”

#otheroutlandertales #outlander fanfiction #mod abby #pair: jamie x claire #ch: jamie #ch: claire #ch: murtagh #canon au #category: mf #time traveler's family #oot

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artemis-entreri · 5 years

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[[ This post contains Part 3 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Boundless, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Generations: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #35 (#32 if not counting The Sellswords)

Publisher: Harper Collins (September 10, 2019)

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Boundless and used above is originally done by Aleks Melnik. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.

Contents:

Introduction

I. Positives I.1 Pure Positives I.2 Muddled Positives

II. Mediocre Writing Style II.1 Bad Descriptions II.2 Salvatorisms II.3 Laborious “Action”

III. Poor Characterization (you are here) III.1 “Maestro” III.2 Lieutenant III.3 Barbarian III.4 “Hero” III.5 Mother

IV. World Breaks IV.1 Blinders Against the Greater World IV.2 Befuddlement of Earth and Toril IV.3 Self-Inconsistency IV.4 Dungeon Amateur IV.5 Utter Nonsense

V. Ego Stroking V.1 The Ineffable Companions of the Hall V.2 Me, Myself, and I

VI. Problematic Themes VI.1 No Homo VI.2 Disrespect of Women VI.3 Social-normalization VI.4 Eugenics

VII. What’s Next VII.1 Drizzt Ascends to Godhood VII.2 Profane Redemption VII.3 Passing the Torch VII.4 Don’t Notice Me Senpai

Poor Characterization

Boundless sees an overall regression from Timeless in terms of quality of characterization. It almost feels as though Salvatore is saying, "I don't have room for character development because Boundless is such a non-stop action novel". Most of the page space is taken up by the many unfolding events, with opponents one after another that Zaknafein has to duel in the past and a full on war fought on at least three separate fronts in the present. However, even putting aside the fact that so many of those pages could've been truncated and space dedicated to character progression, instead, what we find in Boundless is shallow, self-inconsistent, lazy, and really, just mediocre. I'm not sure what effect Salvatore was trying to achieve through the cursory and flat overviews he gives to all of the characters in his Dramatis Personae section that precedes the body of the novel. Descriptions like the one for Briza Do'Urden, which reads, "Malice's eldest daughter. Huge and formidable" makes me wonder if Salvatore was going for humor. Yet, there isn't anything funny about the rest of the characterizations, except in an ironic sense in how bad they are, as though they were the words of someone trying to explain the characters to a not very bright child. I suppose it's an appropriate precedent, given how the "fleshed out" characterizations go in the novel.

"Maestro"

As suggested by Boundless' cover art, there's a lot of Jarlaxle in the book. Sadly, this manifests as a sort of butchering of Jarlaxle's capability and characterization in both the past and present timelines of the novel. Overall, Jarlaxle is very flat-footed, constantly doing the proverbial rocking back on his heels and falling on his butt. A character rocking back on their heels is one of Salvatore's favorite descriptors, and while, ironically, that phrase doesn't appear in Boundless, Salvatore does an excellent job of showing that Jarlaxle does it a great deal. This would be great in terms of showing instead of telling, except that, unfortunately, it happens when Jarlaxle's supposed to be doing something clever or there's some great revelation that manages to escape his masterfully strategic mind. I'd often joked that Salvatore isn't smart enough to write a character who's supposed to be as smart as Jarlaxle is, and this is very much evident in Boundless, except there's nothing funny about it. It's really just disappointing to see a character who is actually a nonconformist dragged down and forced to conform to Drizzt. Jarlaxle is also becoming more like Drizzt in the sense that he acts very differently from how he's supposed to be, all while we are being told over and over how he is truly, for real, pinky swear that certain way. In Drizzt's case, it is a judgmental, sanctimonious, pretentious, self-aggrandizing and presumptuous twat hailed to be the shining hero of goodness and virtue. And now, sadly, in Jarlaxle's case, a dopey, shortsighted, reckless, inattentive and not very bright clown wrapped in the cloak of one whose flair is matched only by his genius.

As he is presented in Boundless, Jarlaxle would've been wholly consumed by the perils of Menzoberranzan almost immediately. The Jarlaxle in the past timeline should be closer to how he was in the Legacy of the Drow trilogy, but he's been tempered to beyond how he is in The Sellswords trilogy. He's even more tame than how he appears in Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, where he features as a genteel, at worst mischievous, sort of villain. Jarlaxle has become closer to Drizzt than even Zaknafein, with Zaknafein being more brutal. The Jarlaxle of the past is nearly identical to the Jarlaxle of the present, as though he were transcribed across the hundreds of years. I don't understand the reason that Salvatore did this. The current version of Jarlaxle is unpalatable enough, with all of the "intrigue" and the being for himself stance as nothing but empty posturing. It makes no sense that Jarlaxle would be that way in the past, for supposedly, experiencing the personality-altering phenomenon that is Drizzt Do'Urden hadn't even happened then.

That said, let's look at some details. First, Boundless introduces an activity that Jarlaxle and Zaknafein enjoyed together, "cavern jumping", which is what we call free running or parkour in our world. They first partake of this activity in a super inspired and uniquely-named chapter entitled "Running Free". I was sarcastic just now, but I'm absolutely not sarcastic when I say this: parkour is dangerous. Even in our world, experienced traceurs can and do get hurt, and they don't normally run in an environment where many individuals stand to benefit if a fatal accident befalls them. Despite Jarlaxle saying that the risk is what makes the activity fun, this seems like a weak justification injected by a paranoid narrator who's aware that they're recounting a very unlikely event. For, the reality is, it's already dangerous that Jarlaxle and Zaknafein perform risky acrobatic maneuvers in one of the deadliest cities of Faerûn, they're doing it without any of their magical equipment. The very fact that Jarlaxle engages in this activity is reckless, and what makes it even more unlikely is the lack of assurances that are put in place to minimize potential "accidents". Zaknafein and Jarlaxle's cavern-jumping escapades aren't at all like when they pillaged Barrison Del'Armgo's armory. Although both are adrenaline-seeking activities, the latter was a controlled simulation that Jarlaxle had engineered and pulled strings to achieve. Jarlaxle might be a daredevil and an excitement-seeker, but he's not stupid, and he's supposed to be prudent, else everything that he's worked for would be for naught. He takes risks but we've been told that they're calculated ones, ones in which he's already figured out and examined every possible outcome. There's nothing calculated about cavern-jumping, and the only aspect that's even approaching consistent is their route. Even then, "consistent" can hardly be applied, for the two are constantly one-upping each other, pushing one another to quicker paces and more daring maneuvers. There aren't even Bregan D'aerthe scouts watching every turn, keeping an eye out for any parties of ill intention that might target the two high profile male drow. Heck, Jarlaxle isn't even aware of who's watching them, and he should both know and care, especially since Zaknafein is big enough of a target that many individuals wouldn't care about implicating Jarlaxle while attempting to "cavern-jump" Zaknafein. In fact, we even see in the same chapter one such interested party, and given that so much of the book is about people wanting to kill Zaknafein, I feel like the whole free running thing was just an excuse for Salvatore to show off his action scenes, except that there isn't anything to show off there. Simply showing off to this degree puts both of them at a disadvantage given how cutthroat and scheme-based drow society is supposed to be. Shouldn't Jarlaxle be worried about illustrating how flexible and agile he is, and doesn't Zaknafein want opponents to underestimate him?

Far from being circumspect, Jarlaxle doesn't seem to think at all. Even obvious things that would've occurred to a novice strategist escapes the one indirectly dubbed as "maestro". Following the fight between Zaknafein and Duvon Tr'arach, a holder of a century-long grudge against the weapons master who destroyed his house and humiliated him in combat, Jarlaxle is surprised to find that the drow whom he thought were ambushers were actually reinforcements brought by Zaknafein. This is not evocative of a streetwise genius maestro super spy. Of course Zaknafein would bring back-up, he knows the way of his society and knows how many want him dead. It would have been more reasonable for Jarlaxle to be surprised if Zaknafein hadn't brought anyone from his house with him. Salvatore has Jarlaxle thinking Zaknafein clever, but what should've happened is that Jarlaxle should have known about Zaknafein's backup in the first place, and have had agents monitoring them the whole time instead of embarrassing himself with his lack of foresight. Even better would have been if he feigned being surprised and impressed while we see Jarlaxle's agents melt back into the shadows without them alerting Zaknafein's assistants.

Jarlaxle being blindsided by the relationship between Zaknafein and Dab'nay, while more reasonable than the previous example, nonetheless doesn't belong to the same drow who, during the Crenshinibon era, knew immediately that his two lieutenants were conspiring together against him. It's true that Jarlaxle is younger and less experienced during the flashback scenes of Boundless, but there's already a rapport between him and the members of his band, a trust that would not have built up solely based on individuals sharing the same plight. Jarlaxle's followers are fiercely loyal to him, and not solely because of his charisma. Jarlaxle shows these second-class citizens of his society something they've never known before, that someone is interested in who they are. He wins their favor because all they've known previously is that their worth is measured by their bloodline, their aptitude in combat and their aptitude in the bedroom. Even if Jarlaxle's intellect wasn't enough to allow him to foresee Dab'nay and Zaknafein hooking up as a possibility, his personal knowledge of Dab'nay should've suggested the probability to him. There's another poor characterization in that if Zaknafein's hatred of priestesses was as absolute and blinding as we've been told that it is, the only dagger he'd have plunged into Dab'nay wouldn't have been the one that's permanently attached to him. However, the relationship between Dab'nay and Zaknafein being what it's forced to be, surely, Jarlaxle would've known Zaknafein well enough to at least suspect the possibility.

Although Jarlaxle is only literally stated to have "for once, seemed at a loss for words", his demonstrated lack of cleverness fails to back this up. Even in the scenario in which that is explicitly written, it's uncharacteristic of Jarlaxle to not know what to say. The passage reads:

So, from this we are to believe that the genius Jarlaxle can't produce an answer to that simple statement, when even I can think of a number of things to say on the fly: that Jarlaxle's not just any drow, that there are varying levels of trust that should be adjusted based on the circumstance, that there's such a thing as "trust but verify", that, fundamentally, the drow word for "trust" isn't as black and white as what Zaknafein is demanding. Jarlaxle's int score is a staggering 20, and he should easily come up with everything I've come up with just now and many many more answers that I can't even begin to think of with my far less staggering intellect. Things like these are just downright embarrassingly inept portrayals of Jarlaxle's alleged brilliance.

In the current timeline, Jarlaxle is even more dull, which I suppose is appropriate given the nerfing of who he was in the past. In addition to being just as flat-footed and shortsighted as his past incarnation in Boundless, Jarlaxle draws some really inaccurate conclusions. For instance, "Jarlaxle knew, of course, that Bruenor was more friend to Drizzt than Zaknafein had ever been, and indeed, more father to Drizzt than Zaknafein had ever been." Really? He knows, of course and indeed, this totally untrue assessment, does he? The first might be true, for Zaknafein wasn't present in Drizzt's life for nearly as much as Bruenor was, and even while he was there, the interactions between him and his son was restricted. But when did Bruenor risk his life on numerous occasions to simply ensure that Drizzt's moral compass and free will were not tainted? When did Bruenor sacrifice himself so that Drizzt might live? Bruenor was never even in a position to entreaty an assailant to take him instead of Drizzt. Perhaps if Salvatore defines father figures as aloof and distant presences in one's life who give tough love but never direct validation, then certainly Bruenor has been more of a father to Drizzt than Zaknafein was. However, the reality is that Bruenor never protected Drizzt the way that Zaknafein did and never guided Drizzt the way Zaknafein did. The only way that it would make sense for that assessment to belong to Jarlaxle is if Jarlaxle's own understanding of parent and child relationships is so incomplete that he doesn't know better, or if he's as stupid as he is shown to be in Boundless. The first possibility is most likely true from a personal angle for Jarlaxle, but Jarlaxle has lived long enough on the surface, mingling with enough surface folk to know, especially with what should be his level of perceptiveness, what it means to be a good father. He would need to have a good understanding of those kinds of dynamics, because they contain weaknesses that can be exploited. So, really, the only thing that would make all of this consistent is the latter possibility, which sadly, is where everything is trending anyway.

I'm not very emotionally invested in Jarlaxle, though I prefer him to most of the rest of the somewhat bland characters we see in Boundless. So when this many things make someone like me unhappy about Jarlaxle's characterization, I'd hate to see what someone who feels towards him like I feel towards Artemis Entreri will take away from Boundless. I'm sure that I'm missing a lot of irksome things, but the ones that I've pointed out are what stood out to me, and I'll end the discussion of Jarlaxle with one final example. In both Timeless and Boundless, Jarlaxle has this strange and decidedly non-Menzoberranzanyr perspective regarding "married couples" of drow. The usage of "husband" and "wife" in these books is extremely weird, because as we know from all D&D and Forgotten Realms source material, including Salvatore's own books, that there is no formality in Lolthite drow relationships. Females take males at their pleasure, abandoning them as whimsically as they pick them up, and being a Patron of a house means nothing. What's even more strange is that Zaknafein isn't even the Patron of House Do'Urden, Rizzen still holds that title while Zaknafein and Malice are sexually active together, yet since Timeless, Zaknafein has been referred to as Malice's husband. Furthermore, while, as far as we know, Jarlaxle has never slept with the partners of people that he likes, it was always more of a strategic decision rather than a moral one. For instance, he found Calihye and Dahlia unstable, thus not cuckolding Entreri and Drizzt, and the closest he'd come to showing interest to a "taken" partner was with Catti-brie, but even then, morals aren't what prevent him from pursuing her. Yet, steeped in the degenerate society of Menzoberranzan, Jarlaxle prefers not to have sexual contact with Malice because Zaknafein is his friend. Where did this belief come from? It certainly doesn't exist in drow culture, males are sex objects for the females, perhaps sometimes rising to the rank of favored toy, nothing more. In a society like that, the toy doesn't have delusions of possession. Jarlaxle is one of the few, if not only, male drow in Menzoberranzan who even has a choice, who can even say no to a female without being killed horribly. I get that Salvatore is trying to show that Jarlaxle is honorable towards his friendship with Zaknafein, but he doesn't have to break the character in addition to his own world-building, as well as that of other creatives', to do so. There are so many ways to do it, but I suppose those are less obvious and require more thinking.

Lieutenant

The poor characterizations extend beyond what's done to Jarlaxle. The number of times that an inconsistency arises between what a character is supposed to be/know and how they perceive things or act is staggering. In the past, there is Arathis Hune, Jarlaxle's first and only lieutenant for a long time, and presumably, one of his most trusted friends. Arathis and Jarlaxle should understand each other quite well, so the fact that Arathis didn't foresee that Jarlaxle would assist Zaknafein during Zaknafein's rigged duel with Duvon Tr'arach is unlikely. Arathis might've had an ace in the form of psionic assistance in swaying the match, but unless he is a total fool, he wouldn't think that Jarlaxle wasn't aware of his dalliances, especially with potential allies as powerful as Oblodrans. Furthermore, Jarlaxle's fondness of Zaknafein is enough of a thorn in Arathis' side that Arathis would've certainly anticipated Jarlaxle intervening on behalf of Zaknafein, even if Arathis didn't specifically guess that Jarlaxle would do so by means of lending Zaknafein his eyepatch. Even if Jarlaxle had never explicitly told Arathis about the functionality of his eyepatch, Arathis, who would've certainly witnessed Jarlaxle constantly escaping the various mind-manipulating magics of the priestesses of Lolth, should've been able to deduce that Jarlaxle has a magical item that protects him against such intrusions. Arathis might not be a master genius like Jarlaxle, but he is a drow, who are supposed to be masters of intrigue in their own right as being able to survive in Menzoberranzan requires such of them. Moreover, he is a capable enough drow that Jarlaxle chose him to be at his side, rather than tending the bar at the Oozing Myconid. Yet, Arathis doesn't foresee any of what he should've known immediately, nor did he have a backup plan, which to a drow is something that one possesses as certainly as keen eyesight.

Barbarian

In the present timeline, Wulfgar suffers from the same treatment given Arathis, which is really saying something since Wulfgar's characterization has been all over the place even before his rebirth. Nonetheless, two things that Wulfgar is supposed to be, are one, a good guy if not a hero, and two, not dumb, if not intelligent. Yet, Wulfgar's portrayal in Boundless shows him as possessing none of these positive traits. For the first trait, it wouldn't be the first time that a member of the Companions of the Hall thought or performed something dishonorable. In Hero, this manifests as Regis and Wulfgar literally kicking people who were already down. In Boundless, Wulfgar is surprisingly nonchalant about the possibility of Kimmuriel committing casual murder, even hoping for it:

The only thing that Calico Grimm is guilty of, that we're shown anyway, is being boisterous and foolish, which is hardly grounds deserving of death, unless it was early Artemis Entreri doing the adjudication. But this isn't early Artemis Entreri, or even current Artemis Entreri harboring such thoughts, it's Wulfgar, a returned hero. Calico Grimm might be obnoxious, but he's still a comrade in arms whose ship Wulfgar boarded. Even if it were the case that Calico Grimm is actually a pirate, one of the ne'er-do-wells that gives Luskan its shady reputation, it doesn't change the fact that they are on the same side. After all, the Companions of the Hall are supposed to stand for noble self sacrificing values like not randomly murdering people that are even temporarily on the same side as them.

Not only is Wulfgar's moral compass unaligned with how it's supposed to be, apparently, the damage that he'd done to his brain during his The Spine of the World alcoholism managed to stay with him through the reincarnation. That, or Drizzt and his supposedly tight-knit group of friends aren't as close as they're made out to be. During Wulfgar's duel with the demon-possessed captain of the fleet besieging Luskan, Kimmuriel imbues Wulfgar with a psionic shield that absorbs all damage and releases it all at once at the absorber's will. It's the same mechanic that's been used countless times in the past, including but not limited to saving newborn Jarlaxle from Matron Baenre's sacrificial dagger, preventing Calihye's blade from piercing an otherwise defenseless Entreri's heart, and, of course, allowing Drizzt to strike down Demogorgon with one hit. That last scenario is pretty monumental, and the kind of thing that Drizzt would've told his friends every detail of, for even if he didn't volunteer, surely they and others would've pried and pried about how he defeated Demogorgon. Yet, Wulfgar has no idea what's happening when his opponent's blows fail to scratch him. It's just mind-boggling that he doesn't make the connection, especially since psionicists are rare enough already in the Realms, even more so in Salvatore's corner of the Realms; Kimmuriel is literally the only psionicist that the Companions of the Hall know. Wulfgar's failure to put one and one together really leads me to wonder if the whole purpose of making him so obtuse is to perform yet more tedious review and Drizzt-flattering.

"Hero"

Most painful to me, of course, is Artemis Entreri, who only appears a bit more in Boundless than he does in Timeless, but what's done to him in Boundless is pretty bad. Entreri's characterization kicks off on the wrong foot from his entry in the Dramatis Personae section, which reads:

For the umpteenth time, Entreri would not have a concept of "friend", especially how it is presented in the Drizzt books. It's an oversimplification and kills the nuance of a character who would still have significant psychological scars and trust issues, even if he were truly and completely over his childhood traumas, which in itself is highly unlikely. I can forgive this bad summary of Entreri, but I can't overlook how, quite frankly, melodramatic, he's presented to be in Boundless. While the assassin seems to talk the talk, calling Regis a fool and ridiculing him for his naiveté, he definitely no longer walks the walk. The aura of intimidation that's so integral to his character no longer feels present. Entreri is quick to reassure Regis about the safety of Donnola, something that even his tempered down self seems unlikely to do. Regis and Entreri have history, and not all or even most of it was pleasant. It's as though Salvatore forgot that Regis found a helpless and broken Entreri dangling precariously from a branch, and rather than finishing him off quickly as would be the honorable thing to do, Regis stole Entreri's most prized possession, then cut him loose so that his final moments would be spent in fear and helplessness. One as fiercely protective of his own free will as is Entreri would not forget that so easily, and even if he doesn't actively hate the Companions of the Hall anymore, just as it makes sense that Regis is uncomfortable about the stub of his pinky that Entreri had inflicted on him in his previous life, Entreri should've let the little rat squirm before perhaps mentioning off the cuff that all the citizens of Bleeding Vines survived.

The worst thing done to Entreri in Boundless, however, is worse than the physical trials and travails that befall him. Given that the situation that ensnares him is that he's trapped in an unbreakable cocoon being stung on every mentionable (and unmentionable) part of his body by vicious demonic wasps, more and more I feel that it'd be best for Entreri if Salvatore just killed him off before ruining him more. While Entreri's plight is pretty dire, still, it doesn't seem like enough for him to launch into Drizzt journal entries' level of melodrama. Entreri has high levels of pain tolerance, as we've seen countless times in the past with him losing none of his agility or fighting prowess even after taking a blade through the ribs. Furthermore, the amount of psychological punishment he's endured far outweighs what he's gone through physically, such that he shouldn't resort to wishing for death right away, or cursing everyone, including himself, so quickly. I can maybe accept that he'd do so after a couple of tendays, but we only see him in the cocoon for a few days during Boundless. Furthermore, the impression given by how the pain is described in Boundless is significantly less than the pain that Herzgo Alegni inflicted upon Entreri by striking a tuning fork against Charon's Claw. It's more likely that someone of Entreri's discipline and willpower would've found some way to put his mind above the constant pain to focus on figuring out how to get out, if not simply detaching himself from the sensation. Instead, right from the get-go, the first soliloquy we see from him in the cocoon is:

In addition to being too weak, Entreri's portrayed as being too dependent. As a person who's lived twice as long as he should have and endured much more than his fair share of torment, one who is used to depending on no one save for himself, how quickly Entreri cries out for Dahlia, how quickly he wishes for death to be spared the pain, just doesn't fit. Instead it simply completes Salvatore's neutering process, now not only is Entreri a good guy, but he is no longer even a disciplined warrior. Salvatore's handling of Artemis Entreri is akin to what I'd said about Salvatore being not intelligent enough to write someone as brilliant as Jarlaxle. It's clear that Salvatore doesn't have enough understanding of trauma and physical pain thresholds to do justice to Entreri.

Mother

Another poor characterization in Boundless has to do with Dahlia, who seems to have completely forgotten about Effron. Effron doesn't make an appearance, or is even so much as mentioned, despite some portion of the novel dedicated to the Hosttower of the Arcane, where he currently resides. While I can buy that Effron isn't significant enough for Gromph to even think of him when declaring the position the Hosttower will take, he is, or at least should be, important enough to Dahlia for her to at least think of him. The relationship between Dahlia and Effron might have started off at a badly, but throughout the entirety of the Neverwinter Saga, Dahlia is tormented by guilt over her son. Seeing what she believed to be the remains of Effron broke Dahlia's mind and will, causing the normally fiery and irrepressible elf to docilely accept being dragged away for further torture. Seeing that Effron was safe and being reunited him would've granted Dahlia closure, but closure doesn't mean that she wouldn't want to see him and be near him. We've seen that Dahlia tends to be very clingy to those she cares about, so it seems unlikely that she'd accept living in a different city from Effron. Given what Dahlia's like, she should be torn between her love for Entreri and her love for Effron, especially as the two male characters don't much care for each other and most certainly wouldn't want to live together, which Dahlia would likely prefer so that she can be close to both. It should be a cause for tension, not Dahlia simply following Entreri around like a pet, not that Entreri would've allowed that anyway. For all of his dislike of Effron and his brusqueness with the general populace, Entreri has shown himself to be extremely devoted to the women that he's loved. Just as he looked for Calihye after she tried to kill him and accepted her back into his life years later, Entreri would've made certain that Dahlia wouldn't be miserable choosing him over her son.

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relenafanel · 6 years

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The Scarlet Pimpernel AU - a Patreon Reward Fic

for @ohsweetcrepes and based on the scarlet pimpernel tag (it was basically a given that I would write this for her)

[warning for recreational drug use whoops; established relationship; politics]

Steve adjusted the bandana covering his mouth and nose and squinted through the mass of people in front of him. The protection wouldn’t do much against teargas but it would help hide his identity. He’d arrived to the rally late after finishing up his article, and he observed the crowd carefully to judge the general mood. There was an energy thrumming, anger and discontent, and a hope of change. He could feel it on his skin, giving him goosebumps. It felt like revolution.

These things often did, but the feeling was starting to perforate the general population and each protest had more and more people attending. Things were happening, people were speaking up and noticing, and Steve couldn’t see any place for himself except in the middle of it.

It was the least he could do. Sometimes change started by just showing up.

Steve couldn’t understand how anyone could just sit back and wait instead of doing something about it. He didn’t understand complacency towards government corruption, not when the alternative was this. But then, he’d come to accept that radical action wasn’t for everyone.

The press of people moved forward, and Steve watched as the police started to push back. Pierce’s proposed policies against peaceful protests for the protection of the police and citizens made sense to too many people who didn’t question the implications it had against freedom for non-violent expression against the government.

Steve wasn’t close enough to see which side turned violent first, but he started to push his way through the crowd to get to the center of it, because that was why he did this. It wasn’t for the first-hand insight for an article – though that was a pleasant side-benefit – and it wasn’t for the glory. He didn’t want to see anyone getting hurt, but if and when things turned violent, well Steve threw a fantastic punch.

Someday he’d have a chance to use it on Pierce’s face. He didn’t care whether or not the man recognized him when he did. He did care whether or not it would lose him Bucky, but Steve was beginning to understand that Bucky might not blink an eye. His boyfriend might be the type to worry more about his manicure and outwardly express ‘let them eat cake’ when it came to political matters, but there was something beneath the surface when it came to his step-father that Steve couldn’t put his finger on.

Bucky was civil and polite, almost to the point of pontification.

It made Steve wonder.

And just when the tide of movement turned violent, the Winter Soldier was there with his performative muzzle and non-descript uniform, cutting through the crowd that parted for him like each footstep exuded a sense of get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way. Steve had seen people on Twitter call it a murder strut, and in the exposé Steve wrote he’d referred to it as a powerful statement of willpower.

The Winter Soldier stood between both sides, holding his hands out to stop the action. “There are two men in a black van a block from here with machine guns. They’ve been hired to make martyrs and villains of all of us to prove Pierce’s bill. Don’t let them get away with tyranny.” He said in a voice that carried through the entire park.

It was a tense moment, a stillness before action, before people reacted in fear.

The Winter Soldier moved to disappear in the chaos. Steve had learned a long time ago that following where he went was like playing a shell game of misdirection. He moved to his left, intent on questioning The Winter Soldier about whether what he said was true or a ruse.

He found himself getting swallowed by the fleeing crowd, and when he looked up he spotted Winter on a fire escape. The man seemed to see Steve at the same time Steve saw him, and he hesitated for a moment before climbing the rest of the way to the roof.

Steve swore and followed.

The roof was empty by the time he got to it. He stood there for a moment, wondering if he should take a chance by picking a direction to jump between buildings. Guesswork might not getting him anywhere but trapped on a roof with no access to the ground (or worse). Steve wasn’t a quitter, but he also knew that Winter would come find him eventually.

x.x.x.

Or immediately. Steve unlocked his car door to find Winter sitting in the passenger seat, feet up on the dash and mask still firmly in place. Steve had never seen him without it, not even while he was interviewing the man, and he respected Winter’s privacy and never asked.

“So was it true,” Steve asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. He’d parked an entire subway stop away. He didn’t know how Winter tracked him down, whether it was hacking skills, a bug on his car, or if Winter just knew him.

“I found out from someone close to the man himself.”

So it was true. It was the kind of reign of terror that Steve never expected to be a part of when he was taking his Political Science degree, but then he’d learned a lot about the reality of his country since then. There were people on American soil who’d always known.

“I could use someone closer,” Winter told him after Steve had been silently reflecting for a while. “Someone he’d never expect.”

“You’re not getting him,” Steve said in a rush, before his brain even realized Winter was talking about Bucky. “I tried feeling it out months ago. He doesn’t have the head for politics or intrigue. Maybe if you wanted to know what shoes all of Pierce’s staff members where wearing he could help you out.”

“I suppose he loves his father,” Winter sneered. “Would never want to see him lose power.”

Steve reflected on that for a moment. “I’m not sure love is the word.”

That seemed to surprise Winter as Steve pulled up to Bucky’s condo complex. He hadn’t meant to go to Bucky’s apartment, but all the talk of him had influenced Steve’s driving subconsciously.

“I don’t know why you stay,” the Winter Soldier finally said to Steve as Steve used his keyfob to gain entry to Bucky’s parking garage. It was opulent to the extreme, and so far removed from where they’d just been that it felt like a disconnect. Steve paused for a second because it wasn’t a question and didn’t really need an answer, but it felt like a small betrayal not to give one.

“Because we all need something normal that keeps us sane,” he finally said. A few months ago he might have laughed at Bucky Barnes being normal, but Steve’s definition of the term had shifted the more he got to know Bucky.

“He’s Pierce’s son, and he just lets all this happen. You hate people who don’t do their part,” Winter scoffed, pulling his feet off the dash. “Look at all this wealth. Don’t you feel how oppressive it is? The man I met could barely afford his basement studio apartment, and here you are playing boytoy to the 1%. You’ve got to be getting some kind of intel from it – an exclusive inside look?”

“It’s not about getting information,” Steve replied, pulling into Bucky’s second parking spot. Bucky’s car was still there, but that didn’t mean much. Bucky was marginally responsible about not driving under the influence and usually took an Uber out at night. Steve could never be sure if he was home until he unlocked the door of Bucky’s apartment and went looking for him.

“Do you at least get good blowjobs for your sacrifice, or are you just rolling over like—”

“Don’t,” Steve said in a firm voice, gripping Winter’s shoulder. “I respect what you do, but if you continue speaking, I won’t respect you as a person. We’re not friends, and I don’t allow anyone to speak to me like that, or to talk shit about my boyfriend.”

It was hard to read Winter’s expressions behind the mask, and he always kept his body in rigid control. Despite that, Steve got the sense he’d managed to stun the man who put himself in the middle of two sides of a protest. “You’re better than this.”

“I guess not,” Steve told him. “Now get out of my car.”

x.x.x.

“Hi! You’re here!” Bucky said cheerfully as he slipped out of his shoes and then fought his way out of his leather jacket with great difficulty. He swayed a little in the entrance and then used the furniture to help him walk towards Steve. His shirt was ridiculously see-through, and his pants were so low-hung Steve wondered if the only thing keeping them up was his dick.

He looked great.

He practically fell on top of Steve on the couch, nuzzling his head up under Steve’s chin. “Glad I came home,” he said, tucking his hands between Steve’s back and the couch pillow. Then he hummed in contentment.

“Are you high?” Steve asked.

“A little,” Bucky admitted. “Only pot this time. Mostly drunk.”

“Let’s get you to bed,” Steve said in an indulgent tone, leaving his book on top of Bucky’s couch, and moving to lever himself up. Bucky clung to him in a way that hindered his movements.

“No. I want to just stay like this for a moment,” Bucky told him, and somehow held tighter. “My Uber driver was listening to the news on the radio.”

Steve’s hand settled into Bucky’s hair. He was reminded of how sweet Bucky was when they were children. Beneath all the pomp and the ridiculous outfits and the partying, that Bucky was still there.

“I went to your place first,” Bucky admitted. “You weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky didn’t ask whether Steve had been at the protest. He didn’t need to. They might not have the type of relationship most people thought of when they met Steve, but the Steve who craved commitment and someone to talk to about his interests went out the window the moment Bucky gave him a coy smile and cocked his hip like he knew what Steve needed. Maybe, someday, Steve would worry about not finding those things with Bucky.

He felt at peace in Bucky’s arms, and a lot of Steve’s life wasn’t peaceful.

Bucky made him feel like a normal 20-something.

“I still have a little left if you want to relax,” Bucky offered, wriggling so he could reach into his pocket and pull out a joint. It looked a little sad from being crammed somewhere with absolutely no space. He looked at Steve’s face and seemed satisfied by whatever he saw there. “Get on my level,” he offered with a seductive grin, sitting up and reaching for a lighter. He was so dangerous because he was a temptation Steve wasn’t able to resist indulging in. “Then we can fuck. I haven’t in days,” he said with a roll of his hips and a small hitch of breath.

Steve grasped Bucky’s hip with one hand and took the offered joint with the other.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed as Steve inhaled. “God, you’re beautiful.”

x.x.x.

Bucky didn’t mind Steve using his computer. He didn’t really have anything to hide, his life an open book, and his taste in porn not something he kept a secret anyway. Steve never went snooping through his files, but Bucky wasn’t great about closing tabs, so he knew Bucky was considering joining a CycleYoga class and had ordered a new dildo. Not exactly things the FBI would monitor him for.

Steve, on the other hand, tended to write inciteful blog articles and would go down with freedom of the press as it kept getting squashed under what felt like a fascist dictatorship.

He was working for two hours before Bucky wandered into his kitchen completely naked, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and finished half of it. He had a bite mark on his shoulder from Steve’s mouth, and didn’t look nearly as hung over as Steve had seen him.

Steve just had enough time to hit save on his article before Bucky was sliding into his lap, showing off his flexibility a little by easily straddling Steve without pulling out the chair. “I love getting you stoned,” he said, scraping his teeth over the curve of Steve’s neck. “You get all lazy and selfish in bed.”

Steve made a face. “How can you love that?”

Bucky grinned, and Steve could feel it against his skin. “You just kind of lie there and let me use your dick and look at me like you can’t believe I exist and you can’t believe any of it is real. Like. You just stare at me in wonder. Usually you’re kind of a take-charge kind of lay, and I like that about you, but…”

“Sometimes you want to do the work?” Steve filled in.

“Yeah. Would you let me fuck you? I kind of wanted to last night, but we never discussed it so I wouldn’t presume.”

“Of course,” Steve replied, pushing Bucky’s laptop back on the table so he could lift Bucky on to it and lean into his space. “Now, if you want.”

Bucky smiled at him the way Steve expected Bucky to smile over getting permission for a new sex position – pleased, like someone who’d been given a fun present to open – but there was something else in his expression that Steve couldn’t put his finger on. Something predatory and intent, less like a fun present and more like the keys to a door that had been firmly locked. “Not now,” he answered, like that took effort. Then the expression was gone in a blink. “That can be something fun for later,” he promised with a nip at Steve’s lower lip. “Come back to bed. I need you.”

#stucky #fanfiction: drabble #pimpernel au #recreational drug use #they get high and fuck #off-screen #steve rogers #bucky barnes #the nyc patreon

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