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davidmann95 · 4 years

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So... Morrison’s 10 part interview on All-Star Superman, along with all other older Newsarama articles, just seem to have ceased to exist. One does not simply live without having those interviews available to reread... Can I find them anywhere else?

Rejoice! I finally borrowed a computer I could put my flash drive into, and emailed myself my copy of the Morrison interview. Here it is below the cut, copied and pasted direct from the source way back when, available again at last:

Three years, 12 issues, Eisners and countless accolades later, All Star Superman is finally finished. The out-of-continuity look at Superman’s struggle with his inevitable death was widely embraced by fans and pros as one of the best stories to feature the Man of Steel, and was a showcase for the talents of the creative team of Grant Morrison, Frank Quitely and Jamie Grant.

Now, Newsarama is proud to present an exclusive look back with Morrison at the series that took Superman to, pun intended, new heights. We had a lot of questions about the series...and Morrison delivered with an in-depth look into the themes, characters and ideas throughout the 12 issues. In fact, there was so much that we’re running this as an unprecedented 10-part series over the next two weeks – sort of an unofficial All Star Superman companion. It’s everything about All Star Superman you ever wanted to know, but were afraid to ask.

And of course there’s plenty of SPOILERS, so back away if you haven’t read the entire series.

Newsarama: Grant, tell us a little about the origin of the project.

Grant Morrison: Some of it has its roots in the DC One Million project from 1999. So much so, that some readers have come to consider this a prequel to DC One Million, which is fine if it shifts a few more copies! I’ve tried to give my own DC books an overarching continuity intended to make them all read as a more coherent body of work when I’m done.

Luthor’s “enlightenment” – when he peaks on super–senses and sees the world as it appears through Superman’s eyes – was an element I’d included in the Superman Now pitch I prepared along with Mark Millar, Tom Peyer and Mark Waid back in 1999. There were one or two of ideas of mine that I wanted to preserve from Superman Now and Luthor’s heart–stopping moment of understanding was a favorite part of the original ending for that story, so I decided to use it again here.

My specific take on Superman’s physicality was inspired by the “shamanic” meeting my JLA editor Dan Raspler and I had in the wee hours of the morning outside the San Diego comic book convention in whenever it was, ‘98 or ‘99.

I’ve told this story in more detail elsewhere but basically, we were trying to figure out how to “reboot” Superman without splitting up his marriage to Lois, which seemed like a cop–out. It was the beginning of the conversations which ultimately led to Superman Now, with Dan and I restlessly pacing around trying to figure out a new way into the character of Superman and coming up short...

Until we looked up to see a guy dressed as Superman crossing the train tracks. Not just any skinny convention guy in an ill–fitting suit, this guy actually looked like Superman. It was too good a moment to let pass, so I ran over to him, told him what we’d been trying to do and asked if he wouldn’t mind indulging us by answering some questions about Superman, which he did...in the persona and voice of Superman!

We talked for an hour and a half and he walked off into the night with his friend (no, it wasn’t Jimmy Olsen, sadly). I sat up the rest of the night, scribbling page after page of Superman notes as the sun came up over the naval yards.

My entire approach to Superman had come from the way that guy had been sitting; so easy, so confident, as if, invulnerable to all physical harm, he could relax completely and be spontaneous and warm. That pose, sitting hunched on the bollard, with one knee up, the cape just hanging there, talking to us seemed to me to be the opposite of the clenched, muscle-bound look the character sometimes sports and that was the key to Superman for me.

I met the same Superman a couple of times afterwards but he wasn’t Superman, just a nice guy dressed as Superman, whose name I didn’t save but who has entered into my own personal mythology (a picture has from that time has survived showing me and Mark Waid posing alongside this guy and a couple of young readers dressed as Superboy and Supergirl – it’s in the “Gallery” section at my website for anybody who can be bothered looking. This is the guy who lit the fuse that led to All Star Superman).

After the 1999 pitch was rejected, I didn’t expect to be doing any further work on Superman but sometime in 2002, while I was going into my last year on New X–Men, Dan DiDio called and asked if I wanted to come back to DC to work on a Superman book with Jim Lee.

Jim was flexing his artistic muscles again to great effect, and he wanted to do 12 issues on Superman to complement the work he was doing with Jeph Loeb on “Batman: Hush.” At the time, I wasn’t able to make my own commitments dovetail with Jim’s availability, but by then I’d become obsessed with the idea of doing a big Superman story and I’d already started working out the details.

Jim, of course, went on to do his 12 Superman issues as “For Tomorrow” with Brian Azzarello, so I found myself looking for an artist for what was rapidly turning into my own Man of Steel magnum opus, and I already knew the book had to be drawn by my friend and collaborator, Frank Quitely.

We were already talking about We3 and Superman seemed like a good meaty project to get our teeth into when that was done. I completely scaled up my expectations of what might be possible once Frank was on board and decided to make this thing as ambitious as possible.

Usually, I prefer to write poppy, throwaway “live performance” type superhero books, but this time, I felt compelled to make something for the ages – a big definitive statement about superheroes and life and all that, not only drawn by my favorite artist but starring the first and greatest superhero of them all.

The fact that it could be a non–continuity recreation made the idea even more attractive and more achievable. I also felt ready for it, in a way I don’t think I would have been in 1999; I finally felt “grown–up” enough to do Superman justice.

I plotted the whole story in 2002 and drew tiny colored sketches for all 12 covers. The entire book was very tightly constructed before we started – except that I’d left the ending open for the inevitable better and more focused ideas I knew would arise as the project grew into its own shape...and I left an empty space for issue 10. That one was intended from the start to be the single issue of the 12–issue run that would condense and amplify the themes of all the others. #10 was set aside to be the one–off story that would sum up anything anyone needed to know about Superman in 22 pages.

Not quite as concise an origin as Superman’s, but that’s how we got started.

NRAMA: When you were devising the series, what challenges did you have in building up this version of the Superman universe?

GM: I couldn’t say there were any particular challenges. It was fun. Nobody was telling me what I could or couldn’t do with the characters. I didn’t have to worry about upsetting continuity or annoying people who care about stuff like that.

I don’t have a lot of old comics, so my knowledge of Superman was based on memory, some tattered “70s books from the remains of my teenage collection, a bunch of DC “Best Of...” reprint editions and two brilliant little handbooks – “Superman in Action Comics” Volumes 1 and 2 – which reprint every single Action Comics cover from 1938 to 1988.

I read various accounts of Superman’s creation and development as a brand. I read every Superman story and watched every Superman movie I could lay my hands on, from the Golden Age to the present day. From the Socialist scrapper Superman of the Depression years, through the Super–Cop of the 40s, the mythic Hyper–Dad of the 50s and 60s, the questioning, liberal Superman of the early 70s, the bland “superhero” of the late 70s, the confident yuppie of the 80s, the over–compensating Chippendale Superman of the 90s etc. I read takes on Superman by Mark Waid, Mark Millar, Geoff Johns, Denny O’Neil, Jeph Loeb, Alan Moore, Paul Dini and Alex Ross, Joe Casey, Steve Seagle, Garth Ennis, Jim Steranko and many others.

I looked at the Fleischer cartoons, the Chris Reeve movies and the animated series, and read Alvin Schwartz’s (he wrote the first ever Bizarro story among many others) fascinating book – “An Unlikely Prophet” – where he talks about his notion of Superman as a tulpa, (a Tibetan word for a living thought form which has an independent existence beyond its creator) and claims he actually met the Man of Steel in the back of a taxi.

I immersed myself in Superman and I tried to find in all of these very diverse approaches the essential “Superman–ness” that powered the engine. I then extracted, purified and refined that essence and drained it into All Star’s tank, recreating characters as my own dream versions, without the baggage of strict continuity.

In the end, I saw Superman not as a superhero or even a science fiction character, but as a story of Everyman. We’re all Superman in our own adventures. We have our own Fortresses of Solitude we retreat to, with our own special collections of valued stuff, our own super–pets, our own “Bottle Cities” that we feel guilty for neglecting. We have our own peers and rivals and bizarre emotional or moral tangles to deal with.

I felt I’d really grasped the concept when I saw him as Everyman, or rather as the dreamself of Everyman. That “S” is the radiant emblem of divinity we reveal when we rip off our stuffy shirts, our social masks, our neuroses, our constructed selves, and become who we truly are.

Batman is obviously much cooler, but that’s because he’s a very energetic and adolescent fantasy character: a handsome billionaire playboy in black leather with a butler at this beck and call, better cars and gadgetry than James Bond, a horde of fetish femme fatales baying around his heels and no boss. That guy’s Superman day and night.

Superman grew up baling hay on a farm. He goes to work, for a boss, in an office. He pines after a hard–working gal. Only when he tears off his shirt does that heroic, ideal inner self come to life. That’s actually a much more adult fantasy than the one Batman’s peddling but it also makes Superman a little harder to sell. He’s much more of a working class superhero, which is why we ended the whole book with the image of a laboring Superman.

He’s Everyman operating on a sci–fi Paul Bunyan scale. His worries and emotional problems are the same as ours... except that when he falls out with his girlfriend, the world trembles.

Newsarama: Grant, what are some of your favorite moments from the 12 issues?

Grant Morrison: The first shot of Superman flying over the sun. The Cosmic Anvil. Samson and Atlas. The kiss on the moon. The first three pages of the Olsen story which, I think, add up to the best character intro I’ve ever written.

Everything Lex Luthor says in issue #5. Everything Clark does. The whole says/does Luthor/Superman dynamic as played out through Frank Quitely’s absolute mastery and understanding of how space, movement and expression combine to tell a story.

Superboy and his dog on the moon – that perfect teenage moment of infinite possibility, introspection and hope for the future. He’s every young man on the verge of adulthood, Krypto is every dog with his boy (it seemed a shame to us that Krypto’s most memorable moment prior to this was his death scene in “Whatever Happened To The Man of Tomorrow.” Quitely’s scampering, leaping, eager and alive little creature is how I’d prefer to imagine Krypto the Superdog and conjures finer and more subtle emotions).

Bizarro–Home, with all of Earth’s continental and ocean shapes but reversed. The page with the first appearance of Zibarro that Frank has designed so the eye is pulled down in a swirling motion into the drain at the heart of the image, to make us feel that we’re being flushed in a cloacal spiral down into a nihilistic, existential sink. Frank gave me that page as a gift, and it became weirdly emblematic of a strange, dark time in both our lives.

The story with Bar–El and Lilo has a genuine chill off ammonia and antiseptic off it, which makes it my least favorite issue of the series, although I know a lot of people who love it. It’s about dying relatives, obligations, the overlit overheated corridors between terminal wards, the thin metallic odors of chemicals, bad food and fear. Preparation for the Phantom Zone.

Superman hugging the poor, hopeless girl on the roof and telling us all we’re stronger than we think we are.

Joe Shuster drawing us all into the story forever and never–ending.

Nasthalthia Luthor. Frank and Jamie’s final tour of the Fortress, referencing every previous issue on the way, in two pages.

All of issue #10 (there’s a single typo in there where the time on the last page was screwed up – but when we fix that detail for the trade I’ll be able to regard this as the most perfectly composed superhero story I’ve ever written).

I don’t think I’ve ever had a smoother, more seamless collaborative process.

NRAMA: The story is very complete unto itself, but are there any new or classic characters you’d like to explore further? If so, which ones and why?

GM: I’d happily write more Atlas and Samson. I really like Krull, the Dino–Czar’s wayward son, and his Stalinist underground empire of “Subterranosauri.” I could write a Superman Squad comic forever. I’d love to write the “Son of Superman” sequel about Lois and Clark’s super test tube baby.

But...I think All Star is already complete, without sequels. You read that last issue and it works because you know you’re never going to see All Star Superman again. You’ll be able to pick up Superman books, but they won’t be about this guy and they won’t feel the same. He really is going away. Our Superman is actually “dying” in that sense, and that adds the whole series a deeper poignancy.

NRAMA: Aside from the Bizarro League, you never really introduce other DC superheroes into the story. Why did you make this choice?

GM: I wanted the story to be about the mythic Superman at the end of his time. It’s clear from the references that he has or more likely has had a few super–powered allies, but that they’re no longer around or relevant any more.

For the context of this story I wanted the super–friends to be peripheral, like they were in the old comics. The Flash? Green Lantern? They represent Superman’s “old army buddies,” or your dad’s school friends. Guys you’ve sort of heard of, who used to be more important in the old man’s life than they are now.

NRAMA: Some readers were confused as to how the “Twelve Labors” broke down, though others have pointed out that Superman’s actions are more reflective of the Stations of the Cross (I note there’s a “Station Café” in the background of issue #12). Could you break down the Twelve Labors, or, if the cross theory is true, how the storyline reflects the Stations?

GM: The 12 Labors of Superman were never intended as an isomorphic mapping onto the 12 Labors of Hercules, or for that matter, the specific Stations of the Cross, of which there are 14, I believe. I didn’t even want to do one Labor per issue, so it deliberately breaks down quite erratically through the series for reasons I’ll go into (later).

Yes, there are correspondences, but that’s mostly because we tried to create for our Superman the contemporary “superhero” version of an archetypal solar hero journey, which naturally echoes numerous myths, legends and religious parables.

At the same time, we didn’t want to do an update or a direct copy of any myth you’d seen before, so it won’t work if you try to find one specific mythological or religious “plan” to hang the series on; James Joyce’s honorable and heroic refutation of the rule aside, there’s nothing more dead and dull than an attempt to retell the Odyssey or the Norse sagas scene by scene, but in a modern and/or superhero setting.

For future historians and mythologizers, however, the 12 Labors of Superman may be enumerated as follows:

1. Superman saves the first manned mission to the sun. 2. Superman brews the Super–Elixir. 3. Superman answers the Unanswerable Question. 4. Superman chains the Chronovore.  5. Superman saves Earth from Bizarro–Home. 6. Superman returns from the Underverse. 7. Superman creates Life. 8. Superman liberates Kandor/cures cancer. 9. Superman defeats Solaris. 10. Superman conquers Death. 11. Superman builds an artificial Heart for the Sun. 12.Superman leaves the recipe/formula to make Superman 2.

And one final feat, which typically no–one really notices, is that Lex Luthor delivers his own version of the unified field haiku – explaining the underlying principles of the universe in fourteen syllables – which the P.R.O.J.E.C.T. G–Type philosopher from issue 4 had dedicated his entire life to composing!

You may notice also that the Labors take place over a year – with the solar hero’s descent into the darkness and cold of the Underverse occurring at midwinter/Christmas time (that’s also the only point in the story where we ever see Metropolis at night).

It can also be seen as the sun’s journey over the course of a day – we open in blazing sunshine but halfway through the book, at the end of issue #5, in fact, the solar hero dips below the horizon and begins the night–journey through the hours of darkness and death, before his triumphant resurrection at dawn. That’s why issue 5 ends with the boat to the Underworld and 6 begins with the moon. Clark Kent is crossing the threshold into the subconscious world of memory, shadows, death and deep emotions.

Although they can often have bizarre resonances, specific elements, like the Station Café, are usually put there by Frank Quitely, and are not necessarily secret Dan Brown–style keys to unlocking the mysteries. I think there might be a Station Café opposite the studio where Frank Quitely works and the “SAPIEN” sign on another storefront is a reference to Frank’s studio mate, Dave Sapien. At least he’s not filling the background with dirty words like he used to, given any opportunity

NRAMA: For that matter, do the Twelve Labors matter at all? They seem so purposely ill–defined. They seem more like misdirection or a MacGuffin than anything that needs to be clearly delineated.

GM: They matter, of course, but the 12 Labors idea is there to show that, as with all myth, the systematic ordering of current events into stories, tales, or legends occurs after the fact.

I’m trying to suggest that only in the future will these particular 12 feats, out of all the others ever, be mythologized as 12 Labors. I suppose I was trying to say something about how people impose meaning upon events in retrospect, and that’s how myth is born. It’s hindsight that provides narrative, structure, meaning and significance to the simple unfolding of events. It’s the backward glance that adds all the capital letters to the list above.

Even Superman isn”t sure how many Labors he’s performed when we see him mulling it over in issue 10.  When you watched it happening, it seemed to be Superman just doing his thing. In the future it’s become THE 12 LABORS OF SUPERMAN!

NRAMA: And on a completely ridiculous note: All–Star Superman is perhaps the most difficult–to–abbreviate comic title since Preacher: Tall in the Saddle. Did you realize this going in?

GM: Going into what? Going into ASS itself? In the sense of how did I feel as I slowly entered ASS for the first time?

It never crossed my mind...

Newsarama: I’d like to know a little more about Leo Quintum and his role in the story. He seems like a bit of an outgrowth of the likes of Project Cadmus and Emil Hamilton, but in a more fantastical, Willy Wonka sense.

Grant Morrison: Yeah, he was exactly as you say, my attempt to create an updated take on the character of “Superman’s scientist friend” – in the vein of Emil Hamilton from the animated show and the ‘90s stories. Science so often goes wrong in Superman stories, and I thought it was important to show the potential for science to go right or to be elevated by contact with Superman’s shining positive spirit.

I was thinking of Quintum as a kind of “Man Who Fell To Earth” character with a mysterious unearthly background. For a while I toyed with the notion that he was some kind of avatar of Lightray of the New Gods, but as All Star developed, that didn’t fit the tone, and he was allowed to simply be himself.

Eventually it just came down to simplicity. Leo Quintum represents the “good” scientific spirit – the rational, enlightened, progressive, utopian kind of scientist I figured Superman might inspire to greatness. It was interesting to me how so many people expected Quintum to turn out bad at the end. It shows how conditioned we are in our miserable, self–loathing, suspicious society to expect the worst of everyone, rather than hope for the best. Or maybe it’s just what we expect from stories.

Having said that, there is indeed a necessary whiff of Lucifer about Quintum. His name, Leo Quintum, conjures images of solar force, lions and lightbringers and he has elements of the classic Trickster figure about him. He even refers to himself as “The Devil Himself” in issue #10.

What he’s doing at the end of the story should, for all its gee–whiz futurity, feel slightly ambiguous, slightly fake, slightly “Hollywood.” Yes, he’s fulfilling Superman’s wishes by cloning an heir to Superman and Lois and inaugurating a Superman dynasty that will last until the end of time – but he’s also commodifying Superman, figuring out how it’s done, turning him into a brand, a franchise, a bigger–and–better “revamp,” the ultimate coming attraction, fresher than fresh, newer than new but familiar too. Quintum has figured out the “formula” for Superman and improved upon it.

And then you can go back to the start of All Star Superman issue #1 and read the “formula” for yourself, condensed into eight words on the first page and then expanded upon throughout the story! The solar journey is an endless circle naturally. A perfect puzzle that is its own solution.

In one way, Quintum could be seen to represent the creative team, simultaneously re–empowering a pure myth with the honest fire of Art...while at the same time shooting a jolt of juice through a concept that sells more “S” logo underpants and towels than it does comic books. All tastes catered!

I have to say that the Willy Wonka thing never crossed my mind until I saw people online make the comparison, which seems quite obvious now. Quintum dresses how I would dress if I was the world’s coolest super–scientist. What’s up with that?

NRAMA: Was Zibarro inspired by the Bizarro World story where the Bizarro–Neanderthal becomes this unappreciated Casanova–type?

GM: Don’t know that one, but it sounds like a scenario I could definitely endorse!

Zibarro started out as a daft name sicked–up by my subconscious mind, which flowered within moments into the must–write idea of an Imperfect Bizarro. What would an imperfect version of an already imperfect being be like?

Zibarro.

NRAMA: I’d like to know more about Zibarro – what’s the significance of his chronicling Bizarro World through poetry?

GM: It’s up to you. I see Zibarro partly as the sensitive teenager inside us all. He’s moody, horribly self–aware and uncomfortable, yet filled with thoughts of omnipotence and agency. He’s the absolute center of his tiny, disorganized universe. He’s playing the role of sensitive, empathic poet but at the same time, he’s completely self–absorbed.

When he says to Superman “Can you even imagine what it’s like to be so different. So unique. So unlike everyone else?” he doesn’t even wait for Superman’s reply. He doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings but his own, ultimately.

NRAMA: The character is very close to Superman, so what does it say that a nonpowered version on a savage world would focus his energy through that medium? Also, does Zibarro’s existence show how Superman is able to elevate even the backwards Bizarros through his very nature?

GM: All of the above. And maybe he writes his totally subjective poetry as a reflection of Clark Kent’s objective reporter role. The suppressed, lyrical, wounded side of Superman perhaps? The Super–Morrissey? Bizarro With The Thorn In His Side?

But he’s also Bizarro–Home’s “mistake” (or so it seems to him, even though he’s as natural an expression of the place as any of the other Bizarro creatures who grow like mold across the surface of their living planet). He feels excluded, a despised outsider, and yet that position is what defines his cherished self–image. He expresses himself through poetry because to him the regular Bizarro language is barbaric, barely articulate and guttural. And they all think he’s talking crap anyway.

It seemed to make sense that an interesting opposite of Bizarro speech might be flowery “woe is me” school Poetry Society odes to the sunset in a misunderstood heart. He’s still a Bizarro though, which makes him ineffectual. His tragedy is that he knows he’s fated to be useless and pointless but craves so much more.

NRAMA: Zibarro also represents a recurrent theme in the story, of Superman constantly facing alternate versions of himself – Bar–El, Samson and Atlas, the Superman Squad, even Luthor by the end. Notably, Hercules is absent, though Superman’s doing his Twelve Labors. With the mythological adventurers in particular, was this designed to equate Superman with their legend, to show how his character is greater than theirs, or both?

GM: In a way, I suppose. He did arm–wrestle them both, proving once and for all Superman’s stronger than anybody! And remember, these characters, along with Hercules, used to appear regularly in Superman books as his rivals. I thought they made better rivals than, say, Majestic or Ultraman because people who don’t read comics have heard of Hercules, Samson and Atlas and understand what they represent.

For that particular story, I wanted to see Superman doing tough guy shit again, like he did in the early days and then again in the 70s, when he was written as a supremely cocky macho bastard for a while. I thought a little bit of that would be an antidote to the slightly soppy, Super–Christ portrayal that was starting to gain ground.

Hence Samson’s broken arm, twisted in two directions beyond all repair. And Atlas in the hospital. And then Superman’s got his hot girlfriend dressed like a girl from Krypton and they’re making out on the moon (the original panel description was of something more like the famous shot of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing in the surf from “From Here To Eternity.” Frank’s final choice of composition is much more classically pulp–romantic and iconic than my down and dirty rumble in the moondirt would have been, I’m glad to say).

Newsarama: Tell us about some of the thinking behind the new antagonists you created for this series (at least the ones you want to talk about...): First up: Krull and the Subterranosaurs...

Grant Morrison: We wanted to create some throwaway new characters which would be designed to look as if they were convincing long–term elements of the Superman legend.

We were trying to create a few foes who had a classic feel and a solid backstory that could be explored again or in depth. Even if we never went back to these characters, we wanted them to seem rich enough to carry their own stories.

With Krull, we figured a superhuman character like Superman can always use a powerful “sub–human” opponent: a beast, a monster, a savage with the power to destroy civilization. For years I’ve had the idea that the familiar “gray aliens” might “actually” be evolved biped dinosaur descendants, the offspring of smart–thinking lizards which made their way to the warm regions at the Earth’s core.

I imagined these brutes developing their own technology, their own civilization, and then finally coming to the surface to declare bloody war on the mammalian usurpers! It seemed like we could develop this idea into the Krull backstory and suggest a whole epic conflict in a few panels.

Dom Regan, the Glasgow artist and DC colorist, saw the original green skin Jamie Grant had done for Krull, and suggested we make him red instead. Jamie reset his color filters and that was the moment Krull suddenly looked like a real Superman foe.

The red skin marked him out as unique, different and dangerous, even among his own species. It had echoes of Jack Kirby’s Devil Dinosaur that played right into the heart of the concept. A good design became a great design and the whole story of who Krull was – his twisted relationship with his father the Dino–Czar, his monstrous ambitions – came together in that first picture.

The society was fleshed out in the script even though we see only one panel of it – a gloomy, heavy, “Soviet” underworld of walled iron cities, cold blood and deadly intrigue. War–Barges that could sail on the oceans of heated steam at the center of the Earth. A Stalinist authoritarian lizard world where missing person cases were being taken to work and die as slaves in hellish underworld conditions.

NRAMA: Mechano–Man?

GM: An attempt to pre–imagine a classic, archetypal Superman foe, which started with another simple premise – how about a giant robot villain? But not just any giant robot – this is a rampaging machine with a raging little man inside.

Giving him a bitter, angry, scrawny loser as a pilot turned Mechano–Man into a much more extreme and pathological expression of the Man of Steel/Mild–Mannered Reporter dynamic, and added a few interesting layers onto an 8–panel appearance.

NRAMA: The Chronovore – a very disturbing creation, that one.

GM: The Chronovore was mentioned in passing in DC 1,000,000 and would have been the monster in my aborted Hypercrisis series idea. It took a long time to get the right design for the beast because it’s meant to be a 5–D being that we only ever see in 4–D sections. It had to work as a convincing representation of something much bigger that we’re seeing only where it interpenetrates our 4–D space-time continuum.

Imagine you’re walking along with a song in your teenage heart, then suddenly the Chronovore appears, takes bite out of your life, and you arrive at your girlfriend’s house aged 76, clutching a cell phone and a wilted bouquet.

NRAMA: One more obscure run that I was happy to see referenced in this was the use of Nasty from the old Mike Sekowsky Supergirl stories. What made you want to use this character?

GM: I remembered her from the old comics, and felt her fashion–y look could be updated very easily into the kind of fetish club thing I’ve always been partial to.

She seemed a cool and sexy addition to the Luthor plot. The set–up, where Lex has a fairly normal sister who hates how her wayward brother is such a bad influence on her brilliant daughter, is explosive with character potential.

They need to bring Nasty back to mainstream continuity. Geoff! They all want it and you know you never let them down!

NRAMA: Speaking of Mike Sekowsky, I’m curious about his influence on your work. I have an odd fascination with all the ideas and stories he was tossing around in the late 1960s and early 1970s – Jason’s Quest, Manhunter 2070, the I–Ching tales – and many of the characters he worked on, from the B”Wana Beast to the Inferior Five to Yankee Doodle (in Doom Patrol), have shown up in your work. The Bizarro Zoo in issue #10 is even slightly reminiscent of the Beast’s merged animals.

GM: Those were all comics that were around when I was a normal kid, prior to the obsessive collecting fan phase of my isolated teenage years. They clearly inspired me in some way, as you say, but certainly not consciously. I’d never have considered myself a particular fan of Mike Sekowsky’s work, but as you say, I’ve incorporated a lot of his ideas into the DC Universe work I’ve done. Hmm. Interesting.

While I’m at it, I should also say something about Samson and Atlas, halfway between old characters and new.

Samson, Atlas and Hercules were classical mainstays of old Superman covers, tangling with Superman in all those Silver Age stories that happened before he learned from his friends at Marvel that it was possible to fight other superheroes for fun and profit, so I decided to completely “re–vamp” the characters in the manner of superhero franchises. Marvel has the definitive Hercules for me, so I left him out of the mix and concentrated on Atlas and Samson.

Atlas was re–imagined as a mighty but restless and reckless young prince of the New Mythos – a society of mega–beings playing out their archetypal dramas between New Elysium and Hadia, with ordinary people caught in the middle – and Superman.

Essentially good–hearted, Atlas would have been the newbie in a “team” with Skyfather Xaoz!, Heroina, Marzak and the others. He has a bullish, adolescent approach to life. He drinks and plunges himself into ill–advised adventures to ease his naturally gloomy “weighed down by the world” temperament.

You can see it all now. The backstory suggested an unseen, Empyrean New Gods–type series from a parallel universe. What if, when Jack Kirby came to DC from Marvel in 1971, he’d followed up his sci–fi Viking Gods saga at Marvel, with a dimension–spanning epic rooted in Greek mythology? New Gods meets Eternals drawn by Curt Swan/Murphy Anderson? That was Atlas.

Samson, I decided would be a callback to the British newspaper strip “Garth.” Although you may already be imagining a daily strip about the exploits of time–tossed The Boys writer, Garth Ennis, it was actually about a blonde Adonis type who bounced around the ages having mildly horny, racy adventures.

(Go look him up then return the wiser before reading on, so I don’t have to explain anymore about this bastard – he’s often described as “the British Superman,” but oh...my arse! I hated meathead, personality–singularity Garth...but we all grew up with his meandering, inexplicable yet incredibly–drawn adventures and some of it was quite good when you were a little lad because he was always shagging ON PANEL with the likes of a bare–breasted cave girl or gauze–draped Helen of Troy.

(Unlike Superman, you see, the top British strongman liked to get naked. Lots naked. Naked in every time period he could get naked in, which was all of them thanks to the miracle of his bullshit powers.

(Imagine Doctor Who buff, dumb and naked all the time – Russell, I’ve had an idea!!!! – and that’s Garth in a nutshell.

(Sorry, I know I’m going on and the average attention span of anyone reading stuff on the Internet amounts to no more than a few paragraphs, but basically, Garth was always getting naked. In public, in family newspapers. Bollock naked. Let’s face it, patriotic Americans, have you ever seen Superman’s arse?

Newsarama Note: Well, there was Baby Kal-El in the 1978 film...

(Brits, hands up who still remember the man, and have you ever not seen Garth’s arse? Do you not, in fact, have a very clear image of it in your head, as drawn by Martin Asbury perhaps? In mine, Garth’s pulling aside a flimsy curtain to gaze at the pyramids with Cleopatra buck naked in foreground ogling his rock hard glutes...).

Anyway, Samson, I decided, was the Hebrew version of Garth and he would have his own mad comic that was like an American version of Garth. I saw the Bible hero plucked from the desert sands by time–travelling buffoons in search of a savior. Introduced to all the worst aspects of future culture and, using his stolen, erratic Chrono–Mobile, Samson became a time–(and space) traveling Soldier of Fortune, writing wrongs, humping princesses, accumulating and losing treasure etc. Like a science fiction Conan. Meets Garth.

Fortunately, you’ll never see any of these men ever again.

Newsarama: How have your perceptions of Superman and his supporting characters evolved since the Superman 2000 pitch you did with Mark Waid, Mark Millar and Tom Peyer? The Superman notions seem almost identical, but Luthor is very different here than in that pitch, and so is Clark Kent. Did you use some aspects of your original pitch, or have you just changed his mind on how to portray these characters since?

Grant Morrison: A little of both. I wanted to approach All Star Superman as something new, but there were a couple of specific aspects from the Superman 2000 pitch (as I mentioned earlier, it was actually called Superman Now, at least in my notebooks, which is where the bulk of the material came from) that I felt were definitely worth keeping and exploring.

I can’t remember much about Luthor from Superman Now, except for the ending. By the time I got to All Star Superman, I’d developed a few new insights into Luthor’s character that seemed to flesh him out more. Luthor’s really human and charismatic and hateful all the same time. He’s the brilliant, deluded egotist in all of us. The key for me was the idea that he draws his eyebrows on. The weird vanity of that told me everything I needed to know about Luthor.

I thought the real key to him was the fact that, brilliant as he is, Luthor is nowhere near as brilliant as he wants to be or thinks he is. For Luthor, no praise, no success, no achievement is ever enough, because there’s a big hungry hole in his soul. His need for acknowledgement and validation is superhuman in scale. Superman needs no thanks; he does what he does because he’s made that way. Luthor constantly rails against his own sense of failure and inadequacy...and Superman’s to blame, of course.

I’ve recently been re–thinking Luthor again for a different project, and there’s always a new aspect of the character to unearth and develop.

NRAMA: This story makes Superman and Lois’ relationship seem much more romantic and epic than usual, but this one also makes Superman more of the pursuer. Lois seems like more of an equal, but also more wary of his affections, particularly in the black–and–white sequence in issue #2.

She becomes this great beacon of support for him over the course of the series, but there is a sense that she’s a bit jaded from years of trickery and uncomfortable with letting him in now that he’s being honest. How, overall, do you see the relationship between Superman and Lois?

GM: The black-and-white panels shows Lois paranoid and under the influence of an alien chemical, but yes, she’s articulating many of her very real concerns in that scene.

I wanted her to finally respond to all those years of being tricked and duped and led to believe Superman and Clark Kent were two different people. I wanted her to get her revenge by finally refusing to accept the truth.

It also exposed that brilliant central paradox in the Superman/Lois relationship. The perfect man who never tells a lie has to lie to the woman he loves to keep her safe. And he lives with that every day. It’s that little human kink that really drives their relationship.

NRAMA: Jimmy Olsen is extremely cool in this series – it’s the old “Mr. Action” idea taken to a new level. It’s often easy to write Jimmy as a victim or sycophant, but in this series, he comes off as someone worthy of being “Superman’s Pal” – he implicitly trusts Superman, and will take any risk to get his story. Do you see this version of Jimmy as sort of a natural evolution of the version often seen in the comics?

GM: It was a total rethink based on the aspects of Olsen I liked, and playing down the whole wet–behind–the–ears “cub reporter” thing. I borrowed a little from the “Mr. Action” idea of a more daredevil, pro–active Jimmy, added a little bit of Nathan Barley, some Abercrombie & Fitch style, a bit of Tintin, and a cool Quitely haircut.

Jimmy was renowned for his “disguises” and bizarre transformations (my favorite is the transvestite Olsen epic “Miss Jimmy Olsen” from Jimmy Olsen #95, which gets a nod on the first page of our Jimmy story we did), so I wanted to take that aspect of his appeal and make it part of his job.

I don’t like victim Jimmy or dumb Jimmy, because those takes on the character don’t make any sense in their context. It seemed more interesting see what a young man would be like who could convincingly be Superman’s “pal.” Someone whose company a Superman might actually enjoy. That meant making Jimmy a much bigger character: swaggering but ingenuous. Innocent yet worldly. Enthusiastic but not stupid.

My favorite Jimmy moment is in issue #7 when he comes up with the way to defeat the Bizarro invasion by using the seas of the Bizarro planet itself as giant mirrors to reflect toxic – to Bizarros – sunlight onto the night side of the Earth. He knows Superman can actually take crazy lateral thinking like this and put it into practice.

NRAMA: Perry White has a few small–but–key scenes, particularly his address to his staff in issue #1 and standing up to Luthor in issue #12. I’d like to hear more about your thoughts on this character.

GM: As with the others, my feelings are there on the page. Perry is Clark’s boss and need only be that and not much more to play his role perfectly well within the stories. He’s a good reminder that Superman has a job and a boss, unlike that good–for–nothing work-shy bastard Batman. Perry’s another of the series’ older male role models of integrity and steadfastness, like Pa Kent.

NRAMA: There’s a sense in the Daily Planet scenes and with Lois’s spotlight issues that everyone knows Clark is Superman, but they play along to humor him. The Clark disguise comes off as very obvious in this story. Do you feel that the Planet staff knows the truth, or are just in a very deep case of denial, like Lex?

GM: If I had to say for sure, I think Jimmy Olsen worked it out a long time ago, and simply presumes that if Superman has a good reason for what he’s doing, that’s good enough for Jimmy.

Lois has guessed, but refuses to acknowledge it because it exposes her darkest flaw – she could never love Clark Kent the way she loves Superman.

NRAMA: Also, the Planet staff seems awfully nonchalant at Luthor’s threats. Are they simply used to being attacked by now?

GM: Yes. They’re a tough group. They also know that Superman makes a point of looking out for them, so they naturally try to keep Luthor talking. They know he loves to talk about himself and about Superman. In that scene, he’s almost forgotten he even has powers, he’s so busy arguing and making points. He keeps doing ordinary things instead of extraordinary things.

NRAMA: The running gag of Clark subtly using his powers to protect unknowing people is well done, but I have to admit I was confused by the sequence near the end of issue #1. Was that an el–train, and if so, why was it so close to the ground?

GM: It’s a MagLev hover–train. Look again, and you’ll see it’s not supported by anything. Hover–trains help ease congestion in busy city streets! Metropolis is the City of Tomorrow, after all.

NRAMA: And there’s the death of Pa Kent. Why do you feel it’s particularly important to have Pa and not both of the Kents pass away?

GM: I imagined they had both passed away fairly early in Superman’s career, but Ma went a few years after Pa. Also, because the book was about men or man, it seemed important to stress the father/son relationships. That circle of life, the king is dead, long live the king thing that Superman is ultimately too big and too timeless to succumb to.

NRAMA: There is a real touch of Elliott S! Maggin’s novels in your depiction of Luthor – someone who is just so obsessive–compulsive about showing up Superman that he accomplishes nothing in his own life. He comes across as a showman, from his rehearsed speech in issue #1 to his garish costume in the last two issues, and it becomes painfully apparent that he wants to usurp Superman because he just can’t be happy with himself. What defeats him is actually a beautiful gift, getting to see the world as Superman does, and finally understanding his enemy.

That’s all a lead–in to: What previous stories that defined Luthor for you, and how did you define his character? What appeals to you about writing him?

GM: The Marks Waid and Millar were big fans of the Maggin books, and may have persuaded me to read at least the first one but I’m ashamed to say can’t remember anything about it, other than the vague recollection of a very humane, humanist take on Superman that seemed in general accord with the pacifist, hedonistic, between–the–wars spirit of the ‘90s when I read it. It was the ‘90s; I had other things on my mind and in my mind.

I like Maggin’s “Must There Be A Superman?” from Superman #247, which ultimately poses questions traditional superhero comic books are not equipped to answer and is one of the first paving stones in the Yellow Brick Road that leads to Watchmen and beyond, to The Authority, The Ultimates etc. Everyone still awake, still reading this, should make themselves familiar with “Must There Be A Superman?” – it’s a milestone in the development of the superhero concept.

However, the story that most defines Luthor for me turns out to be, as usual, a Len Wein piece with Curt Swan/Murphy Anderson– Superman #248. This blew me away when I was a kid. Lex Luthor cares about humanity? He’s sorry we all got blown up? The villain loves us too? It’s only Superman he really hates? Genius. Big, cool adult stuff.

The divine Len makes Lex almost too human, but it was amazing to see this kind of depth in a character I’d taken for granted as a music hall villain.

I also love the brutish Satanic, Crowley–esque, Golden Age Luthor in the brilliant “Powerstone” Action Comics #47 (the opening of All Star #11 is a shameless lift from “Powerstone”, as I soon realised when I went back to look. Blame my...er...photographic memory...cough).

And I like the Silver Age Luthor who only hates Superman because he thinks it’s Superboy’s fault he went bald. That was the most genuinely human motivation for Luthor’s career of villainy of all; it was Superman’s fault he went bald! I can get behind that.

In the Silver Age, baldness, like obesity, old age and poverty, was seen quite rightly as a crippling disease and a challenge which Superman and his supporting cast would be compelled to overcome at every opportunity! Suburban “50s America versus Communist degeneracy? You tell me.

I like elements of the Marv Wolfman/John Byrne ultra–cruel and rapacious businessman, although he somewhat lacks the human dimension (ultimately there’s something brilliant about Luthor being a failed inventor, a product of Smallville/Dullsville – the genius who went unnoticed in his lifetime, and resorted to death robots in chilly basements and cellars. Luthor as geek versus world). I thought Alan Moore’s ruthlessly self–assured “consultant” Luthor in Swamp Thing was an inspired take on the character as was Mark Waid’s rage–driven prodigy from Birthright.

I tried to fold them all into one portrayal. I see him as a very human character – Superman is us at our best, Luthor is us when we’re being mean, vindictive, petty, deluded and angry. Among other things. It’s like a bipolar manic/depressive personality – with optimistic, loving Superman smiling at one end of the scale and paranoid, petty Luthor cringing on the other.

I think any writer of Superman has to love these two enemies equally. We have to recognize them both as potentials within ourselves. I think it’s important to find yourself agreeing with Luthor a bit about Superman’s “smug superiority” – we all of us, except for Superman, know what it’s like to have mean–spirited thoughts like that about someone else’s happiness. It’s essential to find yourself rooting for Lex, at least a little bit, when he goes up against a man–god armed only with his bloody–minded arrogance and cleverness.

Even if you just wish you could just give him a hug and help him channel his energies in the right direction, Luthor speaks for something in all of us, I like to think.

However he’s played, Luthor is the male power fantasy gone wrong and turned sour. You’ve got everything you want but it’s not enough because someone has more, someone is better, someone is cleverer or more handsome.

Newsarama: Grant, a recurring theme throughout the book is the effect of small kindness – how even the likes of Steve Lombard are capable of decency. And Superman gets the key to saving himself by doing something that any human being could do, offering sympathy to a person about to end it all.

Grant Morrison: Completely...the person you help today could be the person who saves your life tomorrow.

NRAMA: The character actions that make the biggest difference, from Zibarro’s sacrifice to Pa’s influence on Superman, are really things that any normal, non-powered person could do if they embrace the best part of their humanity. The last page of issue #12 teases the idea that Superman’s powers could be given to all mankind, but it seems as though the greatest gift he has given them is his humanity. How do you view Superman’s fate in the context of where humanity could go as a species?

GM: I see Superman in this series as an Enlightenment figure, a Renaissance idea of the ideal man, perfect in mind, body and intention.

A key text in all of this is Pico’s ‘Oration On The Dignity of Man’ (15c), generally regarded as the ‘manifesto’ of Renaissance thought, in which Giovanni Pico Della Mirandola laid out the fundamentals of what we tend to refer to as ’Humanist’ thinking.

(The ‘Oratorio’ also turns up in my British superhero series Zenith from 1987, which may indicate how long I’ve been working towards a Pico/Superman team-up!)

At its most basic, the ‘Oratorio’ is telling us that human beings have the unique ability, even the responsibility, to live up to their ‘ideals’. It would be unusual for a dog to aspire to be a horse, a bird to bark like a dog, or a horse to want to wear a diving suit and explore the Barrier Reef, but people have a particular gift for and inclination towards imitation, mimicry and self-transformation. We fly by watching birds and then making metal carriers that can outdo birds, we travel underwater by imitating fish, we constantly look to role models and behavioral templates for guidance, even when those role models are fictional TV or, comic, novel or movie heroes, just like the soft, quick, shapeshifty little things we are. We can alter the clothes we wear, the temperature around us, and change even our own bodies, in order to colonize or occupy previously hostile environments. We are, in short, a distinctively malleable and adaptable bunch.

So, Pico is saying, if we live by imitation, does it not make sense that we might choose to imitate the angels, the gods, the very highest form of being that we can imagine? Instead of indulging the most brutish, vicious, greedy and ignorant aspects of the human experience, we can, with a little applied effort, elevate the better part of our natures and work to express those elements through our behavior. To do so would probably make us all feel a whole lot better too. Doing good deeds and making other people happy makes you feel totally brilliant, let’s face it.

So we can choose to the astronaut or the gangster. The superhero or the super villain. The angel or the devil. It’s entirely up to us, particularly in the privileged West, how we choose to imagine ourselves and conduct our lives.

We live in the stories we tell ourselves. It’s really simple. We can continue to tell ourselves and our children that the species we belong to is a crawling, diseased, viral cancer smear, only fit for extinction, and let’s see where that leads us.

We can continue to project our self-loathing and narcissistic terror of personal mortality onto our culture, our civilization, our planet, until we wreck the promise of the world for future generations in a fit of sheer self-induced panic...

...or we can own up to the scientific fact that we are all physically connected as parts of a single giant organism, imagine better ways to live and grow...and then put them into practice. We can stop pissing about, start building starships, and get on with the business of being adults.

The ’Oratorio’ is nothing less than the Shazam!, the Kimota! for Western Culture and we would do well to remember it in our currently trying times.

The key theme of the ‘Dark Age’ of comics was loss and recovery of wonder - McGregor’s Killraven trawling through the apocalyptic wreckage of culture in his search for poetry, meaning and fellowship, Captain Mantra, amnesiac in Robert Mayer’s Superfolks, Alan Moore’s Mike Maxwell trudging through the black and white streets of Thatcher’s Britain, with the magic word of transformation burning on the tip of his tongue.

My own work has been an ongoing attempt to repeat the magic word over and over until we all become the kind of superheroes we’d all like to be. Ha hah ha.

Newsarama: The structure of the 12 issues involves both Superman’s 12 labors and his impending death. Do you feel the threat of his demise brings out the best in Superman’s already–high character, or did you intend it more as a window for the audience to understand how he sees the world?

Grant Morrison: In trying to do the “big,” ultimate Superman story, we wanted to hit on all the major beats that define the character – the “death of Superman” story has been told again and again and had to be incorporated into any definitive take. Superman’s death and rebirth fit the sun god myth we were establishing, and, as you say, it added a very terminal ticking clock to the story.

NRAMA: When we talked earlier this year, we discussed the neurotic quality of the Silver Age stories. Looking at the series as a whole, you consistently invert this formula. Superman is faced with all these crises that could be seen as personifying his neuroses, but for the most part he handles them with a level head and comes across as being very at peace with himself. You talked about your discussion with an in–character Superman fan at a convention years ago, but I am curious as to how you determined Superman’s mindset.

GM: I felt we had to live up to the big ideas behind Superman. I don’t take my daft job lightly. It’s all I’ve got.

As the project got going, I wasn’t thinking about Silver Ages or Dark Ages or anything about the comics I’d read, so much as the big shared idea of “Superman” and that “S” logo I see on T–shirts everywhere I go, on girls and boys. That communal Superman. I wanted us to get the precise energy of Platonic Superman down on the page.

The “S” hieroglyph, the super–sigil, stands for the very best kind of man we can imagine, so the subject dictated the methodical, perfectionist approach. As I’ve mentioned before, I keep this aspect of my job fresh for myself by changing my writing style to suit the project, the character or the artist.

With something like Batman R.I.P., I’m aiming for a frenzied Goth Pulp-Noir; punk-psych, expressionist shadows and jagged nightmare scene shifts, inspired by Batman’s roots and by the snapping, fluttering of his uncanny cape. Final Crisis was written, with the Norse Ragnarok and Biblical Revelations in mind, as a story about events more than characters. A doom-laden, Death Metal myth for the wonderful world of Fina(ncia)l Crisis/Eco-breakdown/Terror Trauma we all have to live in.

The subject matter drives the execution. And then, of course, the artists add their own vision and nuance. With All Star Superman, “Frank” and I were able to spend a lot of time together talking it through, and we agreed it had to be about grids, structure, storybook panel layouts, an elegance of form, a clarity of delivery. “Classical” in every sense of the word. The medium, the message, the story, the character, all working together as one simple equation.

Frank Quitely, a Glasgow Art School boy, completely understood without much explanation, the deep structural underpinnings of the series and how to embody them in his layouts. There’s a scene in issue # 8, set on the Bizarro world, where we see Le Roj handing Superman his rocket plans. Look at the arrangement of the figures of Zibarro, Le Roj, Superman and Bizaro–Superman and you’ll see one attempt to make us of Renaissance compositions.

The sense of sunlit Zen calm we tried to get into All Star is how I imagine it might feel to think the way Superman thinks all the time - a thought process that is direct, clean, precise, mathematical, ordered. A mind capable of fantastical imagination but grounded in the everyday of his farm upbringing with nice decent folks. Rich with humour and tears and deep human significance, yet tuned to a higher key. We tried to hum along for a little while, that’s all.

In honor of the character’s primal position in the development of the superhero narrative, I hoped we could create an “ultimate” hero story, starring the ultimate superhero.

Basically, I suppose I felt Superman deserved the utmost application of our craft and intelligence in order to truly do him justice.

Otherwise, I couldn’t have written this book if I hadn’t watched my big, brilliant dad decline into incoherence and death. I couldn’t have written it if I’d never had my heart broken, or mended. I couldn’t have written it if I hadn’t known what it felt like to be idolized, misunderstood, hated for no clear reason, loved for all my faults, forgotten, remembered...

Writing All Star Superman was, in retrospect, also a way of keeping my mind in the clean sunshine while plumbing the murkiest depths of the imagination with that old pair of c****s Darkseid and Doctor Hurt. Good riddance.

Newsarama: This is touched on in other questions, but how much of the Silver/Bronze Age backstory matters here? What do you see as Superman's life prior to All-Star Superman? (What was going on with this Superman while the Byrne revamp took hold?)

Grant Morrison: When I introduced the series in an interview online, I suggested that All Star Superman could be read as the adventures of the ‘original’ Pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths Superman, returning after 20 plus years of adventures we never got to see because we were watching John Byrne‘s New Superman on the other channel. If ‘Whatever Happened To The Man of Tomorrow?’ and the Byrne reboot had never happened, where would that guy be now?

This was more to provide a sense, probably limited and ill-considered, of what the tone of the book might be like. I never intended All Star Superman as a direct continuation of the Weisinger or Julius Schwartz-era Superman stories. The idea was always to create another new version of Superman using all my favorite elements of past stories, not something ‘Age’ specific.

I didn’t collect Superman comics until the ‘70s and I’m not interested enough in pastiche or nostalgia to spend 6 years of my life playing post-modern games with Superman. All Star isn’t written, drawn or colored to look or read like a Silver Age comic book.

All Star Superman is not intended as arch commentary on continuity or how trends in storytelling have changed over the decades. It’s not retro or meta or anything other than its own simple self; a piece of drawing and writing that is intended by its makers to capture the spirit of its subject to the best of their capabilities, wisdom and talent.

Which is to say, we wanted our Superman story be about life, not about comics or superheroes, current events or politics. It’s about how it feels, specifically to be a man...in our dreams! Hopefully that means our 12 issues are also capable of wide interpretation.

So as much as we may have used a few recognizable Silver Age elements like Van-Zee and Sylv(i)a and the Bottle City of Kandor, the ensemble Daily Planet cast embodies all the generations of Superman. Perry White is from 1940, Steve Lombard is from the Schwartz-era ‘70s, Ron Troupe - the only black man in Metropolis - appeared in 1991. Cat Grant is from 1987 and so on.

P.R.O.J.E.C.T. refers back to Jack Kirby’s DNA Project from his ‘70s Jimmy Olsen stories, as well as to The Cadmus Project from ’90s Superboy and Superman stories. Doomsday is ‘90s. Kal Kent, Solaris and the Infant Universe of Qwewq all come from my own work on Superman in the same decade. Pa Kent’s heart attack is from ‘Superman the Movie‘. We didn’t use Brainiac because he’d been the big bad in Earth 2 but if we had, we’d have used Brainiac’s Kryptonian origin from the animated series and so on.

I also used quite a few elements of John Byrne’s approach. Byrne made a lot of good decisions when he rebooted the whole franchise in 1986 and I wanted to incorporate as much as I could of those too.

Our Superman in All Star was never Superboy, for instance. All Star Superman landed on Earth as a normal, if slightly stronger and fitter infant, and only began to manifest powers in adolescence when he’d finally soaked up enough yellow solar radiation to trigger his metamorphosis.

The Byrne logic seemed to me a better way to explain how his powers had developed across the decades, from the skyscraper leaps of the early days to the speed-of-light space flight of the high Silver Age. And more importantly, it made the Superman myth more poignant - the story of a farm boy who turned into an alien as he reached adolescence. I felt that was something that really enriched Superman. He grew away from his home, his family, his adopted species as he became Superman. His teenage years are a record of his transformation from normal boy to super-being.

As you say, there are more than just Silver Age influences in the book. Basically we tried to create a perfect synthesis of every Superman era. So much so, that it should just be taken as representative of an ‘age’ all its own.

In the end, however, I do think that the Silver Age type stories, with their focus on human problems and foibles, have a much wider appeal than a lot of the work which followed. They’re more like fables or folk tales than the later ‘comic book superhero’ stories of Superman when he became just another colorful costume in the crowd...and perhaps that’s why All Star seemed to resemble those books more than it does a typical modern Marvel or DC comic. It was our intention to present a more universal, mainstream Superman.

NRAMA: In your depiction of Krypton and the Kryptonians, you show the complexity of Superman’s relationship between humanity and Earth even further. Krypton has that scientific paradise quality to it, but the Kryptonians are also portrayed as slightly aloof and detached, even Jor-El. But from Bar-El to the people of Kandor, they’re touched by Superman’s goodness. What do you see as the fundamental difference between Kryptonians and Earthlings, and how has Superman’s character been shaped by each?

GM: My version of Krypton was, again, synthesized from a number of different approaches over the decades.  In mythic terms, if Superman is the story of a young king, found and raised by common people, then Krypton is the far distant kingdom he lost. It’s the secret bloodline, the aristocratic heritage that makes him special, and a hero. At the same time, Krypton is something that must be left behind for Superman to become who he is - i.e. one of us. Krypton gives him his scientific clarity of mind, Earth makes his heart blaze.

I liked the very early Jerry Siegel descriptions where Krypton is a planet of advanced supermen and women (I already played with that a little in Marvel Boy where Noh-Varr was written to be the Marvel Superboy basically). To that, I added the rich, science fiction detailing of the Silver Age Krypton stories and the slightly detached coolness that characterized John Byrne’s Krypton, which I re-interpreted through the lens of Dzogchen Buddhist thought, probably the most pragmatic, chilly and rational philosophic system on the planet and the closest, I felt, to how Kryptonians might see things.

We also took some time to redesign the crazy, multicolored Kryptonian flag (you can see our version in Kandor in issue #10). The flag, as originally imagined, seemed like the last thing Kryptonians would endorse, so we took the multicolored-rays-around-a-circle design and recreated it - the central circle is now red, representing Krypton’s star, Rao, while the rays, rather than arbitrary colors, become representations of the spectrum of visible light pouring from Rao into the inky black of space. In this way, the flag, that bizarre emblem of nationalism becomes a scientific hieroglyph.

Showing Krypton and Kryptonians was also important as a way of stressing why Superman wears that costume and why it makes absolute sense that he looks the way he does. I don’t see the red and blue suit as a flag or as rewoven baby blankets. There’s no need for Superman to dress the way he does but it made sense to think of his outfit as his ‘national costume‘.

The way I see it, the standard superhero outfit, the familiar Superman suit with the pants on the outside, is what everyone wore on Krypton, give or take a few fashion accessories like hoods and headbands, chest crests and variant colors. In fact, all other superheroes are just copying the fashions on Krypton, lost planet of the super-people.

Superman wears his ’action-suit’ the way a patriotic Scotsman would wear a kilt. It’s a sign of his pride in his alien heritage.

Newsarama: Although All–Star Superman ties in with DC One Million, you style of writing has changed dramatically since then. How do you feel about One Million now?

Grant Morrison: I just read it again and liked it a lot. Comics were definitely happier, breezier and more confident in their own strengths before Hollywood and the Internet turned the business of writing superhero stories into the production of low budget storyboards or, worse, into conformist, fruitless attempts to impress or entertain a small group of people who appear to hate comics and their creators.

NRAMA: Obviously, this book is the most explicit SF–Christ story since Behold the Man, only...happy. Superman/Christ parallels have existed for decades, but this story makes it absolutely explicit, from laying his hands on the sick and dying to...well, most of issue #12. You’ve dealt with Christ themes before, particularly in The Mystery Play, but outside of the comics, how do you see Superman as a Christ figure for the “real” world?

GM: The “Superman as Christ” thing is a little too reductive for me, and tends to overlook the fact that Superman is by no means a pacifist in the Christ sense. Superman would never turn the other cheek; Superman punches out the bully. Superman is a fighter.

When did Christ ever batter the Devil through a mountain?

The thing I disliked about the Superman Returns movie was the American Christ angle, which reduced Superman to a sniveling, masochistic wreck, crawling around on the floor, taking a kicking from everyone. This approach had an odd and slightly disturbing S&M flavor, which didn’t play well to the character’s strengths at all and seemed to derive entirely from a kind of Catholic vision of the suffering, martyred Jesus.

It’s not that he’s based on Jesus, but simply that a lot of the mythical sun god elements that have been layered onto the Christ story also appear in the story of Superman. I suppose I see Superman more as pagan sci–fi. He’s a secular messiah, a science redeemer with tough guy muscles and a very direct and clear morality.

NRAMA: Continuing the religious themes, in issue #10, you have Superman literally giving birth to himself, both philosophically and as a character – a nice little meta–moment showing how Superman inspires a world where he is only fiction. How did that idea come about?

GM: It came from the challenge we’d set ourselves: as I said, issue #10 had been left as a blank space into which the single most coherent condensation of all our ideas about Superman were destined to fit.

I wanted to do a “day in the life” story. So much of All Star had been about this threat to Superman himself, so we wanted to show him going about a typical day saving people and doing good.

Then came the title “Neverending,” which comes from the opening announcement – “Faster than a speeding bullet!...” of the Superman radio show from 1940, and seemed to me to be as good a title for a Superman story as any I could think of. It seemed to distil everything about Superman’s battle and his legend into a single word. And the story structure itself was designed to loop endlessly, so it went well with that.

On top of that went the idea of the Last Will and Testament of Superman. A dying god writing his will seemed like an interesting structure to use. Then came the idea to fit all of human history into that single 24 hours. And then to show the development of the Superman idea through human culture from the earliest Australian Aboriginal notions of super–beings ‘descended” from the sky, through the complex philosophical system of Hinduism, onto the Renaissance concept of the ideal man, via the refinements of Nietzche and finally, down to that smiling, hopeful Joe Shuster sketch; the final embodiment of humanity’s glorious, uplifting notion of the superman become reduced to a drawing, a story for kids, a worthless comic book.

And also what that could mean in a holographic fractal universe, where the smallest part contains and reflects the whole.

Of course the next panel in that sequence is happening in the real world and would show you, the reader, sitting with the latest Superman issue in your hands, deep within the Infant Universe of Qwewq in the Fortress of Solitude, today, wherever you are. In “Neverending,” the reader becomes wrapped in a self–referential loop of story and reality. If you actually, seriously think about what is happening at this point in the story, if you meditate upon the curious entanglement of the real and the fictional, you will become enlightened in this life apparently. According to some texts.

NRAMA: On a personal level, you’ve explored all types of religions and philosophies in your work. What is your take on religion and how it influences humanity, and the Christian take on Jesus Christ in particular?

GM: I think religion per se, is a ghastly blight on the progress of the human species towards the stars. At the same time, it, or something like it, has been an undeniable source of comfort, meaning and hope for the majority of poor bastards who have ever lived on Earth, so I’m not trying to write it off completely. I just wish that more people were educated to a standard where they could understand what religion is and how it works. Yes, it got us through the night for a while, but ultimately, it’s one of those ugly, stupid arse–over–backwards things we could probably do without now, here on the Planet of the Apes.

Religion is to spirituality what porn is to sex. It’s what the Hollywood 3–act story template is to real creative writing.

Religion creates a structure which places “special,” privileged people (priests) between ordinary people and the divine, as if there could even be any separation: as if every moment, every thought, every action was not already an expression of dynamic ‘divinity” at work.

As I’ve said before, the solid world is just the part of heaven we’re privileged to touch and play with. You don’t need a priest or a holy man to talk to “god” on your behalf: just close your eyes and say hello. “God” is no more, no less, than the sum total of all matter, all energy, all consciousness, as experienced or conceptualized from a timeless perspective where everything ever seems to present all at once. “God” is in everything, all the time and can be found there by looking carefully. The entire universe, including the scary, evil bits, is a thought “God” is thinking, right now.

As far as I can figure it out from my own reading and my own experience of how the spiritual world works, Jesus was, as they say, way cool: a man who achieved a state of consciousness, which nowadays would get him a diagnosis of temporal lobe epilepsy (in the days of the Emperor Tiberius, he was crucified for his ideas, today he’d be laughed at, mocked or medicated).

This “holistic” mode of consciousness (which Luthor experiences briefly at the end of All Star Superman) announces itself as a heartbreaking connection, a oneness, with everything that exists...but you don’t have to be Superman to know what that feeling is like. There are a ton of meditation techniques which can take you to this place. I don’t see it as anything supernatural or religious, in fact, I think it’s nothing more than a developmental level of human consciousness, like the ability to see perspective – which children of 4 cannot do but children of 6 can.

Everyone who’s familiar with this upgrade will tell you the same thing: it feels as if “alien” or “angelic” voices – far more intelligent, coherent and kindly than the voices you normally hear in your head – are explaining the structure of time and space and your place in it.  This identification with a timeless supermind containing and resolving within itself all possible thoughts and contradictions, is what many people, unsurprisingly, mistake for an encounter with “God.” However, given that this totality must logically include and resolve all possible thoughts and concepts, it can also be interpreted as an actual encounter with God, so I’m not here to give anyone a hard time over interpretation.

Some people have the experience and believe the God of their particular culture has chosen them personally to have a chat with. These people may become born–again Christians, fundamentalist Muslims, devotees of Shiva, or misunderstood lunatics. Some “contactees” interpret the voices they hear erroneously as communications from an otherworldly, alien intelligence, hence the proliferation of “abduction” accounts in recent decades, which share most of their basic details with similar accounts, from earlier centuries, of people being taken away by “fairies” or “little people”.

Some, who like to describe themselves as magicians, will recognize the “alien” voice as the “Holy Guardian Angel”.

In timeless, spaceless consciousness, the singular human mind blurs into a direct experience of the totality of all consciousness that has ever been or will ever be. It feels like talking with God but I see that as an aspect of science, not religion.

As Peter Barnes wrote in “The Ruling Class”, “I know I must be God because when I pray to Him, I find I’m talking to myself.”

Newsarama: When we spoke earlier this year, you talked about some of your ideas for future All Star stories. Are you moving forward on those, or have you started working on different ideas since then?

Grant Morrison: I haven’t had time to think about them for a while. I did have the stories worked out, and I’d like to do more, but right now it feels like Frank and Jamie and I have said all there is to be said. I don’t know if I’m ready to do All Star Superman with anyone else right now. I have other plans.

NRAMA: You end the book with Superman having uplifted humanity – having inspired them through his sacrifice and great deeds, and with the potential to pass his powers on to humanity still there. Do you plan to explore this concept further, or would you prefer to leave it open–ended?

GM: I may go back to the Son of Superman in some way. At the same time, it’s best left open–ended. I like the idea that Superman gets to have his cake and eat it; he becomes golden and mythical and lives forever as a dream. Yet, he also is able to sire a child who will carry his legacy into the future. He kicks ass in both the spiritual and the temporal spheres!

NRAMA: The notion of transcendence – always a big part of your work. But the debate about All Star Superman is whether or not it "transcends its genre." Superman becomes transcendent within the series itself, and inspires the beings on Qwewq, but does the work aspire to more than that? Is it simply the greatest version of a Superman story, and that’s enough?

GM: That would certainly be enough if it were true.

It’s a pretty high–level attempt by some smart people to do the Superman concept some justice, is all I can say. It’s intended to work as a set of sci–fi fables that can be read by children and adults alike. I’d like to think you can go to it if you’re feeling suicidal, if you miss your dad, if you’ve had to take care of a difficult, ailing relative, if you’ve ever lost control and needed a good friend to put you straight, if you love your pets, if you wish your partner could see the real you...All Star is about how Superman deals with all of that.

It’s a big old Paul Bunyan style mythologizing of human - and in particular male - experience. In that sense I’d like to think All Star Superman does transcend genre in that it’s intended to be read on its own terms and needs absolutely no understanding of genre conventions or history around it to grasp what’s going on.

In today’s world, in today’s media climate designed to foster the fear our leaders like us to feel because it makes us easier to push around. In a world where limp, wimpy men are forced to talk tough and act ‘badass’ even though we all know they’re shitting it inside. In a world where the measure of our moral strength has come to lie in the extremity of the images we’re able to look at and stomach. In a world, I’m reliably told, that’s going to the dogs, the real mischief, the real punk rock rebellion, is a snarling, ‘fuck you’ positivity and optimism. Violent optimism in the face of all evidence to the contrary is the Alpha form of outrage these days. It really freaks people out.

I have a desire not to see my culture and my fellow human beings fall helplessly into step with a middle class media narrative that promises only planetary catastrophe, as engineered by an intrinsically evil and corrupt species which, in fact, deserves everything it gets.

Is this relentless, downbeat insistence that the future has been cancelled really the best we can come up with? Are we so fucked up we get off on terrifying our children? It’s not funny or ironic anymore and that’s why we wrote All Star Superman the way we did. Everything has changed. ‘Dark’ entertainment now looks like hysterical, adolescent, ‘Zibarro’ crap. That’s what my Final Crisis series is about too.

NRAMA (aka Tim Callahan): Continuing with the theme of transcendence: The words "ineffectual" and "surrender" are repeated throughout the book. Discuss.

GM: Discuss yourself, Callahan! I know you have the facilities and I should think it’s all rather obvious.  

NRAMA: What was the inspiration for the image of Superman in the sun at the end? (I confess this question comes as the result of much unsuccessful Googling)

GM: I didn’t have any specific reference in mind - just that one we‘ve all sort of got in our heads. I drew the figure as a sketch, intended to be reminiscent of William Blake’s cosmic figures, Russian Constructivist Soviet Socialist Worker type posters, and Leonardo’s ‘Proportions of the Human Figure‘. The position of the legs hints at the Buddhist swastika, the clockwise sun symbol. It was to me, the essence of that working class superheroic ideal I mentioned, condensed into a final image of mythic Superman, - our eternal, internal, guiding, selfless, tireless, loving superstar. The daft All Star Superman title of the comic is literalized in this last picture. It’s the ‘fearful symmetry’ of the Enlightenment project - an image of genius, toil, and our need to make things, to fashion art and artifacts, as a form of superhuman, divine imitation.

It was Superman as this fusion of Renaissance/Enlightenment ideas about Man and Cosmos, an impossible union of Blake and Newton. A Pop Art ‘Vitruvian Man‘. The inspiration for the first letter of the new future alphabet!

As you can see, we spent a lot of time thinking about all this and purifying it down to our own version of the gold. I’m glad it’s over.

NRAMA: Finally: What, above all else, would you like people to take away from All Star Superman?

GM: That we spent a lot of time thinking about this!

No. What I hope is that people take from it the unlikelihood that a piece of paper, with little ink drawings of figures, with little written words, can make you cry, can make your heart soar, can make you scared, sad, or thrilled. How mental is that?

That piece of paper is inert material, the corpse of some tree, pulped and poured, then given new meaning and new life when the real hours and real emotions that the writer and the artist, the colorist, the letter the editor translated onto the physical page, meet with the real hours and emotions of a reader, of all readers at once, across time, generations and distance.

And think about how that experience, the simple experience of interacting with a paper comic book, along with hundreds of thousands of others across time and space, is an actual doorway onto the beating heart of the imminent, timeless world of “Myth” as defined above. Not just a drawing of it but an actual doorway into timelessness and the immortal world where we are all one together.

My grief over the loss of my dad can be Superman’s grief, can trigger your own grief, for your own dad, for all our dads. The timeless grief that’s felt by Muslims and Christians and Agnostics alike. My personal moments of great and romantic love, untainted by the everyday, can become Superman’s and may resonate with your own experience of these simple human feelings.

In the one Mythic moment we’re all united, kissing our Lover for the First time, the Last time, the Only time, honoring our dear Dad under a blood red sky, against a darkening backdrop, with Mum telling us it’ll all be okay in the end.

If we were able to capture even a hint of that place and share it with our readers, that would be good enough for me.

#All Star Superman #Grant Morrison #Superman

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gothamcityneedsme · 3 years

Photo

I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :) I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever. How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc. I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay. It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love. It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line. This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game. (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story: Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out. There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals. There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at. The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay. You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating. The colors are bright and beautiful. There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special. The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places. I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well. Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol. Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’. I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time. I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters. It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics. It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked: Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience. The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way. I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly. Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that. It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc. This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time. It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics. This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated: Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really. I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others. The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it. The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it. There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played. That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game. I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices. They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky. Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful. Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol. His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male: Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2. He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply. I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for. He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female: Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group. Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well. I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol. KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it. It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work. Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience. For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”. Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world. There is no game lonelier than this. I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will. I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey. I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village: Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me. I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt. I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames. Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character: Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so. I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game. I had a much better experience for it, honestly. She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her. I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh. It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid. I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game. I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot. Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA. I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises. It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game: The Path - God, I love this game. It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it. Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature. Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move. It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely. It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet. There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game. There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it. It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy. As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes. It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially. I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.

#shitpost #long post #this was fun to do #i made it so every answer was a different video game and i tried to mix up my companies as well #got 3 atlus games on here but mer #2 obsidon #llol #2 sierra too haha but still #beginner's guide and tsp were made by the same guy too but #STILL I LIMITED MYSELF OK #these answers aren't absolute because i was trying to have a good diverse list lol

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vg-sanctuary · 3 years

Text

The World Ends with You

Jupiter - DS - 2008

[screenshots from Nintendo Life, jack-reviews.com, and LPArchive; please excuse the low res, I couldn’t find better ones]

TWEWY is an RPG with modern (circa 2008) style and character designs by Tetsuya Nomura, the director of Kingdom Hearts. I meant to write about it the day its sequel NEO: TWEWY came out but missed that by a few days. anyway, I think it's reasonable to call this game the epitome of the Nintendo DS. it has every feature to be expected of any game on the wildly unique handheld: a touch-based minigame with wireless multiplayer and little bearing on the main game, a sleep mode puzzle, touch controls, forced use of both screens, and gameplay and plot designed to be enjoyed in short bursts. it's loaded with cool ideas, some of which are more than questionable, even barring the crazy DS features, hence the remakes. (savvy readers will notice I left out the iOS and Switch platforms and, while there are remakes of the game for both platforms that have extra content and a more elegant combat system, they don't hit quite like the DS original.)

I don't fancy myself an RPG fan for the most part. the usual high fantasy themes and turn based combat are boring to me. usually, if an RPG has either one I'm not interested, and this has neither of those. I decided to try TWEWY while collecting DS games, and the plot and combat had grabbed me within two hours. I haven't mentioned the awesome music and visuals, both wonderfully stylish and unique in the same way Persona's UI is stylish and unique, only this game uses the style on its game world and characters instead of menus.

the premise is the antisocial protagonist, Neku, wakes up in a killing game wherein each day has a mission that he and his partner either complete or face erasure. after a week of these missions he'll be free. I can’t tell you the massive general plot spoiler that makes the whole thing so compelling as it goes on, so this section of the post is sadly pretty short. there is an anime that goes over the main events, but it's only four hours long compared to the game's 20, character development is sometimes lacking in detail or totally inaccurate, and it generally doesn't include the hardships you would go through as a player e.g. having to try a boss five times.

almost everything about TWEWY's gameplay is intriguing, so I'll try to be concise. combat is a strange beast that comes from developer Jupiter's need to use both screens to the fullest. by the way, don't let this wall of text scare you away from the game; it introduces these mechanics much slower and it's easier to understand and use. the bottom screen is gesture-based ARPG combat where, for example, short swipes over an enemy makes Neku use a sword attack or touching somewhere on the screen makes him fire a bullet. the exact gestures and attacks are determined by what pins he's wearing. the top screen asks you to use the d-pad to attack with Neku’s partner and navigate along a tree of cards where getting the right card grants a star; enough of those allows you to use a powerful and health-restoring fusion attack. there's this green light puck that passes between characters when the one holding it does a finisher and multiplies the finisher's damage with each successful pass up to five times, but disappears if held by one character for too long. fortunately the game has an auto mode for the top screen that's roughly equivalent to mashing left or right on the d-pad so you don't have to try to split your brain between both, but you get a little more experience if that's turned off. I love the bottom screen and the idea of the top screen but could never really get my head around doing both at once. maybe the intent was to focus on the character that has the puck and leave the other standing still or spamming defense? (in NEO: TWEWY, the light puck mechanic was changed to beat drop combos, where using a different character to attack shortly after a finisher gives you some charge for a super. no attention splitting, just fun ARPG combat with an interesting combo system that can inform what pins you use.)

turning up the game's difficulty makes enemies stronger and mostly drops different pins. there aren't random encounters: you have to scan for enemies and mostly get to choose which encounters to take. you can choose to fight multiple in a row without getting health back between them and multiply your drop rate multiplier, with enemies getting stronger the more encounters you take. you get your health back when you return to the overworld, which cuts out a lot of the obligatory spending for healing items and the trouble of running out for the player. there are still some pins that can heal you during a battle, though.

leveling up, instead of arbitrarily increasing every stat, only increases your HP, but you can turn your level down to lower your HP and multiply the drop rate of pins by one for each level. other stats can be increased with clothes or food, with different foods permanently increasing different stats and have different calories. each character can only eat so much in a single real time day, which is wack but still interesting. the food system in NEO is similar except without the per-day limit, and I think it's a great idea that gives the player agency in terms of what stats they want to increase and whether they want larger or smaller boosts.

pins can evolve when leveled up enough, but may only evolve if you give them the right kind of pin points, which is like experience for pins. there's PP from battles, from the game's proto-StreetPass mingle mode (that you could only get randomly roughly every hour, from other folks in TWEWY's mingle mode, or from other DSes running any wireless software; thankfully this is removed from the remakes but it's a neat idea), and from turning off the game for up to seven real time days. if a pin reaches max level with the wrong kind of PP, you have to go get another one to evolve it, but I don't think there are any super rare pins that evolve. the game doesn't show what kind of PP you need to evolve a pin, so while it's a cool idea, there's a fair chance that you'll miss lots of evolutions and not even notice.

there are lots of rare pins that can be worn as a set to do something ridiculously powerful, but you have to go out of your way to get them, like the Darklit Planets. it's a set of seven pins that are useful alone, but if worn all together they become three times more powerful. they all drop rarely from bosses on the highest difficulty. I love wacky, mystical, obscenely powerful postgame stuff like this but can't be bothered to actually go and get it. some games give you their best weapons last, which is always a shame because there's nothing to use it on, but in TWEWY, there's a boss rush that saves your best time and lots of bosses to re-fight for their rare pins, so you'll have a reason to fight bosses until you've got every one of those rare pins.

speaking of postgame, TWEWY's is rather extensive, with a bonus day focused on the Tin Pin Slammer minigame and goofy non-canon alternate personalities plus four sort of tedious missions for every ingame day that unlock secret reports for much more lore about the Reapers' Game. (one of the missions for every day is "find and destroy the pig Noise," which mostly have puzzle-ish fights; one is killed by closing the DS and opening it again, which is the sleep mode puzzle I mentioned.) if you get them all, it unlocks a special scene in the ending, but again, I can't be bothered to do that kind of postgame. not all of it, anyway, the bonus day's missions are too tedious for me.

in Tin Pin Slammer, the minigame with almost no bearing on the main game, you use your pins to play kinda-sorta Beyblade. every pin has different stats, many of which are hidden, and different amounts of the different weapons to stun your opponents' pins with. it's a rather extensive side mode and a totally unnecessary inclusion, but really fun anyway, and can be played wirelessly with others. there are some other mechanics that are also interesting but not quite worth adding any more words to this ridiculously long post, including a brand trends system and an interesting way to limit running from fights.

even with all of these words and some pictures, I seriously can't offer a glimpse of the vibes, the combat, the music, the story, the characters, the entire energy of The World Ends with You in a blog post, and in my opinion, it's not the same without the crispy DS sprites or peculiar dual screen combat. if you like the DS, 2000s energy, or action RPGs, this is an essential addition to your library if you don't want to track down a DS copy or you prefer more elegant combat, try one of the remakes instead. you're this far into the blog post, so I'm sure you won't be disappointed. (NEO: TWEWY is very good too and has a free demo on PS4 and Switch; while not the same, it's still worth trying. it carries a modernized audiovisual energy of its predecessor, more elegant combat improvements to other TWEWY systems.)

#twewy #the world ends with you #ds #nintendo ds #nds #retro gaming #my writing

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 4 years

Text

only angel - roman godfrey

roman godfrey x reader

title from the harry styles song of the same name

disclaimer: i’m not trying to distract from what’s going on by posting my work. that would never be my intent. times are trying, and i’m simply trying to provide some sort of entertainment or something to do with your time. i’m not fishing for any praise of any kind, i’m just putting my work out like i usually do. i love you all and please stay safe.

notes: in other news, if you haven’t noticed, i have a posting schedule now. it used to be every friday somewhere around midday, but that wasn’t really doing much with the algorithm, so i changed it to midday thursday. and i’ll be taking a week off next week bc i’m getting my wisdom teeth removed then. (which i’m incredibly anxious about) so if i go awol for a little while, that’s why.

also, i have almost no knowledge of alcohol! and i don’t drink! so if i don’t have some commonly known drink or bartender knowledge, please forgive me.

***********

“i’ll take an old fashioned, please.” a woman asked politely, flashing her pearly whites.

“one apple martini with no olive,” a man requested.

“can i get a scotch on the rocks?” a man with a gruff voice asked.

you were new to this job, but you had a bit of experience, both on the bartender end and the bar attender end. you quite liked this job; the customers were fairly friendly, and you were in a much less seedy part of town than the last dive bar you worked at. you didn’t mind it, though, it gave you your thick skin, something you need in a profession like this.

you also liked this job better because you weren’t alone. this joint in particular had more bar space than seating space, so they commissioned two bartenders to work instead of just the one. the first few days you were a little rusty, not having worked in a while, but the two of you quickly got into the swing of things.

his name was roman godfrey, heir to the godfrey fortune, who had a much different story on how he became a bartender. coming from such a wealthy family, he of course inherited the highest position at godfrey tower, which he quickly realized was way too much work for him to handle. roman had transformed from a spoiled rich brat to someone who had more respect for people who actually had to work to keep themselves afloat, and you’d say it changed him for the better.

somewhere along the line he’d developed a respect for women, too, probably coming from some prior bartending experience. you admired him for that, mostly because you’d hate to work with the man he used to be.

another reason you enjoyed working with him so much was the fact that his name was so well known across the entire state of pennsylvania that nobody really liked to fuck with him. they’d much rather stay on his peaceful side, because some, more than others, had seen his aggravated side before and were not too terribly inclined to see it again. this came in handy for you when a situation similar to tonight’s had arose.

it was a stormy night, much like many spring evenings. the bar was packed tighter than usual since it was raining much too hard for anyone to leave. it was nearing last call, and you and roman were trying to close up, much to the dismay of the customers. as you were starting to stack some glasses, a greasy older man sauntered up to the bar, plopping right down on the barstool you’d just cleaned.

“i’ll take a gin and tonic, and make it snappy, i’ve gotta get home,” the man demanded, tone devoid of any politeness. “and it’d do you some good to button that up a few more times.” he gestured to your uniform that had the first couple buttons undone to show some cleavage.

“excuse me?” you stammered, flabbergasted at his frankness. you paused what you were doing, frozen in shock.

“you heard me. now make me that drink, bitch, or i’ll climb over this fucking bar and make it myself.” the man insisted.

“you have no right to say that to me.” you defended. “this is my uniform, and if it makes me more comfortable to unbutton it, then i will. i don’t need input from people like you, and you certainly don’t deserve a drink for acting like that. we’re closing anyway, it’s too late.”

you’d handled customers like this before, but they tended to be much less blatant about their sexism and disrespect than this man was. you had started drying the glasses and putting them away at a much faster pace just to get this insistent man off your ass.

“come on, no ones over here, what’s it gotta take for a guy to get a drink?” the man’s inebriation became much more obvious now as he grabbed your forearm as you reached for another glass.

“let go of me!” you shrieked, much louder than you intended. this caught the attention of quite a few other customers and, of course, roman, who quickly made his way over to you.

“exactly what the fuck do you think you’re doing here, huh?” he growled, setting his piercing gaze on the man, who quickly unhanded you.

“i asked her very kindly if she would please make me a drink, and she said no.” he swallowed nervously, the mere presence and power seeping off of roman intimidating him.

“it didn’t sound very kind to me, man. i didn’t hear any fucking ‘please and thank you’s over here.” roman replied, trying to keep his calm with the man that he wanted to hypnotize into slamming his head on the bar.

the man stayed silent, his cocky asshole persona fading into fear at the hands of mr godfrey. roman nodded at his compliance and subtly placed a hand on top of yours on the glass you were holding.

“alright sir, if you would please kindly,” he put a strong emphasis on the word. “stop bothering my friend, get the fuck out of our bar, and head the fuck home, it would be much appreciated.”

as if entranced, the man pulled his jacket back up on his shoulders, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking straight into the rainstorm.

roman looked down at you and smiled his signature grin. usually that’d have your heart melting like a popsicle on a hot summer day, but you weren’t in the mood for it. the scowl on your face told him everything he needed to know.

“why the face? what did i do?” he asked genuinely. he had learned not to skip straight to defending his actions, finding that asking what his mistake was and how to fix it was a method much more popular with the ladies.

“you should’ve let me handle that myself.” you frowned, unhappy with the situation at hand.

“what? why would i do that?” he asked incredulously. “i’m not just gonna stand by and watch that cretin of a man treat you like that!”

“i know, and i thank you for that. your heart was in the right place, but you shouldn’t have stepped in.” you began. “for the longest time, almost every profession has been male-dominated, so us women get the short end of the stick when it comes to how we’re treated in the workplace.

“men have some sort of hero complex, thinking they can insert themselves into a situation they had nothing to do with and earn praise and thanks for their help that wasn’t asked for. men think that they can start confrontations with us and expect us to be silent and complient, to just sit there and take it because we’re not going to stand up for ourselves.” you watched the expression on his face morph to one of interest. “it was my situation, my job to deal with it, and my job to handle the repercussions, should there be any.

“men are accustomed to getting whatever they want, whenever they want it, and that’s got to change, and it starts with small things. small things like me, reprimanding that man for his actions and the way he spoke to me.” you took a breath. “i’m glad you recognized something was happening, but you should’ve only stepped in had things gotten more violent.”

roman looked stunned, almost like he’d gotten a slap across the face. you shouldn’t be surprised, this was usually the reaction you got from men when you tried to educate them on the trials and tribulations of women, but something was different. rather than shocked and confused as to why you would think that, he seemed more understanding of your struggles. sympathetic, even.

he stood still for a moment, as if he was a sponge absorbing all the information you’d dumped on him. “wow, i had no idea there was so much behind that. thank you for letting me know.”

“can i..?” his question trailed off as he leaned down towards you, lips meeting yours. you melted into his embrace, the weeks of yearning for this exact moment finally catching up to you. he started to pull away, but you stood on your tiptoes and chased his lips. you both pulled away breathlessly, lips wet and pink.

“wow, that was,” the rest of your thoughts fell short, but as you looked at roman it was apparent he had the same idea, whatever that may be.

“can i walk you home?” he asked, gathering his things. you nodded up to him, smiling sheepishly as he gently placed your jacket on your shoulders.

the two of you managed to close the bar for the night and fortunately, the rain had died down enough for you to head home. roman held his umbrella above both of you as you curled into his side to escape the cold chill of the rain.

he dropped you off at your place, turning to leave before you spun him around. you hopped up the first two steps and leaned down to kiss him again, easier this time since you were at his level. he smiled against you and kissed back fervently, placing a hand on the area between your neck and shoulder for some leverage.

you said your goodbyes, heading into your house, still feeling the tingling sensation where his hand was as you smiled giddily.

**********

ignore the ending i cant write endings it’s a problem

the feminist jumped out a bit sorry not sorry

i wrote almost all of this last night bc inspiration suddenly struck and i had to take advantage of it and this turned out waayyy longer than intended oopsie

tags: @emmyrosee @jadelynlace @copper-boom @babyboy-cody @goblincxnt @hecohansen31 @skrsgardspam @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass @little-grunge-flowerz @manicpixiedreamguurl

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey oneshot #roman godfrey fic #roman godfrey fanfic #roman godfrey fanfiction #roman godfrey hemlock grove #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård character #my writing

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illprotectyou-hearteyes · 4 years

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@rochc93 I’m also answering the Ethan one but the Meredith post got so long adsfgdfsdf so I’m answering in a separate post.

Ethan Hunt:

Why I like them

He’s suffered so much and been betrayed so often that it would almost be hard to blame him if he had turned cynical and cruel but he didn’t. Even knowing on the deepest emotional level that a good outcome isn’t guaranteed no matter how hard he tries and that opening himself to love also means opening himself to pain, he chooses kindness and hope and love over and again and again

Why I don’t

This doesn’t make me like him less, but Ethan is so desperate to save everyone else that somewhere along the way he seems to have stopped factoring his own wellbeing into the equation at all. And if there’s a selfish bone in his body it’s that he's so deep in his panicked determination to protect himself from the pain and guilt of loss that it doesn’t seem to have registered that losing him would hurt his loved ones as much as losing them would hurt him.

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Oh gosh ummm ... this changes day to day but I think at the moment it’s Ethan waking up to Benji after the torus

Favorite season/movie

I mean for me it has to be Rogue Nation or Fallout, but we never would have gotten those without every one of the films that came before (yes, even MI2) and I love them all

Favorite line

“Zero kill count” from MI1. I’m almost certainly being dramatic, but I always find myself wondering if Ethan would have become who he is without that line guiding the writing of his character throughout the franchise.

Favorite outfit

They ... they’re almost all black ... I’m sorry I know I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time looking at this character but I truly cannot distinguish his outfits in my mind.

EDIT: Can I say the grey suit-vest from MI7 set images? That one is good I like it.

OTP

Okay so I have to say Ethan/Benji, but a part of me is happily convinced that Ethan and Luther have been quietly married since sometime after he and Julia separated. It’s not a secret, but it happened during a mission and there were more pressing things to talk about, and by now it’s become a standing game of “how long will it take our Actual Spy Friends to notice”

As an extension of the above I really like the idea of Luther/Ethan/Benji. Also Ethan and Julia love each other so fucking much and nothing will ever take that away.

Brotp

I’m intentionally not saying one of the characters from the ask above in order to get to more of them, so I have to say Ethan & Ilsa—I think their dynamic is really fascinating and I’m really hoping MI 7 & 8 develop it further. I also really love Ethan & Jane’s relationship, though.

Head Canon

Ethan likes to read in his (concerningly sparse) free time. It’s useful enough for keeping one’s brain active and understanding/engaging with the world that it slips past the persistent guilt that’s always insisting he ought to be doing something useful, while at the same time it allows him to escape into lives entirely different than the one he feels trapped in. Usually fiction, but nothing that revolves around violence; a too-familiar detail in even the most unrealistic war story or spy thriller can make it abruptly hard to breathe. Instead he gravitates to those rare sci fi and fantasy books that don’t have some sort of violent conflict at their core, and equally to stories about everyday sorts of people—to him, those too bear the sheen of fantasy.

Unpopular opinion

Not only am I ready to go to bat for Ethan as a complex 3-dimensional character, I would argue that Ethan’s characterization in MI2 (for all of its cartoonishness and the fact that I don’t necessarily think this was the intention) can be read as coherent stage of his character progression. Basically, I see Ethan in the beginning as having responded to the trauma of MI1 by attempting to shut himself off from emotion and connection and trust, hence the whole cool bad boy persona (which unfortunately for him he very bad at, seeing how he is not, in fact, cool), and his arc in the film is him making the decision that defines him through the rest of the franchise: to lean into love and protect what is good, in defiance of the pain it makes him vulnerable to.

A wish

I just ... I just want him somehow to get out of the IMF and let himself be out and to have the peace and happiness he fights so hard to protect for others but seems to have given up on for himself. I don’t know how this could happen but I want it so bad

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

His life is a mess that so I’ve gotta lower my hopes here. As long as he doesn’t die or lose Benji, Luther, or Julia (and preferably not anyone else he’s cares about either, but again, low standards), I can deal with it.

Oh also if there wasn’t a forced romance with Ilsa that would be lovely.

5 words to best describe them

loving, kind, determined, loyal, disaster

My nickname for them

This ask game is making me wonder if I actually have a nickname for any character. I’m not sure I do

#ethan hunt #mission impossible #i love him ...#the mere fact that 'loving' and 'kind' were the first words that came to mind #to describe the lead in an *action franchise*#reminded me why all over again #also regarding ethan reading #i've decided he read and cried over #watchmaker of filigree street and the sequal #mostly because i just read and loved them #but also because i think he'd really relate to Mori #they're not that similar in personality #(if anything i'd say Ethan is more like Thaniel)#but i think he'd very much relate #to the ways Mori tries to shoulder the responsibility of knowing #he can substantially affect the world #and the guilt of never feeling as if he is doing enough #or doing it right

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dragonstoravens · 4 years

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Trinity: First Appearance

Since I haven’t posted many longer excerpts from Rebel Blue, I thought I’d post this short story introducing my boy Trinity and his complicated relationship with the crew of Rebel Blue-- specifically Periwinkle.

A bit of background-- Trinity was originally intended to be a one-off or minor character, and actually started off as a sort of pseudo-villain, working for Fate (the series’ main villain.) This is the first piece I wrote for him, edited and updated to fit his character now.

Trinity now features in Babylon, a several-novels-length offshoot of Rebel Blue’s main story written by myself and @charlottedotexe. His eventual slow-burn romance with Azure was a total surprise, and has lead to me developing this one-off villain into someone I really love! While Trinity still takes some time to be a truly good person, he was always meant to draw the line somewhere, and I think this piece illustrates that really well.

READ ON WATTPAD HERE!

“So… I guess I’ve just seen her around here a couple of times, and I wanted to let her know that I… even exist?” Trinity chuckled self deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed look on his face. Felicia cooed and wiggled around slightly from her position on his lap, reaching up to pinch his cheek.

“Awww, look at little Ty growing up. You’ve been coming here for years, and a pretty girl finally caught your eye? I’m almost jealous.” She giggled as he playfully smacked her hand away. “Tell me about her, then.”

“Well…” Trinity paused, casting his thoughts back to the woman he’d seen in the security footage. He had, in fact, seen her here at Absolute Zero before, but never close enough to describe. All he knew about her was that she usually sat up near the front, always by herself, or chatting with the bartender or even the owner rather than other patrons. Still, the auburn hair and striking height were hard to forget, and really the only reasons he’d recognized her on that recording. The fact she knew the workers here was good, but she was so often alone. It worried him, if he was being honest. Anyone in his position knew loners were the easiest targets. But Felicia was still waiting for him to answer. He let his eyes go a bit far away and misty as he leaned back in the plush booth, a lovestruck smile coloring his face. “She’s real tall. And pretty. Her hair’s long and wavy, it’s… brown? Maybe red. She always dresses so nice. She sounds like maybe she’s British, or from one of their colony planets. I’ve seen her a couple times, but… I never worked up the courage to buy her a drink.”

Beneath his field of vision, Felicia’s eyes narrowed for just a moment. Only a moment, though, and then she returned to her teasing smile, eyes flashing mischievously. “Sounds like someone’s smitten. Why don’t you go talk to her yourself, lover boy? Put that pretty face to good use. If she says no to that, she clearly doesn’t deserve you.” She leaned into him, adding a bit of real encouragement into her tone and ignoring the urge to mix pronouns and risk tipping Ty off that she knew his target as more than just another patron. She wanted his guard down, for one thing, and on the off chance he was telling the truth, maybe she could get him to prove it and actually talk to her in person. But he shook his head, and despite that bashful look on his face as he did it, Felicia’s suspicions were back full force.

“Nah, I can’t do that. What if she’d rather be alone? I don’t wanna force her into anything. I was thinking you girls could get her a note, buy her a drink on me next time she comes in? The ball’s in her court that way.” He shrugs. “If she ignores it, at least I tried, huh?”

As if anyone could force that person into anything. That alone proved he was lying… or that he honestly knew nothing about the person of which he spoke. But there was protocol to follow here, and Felicia was a professional before all else. Sure, Ty had never been anything but respectful and sweet, but almost everyone working here had learned the hard way that sweet things hid poison better than sour.

“Such a dear.” She ruffled his hair, and slid languidly off his lap, trailing her fingers down his neck and shoulder as she pulled away. “Alright, but you know I’ll tell the other girls. Your reputation as a hot-shot lady killer is in danger.” Her voice remained light and flirty, but the warning was real. Unless he changed his tune now, this was going straight to the top.

Trinity laughed, waving a hand at her. “Ah, go ahead. You all call me ‘little Ty’ anyway, it’s not like my reputation here was tough-as-nails in the first place.” Unconsciously, he rubbed a hand along his thigh, feeling for the tiny cybernetic attachment he already knew was there. He’d been around the block enough to know what this bar really was, and to notice that subtle warning from Felicia. That little note of his wouldn’t be staying secret for long, and they both knew it. In an establishment like this, information trade always passed through the top of the pyramid before being sent along to its target. He didn’t know much about the manager here, but he did know it was dangerous to pass information this way, especially in his position. Who knew what his boss would do to him if he found out about this interference. Still, Trinity couldn’t let this slide. He had to warn that poor woman, without doing anything to actively help her. This was the best chance he had.

Felicia giggled, using the charade to cover a disappointed sigh. Well, his loss. “You could at least pretend to be upset. You’re abandoning us for romance, Etta’s gonna be crushed.” She gave him one of her patented cute pouts, to which he responded with a good natured eye roll. “Well, I’m gonna go see some customers that aren’t too distracted by their mystery girl to appreciate me. You know where to send that note of yours, yeah?”

“Course I do. Thanks, ‘Licia.” Trinity’s eyes trailed her as she made her way back up to the bar. When she disappeared through a door behind the counter, he leaned forward in his booth, pulling the displaced table back towards him and resting his elbows on it. He let the casual, goofy persona of “Ty” slip away, face turning serious as he considered his task. How did you warn a woman about one of the world’s most dangerous men-- without drawing his attention yourself?

~~~

“You can stop laughing now.”

A few moments passed as the person Siren was calling caught their breath, letting out an almost musical falling sigh. Their posh, accented voice, something like old Terran British, was still tinged with laughter. “Sorry, darling, but this one really takes the cake, I think. Either he somehow hired someone with a conscience, or this is his worst plan yet.” A second voice on the same end of the voice call broke its silence with a snort.

“Yeah, Si. I don’t want to make light of another one of these attempts, but… they happen almost every time we go planetside. And I’m not gonna lie, this one was pretty funny.”

“Stalking is quite the word for it, though,” the first mused. “I think my favorite part is when he insinuates I should leave the planet to avoid this ‘stalker.’ For my own safety, of course, nothing to do with the job I’m working on. What do you think, Cadet?”

Before the second person could respond, Siren interrupted with a soft clearing of her throat. “Perry--”

“I know.” The humor had disappeared from his voice. “I take this sort of thing very seriously, especially considering he’s gotten your operation involved this time. Is everyone cleared out?”

“Nearly. We don’t want to make the patrons too suspicious, so the rest will report to secure locations after the mole has left. I’m sending an agent out with him, one of his favorites, so it’s nothing unusual for either of them. She can probably hold him on her own, although--”

“I’ll go,” Cadet interjected, beating Siren to the punch. “No need for Perry to get too close to the creep, that way.” Perry sighed.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter if I say that’s unnecessary?”

“Look, I know you could take him down, but all his boss’ tricks are focused on you. They won’t work as well on me or Si’s agent, and that way you’re free to focus on questioning him. It’s why we’re in a team, Per.” She added a bit of teasing to her tone, and Perry responded with a slightly begrudging hum of assent. Hearing that, Siren continued.

“Alright, if you’re both set, I’ll ready my agent and wait for your signal. We have two hours. Be safe.” The weight of the last two words seemed somehow directed at both her listeners at once, but with a different meaning for each. Cadet echoed Siren’s unspoken message to her, pressing her fingers to her lips for a moment in a gesture she knew her wife would mimic without even needing to see her.

“Love you too, Si.”

Perry said nothing. Siren’s meaning for her was something she already knew. They also knew they’d disregard it in a second if it meant keeping that bar standing. With a click, the line disconnected, and the clock began to tick.

~~~

Trinity hoped he was hiding his nervousness alright. He still hadn’t heard anything back from the woman about his message, but today his sensor had picked up new security footage of her. Recent footage, from just hours ago. His boss definitely had it by now, and it meant she definitely hadn’t left the planet. In fact, she seemed to have moved in even closer. So even though there was a chance it’d get him caught, Trinity was back at Absolute Zero. Felicia had even bent the rules a bit and bought him a drink, although he’d been careful to filter out the alcohol through his cybernetics as he drank. He couldn’t afford to be compromised. He tried to pay attention to Felicia’s attempts to cheer him up, but her reassurance that he could talk to his “mystery girl” in person next time she came in didn’t help much. What would he say if she did? And if she didn’t, would he just have to give up? Maybe it wasn’t any of his business, anyway.

“What’s that?”

Felicia’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d muttered that last bit aloud. “Oh… I mean, I just don’t know if I should get involved in her business anyway. I did say she could ignore me if she wanted. Why can’t I just get over it?” He let his arms slide down across the table in front of him, laying his head on them pitifully.

“Aw, Ty. It’s not even for sure yet, and you’re getting all heartbroken?” A flicker of blue registered in the corner of Felicia’s vision, and she surreptitiously glanced down at her right hand where it rested on Trinity’s back, firmly out his sight. Sure enough, the tiny chip embedded in her thumbnail flashed once, twice, and then faded. She tapped the nail twice with her forefinger-- message received-- then slapped Trinity on the back playfully and stood up. “Alright, that’s enough alcohol and self pity for you, babe. We’re going for a walk.”

“Really, now? But--”

“It’s my job to cheer you up, and that’s not gonna happen if you’re just sitting around here moping. Come on, I know you love Andromeda Park this time of night, we haven’t been in days since you’ve been pining like this.” She leaned in, tucking her arm through his and pulling him out of his chair with strength that would have been surprising if he hadn’t seen it in action so many times before. With a sigh, he allowed her to lead him through the bar and out into the mild night air. They walked slowly, turning down familiar alleys towards the park. Trinity let Felicia’s arm slip from his as he walked, turning a contemplative gaze up to the sky. The slight wind against his face did seem to clear his head a bit. Perhaps she was right, and this really would give him some time to think things through--

Without warning, his right arm was twisted behind his back. Just as he started to struggle, a second pair of hands, these ones gloved, grabbed his other arm and the back of his head in a steely grip, pushing him to his knees and holding his head forward so he couldn’t see his attackers. Trinity swore, cursing himself for being so distracted. Even his cybernetics were no help if he didn’t have line of sight, or at least a hand free to activate the taser function from the port on his thigh. He knew better than to try and speak, let alone yell for help, given the almost unnaturally strong fingers pressing into the base of his skull right where it met his neck. Held like this, he could do nothing but stare down the shadowed stone alley in front of him, waiting to see what would become of him.

A shadow moved at the end of the alley. Moonlight flashed off of a cascade of shining red fabric, shifting to reveal a smooth expanse of pale thigh… and the matte black hilt of a knife, placed just so it would remain concealed beneath the fabric until the wielder chose to reveal it. As the figure took one more slow step forward, new details revealed themselves to Trinity one by one, his brain registering each as if in slow motion. His eyes traced up from the knife… a long way up. The curve of a hip, clad in red. Wrists and neck free of jewelry or adornment, save a thin black metal band tight around one wrist, leaving nothing that could be caught or grabbed. And finally, a curl of auburn hair caught the moonlight like silk, tumbling loose over one bare shoulder.

“Fuck.” It came out as almost a whisper, his voice cracking a bit, and he cleared his throat. It was an affectation, of course. It was safest to keep trying to sound like Ty, well meaning if a touch dim, though it was tempting to drop character and coldly insist to be allowed to explain himself. “Guess I didn’t need to worry after all.”

Trinity’s mystery woman chuckled slightly, but there was no humor in the sound. She kept her face obscured in shadow— honestly a good move on her part, since with a clear view Trinity could at least try to activate his eye— and tossed her hair back almost contemptuously. “Please. I know why you’re really here. Do you?”

“Do I— of course I know why I’m here!” Because you’re too soft to survive, his brain supplied, unhelpfully. Whenever he was in danger like this, that internal voice sounded uncomfortably like the velvety tones of his employer. You’ll walk right into a death trap if you think you’re defending a defenseless woman from assault, it whispered, but he ignored it, setting his jaw. Defenseless or not, he still stood by his original plan. No one had the defenses to stand up to Fate— the addition of the Jericho company had only made that fact more stark in his mind. He gave up on keeping character. It was easier to be convincing if he truly wasn’t lying to her. He relaxed slightly despite the arms holding him down. Ty might struggle when outnumbered, but Trinity knew better. His words were his most powerful weapon. “Look.” His voice was more even than before, his word choice more eloquent. “I don’t know who you are, and I’ll be the first to admit that I underestimated you, but please at least hear me out. The man I’m talking about is… truly dangerous. It isn’t this job alone, he’s—“

“So you’re one of those.” She smirked slightly, lowering her voice for a moment. “Azzy owes me 10 cred, she thought you were one of the less stupid ones. You really think you’re the one who came up with this plan?”

Trinity opened his mouth to tell her that in fact, he had, but the woman held out a finger and the hand on the back of his neck tightened almost imperceptibly. He closed it again.

“Let’s see if I can predict this story. You’re new still, so you’re trailing his footsteps like a little puppy, trying to learn all you can. He can do anything, after all, open and shut. You want that kind of power, so you do whatever he says. Until suddenly a simple job starts dragging on far longer than it should.” She tapped a finger to her lips in a gesture of vaguely mocking consternation. “How can this be? It doesn’t make sense, until one day he just so happens to let something slip to you. An accident, of course. A bit of footage, or a location, or maybe some sad poetry fragment he’s written on the back of a lipstick stained napkin.” Her words grew more and more sarcastic. “You, being the charitable type of power hungry pup, are worried for this poor unknown woman’s safety.” The oddly bitter emphasis on the word woman threw him for a moment, but she moved on before he could puzzle it out. “So you track her down, leaving a sweet little trail of breadcrumbs along with your warning— but it’s alright, it’s all behind his back! And you can go back home to your war profiteering and dirty money, content in your own altruism. Does that sound about right?”

Trinity just gaped at her for a moment before pulling his thoughts together. “Listen to me. I truly don’t enjoy seeing a woman in danger—” She frowned, cutting him off.

“Not a woman, but continue. I’m curious to hear your side.” The tone was biting, and the odd emphasis before suddenly made a lot more sense.

“Oh. My apologies, I assumed.”

“I noticed. Most do. Continue.”

“Right.” He pursed his lips. “Well. Moving past the sheer amount of sarcastic bullshit in your little story, I believe you have the bones of the issue. I won’t argue with you on your assessment of my character, but there’s one thing you’ve missed.”

“And what is that?” To his surprise, they sounded genuinely interested. He filed away that tidbit for later.

“He didn’t ‘let something slip’ to me. I don’t act on things I’ve simply stumbled upon.”

“Please. You think you’re the first to believe you got your information on me genuinely? Of your own merit? With the amount of stock you seem to put in his abilities, that seems rather conceited of you.” They sighed, almost seeming to deflate a bit from that perfectly poised stance. “He knows you’re here, and he knows I’m here. And if that establishment is destroyed tonight along with the livelihood of all who work there, it’s on you.”

Trinity flinched slightly at the accusation, but kept his gaze level. “He does not know that I’m here. I swear that.”

The figure pinched the bridge of their nose. “After all of this, that’s the hill you’re dying on?”

A rough sigh came from Trinity’s left side, and the hand on his neck tightened again as one of his captors finally spoke in a low, slightly gravelly voice he didn’t recognize. “We can’t keep dragging this out, Per. Two minutes, then you gotta call it.”

“I know.” They ran the hand that had been pinching their nose back through their hair, and took a half step forward. “Ok, then. What makes you so sure?”

Trinity bit the inside of his lip, the way he did when he didn’t want people to see him sweat. This was getting dangerous, in more ways than one. The longer this went on, the more likely it became that his boss would find out somehow, and this person was right— anything that happened would be on him. If he didn’t say something soon to convince them, he had no doubt they could have him killed or detained as quickly as they had subdued him in the first place. But the only way to prove what he knew was true was to reveal something he’d managed to keep secret for four years, now. Two minutes. It’d probably be less if the hand on his neck had anything to say about it, so he didn’t exactly have much time to come up with a better plan. Fuck it, if he was dead either way he might as well die knowing he was in the right.

“I’m sure because the way I saw it was with my cybernetic eye that two people in the entire galaxy even knew existed... until just now. It’s one of a kind. You were right, I have been watching him. It’s the best way to learn. So I planted my sensor in his office, and watched him creep on security footage of you alone in there for hours when he thought no one could see. That’s no convenient slip up.” He didn’t bother to disguise the disgust in his voice. He respected the man, but this was one thing he couldn’t abide.

“Cybernetics…” They lifted their wrist to their mouth to speak. That black band must be some kind of communication device. “Azure. Is that possible?”

There was a pause as they listened to some response Trinity couldn’t hear, then their gaze slowly panned back to him, staring him down like a hawk to a rabbit.

“Secret, one of a kind cybernetics. An interesting story, but not an easy one to make up on the fly. Either you’re a far better liar than you seem and have been completely in on his plans from the beginning, or…”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Oh. So that’s where Felicia has gotten to. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t really thought about that until he heard her voice from his right side— his other captor. Wonderful.

“You know about this?”

“I knew his eye was cybernetic. He played it like a fancy prosthetic, but that’d make sense if it’s one of a kind. What he’s saying isn’t impossible, and he’s a regular. I know when he’s lying.” The red clad figure nodded slowly, processing Felicia’s endorsement.

“I trust you to do your job.” Even while they spoke with Felicia, they still hadn’t broken that piercing gaze, focusing on Trinity. “Well. I suppose you’re a first, then. In that case, take this advice.” Their weight shifted slightly, and Trinity could almost feel the danger radiating from them. The energy was spine-chillingly similar to the danger that Fate projected just by entering a room, a mirrored twin. “Know that I know far more about your employer and his abilities than you do. I can’t stop you from going back to him, and you can’t stop me from ruining this lovely, easy job you’re trying to finish up.” They spoke with perfect confidence, without a hint of conceit. “He and his other lap dogs will continue to pull this kind of shite, it’s a given. But if you ever try to track me down again, you will die. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” Trinity narrowed his eyes. “And so we’re clear on one more thing— I’d never bring harm to this place. It’s been as much a home to me as anywhere.”

“People like you never do, intentionally. That’s why you’re less trustworthy than the ones who do intend harm.” The low light of the alley caught a hint of a bitter smirk as it crossed her lips. “At least you know where they stand. Cadet, let’s go.”

The grip on his left arm and neck loosened, and he felt his unknown captor shift to stand next to him. “Four, hold him till we give the all clear. Then Siren says protocol’s down to your discretion.”

“Got it.” Felicia took over the grapple, pushing him further to the ground. His cheek pressed up against the pavement, the craned position of his head and neck keeping him from seeing anything but a sliver of wall in front of him. He sighed, listening to the thud of two sets of heavy boots as they faded down the alley and into the sounds of the night.

“...Four, huh?”

“You’ve been a regular long enough. In your line of business, you suspected. Just like I suspected ‘Ty’ was a front.” Felicia’s voice was much more matter of fact than he was used to. “It’s a useful place, and you can play all sides, but there’s always priority one.”

“I get it. I could’ve put the place in danger.”

“It’s home for a lot more than you.”

“I know. I was telling the truth, but if I can’t come back—“

“That’s up to me.” Felicia glanced down at her thumbnail as the tiny chip flashed again. All clear. She lightly moved off of him, releasing his arm from the position she’d held it in twisted behind his back, and Trinity could see a compact blaster in her palm. She flicked her wrist, and it disappeared. “I say you can, if you can take it for what it is.”

“Just a bar. People gossip and flirt and trade information. It’s a good place to land at the end of a day.” He shrugged, rubbing his shoulder. “You could have dislocated that, you know?”

“Fair enough.” She ignored his last comment, and tapped her nail twice to acknowledge. “Maybe I’ll see you again then, Ty.” The name was a promise in its own way— he could keep his cover if she could keep hers. “Stay out of trouble.”

With that, she turned and began walking purposefully back towards Absolute Zero, leaving Trinity alone in the alley to nurse his bruised shoulder and pride.

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #my writing #sci fi #rebel blue #trinity

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xpouii · 5 years

Text

Tentacletober Day 20

It’s finally here! Part three of my Intrulogical series starting with Day 6 and continued in Day 13. Things get a little dramatic--and even more shamelessly sexy this time around. I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Established Tentacle Relationship

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Remus, Deceit, Patton, Virgil, Roman, Thomas

Warnings/Tags: NSFW, Exhibitionism, swearing, shouting, crying, moral quandaries, unrequited love, bit of awkward romance, sympathetic Remus, Sympathetic Deceit, full NSFW tags under the cut!

NSFW Tags: Deepthroating, gagging, mild dubcon sort of but not really, biting, two dicks/hemipenis, cum marking, facial, choking. Enjoy!

The kitchen was full of the pleasant smells of coffee and bacon; Logan had made breakfast—mostly to keep Remus from burning down the kitchen. They were sitting together at the table, enjoying one another’s quirky company. Logan had foregone breakfast for coffee, and Remus ate unsurprisingly quickly between ramblings about his idea for a new horror movie. Logan let him talk, stopping occasionally to correct him for anatomical inconsistencies, and by the time Remus had finished eating they were well on their way to a fairly impressive body horror piece. It wasn’t long, though, before Remus got antsy, “So you’re not going to eat anything?”

Logan grunted noncommittally, taking another swallow of coffee, “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” Remus said. “Because I do have something for you, if you are. It’s your favorite.”

Logan looked up and raised an eyebrow as Remus grinned, wide and clever like the Cheshire cat, “Are you referring to your penis?”

“I am,” Remus said. “Interested?”

Logan glanced to the clock. They had almost an hour before Patton would be awake, and even longer before anyone else would come looking. He cleared his throat as if thinking about it, finishing off his coffee. He pushed his chair back, then slid below the kitchen table. Remus snickered and scooted his own chair up further against the table. He spread his knees a bit and his hand went to his belt, but Logan pushed them away, taking over. It was a fun game of self-denial for Remus to keep his hands—and eyes—above the table while below, Logan had managed to free his cock and was currently acquainting every inch of it with his tongue. Remus closed his eyes but jumped and straightened when Deceit strolled into the kitchen, “Morning.”

“Oh! Hey Dee!” Remus said cheerily, wrapping his legs around Logan’s torso to keep him from retreating. “You’re out and about awfully early.”

“Well it was quiet downstairs,” Deceit said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Didn’t seem sensible to make an entire pot of coffee for myself.”

“Logan always does,” Remus said. “He loves having something hot in his mouth.”

Deceit sat down in Logan’s chair and scooted up, stopping when his foot collided with Logan; he raised an eyebrow then sighed, “He’s under the table. Wonderful, there goes my appetite.”

“Morning!” Patton called as he stepped inside.

Logan choked lightly on Remus’ cock and the creative side feigned a cough to cover it, “Patton! You’re awake early!”

“Well I was hungry so I thought instead of laying in bed thinking about food I might as well get up for the day and head down,” Patton said. “Wednesday is usually cold cereal day but I’m having oatmeal!”

“What’s life without whimsy?” Deceit said with a smirk at Remus.

“So I’m surprised to see you here together,” Patton said as he went about making his breakfast. “You two don’t usually come to the kitchen very much… well I guess you have been Remus… never without-“

Patton was interrupted by the microwave and he retrieved his oatmeal, sitting down at the table, “That smells divine,” Deceit said. “Flavor?”

“Um… apple cinnamon,” Patton said, testing the temperature by tapping the spoon to his lips then taking a bite. “Mm hits the spot doesn’t it?”

Patton scooted up and Deceit threw his legs over Logan’s back, pulling him in a bit to keep Patton from kicking him. “I’m sure it does. I’m afraid my metabolism wouldn’t let me live it down if I had much for breakfast, isn’t that right Remus?”

Remus’ eyes opened from where they’d drifted shut as Logan swallowed around him, “Hm? Oh, yes of course, breakfast, goes right to your ass.”

Deceit gave Remus a glare but Patton sighed, “Oh Remus don’t say that. Deceit’s body is beautiful and perfect! Don’t bodyshame. It’s mean.”

“Sorry Patton,” Remus moaned softly, slapping a hand over his mouth and pretending to yawn as Logan let out an overwhelmed moan around Remus’ cock.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you finished up and sank out?” Deceit said through his teeth. “I’m sure you have a lot to do in your room.”

“Almost,” Remus said, unwilling to give up the sharp zap of lust he was getting from speaking to Patton while Logan swallowed his cock under the table. “So close.”

Virgil came in then and both of the dark sides went still and quiet; Patton looked up with a bright smile, “Good morning, kiddo.”

Virgil gave a little wave, scowling at the other two and walking to the cupboard for a glass. He turned around and dropped the glass; it shattered, glass skittering across the floor just as Remus came and Logan pushed off his cock to sputter and gag, getting most of the ill-gotten release on his face. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Virgil shouted.

Patton quickly pushed back from the table and saw the scene below, screaming and jumping to his feet, “Oh no oh gosh oh no!”

Deceit sighed, “You really should have just left when I told you, Remus.”

“Well I was having fun!” Remus whined, tucking himself back in his pants and scooting back to help Logan up. “Sorry Moonbeam.”

Logan took off his glasses and waved off Remus’ attempt to lean in and lick them clean. “It’s quite alright we just misjudged our window of privacy.”

Virgil stomped past them, his boots crunching in the glass as he shoved his way around Patton, “EVERYBODY IN THE LIVINGROOM NOW!”

“Oh goodie,” Deceit muttered, handing Logan a handkerchief. “Clean your face before we get dragged out in front of Thomas.”

Logan nodded and quickly cleaned up as that familiar tug in the back of his mind pulled. The other two vanished, and he managed to fight it long enough to extirpate the handkerchief and fix his tie before he rose up in his usual spot. Thomas was standing with his shoes in his hand, glancing at the door, “Uh, Virgil, you do remember I have to be at-“

“That doesn’t matter!” Virgil interrupted. “Logan and Remus were fornicating in the kitchen this morning!”

“Great Odin’s tube socks why!?” Roman shouted, covering his eyes. “Do you have to say it out loud like that where the rest of us have to hear it, Virgil!?”

“Yes perhaps some discretion would be appropriate,” Logan said.

Patton was dumbfounded, wringing his hands and staring at the floor; he couldn’t stop thinking about the violation of having the deed happening mere feet away from him while he chatted with Deceit like an idiot. He whimpered and covered his eyes with his hands, shaking his head. Remus, for his part, did look a bit sheepish, likely only because Deceit had been scolding him when they popped up. “This is all very upsetting for everyone,” Roman said. “Mayhaps we could all just pretend it never happened and move on with our lives?”

“I don’t think so. Somebody’s gonna answer for what I had to see in that kitchen!” Virgil said, his voice warped and deepened by stress.

“Should I fetch my bowtie? Are we going back to the courtroom?” Deceit muttered from his spot between the brothers.

“Nobody invited you, Deceit!” Thomas said.

“I did,” Virgil said. “He was there! He was involved!”

“A dear friend of mine is on trial; of course I’m going to show up,” Deceit said, ignoring Virgil.

“Nobody is on trial here,” Logan said calmly.

“You’re right!” Virgil snapped, “Because we’re way past judge and jury at this point!”

Deceit sighed, “And that leaves executioner. Logan, don’t let logic cloud your reasoning. This is a trial, or perhaps more accurately, a witch trial.”

“Thomas can’t afford to have his Logic corrupted by-“

“Corrupted.” Deceit sneered. “You three may think you need to wear mud boots when you come to the subconscious but I assure that—despite Remus’ best efforts—I keep it very clean and organized downstairs.”

“This isn’t helping,” Thomas said. “Logan, please, you have to know how this looks!”

Logan folded his arms, “Thomas, I thought we’d been through this. Remus isn’t dangerous to you anymore than the rest of us. Too much of anything is dangerous, but worrying about me being corrupted is baseless and hypervigilant. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Fuck you, Logan!” Virgil snapped. “You’re just dick-crazy and you have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Language!” Patton squeaked. “Can we please keep this civil?!”

“Nothing short of an apology on his knees is gonna make this go away, Pat,” Virgil said. “Logan betrayed us—on his knees!”

“Virgil don’t be ridiculous,” Logan said. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I caught you blowing him under the kitchen table! Patton was sitting two feet away! We eat there!”

“Virgil please I’m getting lightheaded!” Patton said, covering his ears.

Roman sighed, “Can I just say I’m incredibly uncomfortable with the subject matter too? Can I just duck out please?”

“No!” Virgil said. “We have to be a united front!”

“It wasn’t my intention to engage in any exhibitionism,” Logan said. “In my defense the kitchen was empty when we started, and Patton came in half an hour earlier than usual.”

Thomas winced, “Oh god I don’t think I need to hear this either. It explains the… weird dreams I’ve been having lately.”

“I’m not in charge of dreams,” Remus said.

“N-no that was me,” Roman said with a blush. “Sorry about that. The new season of the Bachelorette has been a little intense.”

“You see Thomas? Blaming everything sexual that happens in your mind on Remus is not only naïve, it’s rude.”

“Oh I don’t mind rude,” Remus said. “I’ve kind of developed a persona around it, you know.”

Deceit rolled his eyes, “So are we going to burn Remus at the stake or learn to be adults and mind our own business, Virgil?”

“When one of my friends is doing his job with a cum-addled brain I have a right to take issue!”

Patton and Thomas both whined, “Ok Virgil seriously Patton’s gonna pass out!” Thomas scolded.

Logan’s hands curled into fists and he spoke through his teeth, “You have no right to complain about the quality of my work. I am always professional and I would never let something as trivial as… as semen affect my job! Just this morning I stopped you from convincing Thomas to go to the doctor after he hiccuped and sneezed at the same time because you decided he had brain cancer!”

“He might have it!” Virgil said. “And this isn’t about me!”

“It’s about all of you,” Thomas said. “Is this… is this the first time any of you have… have hooked up like this?”

Roman glanced nervously at Deceit, turning a bit red, but the snake interjected, “If I may, Thomas? You’re going to be much happier if you retract that question immediately and live in blissful ignorance.”

“Ok never mind,” Thomas said. “Just… I want to hear from everybody… Patton?”

Patton was picking at a loose thread on his cardigan; he looked up at Logan and frowned. “Logan… I know you don’t feel anything for Remus… I just can’t understand.”

“You don’t know what I feel, Patton,” Logan said. “I… would rather not discuss it publicly, but to suggest our relationship is merely physical… well would be incorrect.”

Patton gasped softly, but only Deceit heard the tiny intake of air, “You… have feelings for him?”

“I do.”

“You do?” Remus asked, hand on his heart. “Really, Moonbeam?”

“That is disgusting!” Virgil shouted, “Thomas, wh-“

“Shush Virgil I wanna hear this,” Thomas said, waving him off as he leaned in.

Virgil growled and sunk out; Roman winced, “I’ll… I’ll go talk to him.”

Once Roman was gone Logan continued, “Yes, Remus, really. I’m not good at expressing myself. I know that, and you know that… but I have deep, complex feelings for you that I’d rather not unpack right now, or maybe ever.”

Remus’ face broke into a grin, “Oh Moonbeam I love you too!”

Thomas stared at them for a moment then threw his hands up, “Ok, alright, fine. If you actually want this, and this is… this is real then I couldn’t forgive myself if I got in the middle. As long as you—both of you—promise to keep doing your jobs the same as ever then—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—you have my blessing.”

“Very good Thomas,” Deceit said. “And I’m being sarcastic. You’re so mature.”

Thomas looked over baffled but Logan cleared his throat, “Ignore him, and… thank you Thomas. Although I have a tenuous relationship with right and wrong, I appreciate your support.”

“You’re welcome, Logan. I meant what I said, though. Don’t let Virgil catch you slipping.”

Logan smiled, and once Remus had sunk into the floor, he followed, leaving Patton and Deceit alone with Thomas. “Well,” Patton said softly. “This was… very different.”

“Yeah… I’m headed out for the day,” Thomas said. “Are you ok, Pat?”

Patton nodded, closing his eyes, “Shaken up but I’ll be alright, Thomas. Have fun, kiddo.”

Thomas sat to put on his shoes, and Deceit followed Patton into the mindscape, “You don’t look so good, Daddy.”

Patton shrugged and forced a little half smile as he stepped into the kitchen, walking to the sink, “I’m fine, Deceit. Just um… dishes need doing, right?”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s important unless it comforts you,” Deceit said as Patton turned on the water. “I’m all for avoidance when it has a purpose but I think a good dose of the truth might set you free.”

The white noise of the sink running stretched out a few long seconds before it was shattered, figuratively and literally by Patton dropping a plate to the floor. He spun around, tears running down his cheeks, “Why didn’t he pick me, Deceit? I thought I had more time! I was… I was flirting, a little. Logan’s so closed off. I was taking my time.”

Deceit cooed as he stepped forward, hands on Patton’s shoulders, “There there, dear heart. Sometimes love doesn’t turn out how we want it to, does it? It’s going to be alright.”

Patton leaned forward and cried into Deceit’s chest, feeling the comforting pressure of Deceit’s hands spread down his arms and around his back—more than just two hands, and Patton sank fully against him, “Thank you.”

“That’s quite alright,” Deceit said. “You know, I can empathize with your predicament. I spend a lot of time alone now too.”

Patton blushed as he took half a step back, and Deceit let him, releasing him completely, “Deceit I… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but… I’m upset, and lonely and very very confused. Would you please touch me?”

Deceit was surprised at first, then the look melted into a subdued smile, “Of course sweetheart. But, unlike Logan, let’s not get caught with our hands in the cookie jar, hm?”

“My room?” Patton offered.

“How about the subconscious,” Deceit said. “In the imagination. Roman and Remus are busy. We’ll have the place to ourselves and it’s neutral ground.”

“Deal,” Patton said, his cheeks turning red as Deceit took his hand.

The subconscious was quiet, dark and it gave off an unmistakable feeling of security, secrecy. It would have made Patton a little uncomfortable, but it was exactly what he wanted now. He followed Deceit into the imagination, inhaling the fresh air of the little forested path they stepped onto. “Don’t worry,” Deceit said. “We don’t have to rough it.”

Patton giggled and let Deceit lead him up along the hillside until they came across a small cluster of cottages. “Does anyone live here?”

“Not often,” Deceit said. “Remus likes to use the place when he plays giant monsters so it’s abandoned unless he’s rampaging through it. Come on.”

They ducked into a well-furnished, clean cozy cottage and Patton couldn’t help but sigh happily, “It’s so cute in here.”

“Not nearly as cute as you,” Deceit said. “But that’s an unfair standard isn’t it? Is there anything in the entire mindscape as cute as you?”

Patton blushed deeply and bit his bottom lip, “Maybe you?”

Deceit laughed and pulled Patton into a sweet kiss. It lingered, then it deepened, and Deceit pulled Patton against him, teasing his forked tongue against Patton’s full, soft lips. Patton relinquished, parting his lips and moaning around the sweet intrusion. He untied his cardigan and tossed it aside, untucking his shirt from his khakis as Deceit swallowed away his soft sounds. Deceit took over then, hands going to Patton’s belt and unbuckling it, sliding it slowly—maddeningly so—out of its loops.

Deceit broke the kiss and Patton’s breath came out shallow and quick; he held onto Deceit so he could step out of his shoes, his legs already a bit trembly. “Is there a bedroom?”

Deceit swept Patton up into his arms and carried him into the small bedroom, laying him down on the bed. His expression was a mixture of lust and sadness that Deceit was determined to kiss away. He leaned in and their lips met again. Patton wrapped his arms around Deceit’s neck, taking every ounce of comfort he was offered until he had to break, sucking in a breath as Deceit’s lips moved to his neck. He fumbled with Deceit’s capelet, pushing it off and gently removing his hat before he set his focus on Deceit’s gloves. The kisses on his neck turned to gentle bites as he pulled the gloves off and interlaced their fingers, tracing the soft, smooth scales along Deceit’s knuckles with his fingertips. Deceit sucked a deep mark over Patton’s pulse point, humming pleasantly when Patton gasped and arched up against him, “Deceit.”

“Yes darling?” the snake muttered against Patton’s neck.

“Please,” Patton whispered. When Deceit pulled back and met his gaze, his eyes were wide and burning with lust undeniable. “Please I want more.”

Deceit chuckled, “Of course, my dear. All you ever have to do is ask.”

Patton released Deceit’s hands and moved to unbutton Deceit’s shirt, “May I?”

Deceit shrugged the open shirt off of his shoulders and sat back on his knees when Patton raised up on his elbows, “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Patton kissed Deceit again, then trailed kisses along his jaw and down to his left shoulder, tracing the complex pattern of scales that moved over Deceit’s modest musculature with his tongue. He closed his eyes and practically purred, not used the touch of a hand, much less something so eagerly intimate on the part of his body that usually drove people away, “They’re so beautiful,” Patton said. “You know that.”

Deceit rolled his eyes but he was smiling, “Easy there, my dear. If a snake finds somewhere warm they never leave.”

Patton smiled and pulled his shirt off, laying back flat on the bed, “Maybe that’s ok.”

Deceit bit his bottom lip and kissed Patton, a little more forceful this time as he undid the other’s pants, pulling them down and off with slow, practiced movements. Patton was a bit more clumsy, but endearingly so as he relieved Deceit of his pants, giggling when his fingers found bare skin instead of the underwear he expected. Deceit let his fingertips play over Patton’s stomach, eliciting a stifled giggle as the other side shrank under his ticklish attention. “Deceit!” he panted, taking off his glasses and setting them on the little rustic nightstand.

“Ticklish?” Deceit rumbled, kissing down Patton’s chest.

“W-wait,” Patton panted, and Deceit did as asked, looking up at him. “I… want to see you. Don’t run away.”

“I’m not going far,” Deceit said, but Patton’s expression gave him pause, and he moved back up, touching his face. “Alright, I’m here.”

Patton smiled as his heart skipped, and he reached down between them, barely giving Deceit time to flinch before his palm found the reason for their little dance of avoidance. He met Deceit’s gaze, “Are you alright?”

Deceit cleared his throat, trying to keep his eloquence intact with Patton’s hand wrapped around his cocks. “I’m used to being a man with secrets.”

Patton smiled, kissing his nose, “I want every inch of you.”

Deceit’s heart fluttered and his cocks jumped in Patton’s hand, “Maybe not both the first time, but I’m willing to give it a go.”

Patton blushed and giggled, turning his face away into the pillow under his head, his mirth turning into a soft moan as Deceit kissed his neck, thrusting into his hand, “I want you, Deceit. Please?”

“You needn’t ask twice,” Deceit said, reaching down to remove Patton’s underwear. He conjured a bottle of lube with a smirk that made Patton hide his blushing face again. He applied a generous amount to his fingers and situated himself between Patton’s legs, lifting his hips gently and dragging one of the pillows down to help prop him up. “Say it again, darling. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Patton whimpered. “You inside me, please.”

Deceit smiled and teased Patton with his fingertips before sliding the first one in, slow and gentle until Patton relaxed, ready for a second. Patton squirmed and whimpered as Deceit sought out his prostate, pressing against it with his fingertips until Patton cried out. He slipped his fingers free and helped Patton roll onto his side, “Are you ready?”

Patton nodded, biting his bottom lip and closing his eyes, “I’m ready Deceit please… please make love to me.”

Deceit wanted to tell Patton he wasn’t sure he knew how to do anything involving love, but he bit his forked tongue, and gently moved into position, pulling Patton’s top leg around his waist, opening him up. He exhaled a slow, even breath as he pressed into Patton. The moral side moaned out, his mouth falling open as his hands fisted into the soft patterned quilt beneath him. Deceit moved slowly, holding himself in place once he’d bottomed out, until Patton squirmed beneath him, hips rocking in an obvious request. Deceit smiled to himself and pulled out before thrusting back in, not as gentle as perhaps he should have been, but he wasn’t Roman after all. His romance wasn’t to be taken completely at face value, but the sounds Patton made were unmistakable confirmation that he wasn’t bothered by Deceit’s firm hand—and firmer cocks.

Patton kept his face hidden, and the half Deceit could see was burning bright red, but it wasn’t long before his hand was slipping down between them to wrap around their cocks and stroke them, gentle and slow at first but quickly picking up the pace as the urgency between them rose. Patton was arching and rocking in time with Deceit’s thrusts, mumbling praise and pleas into the pillow and—occasionally, when a particularly loud moan would tear itself free of his chest—biting the pillow to keep himself muffled.

Deceit tightened his grip on Patton’s hips and slowed, but the collision of their bodies remained audible, an undeniable testament, “Look at me, darling.”

Patton did instantly, looking up and meeting Deceit’s eyes. Tears shone in his eyes, but his bottom lip was red and swollen from biting and rubbing against the pillowcase. “Deceit,” he sobbed, torn between emotion and desire. Deceit wrapped one hand around his throat and leaned down to capture his lips, slamming into him mercilessly. Patton dug the nails of his free hand into Deceit’s right shoulder, dragging desperate red scratches into the otherwise unmarred skin.

Deceit growled, moving to whisper in Patton’s ear, “That’s it, beautiful, let me see you. You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“I… I want to cum. I need it… please Deceit!” Patton panted, most of the emotion wrung out of him by the animalistic fucking he was getting.

“Cum whenever you want, darling,” Deceit purred, biting Patton’s earlobe as he moved his hand from Patton’s throat and added it to Patton’s efforts on their cocks.

Patton arched and cried out beneath him, nails digging painfully into Deceit’s back as he came, tears streaming down his face as his chest heaved. Deceit chased his own release in earnest, no longer having to worry about comforting the fucked out side beneath him. Patton whimpered and hiccupped as his body burned with overstimulation, but it didn’t take Deceit long, and soon he was drawing in a sharp, hissing breath and biting down on Patton’s shoulder as he released, both inside and onto his new lover, marking him. Patton pulled Deceit into a desperate kiss as the thrusts slowed and Deceit came down from the orgasmic high.

Deceit gave a few slow, deep thrusts, making a point—to Patton or himself he wasn’t sure. He then pulled out and let Patton curl around him, getting comfortable on his back. He cupped Patton’s face and kissed away the tears, “How many of these are happy?”

Patton blushed, wiping his eyes, “I um… just cry when I feel… you know.”

“Good?”

Patton nodded, nuzzling his face against Deceit’s chest, “Please say we can stay like this for a while.”

“As long as you want, sweetheart,” Deceit purred, stroking Patton’s hair.

#tentacletober #not safe for sanders #intrulogical #moceit #fanfiction

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southwarkcofe · 4 years

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‘Journeys to Ministry’

In this week’s Hearts on Fire blog we hear from three people recently ordained to the Priesthood in the Diocese of Southwark.

Revd Reginald Grant, Assistant Curate at St Mark, Reigate, writes...

In popular British culture, being a minister in the Church of England is often seen as involving riding around the village on a bicycle , usually in a cassock (black robe) and a wide brimmed hat, to visit elderly dowager duchesses , drinking copious cups of tea and sherry, judging jam competition, and cricket matches, and usually being a middle aged white male(vicar of Dibley aside obviously!). The Church of England is probably more diverse than many people realize, in terms of the people who sit in our chairs/ pews on a weekly basis, the styles of worship that attracts people to the church and in the people called to minister to those people. There is still a place for the minister who cycles around the village (hopefully not in a cassock which seems incredibly impractical and unsafe!) and judges the local cricket matches, but today there are many types of ministries and many types of ministers. Ministry is not just in the villages; the urban and suburban churches are experiencing a renaissance in the variety of ministries that are evolving in the Church of England. To meet these differing types of ministries, different types of ministers are being trained and these include people like myself, who don’t cycle, don’t really like sherry and is not familiar with the rules of like cricket!

My journey to ministry started many years ago in the charismatic Anglican Church (Church of England in the West Indies) I grew up in The Bahamas. There was a call on my life, I knew, but I also knew that I wanted to do things other than ministry. I had no frame of reference for this being an option; ministry seemed like an all or nothing deal. I came to England in my early twenties, running away from my calling like the prophet Jonah, to train and pursue a career in healthcare. During my time here, I was blessed with a number of Churches of differing styles and settings from the village church, to suburban churches, from evangelical the mid church, that all nurtured my faith and spirituality. It was in one of these churches, when I was feeling confused about my future in my life and career, that the question of ministry came up again. I think that God was waiting for me to be vulnerable and open to being the person that could minister in the way that he wanted me to.

I wish that I could say that I leapt with Holy joy at the opportunity, but no, I tried to run away from it. I told the very patient Vicar, that no, he must be mistaken. God, calling me? I wasn’t holy enough. I had a career in the NHS that I enjoyed. I was not married as yet as I met my wife during the process of discerning the sort of minister I would become. I could not sing, as anyone who has heard me do Karaoke can attest to! I was not the image that I had in my own head of what a minister should look like.

The Vicar I was talking this process through was a patient man. One could say that like me, he had the patience of a saint and he had probably heard all of these arguments from reluctant future ministers to be, before. What I and probably many other people in my position don’t understand is that no one is born a minister, you don’t come into the maternity ward saying the words to the Eucharist (communion service). People grow into the people who can minister to the people of God and grow into people who can minister in different settings, different ways, and in different styles of Churches. There are many ways to be a minister in the Church of England, and many types of people who are called to minister in this church.

In my training, I met many people just like myself, people who had run from ministry, who had their questions, and doubts. Doubt, I learnt, was not necessarily a bad thing, because it leaves room for God to show you just how powerful he really is.

My seminary training was over three years, which sounds longer than it was. It was in a setting where I could continue to work while I studied. There where sacrifices that had to be made in terms of time for study, weekends away from my family, and time away from my old church. This was a part of the process to prepare you for the challenges that lay ahead in ministry.

I chose the path of self-supporting minister, or worker priest as it is sometimes called. In this path, I continue to follow my career in the NHS, but I also minister in a church in my spare time, which as I have a young family is a challenge. But, one thing that I would say is my church has been very understanding. Some of my colleagues at Seminary choose to wear their clergy-wear at work. This is not something that I choose to do or can do in the context of my job, but in the Church of England there are many ways to be a minister. I keep my work life separate from my church life but some of my patients know about my ministry, as it is something that I am unashamed about. I just don’t minister in my work setting in the same way that I do in my church setting.

In my work setting, I minister by just being there for my patients, caring for them, listening to them in the same way that anyone else in healthcare would. It is a ministry of presence, one where God’s love is shown without you preaching or even mentioning the name of Jesus; a ministry that does not require ordination to do.

My church setting ministry is more varied, especially now that I can officiate weddings, baptisms, and funerals. It is a ministry in which you accompany people all throughout their lives. We are all a part of this ministry ordained, or not, as it is the ministry of all believers. The ministry of a priest is however distinct in a way that can be hard to explain in a simple way.

However, the best way to explain it is to use examples. For instance, the role of a minister/priest is to take ordinary things like bread and wine and to use them to show people the extent of the love of Jesus. He loved us so much that he gave himself completely to us, that he was willing to become like us, even in the extent of taking on all of our humanity, bearing the burden of our flaws and feeling the pain of aloneness, and death. His love for us means that we have a future with him beyond the pain of death, and that he will be with us always and his love is greater than we can imagine. The role of a priest is to take the ordinary splashing of water or putting of oil on the head of a child /adult and show people that this is a sign that God has made us his people. We are part of his family, loved and accepted, warts, flaws and all. The role of a priest is to hold all of God’s people in prayer, to stand in the gap for people who can’t/won’t/are unable to pray.

There are many other examples of what a Minister does, and in many cases these are more or less applicable to each individual Minister. That is the beauty of ministry in the Church of England. There are many roles, each needing a different type of person to fill them. You may not be the sort of minister who cycles around the village in a cassock, but if you feel that God has called you to minister there is a role that you can fill and minister in the church. Whether ordained or not, you can fulfil your calling to serve God in the way that he is calling you to serve him.

Revd Carol Bates, Assistant Curate at St Michael, East Wickham, reflects…

Several weeks before my Ordination, people kept telling me, “You must be getting excited about your ordination.”

Although many were excited for me, it took a while for me to feel the same way. Part of this, I think, was a safety mechanism I’d put in place in case the Ordination didn’t go ahead due to COVID government restrictions. Petertide (July) ordinations had been postponed till Michaelmas (September/October) and I envisaged a repeat postponement. Imposter syndrome was also popping up in my thoughts every now and again - Am I really going to be a Priest?..Seriously God, Me?..Is this all a dream?…

Thankfully my pre-ordination meeting with the Bishop and the on-line ordination retreat programme really helped to put my mind at rest and affirm that God is calling me to actually become more fully myself in the service of God and his people.

I don’t have to be the perfect imaginings of a Priest. I need to be myself. It is easy to develop a persona of being professionally religious. The challenge is to keep a grip on myself and be real and authentic, offering myself so that I can help connect people, on a profound level to God and to one another. So it’s ok to paint my nails bright orange and discuss Strictly come Dancing with my congregation every now and again.

Southwark ordinations were carried out in several churches in the different areas of Kingston, Croydon and Woolwich. It was a blessing to have had my ordination in the actual church in which I am serving- this made it extra special.

On the day of my ordination I walked to church in my cassock. I passed 10 walkers on the way greeting them with a smile and ‘Good Morning’. All of them reciprocated the cheery hello and one of them, Rupert, stopped to ask me where I was going. When I told him I was going to be ordained Priest at the church across the road he wished me all the best and congratulated me. It felt good to be encouraged by a complete stranger.

I arrived at church feeling very happy and peaceful. A number of people were setting up and getting ready -I am so grateful for all the work congregation members put in behind the scenes, so much effort goes into getting a church ready for an Ordination Service, particularly in the area of cleaning. I made sure they knew how much I valued them and their efforts.

It was good to greet family and friends as they arrived, many of whom I hadn’t seen for a long time, but amongst all the brewing excitement, conversations and bustle, I knew I needed to prepare myself. I lit some candles in memory of departed loved ones and focused my scattered thoughts and emotions on God.

The service was live-streamed and went really smoothly thanks to good organisation and the rehearsal beforehand.

When the Bishop laid hands on me, I felt myself physically trembling. There was also a rush of emotion and warm feeling in my head. Now when people ask me, ‘Do you feel any different? The answer is ‘Yes. Something happened when I got ordained. I was very much affirmed in my calling as Priest by family and friends, the congregation, my local priest, a diocesan Director, the diocesan Bishop and even a complete stranger! Most important of all, I felt God’s Holy Spirit rest upon me, affirming me as his precious child and that I am held in his love. The affirmation and love I received, particularly over my Ordination weekend, has given me fresh confidence in the work to which God has called me.

Looking back on the past 16 months as a Curate I am surprised at the amount of Civic duties in which I have been involved. Public speaking at the Greenwich and Bexley Hospice 25th Anniversary and Christmas Carol Services, Giving short talks about Christian Festivals and Hospitality at the Bexley InterFaith Forum, even the services and assemblies for our church school could be seen as a civic role. The role of a Parish Priest encompasses much more than the actual church and its congregation. Who was it that said, ‘The church exists solely for the benefit of those outside of it?’ Or words to that effect?

Serving the church in prayer and worship, even in a different tradition to what I am accustomed, has come naturally thanks to my ordinand training and the supportive training incumbents I’ve encountered along the way. Preaching has also been a natural joy thanks to my Reader training and experience along the way. Lockdown, due to the pandemic, made me deeply thankful for many other useful skills I gained previously as a Teacher of teenagers with Special Needs. The skill I’ve found most beneficial is that of making short videos and uploading them to Youtube. I was always making videos of my autistic students - the only way I could get them to do any work was if it was about them, work had to be relevant! Now I’ve been able to make videos about Good Friday, Pentecost, as well as record songs and sermons. Who would have thought I’d be using these skills again?…Nothing is ever wasted when it comes to serving God.

When I think about future goals, the impact of COVID on the Church’s way of being and purpose, influences much of my thinking. The Church must function outside of its building if it is to share the love of God with others, if it is to enable christians to grow in faith and in relationship to God and others. The building itself and its teaching must be relevant to its community context and finding ways to make church more relevant must be a goal for all of us. Making christian faith relevant for those who attend the church building, those gathering on-line and also for those who do neither, is something I’m working on. I’ve recently set up a public Facebook account, not to live-stream services ( although this does happen from time to time) but to share short messages, encouragements and prayers in order to make christian faith more relevant. It really is a good way to reach all kinds of people and many engage positively and ask questions.

I’ve also become acutely aware of the isolation experienced by those who don’t have access to social media and can’t get to church, much as they would love to. So finding ways for them to stay connected by socially distanced visits and hand delivering newsletters and sermons has become another goal to ensure in my present context. These seem like small steps but they have a massive impact on people’s lives and I would like to find ways of enabling others to connect and stay connected with the christian community.

Curacy is a time for learning, yet also listening to where the Spirit is leading for the future. I’ve been advised to seek opportunities to engage with new experiences and find out what gives me joy, what energises and interests me. These will help me to better discern where God might be leading in the future. One thing I know for sure is that nothing I’m learning, practicing or experiencing as a curate, at this COVID Pandemic time, will ever be wasted and it will all shape, strengthen and equip me into being the Priest God has made me to be 'for such a time as this.’

Revd Nicholas Quanrud, Assistant Curate at St John the Divine w St James the Apostle, Kennington, writes...

‘I am God’s wheat, and I shall be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may become the pure bread of Christ.’

So said St Ignatius, the Bishop and Martyr on whose feast day I, along with fourteen others, was admitted to the sacred order of priests at the hands of Richard, Bishop of Kingston. Tradition has it that St Ignatius, having been consecrated Bishop of Antioch a mere fifty or so years after Jesus’ death, was eventually arrested and ordered to be taken to Rome, where he would be martyred. St Ignatius was accompanied on this long journey by a band of ten soldiers whom he described as ‘leopards.’ While the journey from St John the Divine, Kennington to All Saints, Kingston can feel like something of an odyssey in itself, it doesn’t take quite as long as it takes to travel from Antioch to Rome, even if you count the obligatory stop at a greasy spoon for a fortifying bacon sandwich. Nevertheless, to have St Ignatius’ words ringing in my ears as I prepared to be entrusted with the great and holy mystery of priesthood reminded me that while such an occasion was, of course, the cause for much celebration and thanksgiving, I was, like the great martyr, being led to a type of death: the death by which Christ transforms each one of us in baptism, the death we all undergo in order to be raised to new life in Him.

Death and suffering have no doubt felt closer to us in this most strange and sorrowful of years. And yet, God is in the midst of things, comforting and sustaining us by His Spirit, and forever offering us hope of new life in Christ. It’s difficult to reflect on my time as a Deacon and not divide it into two sections: before COVID-19 and after COVID-19. I could not have imagined at Petertide 2019 that within nine months churches would be closed for public worship for the first time in over eight-hundred years. I would never have thought that I would have to sing the Exsultet, the ancient proclamation sung by the Deacon at the Easter Vigil, into the lens of a camera in my front room, and not in the beauty and splendour of a church. And yet, God is still in the midst of things. One of the great privileges of my time as a Deacon has been visiting people in their homes: in my first week as Assistant Curate I had been handed a copy of the electoral roll by the Vicar, and off I went. I have experienced extraordinary hospitality, most commonly in the form of jollof rice and rum punch; and I have been inspired by the quiet and devoted faith of the members of our congregation. This is a faith which has not wavered in these times of pandemic, but from which many have drawn the strength to persevere, something which has strengthened and encouraged me. Not being able to visit people in their homes has been a huge loss to me, and we have had to adapt and find new ways of connecting with one another. The reopening of our churches in the summer was a great comfort to many, although, for us, not being able to celebrate occasions with the requisite food, drink and fellowship remains a source of great sadness.

In a famous sermon given at the first Mass of a new priest, Father Austin Farrer asked ‘What distinctive purpose does the priest hold in the mighty purposes of God?’, he continued, ‘The answer is before your eyes. Here is a new made priest, and what does he do? He hastens to the altar: he sets forth the mystery of love, the Body and Blood of Christ in bread and wine.’ Hasten to the altar I did, as I presided at the Holy Eucharist for the first time on the evening following my ordination. What a privilege, to make Christ present to His people in the blessed sacrament, as His priests have done for two thousand years, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, at the beginning of their Christian journey or at its end. What a joy, to fulfil a longing and desire to celebrate the Eucharist, to inhabit my vocation as a priest in its fullest expression at the altar.

And yet, my ordination and first mass do not represent the end of a journey, but rather the beginning. The pandemic has shone a light like a lightning bolt on the sin of racism in our nation and around the world, made most apparent in the killing of George Floyd and subsequent protests. The gap between rich and poor has widened, evident in levels of child hunger. There is much work to be done, both inside and outside of the church. As the Bishop instructed us at the ordination, we are to tell the story of God’s love, a story which our world so desperately needs to hear.

May we, like St Ignatius, be prepared to lose everything for the sake of the gospel.

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hymn2000 · 4 years

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Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C8

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies, mentions of corporal punishment, hurt/comfort

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 8 - Yellow, Blue, Green and Grey

Peter fully expected a difficult few days to follow, but then he was woken up by the sound of his parents... being active... in the next room. He couldn’t help feeling just a little bit relieved. But more than that, he was grateful that he kept his earphones so close to his bed.

Things seemed to go back to normal for a few days. Being technically grounded, Peter stayed in, and somehow, by watching DVDs, staying off the internet, and spending a lot of time taking advantage of everything the house had to offer, he managed to completely ignore the papers and news stories still circulating about him and his family. He tried to keep himself busy, because otherwise he’d get bored and start doing strange things, which would often get him into trouble.

Peter spent Monday morning down in the challenge area of the pool. It seemed to change every time he went down there, and it was a great way to kill a few hours. It was easy to get really into it, so it was really quite a shock when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, stop screaming! It’s only me!”

“You can’t just sneak up on me like that!” Peter shouted. “I nearly wet myself!”

“Well, it’s the best place to do it: no one would be able to tell” Tony grinned.

Peter scowled and splashed him. He sat down heavily on the rock ledge, paddling his feet in the water.

“My hearts still thumping”

Tony sat down beside him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realise how hard you were concentrating”

“It’s weird seeing you down here. Especially actually in the pool, and not just on the side shouting at me”

“Aw, that’s not fair!”

“It is! You always put on that nasty coach persona and get me to do lengths and stuff, and then we always end up in an argument and usually daddy has to come down and sort everything out”

“Well, ok, maybe that’s true” Tony admitted. “...Hey, if we do decide to homeschool you, we can find you a swim team nearby. They’re not all school-based, you know: I’ve checked”

“Yeah... I don’t even like the swim team I’m a part of now” Peter said awkwardly, looking down at his hands. “I wouldn’t worry about it...”

“You’re gifted, kiddo” Tony said. “You’ve got more medals and trophies than anyone else at your school - and probably most schools. You could go professional. Olympic Swimmer Peter Stark, eh?”

Peter shook his head. Tony sighed.

“...Why did you come down here, dad?”

“Oh. I had a phone call from Dr Manning”

“Oh right. So you’ve been excluded, then?”

“No, he didn’t tell me the results - although obviously we know what they are - he just said he wants us to go in and talk to him, the whole family”

“What? Why?”

“He didn’t say”

Peter was quiet for a moment. “...What if they found something while they were doing the test, dad? What if I’ve got some weird marker that puts me at higher risk of developing some physiological condition or some illness or something, like, what if there’s something in my family history that means I’m gonna get really ill or something?!”

“Hey, hey, don’t act so worried!” Tony put his arms round Peter, hugging him close. “If there was anything nasty in your family history, you’d know about it. Shhh! Oh sweetheart, don’t cry!”

“I’m not crying!”

“What’s this then?” Tony said, dabbing at the tears on Peter’s cheek.

“Nothing...” Peter mumbled.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok” Tony said, kissing him firmly on the nose. “I’m sure it’s nothing like that. Like I said, you’d know if you were at risk of something because of your bloodline. I would too... There’s nothing in my bloodline, by the way, so don’t go worrying about that either. No, Dr Manning probably just prefers giving results face to face”

“But why has he said daddy has to go too?”

“Emotional support? I don’t know. Even though we know what the result is gonna be, it’s still a bit nerve-wracking going to the doctors. It’s not really somewhere you go for fun, is it?”

Peter shook his head slightly. “I get all nervous about it even when I know I’m going for a blood test or something simple. Or when I go to the dentist... Daddy’s good at staying calm in those situations though, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is” Tony said. “You know, I think he likes it. Even before he started at the hospital, he never seemed bothered by medical environments - quite the opposite, in fact”

“Maybe it makes him feel safe” Peter suggested. “Like, yknow, everyone being there to look after you or whatever”

“I think you’re probably right. We had some weird days early on where he was in a really bad mood, like, cross or upset or whatever, and he’d completely mellow out as soon as he was in the doctors office. He’s a strange one, your father”

“I think I’m ok with strange”

“Good, because you’re strange too. And so am I” Tony kissed his nose again. “I think we need to get out of the pool now. Go and have a shower and get dressed and get something to eat before we go out. Ok?”

“Mm... I don’t suppose I’ve got a choice, have I?”

“‘fraid not, kiddo. Come on; let’s go up the big slide and have a grand finale, ok?”

“Ok. But we can’t get to it from here, can we?”

“Sure we can! We just need to do that little puzzle first”

Peter looked back at the puzzle he’d been working on. “But that just leads to the caves, and they only lead to the fairy pool”

“That’s what you think! Jesus, Peter, I thought you’d’ve explored every nook and cranny of this place by now. Right, budge up: I’ll do this puzzle for you and then I’ll show you how to get to the big slide from the caves”

Peter watched Tony. He finished the puzzle in a matter of moments, and the hidden door in the wall opened.

“Are you sure you’re right about this?” Peter asked. “I mean, what if you’ve remembered wrong? You never really come down here”

“I designed this whole thing, remember? I know what I’m doing. Now go on”

Peter did as he was told. Tony followed after, and the hole closed behind them. Peter sat for a moment on the damp stone, looking at the uneven ceiling and the water dripping down the wall, all illuminated by the dim fairy lights dotted about. If he was quiet, he could hear the distant gentle harp music playing.

“...I like this bit” Peter said. “It’s good to come here and think. I fell asleep down here once”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was a long time ago, back when May was still alive. It was one of my weekends here. You were down in the front pool for a bit but then you had to go out, and daddy Loki was upstairs and I was tired when I reached this bit and just kinda sat down and fell asleep” Peter remembered. “I don’t know how long I was asleep for, but it was long enough to make daddy worried. He looked pretty scared when I went back upstairs after I woke up. He got a bit cross with me”

“Oh dear. What did he say?”

“I don’t really remember. Something about thinking I’d run away and that he was about to call you when I showed up. He didn’t get too angry though” Peter said. “He just tripped me up and said I needed an early night”

Tony laughed slightly. “He was always tripping you up back then. You never really seemed to mind but May went mad when she saw it happen”

“Oh yeah, she was soooo cross! She proper shouted at daddy, didn’t she?”

“She certainly did! He was a little surprised by it. Still, I suppose it had the desired effect. He stopped tripping you pretty soon after that, didn’t he?”

“Well, mostly” Peter said. “I think I had a bit of an argument with her about it cos I felt like she was overreacting. But I guess I can see why she got so angry”

“Yeah. To be honest, I never liked it either. If it had hurt or upset you I’d’ve intervened, but you usually just laughed and jumped up again”

“Yeah... You know, he’s tripped me accidentally a few times, and I’ve been hurt from that. So maybe May wasn’t really overreacting”

“I can imagine how that conversation went down” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “Right, we can’t really hang about here all day”

Peter pouted. “I like it down here”

“I know, kiddo, but we’ve got places to be”

Peter sighed, but nodded. “Can we come back down here when we get back from the doctors?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not” Tony said. “Let’s go to the slide”

“Right!”

Peter looked around the cave. He could see the pathway which led to the other caves and the fairy pool, but there was nowhere else they could go.

“Uhh... So we go down there, right?”

“Nope” Tony said. “You can get to it from here”

“How? There’s no openings or puzzles or anything!”

“Is that so? Look at these” Tony tapped a small but thick plastic panel on the ground, illuminated by a pale light under it.

Peter looked. There was a few of them, leading to the next cave.

“What about them? They’re just showing the path, aren’t they?”

“Nope. Look, all of these ones are yellow, right?”

Peter glanced at them. “Well, aside from that pink one in the middle”

“There you go, that’s your first clue”

Peter furrowed his brow and went over to the pink one. He tapped it cautiously, as though it could make the floor collapse beneath them.

“...I don’t get what I’m supposed to be doing here”

Tony smiled, moving over to be beside him. He traced the edges of the panel, and then pushed on one side of it. The panel flipped up, revealing a strange key like that of a wind up toy.

“Oh! What..?”

“Give it a twist, then!”

Peter turned the key, and there was a low rumble. Peter looked at the wall behind him.

“Umm...”

The rumble continued, and as Tony replaced the panel, a square of the wall behind them opened up.

“Alright, in you get” Tony said.

“What? No way! It’s dark in there”

Tony laughed. “Just go. Be careful though”

Peter took a deep breath, pulled himself up and climbed through the hole - and fell a good couple of feet, landing with a splash in a shallow puddle of water. As he did so, the hole in the wall closed.

“WAIT, DAD!!”

It was pitch black. Peter could hear the sound of the water, and soon the rumbling he’d heard back in the cave. He put his hands out, trying to figure out where to go, but the ceiling above where he lay was so low he couldn’t even sit up, and his senses were starting to go into overdrive.

“DAD!!!”

The hole in the wall above opened again, and Tony’s head appeared.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s ok! You’re perfectly safe”

“I don’t feel it! Where am I supposed to go? I can barely move in here and it’s all dark!”

“The low bit is only about half a metre wide, kiddo. You just need to shuffle yourself along and you’ll hit the sensor and the lights will go on in the next bit, ok? There’s a bit of a drop at the end so be ready or that”

“What if they don’t come on?!”

“They will, believe me. Get a move on, kiddo; we haven’t got all day”

Peter still felt unsure.

“Hey, sweetheart, I can’t come down to join you until you move”

Peter’s heart was thumping so hard he could feel it in his throat.

“I don’t like it. Can’t I come back up?”

“Nope: we’re going forwards, not backwards! This is the quickest way out. Start shuffling, fella. Come on; this is nowhere near as scary as a mission!”

Peter swallowed hard and did as he was told. It was awkward, but as he started moving he realised there was a lot more space than he’d originally thought, and soon a light came on to his right. He still had a little while to go, and the sound of water was getting louder. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on moving - and let out a little squeak as he slipped down a little slope and landed in a little pool filled with what looked like gold coins. He paddled further in and scooped up a handful. They were almost certainly plastic, but they looked surprisingly real.

It was a funny little round pool, only about three metres across. It was very warm, and it felt very much like being in a bowl. There were a number of shaped doors in the walls, all with little buttons beside them which Peter presumed opened them. They all had signs above them, but before Peter could read them, Tony slipped into the pool with him.

“Hey, kiddo” Tony sat up and gave him a little cuddle. “Are you alright? You seemed pretty riled back there”

“I was scared”

“You’re perfectly alright. Come on; we want this door here” Tony said, pulling himself up onto a ledge by a door marked ‘To the skies’.

“What are all these other doors?” Peter asked, looking around. “To the trees, to the seas, to the-”

“Peter, sweetheart, come on”

“Aww, I don’t wanna go to the doctors! Can’t you call him to reschedule while we stay down here and explore?”

Tony laughed. “No, sweetheart. We can come back down here some other time. Come on”

Tony held a hand out, and Peter let himself be helped up onto the ledge. Tony pressed the button to open the door, and inside was a large square slab with a thin gap round the edge.

“Umm...”

“Hey, don’t worry: you can fit three grown men on this thing, so me and you are no problem” Tony said.

“It just looks like a tiny room”

“Oh, ye of little faith” Tony said, climbing through the door and sitting down.

Peter sat close against him and Tony pressed a button inside to close the door. He pressed a button on the slab they were sat on and it started moving upwards. Peter squeaked a little.

“Oh, it’s a lift! I didn’t expect that”

“Yeah, pretty good right?”

“You know, I think this is exactly what having money is all about. This swimming pool is like a whole other world inside our house”

“I’m still pretty damn proud of it. It was horrendously expensive to make, mind you”

“I bet” Peter said. “How much does it cost to maintain?”

“Never you mind!” Tony said. “...Well, actually it’s not expensive. We’ve got the outside people who do a lot of the servicing and extra stuff to it, but it’s fitted with a hell of a lot of things that self-clean and maintain. The company has it all mapped out and they have easy access routes. They get a good wage for it, but it’s not a massive dent at all”

“Oh right. It’s all eco then”

“Pretty much. Plus Loki put some kind of weird spell on it that basically preserves it in this state. I don’t ask too many questions about his magic. There’s no way I’d understand it even if I did”

Peter nodded, and there was a ding as the slab stopped moving. The door here opened automatically. It was smaller than the one at the bottom, so they had to crawl out. Peter stood up when they were both out, surprised to find himself at the top of the big slide, but even more surprised to find that he’d just crawled out of the big metal block with the slide control panel on top.

“Oh fuck”

“Peter! Don’t swear!”

“Sorry. That’s so weird; I thought it was all just regular machiney stuff there. Wow... Well, it explains why I never noticed there was fourth way up here”

“Well, now you know. Now get yourself down the slide”

“You can go first”

Tony gave him a look. “I’m not sure I trust you not to run back into the caves when I’m halfway down. After you”

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me” Peter said, pretending to be hurt. “Alright, I’ll go first. See you at the bottom”

“I always find this a bit surreal” Peter said when Tony splashed into the front pool with him. “This bit is like any other pool. Just by looking, you can’t tell there’s so much going on back there”

“It does feel a bit like returning from another world” Tony said. “I sometimes think we need to use this more. But I guess life gets in the way”

“Yeah...”

“Alright, come on: shower time”

Peter felt pretty exhausted, but happy too, so he didn’t protest. The changing rooms and showers were just like any public swimming pool, which he pointed out.

“Why did you get these showers?” Peter asked, pressing the button again. “When you press the button they only run for about thirty seconds. These have to be the most stressful showers you can have”

Tony laughed. “No, stressful is that shower in the green bathroom that genuinely only has a one millimetre margin between boiling, just right, and freezing”

“Good job no one uses that one then” Peter said. “Hey, that’s my shower gel!”

“Well forgive me for not bringing my own down” Tony smiled. “As for your question, you’re not allowed to complain about these showers: they’re authentic and they do the job”

Peter giggled. “Whatever you say”

After they’d showered they went to get changed.

“Why do you always just put your clothes in a heap down here? Don’t they teach you anything at that expensive school?” Tony sighed. “I put pegs and towel racks down here for a reason, you know”

“Stop fussing. I’ll hang them up next time, ok?”

“You’d better do!” Tony shook his head. “Don’t be too long getting dressed, ok? We need to get you fed before we go”

Peter nodded and sauntered into his favoured cubicle. After that excursion, he was definitely ready for his lunch.

Peter had his lunch quite happily, and then promptly fell asleep on the sofa in the living room.

“Aww, he’s asleep!” Tony said. “I don’t want to wake him up”

“Well, if you fancy trying to get a coat and shoes on a sleeping teenager, and then carrying him down to the car, then that’s your prerogative” Loki said, pulling his own coat and shoes on. “We do need to get going soon”

“Yeah, I know” Tony sat down next to Peter and gave him a little shake.

Peter didn’t seem too annoyed about being woken up.

“Hey kiddo” Tony said. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok” Peter said, sitting up properly and rubbing his eyes. “Are we going now?”

“Soon, yeah” Tony said. “You should go and get your shoes and coat”

Peter nodded. “Ok”

“Good boy” Tony kissed him on the cheek. “Go on then. Don’t take too long”

Once Peter was out of the room, Tony noticed that Loki was watching him.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing”

“Don’t you ‘nothing’ me! What is it?”

“I was just watching you together” Loki said. “You’re so cute sometimes”

“Well, what can I say? He’s such a good little kid. I love him”

“I know” Loki smiled. “Any plans for when we get back?”

“Yeah, I think we’re gonna go and mess about in the pool for a bit. Would you believe there’s bits he hasn’t discovered yet? It’ll be fun. And then maybe I’ll get on to Marco about releasing a statement saying that we’ve done a DNA test and proved I’m not the natural father or whatever. I don’t know; depends how long we’re downstairs for” Tony said, wandering off in his thoughts for a moment. “...You could join us?”

“I think I’ll leave you two to it. I think it’s a good idea, especially since you’ve had quite a few arguments lately... It’s good to see you’re back to normal now”

“Mm. Thanks”

“It’s meant as a compliment, darling”

“I know” Tony stood up. “Well! I’m gonna be the one holding all of us up if I don’t go and get my stuff on! Time to get a move on”

Loki offered to drive, but Tony said it’d help calm his nerves if he had the road to focus on.

“I don’t get why I’m so nervous” Peter said, lounging in the back seat. “It’s not like we don’t know what Dr Manning’s gonna say”

“I know, chick” Tony said. “I’m mega nervous too! You know how it is, like, when your heart starts going and you feel hot and cold at the same time, and slightly shaky and slightly hollow all over?”

“That’s how I feel too” Peter said.

“It’s probably just because you know it’s a doctors surgery” Loki said calmly. “It’ll be over before you know it”

“I know, but that doesn’t help my nerves now” Peter said.

Tony reached back, squeezing Peter’s knee. “You’re alright, kiddo. You’ve got both of us with you. And like you said; it’s not like we don’t know what to expect”

Peter cuddled up close to Tony in the waiting room. Tony held him tight, stroking his hair and kissing his face and talking quietly to him. Loki leant against Tony’s shoulder on the other side and went through his messages while they were waiting to be called in.

“Can we go and get a takeaway after this?” Peter asked.

“Ooh, maybe. Depends if you’re good or not” Tony teased. “What do you fancy?”

“I don’t really know” Peter said. “I just want something hot and greasy and potentially bad for me”

Tony laughed slightly. “Good job we live in America then, fella! We’ll find you something suitably delicious and hot and unhealthy” he lowered his voice slightly. “Something daddy will totally disapprove of!”

“I heard that” Loki said.

Tony and Peter just laughed. A door opened.

“Misters and Master Stark?”

“Oop, that’s us” Tony said, giving Peter a little pat and standing up.

He took a deep breath. Those blasted nerves! Ah well. It would all be over soon.

“You know, you could have just given us the results over the phone or through an email” Tony said as they sat down in Dr Manning’s office.

“I thought it best I see you all face to face” Dr Manning said, sitting down behind his desk. “How are you today?”

“Good” Tony said, giving Peter’s hand a squeeze. “Well, we’re all a bit nervous, I think. Appointments always get my nerves going a bit, even when I know what to expect”

Dr Manning looked at the three of them: Peter in the middle, with Loki to his left and Tony to his right. Despite their fairly obvious nerves and the pressure they’d been under lately, they looked very much the picture of a happy family. Just the same as usual.

“Well, you know why you’re here” Dr Manning said, shuffling the papers on his desk. “Of course, a few days ago we took samples for a paternity test, and we’ve had to results back”

“A little sooner than expected, I must say” Loki said.

“Well, it is nearer the minimum day to the maximum, I admit”

“I didn’t realise they’d work over weekends” Loki said.

“Hey, hey, as much as I love the friendly atmosphere, can we not beat about the bush all day?” Tony said, not unkindly. “We all know why we’re here; we know what we did; we know Peter’s not my- uh, flesh and blood - so let’s just look at the proving papers, and then we can get the papers off our backs, ok?”

There was a small silence. Dr Manning picked up a letter and unfolded it. He held it out to Tony.

“You should read this”

Tony smiled slightly and shrugged. He reached forwards and took the paper from him. He cleared his throat and looked at the letter.

...An analysis of the DNA profiles of Anthony Edward Stark and Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark determines that the alleged father cannot be excluded as the biological father of the tested child. Based on the analysis, the probability of paternity is 99.99999999%.

Conclusion: Based on our analysis, it is practically proven that Mr. Anthony Stark is the biological father of the child Peter Parker-Stark...

As he read, Tony’s face fell. All of a sudden he felt hot, but as though he was breaking out in a cold sweat. He read through the letter again, and then flipped to the next page, looking at the DNA Paternity Test Report, scanning the first row: Mother (Not Tested), Child, Alleged Father; glancing at the numbers, and finding the conclusion at the bottom:

Statement of Results: The alleged father cannot be excluded as the biological father of the tested child. Based on the analysis of STR loci listed above, the probability of paternity is 99.99999999%. In conclusion, the alleged father IS the biological father of the tested child.

“Dad?”

Tony slowly raised his head and looked at Peter, almost staring at him, not knowing what to think, what to feel.

“Dad? Are you ok?”

“Tony, what’s the matter?” Loki said, recognising the look on his husbands face.

When Tony looked at him but didn’t say anything, Loki reached across and snatched the letter.

“Well, thanks doc, I’m gonna go and wait outside” Tony gabbled, hoarsely, and he stood up and rushed out of the office.

“Dad!?”

Peter wanted to run after him, but Loki put a hand out to stop him. Peter looked at Dr Manning, who was a blank-faced as a statue, and then he looked at Loki. Loki read through the letter again.

“Daddy, what is it?” Peter asked desperately, starting to feel seriously strange and shaky inside.

Loki looked at Peter, the expression on his face a toned-down version of the one Tony had had. Loki opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it without a word. Peter glanced at the letter Loki held, which was flipped to the second page. Peter grabbed it, and nobody stopped him from doing so.

He glanced at the table, but focused on the box near the bottom.

...Based on the analysis of STR loci listed above, the probability of paternity is 99.99999999%. In conclusion, the alleged father IS the biological father of the tested child.

Peter turned the page back and read the letter on the front. He looked at it in silence for a minute or two, not sure what to think, what to feel. He slowly set the letter down on Dr Manning’s desk.

“I’m sure you can understand why I wanted to see you all in person” Dr Manning said gently. “I understand this is a shock for you. Tony especially, considering... Well”

“A small part of me would love to dispute this” Loki said slowly. “But I understand how these tests work, and... I think perhaps I’m not so surprised as I should be”

Peter shot him a very uncertain look, but quickly looked away. Even without looking at the letter, he could still see those vital words before his eyes: The alleged father IS the biological father of the tested child. His brain didn’t seem to be working properly. How was he supposed to feel about this? How was he supposed to react? What did this mean, exactly? He wasn’t entirely sure how to work it out. Not on his own, anyway...

“...I want dad”

Loki took Peter’s hand, giving it a squeeze and kissing the back of it.

“Perhaps we should see each other again in a few days” Dr Manning said. “Once you’ve all had some time to adjust to this”

“Perhaps that’s a good idea... I take it we can keep that” he said, nodding toward the letter on the desk.

“Of course”

Dr Manning folded the letter and handed it to Loki, who put it carefully in his pocket. He had a feeling the rest of the day wasn’t going to be plain sailing.

Tony was waiting by the car, and he was looking somehow blank, worried and shocked all at the same time.

“Dad!” Peter rushed over to him. “Dad, what-”

Loki took him by the shoulders and moved him back.

“Hey! Dad, c-”

Loki shushed him. Tony wouldn’t look at either of them; just turned his head away, biting his thumb.

“Peter, get in the car”

“But-!”

“Don’t argue; just do as you’re told”

Peter didn’t look happy, but he sensed this wasn’t the time to argue, so he did as he was told. Once the car door was closed, Tony looked at Loki.

“You’re shaking” Loki said simply.

Tony shook his head. “...This isn’t happening”

“It is, and it has, and we know it” Loki said gently. “We just need a little time to get used to this new development. You especially”

Tony swallowed, trying hard not to give in and cry. “I don’t know what to do-!”

“You don’t have to do anything” Loki said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing to do, and certainly nothing you can do. It is what it is”

“What about now?! What am I supposed to do now?!”

“Stay calm, for a start” Loki said. “Shh, come on. Don’t shout at me for saying this, but you’re ok”

Tony didn’t say anything, but he put his hand over Loki’s on his shoulder.

“We should be getting home”

“I can’t” Tony whispered. “I can’t drive, not after...”

“Darling, you-”

“You drive!” Tony grabbed his keys and pressed them into Loki’s hand. “Please. Please, you-... Please. I can’t. I can’t”

Loki searched Tony’s face. He sighed and nodded.

“Ok”

The journey home was far from comfortable. Peter knew speaking wouldn’t be a good idea, so he curled up on the back seat and pretended to be somewhere else. Tony sat in the front, staring into space and biting his thumb and trying not to give in to tears. Loki focused on the road. Whatever he was feeling, he knew it was painfully obvious who was in the worst state right now. And he knew who was going to need the most looking after - and it wasn’t the same person.

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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gffa · 5 years

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THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG POST, BUT BEAR WITH ME BECAUSE IT’S SOMETHING I FOUND REALLY FASCINATING AND GAVE ME A LOT OF FEELINGS, BUT ALSO YOU NEED CONTEXT TO UNDERSTAND THE BIGGER WHOLE. IT’S MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT QUEEN’S SHADOW AND IT DOES IT SO WELL!! I’ve talked some about this before, about the politics of the Republic and the parallels between Padme and the Jedi, in that they were both good people trying to do their best because they cared deeply in a system of government that threw up every roadblock it could to stop them. Both the Age of Republic: Padme Amidala #1 and Queen’s Shadow show this set up very, very clearly and tie into what Star Wars Propaganda showed us about how the Clone Wars came to be and why the Separatists came to be and why it all spiraled into the hell that was the Empire and why not playing wasn’t going to win, either. I’m going to quote a lot from Queen’s Shadow because the book is a fascinating illustration of just how hard Padme tries to get something done and why she fails, why the system asked the impossible of her, and even when she could make some victories, it was not a sustainable method. As much as I enjoyed this book for being about Padme, I loved it even more for being an illustration on why things didn’t get done, despite that people were trying very hard to do so.

Senator Amidala had only a few moments to decide. She knew she was prejudiced against the Trade Federation, but she tried to think on their terms for a brief moment while she made her consideration. The route through the Lesser Plooriod Cluster had been partially mapped by the Trade Federation, but for the most part, the work had been done by the Ithorians. The humans in the Urce sector had a claim only to the portion of the route in their own space, but taken together with the Trade Federation claim, they could potentially block the Ithorians into a corner, and Padmé remembered all too well how that could end up. Ultimately, she came down on the side of the Ithorians. It was their system, after all, and they had been using the lanes before the Trade Federation claimed to have mapped them. Naboo had made the mistake of displacing their planet's native population, to their eternal shame, and Padmé was determined not to be part of such actions again. She voted in favor of the motion. "Motion fails," Palpatine announced a moment after she had pressed her selection. "The chair recognizes the member from Chandrila." A slim, red-haired human woman began to speak, and Padmé didn't have time to dwell on the failed vote. She had to move on to the new one. It felt like it went on for hours. Motions were raised and passed to various committees, or they were voted on. Even though she had done the background reading, Padmé felt like decisions—all of them stalls—were made before they dug into the heart of any particular issue. Several bills that Padmé thought were sound failed, and even more were bounced back to the bargaining table, only she didn't know when or where that bargaining took place. At last, the chime sounded again, and Chancellor Palpatine called an end to deliberations. (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

It was something of a sore point. Chancellor Palpatine's motion to increase Republic work against slavery had failed to make it to the floor for months after he had promised her he was working on it. When it was finally presented, it was so toothless that Padmé could tell it wouldn't get anything done. And then it had not received enough votes anyway and disappeared back into the committee. Padmé kept abreast of developments but stayed off the committee herself at Palpatine's request. "Naboo can't be seen as too involved, my dear," he'd reiterated when she had asked him again about joining the committee after the failed vote. "It is the price we pay for having chancellor and senator both. I am doing my best to represent your voice because I know how much this means to you, but if it becomes public knowledge that we are working together on such a potentially radical topic, I fear there will only be more obstacles thrust into our path." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"Of course," Mon Mothma said. "It is no easy task to put one's own home to the side in order to serve a greater purpose." The piece clicked into place so loudly in Padmé's head, she was worried that Organa and Mon Mothma might have actually heard her thoughts. It wasn't her inexperience, exactly, that was causing them to be so cold to her. They thought she was more loyal to Naboo than she was to the Republic, and that she wasn't up to facing that kind of conflict of interest. Indeed, her past actions in deposing Chancellor Valorum in an attempt to level the playing field against the Trade Federation showed how quick she'd been to dismiss Senate protocol. Naboo was part of who she was, but it seemed they expected her to exorcise that part, or at least isolate it, before they would fully trust her. She wasn't entirely sure she was willing to do it. (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"I suppose that's as much as any of us can hope for, these days," Bonteri said. "It just takes so long to get anything accomplished through official channels. Why haven't you sought your father's friends out?" "Because I wanted to stand on my own," Padmé said. "I am already viewed as an extension of the Chancellor by some, and I have no wish to be viewed as an extension of my father by others." "Yet you do not mind being viewed as an extension of Naboo's queen?" Bonteri asked. "I was Naboo's queen," Padmé said. "I am always going to be part of that system, though I believe I can be something more, as well." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"A senator should be able to maintain a balance," she said. "To love the world they are from but see the galaxy as a whole." "Can anyone truly do that?" Bonteri asked. "See the whole galaxy and remain objective about it?" Padmé considered her words. Bonteri was usually much more open than Mon Mothma had been, yet it was clear that Mon Mothma believed in the Republic first and foremost. What Bonteri was suggesting wasn't treasonous, but it was dangerous, and Padmé couldn't tell which side of the argument Bonteri came down on. "I think that we should try," she said at last. Bonteri drained her teacup, and Padmé couldn't tell if she had passed or failed the test. She also wasn't sure if she wanted to pass or fail the test, but Bonteri didn't look disappointed in her, so she supposed she had done well enough. "You'll have to try harder than others," Bonteri said. "You've already gone around the Senate once by displacing Chancellor Valorum and then hying off back to Naboo to solve your own problems anyway through the use of military force." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

Padmé considered what Bonteri had said while she made her way back to the residence. Some senators would prize her allegiance to Naboo, while others would distrust her for it. Some appreciated her aloof persona, while others required her to be more gregarious. And some were always going to dislike her, no matter what she did, because they believed the Trade Federation's lies about her. Her objective had not changed: rather than alter herself completely to meet the restrictions her colleagues felt were appropriate, she would forge on as she was doing. She was going to need a faction to support her at some point, but she would decide what that would be when the time came. (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"In the Senate, loyalty is a subtle and shifting thing," Organa said. "But there are certain limits." "Like attacking a sovereign planet and holding it hostage?" Padmé said. "No, wait, that is permissible so long as you can pay off your allies to vote in your favor." "Loyalty to the Republic is paramount," Organa said. He managed not to make it sound patronizing, which Padmé appreciated. "Loyalty to democracy." "And what if democracy does not return the favor?" Padmé asked. "Then you must work to restore the democratic process," Organa said. "I know the Senate didn't move quickly enough for Naboo, but your senator's nomination to chancellor stalled all discussion on every topic except that election. You can work through the proper channels." "What makes you think I won't?" Padmé asked. "Your actions as Queen of Naboo," Organa said. "Your actions now. You stay out of almost every committee, and you have no faction." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"I remember," Padmé said. She made a face like it physically pained her to continue speaking. "But I'm still hopeful the Chancellor's motion will have a better chance in its next round, and if word gets out I'm meddling on Tatooine directly, I'll be right back where I started: too much of an independent for anyone to trust. I hate having to make this kind of choice." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"I don't know why anyone ever thinks they can't trust you," Sabé said. "You're so honest it hurts." "Honestly, I think that's why they don't trust me," Padmé said. "They keep waiting for me to turn." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"You have given every evidence that you are perfect for the job," the queen said. They stepped out onto the terrace, and Padmé took a moment to enjoy the beauty of her own sun, which she had missed. "I was viewed as something of a wild card," she admitted. "Everyone in the Senate knows that I called for the replacement of Chancellor Valorum, and because my own senator replaced him, it looks like a setup. I had to distance myself from Chancellor Palpatine to prove my own autonomy, even though he has several projects that are important to me on a personal level." "It is this sort of dedication that I think makes you an excellent choice," the queen said. "The perception is that I am too loyal to Naboo," Padmé said. "I went around the Senate to liberate us from the Trade Federation. There are strange undercurrents in the Senate right now. I fear that there are those among us who are starting to doubt the effectiveness of the Republic, and I am doubly afraid that unless I take great care with my actions, I will be labeled as one of them." (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

The next three days were draining in a way that Padmé had never experienced. She thought she'd known exhaustion after the Occupation. Constantly moving to planets with different diurnal cycles and enduring the mental challenges of maintaining Sabé as her decoy for that length of time while coping with the stress of the military situation on Naboo had been the hardest things she had ever done. This was more like chasing a thread across a room that was carpeted with other threads, some of which she needed but most of which would only tie her down. It required her to pay attention to details and to move quickly, but not too quickly, lest she unravel the whole thing. [...] In the end, the Mid Rim Cooperation motion involved more than a dozen key systems, a variety of different resources, and the heads of every bloc they needed to sway in order to lure sufficient votes away from the Trade Federation. Padmé was scrambling to finish her speech as the chronometer ran down. (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

"I know this was something of an outlier, in terms of procedure," Padmé said. She had confronted a few of her feelings on the return journey. The rush of working with Clovis had faded quickly, for several reasons, and Padmé realized that the process they had used was not sustainable in the long run. Eventually, there would be no more favors to trade, and the relationships they had built in constructing the bill weren't solid or reliable enough to be worth it. But Bromlarch would survive. "I hope someday the Senate can respond swiftly to problems without resorting to fast dealings. It made me uncomfortable, and I am not in a hurry to do it again, if there is another way." "We will make that way together," Mon Mothma said as her shuttle landed across the pad. (Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston)

The thing that this book does so well is that it shows us the set-up of what a good person was facing and why there was no simple, easy answer to the problem of trying to get things done. The book shows the nigh-impossible balance that Padme is walking, that she cannot be seen as leaning too heavily on her connections to Palpatine or her father, lest she not be taken seriously or be dismissed as nepotism, that she would be accused of being another Core World Elite who didn’t actually earn her authority or power, but got it through shady connections. (And this is without psychic powers that people didn’t understand and would have accused her of abusing, if she’d had them and then tried to make a speech to get people to change their minds on an issue.) It shows that she’s inundated with a constant stream of problems and everything gets lost in the shuffle. The Tatooine problem she’s trying to solve doesn’t get addressed until four years after The Phantom Menace, nothing gets done there (even when she spends her own money to just buy people), and the sub-plot is dropped halfway through the book, because Padme’s on to other things. Even if she had gone rogue or made a bigger stink about it publicly, she would have been brushed off because she was too close to it, too involved, she would have been seen as having shady dealings. It shows that, having done around the Senate once, where she didn’t even do anything illegal or start any wars (which, let’s be real, is what exactly would have happened if the Jedi went rogue and invaded Hutt territory without Senate approval), she still paid for it for years. And that was as one of them, as a politician whose job it was to be involved in this! And they still didn’t trust her honesty, they couldn’t believe it was genuine. (Much like how this was illustrated by Drooz’s complete inability to understand why the Jedi didn’t abuse their powers and couldn’t believe they were genuine.) Eventually, Padme does find a way to accomplish a fairly major goal, she collects together a series of political favors, a web of people benefiting from different trade agreements, and manages to achieve this one thing that’s important to her! But even when she’s doing so, she understands that it’s not sustainable, that eventually favors would run out, eventually it would fall through. This also comes with the backdrop of knowledge about how we all know where this is heading, as well as we know what Padme and the other good people of the Republic do not: That the Supreme Chancellor doesn’t want democracy to prevail, he doesn’t want people to be helped or saved. We know that ultimately the Republic will fall, that Padme and Mon Mothma and Bail Organa will not find a way around fast dealings or even a way to save democracy. We know that the Jedi will not find a way to save everyone’s lives in this war. But it’s incredibly clear from this book why that is and it’s not because they didn’t care or because they were morally deficient, but instead because there were no better paths--just going rogue meant you were further behind than before, just not playing would get you accused of being a Core World Elite and people turned on you even faster, being honest and genuine made them distrust you because they couldn’t understand it and were waiting for you to turn, trying to play by the rules was the only way to make even a little progress, especially when all the other options feasibly available were far worse. This book illustrates why good people can do good things and still fail, when the system is out to get them. This book illustrates why Padme made things better than they would have been otherwise, but she couldn’t save something that didn’t want to be saved. And this book showed me so clearly how the Jedi were in similar positions, that if they had stepped away from their impartiality, they’d have gotten the same treatment Padme did, if they stepped out of the game, the Propaganda book shows us they’d have been twice as fucked, if they stepped further into politics, they’d have been accused of misusing their powers (and, frankly, organizations like them should be impartial, just like any country’s military or investigative body (even though neither of those are perfect parallels to what the Jedi are) should not be aligned with one political party over another), how someone who had actual political power as a Senator could barely keep her head above water, the Jedi (who were under the jurisdiction of the Senate, because no way was the public going to trust them without oversight of non-psychic people that they at least did somewhat understand) were in the same boat. It illustrates how complicated all of this was and that there were no easy, simple answers, especially when no one was working with all the pieces, except the one person who was trying to bring the whole thing down and had rigged it so that, no matter what she did, ultimately Padme would fail, because one person, not even a small handful of people (when there are quadrillions of people in the galaxy, even ten thousand people is nothing) could have changed that without the rest of the public getting up off their asses, something the vast majority of them had no interest in doing.

#padme amidala #jedi #jedi order #republic #mina bonteri #bail organa #mon mothma #meta #queen's shadow #queen's shadow spoilers #novels #long post

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