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firstknightss · 3 years

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its gwaincelot time

(footage of me linking this and turning incoherent thoughts to words)

so in s3 e13, we see lancelot getting slashed by one of cenred's men. since the soldier's immortal, lancelot can't kill him, but he sure can do some hefty damage to lancelot. the chainmail in the show, is shown to be quite useless ngl. it can stand some hits from swords and the like, but in the previous and further episodes, we see people being injured through the chainmail.

for arthur, his chainmail was quite steady, and the arrow that hit him in the ep before, probably hit a hole in the chain, creating a wound. but! this is arthur, the prince, and soon to be king of camelot, so obviously he has better chainmail

they were low on supplies when they minted the round table, so im assuming that whoever was wearing chainmail before, stayed in it. so arthur, percival, leon and lancelot stayed in their mail, whereas elyan and gwaine didnt and got new ones now. lancelot and percival had been living as mercenaries, which means that their supplies weren't as good as leon and arthurs. therfore lancelot and percy's armour was cheaper and lower quality

percival, of the two, is at the better objective advantage, as he's.....................tall.................so the places where his chainmail would have been the weakest (joints) was higher up, and harder to reach lancelot, on the other hand, is short as fuck. therefore his joints were lower and easier to hit leading him to get hit by the sword, in a battle which would have been pretty much a cakewalk for percival

also, we know, that the whole ordeal probably had a really bad effect on merlin, since he had to use powerful magic for a steady period of time. not to mention how tiring holding the dragon breath sword would have been. now there is no actual evidence merlin healed lancelot. (he sure could have. but for this hot take. im not gonna acknowledge it) and y'know what? fair? Merlin's gone through a LOT. and i mean a LOT. he probably had magical exhaustion another thing we know for sure, is that gwaine, however stupid u think he is, is quite competent. not only is he a really good fighter, BUT! considering he's got nobody to depend upon, and - most recently - in that slave trader situation, since he was his "best fighter", i assume he got injuries and probably fixed them himself. he's been around a Lot. therefore must. must have picked stuff up. jack of trades shit. i assume he'd be the second person you'd go for injuries, assuming merlin's incapacitated. its mostly just elimination than anything else arthur cant care for people for shit <3 gwen may be a seamistress but theres a line between sowing people up and fixing wounds. elyan may be a blacksmith, but again theres a line between mechanics and actually healing someone. leon - do u think he can heal people? look me in the Eye.

and percival. he'd be great for a mental health day, but not one for physical health ngl gaius is also there, but he straight up killed someone and he's quite old - so im gonna throw magical exhaustion at him. he did much less than merlin, but also age does add to it therefore, since the knights know gwaine is a bit of a "jack of all trades" thing, ofc they'd go to him for patchups

also ALSO reminder that gwaines one to have a proper Proper education because sure arthur has been "trained to kill since birth", and leon's probably trained to be first knight since birth. so they must have focused more on martial arts and swordmanship instead of like. actual studying.

but gwaines dad, hes probably a lower noble. so therefore, gwaine must have had more freedom to study like. whatever.

most of the medicine at that time was in LATIN. and seen as HERBAL. so gwaine could have deadass done the two subjects at school. like a latin 101 and herbology 101

now im gonna need u to hold these facts, and imagine a scenario

lancelot, probably tired as shit, a little feverish because who knows how good his shirt is under his armour, hobbling over to gwaine in camelot, after merlin and gaius r passed out

and then cut to tender scene where gwaine (who everyone thinks is like. beyond saving) softly patching up lancelot (who everyone thinks is like. the Purest)

and lancelot's like "oh gwaine!! didn't know you could do such work!!!" and gwaine's all like "ohh it's one of my MANY talents you dont know about [winkey face winky face]"

and its just shippy and cute

and also also. lancelot fevered. and gwaine offers to bunk w him. obv merlin would be a first choice, but hes. currently passed out due to exhaustion. so GWAINE it is

they dont have rooms yet so i assume they just sleep half in leons room and half in arthurs room

leons room contains lancelot and gwaine. leon very nobly offered lancelot his bed. and gwaine Jumps In like "dont mind if i do ;) "

and leons like.........okay

(leons going through somehting rn bc its hitting him that hes immortal. and he cant sleep. so he dozes off on the sofa, but NOT BEFORE looking over the two sleeping)

they wake up cuddling <3 :sparkles:

and leons like. in a very aro way. "fools"

and anyway they ride next to each other, when they get their horses the next morning. because sleeping next to another knight rlly speedruns a slow burn

tldr; i saw one scene where they rode together, therefore they must be gay

#i sure hope yall r interested #this is like gwaincelot essay 5 #i need. sleep.#gwaincelot #ill leave the details of the scenario upto you #but heres the tea #attraction at FIRST sight for these two #or first patch up #gwaine the medic is a great idea of mine and ill yell about it to anyone thatll listen #gwaine #lancelot #gwaine/lancelot #merlin #arthur #gwen #gaius #bbc merlin

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veedraws · 3 years

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Vee unsure if they're husband material but your opinion about the recently released bunny bois ? Ayerscarpe and Leon

HI ANON!!!

Interesting question!

Ayerscarpe and Leon are a little bit too “shota” for my tastes.

I’m into older and thicccc-er boys like Flamebringer, Silverash, Executor and Broca (LOL isn’t this half of the male cast???) but I have friends who like Shota characters and they are both must haves on their teams.

(If I remember correctly Ayer has a line where he makes you eat beans which is really adorable)

--------------------------------------

Now in terms of gameplay I can share more of my opinions.

Prefacing this with NO OPERATORS ARE “BAD” and if they’re husbando/waifu you should 100% use them on your main team.

Ayerscarpe

Ranged guards are already a really good subtype and to do arts damage and slow at the same time is the cherry on top.

That being said characters who can do two types of damage usually suffers from “Jack of all trades, master of none.” He can’t slow as well as a typically slower and he can’t dish out as much damage as other arts units.

Ranged guards also have beast operators who can do insane amounts of damage to the point of soloing maps (I’m definitely talking about Thorns and Silverash here). Ayerscrape has a lot of competition in that regard.

Leonhardt

Leonhardt’s skill 2 can be spammed and not only does it do massive arts damage it also lowers the opponent’s res making it easier to kill tankier enemies.

But I think what hurts him the most is his class. AOE casters.

AOE Casters are some of the highest DP costs in game with some of the slowest attack speeds. His fast charge E2 mitigates some of these issues but on most maps by the time you can deploy him the map is almost done.

AOE casters in general are best for long maps (annihilation).

This class is also made less useful by Eyja’s second skill which does massive AOE damage, has great up time, good attack speed and at a low cost of 21 DP.

HOWEVER... PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING:

I’m of the belief that Arknights is a team building game and under the right team both can shine!

I think Ayerscrape would shine on a team where magic dealers can’t be deployed such as CC restrictions or self restrictions like an all male team (I post males only challenge mode clear videos if you’re interested, it’s on my Youtube). Especially when paired with Broca. They can definitely take down high defence units.

Warfarin, Liskarm or Ptilopsis would make Leon’s skill more spammable and in the case of Warfarin also boost his attack. I do think that in general with an AOE unit of any kind it’s best to get a good DP Regen Vanguard on your team (Elysium and Myrtle). For example, I use my Executor, cost 30, on every map and it’s a DP drain. But since M3-ing my Myrtle’s skill 1 I rarely run into DP problems anymore.

At the end of the day you should play with your favourites. Waifus/husbandos over meta!!! :)

#Arknights #Leonhardt #Ayerscarpe #analysis #Anonymous

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parabellum-rpg-archive · 5 years

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Congratulations, Hyde! You’ve been accepted to play Abel Costello. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: I seriously freaked out whenever I read this. THIS WRITING IS AMAZING. Everyone, please read this perfection. - Admin V

CHARACTER DESIRED:

Abel Costello

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS:

Abel Costello was not born out of love or necessity, his father Gio whose life was devoted to the organization did not seek marriage and children to avoid a power struggle, but a close call with the police in ‘83 made him cross paths with a blue-eyed martyr. The tryst resulted in childbirth but neither parties wanted a union– Abel’s mother was smart enough to stay away but there was no denying a Costello bloodline. So what do you do with a boy whose mother had given him away to a father who never wanted a child in the first place? You make him useful. You turn him into a soldier.

He was, technically, the oldest in the latest generation of Costellos, but it meant jack shit when his father’s only ambition was to help his uncle stay on top– a noble cause, if not an excuse to spill blood. And spill blood they did, Gio and Abel made quite the pair, and for the lack of a proper father-son relationship, he made up for it with ensuring that the boy would be indispensable to the mob. If Abel really thought hard about it, squint his eyes and tilt his head in utmost concentration, it was through stern discipline and rigorous training that Gio showed his affection for his son. In truth, the man probably saw him as nothing more than another cog in the machine, and had he not shown prowess, Abel felt that he’d be tossed aside for someone else. It wasn’t enough that he was born a Costello, he needed to prove that he was worthy of the family name.

Growing up, he was tasked by his father to look after Marcel’s children discreetly, make sure they remained safe and not get into too much trouble, which was something that was easier said than done when Abel was just a kid too. Mandatory education allowed him some semblance of a normal life if normal meant partying with Chicago’s young elite on a school night. While his cousins had no problem throwing their weight around in their own little kingdom that was highschool, Abel remained in the background; he watched in quiet amusement as Ezra charmed his way in and out of everything while his knuckles willingly bled for Leon. Mia had always been troublesome, but in her recklessness, he had the most fun and thankfully, the twins were too young to be causing any real mischief. They were just like him, without a mother, and no, Cassandra did not count– just ask Mia –but like everyone else, Abel would eventually sing a different tune about the Costello matriarch. She was what he envied the most from his cousins, not the money, the prestige or the freedom to fuck up; Abel wanted the way she doted and took care of the children, wanted someone to be there for him because, despite the blood on his hands and the cold, deadly stare in his eyes, Abel was, and is still a child.

That was over twenty years ago.

As his cousins lived their lives, Abel delved deeper into the gritty side of the business. He was a quick study, eventually surpassing Gio while showing that he could be more than just someone who pulls the trigger. He was just as skilled, as knowledgeable and just as deserving to be the next in line, but Abel’s respect for Marcel and his loyalty to his cousins kept him in line. That never stopped him from rising through the ranks, and those who once doubted Abel for his youth now questioned him for another reason– what’s in it for him? Did he want a stake in the crown? Then Gio was incarcerated. It was only natural that he take over his father’s place, offering counsel to his uncle when needed, not that Marcel ever needed it much, Abel mostly agreed with how things are handled. Mostly. But between war and diplomacy, it’s not rocket science to figure out what Abel would choose.

Did Abel want more? Maybe, maybe not. But a life of crime, violence, of protecting the Costello family and making sure that they remain on top was all he’s ever known. It’s what his father drilled in his head that it had become an inside joke to some older associates that Gio loved his brother’s kids more than his own. A bad joke, but still. Watch Abel faintly curl his lips upwards, he’s a good sport, sure. Just don’t push your luck. He loved and loathed his father and Abel spent his entire life trying to live up to Gio Costello’s name, but when the saying ‘You’re just like your father’ teeter between awe and ridicule, what’s a man to do? There was no denying he had his father’s viciousness, he was old school, earning him his own following in the organization, hell, even Marcel couldn’t help but be filled with nostalgia, but that was where their similarities end. While his father had no problem killing entire families down to a helpless babe, Abel saw no point; children were spared, knowing full well that they would come after him later. It’s what kept the wheels turning, wipe them all out, then what are you left with? You gotta have something to look forward to, something to keep you on your toes, just like the shit storm that would be the Sinclair- Costello union.

WRITING SAMPLE:

New York, August 2006

His legs barely kept him steady as he stood in front of the urinal, head of dark, golden hair resting against the cold tile; he was nodding off and struggling to unbutton his jeans that an older man two urinals to his right couldn’t help but scoff. This older man was well-dressed, Italian leather on his feet and beer belly wrapped nicely in a tailored suit; rings adorned his thick fingers and a gold watch rested snugly around his wrist– a stark contrast to the boy’s zipped-up jacket and jeans combo. A teasing remark was thrown the young man’s way– he called him a lightweight –and he responded with a hum before closing his eyes to rest.

Another man emerged from one of the stalls, door slamming open and pulling the well-dressed man’s attention away from the drunk. The third man was in a hurry, foregoing basic hygiene but pulling a couple of paper towels from the dispenser before leaving as if that would fix things. The man scoffed again as he finished taking a piss, muttering something about cleanliness as he tossed his silk tie over his shoulder before turning on the faucet. Head still lowered, the blonde lingering by the urinal produced a pair of leather gloves from his jacket and leisurely put them on; no longer looking inebriated, the young man who could barely stay on his feet earlier stood waiting for the door to the men’s room to shut close.

Abel Costello listened to the movements behind him as his target took a few steps to his left and the unmistakable squish from the soap dispenser cut through the silence; the man pressed on the pump once, twice, then thrice before proceeding to furiously scrub his hands as the tall blonde silently made his way over, gloved fingers reaching for the faucet to turn it on. The man gasped, caught off guard by their proximity and Abel pulled on his tie and threw him off balance. Soapy hands failed to grab to the ledge of the sink as he clawed at his neck, he was dragged to one of the stalls, grown man kicking and screaming but his cries were drowned out by the rush of water.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Don’t you know who–” Abel gave a swift kick to the man’s throat, cutting him off, and the expensive tie that slowly choked him was stuffed inside his mouth to shut him up. The red-colored sign with the words ‘occupied’ appeared as the door was locked.

The heel of Abel’s boot connected with the man’s chest, stomping him twice before reaching over to search for a gun and dismantle it. The man was heavy-set, and the blonde groaned while he lifted him by his coat, fingers curling around bottle-dyed, jet-black hair as Abel shoved his target’s face in the toilet. He pulled the lever for the flush, following a rhythm as bejeweled fingers flailed and fought back, reaching for Abel’s arm while the man’s legs kicked whatever he could kick. But the Costello assassin was relentless, and steady hands kept the man’s mouth and nose in shallow water, drowning him until the struggling ceased.

Finally, the man’s body went limp.

Abel raised his target’s head, black hair dripping wet as he pulled out the tie that was lodged down the man’s throat to tie it around the toilet. The door was unlocked, the faucets were turned off and Abel made his way to the exit. Outside the cinema, the man who had been in a hurry to leave the men’s room earlier was smoking a cigarette.

“Is it done?” he asked without looking.

“I took care of it,” Abel answered, his voice carrying a surprising softness as he stuffed the gloves back inside his jacket. The man nodded, dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his shoe before glancing at his watch. It was eight-thirty in the evening.

“I’ll tell Gio. You fly back tomorrow morning, kid, why don’t you see the rest of the sights while you’re here,” the man instructed and he stepped off the sidewalk to hail a cab. Abel watched him leave, watched the hustle and bustle around him for a bit before making his way back inside the cinema; the 1933 version of King Kong was still playing, and if he hurried, Abel just might catch the massive beast fall from the Empire State Building.

#accepted

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cwnerd12 · 5 years

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Nye Ver’, Nye Boysia, Nye Prosi

“Nye Ver’, Nye Boysia, Nye Prosi” Wednesday sits at the bar of a fancy hotel, sipping a martini. She nervously eyes the front door. One of Silas’s advisors, Victor enters. Wednesday smiles and stands up. Victor comes over and kisses her on the cheek, “You look lovely this evening.” Wednesday: “Thank you. I was just finishing my drink, would you like one?” Victor: “No. Let’s just go up to the room.” Wednesday and Victor enter a luxe hotel room. Wednesday, “I know you want to get busy, but you’re going to have to give me a minute to get ready, all right?” Victor sighs, “You tease.” Wednesday laughs, casts a glance behind her, and says, “Just a minute.” She goes into the bathroom. Victor takes his jacket off, loosens his tie, and lays down on the bed, “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had! You paid any attention to the news?” Wednesday, in the bathroom, shimmies out of her dress, revealing fancy lingerie underneath, “Uh, yeah, I’ve heard about the bombings.” Victor: “Everyone who works for Silas now has to keep their car under 24-hour surveillance. It’s an enormous pain in the ass. Silas is screaming at everyone who enters his office. I’m in the ministry of communication, and somehow, Silas has it in his head that it’s our fault that people are supporting David Shepherd and the AFG. I’ve actually had to explain it to him, it’s not my fault that Shepherd is good-looking. He has kind eyes! How the fuck am I supposed to convince people that this good-looking kid with kind eyes is really some evil would-be tyrant?” In the bathroom, Wednesday adjusts her hair, making sure something is well-covered. Victor, “Claudia?” Wednesday turns around and exits the bathroom, “Baby, you’re a big, important man, I know, and your job is hard.” Victor: “Lookin’ at you, my job’s not the only thing that’s hard.” Wednesday saunters over to the bed. She leans over the advisor and touches his face, “You just let me make your life a little bit easier, all right?” Victor, “You always do.” Wednesday smiles, and crawls onto the bed. She straddles Victor, bends over, and kisses him. She reaches into her hair, and slips a razor blade in between her fingers. With a swift single movement, she cuts the blood vessels on one side of Victor’s throat. Victor clutches at his neck, and sees the blood on his hands, “What the fuck?!” Wednesday slashes the other side of his neck, even more blood gushing out. She hops off the bed and hurries into the bathroom. Frantically, she washes the blood off of her hands. She puts her dress back on, and grabs her purse. She pulls a can of spray paint out, and goes back over to the bed, where Victor lays dead. Wednesday sprays three golden stars over his body. She puts the can back into her purse, and leaves. Outside the hotel, she gets into a car. Driver: “You get him?” Wednesday: “Oh, christ, that felt good.” The driver hands her a stack of papers, “False ID, get you to Gath.” He starts the car. Wednesday, “I’m joining the Queens of Gilboa!” Driver, “Yeah, before you go, we have to stop somewhere.” Wednesday: “Where?” Cut to: outside a run-down warehouse, the driver and another guy shove a blindfolded, gagged, and bound spy who poisoned David into the trunk of the car, and slam the door shut. Driver gets back in the car. Wednesday: “Who the fuck is that? Are we doing kidnappings now?” Driver starts the car, “Kidnappings for ransom aren’t our thing. This bitch, she’s special. She’s a spy, went to Gath, tried to poison David.” Wednesday: “You’re kidding me.” Driver: “Yup. Gath spy network identified her, we’re just picking her up and bringing her where she needs to be.” They drive off.

Morning, Reinhardt walks through a parking garage, talking on his phone, “Victor Lyons is dead because he was a moron who loves hookers. I warned him months ago that the AFG would be recruiting prostitutes, but he didn’t listen to me.” He listens and reaches his car. He unlocks it and gets in, “Sir, I assure you, Lyons was an easy target. All we need is some basic security measures, and everything will be fine.” A bomb hidden in the car next to him goes off, and Reinhardt ducks below his window, protected by the bomb-proof steel of his car door. He sits back up, his arm injured, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead, “I’ll have to call you back, sir.”

David climbs up the front steps of the National Cathedral of Gath. At the top, Shaw and his family wait, “David! So glad you came to join us this morning!” David shakes his hand, “I’m glad to be here, sir.” Shaw, “I’d like you to meet my family. My wife, Lena.” David shakes her hand, “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Shaw, “And my sons, Michael, Fredrick, and Leon.” David shakes their hands, “Pleased to meet you.” Michael: “You’re the one who freed our hostages and blew up a Goliath.” David, “Among other things, yeah.” Shaw, “You’ll have to forgive Michael, he’s spent quite a bit of time leading his unit in battle against the Gilboan army. When he heard the news of your… escapade, he was very angry.” David laughs nervously, “Yeah, well, Gath did kind of kill my father and my brother, so I guess I can understand what it’s like to be angry.” Lena, “King Silas murdered my father!” David, “And Silas tried to kill me, so, hey, we can all agree that we don’t like Silas, right?” Shaw, “Why don’t I show you the cathedral?” Inside, David looks up at the bright stained glass windows, depicting various saints and the instruments of their martyrdom. Shaw, “Modern Gath was founded on the principals of socialism. Our great leader, Nicholas Achison, was quite wise, and he saw what happened to the legacies of Stalin and Mao, and knew that he wouldn’t have his revolution undone, so he decided that leadership of Gath would be kept within the men of the Achison family." David, "So, a monarchy.” Shaw, “No, no, no, we’re not a monarchy, leadership doesn’t automatically go to the oldest son. It just so happened that Premiere Achison only had a son and a daughter, and I married his daughter. One day, my premiership will be handed down to whichever son I believe is the most capable leader.” David, “So… who’s that gonna be?” Shaw, “I prefer not to show favoritism.” David shrugs, “Okay.” Shaw goes on, “One other way we differ from other socialist countries is that here, we embrace God, we worship Him and ask Him for guidance. Gath doesn’t have the same moral corrosion as Gilboa. I am the head of this state, but I lead for the people. I’m not swayed by the whims of the bourgeoisie the way that Silas is.” David, “You wouldn’t believe the kinds of things William Cross was able to get away with in Gilboa.” Shaw, “Do you want to be king, David?” David sighs, “That’s a really good question, sir.” Shaw, “What do you believe it is that a king should do?” David, “Not kill his own citizens, for a start.” Shaw laughs, “Being a leader isn’t easy, but it’s very rewarding, in its own way. We should join Lena and the boys. Mass is about to begin.” Cut to: David sits beside Shaw, praying along to “Our Father.” “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” David leans over to Shaw and whispers, “Deliver us from evil. That’s what a king does.”

Before the front door of HQ can even shut on him, Jack runs up to David, “We got her!” David: “Who?” Jack: “The bitch that poisoned you!”

Silas and Abner sit in Silas’s office, staring at Reinhardt, arm in a sling, forehead bandaged, with a nasty black eye and small cuts all over his face. Abner barely conceals a smirk. Reinhardt, “I’ve had combat wounds before. This is nothing. It looks much worse than it is.” Abner, “And here I thought Shepherd was much too fond of you to order an attack on you.” Silas, “Shepherd doesn’t give a fuck.” Reinhardt, “I don’t know if he gave the order to attack me specifically. It pains me to say this, but I believe all the attacks so far have been attacks of opportunity. We should be taking some more advanced security measures.” Silas, “What other news do you have?” Reinhardt, “The spy who poisoned Shepherd was reported missing this morning. She was supposed to report to the MSS building, but didn’t show up, and her apartment is empty. She isn’t responding to any messages.” Silas sighs deeply, “Is this AFG or Gath?” Reinhardt, “It could be both.” Abner, “Is there the chance it’s the work of an angry ex-boyfriend?” Reinhardt, dismissively, “Pft. No. This girl could defend herself.” Silas, “We don’t need to worry. Can either of you imagine Shepherd doing an interrogation? He’s too damn polite. He’s like a fat lazy cat that catches a mouse and then doesn’t know what to do with it.”

Gath version of the Lubyanka. David, Jack, Shay, Joel, Abby, and Asher stand on the hidden side of a one-way mirror while the spy sits handcuffed to a table on the other side. David: “So… now what do we do?” Jack: “We interrogate her.” David: “Do any of us know anything about how to interrogate a spy?” Jack: “I know a few techniques.” Shay: “I know how to cause immense amounts of pain, that’s all you need.” Abby: “She’s fucking trained, if you try torturing her, she’ll only give us false information!” Shay: “Having your head held under water is not torture.” Abby: “I have reports, study after study, all of which show that harsh interrogation techniques do not fucking work!” Shay: (childish mocking voice) “I have reports, I have studies!” Abby: “Just see how fucked we’ll be when we make a mistake because we acted on a spy telling us what we want to hear!” David rubs his eyes: “Oh my God. Asher, what do you say?” Asher: “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to tell you that torture is wrong, but I spent an afternoon cleaning up your barf because of her, so fuck that bitch.” Spy: “Are you in there blowing each other, or are you going to fucking interrogate me?” Shay: “The longer we take, the more she’s gonna know we have no idea what we’re doing.” David: “Fine. Jack, Shay, you two go ask some questions, okay?” Jack: “Give me a minute. I think I have a plan, I just… I just need to think it out.” Shay rolls her eyes and goes into the interrogation room. Joel: “David, can I talk to you in the hallway?” David follows him out into a hallway. Joel: “Do you know the history of this building?” David: “Um… it’s a police building?” Joel: “In 1965, my grandfather came to Gath from the Soviet Union on a cultural exchange. They found him carrying human rights reports on the Soviets and brought him here. The tortured him for days, and then sent him to a prison camp. He managed to escape from there and defect to Gilboa.” David: “Oh. That’s… cool, I guess?” Joel unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and shows David the “Не Верь Не Бойся Не Проси” tattoo on his collarbone, “Do you know what this means?” David: “No.” Joel: “Nye ver’, nye boysia, nye prosi. Don’t trust, don’t fear, don’t beg. It’s how you survive in a gulag. We can’t trust, fear, or beg from Gath or Shaw. You can trick yourself into thinking that just because we seem to be safe here, it means we really are safe. You can come to think that maybe things are better in Gath than they are in Gilboa, but trust me, things here are just as fucked up.” David: “Are… you familiar with Bilal?” Joel: “Bilal? He’s a fucking religious nutjob who wants to replace one brutal regime with another. But he’s not wrong about Shaw, okay?” David, exasperated, “We can’t really be an army without Gath’s help. We’d be pretty fucked without a safe place to stay.” Joel: “Yeah, I know, it’s why I didn’t say anything to you earlier. But you need to know. Shaw’s help comes with a price, and some day soon, he’s going to come asking. What are you willing to sacrifice for what we’re fighting for?” David: “I’m not even entirely sure what it is we’re fighting for. I’ve got to figure some shit out.”

In his office, Shaw speaks to his computer, “What do you want?” On his screen, William appears, “Good afternoon, Premiere Shaw. I know you aren’t terribly fond of bourgeoise scum such as myself, but since you buy plenty of my weapons, I thought I should speak with you.” Shaw, “Yes?” William: “I’m not gonna fuck around. You hate Silas. I hate Silas. I tried to overthrow Silas. Someone else who’s trying to overthrow Silas is currently a guest in your country. I believe there’s an agreement to be made here.” Shaw: “Shepherd has said he is going to be king. I know you want the crown all for yourself.” William, “It should have been mine in the first place!” Shaw: “Are you going to try to overthrow me, too?” William, “No. Why would I want to rule Gath?” Shaw: “What do you want, Mr. Cross?” William grows cold and serious, “Shepherd is going to turn on you.” Shaw grows more serious, “Why do you say that?” William: “Because he has fucking morals, and he’s going to learn about your prison camps sooner or later. I don’t give a fuck, and because of that, you can trust me.” Shaw: “What are you trying to do?” William: “Overthrow Silas and get my crown! I believe that David can help me do that, but I need your help to help me help Shepherd.” Shaw: “So what do you want?” William: “The deets on Shepherd. What he does, where he goes, the people he’s with.” Shaw: “Right now, I believe he’s at our police headquarters. Something about the person who poisoned him.” William: “He was poisoned?!” Shaw: “Prince Jack recognized it right away and acted quickly.” William: “I need to know this!” Shaw: “Very well, I’ll stay in touch with you, then.” William: “You need to keep Shepherd loyal to you.” Shaw: “And how am I going to do that?” William: “Offer autonomy to the borderlands. That’s his home, he’s not going to say no.” Shaw: “I can’t undermine my own authority.” William: “How badly do you want to see Silas gone? Because if Shepherd remains loyal to you, you can use him to fight Silas.” Shaw: “I just ended a war. I vowed that I would protect the peace, and I will continue to do that!” William, smarmy and sarcastic, “Oh, will you? Because I promise you, Silas is gearing up for another war. It would be a shame if he should declare one and Gath should suddenly not have any weapons with which to defend itself. There’s gonna be another war, and with Shepherd on your side, you can fuckin’ win.” Shaw sighs heavily, “I’ll think about it.” William: “Also, if you’ve got one Gilboan spy in Gath, there’s more. If I were you, I’d get that spy to talk.” Shaw, “Thank you, Mr. Cross.”

David goes back into the room beside the interrogation room. On the other side of the mirror, Shay holds they spy’s head down in a bucket of water. David: “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He leans into the microphone, “Knock it off, will you?!” Shay lets go of the spy, who comes up sputtering, but laughing. Spy: “Whoo! That was fun! Just like going to the waterpark when I was a kid!” David: “Shay, would you come here, please?” Spy: “Shepherd’s here?! Yeah, I recognize your voice! How’d you enjoy the shake?!” Shay leaves the interrogation room and joins David and the others. Shay: “Does anyone else have a fucking plan?!” Jack: “I do.” Jack goes into the interrogation room. Spy: “Ooooh! I get the prince! Nice!” Jack: “You shoulda tried something other than aconite, I’ve seen it a million times and recognized it right away. I personally would have gone with ricin. Slower acting, starts out like the flu, probably woulda just thought David was sick and wouldn’t have pinned it on the diner.” Spy: “I don’t have that kind of patience. I’m a kill-em-quick kinda girl.” Jack: “Too bad. Because your fuckup landed you here.” Jack sits down: “Look, I get it, you’re a professional. I’ve seen our spy training program up close, so I know what it’s like, and I know the old head in a bucket trick isn’t going to work on you.” Spy: “And now you’re onto the good cop part of the interrogation, right?” Jack: “Do you believe in God?” Spy: “What?” Jack: “My dad says God is on his side, King Shaw says God is on his side, a lot of people say God is on David’s side. Seems like a good place to start when getting to know you.” Spy: “I believe in God. I accept Jesus Christ as my personal lord and savior.” Jack: “Okay,” He tries to say more but Spy cuts him off, “And I hold that there is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his messenger! I’ll believe whatever the fuck you want me to believe, buddy! I know you’re trying to be my friend. And I know exactly what you want from me. Who am I? How did I get to Gath? Are there others like me? What are they planning? So don’t expect me to tell you any of that.” Jack smirks, “Do you want some coffee?” Spy makes a curious face, but smiles, “Sure. Anything that’ll make this go faster. Four sugars, no cream.” Jack turns around, “David, go get our guest some coffee.” David looks on, surprised. Jack: “Seriously, go get her some!” David goes and fetches a cup. He goes into the interrogation room. Spy, sarcastic: “Oh my god, it’s David Shepherd! I can’t believe I get to meet him!” She drinks her coffee, “You were so fucking easy to find. You go to the same diner and eat the same shit almost every day. Seriously my job shouldn’t be this easy!” Jack: “How’s the coffee?” Spy: “The coffee in this country tastes like shit.” Jack: “It’s not the coffee that tastes like shit, it’s the ten milligrams of ricin that David put in there.” The spy sits coffee all over the table. Jack laughs: “Just kidding. You’ll be fine. Maybe. You should be more careful when making your assumptions about us.” He gets up and leaves, and David follows. In the observation room, Shaw is waiting for them. David, “Uh, hello, sir, we’re just trying to talk to this spy.” Shaw: “Have you gotten anything?” Jack: “No. In Gilboa, the spies have these fucked up loyalty tests, it basically makes sure they won’t say shit under sudden duress. I think I can get her to talk to us, but it’s gonna take time.” Shaw: “That won’t do. If Silas has a spy network in Gath, I need to know as soon as possible.” Jack: “I think I can get some real answers from her, but I’m gonna need more than an afternoon. It could take weeks, months even.” Shaw: “If you can’t get get me answers right now, I’m sending my professionals in.” Jack: “No, you don’t have to!” Shaw leaves. David: “Shit!” David rushes into the interrogation room, panicked, and speaks to the spy, “Look, Shaw is bringing his men in, and if you want us to be the ones dealing with you, you need to give us some answers, now!” Spy: “Fuck you, Shepherd! I know psychological pressure when I see it!” Two uniformed Gath officers enter behind David, one carrying an ominous-looking case that he sets on the desk. David: “Just tell us one thing!” Spy: “FUCK YOU!” One of the officers says, “Would you please leave the room, Captain Shepherd?” Spy: “Yeah, Captain Shepherd, we don’t need you any more!” David, with a defeated sigh: “Please, just tell them what you know.” David leaves. As the door closes, one of the officers open the case, and takes out a power drill. The two officers both look at the spy, and fear comes into the spy’s eyes. In the observation room, David and the others look on in wordless horror. David has to look away, “Do we have to stay here?” Abby, shaking: “This is in violation of so many international laws!” Joel: “International laws don’t mean shit in Gath.” David: “Seriously, if we don’t have to be here, I’m leaving.” He stands up, and the others follow him. Out in the hallway, Shaw stops David, “Can I speak with you privately once more?” David looks at the others, “I’ll catch up with you.” The others leave, and David turns to Shaw, “What do you want?” Shaw: “I’ve come to appreciate how valuable your allyship has been to Gath. I don’t want to let it go unpaid. If you continue to help us, David, I’m willing to offer autonomy to the borderlands.”

#Kings

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jbharrisauthor · 6 years

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Episode 1 - Timing is Anything - Chapter Six

Read Chapter One here

Read Chapter Two here

Read Chapter Three here

Read Chapter Four here

Read Chapter Five here

Ianto clenched his fists as the door opened and five people stepped into the room; three men and two women, including the couple they’d met earlier who’d invited them to the ceremony.

Usually when he went out with Torchwood, he had a gun on him. Right now, he was wishing they had even one weapon between them to protect themselves against what had turned out to be a crazy drugged-out cult of people who liked to kill themselves.

The Doctor pulled out her sonic screwdriver and pointed it like a gun. What was she going to do, threaten to remove all the screws in the vicinity so their furniture fell apart next time they sat on it? Or did the device actually have a maim and/or kill setting he didn’t know about?

“Now, listen here you lot.” The Doctor’s announcement made the five of them pause at least. “Whatever you think is going on in this place with your happy-incense and your frankly stupid unification ceremonies, I’m telling you it’s not what you think. You’re being used by an ancient race who don’t care one whit about you.”

A few of the people exchanged glances, but it didn’t look like The Doctor was convincing them of anything.

“Think of the scariest thing you can imagine, and then multiply it by ten. That’s who is behind all this. If they’re coming because we destroyed their quantum laser, then the smartest thing you can do, the only thing you can do, is run as far and fast as you can.”

“Lies.” One of the women said. “Who sent you here to destroy us?”

“No one sent us.” Ianto shifted forward, closer to stand by The Doctor’s shoulder. “We came to help you.”

“You were right, Leon,” one of the men said. “He does look like Ianto Jones.”

“That’s because I am Ianto Jones.” Frustration rippled through him. He’d had enough of this situation.

These people didn’t have a clue about reality, and right now, they were the one thing standing between him and getting home to Jack.

“If you won’t listen to The Doctor, then listen to me. This ends now, this whole insane cult. Go home and find some other meaning in your life, because this is all emptiness. None of it is real. You’re puppets for something you can’t begin to understand. Hell, I don’t even understand it. But if the Doctor says run, then you should run. And hope to God whatever it is doesn’t ever catch up with you.”

The girl who’d tried to kiss him earlier drifted forward, eyes wide in awe. “Leon, it’s really him. It’s a miracle.”

“I’m not a miracle,” he snapped. He was weak, he’d made terrible mistakes, hurt the people he loved the most, once come so close to taking his own life, he still wasn’t sure how he’d survived the night. He was a fraud. The last person anyone should build a shrine to.

“I was brought here through technology, not by some mystical means. Now I’m telling you, let The Doctor and I go, and leave this place, before it’s too late for all of us.”

“It’s a trick,” Leon announced in a loud voice, obviously trying to convince the others. “Some kind of test of faith. He destroyed our unification altar. The real Ianto Jones wouldn’t have done that.”

A few of them murmured their agreements.

“The Enlightened Ones demanded cleansing for their crime,” Leon continued. “They will be immersed in the blessed waters, as we were instructed to do.”

Two of the men came forward and grabbed them.

“Immersed in water? That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said in a hopeful tone as their hands were bound in front of them.

“You did not just say that.” The Doctor cast him an unimpressed look. “It’s never just water, Ianto. Believe me.”

They were marched from the room, and this time when they reached the end of the corridor, instead of going up to the balcony, they took another door opening onto a set of steps going down, underground.

“See?” she told him in a chiding voice. “When they take you down to a cellar, it never ends well.”

He didn’t reply, but he did roll his eyes at her.

“Sass,” she muttered, except she sounded more amused about it than annoyed.

As they went further down, the atmosphere became humid, while a subtle sharp scent laced the air. The Doctor inhaled deeply, as if she was trying to figure out what she was smelling. By the time they reached the bottom where it opened into a natural stone cavern, he was pretty sure The Doctor had been right and the answer definitely wasn’t just water.

He stopped, apprehension tightening his stomach as his gaze fixed on the large central pool where a white vapour was drifting off the top of the liquid.

“Is that—”

“Acid,” she supplied with false cheer when he didn’t finish. “Natural acid springs.”

“Over here.” One the men who’d led them down the steps shuffled them to the side and then forced them to sit against the wall. “You will be silent while we prepare you for cleansing.”

“Like hell—” He started to get up again, but the guy punched him in the midsection, leaving him wheezing. He dropped back down next to The Doctor, stomach hurting.

She leaned into him as the man turned away to watch the others who’d gathered around the stone edge of the acid pool to light candles.

“I’ll get us out of this, okay? Just don’t draw any more attention to yourself.”

“So you have a plan?” His voice came out a little hoarse from the ache in his abdomen.

“Well, not exactly. But I usually figure something out.”

“Usually?”

She sent him an impatient frown. “I’m not perfect, I can’t always think of everything.”

He leaned his head back against the wall. “Now I know what Jack meant when he said if you ever turned up, it was sure to be a very bad day.”

She cut him an indignant look. “Excuse me, but I don’t think Captain Jack Harkness can talk. He makes plenty of his own trouble.”

“I prefer his kind of trouble,” he muttered, wishing Jack was here for the first time since he’d been dragged on this insane trip with The Doctor.

The people over by the acid springs lit up sticks of incense when they were finished with the candles, inhaling over them deeply.

“Fantastic,” he commented, heavy on the sarcasm. “They’re getting more high than they already were.”

“Which will probably make it easier for us to escape from them, since we’re not,” The Doctor shot back.

He’d forgotten about taking that capsule before they’d come in here. Lucky, or he would have been out of his head by now. “How long will that will last for?”

“Your guess is as good a mine.” The Doctor shrugged. “A few hours, or an entire day. I can’t say I’ve ever had to make anti-acid-trip medication before today.”

The girl who’d been so awestruck about him earlier drifted over, holding one of the incense sticks.

“Here, Hextor, you join the others, I’ll watch them.”

The young man smiled and took the incense from her, heading over to the three by the acid pools. He’d barely walked off when the girl came over and sat on his lap. And since he was tied up, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. This just kept getting better.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” She took his face between her hands. “Will you bless me?”

He jerked his head back from her grasp. “I told you before, I’m not anyone special. I’m just a guy from the 21st century who happens to make amazing coffee.”

“Amazing?” The Doctor interjected, scepticism clear in her voice.

“Yes, amazing. And I want to get back to making coffee in the 21st century.” He held up his bound hands in front of the girl. “So if you could just let me go?”

She frowned, not happy, but seemed to be considering it. “If I let you go, will you bless me?”

“Of course I bloody—”

The Doctor elbowed him, cutting off his words.

“He would love to. A bit hard to give someone a blessing with your hands tied up, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes!” She shifted off his lap to kneel next to him. Thank God.

He held out his hands and let her tug the knots, but unfortunately her fingers weren’t exactly coordinated; no doubt from all the incense she’d inhaled. He kept glancing toward the others over by the acid pool, worried they were going to turn around any second now and see what was going on.

Once the rope was loose enough, he took over, unravelling it from around his wrists. He turned to The Doctor, but the girl grabbed his arm, almost pulling him off balance.

“My blessing?”

He glared at The Doctor. This had been her idea after all.

The Doctor motioned with her tied hands, clearly fighting a grin. “Go on, bless the poor girl.”

He couldn’t ever remember feeling more awkward about anything in his life, but he turned to the girl, no idea what to do or say.

“Um… I, Ianto Jones, bless thee—” He stopped since he didn’t know what her name was.

“Linlea,” the girl supplied eagerly.

“I bless thee Linlea. Now go on your way. In peace.” He waved his hands over her in a vague motion.

“And love?” she added hopefully.

“Peace and love. Now off you go.” He gave her a gentle nudge, not-so-subtly trying to get her to move faster.

Instead she grabbed his hand and kissed the backs of his knuckles. “Thank you. Oh, thank you!”

He extracted his hand from her grasp with a grimace, while behind him, it sounded suspiciously like The Doctor was trying to smother her laughter.

Finally, Linlea let him go and returned to the others, who were so high, they didn’t seem to notice that no one was guarding them any longer.

He untied the knots and tugged the rope free, and then helped The Doctor to her feet. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key, holding it up for him.

“Here, take this.”

“What is it?” he asked as he took it in his fingers and then closed it into his fist.

“The key to the TARDIS. Run as fast as you can and don’t stop until you get back.”

“I’m not leaving without you.” Not after all this. He couldn’t leave her to face The Timeless on her own, not after the haunted look she’d gotten in her eyes when she’d talked about them. He knew that look, it was one he’d seen in the mirror occasionally. When the dark things inside you were so terrifying, even shedding the tiniest ray of light on them risked unravelling your mind.

“I’m not staying, believe me. But I promised I’d take down that shrine, and I don’t plan on breaking any of the promises I made you, Ianto Jones.”

He wanted to tell her not to worry about it, that they should just get back to the TARDIS and forget they’d even been here. But he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep at night when he got home, knowing the shrine was still out there somewhere.

“Let me help you. We’ll take it down together.”

She took his arm, and together they sidled along the wall until they reached the door. Once they hit the stairs, they ran, not worrying about being seen anymore.

At the top of the steps, The Doctor paused. “Go back to the TARDIS, Ianto. I’ll be right behind you.”

He hesitated, and she settled a firm look on him. “Don’t make me bring Jack into this.”

“Okay, okay.” He held up both hands in surrender. “But if you’re not in the TARDIS in ten minutes, I’m coming back here to find you.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Jones.” She saluted him with a wide grin and the truth of it all hit him.

“You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“You’re not?” she asked, a knowing spark in her eyes.

A few years ago, he would have replied with an emphatic no. He’d told Tosh once that he didn’t get it; the addiction to the adrenaline rush, the look the team all got on their faces when they went out in the field and stood up against danger and death. But after a few missions with Jack, he’d finally started to understand. So yes, it was insane and there’d been a few moments when he’d questioned whether they were going to get out of this mess in one piece. But, bloody hell, part of him did enjoy it.

“I’ll see you back at the TARDIS,” he told her instead of replying to her question.

She nodded and then hurried along the corridor toward his shrine room. When she’d disappeared, he checked the way was clear and started creeping quickly along hallway. He was almost to the main doors at the front of the building and thinking he was actually going to get out without being seen when a door on his left suddenly swung open and a man sauntered out into his path.

He skidded to a halt, unable to believe his eyes. No way.

“Well, hello there, eye-candy. Long time no see.”

Read Chapter Seven here

#fanfiction #torchwood #ianto jones #captain jack harkness #doctor who #13th doctor #torchwood au #doctor who au #ao3 #tardis #crossover fic #ianto jones x 13th doctor

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conflictcrafter · 4 years

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The Humanity of Lord of War

when you make an artwork, you have to figure out your role. being the maker of something is the surface role. and it is necessary. the next step is to pick a shovel and dig. or mine.

we do not determine roles for the heck of it. we do it because it is both the goal and the core. the goal, the core, and the means should align. and when things are in order, beauty emerges, organically, even when the surface looks chaotic.

Andrew Niccol knew what his roles are in Lord of War. one of them is to explore an inquiry: what does it mean to be human?

this question has been explored in many punk films. Ridley Scott and Philip K Dick's Blade Runner films comes to mind. George Miller has also examined the question specially well in the recent Mad Max: Fury Road. these films put humanity in future punks, in a certain point in post-humanity, to hammer the question down.

Lord of War doesnt play with punks (we can call it presentpunk though). the historical events and the political conditions depicted in the film still ring bells. theoretically, the question is easier to grasp since it's set categorically in the present. this film, again, is not a punk where this question of humanity is often explored. but this is why literature or film is so beautiful: narrative elements, in this case the setting, bare different ways to answer the same query. also, familiar settings may bring out the most outlandish of answers.

What does it mean to be human 1: Beware of The Dog

Yuri (Nick Cage), after making his first gun trade, approaches his younger brother Vitaly (Jared Leto) who cooks in their Jewish family restaurant. while Yuri convinces Vi to be his gun trade partner, Yuri notices a poster in the kitchen that says: Beware of The Dog. "We dont have a dog (also why you put that in the kitchen?)," said Yuri. to which Vi responded:

"To remind myself to beware of the dog in me. The dog in me who wants to fuck everything that moves, fight and kill weaker dogs. I guess it's a . . . to remind me to be more human."

halfway through the film, Vi succumbs into cocaine addiction due to Yuri's involvement in his life. it was as though the film was telling us that Vi is indeed a dog. running and fucking around.

but when Vi finally met "a girlfriend," he changes and leaves the cocaine. Yuri comes back into his life and convinces him again to be his partner. in a deal in Sierra Leone, Vi, now sober, witnessed the bloody effects of illegal gun trade to African civilians.

in an effort to sabotage the deal and potentially save innocent people, Vi is able to blow half of the arms and is consequently killed by the warlords.

Vi dies a martyr. loyal dogs die as martyrs. martyrs transcend humanity.

What does it mean to be human 2: I Won’t Fail as a Human Being

Yuri returns home to his wife Ava Fontaine (Bridget Moynahan) who now knows about her husband's illegal gunrunning business.

Ava is informed by idealistic Interpol agent Jack Valentine (Ethan Hawke) of her husband's illegal arms activities. he reminds Ava that her parents were gunned by people who got their guns illegally from arms dealers like Yuri.

later that evening, Yuri comes home to a naked wife, unable to wear her silk sleeping dress, unable to lie on their bed, because to her, "Everything’s got blood on it."

she confronted Yuri and he finally confessed to his wife his real occupation. she tells Yuri to stop it since they have enough. but Yuri said he couldnt just quit because it isnt about the money. it is what he is good at.

Ava tells her husband that she "is a failed actress, a failed artist. But she doesnt fail to be human."

while Yuri feels that being human means getting one's dreams, having a lucrative lifestyle, proving to other humans that one is the best; for Ava though, humanity is as simple as not inflicting harm to other human beings.

What does it mean to be human 3: The Reptile Tail

after being confronted by Ava and Vi, Yuri finally decides to go legit. suddenly, he is not an arms dealer anymore, and he got agents confused.

this is the part of the film that youd wish the main character has truly changed, with all the things and relationships he has at stake, youd want the main character to change. Niccol teases us that, that narrative relief. but if you know how plot works, you know Yuri hasnt reached that ultimate fall.

so after going legit, he is pulled back into the arms dealing business by the self-proclaimed president of Liberia, Andre Baptise.

you would want to feel that Yuri would be doing it forcibly in fear for his family's safety. but no. when the scene with him and the Andre cuts, we hear Yuri:

"At four and a half months old, a human fetus has a reptile's tail—a remnant of our evolution. Maybe that is why I could't escape. You can fight a lot of enemies and survive. But if you fight your biology, you will always lose."

Yuri's biological mumbling here is based on the evolutionary development studies of Ernst Haeckel (1834-1919) which theorizes that embryonic stages of development reflect the previous adult evolutionary forms of the specie (ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny).

Yuri is basically saying that since humans were previously non-humans, reflected by having actual tails while developing in the womb, humans will always go back in to behaving as animals. and that we can never fight it.

Yuri is wrong. for starters, Haeckel's hypothesis, the Recapitulation Theory, is long defunct.

while embryos have "tails," this does not represent the evolutionary process of a specie.

we don't have embryonic tails because thats how we evolved. we just had tails. that's just it.

thus, we are not echoes of a long evolution of reptiles. and what Yuri is telling himself is merely a rationalization defense mechanism to justify his illegal arms dealing.

and it's completely human to rationalize immoral behavior.

in insisting biology and in exercising rationalization, Yuri has perfectly demonstrated the frailty of human beings: giving intellectual justifications to humans' animalistic tendencies. Yuri has satisfied the id in booming his ego.

but being human isnt only about rationalizing.

being human also means thinking about the welfare of other human beings.

Yuri has become, if not the best, one of the bests in illegal arms dealing. in essence, he has become a superpower in the trade. but Yuri, in Nietzsche's eyes is far from being an Ubermensch.

in Kant's eyes, Yuri has trampled the categorical imperative.

in our eyes, Yuri is not a hero.

and this is what makes him human: his acceptance of life's dramatic irony. he knows, he sees, he "appreciates" the negative implications of what he does, and what's coming. yet he still does it. he is helplessly and happily trapped like all of us.

II.

although we follow closely the life of Yuri, in a "story" perspective, it's Vitaly that ultimately follows the heroic arc. Vitaly is the proxy hero to Yuri, Yuri doesnt undergo metamorphosis. but Vitaly does.

hence the film is a character study of how a human being can become a monster: by allowing and being part of something that is systematically bad and irreversible.

Niccol illustrates the monstrosity of Yuri not by making the character violent. he ingeniously does it by portraying Yuri as a kind and generous person who often describes and treats the people who are really close to him well. he, in his monologues, talks a great deal about them in good terms. yet he never talks about himself in such way. in fact, he never talks about himself at all.

and this where NIccol's genius comes: he makes Yuri seamlessly not talk about himself because in truth, Yuri hates himself. and a monster is a monster is he hates himself.

in the end, nothing is solved. what wins is the human basal instinct to harm others and at the same time, be detached from it. more than a narrative work, the film is a challenge:

how much humanity are we willing to let go to feel human?

III.

the film has managed to be an artwork that also talks about important world issues. and if there is something that an artist should takeaway from the viewing, it should be seeing how art and function can go together neatly.

the only failure of the film, albeit minor, is despite the great research that the creative production team has gone through to parallel real events, it fell short in interpreting Interpol's function properly. Interpol doesnt at all conduct arrests.

aside from that, Lord of War is a solid 9/10 for its take on the question of humanity.

_____ non-film image sources in order of appearance: 1. https://image.slidesharecdn.com/defensemechanism-160520104849/95/defense-mechanism-40-638.jpg?cb=1463741864

2. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/30/22/3b/30223b65bc57c735199209472b57c0b3.jpg

3. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c0/16/e2/c016e21b69049ab2c7a02caa1bd9e24d.jpg

#Lord of War #Andrew NIccol #kant #nietzsche #ubermensch #categorical imperative #freud #rationalization #defense mechanism #human #humanity

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flauntpage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: Phil Kessel. Good lord. This isn't Kessel dunking on the haters. This is him dunking on them, shattering the backboard, tearing off the rim, and then using that rim to teach cute little hoop-jumping tricks to their puppy, which immediately follows Kessel home because it loves him more now.

The second star: Phil Kessel. Look, the whole "Phil Kessel eats too many hot dogs" thing has been done to death, as has the backlash and then the backlash to the backlash. But this is next-level stuff. Seriously, take a minute to appreciate what's happening here.

The first star: Phil Kessel. He went and took the one thing that's come to symbolize everything the critics, cynics, and bullies have ever thrown at him and literally ate it out of the greatest accomplishment you can achieve in his line of work. Then he took a photo of it. Then he went back and took a better photo of it. Phil Kessel wins. Again.

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The issue: The Edmonton Oilers' Leon Draisaitl finally signed his contract extension this week, locking in for the maximum eight years on a deal that totals $68 million and carries a cap hit of $8.5 million.

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

Is it justified: Yes. Draisaitl is a very good player, but he's not some sort of generational talent like teammate Connor McDavid. That means we have plenty of similar players we can use to determine fair value for a comparable situation, and by virtually all of those measures this contract is way too high. The deal the Oilers signed was well above what even their most loyal fans were projecting as fair value.

Remember, this is just Draisaitl's second contract—he wasn't eligible for unrestricted free agency for four more years, so aside from the longshot chance of an offer sheet, he really had no leverage here. Other players who recently received monster contracts, like Patrick Kane, Carey Price, Steven Stamkos, or Anze Kopitar, were all within a year of UFA status, meaning they could plausibly threaten to walk away from their teams for nothing. Draisaitl was years away from that kind of negotiating power, but the Oilers panicked and paid him top dollar anyway.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn't.

When you're going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL has a well-established system for paying star players. You work cheap on your entry deal, you get a better number on your second (and maybe third) contracts, and then you get the big bucks once you're nearing your UFA years. That system is fundamentally broken. It doesn't make any sense to pay top dollar to guys who are in their late 20s—those players are already past their prime. Most forwards, for example, have their most productive years between the ages of 22 and 25. It doesn't make any sense that players are expected to play at a steep discount during those seasons and then make it back years later when they're already in decline.

So what the Oilers are doing here makes sense. Unlike the Kane or Kopitar deals, they're actually paying top dollar for their player's best seasons. (Presumably, of course. We can never know for sure how a player's aging curve will play out, but as far as projections go, it's the most likely scenario.)

So which is it? Did the Oilers screw up because they overpaid based on how the market operates? Or did they get it right because they paid a fair price based on how the market should operate? It can't be both.

But right now, it kind of is both. That's because we don't know what kind of impact, if any, Draisaitl's signing will have on the way teams think about these deals. It's the kind of contract that could shift the market, leading other teams to pay top dollar to stars just entering their prime while shifting money away from older players approaching UFA status. If that happens, the Oilers will look like they were ahead of the curve, and Draisaitl's deal will probably turn out to represent decent value.

On the other hand, maybe the league shrugs and goes back to the old way of doing things. If that happens, the Oilers will have missed out on an opportunity to exploit a market inefficiency. Even if Draisaitl plays well enough that the deal represents fair value, it will still be a bad contract because the market dictates that he should have been underpaid.

Right now, we just don't know. It's Schrodinger's contract. But with Jack Eichel still waiting on an extension and Auston Matthews up for one next summer, we probably won't have to wait long to find out.

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Recently, we found out that USA Hockey's development program will be making a fairly substantial rule change for players ages 14 and under. Starting this season, teams will no longer be allowed to ice the puck when killing a penalty. Doing so will now be treated as regular icing, with a face-off in the defensive zone. The move is meant to encourage young players to think through situations and handle the puck rather than just automatically flinging it down the ice.

It's a smart change, one that will hopefully encourage a little more creativity in a sport that so often lacks it. Youth hockey is all about having fun and learning, after all, and playing with the puck on your stick instead of reflexively dumping it down the ice serves both those ends. So kudos to USA Hockey for the change.

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

"I volunteer." Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Not immediately, of course, but is this something that the pros should be looking at doing someday? After all, it seems odd to penalize a team for an infraction but then give it a special set of rules that makes the game easier. If we're trying to increase scoring—and we should be—then a reasonably simple rule change to make it tougher to kill off a penalty seems like low-hanging fruit.

On the surface, it makes sense, but there are two problems with the concept. Let's start with the obvious issue, one pointed out by at least one former NHLer: Most teams would probably just keep icing the puck anyway.

Today's coaches are relentlessly conservative. It's not hard to imagine them deciding that killing off 10 or 15 seconds of a two-minute minor is worth an occasional face-off in their own end. Sure, players would try to execute a 180-foot flip that would fall just short of the icing line, but coaches would probably be fine with taking the icing a man down, just as an increasing number of teams seem fine with it late in the game when the other team has its goalie pulled. And that would mean fans being treated to more whistles, more milling around the face-off circle, and less momentum.

The other issue is one that I've raised before: Efforts to increase scoring should be focused on changes that will help at five-on-five, too. That's how most of the game is played, and we don't want to train fans to sit around and wait for powerplays. There's also the risk that officials who've been told for years not to decide a game will be even more reluctant to call penalties if they know that powerplays are more effective. It would likely be a small influence, but it could be enough to cancel out most of the offensive gains we'd otherwise see.

None of that means the NHL shouldn't explore making the change. Maybe they will someday. But it's not the slam dunk it should be for youth hockey, because in the NHL, the law of unintended consequences is always waiting just around the corner.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week's obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we'll get to that in a bit.

Brown was a Boston College star who went undrafted before signing with the New Jersey Devils in 1986. He got a quick look in the NHL that year, and then made the full-time roster for the 1987-88 season, scoring 14 goals as a rookie and earning one second-place vote for the Calder Trophy. That lone vote left him tied with Ulf Dahlen for sixth, just slightly behind 51-goal-scorer Joe Nieuwendyk.

Brown was a useful piece for the Devils until 1993, when he signed with the Penguins as a free agent and got to play with his younger brother Greg. Like everyone else in the Mario Lemieux era, he had the best offensive season of his career in Pittsburgh, putting up 55 points. It wasn't enough to keep him out of the following year's waiver draft, where the Detroit Red Wings grabbed him.

He spent the last seven years of his career in Detroit, although the Predators did take him in the 1998 expansion draft before immediately trading him back to the Red Wings. He was part of two Stanley Cup winners before hanging his skates up in 2001.

As far as career highlights go, well, he scored the first playoff overtime goal in Devils' history in 1988, and had two goals in the Red Wings' Cup-clinching win in 1998. But let's face it, none of those come close to being the best Doug Brown videos you can find on YouTube. Meet me in the next section.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

It's tough time for the New Jersey Devils these days. The team is rebuilding. The team is rebuilding, they finished 27th last year, they may not be all that much better this year, and they just found out that Travis Zajac will miss a big chunk of the season. But hey, New Jersey fans can always look back on the glory days. No, not the three Stanley Cups. I mean the time the Devils were on General Hospital.

Yes, that actually happened. I'm sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let's watch.

This clip appears to be from 1989. The Devils were coming off of their first ever playoff appearance a year earlier, one that involved dramatic overtime heroics and also referees getting called fat pigs. It was a mixed bag, but apparently it was enough for the producers of General Hospital to say, "Let's get those guys on daytime television."

Our scene begins with several young nurses rushing in to volunteer for duty. Apparently "one of the hockey players" has been injured and is coming to the hospital for treatment. Given how excited everyone is, I bet it's one of the team's big stars like Kirk Muller or Sean Burke.

Nope, it's our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That's called synergy, kids.

Brown's in the middle of his sophomore season, one that saw him post 25 points. That may not sound like much, but give the guy a break—as you can see, he was playing through a serious wrist injury that required a visit to the emergency room.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

At this point, things get a little awkward between Brown and one of the nurses. It's very subtle, but if you can get past the porn soundtrack that starts playing in the background, it's implied that they might be flirting.

So let's address the elephant in the room: Why would you cast Doug Brown of all people in the starring role for this? It's not like there weren't any more famous Devils available, as we'll see in a minute. But they went with Brown. Why? Here's my best guess: He was the only player on the team who could string three words together. Seriously, have you ever seen hockey players try to act? It's not pretty. The pantheon of everyone who has ever tried is basically Basil McCrae absolutely nailing it and then dozens of guys doing variations of this. You take what you can get.

"I'm counting my blessings," says the nurse, before hanging a bright red "NO VISITORS" sign on the door. Like I said, it's very subtle.

We skip ahead, as an elevator opens to reveal two gentlemen who look a lot like Ken Daneyko and John MacLean if you CGI'd hair onto their heads. It is indeed them, as pointed out by one of the off-duty nurses. She also makes sure to mention that MacLean made the All-Star team, while Daneyko just gets labeled as "the big guy." Defensemen, man—they get no respect from anyone.

Daneyko and MacLean are here to pick up Brown and drive him home from the hospital. You know, the way NHL players do. But instead they immediately get to work hitting on the nurses, presumably because they both have a thing for 1980s sweaters and Kelly Kapowski haircuts. Which I'm not judging them for, just to be clear.

"I'll drop my defenses for you anytime." I think she likes them, you guys.

She also asks them how they skate backwards, but before Daneyko can answer, "Actually, it's the 80s, so most of us still can't," Brown returns from his examination. "You guys should try to get on the injured list," he tells them, before going in for a kiss on his nurse friend.

Can we just point out that Lou Lamoriello was running the Devils by this point? What do you think his reaction to all of this was? I think we may have found the genesis for his whole "never talk about injuries" policy.

The other nurses demand to know what happened in there, but Brown's companion refuses to answer while, um, rubbing her throat. I guess we'll never be able to crack the code. It will remain a mystery forever.

And that ends our clip. Tragically, the Devils missed the playoffs that year. Brown stuck with the team until 1993, but never had the kind of breakout season fans were expecting. For some strange reason, he never managed to go an entire season without getting injured.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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amtushinfosolutionspage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl’s Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: Phil Kessel. Good lord. This isn’t Kessel dunking on the haters. This is him dunking on them, shattering the backboard, tearing off the rim, and then using that rim to teach cute little hoop-jumping tricks to their puppy, which immediately follows Kessel home because it loves him more now.

The second star: Phil Kessel. Look, the whole “Phil Kessel eats too many hot dogs” thing has been done to death, as has the backlash and then the backlash to the backlash. But this is next-level stuff. Seriously, take a minute to appreciate what’s happening here.

The first star: Phil Kessel. He went and took the one thing that’s come to symbolize everything the critics, cynics, and bullies have ever thrown at him and literally ate it out of the greatest accomplishment you can achieve in his line of work. Then he took a photo of it. Then he went back and took a better photo of it. Phil Kessel wins. Again.

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The issue: The Edmonton Oilers’ Leon Draisaitl finally signed his contract extension this week, locking in for the maximum eight years on a deal that totals $68 million and carries a cap hit of $8.5 million.

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

Is it justified: Yes. Draisaitl is a very good player, but he’s not some sort of generational talent like teammate Connor McDavid. That means we have plenty of similar players we can use to determine fair value for a comparable situation, and by virtually all of those measures this contract is way too high. The deal the Oilers signed was well above what even their most loyal fans were projecting as fair value.

Remember, this is just Draisaitl’s second contract—he wasn’t eligible for unrestricted free agency for four more years, so aside from the longshot chance of an offer sheet, he really had no leverage here. Other players who recently received monster contracts, like Patrick Kane, Carey Price, Steven Stamkos, or Anze Kopitar, were all within a year of UFA status, meaning they could plausibly threaten to walk away from their teams for nothing. Draisaitl was years away from that kind of negotiating power, but the Oilers panicked and paid him top dollar anyway.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn’t.

When you’re going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL has a well-established system for paying star players. You work cheap on your entry deal, you get a better number on your second (and maybe third) contracts, and then you get the big bucks once you’re nearing your UFA years. That system is fundamentally broken. It doesn’t make any sense to pay top dollar to guys who are in their late 20s—those players are already past their prime. Most forwards, for example, have their most productive years between the ages of 22 and 25. It doesn’t make any sense that players are expected to play at a steep discount during those seasons and then make it back years later when they’re already in decline.

So what the Oilers are doing here makes sense. Unlike the Kane or Kopitar deals, they’re actually paying top dollar for their player’s best seasons. (Presumably, of course. We can never know for sure how a player’s aging curve will play out, but as far as projections go, it’s the most likely scenario.)

But right now, it kind of is both. That’s because we don’t know what kind of impact, if any, Draisaitl’s signing will have on the way teams think about these deals. It’s the kind of contract that could shift the market, leading other teams to pay top dollar to stars just entering their prime while shifting money away from older players approaching UFA status. If that happens, the Oilers will look like they were ahead of the curve, and Draisaitl’s deal will probably turn out to represent decent value.

Right now, we just don’t know. It’s Schrodinger’s contract. But with Jack Eichel still waiting on an extension and Auston Matthews up for one next summer, we probably won’t have to wait long to find out.

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Recently, we found out that USA Hockey’s development program will be making a fairly substantial rule change for players ages 14 and under. Starting this season, teams will no longer be allowed to ice the puck when killing a penalty. Doing so will now be treated as regular icing, with a face-off in the defensive zone. The move is meant to encourage young players to think through situations and handle the puck rather than just automatically flinging it down the ice.

It’s a smart change, one that will hopefully encourage a little more creativity in a sport that so often lacks it. Youth hockey is all about having fun and learning, after all, and playing with the puck on your stick instead of reflexively dumping it down the ice serves both those ends. So kudos to USA Hockey for the change.

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

“I volunteer.” Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Not immediately, of course, but is this something that the pros should be looking at doing someday? After all, it seems odd to penalize a team for an infraction but then give it a special set of rules that makes the game easier. If we’re trying to increase scoring—and we should be—then a reasonably simple rule change to make it tougher to kill off a penalty seems like low-hanging fruit.

On the surface, it makes sense, but there are two problems with the concept. Let’s start with the obvious issue, one pointed out by at least one former NHLer: Most teams would probably just keep icing the puck anyway.

Today’s coaches are relentlessly conservative. It’s not hard to imagine them deciding that killing off 10 or 15 seconds of a two-minute minor is worth an occasional face-off in their own end. Sure, players would try to execute a 180-foot flip that would fall just short of the icing line, but coaches would probably be fine with taking the icing a man down, just as an increasing number of teams seem fine with it late in the game when the other team has its goalie pulled. And that would mean fans being treated to more whistles, more milling around the face-off circle, and less momentum.

The other issue is one that I’ve raised before: Efforts to increase scoring should be focused on changes that will help at five-on-five, too. That’s how most of the game is played, and we don’t want to train fans to sit around and wait for powerplays. There’s also the risk that officials who’ve been told for years not to decide a game will be even more reluctant to call penalties if they know that powerplays are more effective. It would likely be a small influence, but it could be enough to cancel out most of the offensive gains we’d otherwise see.

None of that means the NHL shouldn’t explore making the change. Maybe they will someday. But it’s not the slam dunk it should be for youth hockey, because in the NHL, the law of unintended consequences is always waiting just around the corner.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week’s obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we’ll get to that in a bit.

Brown was a useful piece for the Devils until 1993, when he signed with the Penguins as a free agent and got to play with his younger brother Greg. Like everyone else in the Mario Lemieux era, he had the best offensive season of his career in Pittsburgh, putting up 55 points. It wasn’t enough to keep him out of the following year’s waiver draft, where the Detroit Red Wings grabbed him.

As far as career highlights go, well, he scored the first playoff overtime goal in Devils’ history in 1988, and had two goals in the Red Wings’ Cup-clinching win in 1998. But let’s face it, none of those come close to being the best Doug Brown videos you can find on YouTube. Meet me in the next section.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

It’s tough time for the New Jersey Devils these days. The team is rebuilding. The team is rebuilding, they finished 27th last year, they may not be all that much better this year, and they just found out that Travis Zajac will miss a big chunk of the season. But hey, New Jersey fans can always look back on the glory days. No, not the three Stanley Cups. I mean the time the Devils were on General Hospital.

Yes, that actually happened. I’m sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let’s watch.

Our scene begins with several young nurses rushing in to volunteer for duty. Apparently “one of the hockey players” has been injured and is coming to the hospital for treatment. Given how excited everyone is, I bet it’s one of the team’s big stars like Kirk Muller or Sean Burke.

Nope, it’s our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That’s called synergy, kids.

Brown’s in the middle of his sophomore season, one that saw him post 25 points. That may not sound like much, but give the guy a break—as you can see, he was playing through a serious wrist injury that required a visit to the emergency room.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

At this point, things get a little awkward between Brown and one of the nurses. It’s very subtle, but if you can get past the porn soundtrack that starts playing in the background, it’s implied that they might be flirting.

So let’s address the elephant in the room: Why would you cast Doug Brown of all people in the starring role for this? It’s not like there weren’t any more famous Devils available, as we’ll see in a minute. But they went with Brown. Why? Here’s my best guess: He was the only player on the team who could string three words together. Seriously, have you ever seen hockey players try to act? It’s not pretty. The pantheon of everyone who has ever tried is basically Basil McCrae absolutely nailing it and then dozens of guys doing variations of this. You take what you can get.

“I’m counting my blessings,” says the nurse, before hanging a bright red “NO VISITORS” sign on the door. Like I said, it’s very subtle.

We skip ahead, as an elevator opens to reveal two gentlemen who look a lot like Ken Daneyko and John MacLean if you CGI’d hair onto their heads. It is indeed them, as pointed out by one of the off-duty nurses. She also makes sure to mention that MacLean made the All-Star team, while Daneyko just gets labeled as “the big guy.” Defensemen, man—they get no respect from anyone.

“I’ll drop my defenses for you anytime.” I think she likes them, you guys.

She also asks them how they skate backwards, but before Daneyko can answer, “Actually, it’s the 80s, so most of us still can’t,” Brown returns from his examination. “You guys should try to get on the injured list,” he tells them, before going in for a kiss on his nurse friend.

Can we just point out that Lou Lamoriello was running the Devils by this point? What do you think his reaction to all of this was? I think we may have found the genesis for his whole “never talk about injuries” policy.

The other nurses demand to know what happened in there, but Brown’s companion refuses to answer while, um, rubbing her throat. I guess we’ll never be able to crack the code. It will remain a mystery forever.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you’d like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl’s Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic syndicated from http://ift.tt/2ug2Ns6

0 notes

cwnerd12 · 5 years

Text

fixed

“Be Fruitful” David reclines in a comfortable leather seat in the royal private jet while around him, Abby and Jessie get into place. Jessie, “This is so exciting! My first royal wedding!” David, “Um, your second? What the hell did Jack and I do three months ago?” Jessie gets into her seat, “Oh, you know, you know. This is going to be a fun vacation, David, you should try to relax” David, “I’m glad you can think of it as vacation, Mom. It’s still work for me and Abby.” Jessie, “How can going to a wedding be work?” David, “When you’re trying to enact diplomacy with a country where being gay is illegal and marriage is compulsory.”

David, Abby, and Jessie go into the lobby of the hotel: there’s an enormous centerpiece of a golden, radiant cross surrounded by huge, gaudy flowers. Behind them, staff members scramble with their luggage. Abby, “We’re each getting our own rooms, right?” David, “Well, this place is strictly royalty and staff only for the weekend, so, yeah, I guess.” Jessie, “That’s just wasteful!” David, “We can get a room with two single beds, if you want.” Jessie, “You don’t want to spend your big royal event with your mom.” David, “Well, that’s kind of why I brought you here,” he reaches into his pocket, “Here, I’ve got the keys, we can just go up.” He starts to walk towards the elevator when from behind them, a voice shouts, “David!” David turns around and sees Quentin approaching. David, “Hi, Quentin.” He turns back to Abby and Jessie, “You two go get settled while I talk to Quentin, okay?” He gives them the keys. Quentin, “Hey, Abby, you bring Frankie?” Abby, “No. I already have my hands full enough keeping an eye on David,” she gets in the elevator with Jessie, “I’ll send him your regards.” She presses a button and the doors slide shut. Quentin turns back to David, “How are you holding up, man?” David, “I’ve definitely been better.” Quentin, “You going to the bachelor party?” David, “The absolute worst thing I could possibly do right now is get seen with a bunch of strippers.” Quentin, “Dude, we’re in Ammon. Strippers are illegal and the strongest thing they have to drink is root beer.” David, “I’d prefer not to.” Quentin, “Is Jack still mad at you?” David, “What?” Quentin, “With the chick and all.” David, “I’d rather keep those details private.” Quentin, “Shit, man, I’m sorry. If Mashka stayed mad at me fore more then a week, I’d have to have fucked up pretty bad.” David, “Mashka?” Quentin, “Girl I’ve been dating. Her dad’s a big oil billionaire. Mom and dad want me to marry her.“ David, “Good luck with that. Anyway, my situation with Jack isn’t like that. I’d just like some privacy right now.” Quentin, “Damn, you are still new to this, aren’t you? It gets easier when you just accept the fact that your shit is gonna become public knowledge.” David sighs, “We’ve made up. Neither of us is good at staying mad for very long. I think we’d both prefer that I not have to come to this, but it’s kind of my duty to maintain the peace process with Ammon.” Quentin, “You sound like someone who needs to have fun.” David, “We still haven’t found who killed Caesar Reinhardt. My security team won’t let me go anywhere until we find them.” The elevator dings, and the door slides open. Michael, Fredrick, and Leon Shaw step forward into the lobby. Michael and Fredrick give long, cruelly smiling glances at David as they pass him. David watches them whisper and snicker among themselves. David, “Besides, there’s certain people I’m trying to avoid while I’m here.” Quentin, looking back at the Shaws, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep the Shaw boys away from you.” David, “I think it’s best that I just stay out of trouble.”

In their room, Jessie and Abby look over the room service menu while David facetimes Jack and Michelle, “We made it in okay. We’re at the hotel, gonna order some room service. How are you doing?” Jack, “Lonely.” David, “You need to make more friends. I’m serious! Give the phone to Michelle, I want to talk to her.” Jack yells, “Michelle!” She takes the phone, “What?” David, “There’s a speech loss group at the palace tomorrow, make sure Jack goes.” Michelle, “What? Me? Why me?” David, “You’re his sister!” Michelle, “You’re his husband!” David, “I’m kind of busy!” Michelle, “He’s not twelve.” David, “Come on, you know he needs to talk to people who aren’t you or me.” Michelle, “At a fucking speech loss group?” David, “You know what I mean!” Jack rolls his eyes and makes jack off hands. Michelle, “Right now Jack rolling his eyes and making jack off hands.” David, “He knows I’m right, then. If I can survive this fucking wedding, he can survive an hour of a support group. Either you do it, or Thomasina will do it.” Michelle, “I’ll make him go. Making Jack suffer is my unique gift.” Jack, “Traitor!” Michelle smirks, “Don’t you worry.” David, “Okay, thanks?” Michelle, “And, David?” David, “Yeah?” Michelle, “You take it easy. I mean, I know this sucks but, all you have to do is smile, shake hands, and be polite. You’re good at that.” David, “Thanks, Michelle, and I will. I promise.”

Later, David flips through the channels on the TV while Jessie puts her hair in rollers. David, “I honestly can’t remember the last time I watched a movie. I hope something good’s on.” Jessie, “There’s always a superhero movie on somewhere. You always like those.” David flips on to a news channel, and Beth’s face fills the screen, “I’d stay up late with insomnia, and he’d meet me. It started out just as talking but it pretty quickly turned into sex. And, I’ll be honest, it was good sex.” David turns bright, furious red and smashes the POWER button as hard as he can. David, “Jesus, I hope they paid her well for that.” Jessie doesn’t say anything. She opens up a jar and begins applying a facial mask. David swallows hard, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Jessie, quietly, “I do my best to ignore it.” David sits quietly for a moment, “I’m gonna go for a swim.”

David swims in the hotel indoor pool. He wears a small pair of shorts that Jack picked out for their honeymoon, showing off his body and scars. The room is empty save for David’s security guys. He swims a few laps, trying to clear his mind. He floats peacefully on his back, eyes shut, letting the water lap around him, enjoying the solitude. He opens his eyes and sees the faces of Michael Shaw looking down at him from the balcony above. Michael, “Jesus, who the hell chewed you up like that?” David tries to casually turn and swim away. He gets out of the pool. He looks over and sees Michael coming towards him. His security guys get in the way. Michael, “I’d like to speak to the king.” David ignores him and grabs a towel. Michael calls to David, “Shame about Caesar Reinhardt!” David stops in his tracks. He clenches his fists and gives Michael a hateful glare. Michael smirks, “Any luck finding who killed him?” David turns away. Michael, “I’ll help you with the investigation: it wasn’t us! It had to have been one of your guys!” David hurries away, seething. He gets into he elevator. Once alone, he grits his teeth, breathes heavily, and then punches a wall. Back in the room, Jessie luxuriates in a fluffy bath robe and bright pink facial mask, her hair in rollers. David enters. Jessie, “Have a good swim?” David, “Yeah.” Jessie takes a second look at him, “Doesn’t look like you did a whole lot of relaxing.” David, “I’m tired. I’m gonna take a shower and then go to bed.” Jessie, “All right. I’ll be in bed soon, too.”

Pitch blackness. Jessie’s soft voice, “…David?” a short pause, and then louder, “David!” David jerks awake, a single lamp illuminating the hotel room. Jessie stands over him, a look of concern over her face, “Are you all right?” David, still somewhat disoriented, “What?” Jessie, “You were making noises. It sounded like a bad dream.” David lets out a sigh, “Oh,” he sinks into his pillows, slightly relieved, “Yeah, um, I kind of have those every once and a while. It’s nothing. Just go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.” Jessie, “Are you sure?” David, “Yeah. I’m sorry I woke you up. I… I haven’t had bad dreams in a while, but… I guess I’ve been kind of stressed. They tend to come back when that happens.” Jessie, “Was it about Jack again?” David, “No. I…” he thinks for a moment, “I don’t remember what it was about, actually.” Jessie, “Are you sure you’re all right, baby? Can I get you anything?” David, “I’m fine. I’ll get myself a sleeping pill, fall right back asleep. I can give you one if you need it.” Jessie, “I’ll be all right. I’m just worried about you.” David, “I just have bad dreams sometimes.”

The next morning, in the residence, Michelle threatens Jack, “I may be a foot shorter than you, but I’ve been doing cardio and I will drag your ass downstairs!” Jack, whining, “Whyyyyy?” Michelle, “David says you have to. I guess the PTSD group did him some good. I dunno, he just told me to do it. He said you need to talk to some new people.” Jack,“I can’t talk.” Michelle, “Yes you can.” Jack rolls his eyes. Michelle, “Hey, if you do this and it sucks, that’ll just give you a reason to say no next time David tries to get you to do something stupid.” Jack crosses his arms and stubbornly remains sitting on the sofa. Michelle, “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” She goes over, grabs his wheelchair, and parks it beside the sofa. She goes over to Jack and starts to hoist him upwards, “Come on, get up!” Unhappily, Jack goes along as she moves him into the wheelchair. Michelle, “And you know you’re supposed to be walking everywhere now. If your recovery halts because you’re being a fucking asshole, I’m going to laugh at you.” Jack raises his middle fingers, “Push me, bitch.” Michelle pushes Jack out the door, “How the hell does someone who can’t fucking talk manage to complain so much?” Jack, “I’m talented.”

In an over-the-top evangelical-style cathedral, TV cameras and crewmen scramble to get into place. Abby sits politely while David checks his phone. Abby, “Put that fucking thing away or so help me god. The whole peace process depends on how well you behave yourself here, so don’t you fucking dare do anything stupid.” David, “I was just checking to make sure Jack made it to his group.” Music starts to play. Warner and Mae beam at Wayne, standing in his cowboy-style military uniform up at the altar. Skylyn Judd walks down the aisle in a yellow flower girl dress, followed by her brother, Gideon, the ringbearer. The bridesmaids, dressed in yellow dresses walk down the aisle with their groomsmen in cowboy boots. David suppresses an incredulous look. The bridal march begins, and the bride, Hattie, wearing the biggest, frilliest modest wedding dress imaginable and a massive tiara bedecked with yellow diamonds, rides a white horse down the aisle, led by her father. David, “Is the horse the maid of honor?” Abby, through gritted teeth, “Shut the fuck up!” David suppresses his laughter, “What are they gonna do if the horse poops?” Abby, “Then it will truly be a shitty wedding.“

Downstairs, the speech loss group is mostly old people with aphasia and their care-takers. Jack shoots Michelle a look. Michelle, “Shut the fuck up.” Behind them, a female voice says, “Look, there’s someone else in an AFG jacket.” Michelle turns around, and sees a brother and sister, Amanda and Gus, both wearing AFG jackets. Amanda, “Oh shit. Well, I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who had to drag her brother here.” Jack and Gus exchange looks. Michelle laughs, “Hi. Is this your first time, too?” Amanda, “Yep.” Michelle, “You got a brain injury, too?” Amanda, “Nope. Gus got shot in the throat.” Michelle’s eyes widen with med student glee, “NO WAY,” she catches herself, “Oh, shit, sorry, I shouldn’t say that. I’m a med student. My professors are always yelling at me not to say ‘Neat,’ when I’m examining patients.” Jack rolls his eyes. Gus raises his chin and points to the scar. Michelle gawks, “Woah!” Amanda, “The bullet cauterized the jugular.” Michelle, “Oooh, I’ve heard of that happening. That’s one of those things you hear about but like never see. You’re like medical Bigfoot.” In halting, awkward sign language, Gus says, “Thank you not say lucky.” Amanda, “He says thank you for not calling him lucky.” Michelle, “Oh, yeah, Jack hates being called lucky.” Jack and Gus exchange understanding grins, grateful that someone else gets it. Michelle, “Throat injuries will fuck you up.” Amanda, “Yeah, Gus has to have all of his food pureed and his liquids thickened. I tried eating like that for a week, and,” she gives Gus a regretful look, “I’m sorry! I don’t understand how it works. If his food isn’t the exact right consistency, he chokes on it, but at the same time, he doesn’t have a gag reflex any more. Throats are weird.” Michelle, “Jack doesn’t have a gag reflex, either, but that has nothing to do with his injury.” Jack makes an exaggerated OH MY GOD backwards flop.

At the reception, David sits with Jessie and Abby. Jessie, “It was really a nice ceremony, you know.” David, “With a horse.” Jessie, “You’re just being cynical.” David, “If I don’t have something to laugh at here, I’m probably gonna start screaming.” Abby, “We’ll be on the plane back to Shiloh in a few hours, don’t worry.” A waiter, Eddie arrives and serves plates of salad, “A crisp romaine and lemon vinaigrette salad.” David, “Thanks.” Eddie leaves. David picks up a fork to eat, and then notices a small piece of paper underneath his plate. He picks it up and opens it: We need your help. Go to the kitchen. He looks around for Eddie, but doesn’t see him. He turns to Abby, and in a low voice says, “Look at this.” He shows her the note. Abby, harshly, “Put that away right now!” David stashes it in his pocket, “I’m gonna go.” Abby, “Do not go there without security.” David, “Yeah, I think I know that by now. What do you think it could be?” Abby, hesitant, “I don’t know, but… It’s probably something that could seriously fuck up the peace process.” David, “I can’t just ignore someone asking for help.” Abby, “Then go, then, but send a security guy first.” David turns around and discretely signals for one of his bodyguards. He shows the bodyguard the note, who then nods and heads towards the kitchen.

Amanda talks hesitantly to the group, “I- I feel bad when I talk about my needs. I mean, Gus is the one who got shot and… God, he was conscious through the whole thing. He had to hold his neck wound closed, and then let the medics start sticking all these tubes in-” Michelle, “A Foley catheter. They balloon up and stop a punctured blood vessel from bleeding.” Amanda, “I didn’t see him until we figured out he was in the hospital under a false name. When he didn’t check in, I- I thought he was dead. The only reason I didn’t list him dead was because nobody could verify that they’d seen his body.” Michelle reaches over and puts her hand on Amanda’s. Amanda, “Gus has been through so much I just feel like I’m not allowed to complain- I- I don’t even want to call it complaining, I’m happy to be the one taking care of him. It’s just that sometimes it gets really hard and I don’t know how to acknowledge that.” She sniffs and wipes tears from her eyes. The group leader, “Perhaps you should just try finding the right words for how you feel. Would you say that sometimes you feel frustrated and overwhelmed?” Amanda, “Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.” Michelle looks around. Jack and Gus are missing. Michelle, “Wait, where’s Jack and Gus?” Cut to: on a balcony, Jack and Gus sit in the sun without speaking and pass a joint back and forth. Jack blinks in the bright light and takes a deep hit. A satisfied smile appears over his face. Behind them, a door opens and Michelle and Amanda come out. Michelle, “Oh for fuck’s sake!” She goes over to Jack and grabs the joint, “Is this where you’ve been?” Jack, “Nice day.” Michelle, “You’re supposed to be going to therapy!” Gus, in a quiet, raspy, barely a whisper voice, “We have therapy.” He exchanges looks with Michelle and Amanda. Amanda sighs, “At least you’ve made a friend.” She takes the joint from Michelle, sits down, and takes a hit. Michelle sits down, too, and Amanda passes her the joint. Michelle takes a hit, “You know, just because you’re going through more shit the rest of us doesn’t mean we aren’t going through shit, too.” Amanda, “Don’t bring it up. I just need to talk sometimes.” Gus and Jack exchange looks.

In the palace kitchen, five people, including Eddie, wait nervously. The door swings open and David enters. Eddie steps forward, “Thank you for coming.” David, nervously, What do you need?” Eddie, “We need to get out of Ammon. Please, bring us back to Gilboa with you.” David, “I- I’m not sure if I can do that-” Eddie, “Our lives depend on it. Ida and Desiree both get beaten by their husbands but can’t get a divorce. Maria is trans but can’t transition. Julian and I want to get married, but if we get found out, we’ll be separated. Julian has five months until he turns thirty- five months until he’s forced to marry a woman.” David looks at them in dismay, “I- I… I have to talk to my minister of state about this.” He hurries out of the kitchen and back to the table. Abby, “What was that?” David, “There’s five people in the kitchen who want to defect to Gilboa.” Abby, “First of all, calm down. You do not want to look like you’re panicking at a wedding. Secondly, we can’t take them. It’ll fuck up the entire peace process.” David, “I know! What am I supposed to tell them?” Abby, “The truth. Tell them that accepting defectors will cause Ammon to reinstate hostilities against Gilboa.” David looks around in anguish. Abby, “Go back and tell them. When you get back, we’ll say there’s a situation in Gilboa that you have to attend to, and leave.” David, “There has to be some way. Some sneaky under-the-radar way like we used to do with the AFG.” Abby, “We had drug dealers helping us with the AFG. Besides, the realities of running a rebel army and running a nation are very different. the consequences are different.” Another palace employee goes up to David, “Pardon me, your highness.” David, “Yes?” Employee, “Prince Wayne has requested to speak with you privately.” David, “What?” Employee, “Prince Wayne has requested-” David, “Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll talk to him, just give me a minute.” Abby grabs his arm, “Breathe, David. Just keep breathing.”

Back on the balcony, Michelle stands up, “Would you two like a tour of the palace?” Amanda, “What? That would be amazing!” Jack, “I’m good here.” Michelle looks at Gus. Gus, “I’m good.” Michelle leads Amanda away, “Come on. I’ll show you where David keeps his socks.” They go inside. Gus and Jack sit peacefully looking up at the sky. Jack sighs and closes his eyes, deep in thought. He glances over at Gus and concentrates on what he wants to say, “Do you… talking… try it?” He falters slightly at the end, embarrassed. Gus replies in sign language, “I’m learning sign.” Jack grimaces slightly, “I can’t,” he points to his scar, “Brain thing. Language is hard.” Gus, speaking, “I also write.” Jack leans back in his seat, and they sit in silence for a long moment. Jack, “Do you get angry?” Gus, “Constantly.”

David nervously enters a private room, where Wayne waits for him. David, “You wanted to talk to me?” Wayne gives him a condescending smile, “I did. Seeing as how you’re the King of Gilboa and I’m gonna be the king of Ammon, I thought I should get to know you a little bit.” David, “Well, here I am.” Wayne, “I got to know the other heirs pretty well with Prince Club and all. I always thought it’d be Jack I’d face off against one day. You kind of changed that.” David, “Are… are you saying you already intend to go to war with me?” Wayne, “I’m just being realistic. Carmel, is, after all, Ammon territory.” David, “Jesus, this again. I don’t know if you’re aware, but fighting a war fucking sucks.” Wayne, “Don’t you dare condescend to me, Shepherd. I know what war is like. My father fought for his crown just like you did. As soon as I could walk, I was a soldier of Christ. I grew up sleeping in tents in rebel camps. I didn’t have a settled home until I was ten years old. I never knew the luxury of peace and comfort.” David, “Okay. Is there anything you actually want to know about me, or can I go back to my seat now?” Wayne, “You think you’re so much better than everyone else, don’t you?” David, “Pardon?” Wayne, “I saw you laughing during the ceremony.” David, “Well, you have to admit, the horse was a bit much.” Wayne sneers at him, “No man is an island, David.” David, “What?” Wayne, “The good and the evil you put out into the world comes back to you. Heathens call it karma.” David, “Look, I’m sorry for being rude, but I have to laugh so I don’t think too much about how fucking twisted it is that your father is up there talking about the sacredness of love while at the same time his government forces people into marriage.” Wayne, “You have no room to lecture other people about morality.” David, “Yeah, I know. I cheated. But I’m still trying my best not to hurt people. Is there anything else you want?” Wayne grows more serious, and thinks for a moment, “What happened to Vesper Abedon’s children?” David, “I can’t tell you. I made an agreement with them to keep them anonymous.” The tiniest smile flickers on Wayne’s face, “So they’re still alive.” David, realizing he’s inadvertently given some information away, “Yeah.” An odd, nostalgic but forlorn look comes over Wayne’s face, but then vanishes, “I always thought I’d marry Mercy Abedon. She was so pretty.” David, “Still is.” Wayne gives David an angry look, “You can leave now.” David, “Congratulations on your marriage.” He turns around and leaves. David goes back to the table. When he sits down, he leans in and says to Abby, “Fuck it. Wayne says he’s already thinking about war. We might as well get those people out.” Abby sighs heavily and looks around, dismayed, “We can’t.” David, “If Ammon wants to go to war, anyway, why not?” Abby, “Because we can’t go to war right now. Not with Gath also threatening war. Wayne isn’t Warner, and Warner, at least, has been honoring the peace process.” David, “There has to be something!” Abby, “What? You’re the leader. If there’s something, you’re the one who knows it.” David sits and thinks for a moment, coming to the slow, anguished realization that there’s nothing he can do. Eddie the waiter approaches the table, “Is there anything you need?” David looks up at him, and they exchange eye contact for a moment. David, “I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” Eddie swallows his sadness and disappointment, “That’s quite fine, sir. I’m glad everything is to your liking.” He goes away, and David watches.

David, Abby, and Jessie leave the palace. Jessie, “Did they find who killed Reinhardt?” David, “What? No. Why?” Jessie, “You said there’s something in Gilboa you need to tend to.” David, “That’s just an excuse, Mom. We’re leaving.” They go into the lobby. By the door, two of the women from the group cry and console each other. David sees them, and he tries to pretend that he doesn’t see them staring at him. In the limo, David stares forlornly out the window at the passing scenery. Jessie, “David, are you all right? Did something happen at the reception?” David, “There was a group of people who wanted to defect to Gilboa. I couldn’t help them.” Abby, “It’s a really complicated situation, but it was the right thing to do.” Jessie, “Oh. That’s a shame.” David keeps staring out the window. In their hotel room, employees help Jessie with the luggage. Jessie, “Is there anything else?” David, “No, we’re good.” Jessie, “Okay.” David, “You go on ahead. I- I need a moment.” Jessie, “Okay, we’ll wait for you.” Everyone clears the room. David stares at the door for a moment, then looks around the room, thinking. He sits down on the bed, and thinks intensely for a long minute. Slowly, his emotions overcome him, and tears of rage fill his eyes. He shoves his face down into a pillow and screams.

Night time, Tanya talks to two men in AFG jackets, Jace Belen and Ian Richards, in the cramped office space of a mechanic’s garage. Tanya, “You two need to get to Gath, now.” Belen, “I told you, we’re not going to Gath, we intend to serve Gilboa.” Tanya, “You want to die in Gilboa?” Richards, “We faced death every day in the AFG. This is nothing new.” Tanya, “How about you two getting caught would fuck a lot of us over, hm?” Belen, “Gath’s a dump. You socialists think it’s paradise, it’s just as fucked up as Gilboa.” Tanya, “I’ve been an anarchist longer than you’ve been alive. I know what Gath is like, and I know it’s willing to take a couple of common murderers in if they’ll hand over a few secrets.” Richards, “I’ll go,” he looks at Belen, “Can’t fight if we’re dead.” Belen, “All right, fine.” They go into the garage where a couple of men wait for them. Tanya, “Pete has some false IDs for you. He’ll drive you over the border.” Belen, “So we just leave right now?” Pete, “Best if you don’t look like you’re going somewhere. Get in.” He opens the door and gets in, Belen and Richards following him. The garage door opens, and on the other side is a line of police officers. Pete, “Oh, shit.” Belen grabs a gun out of his waistband and fires. Everyone gets down and shots ring out. Tanya ducks behind the car, “Drive, drive!” The car lurches forward and knocks over a few police officers. It peels out, Belen still firing out the back window. Suddenly, a sniper shot to the head knocks Pete to the side, and the car crashes into a light pole. Belen gets out and takes off running. A figure tackles him and fights to disarm him. In the light, the figure’s face becomes visible as Joel. He fights hard and dirty, more jail brawler than soldier. Finally, he knocks Belen’s gun away, and pins him. Other police officers run up and put Belen under arrest. Joel steps away and watches the scene. He goes back towards the garage. Tanya, fighting and being pushed into a squad car, sees him and fixes him with a furious stare. She stops fighting and just stares at him. He matches her gaze with cold indifference.

#Kings

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cwnerd12 · 6 years

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Nye ver’, nye boysia, nye prosi

“Nye Ver’, Nye Boysia, Nye Prosi” Wednesday sits at the bar of a fancy hotel, sipping a martini. She nervously eyes the front door. One of Silas’s advisors enters. Wednesday smiles and stands up. The advisor comes over and kisses her on the cheek, “You look lovely this evening.” Wednesday: “Thank you. I was just finishing my drink, would you like one?” Advisor: “No. Let’s just go up to the room.” Wednesday and the advisor enter a luxe hotel room. Wednesday, “I know you want to get busy, but you’re going to have to give me a minute to get ready, all right?” Advisor sighs, “You tease.” Wednesday laughs, casts a glance behind her, and says, “Just a minute.” She goes into the bathroom. Advisor takes his jacket off, loosens his tie, and lays down on the bed, “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had! You paid any attention to the news?” Wednesday, in the bathroom. shimmies out of her dress, revealing fancy lingerie underneath, “Uh, yeah, I’ve heard about the bombings.” Advisor: “Everyone who works for Silas now has to keep their car under 24-hour surveillance. It’s an enormous pain in the ass. And Silas is screaming at everyone who enters his office. I’m in the ministry of communication, and somehow, Silas has it in his head that it’s our fault that people are supporting David Shepherd and the AFG. I’ve actually had to explain it to him, it’s not my fault that Shepherd is good-looking. He has kind eyes! How the fuck am I supposed to convince people that this good-looking kid with kind eyes is really some evil would-be tyrant?” In the bathroom, Wednesday adjusts her hair, making sure something is well-covered. Advisor, “Wednesday?” Wednesday turns around and exits the bathroom, “Baby, you’re a big, important man, I know, and your job is hard.” Advisor: “Lookin at you, my job’s not the only thing that’s hard.” Wednesday saunters over to the bed. She leans over the advisor and touches his face, “You just let me make your life a little bit easier, all right?” Advisor, “You always do.” Wednesday smiles, and crawls onto the bed. She straddles the advisor, bends over, and kisses him. She reaches into her hair, and slips a razor blade in between her fingers. With a swift single movement, she cuts the blood vessels on one side of the advisor’s throat. The advisor clutches at his neck, and sees the blood on his hands, “What the fuck?!” Wednesday slashes the other side of his neck, even more blood gushing out. She hops off the bed and hurries into the bathroom. Frantically, she washes the blood off of her hands. She puts her dress back on, and grabs her purse. She pulls a can of spray paint out, and goes back over to the bed, where the advisor lays dead. Wednesday sprays three golden stars over his body. She puts the can back into her purse, and leaves. Outside the hotel, she gets into a car. Driver: “You get him?” Wednesday: “Oh, christ, that felt good.” The driver hands her a stack of papers, “False ID, get you to Gath.” He starts the car. Wednesday, “I’m joining the Queens of Gilboa!” Driver, “Yeah, before you go, we have to stop somewhere.” Wednesday: “Where?” Cut to: outside a run-down warehouse, the driver and another guy shove a blindfolded, gagged, and bound spy who pointed David into the trunk of the car, and slam the door shut. Driver gets back in the car. Wednesday: “Who the hell is that? Are we doing kidnappings now?” Driver starts the car, “Kidnappings for ransom aren’t our thing. This bitch, she’s special. She’s a spy, went to Gath, tried to poison David.” Wednesday: “You’re kidding me.” Driver: “Yup. Gath spy network identified her, we’re just picking her up and bringing her where she needs to be.” They drive off.

At the hotel, Jack sits reading the newspaper in bed while David gets dressed in a suit. Jack, “HAAA HAHA (advisor) got killed by a hooker last night!” David: “Sex worker.” Jack: “What?” David: “Hooker is derogatory, say sex worker instead.” Jack, “Yeah, well, (advisor) got his ass murdered by a sex worker working for us. I fuckin’ hated that prick!” David puts a tie on, “Listen, Joel told me we’ve got a bunch of missions going off right now. I want to stay here and listen to the progress reports, but Gerald invited me to Mass and I can’t really say no. Some people are coming in from Shiloh, you’re gonna have to be the one who greets them. I think your sex worker is gonna be one of them. You can congratulate her on a job well done.” Jack, “Yeah, fine. Just don’t let Gerald hit you over the head with a copy of Das Kaptial, all right?”

David climbs up the front steps of the National Cathedral of Gath. At the top, Gerald and his family wait, “David! So glad you came to join us this morning!” David shakes his hand, “I’m glad to be here, sir.” Gerald, “I’d like you to meet my family. My wife, Queen Lena.” David shakes her hand, “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Gerald, “And my sons, Princes Michael, Fredrick, and Leon.” David shakes their hands, “Pleased to meet you.” Michael: “You’re the one who freed our hostages and blew up a Goliath.” David, “Among other things, yeah.” Gerald, “You’ll have to forgive Michael, he’s spent quite a bit of time leading his unit in battle against the Gilboan army. When he heard the news of your… escapade, he was very angry.” David laughs nervously, “Yeah, well, Gath did kind of kill my father and my brother, so I guess I can understand what it’s like to be angry.” Lena, “King Silas murdered my father!” David, “And Silas tried to kill me, so, hey, we can all agree that we don’t like Silas, right?” Gerald, “Why don’t I show you the cathedral?” Inside, David looks up at the bright stained glass windows, depicting various saints and the instruments of their martyrdom. Gerald, “Modern Gath was founded on the principals of socialism, but in keeping with the North American tradition of monarchy. One way we differ from other socialist countries is that here, we embrace God, we worship him and ask him for guidance. Gath doesn’t have the same moral corruption as Gilboa. I am a king, but I lead for the people. I’m not swayed by the whims of the bourgeoisie the way that Silas is.” David, “You wouldn’t believe the kinds of things William Cross was able to get away with in Gilboa.” Gerald, “Do you want to be king, David?” David sighs, “That’s a really good question, sir.” Gerald, “What do you believe it is that a King should do?” David, “Not kill his own citizens, for a start.” Gerald laughs, “Being king isn’t easy, but it’s very rewarding, in its own way. We should join Lena and the boys. Mass is about to begin.” Cut to: David sits beside Gerald, praying along to “Our Father.” “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” David leans over to Gerald and whispers, “Deliver us from evil. That’s what a king does.”

Before the front door of HQ can even shut on him, Jack runs up to David, “We got her!” David: “Who?” Jack: “The bitch that poisoned you!”

Gath version of the Lubyanka. David, Jack, Shay, Joel, Abby, and Asher stand on the hidden side of a one-way mirror while the spy sits handcuffed to a table on the other side. David: “So….. now what do we do?” Jack: “We interrogate her.” David: “Do any of us know anything about how to interrogate a spy?” Jack: “I know a few techniques!” Shay: “I know how to cause immense amounts of pain, that’s all you need.” Abby: “She’s fucking trained, if you try torturing her, she’ll only give us false information!” Shay: “Having your head held under water is not torture.” Abby: “I have reports, study after study, all of which show that harsh interrogation techniques do not fucking work!” Shay: (childish mocking voice) “I have reports, I have studies!” Abby: “Just see how fucked we’ll be when we make a mistake because we acted on a spy telling us what we want to hear!” David rubs his eyes: “Oh my God. Asher, what do you say?” Asher: “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to tell you that torture is wrong, but I spent an afternoon cleaning up your barf because of her, so fuck that bitch.” Spy: “Are you in there blowing each other, or are you going to fucking interrogate me?” Shay: “The longer we take, the more she’s gonna know we have no idea what we’re doing.” David: “Fine. Jack, Shay, you two go ask some questions, okay?” Jack: “Give me a minute. I think I have a plan, I just… I just need to think it out.” Shay rolls her eyes and goes into the interrogation room. Joel: “David, can I talk to you in the hallway?” David follows him out into a hallway. Joel: “Do you know the history of this building?” David: “Um….. it’s a police building?” Joel: “In 1965, my grandfather came to Gath from the Soviet Union on a cultural exchange. They found him carrying human rights reports on the Soviets and brought him here. The tortured him for days, and then sent him to a prison camp. He managed to escape from there and defect to Gilboa.” David: “Oh. That’s… cool, I guess?” Joel unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and shows David the “Не Верь Не Бойся Не Проси” tattoo on his collarbone, “Do you know what this means?” David: “No.” Joel: “Nye ver’, nye boysia, nye prosi. Don’t trust, don’t fear, don’t beg. It’s how you survive in a gulag. We can’t trust, fear, or beg from Gath or Gerald. You can trick yourself into thinking that just because we seem to be safe here, it means we really are safe. You can come to think that maybe things are better in Gath than they are in Gilboa, but trust me, things here are just as fucked up.” David: “Are… you familiar with Bilal?” Joel: “Bilal? He’s a fucking religious nutjob who wants to replace one brutal regime with another. But he’s not wrong about Gerald, okay?” David, exasperated, “We can’t really be an army without Gath’s help. We’d be pretty fucked without a safe place to stay.” Joel: “Yeah, I know, it’s why I didn’t say anything to you earlier. But you need to know. Gerald’s help comes with a price, and some day soon, he’s going to come asking. What are you willing to sacrifice for what we’re fighting for?” David: “I’m not even entirely sure what it is we’re fighting for. I’ve got to figure some shit out.”

In his office, Gerald speaks to his computer, “What do you want?” On his screen, William appears, “Good afternoon, King Gerald. I know you aren’t terribly fond of bourgeois scum such as myself, but since you buy plenty of my weapons, I thought I should speak with you.” Gerald, “Yes?” William: “I’m not gonna fuck around. You hate Silas. I hate Silas. I tried to overthrow Silas. Someone else who’s trying to overthrow Silas is currently a guest in your country. I believe there’s an agreement to be made here.” Gerald: “Shepherd has said he is going to be king. I know you want the crown all for yourself.” William, “It should have been mine in the first place!” Gerald: “Are you going to try to overthrow me, too?” William, “No. Why would I want to rule Gath?” Gerald: “What do you want, Mr. Cross?” William grows cold and serious, “Shepherd is going to turn on you.” Gerald grows more serious, “Why do you say that?” William: “Because he has fucking morals, and he’s going to learn about your prison camps sooner or later. I don’t give a fuck, and because of that, you can trust me.” Gerald: “What are you trying to do?” William: “Overthrow Silas and get my crown! I believe that David can help me do that, but I need your help to help me help Shepherd.” Gerald: “So what do you want?” William: “The deets on Shepherd. What he does, where he goes, the people he’s with.” Gerald: “Right now, I believe he’s at our police headquarters. Something about the person who poisoned him.” William: “He was poisoned?!” Gerald: “Prince Jack recognized it right away and acted quickly.” William: “I need to know this!” Gerald: “Very well, I’ll stay in touch with you, then.” William: “You need to keep Shepherd loyal to you.” Gerald: “And how am I going to do that?” William: “Offer autonomy to the borderlands. That’s his home, he’s not going to say no.” Gerald: “I can’t undermine my own authority.” William: “How badly do you want to see Silas gone? Because if Shepherd remains loyal to you, you can use him to fight Silas.” Gerald: “I just ended a war. I vowed that I would protect the peace, and I will continue to do that!” William, smarmy and sarcastic, “Oh, will you? Because I promise you, Silas is gearing up for another war. It would be a shame if he should declare on and Gath should suddenly not have any weapons with which to defend itself. There’s gonna be another war, and with Shepherd on your side, you can fuckin’ win.” Gerald sighs heavily, “I’ll think about it.” William: “Also, if you’ve got one Gilboan spy in Gath, there’s more. If I were you, I’d get that spy to talk.” Gerald, “Thank you, Mr. Cross.”

David goes back into the room beside the interrogation room. On the other side of the mirror, Shay holds they spy’s head down in a bucket of water. David: “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He leans into the microphone, “Knock it off, will you?!” Shay lets go of the spy, who comes up sputtering, but laughing. Spy: “Whoo! That was fun! Just like going to the waterpark when I was a kid!” David: “Shay, would you come here, please?” Spy: “Shepherd’s here?! Yeah, I recognize your voice! How’d you enjoy the shake?!” Shay leaves the interrogation room and joins David and the others. Shay: “Does anyone else have a fucking plan?!” Jack: “I do.” Jack goes into the interrogation room. Spy: “Ooooh! I get the prince! Nice!” Jack: “You shoulda tried something other than aconite, I’ve seen it a million times and recognized it right away. I personally would have gone with ricin. Slower acting, starts out like the flu, probably woulda just thought David was sick and wouldn’t have pinned it on the diner.” Spy: “I don’t have that kind of patience. I’m a kill-em-quick kinda girl.” Jack: “Too bad. Because your fuckup landed you here.” Jack sits down: “Look, I get it, you’re a professional. I’ve seen our spy training program up close, so I know what it’s like, and I know the old head in a bucket trick isn’t going to work on you.” Spy: “And now you’re onto the good cop part of the interrogation, right?” Jack: “Do you believe in God?” Spy: “What?” Jack: “My dad says God is on his side, King Gerald says God is on his side, a lot of people say God is on David’s side. Seems like a good place to start when getting to know you.” Spy: “I believe in God. I accept Jesus Christ as my personal lord and savior.” Jack: “Okay,” He tries to say more but Spy cuts him off, “And I hold that there is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his messenger! I’ll believe whatever the fuck you want me to believe, buddy! I know you’re trying to be my friend. And I know exactly what you want from me. Who am I? How did I get to Gath? Are there others like me? What are they planning? So don’t expect me to tell you any of that.” Jack smirks, “Do you want some coffee?” Spy makes a curious face, but smiles, “Sure. Anything that’ll make this go faster. Four sugars, no cream.” Jack turns around, “David, go get our guest some coffee.” David looks on, surprised. Jack: “Seriously, go get her some!” David goes and fetches a cup. He goes into the interrogation room. Spy, sarcastic: “Oh my god, it’s David Shepherd! I can’t believe I get to meet him!” She drinks her coffee, “You were so fucking easy to find. You go to the same diner and eat the same shit almost every day. Seriously my job shouldn’t be this easy!” Jack: “How’s the coffee?” Spy: “The coffee in this country tastes like shit.” Jack: “It’s not the coffee that tastes like shit, it’s the ten milligrams of ricin that David put in there.” The spy sits coffee all over the table. Jack laughs: “Just kidding. You’ll be fine. Maybe. You should be more careful when making your assumptions about us.” He gets up and leaves, and David follows. In the observation room, Gerald is waiting for them. David, “Uh, hello, sir, we’re just trying to talk to this spy.” Gerald: “Have you gotten anything?” Jack: “No. In Gilboa, the spies have these fucked up loyalty tests, it basically makes sure they won’t say shit under sudden duress. I think I can get her to talk to us, but it’s gonna take time.” Gerald: “That won’t do. If Silas has a spy network in Gath, I need to know as soon as possible.” Jack: “I think I can get some real answers from her, but I’m gonna need more than an afternoon. It could take weeks, months even.” Gerald: “If you can’t get get me answers right now, I’m sending my professionals in.” Jack: “No, you don’t have to!” Gerald leaves. David: “Shit!” David rushes into the interrogation room, panicked, and speaks to the spy, “Look, Gerald is bringing his men in, and if you want us to be the ones dealing with you, you need to give us some answers, now!” Spy: “Fuck you, Shepherd! I know psychological pressure when I see it!” Two uniformed Gath officers enter behind David, one carrying an ominous-looking case that he sets on the desk. David: “Just tell us one thing!” Spy: “FUCK YOU!” One of the officers says, “Would you please leave the room, Captain Shepherd?” Spy: “Yeah, Captain Shepherd, we don’t need you any more!” David, with a defeated sigh: “Please, just tell them what you know.” David leaves. As the door closes, one of the officers open the case, and takes out a power drill. The two officers both look at the spy, and fear comes into the spy’s eyes. In the observation room, David and the others look on in wordless horror. David has to look away, “Do we have to stay here?” Abby, shaking: “This is in violation of so many international laws!” Joel: “International laws don’t mean shit in Gath.” David: “Seriously, if we don’t have to be here, I’m leaving.” He stands up, and the others follow him. Out in the hallway, Gerald stops David, “Can I speak with you privately once more?” David looks at the others, “I’ll catch up with you.” The others leave, and David turns to Gerald, “What do you want?” Gerald: “I’ve come to appreciate how valuable your allyship has been to Gath. I don’t want to let it go unpaid. If you continue to help us, David, I’m willing to offer autonomy to the borderlands.”

#Kings

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flauntpage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn't.

When you're going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

"I volunteer." Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week's obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we'll get to that in a bit.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Yes, that actually happened. I'm sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let's watch.

Nope, it's our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That's called synergy, kids.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

"I'm counting my blessings," says the nurse, before hanging a bright red "NO VISITORS" sign on the door. Like I said, it's very subtle.

"I'll drop my defenses for you anytime." I think she likes them, you guys.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

0 notes

flauntpage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn't.

When you're going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

"I volunteer." Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week's obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we'll get to that in a bit.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Yes, that actually happened. I'm sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let's watch.

Nope, it's our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That's called synergy, kids.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

"I'm counting my blessings," says the nurse, before hanging a bright red "NO VISITORS" sign on the door. Like I said, it's very subtle.

"I'll drop my defenses for you anytime." I think she likes them, you guys.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

0 notes

flauntpage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn't.

When you're going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

"I volunteer." Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week's obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we'll get to that in a bit.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Yes, that actually happened. I'm sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let's watch.

Nope, it's our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That's called synergy, kids.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

"I'm counting my blessings," says the nurse, before hanging a bright red "NO VISITORS" sign on the door. Like I said, it's very subtle.

"I'll drop my defenses for you anytime." I think she likes them, you guys.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

0 notes

flauntpage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn't.

When you're going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

"I volunteer." Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week's obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we'll get to that in a bit.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Yes, that actually happened. I'm sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let's watch.

Nope, it's our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That's called synergy, kids.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

"I'm counting my blessings," says the nurse, before hanging a bright red "NO VISITORS" sign on the door. Like I said, it's very subtle.

"I'll drop my defenses for you anytime." I think she likes them, you guys.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

0 notes

flauntpage · 7 years

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic

Three Stars of Comedy

(By the way, this is the second time in Grab Bag history that one person has swept all three stars with one shot. Go ahead and guess who the other one was.)

Outrage of the Week

The outrage: Wow, that seems high.

So yes, the deal is way too high. But also: No, it isn't.

When you're going after the big bucks. Photo by Gary A. Vasquez-USA TODAY Sports

The NHL USA Hockey Actually Got Something Right

Now on to the bigger question: Should the NHL follow suit?

"I volunteer." Photo by Tom Szczerbowski-USA TODAY Sports

Obscure Former Player of the Week

This week's obscure player is winger Doug Brown because, well, we'll get to that in a bit.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Yes, that actually happened. I'm sure it will be good wholesome fun for the whole family. Let's watch.

Nope, it's our old friend Doug Brown. See how these sections all link together? That's called synergy, kids.

Can we just point out that Brown is walking around in full uniform?

"I'm counting my blessings," says the nurse, before hanging a bright red "NO VISITORS" sign on the door. Like I said, it's very subtle.

"I'll drop my defenses for you anytime." I think she likes them, you guys.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected] .

DGB Grab Bag: Draisaitl's Deal, Icing the Rules, and the Devils Get Dramatic published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

0 notes