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forensicated · 2 months

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Smiffina Episodes: Gun Runner Part 2 - Undercover (2/5)

This episode starts on the same day as the last with an exhausted Mel glad that she only has half an hour left of her first shift. Roger suggests the canteen for some caffeine when a call comes in.

(Another of Smithy's favourites is to see who blinks first 😂😂)

Their call is to a young lad who has been knocked off his bike. He's ultimately fine but his bike isn't! Nate and Ben are the latest victims of the 'No you can't drink your tea, officer!' trope and have to pour their just purchased drinks away to chase after the car. They stop it a short distance away to find a traumatised Becca behind the wheel with head injuries. The paramedics tell Mel they suspect sexual assault. She made DV claims in the past against her former partner but withdrew them soon after. Banksy asks Mel to take her to the Haven, bag her clothes collect the swabs for investigation.

Max and Neil tell Heaton the Figgis sting was a success and that they overheard a mention of a deal with a Wallace. This has turned out to be Kieran Wallace who has form for ABH, GBH, Aggravated Burglary and everything else not very nice. His name has been mentioned a couple of times by Trident connected with the trade of guns from Eastern Europe. Figgis insists he knows nothing of a Wallace until Stevie points out that over the last few months there's been over 50 calls to Wallace's mobile from his. Stevie says he won't be charged if he helps them. If he doesn't, then they'll find out another way and arrest him too and he'll likely never see his son. Figgis reluctantly tells her he's been reactivating guns for Wallace who hires/sells in London on a large scale. He doesn't know where they're kept, where they're going to or anything else as he's only done a couple of jobs for them.

Stevie reports back about Wallace and an unnamed boss. Figgis isn't able to do the job anymore due to the damage to his arm when stabbed. Heaton sums up the options. Human/electronic surveillance and hope to catch them out or put someone undercover. Wallace trusts Figgis and there's a valid excuse for someone taking over at his recommendation. It needs to be someone who can go undercover for a while without leaving any loose ends like partners/family etc as they don't know how long it will be for. Neil suggests Max who says he's up for it given his CO19 background. Heaton suggests they need someone with a similar background to Figgis and experience of the Army weapons. It can only be Smithy! Max isn't too sure, he thinks that Smithy is too emotionally involved with gun crime after Carly's death. Smithy instantly says he'll do it and that he understands he could be undercover for a long time - weeks, months - maybe longer. Neil tells Smithy to speak to Figgis the next day to set up their story and background together and places Max as his handler. The two exchange a rather... wary... look (though the second bit makes it look like Christopher might be about to laugh!)

(Can Nate stop jogging everywhere? He makes me tired just looking!)

The next morning Smithy is in a contemplative mood and barely acknowledges the relief whilst they walk in. Max takes him straight through to an interview room to talk to Figgis. He can keep Smithy/Smith as his nickname/surname so he reacts naturally to being called it but they change his first name to Laurence - the name of his best friend at Primary School. They're going to get Figgis to contact Wallace with them in the room and tell them he can't do the job after a gun backfired on him but that he knows a man who can.

Hairs were found on Becca's clothes that didn't belong to her and the CSE are at her flat looking for a point of entry. She was washing up and an unknown man crept up behind her and pawed at her. She was so frightened she ran away as soon as he loosened his grip - because she cried - and part of that was getting in her car and just driving anywhere he wasn't. She didn't see his face and can only remember he was about 6ft wearing black jeans and rough leather gloves that were old and scuffed white trainers. Becca's boyfriend, Pete, is present. Becca seems stilted and awkward around him and admits that she has a dodgy lock on the door. Pete says he showed her that the door can be opened with a credit card swipe. Her ex boyfriend also knows about the dodgy lock. They split up a about a month and half ago and he's been harassing her since with a brick through the window, graffiti on the door and more.

Smithy and Figgis set up a backstory of meeting at The Boat Inn a year ago - long enough to trust him but not to know all dirty little secrets. The see each other about once a fortnight at the pub. They set up a meeting at 11am at a nearby park bandstand. Neil tells Smithy to read his body language to see if he's jumpy and rushed and if he needs the job doing quickly or if they have time. They're hoping that Figgis vouching for him means that he's more likely to accept Smithy as his replacement but they have to be alert to work with what they get just incase he doesn't get in.

Banksy rules the boyfriend out as he has a clear alibi. Roger finds Becca's ex's car parked nearby when reviewing CCTV. His flat is miles away. When searching his flat, Mel finds a picture of Becca in the bin. Rick claims he doesn't know what's happened and he says he was checking up on Becca to make sure she was OK. They'd been together five years and he claims he still cares about her. He then switches to calling her cheap and filthy and insisting he never touched her. Banksy reminds them they have his DNA and will be checking it against that on Becca. He just smirks and says it'll prove he wasn't there. Banksy still has a strong suspicion he was involved, even when Roger and Mel don't find the trainers or gloves and float the suggestion that he could have had an accomplice. "Who would do that? it's not your average favour is it!" Mel shudders.

Smithy tries to calm Figgis down as he paces the bandstand. Wallace finally arrived and approaches the bandstand. A goon blocks the gates behind him so Max can't 'casually' get near whilst walking through the park. Wallace is not happy with Figgis, squeezing his wound and making it bleed again. Smithy distracts Wallace and gets Figgis away by claiming he was there for a job and if they're just playing around he hasn't got time and they're leaving. Figgis warns him he really shouldn't get involved with Wallace. Smithy has to drive him to the hospital to get his arm checked again - it turns out Wallace has made the damage even worse - not that Max could care less.

Max growls at Smithy that he wasted the opportunity and that he "should have sealed the deal before stropping off." Smithy points out it's not over yet and that he wasn't biting so they had to change tact. Stevie agrees and it would have been worse if he was too keen and it made him look like he's worth chasing. Smithy repeats he knows what he's doing and he did the right thing by all concerned. Max scoffs and tells him he lost the biggest arms dealer in London.

Smithy receives a call a short while later from Wallace. Stevie arrives and starts speaking. Smithy intervenes to cut her off and tell her he's on the phone. He excuses her interruption as 'his girlfriend' and continues, agreeing to meet Wallace. Smithy reports upstairs to Max and tells him he has the job. Wallace wants him to check some handguns to check his skills at the Bull And Bush pub at 5pm and won't be moved on day or time. Max tells him to update Neil and the Super and he'll start getting everything in place.

Nate reports the landlord of a pub recognises the description of Becca's attacker. He says he was jumpy, drank a lot of whiskey in a short amount of time and called a cab from the payphone. The camera is broken but Nate has gotten hold of the two cab numbers by the phone. Pete, Becca's boyfriend is nearly arrested for assaulting Rick, claiming the police should have kept him in. Rick says he doesn't want Pete arrested. Pete goes back to check on Becca.

Max has been working with covert ops to arrange a driving licence, tax records, credit cards and accomodation (complete with CCTV) in the name of Laurence Smith with Stevie as Laurence's girlfriend. They'll track him on GPS via a new mobile and Max's number is stored as 'solicitor' in it. The danger code word is Eagle and can be said to Max/Stevie by text/call/in person and they'll get him out immediately. They're telling uniform that Smithy will be taking some time out for personal reasons. Heaton takes him aside before he goes to work through his new life background with Stevie to ask him if he's fully aware of what he's taking on. They can't say how long he'll be undercover for and obviously there's no contact with friends or family. He asks if there's any family "It's only really me mum so..." and he asks what he's going to tell his friends. "Mainly this lot and that will be taken care of officially." Ugh. My heart. I also don't believe it for a second! He's roughly 30ish at this point. Smithy's been over various nicks, CO19, in the army and through school/Hendon etc. He's a personable bloke on the whole - played for at least one police football team, there was Vickers and Tony Mitchell seen onscreen from his past and whilst yes, they're not great examples, they were still longish term mates and wouldn't be the only ones (*cough* Bob. Nick (now Weaver's dead he could be out of Witness Protection😉 ), Julie Stanley?). I know this makes it convenient and removes complications from an already complicated and complex story but... I'm too protective of this damn boy after like what... 25 years!?

Stevie cheekily grins at the thought of digging into Smithy's past. She asks about girlfriends first so she knows who she's going to base herself on, asking for the most recent or the one who meant the most. Smithy describes Louise Larson but makes her totally different to what she really was, not able or wanting to tell the truth as obviously it would mean mentioning her death and him being set up and going to prison. He tells her they dated for 6 months and that it ended because she met another teacher at the school she 'worked at'. Stevie knows he's not telling the truth. He has to tell her the truth - it's not easy! He then goes on to explain that he doesn't know where his dad was, he hasn't seen him for 10 plus years as he was a violent alcoholic who knocked him and his mum about. Smithy still feels the guilt that he'd go out with his mates rather than stay home 'because it was easier'. [They've also forgotten about the younger brother he mentioned he had when he was a PC because he details climbing out the window of his bedroom and leaving her home alone with his dad]. "Blimey, how much do you charge? I feel like Tony Soprano."

Stevie asks Smithy if he misses the Army. He replies with an emphatic no, but he might do if he hadn't joined the police. "I obviously need order, discipline and uniforms." Max arrives shortly after with a new passport, house keys for 52 Breem Street and other personal documents and takes Smithy's warrant card from him.

Nate has a partial address for the man that they suspect to have attacked Becca. They run facial recognition once they find him and his address but he has no previous. He's confused as to why he's been arrested, he is very awkward but he admits that he was 'visiting Rebecca' and he slid his credit card down the yale lock like she told him to to get into the flat. He admits to creeping up on her and putting his hand over her mouth and then touching her up all as she'd told Mel in her interview but he surprises Banksy by telling him it was all consensual and previously agreed and Becca had told him over email and in a chat room that she wanted him to do it to her and to pretend to force her. He says she was very clear what she wanted from him before it happened. Banksy explains that it's not Becca that he'd been talking with. He still has some of the emails to back himself up. "I'm not a lunatic! I know it was her, I know I got the right house! She sent me a photo! A lovely one of her on the beach." - The same photo that Mel pulled out the bin at Rick's. He insists he was just acting out a fantasy and he thought at first it was just her pretending to resist but he stopped when she cried. The tech guys trace it all back to Rick for sending the emails. Rick simply shrugs when Banksy asked him why he sent Jez to rape Becca. Banksy suggests that he was going to play the hero and rescue her. Rick scoffs, claiming he doesn't want her back. He insists he was going to stop it from happening as he'd realised he'd gone too far, but noone was there when he got there so it must have happened earlier than they'd agreed. He arranged it to get back at her for dumping him. Becca is horrified to hear what happened. Mel assures her Rick will likely be going to prison for causing a person to engage in sexual activity without their consent. Jez will be charged with sexual assault.

Neil sends Max to sit at the bar in the pub that Smithy will be meeting Wallace at. Stevie is sat outside in the car. They're not to step in unless they hear the codeword 'Eagle' from Smithy. Wallace keeps Smithy waiting before finally arriving 2 heavies. Smithy is abducted and taken out to the car where he's forced inside. At an abandoned warehouse Smithy is blindfolded and has a gun pressed to his temple. The gun is moved to his hand and he's told to strip it. Smithy does whilst still blindfolded and then puts it back together in seconds and hands it back to Wallace. They remove the blindfold. "Figgis is right. You're pretty good. Nice one, I'm impressed. And you kept your cool... you're in. Now get out. I'll be in touch." He tells him. Smithy calls Max once he's alone and tells him that he's in.

He then heads to his new house and is less than impressed There's dogs barking, neighbours music blaring and it's sparse and unwelcoming to say the least. In his head [a voiceover for the viewers], Max and Heaton's words echo, asking if he's sure he knows what he's taking on for the next however long.

#the bill #alex walkinshaw #dale smith #smithy #max carter #christopher fox #andrew lancel #neil manson #daniel flynn #john heaton #gun runner part 2 #gun runner part 2 undercover #gun runner undercover #stevie moss #lucy speed #kieran wallace #rupert hill

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scotianostra · 10 months

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Happy Birthday actor Tommy Flanagan who turns 58 today.

Flanagan was born in Eaterhouse, Glasgow on July 3rd 1965, the former painter and decorator got into acting after a stint DJ'ing and a violent episode which left him with his distinctive scars, he was randomly attacked outside a Glasgow bar, slashed horribly and robbed.

His friend Robert Carlyle then persuaded him to join him with his theatre company, Raindog Theatre, but it was not an overnight success for either of them as Flannagan admitted in an interview neither of them ha “a pot to piss in” he remembers “touring the Highlands in this old blue Transit van, but it had a broken window. It was so freezing inside, one of us had to hold a piece of cardboard up to stop the wind coming in.”

Two years later, he, and almost every other actor in Scotland, appeared in Braveheart. But Flanagan stood out. Mel Gibson told him to come to America. A year later, the Scot did, but the journey west was more about being with his then wife Rachel, an American film producer. Rachel, was from San Diego and he followed her home.

Of course Tommy had appeared in a couple of things beforehand, the obligatory Taggart being the standout, but it was after the William Wallace romp that he got noticed, Rab C Nesbit, A Mugs Game and The Saint followed that, of The Saint, he confirms something I assumed for a few years "Val Kilmer is a prick”.

Tommy got roles in Face Off , The Game and Plunkett & Macleane before the excellent Ratcatcher, set in 1970’s Glasgow and written and directed by fellow Glaswegian Lynne Ramsay, Flanagan plays the main part’s Da, George Gillespie, if you haven’t seen it do so, it’s a great film. One person who agrees with me about Ratcatcher is actress Drew Barrymore, who had seen Tommy in the film and called him up and offered him a part, of the film Tommy admits “You get to have your ass kicked by Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu and Drew Barrymore. What’s bad about that?” Who gave you the best ass-kicking? “That’d be Lucy.”

Among Tommy’s other films are Trauma, Smoking Aces and Sin City, he was making a steady living in Hollywood but it wasn’t until the part of Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford in Sons of Anarchy in 2008 that people started recognising him for his acting, rather than the glesga guy in the films with scar, he is also an occasional face in the spin off Mayans MC.

The series was an international hit. But Flanagan had mixed feelings about the role. His character was called Chibs, for a start. Flanagan didn’t miss the irony; he’d gone to Hollywood to forget the worst memories of Glasgow life and was playing the sort of creature who’d attacked him.

Flanagan admits to previously playing up to the hard man characters he portrays, but his wild days have been behind him since meeting Dina his second wife, they have been married for 12 years now and they have a daughter together.

Tommy has recently appeared in the TV series’, Westworld and Wu Assassins which are on Sky Atlantic and Netflix respectively. We also seen him in the movie There Are No Saints, teaming up with SOA co-star Ron Perlman and fellow Scot Brian Cox, I wasn’t impressed with the film, but if you like action and gore you might want to give it a go.

I have been more impressed with Tommy in the latest instalments of the Power Book series, where protagonist Tommy Egan heads for Chicago and pits his wits against Walter Flynn, played by Flanagan. The series can be viewed as a stand alone, or you can go back and watch the beginnings in Power, which ran from 2014 to 2020.

Tommy will be back with season two of the gangster saga which is premiering on September 1st. Tommy has two movie projects set for next year, Road Movie Casey and Mary and Sleeping Dogs.

#scotland #scottish #actor #glaswegian #glasgow #cinema #television #happy birhtday

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conflicted-crowd · 2 years

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Muses and Faceclaims

Will give bios upon request

Harry Potter

Harry Potter - Daniel Radcliffe

Hermione Granger - Emma Watson

Molly Weasley - Julie Walters

Ginny Weasley - Bonnie Wright

Fred Weasley - James Phelps

Charlie Weasley - Sam Heughan

Draco Lucius Malfoy - Tom Felton

Newt Scamander - Eddie Redmayne

Severus Snape - Alan Rickman

Alexander Snape - Finn Wittrock

Victor Simon Napoleon Silverwick - Julian Morris

Donavon Andrews - Domhnall Gleeson

Nathan Christopher Wells - Luke Newberry

Scarlet Wells - Julianne Moore

Twilight

Oliver Cullen - Timothée Chalamet

Jasper Hale - Jackson Rathbone

Carlisle Cullen - Peter Facinelli

Edward Cullen - Robert Patterson

Alice Cullen - Ashley Greene

Emmett Cullen - Kellan Lutz

Rosalie Hale - Nikki Reed

Aro - Michael Sheen

Seth Clearwater - Booboo Stewart

Leah Clearwater - Julia Jones

Percy Jackson

Thomas Ryan Soleil - Calum Worthy

Theodore "Teddy" Castellan - Jake Abel

Charlotte Sienna Miles - Megan Fox

Ares - Dave Navarro

Hades - Richard Madden

Persephone - Isla Fisher

Hadestown

Orpheus - Reeve Carney

Star Wars

Zade Kalliday - Mattias Inwood

The Umbrella Academy

Allison Hargreeves - Emmy Raver-Lampman

Disney

Prince Eric - Diego Boneta

Flynn Rider - Jake Gyllenhaal

Pascal - Asa Butterfield

Pitch Black - Benedict Cumberbatch

Jack Frost (younger) - Lucky Blue Smith

Jack Frost (older) - Martin Short

Scott - John McCrea

Harry Hook - Timothy Doherty

Belle - Samantha Barks

Mirabel Madrigal - Morena Baccarin

Bruno Madrigal - Jesus Luz

Camilo Madrigal - Tre Samuels

In the Heights

Usnavi - Anthony Ramos

Dark Shadows

Barnabas Collins - Johnny Depp

Gotham

Oswald Cobblepot - Robin Lord Taylor

Jervis Tetch - Benedict Samuel

Peter "Puck" Davies - Peter Mark Kendall

Scott Pilgrim vs the World

Wallace Wells - Kieran Culkin

Schitts Creek

David Rose - Dan Levy

Patrick Brewer - Noah Reid

Ted Mullens - Dustin Mulligan

Santa Clarita Diet

Joel Hammond - Timothy Olyphant

Something Rotten!

William Shakespeare - Christian Borle

Cabin Pressure

Martin Crieff - Benedict Cumberbatch

Arthur Shappey - John Finemore

Brooklyn 99

Raymond Holt - Andre Braugher

Dear Evan Hansen

Evan Hansen - Ben Platt

Be More Chill

Michael Mell - George Salazar

Shadow and Bone

Matthias Helvar - Calahan Skogman

Fedyor Kaminsky - Julian Kostov

Genya Safin - Daisy Head

iCarly

Spencer Shay - Jerry Trainor

Freddie Benson - Nathan Kress

Atypical

Zahid Raja - Nikki Dodani

Casey Gardner - Brigette Lundy-Paine

Sherlock

Sherlock Holmes - Benedict Cumberbatch

Marvel

Samantha Barnes - Katharine McPhee

Vision - Paul Bettany

Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton - Jonathon Bradley

Good Omens

Anthony Crowley - David Tennant

You

Joe Goldberg - Penn Badgely

Lord of the Rings

Legolas - Orlando Bloom

Pippin Took - Billy Boyd

Samwise Gamgee - Sean Astin

Faelyn Haemir - Andrew Garfield

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Lucifer Morningstar - Luke Cook

Hilda Spellman - Lucy Davis

Sabrina Spellman Morningstar- Kiernan Shipka

Prudence Blackwood - Tati Gabrielle

Jesse Scratch - Jay Hayden

Devin Ryder - Tyler Posey

Jordan Undergrove - Adam Brody

Stardust

Elysia - Zoey Deutch

Heathers

Jason Dean (JD) - Christian Slater Les Miserables

Marius Pontmercy - Eddie Redmayne

Friends

Monica Geller - Courtney Cox

Ross Geller - David Schwimmer

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner - Thomas Gibson

Derek Morgan - Shemar Moore

Legend of the Seeker

Seraphina Renae - Amy Adams

Darken Rahl - Craig Parker

Fandomless

Rosetta Anastasia Glennwood - Dianna Agron

James Glennwood - James Spader

Sophia Ella McKenzie - Lily James

Isaiah Michael Smith - David Corenswet

Victoria Marie Julietta Harrington - Anne Hathaway

Greyson Richard Michaels - Nick Robinson

Damien Ryder Flare - Joel McHale

Travis Wright - Andrew Rannells

Daniel Storm - Cillian Murphy

Antonio Frances - Cheyenne Jackson

Jamie Taylor - Ross Lynch

Dean Taylor - Harry Connick Jr

Spencer Taylor - Evan Peters

Parker Eaton - Jonathan Groff

Tyler Eaton - Ben Platt

Warren Hall - Jordan Bridges

Xavier Collins - Tom Payne

Henry Sparks - Freddie Highmore

Axel Simmons - Chris McNally

Levi Haynes - Louis Partridge

Andrew Bentley - Aneurin Barnard

Prince Clifton Whitehall - Andrew Scott

Prince Carson Whitehall - Andrew Scott

Lane Dallaway - Ben Levi Ross

#muses

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themattress · 3 years

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I made a tier list for Pokemon Masters voices for all characters as of the current update.

Definitive voices are those that I just can’t unhear as the voice for the character eclipsing all others. Good voices are those that do just fine but either could have done better, suffer from comparison to better voices in other renditions of the character, or sound too similar to other renditions for it to matter. Bad voices are just...ugh, just what the Hell were they thinking!?

List behind cut (with updates applied):

DEFINITIVE VOICES: Aaron (Kevin K. Gomez) Acerola (Christine Marie Cabanos) Adaman (Micah Solusod) Alder (Cam Clarke) Anabel (Alexis Tipton) Archer (Christian La Monte) Arianna (Amber Lee Connors) Bede (Beau Bridgland) Blaine (Kirk Thornton) Brawly (Jon Allen) Brendan (Aleks Le) Bruno (Greg Chun) Bugsy (Cristina Vee) Caitlin (Sarah Miller-Crewes) Cheryl (Laura Post) Chuck (Bob Carter) Claire (Sarah Williams) Clay (Kirk Thornton) Courtney (Anjali Kunapaneni) Crasher Wake (Kyle Hebert) Cynthia (Allegra Clark) Cyrus (Armen Taylor) Diantha (Antonia Flynn) Emma (Jennie Kwan) Erika (Xanthe Huynh) Evelyn (Emi Lo) Faba (Alexander Gross) Gardenia (Erica Mendez) Ghetsis (Mick Wingert) Glacia (Katelyn Gault) Gladion (Alan Lee) Gloria (Della Saba / Stephanie Southerland) Grimsley (Greg Chun) Guzma (Doug Erholtz) Hapu (Della Saba) Hilbert (Griffin Burns) Hilda (Erica Mendez) Hugh (Stephen Fu) Hop (Vargus Mason) Irida (Maureen Price) Iris (Cassandra Lee Morris) Jainine (Janice Kawaye) Jasmine (Kimberly Woods) Jupiter (Brittany Cox) Kahili (Janice Kawaye) Karen (Mela Lee) Koga (Christopher Bevins) Korrina (Ryan Bartley) Kris (Chermai Leigh) Lance (Bill Millsap) Leon (Cedric Williams) Lisia (Brittany Cox) Lillie (Jennifer Losi) Looker (Mick Lauer) Lucas (Griffin Puatu) Lucian (Brandon McInnis) Lysandre (D.C Douglas) Malva (Morgan Berry) Matt (Mike Smith) Marlon (Ray Chase) Marnie (Cristina Vee) Marley (Dorothy Elias-Fahn) Mars (Christie Cate) Maylene (Erica Lindbeck) Melony (Wendee Lee) Mina (Cherami Leigh) Morty (Brian Hanford) Nate (Kyle Castellani) Nita (Jenny Yokobori) Noland (Kaiji Tang) Norman (Keith Silverstein) Petrel (Todd Haberkorn) Phoebe (Cristina Vee) Piers (Aleks Le) Plumeria (Michelle Ruff) Professor Kukui (Alejandro Saab) Proton (Clifford Chapin) Pryce (Kyle Hebert) Ramos (Steve Kramer) Roark (Alejandro Saab) Rosa (Kayli Mills) Roxanne (Sarah Miller-Crewes) Sabrina (Lizzie Freeman) Saturn (Mike Haimoto) Shadow Triad (Ben Balmaceda) Shauna (Daisy Guevara) Shauntal (Kira Buckland) Sidney (SungWon Cho) Siebold (Sean Chiplock) Silver (Joe Zieja) Skyla (Laura Stahl) Sonia (Morgan Garrett (Sonia) Tate & Liza (Cassandra Lee Morris & Kira Buckland) Tierno (Jordan Dash Cruz) Thorton (Jon Allen) Trevor (Greg Vinciguerra) Valerie (Skyler Davenport) Victor (Ben Thao) Wallace (Mikey Caputo) Wally (Melissa Mabie) Whitney (Sarah Williams) Will (Phillip Reich) Winona (Jeannie Tirado) Zinnia (Vivian Lu)

GOOD VOICES: Agatha (Dorothy Elias-Fahn) Archie (Adin Rudd) Ash Ketchum (Sarah Natochenny) Ball Guy (Kellen Goff) Barry (Erik Kimerer) Bea (Shara Kirby) Bertha (Dorah Fine) Bianca (Erika Harlacher) Blue (Billy Kametz / Henry Mason) Brock (Tommy Arciniega) Calem (Zach Aguilar) Candice (Ryan Bartley) Cheren (Landon McDonald) Chili (Adriel Varlack) Clemont (Kyle McCarley) Colress (Y. Chang) Cress (Kory Getman) Dawn (Kimberley Anne Campbell) Drasna (???) Elesa (Deborah Gatton) Elio (Mike Dent) Ethan (Ted Sroka) Eusine (Connor Ludovice) Falkner (Howard Wang) Fantina (Karen Strassman) Flannery (Laura Post) Flint (Landon McDonald) Gordie (David Matranga) Grant (Erik Kimerer) Giovanni (Andrew Russell) Hala (Kane Jungbluth-Murry) Helena (Kimberly Anne Campbell) Ingo & Emmett (Jordan Reynolds & J Michael Tatum) Jessie & James (Michelle Ruff & James Carter Cathcart) Kali (Lisa Reimold) Kiawe (Chris Jai Alex) Lana (Amanda Lee) Leaf (Michelle Marie) Lorelei (Lauren Landa) Lt. Surge (Patrick Seitz) Lucy (Carrie Keranen) Lusamine (Michelle Ruff) Lyra (Della Saba / Madeline Dorroh) Mallow (Amber Connor) Maxie (Jarred Kjack) May (Deneen Melody) Misty (Reba Buhr) Molayne (Ezra Weisz) N (Daman Mills) Naomi (Lindsay Sheppard) Nanu (Sean Chiplock) Nessa (Tiana Camacho) Oleana (Linsay Rousseau) Professor Oak (Joe J. Thomas) Rose (Maaz Ali) Roxie (Brianna Knickerbocker) Selene (Christina McBride) Serena (Jackie Lastra) Shelly (Dani Chambers) Sophocles (Jeannie Tirado) Steven Stone (Xander Mobus) Tabitha (Van Barr Jr.) Volkner (Chris Hackney) Wikstrom (Brad Venable) Wulfric (Jamieson Price)

BAD VOICES: Brycen (Christopher Bevins) Burgh (Ezra Weisz) Cilan (Caleb Yen) Drake (Steve Kramer) Hau (Laura Stahl) Marshal (Phillip Reich) Olivia (Julia McIlvanie) Professor Sycamore (Ben Lepley) Raihan (Mike Dent) Viola (Brianna Knickerbocker)

#Pokemon #Pokemon Masters #Opinion #Analysis #Comparison

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years

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A GIRL, A GUY, AND A GOB

March 14, 1941

Directed by Richard Wallace

Produced by Harold Lloyd for RKO Radio Pictures

Written by Bert Granet and Frank Ryan, based on a story by Grover Jones

Synopsis ~ A shy, quiet executive for a shipping firm who finds himself with a dilemma: he’s become smitten with his young temporary secretary but she’s the girlfriend of his Navy buddy - and the buddy is scheduled to be discharged in only a few days.

Note: “Gob” is a slang word for a sailor. This term first showed up in regard to sailors around 1909 and may have come from the word gobble. Reportedly, some people thought that sailors gobbled their food. The term also may come from the word gob, which means to spit, something sailors also reportedly do often.

PRINCIPAL CAST

Lucille Ball as (Dorothy ‘Dotty’ Duncan aka ‘The Girl’) is in her 52nd film since coming to Hollywood in 1933.

George Murphy (Claudius ‘Coffee’ Cup aka ‘The Gob’) was in four films with Lucille Ball between 1934 and 1941. In 1959, Murphy served as guest host of “The Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse” when Desi Arnaz took a role in his own anthology series. He was also a performer in “The Desilu Revue” aired in December 1959. As the host of “MGM Parade”, he interviewed Lucy and Desi in February 1956.

Edmond O'Brien (Stephen Herrick aka ‘The Guy’) won an Oscar in 1955 for The Barefoot Contessa. He was nominated a second time in 1965.

Henry Travers (Abel Martin) was nominated for an Oscar for Mrs. Miniver in 1943. He is best remembered for playing Clarence the Angel in It’s A Wonderful Life (1946).

Franklin Pangborn (Pet Shop Owner) did four films with Lucille Ball between 1937 and 1946.

George Cleveland (Pokey Duncan) did four more films with Lucille Ball till 1949.

Kathleen Howard (Jawme) makes her only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Marguerite Chapman (Cecilia Grange) makes her only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Lloyd Corrigan (Pigeon) did Two Smart People with Lucille Ball in 1949. He played the minister in “The Milton Berle Lucy-Desi Special” in 1959. He also did three episodes of “The Lucy Show.”

Mady Correll (Cora) makes her only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Frank McGlynn, Sr. (Pankington) makes his only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Doodles Weaver (Eddie) makes his only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Frank Sully (Salty) did four films with Lucille Ball before playing the man who delivers “The Freezer” on “I Love Lucy.”

Nella Walker (Mrs. Grange) also appeared with Lucille Ball in Fugitive Lady (1934).

Richard Lane (Recruiting Officer) previously appeared in three films with Lucille Ball in 1937 and 1938.

Irving Bacon (Mr. Merney) did seven films with Lucille Ball before playing Mr. Willoughby in in “The Marriage License” (1952) and Will Potter in “Ethel’s Hometown” (1955).

Rube Demarest (Ivory) makes his only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Charles Smith (Messenger) makes her only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Bob McKenzie (Porter) appeared in three other films with Lucille Ball.

Nora Cecil (Charwoman) makes her only appearance with Lucille Ball.

UNCREDITED CAST

SAILORS

James Bush (Sailor Taking Address Book), Charles Flynn (Thin Sailor), Jack Lescoulie, George Ford, Art Rowlands, *Bernard Sell

HUSTLERS

Tom Quinn, Cyril Ring, Ralph Brooks

AT THE OPERA

Edward Peil Sr. (Assistant Manager), Eddie Arden (Opera Page Boy), Warren Ashe (Ticket Taker), Blue Washington (Doorman), Jimmy Cleary (Program Boy), Tom Costello (Floor Manager), William A. Boardway (Patron), Walter Byron (Patron), James Carlisle (Patron), Jean Fowler (Patron), Kenneth Gibson (Patron), Carl M. Leviness (Patron), John George (Newsboy Outside Opera House)

AT THE DANCE HALL

Carolyn Hughes (Girl), Charles Irwin (Emcee), Eddie Borden (Man), Eddie Hart (Ticket Taker #2), Dewey Robinson (Bouncer), Ronald R. Rondell (Ticket Taker)

AT THE MARRIAGE BUREAU & WEDDING CHAPEL

Wade Boteler (Uniformed Attendant), Homer Dickenson (Wedding Chapel Attendant), Harry "Snub" Pollard (Attendant), Wade Boteler (Uniformed Attendant), Fern Emmett (Middle-Aged Woman at Marriage Bureau), Henry Roquemore (Middle-Aged Man at Marriage Bureau), Effie Anderson (Marriage Bureau Clerk), Hal K. Dawson (Photographer)

IN THE STREETS: PEDESTRIANS, BYSTANDERS, OBSERVERS

Mary Field (Woman on Street), Vince Barnett (Pedestrian), Leon Belasco (Taxi Driver), George Lloyd (Bystander Smoking Cigar), Joe Bernard (Tattoo Artist), George McKay (Joe - Counterman), Vince Barnett (Bystander with Packages), Victor Potel (Bystander Eating Popcorn), *Leon Belasco (First Taxi Driver), *Mike Lally (Second Taxi Driver), George Chandler (Bystander Betting Five Bucks), Irene Coleman (Bystander Watching Eddie Grow), Tom Coleman (Pedestrian), Andrew Tombes (Bus Conductor), Hal K. Dawson (Photographer), Edgar Dearing (Policeman), Fern Emmett (Middle-Aged Woman), Mary Field (Woman on Street), Bud Jamison (Tall Bystander), Tiny Jones (Passerby), Bert Moorhouse (Pedestrian), Bud Osborne (Bystander), Frank Mills (Laborer in Manhole), Andrew Tombes (Bus Conductor)

OTHERS

Sally Conlin (Little Girl)

Joe Geil (Boy)

Steve Pendleton (Mr. Adams)

Earle Hodgins (Sylvester P. Wurple)

Lloyd Ingraham (Announcer of Piano Winner)

Alex Pollard (Butler)

George Lollier (Grange's Chauffeur)

Alexander Pollard (Grange's Butler)

* actors who later did background work on Lucille Ball’s sitcoms.

3G TRIVIA

The film was dramatized for radio on “The Screen Guild Radio Theatre” on October 9, 1944, also starring Lucille Ball and George Murphy. They rerpised their roles on radio once again for “Old Gold Comedy Theatre” on February 11, 1945.

Maureen O'Hara was initially slated for the role played by Lucille Ball. Ball and O’Hara had done the 1940 film Dance, Girl, Dance together.

This film came towards the end of Lucille Ball's RKO days. She had already achieved leading lady status and would only make four more films for RKO before moving to MGM. She couldn’t know that she would one day own the studio with her husband, Desi Arnaz. Interestingly, RKO borrowed George Murphy from MGM for this film.

This film's earliest documented telecast took place in Altoona, Pennsylvania, on Sunday June 3, 1956 over TV station WFBG. That same week, Lucille Ball began filming season six of “I Love Lucy” in Hollywood.

In 1971, “The Carol Burnett Show” spoofed the film with “A Gob, a Girl and Her Galoshes".

The movie was referenced in the Emmy-winning documentary “Lucy and Desi: A Home Movie”.

#Lucille Ball #A Girl A Guy and a Gob #RKO #George Murphy #Edmond O'Brien #Irving Bacon #Henry Travers #Franklin Pangborn #Lloyd Corrigan #Mike Lally #Leon Belasco #1941

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inxanotherxworldx · 3 years

Text

Full cast of original characters:

Tom Welling as Jude Westmoreland, Rhiannon’s older brother

Olivia Wilde as Lucy Westmoreland-Montgomery, Rhiannon’s older sister

Merritt Patterson as Rhiannon Westmoreland

Dan Stevens as Maxwell “Max” Westmoreland, Rhiannon’s younger brother

Danielle Campbell as Diane Westmoreland, Rhiannon’s younger sister

Brad Pitt as Michael Westmoreland, Rhiannon’s father

Elizabeth Hurley as Nina Samson-Westmoreland, Rhiannon’s mother

James Marsden as Edward Westmoreland, Rhiannon’s uncle and Michael’s younger brother

Patrick Dempsey as Emmett Westmoreland, deceased, Rhiannon’s other uncle and Michael’s older brother

Jasmine Cephas Jones as Persephone “Percy” Wallace, Rhiannon’s long-time best friend, met the first day of university

Idris Elba as Theodore “Ted” Cooper, Emmett’s business partner and senior partner of Cooper & Westmoreland, Percy’s future father-in-law

Alfie Enoch as Flynn Cooper, Percy’s fiance and son of Ted Cooper

Jamie Dornan as Shane Abernathy, ATF agent and Rhiannon’s ex-fiance

More to come soon! This is more of a list for myself to keep track, but enjoy.

#in another world cast

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jhonfalco · 4 years

Video

vimeo

Client: Nike Agency: Wieden + Kennedy Executive Creative Directors: Jason Bagley, Eric Baldwin Creative Directors: Alberto Ponte, Ryan O’Rourke Copywriter: Dylan Lee Art Director: Naoki Ga Director of Production: Matt Hunnicutt Executive Producers: Jake Grand, Krystle Mortimore Senior Producers: Katie McCain, Byron T. Oshiro Associate Producers: Samson Selam, Shani Storey Global Brand Director: André Gustavo Brand Director: Kate Rutkowski Brand Manager: Paanii Annan Creative Operations Managers: Saba Spencer, David Ramirez Global Group Strategy Director: Andy Lindblade, Paula Bloodworth Media Team: Danny Sheniak, Reme Debisschop, Emily Dalton, Vivian Zhang, Graham Wallace, Claudia Iraheta Brand Strategy Directors: Nathan Goldberg, AJ Blumenthal Business Affairs: Karen Crossley, Edith Ortiz, Emily Kahn Broadcast Traffic: Sabrina Reddy, Billy Mucha Design Ops Manager/Design Producer: Alicia Kuna, Michael Rosenau, Michael Frediani Studio Designers: Joan Comellas, Jamon Sin, Mitch Wilson ____________________________________________________________________________ LIVE ACTION Production Company: Pulse Films Director: Oscar Hudson Director of Photography: Logan Triplett Live Action Producer: Dennis Beier Executive Producers: Darren Foldes Key Costumer: Chris Araujo Production Designer: Adam Wilson Managing Director: Hillary Rogers President - Commercial & Branded: Davud Karbassioun ____________________________________________________________________________ Post Production Design Design Studio: Elastic Art Director: Jeff Han Producers: Paul Makowski, Adam Goins Animators: Nader Husseini, Julia Wright, Chad Danieley, Aziz Dosmetov, Trix Taylor, Lucy Kim, Alex Silver Deputy Head of Production: Zach Wakefield Executive Producer: Luke Colson Head of Production: Kate Berry Managing Director: Jennifer Sofio Hall ------- VFX VFX Studio: a52 VFX Supervisor: Patrick Murphy CG Supervisor: Andy Wilkoff Lead Flame Artist: Patrick Murphy Flame Artists: Steve Wolff, Urs Furrer, Matt Sousa, Stefan Gaillot, Andy Rafael Barrios, Hugh Seville, Richard Hirst, Adam Flynn, Dan Ellis, Kevin Stokes, Chris Riley, Rod Basham, Michael Vaglienty, Enid Dalkoff, Susanne Scharping 3D Artists: Dustin Mellum Tracking: Joe Chiechi, Mike Bettinardi, Michael Cardenas Online Editors: Kevin Stokes, Chris Riley, Sam Kolber Producers: Andrew Rosenberger, Everett Cross, Jillian Lynes Executive Producers: Patrick Nugent & Kim Christensen Managing Director: Jennifer Sofio Hall ____________________________________________________________________________ COLOR Color Studio: a52 Color Colorist: Daniel De Vue Color Producer: Jenny Bright Executive Producer: Thatcher Peterson _________________________________________________________________________ EDITORIAL Editorial Company: JOINT Editor: Peter Wiedensmith, Jessica Baclesse Assistant Editor: Jasmine McCullough, JC Nuñez Footage Researcher: Izzie Raitt Producer: Kathleen Russell Production Coordinator: Aubree VanDercar Executive Producer: Leslie Carthy ____________________________________________________________________________ SOUND DESIGN Sound Design Company: JOINT Sound Designer: Noah Woodburn Audio Assistant: Natalie Huizenga Executive Producer: Leslie Carthy MIX Mix Compay: JOINT Audio Mixer: Noah Woodburn Audio Assistant: Natalie Huizenga Executive Producer: Leslie Carthy

#IFTTT #Vimeo

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theadorelocksly · 4 years

Text

Me? Posting art at a reasonable time? I’m just as shocked as you:O

Pet names are: Wallace, Frida, Chekov, and Luther.

Holler at me if you’d like to see the references I used:)

#i swear i tried with conner and rufus #i loce them but i suck at them:(#timeless #garcia flynn #garcy #lucy preston #timeless fanart #rufus carlin #jiya marri #wyatt logan #time team #my art #conner mason #lucys cat :3 #wallace(ᵔᴥᵔ)#chekov:p

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lustafters-a · 5 years

Text

a very, very extensive list of ships i’d love to write with the faceclaims i happen to have. bold means i can play said faceclaim ! lots of them are ,,, pretty wild, truthfully . i just got way too into this .

taron egerton x colin firth

taron egerton x jamie bell

taron egerton x richard madden

joseph morgan x leah pipes

joseph morgan x candice king

joseph morgan x phoebe tonkin

nico mirallegro x sharon rooney

nico mirallegro x jodie comer

nico mirallegro x russell tovey

nico mirallegro x hayley atwell

daniel gilles x phoebe tonkin

finn cole x molly gordon

finn cole x asa butterfield

finn cole x margot robbie

tom hardy x cillian murphy

tom hardy x michelle williams

tom hardy x charlotte riley

tom hardy x annabelle wallis

tom hardy x jack lowden

tom hardy x chris pine

katherine langford x ross butler

katherine langford x alisha boe

katherine langford x dylan minnette

katherine langford x alexandra shipp

cobie smulders x jake johnson

cobie smulders x chris evans

henry golding x emilia clarke

henry golding x constance wu

ross butler x zendaya

ross butler x noah centineo

rami malek x ben hardy

rami malek x joseph mazzello

rami malek x gwilym lee

joe alwyn x emma stone

joe alwyn x margot robbie

paul bettany x jennifer connnelly

keanu reeves x winona ryder

gwilym lee x joseph mazzello

gwilym lee x ben hardy

alvaro rico x ester exposito

alvaro rico x aron piper

alvaro rico x miguel bernardeau

aaron taylor-johnson x elizabeth olsen

aaron taylor-johnson x karen gillan

aaron taylor-johnson x thomas brodie sangster

colin firth x hugh grant

colin firth x emma thompson

sam claflin x lily collins

sam claflin x emilia clarke

sam claflin x tom glynn carney

sam claflin x max irons

sam claflin x douglas booth

sam claflin x natalie dormer

josh dylan x jeremy irvine

josh dylan x lily james

michael b jordan x tessa thompson

michael b jordan x zendaya

khylin rhambo x dylan sprayberry

khylin rhambo x michael johnston

trevante rhodes x andre holland

henry cavill x armie hammer

henry cavill x jason momoa

henry cavill x amy adams

henry cavill x gal gadot

henry cavill x elizabeth debicki

brett dier x haley lu richardson

brett dier x gina rodriguez

james norton x imogen poots

james norton x jessie buckley

james norton x lily james

james norton x eleanor tomlinson

joe keery x charlie heaton

joe keery x natalia dyer

joe keery x dacre montgomery

jason sudeikis x olivia wilde

jason sudeikis x charlie day

aubrey joseph x olivia holt

chadwick boseman x danai gurira

chadwick boseman x lupita nyong'o

ella purnell x asa butterfield

ella purnell x fionn whitehead

ella purnell x tom holland

ella purnell x tom sturridge

armie hammer x timothee chalamet

armie hammer x alicia vikander

armie hammer x lily collins

armie hammer x felicity jones

alex hogh andersen x katheryn winnick

alex hogh andersen x georgia hirst

alex hogh andersen x alicia agneson

luke benward x olivia holt

luke benward x danielle macdonald

luke benward x dove cameron

tom hiddleston x brie larson

tom hiddleston x jessica chastain

david harbour x winona ryder

ansel elgort x aneurin barnard

ansel elgort x lily james

tom holland x jake gyllenhaal

tom holland x letitia wright

tom holland x laura harrier

tom holland x daisy ridley

paul rudd x jennifer aniston

paul rudd x evangeline lilly

paul rudd x sebastian stan

matthew daddario x harry shum jr

matthew daddario x kat mcnamara

david tennant x billie piper

david tennant x karen gillan

jack lowden x saoirse ronan

jack lowden x aneurin barrnard

jack lowden x margot robbie

allen leech x tuppence middleton

allen leech x jessica brown-findlay

allen leech x matthew goode

elizabeth olsen x chris evans

elizabeth olsen x sebastian stan

sydney sweeney x jacob eldori

sydney sweeney x alexa demie

kathryn newton x kristine froseth

kathryn newton x olivia dejonge

kathryn newton x natasha liu bordizzo

brie larson x gemma chan

brie larson x lashana lynch

brie larson x zachary levi

brie larson x alicia vikander

tuppence middleton x callum turner

tuppence middleton x brian j smith

rachel keller x dan stevens

billie piper x gemma chan

marilyn lima x michel biel

emilia clarke x kit harington

jamie dornan x cillian murphy

hugh jackman x michelle williams

hugh jackman x jake gyllenhaal

hugh jackman x james mcavoy

hugh jackman x ryan reynolds

logan lerman x alexandra daddario

logan lerman x lily collins

logan lerman x selena gomez

logan lerman x emma watson

jake gyllenhaal x tom sturridge

jake gyllenhaal x sebastian stan

chris pine x gal gadot

chris pine x reese witherspoon

chris pine x emily blunt

chris pine x anne hathaway

chris pine x gugu mbatha raw

lily james x matt smith

lily james x jeremy irvine

rachel mcadams x matthew goode

rachel mcadams x ryan gosling

rachel mcadams x domhnall gleeson

rachel mcadams x cillian murphy

chris evans x sebastian stan

chris evans x robert downey jr

jacob eldori x alexa demie

max irons x douglas booth

max irons x emily browning

max irons x holliday grainger

max irons x samantha barks

noah centineo x kristine froseth

noah centineo x ariana grande

noah centineo x alexis ren

noah centineo x lily collins

mark ruffalo x reese witherspoon

mark ruffalo x robert downey jr

bradley simpson x shawn mendes

bradley simpson x sabrina carpenter

aidan turner x eleanor tomlinson

aidan turner x russel tovey

aidan turner x lenora crichlow

alex fitzalan x kristine froseth

alex fitzalan x toby wallace

alex fitazalan x natasha liu bordizzo

damien molony x johnathan bailey

damien molony x michael socha

damien molony x michelle keegan

chance perdomo x tati gabrielle

chance perdomo x gavin leatherwood

joseph mazzello x sebastian stan

joseph mazzello x lucy boynton

adele exarchopoulos x lea seydoux

charlize theron x emily blunt

charlize theron x jessica chastain

margot robbie x saoirse ronan

margot robbie x cara delevingne

margot robbie x alexander skarsgard

naomi scott x dacre montgomery

naomi scott x mena massoud

ashley benson x tyler blackburn

ashley benson x cara delevingne

jennifer morrison x lana parrilla

jennifer morison x colin o’donoghue

dan stevens x michelle dockery

dan stevens x emma watson

timothy olyphant x drew barrymore

max riemelt x tina desai

max riemelt x brian j smith

max riemelt x miguel angel silvestre

tom glynn carney x nicholas hoult

tom glynn carney x harry styles

tom glynn carney x fionn whitehead

tom glynn carney x anthony boyle

chace crawford x blake lively

zac efron x zendaya

zac efron x lily collins

robert pattinson x suki waterhouse

tyler young x james paxton

bill skarsgard x landon liboiron

asa butterfield x maisie williams

asa butterfield x britt robertson

asa butterfield x emma mackey

james d’arcy x hayley atwell

james d’arcy x ben whishaw

herman tommeraas x lisa teige

herman tommeraas x thomas hayes

kj apa x madelaine petsch

kj apa x britt robertson

kj apa x casey scott

fionn whitehead x aneurin barnard

jessica chastain x emily blunt

jessica chastain x anne hathaway

zachary levi x yvonne strahovski

zachary levi x mandy moore

zachary levi x benton thwaites

devon bostick x lily collins

dvon bostick x peyton list

john krasinski x jenna fischer

jamie bell x kate mara

tom ellis x james mcavoy

tom ellis x lesley ann brandt

tom ellis x aimee garcia

tom ellis x jensen ackles

tom ellis x kevin alejandro

douglas booth x bel powley

douglas booth x gemma chan

douglas booth x ellie bamber

douglas booth x iwan rheon

matthew goode x jamie dornan

matthew goode x teresa palmer

anthony boyle x sam clemmett

sebastian stan x anthony mackie

sebastian stan x jessica chastain

sebastian stan x tom hiddleston

sebastian stan x dianna agron

sebastian stan x chris hemsworth

robert downey jr x jude law

robert sheehan x antonia thomas

robert sheehan x david castaneda

robert sheehan x jamie campbell bower

robert sheehan x iwan rheon

robert sheehan x sofia boutella

robert sheehan x david tennant

tom hughes x sophie cookson

michiel huisman x blake lively

michiel huisman x gugu mbatha raw

michiel huisman x teresa palmer

michiel huisman x tatiana maslany

aneurin barnard x iwan rheon

aneurin barnard x karen gillan

aneurin barnard x natalie dormer

aneurin barnard x jodie comer

aneurin barnard x sophie cookson

aneurin barnard x freya mavor

jon hamm x january jones

jon hamm x michael sheen

jon hamm x dakota johnson

jon hamm x eiza gonzalez

chris hemsworth x tessa thompson

dacre montgomery x courtney eaton

callum turner x vanessa kirby

thomas hayes x josefine pettersen

gavin leatherwood x abigail cowen

gavin leatherwood x ross lynch

gavin leatherwood x kiernan shipka

gavin leatherood x jaz sinclair

donald glover x rihanna

donald glover x alison brie

ryan reynolds x andrew garfield

ryan reynolds x blake lively

winston duke x lupita nyong'o

anthony mackie x frank grillo

ben barnes x andrew garfield

ben barnes x emma watson

sophie turner x asa butterfield

ewan mcgregor x jude law

ewan mcgregor x gugu mbatha raw

boyd holbrook x pedro pascal

ross lynch x jaz sinclair

ross lynch x courtney eaton

ross lynch x abigail cowen

lyndsy fonseca x hayley atwell

alycia debnam-carey x eliza taylor

alycia debnam-carey x maia mitchell

alycia debnam-carey x daniel sharman

leighton meester x adam brody

leighton meester x blake lively

leighton meester x penn badgley

lauren german x lesley ann brandt

lauren german x aimee garcia

kristine froseth x olivia dejonge

joe gilgun x michelle keegan

joe gilgun x ruth negga

joe gilgun x dominic cooper

joe gilgun x karla crome

blake lively x penn badgley

blake lively x gigi hadid

daniel sharman x frank dillane

daniel sharman x bradley james

daniel sharman x gregg sulkin

jensen ackles x sophia bush

jensen ackles x misha collins

oliver jackson-cohen x jessica de gouw

jeffrey dean morgan x hilarie burton

vanessa morgan x madelaine petsch

brandon flynn x miles heizer

brandon flynn x richard madden

odeya rush x timothee chalamet

lily collins x nicholas hoult

rachel weisz x rachel mcadams

rachel weisz x emma stone

sean berdy x jack mulhern

sean berdy x gideon adlon

tom austen x alexandra park

miles heizer x nick robinson

toby wallace x olivia de jonge (but cute)

joel kinnaman x olivia munn

luke hemmings x ashton irwin

luke hemmings x callum hood

luke hemmings x michael clifford

dominic cooper x gemma chan

gregg sulkin and sophie turner

gregg sulkin x katie stevens

gregg sulkin x danielle campbell

richard madden x gemma chan

zendaya x trevor jackson

alicia vikander x bill skarsgard

alicia vikander x eddie redmayne

alicia vikander x kit harington

#* ooc | references.#i tried not to add the ships i already have

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scotianostra · 2 years

Photo

Happy Birthday actor Tommy Flanagan who turns 57 today.

Among Tommy’s other films are Trauma, Smoking Aces and Sin City, he was making a steady living in Holywood but it wasn’t until the part of Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford in Sons of Anarchy in 2008 that people started recognising him for his acting, rather than the glesga guy in the films with scar, he is also an occasional face in the spin off Mayans MC.

Tommy will be back with season two of the gangster saga which is currently in production.

#Scotland #scottish #glaswegian #Glasgow #actor #happy birhtday

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ao3feed-garcy · 4 years

Link

by kissedbydragonfire

Neighbors and friends, Lucy and Flynn, make a pact to make it through Christmas.

Words: 8742, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Timeless (TV 2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Garcia Flynn, Lucy Preston, Carol Preston, Amy Preston, Henry Wallace (Timeless), Nicholas Keynes, Emma Whitmore, Asher Flynn, Maria Thompkins, Gabriel Thompkins, Stiv Casey, Karl (Timeless), Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Carol Preston/Henry Wallace, Nicholas Keynes/Emma Whitmore, Asher Flynn/Maria Thompkins

Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Alternate Universe

#garcy #timeless #lucy x flynn #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #lucy preston #garcia flynn

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 5 years

Note

For the Christmas prompts....Garcy and snowed in "omg we have to repopulate the earth"? Yessssss, I'm so ready for Christmas/winter fic season.

It’s after Thanksgiving and that, lovely folks, means I can launch wholeheartedly into the Christmas spirit! Starting with my Christmas prompt-a-thon!

Story below the cut.

Lucy peered outside the cabin window. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“The radio said six inches, at least,” Flynn called from the kitchen.

…crap.

The only reason–the only reason–she was up on this godforsaken mountain in the middle of nowhere was that Grandpa Ethan had gifted it to her in his will. He’d been the only member of her biological father’s creepy, awful family that she’d liked. He’d made the holidays after Dad had passed and Mom had insisted Lucy get to know her ‘real’ family bearable.

From now on, she was going back to spending Christmas with the Wallaces–her adoptive dad’s brother and his wife and kids–and Amy. And Mom could just put that in her pipe and smoke it.

But it was a couple weeks before Christmas and she’d been stressed as all get out with grading papers before the holidays, and so Amy had suggested that she go and check out the cabin that Ethan had left her.

“You need a break,” she’d said. “You can fly out, take a couple weeks of relaxation by yourself, then fly back to see us for Christmas.”

But what if the snow wasn’t melted enough in a few days when her flight left? What if she couldn’t get to her family in time for Christmas? She wanted to see her cousins, see Sarah’s new baby, ask Amy about this boy she’d been going on about. What if she missed it?

Of course, insult on top of injury, she was now stuck with Garcia Flynn.

Flynn lived a bit down the mountain and had, somehow, become friends with Ethan when he would retreat up here to paint or whatever it was. Lucy didn’t see how, since Flynn was the single grumpiest person she’d ever met. She’d hated asking him to come and help her fix her sink, but there was no one else around, and now…

Now it was looking like nuclear winter out there, and Lucy wasn’t about to make Flynn tramp through snow like this and possibly freeze to death. So she was stuck with him.

She turned away from the window to find Flynn leaning against the doorframe like Google Earth was taking pics, wiping his hands on a towel. “Well, silver lining, your sink’s all fixed.”

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” she blurted out. “As a thank you. For the sink. And because you’re stuck here.”

Flynn sauntered–the handsome idiot never walked anywhere, he sauntered–past her to the window. He whistled softly. “Wow. Yeah, that’s a doozy.”

“It looks like we’re the only two people on earth.” She’d never seen snow like this before.

“Oh no, guess we’ll just have to repopulate the earth then,” Flynn replied, giving her a lopsided smile.

Lucy felt her gut tighten and warm, and she had to look away. Moments like these she treasured more than she probably should have, those moments where Flynn was soft with her and teased her.

She just wished they weren’t inevitably followed by Flynn shutting down like a malfunctioning robot.

“Guess we’ll have to,” she said lightly. “Never took you for a family guy.”

Flynn coughed uncomfortably. “I… I was, once.”

Oh no. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t–”

“You didn’t know, it’s fine.” Flynn looked out at the snow. “We were driving in the snow, hit a patch of black ice. My wife was driving… I tried to get the wheel but we flipped. My daughter, Iris, where the–the impact hit her, she died instantly. Lorena… I tried, everything, but she, um, it only took a few minutes. They said I was lucky, just had a broken leg.” Flynn’s voice sounded like it was scraped from the back of his throat. “Lucky.”

“Garcia.” She’d never used his first name before, but it felt appropriate. She put her hand on his arm. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He glanced down at her hand, and for a moment she thought he’d remove it, but then he… he put his hand over hers. He went back to looking out at the snow. “It’s not your fault. It was two years ago now. Ethan was really good to me, during that time. Told me about a boyfriend of his, back in the ‘50s. When the guy died of lung cancer–chain smoker, apparently–Ethan couldn’t go to the funeral. He knew he’d give himself away, crying too much, and they were just supposed to be work colleagues.”

“He–he never told me.”

“He told me about you. I think he… he didn’t want to burden you. Said you made everything else worth it.”

Lucy’s eyes stung. She knew her grandfather had loved her, but it both soothed and hurt her to be reminded of it, now that he was gone. Flynn saw her wiping her eyes and made a noise of dismay. “Now I’m the one who has to say I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s good.” She laughed a little. “I’m glad he had a friend like you. I’d… I’d like to be friends, too. If you want.”

Flynn looked at her with such softness, this besotted smile on his face, that her breath caught. “Lucy. You think that’s why I’m here? Because I owed your grandfather something? Some sense of obligation?”

“I mean… we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.”

“You showed up without a proper winter coat, what was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not lecture me about it while grumbling about how I was going to die from idiocy?”

“I’m here because I like you,” Flynn blurted out. He dropped his hand and looked down at the ground, like he couldn’t bear to say this while looking at her. “I really. Like you.”

Lucy stared at him, at his long lashes and dark eyes, at his strong jaw, the hint of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the soft, slightly flopping hair. She’d known from the start that Flynn was handsome. Had, perhaps, had a few late-night thoughts about getting him to shut up in very creative, naked ways. But she’d never dared to think…

“So when you said we should ‘repopulate’,” she said, taking a small step closer and sliding her hand up his arm to cup his jaw, “you were serious?”

“I mean, not about the–I assume you have some kind of, ah, protection, I didn’t–” Flynn looked up and saw that she was trying to hold in laughter. He rolled his eyes. “I’m just digging a bigger hole for myself, aren’t I?”

“Just wanted confirmation you were actually flirting with me.” She got up on her tiptoes. “Because I really like you too.”

Lucy wanted to state for the record that what the man lost in attitude he more than made up for in the making out department. And in the groping department. And in the… you get the idea.

“What do you mean, you’re bringing a guest?” Amy asked over the phone the next morning, when said phone lines were actually working again. “Who? When? How?”

“You’ll find out when we get there,” Lucy laughed, lying on her stomach in bed. Flynn was lying beside her, tracing patterns along her back. “I just wanted everyone to know for food and stuff.”

“I am mining you for information, Lucy, don’t think you’ll escape me,” Amy warned.

“I love you too. See you in a couple days.” She hung up, and looked at the man beside her–the one who had a very innocent, placid look on his face, like he hadn’t had his tongue (and other things) between her legs an hour ago. “What on earth are we going to do for two days?”

Flynn grinned up at her, softly brushing the hair out of her eyes. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

#mads answers things #mads writes stuff #garcy #timeless #timeless fanfic #garcy fanfic #mearcats

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extasiswings · 6 years

Note

Garcy North and South AU prompt: The *ahem* argument right before Lucy leaves for London because I need to see that and also you mentioned that was the part you were most inspired to write. ;D

Ahaha. Welp. Garcy North & South AU, AKA the one where Things Happen before she leaves for London. And yet, still, she doesn’t look back.

“We’ll leave at once,” Emma says. “The servants can stay and pack up the house, but I’m certainly not inclined to stay a moment longer than absolutely necessary in this horrible, filthy place. It’s no wonder your parents—Lucy? Are you listening?”

In fact, Lucy has not been listening. Not at all, not even a little. Because her father is dead—her father is dead—and she can’t wrap her mind around it. Can barely breathe because of it, not only because it means never seeing him again, but because of everything else that must inevitably follow.

Leaving Milton.

If someone had told her a year ago that she would find herself in this position, Lucy would have laughed in their face. Back then, leaving Milton was her dearest wish. Back then, she thought Milton was hell, with its cotton and its strikes and the way industry seeps from its every pore. But now—

Milton has taken things from her, that much is true. Her mother. Amy Wallace, who had become her dearest friend only to be ripped away. Her father. Her…innocence.

But at the same time, it has also given her more than Helstone ever did, more than London ever could. Milton has allowed her to see the world as it really is, to see people as they really are, even herself.

Lucy isn’t a fool, she knows she can’t stay. Not as a woman alone with no parents to support her, no independent means, or no one to marry. And yet, the thought of getting in a carriage and disappearing without a word is…unbearable.

“I can’t,” Lucy replies. “Leave immediately, that is. I have…friends here. There are people I need to say goodbye to.”

“I can’t imagine finding anyone to be friends with in a place like this.”

Lucy bites back her initial retort that she can’t imagine anyone here wanting to be friends with Emma, even as the other woman arches an eyebrow distastefully at the wallpaper.

“Be that as it may,” she says. “I really must pay a visit to Marlborough Mills. I shouldn’t be long.”

Emma waves her off. “Fine. As long as you’re back in time for us to catch the evening train. I’m not staying here overnight.”

It’s all the permission Lucy needs, and she jumps at the chance to escape the house before Emma can send her with an escort, taking no more time than necessary to grab her father’s Plato off the shelf.

Lucy makes it halfway up the street in the carriage before her resolve begins to waver. She’s hardly seen Garcia Flynn since the end of the strike. Since the day he—

I don’t wish to possess you, I wish to marry you because I love you!

You shouldn’t. Because I do not like you, and never have.

—Lucy flushes at the memory, half in shame recalling her own actions, half in…something else entirely.

(For all that she insisted to Amy that she was the last woman in Milton who would ever want him, she has never, in fact, been entirely indifferent. When he proposed to her, however clumsily, she hadn’t been in a state to hear it. She was angry over Amy’s illness, angry at the assumption that the only reason he was asking was out of some misguided, patronizing attempt to rescue her reputation, and so she hadn’t really listened. Instead, she lashed out, throwing it back in his face without even a thought given to the fact that he’d already lost a wife and child and therefore wasn’t likely to offer a proposal lightly.)

When she has seen him, it hasn’t been particularly comfortable. Especially after her mother passed, after that night at the train station with Wyatt when Flynn saw them together and assumed—well, she knows what he assumed.

I hope you realize that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over.

Given that, it may be for the best if she tells the carriage driver to turn around. Goodness knows she hasn’t done much to endear herself to him lately. Flynn may very well want her to leave and never come back.

And yet—and yet, she can’t make the words come to change course. She can’t not say goodbye.

“Miss?” The carriage stops. “Marlborough Mills, miss.”

Well. Now or never.

The thrum of machines splinters the air, as it always does during working hours, but the noise is deafened slightly inside the main house where a housemaid informs her that Mr. Flynn’s mother is not in, but that Mr. Flynn himself is in the home office if she would like to see him. Lucy ignores the scrutinizing glance she gets when she says yes, as well as the whispers and giggles from another pair of maids in the corner. But, scrutiny aside, she’s led to the office.

“Miss Lucy Preston for you, sir.”

Flynn’s head whips up from the desk, his eyes widening a fraction as he takes her in. His mouth opens, then shuts, and he pushes back his chair to stand.

“Thank you, Jane. You can go,” he says. Lucy decidedly does not jump when the door shuts behind her, but her hands do tighten around the book she’s carrying as she’s struck by the fact that they’re very much alone. Not that she minds necessarily—Maria Flynn has no great love for her, and for that Lucy can’t blame her—but at least if Maria had been around, Lucy would have had something else to focus on. Instead, there’s only Flynn himself, towering over her as usual, but with a softness in his eyes and the lines of his body that she wouldn’t have expected.

“I heard about your father,” Flynn starts when she doesn’t move to speak. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Lucy nods, turning the book over in her hands. “Thank you,” she replies. “He—Mr. Mason said it was peaceful at least.”

“I meant to visit,” he acknowledges. “To pay my respects. I’ve been—”

“It’s alright,” Lucy interrupts. “I haven’t been up for many visitors as it is. But my aunt is here now to take me back with her to London.”

“To London?”

“Yes.” She turns the book over again, then holds it out to him. “I brought you this. Father always said you were one of his favorite students. He would have wanted you to have it.”

Their fingers brush when Flynn takes it from her, his mouth curving slightly when he catches the title.

“I’ll treasure it always,” he promises before setting it aside on the desk. “He was a good man.”

“I know.”

“If there’s anything you need…” Flynn trails off and Lucy shakes her head.

“My aunt has taken over everything,” she says. “I’m sure it’ll be…handled appropriately.”

“Right. Of course.” The air between them is stilted and awkward, his words not coming as easily as they usually do. But then, it’s also one of very few times there’s nothing for them to argue about. There’s no banter to be had, there are no sharp words to be spoken. Neither of them is likely to come away from this conversation bleeding, which is good, and yet…strange.

“When do you leave?” He asks.

“Today,” Lucy replies. “As soon as I return, actually. I just wanted to say goodbye. And give you…”

“The book.” Flynn nods, a shadow passing over his face that she can’t help feeling—or perhaps hoping—is disappointment. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you.”

“Right,” Lucy echoes, her stomach sinking. She’s not sure if she wants him to stop her, isn’t sure if he could. But part of her at least wishes he would try. “Goodbye, then. Mr. Flynn.”

“Goodbye, Miss Preston.”

She doesn’t look at his face, can’t bear it, but his voice is carefully level, as though he’s holding back. Holding back what exactly, she can’t know—her thoughts are a wrenching mix of wild fantasy and practicality—but it would be for the best if she doesn’t give herself a chance to find out. With a lump in her throat that has nothing to do with her father, she turns toward the door.

Come on, she orders her feet. Go.

A beat. Behind her, the desk creaks as Flynn pushes off of it, the air whispering around her as he takes a step in her direction.

(And still, she’s glued to the floor.)

“Miss Preston—”

“He was my brother—”

They speak at the same time, the words rushed and tripping over one another. Flynn recovers himself first, shaking his head and taking another step, until she can just feel the heat coming off of him at her back.

“What?” He asks.

“He—” Lucy closes her eyes and swallows hard, trying not to think about the fact that she could step back and just…fall into him. That contact would be so easy. “The man you saw me with at the train station—”

“Lucy, you don’t need to—”

“Let me finish,” she says, although god. God. She’s not unaware that he just used her name, almost as if against his will. Far too familiar, and yet…she wants to hear it again.

“My parents used to think they couldn’t have children,” Lucy continues. “But they always wanted a son, so they took in an orphan boy. A few years later, by some miracle or strange happenstance, I came along. But they loved him—Wyatt, is his name—and so we were raised together like siblings. For all intents and purposes, he’s my brother, if not, admittedly, by blood. He wanted to see mother before she passed, that’s why he was here, and I was seeing him off at the station that night.”

“Why—” Flynn cuts himself off, clearing his throat roughly before trying again. “Why are you telling me now?”

(Perhaps…perhaps, just maybe, he’d been lying when he told her his feelings were gone.)

Despite his best efforts, his voice still rasps at her ear, too full of hope and possibility to come off as casual. One of his hands comes up to hang in the air by her shoulder, but he still doesn’t quite touch her.

You have to know, Lucy thinks. Please don’t make me say it.

(She’s not convinced she could put words to the way she feels even if he did ask more specifically. Everything is muddled, clouded by the loss of her parents, of Amy, by her impending exit to London. It’s far too much to sort through in a moment. But she knows some things—she isn’t oblivious to the heat sparking in her blood, to the way she wants to close the space between them, to get closer than she’s ever been to a man. London means Noah and society and frivolity, means the slow death of the version of herself she’s found in Milton. London means a parade of men who expect her to be quiet and polite and not think for herself. She may not have much of a choice about going, but before she does, here, with Flynn, she wants—she just wants.)

“I suppose I…would hate for you to think badly of me,” she replies.

“You haven’t seemed too concerned about that before.”

Flynn touches her shoulder to gently turn her around and Lucy exhales shakily as his hand trails up her neck to finally tip her chin up. When her eyes flick open, his gaze is dark, and she wets her lips unconsciously.

“Lucy…why?”

“Because I—” Her voice catches in her throat, words fading from her mind.

It’s not a fully conscious choice to lean up on her toes, but Flynn bends down to meet her and their mouths catch and release. It’s a brief, fleeting thing, but it’s a match striking, a machine sputtering on. Lucy’s hands come up to grip his jacket and she pulls him back for more, desperate and wanting and needy.

She’s been kissed before. On her hands, her cheek, once or twice on her lips, stolen pecks by too-forward suitors that left her intrigued, but with no ability, no position, to ask for more. Not when she didn’t want to marry any of them. But now…her parents are gone, she’s leaving Milton, leaving him, and Flynn…he’s no innocent, fumbling society boy. He’s been married. He knows how to touch a woman, how to kiss—she’s seen his passion before, when they’ve fought, but this is something different entirely. This is focused. Devastating. When he pulls back, it leaves her bereft.

(She wants so much more.)

Flynn’s hands slip down to her hips and flex hard enough that she feels it through her layers of skirts—when Lucy gasps, he tries to withdraw, but she covers his hands, holding them in place.

“Lucy—” He closes his eyes, a shiver rocking his body.

(That day in her father’s study, Lucy rebuked him for not acting correctly, for speaking out of turn. It’s deeply ironic then, that now, in Flynn’s own office, the last thing she wants is for him to be a gentleman.)

“Please.” She tips her face up and kisses him again, soft, slow, pressing into him, asking as much with her body as her words. His tongue twines around hers and the heat that spikes through her drags a whine from her throat. Still kissing him, her hands slide his slowly up her waist, her sides—through her dress and corset she feels the pressure as his thumb roughly swipes against the underside of her breast, and she arches into him.

Her head spins—it’s like being drunk, but instead of wine or spirits, it’s his mouth and hands that are intoxicating. She could drown in him.

The next moment, one of Flynn’s arms wraps around her waist and he lifts her off the ground, setting her down on his desk. She bites at his lip, her hands sliding up his chest, clawing at his shoulders. She wants him closer. If this is the last chance she has, she needs him closer.

There’s a warmth and a wetness building between her legs, and she spreads them, letting him step between them and push her skirts up.

“Garcia—”

Flynn wrenches away, panting hard. He looks as devastated as Lucy feels, his mouth bruised, cheeks flushed. The idea that she did that…it’s a powerful thought.

“We can’t,” he says, even as she pulls him in for another kiss. “Lucy—”

“Why not?” She breathes against his mouth. “Garcia, please—”

Flynn’s hand drops to her thigh, fingertips ghosting over her skin.

“It wouldn’t be…it isn’t…Lucy, you’re a lady.” Even as he says it though, his hand continues slipping up.

Lucy shakes her head and kisses him harder.

“Not right now,” she replies. “Right now, I—can I just be Lucy? Just for a few minutes?”

(Because Miss Lucy Preston is going to London. But Lucy—just Lucy—she’s the one with the North in her skin, in her bones. She’s the one who still can’t say it, but who would marry him if he asked again. Miss Lucy Preston should be aghast at everything they’ve done, but Lucy…god, she would give him everything, let him ruin her, and would thank him for it.)

Flynn doesn’t answer in words, but he catches her mouth as his fingers meet her center, stroking lightly through her underclothes, and the kiss swallows her cry. They stay like that, barely more than a breath between their lips as he makes her shudder and sigh and moan. Her toes curl as something in her winds tighter and tighter, especially when he finally slips his hand beneath the fabric to where she’s hot and slick and aching. When the tension snaps, Lucy goes liquid and boneless, dropping her forehead to Flynn’s shoulder as she shakes through it.

After a minute, Flynn steps back, letting her legs fall closed. She manages a small noise in protest, but he doesn’t seem inclined to give her more than he already had.

“Do you have to go to London?” He asks quietly.

Lucy wets her lips, chasing the taste of him, and meets his eyes.

“That depends,” she replies.

“On?”

On whether you give me a reason to stay.

Except, Lucy has only just opened her mouth when there’s a knock at the door.

“Sir? Your mother is here. She needs a word about the latest production schedule.”

Lucy freezes, then abruptly snaps back to herself, jumping off the desk and smoothing down her skirts, her hair, anything to try and make herself look like she hasn’t just been thoroughly ravished.

“Lucy—”

“Garcia, really, there’s no need to keep me wait—” The door swings open, and Maria Flynn cuts herself off as she takes in the scene.

“Miss Preston. I didn’t realize you were here. I was sorry to hear about your father.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Flynn,” Lucy replies shakily, hoping desperately that it can pass for grief rather than anything else. “I was just…leaving.”

Her gaze meets Flynn’s again, but his is full of nothing but regret.

“I do hope you enjoy the book, Mr. Flynn,” she says.

“I hope you enjoy…London,” he replies.

“I imagine it will be quite a change,” Lucy acknowledges. “And that I’ll miss…Milton. Quite a bit.”

Ask me to stay. Give me a reason.

But the moment is gone.

“Goodbye, Miss Preston.”

Lucy nods. “Mr. Flynn. Mrs. Flynn.”

She sweeps out of the room almost too quickly to be polite, but her eyes burn with unshed tears. Her legs are shaky underneath her as she leaves the house, makes her way through the yard, and climbs back into the carriage.

“Home, miss?”

Lucy swipes at her eyes. “Yes. Thank you.”

Home, then London. And already, those moments in Flynn’s office are fading away, seeming almost more a dream than reality.

Something in her is pulled back toward Marlborough Mills, but she doesn’t let herself look out the window. She doesn’t let herself look back.

(If she had, she would have seen Garcia Flynn, standing on the same balcony where she saved him from a mob of strikers, watching her go, praying for one more glimpse of her.)

#letmetellyouaboutmyfeels #ask #prompt fill #garcy #lucy x flynn #garcy ff

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qqueenofhades · 6 years

Text

Starlight & Strange Magic, Chapter 13: In Which Lucy Has A Bad Time Of It

Rating: M Summary: Lucy Preston, a young American woman, arrives in England in 1887 to teach history at Somerville College, Oxford. London is the capital of the steam and aether and automatonic world, and new innovations are appearing every day. When she meets a mysterious, dangerous mercenary and underworld kingpin, Garcia Flynn, her life takes a turn for the decidedly too interesting. But Lucy has plenty of secrets of her own – not least that she’s from nowhere or nowhen nearby – and she is more than up for the challenge. Available: AO3 Previous: In Which Complications Are Encountered

Once more, Lucy is in a liminal state of consciousness when the scratching at the door starts up. Maybe because this is when the waking mind is relaxed and disengaged and vulnerable, the subconscious and all its fertile hang-ups and fears and repressions is close to the surface, and maybe because the beast itself occupies a fluid position between reality and nightmare. It exists half in the physical plane and half somewhere else, can slip between the cracks when its target is crossing those places themselves, and that, before Lucy realizes it is anything more than a strange dream, is what happens. She is half-sure she’s in fact still asleep, because her room doesn’t look like her room anymore. It is roofless, open to the cold air, somewhere else than Oxford, and it's overgrown with thick, wild, dark trees that punch through the floor and spread their branches to a pitch-black sky. She is still in her bed, and she can vaguely make out the outlines of her furniture, but its grip on existence has slipped, been shoved sideways into a crack in the wall. She sits bolt upright, pinching herself hard, but it doesn’t snap back.

“Flynn?” Lucy can just see him nearby, but she can’t tell if he can see or hear her. “Flynn?”

The scratching has changed. It isn’t scratching, but a soft, snaky slithering, something moving through the woods at midnight, the most primal and timeless evocation of the witching hour. Lucy grabs at her nightstand for the Colt, but her nightstand isn’t there anymore. Something else is, across from her. It is huge and shadowed and sentient. It doesn’t look remotely human. It is blurred and burned and twisted, and its face is an eyeless grey mask. Its jaws open, and keep opening.

Lucy only has time for a second, strangled attempt at her roommate’s name before it jumps at her. Even that, however, isn’t quite accurate. An animal would spring at her, the tocker grabbed her, but this launches itself in a fluid arc, at once slow and horribly fast – it’s over there, it’s still there, it’s barely moving, and then it is on top of her, as if it laughs in the face of ordinary physics. It probably does. The tocker was huge, slow, strong, and decidedly material. It grabbed her and throttled her, but it ended up being straightforward to deal with – a headshot with the right kind of gun electrified it, knocked it out, the end. Whatever this is, it’s not going to die from being shot. It might even be hoping that she’d try.

Revenant. The word comes to mind in the same way, nowhere and then slamming into her like a punch. Slimy, smoky tendrils are tangling around her throat, running up her mouth and nose, and Lucy tumbles out of bed under its not-weight. She grapples furiously at it, trying to find any part of recognizable anatomy to strangle. It doesn’t seem to be made of flesh, or notably handicapped by injuries to any part of it, morphing and shifting. She squeezes at where there should be a neck, and then she’s holding some extraneous end of it that lashes at her like a whip. They roll around on the floor, as she kicks madly and keeps kicking. It absorbs it like damp cotton wool.

Somewhere above her, Lucy is aware of the ghastly, eyeless grey face, very close to her, jaws unhinging like a python preparing to swallow an animal twice its size. She grabs at it, trying to dig her thumbs into the staring sockets, and a jolting shock travels over her body. Then in the next instant, it’s her own face that she has between her hands, voiceless and screaming, blinded and bloody, and she lets go in horror. It’s too late. Now it has locked onto her, it’s turned into greasy smoke pouring down her throat, and she’s choking on it, she’s –

She’s ten years old again, somehow. It��s her birthday party and she has had over all her little friends, the ones from school that Carol decided were worthy of an invitation. There are still glittery cards and pieces of gift wrap on the floor, plates with the remnants of colored icing stacked up in the kitchen, as Carol says that she has one more present. This is the best one, and she’s been waiting to give it to Lucy ever since she was born. Lucy feels important and grown-up and excited. It’s going to be wonderful. It’s going to be –

It's a talk. The kind of talk that Lucy is vaguely aware that preteen girls get from their mothers at some point, but not about the facts of life or the birds and the bees or just say no. It’s about something called Rittenhouse, an organization that Carol and her mother and her grandfather and however many generations of their family have all been part of. In fact, they are directly descended from David Rittenhouse, the famous eighteenth-century astronomer, clockmaker, and correspondent of the Founding Fathers, who created this wonderful society in his name to carry on his legacy and his vision for the future. Carol is a member. So is Lucy. She’s pure-blood Rittenhouse, on both sides. She’s like a princess, a real-life princess. (Clearly, Carol has calculated this to appeal to a ten-year-old girl.) She’s going to learn more over the next few years, but it’s important that Lucy can keep a secret. She’s going to have to work very hard.

Lucy is ten years old. She has grown up worshiping her mother and wanting to be like her, even though Carol has already pushed her through all of elementary school, keeps asking the teachers if they can give her more challenging assignments, ensured that Lucy does every bit of her homework before she goes out to play. It does not occur to her to ask at this point if her three-year-old baby sister, Amy, is also a princess. Of course if Lucy is, so is Amy. There is no suspicion or questioning. She’s a little confused, but it sounds exciting.

Lucy is twelve, and Amy is five, and they are eating Popsicles on the back porch, and Lucy swears her to secrecy and whispers that they’re both real princesses, it’s called Rittenhouse and Amy can never never tell anyone. Amy pinky-swears, because she idolizes Lucy in turn and it is an easy promise to make. They wear tiaras and spend an afternoon giving each other imperial commands, sending each other on quests. They fight about who is the better princess, at least until Carol comes out and catches them at it. Watches them with a bemused expression, until Amy has finally worn herself out and gone in for a nap. Then Carol tells Lucy that it’s all right that she told Amy, but Amy isn’t quite as special as Lucy. She’s, well. She’s different.

Lucy doesn’t understand, and right then, Carol doesn’t explain anything else. Lucy is still under the impression that Dad is Dad, because he’s always been. Henry Wallace, a gentle, unassuming man who Carol tends to domineer, though he’s the only person who she listens to. He is the one who goes to Lucy’s father-daughter dance at school and tells her to be careful around boys, and answers the door in a suit and tie when she’s fourteen years old and Parker Patterson wants to take her to see Titanic. He is the one who takes the pictures for her Sweet Sixteen and he is the one who, a few weeks later, wakes her up on a Saturday morning, makes her pancakes, and says they need to talk. He’s the one who, sitting across from her in the sunny kitchen, calls her sweet bean like he always has, and tells her he’s not her real father.

He tries to be kind about it, as always. Lucy is stunned and disbelieving and doesn’t want to hear it, and for the first time, the secret she’s been carrying for the last several years doesn’t seem quite as wonderful. She insists that he is, of course he is, and Henry’s voice breaks as he says that he always will be in his heart, but as far as basic biology goes, it’s not him who made her. That is another man. He won’t tell her who, says to ask her mother. It’s not clear if he’s run this past Mom beforehand. They’ve always been in sync before, but something’s changed.

Lucy is reeling, runs off and grabs the keys to the family sedan and lays rubber backing out of the driveway. She just got her license a few weeks ago and wants to drive, drive, drive out of the Bay Area and never come back. She is plunged into the usual teenage froth of hating her parents, though it’s different in this case. Carol hasn’t said much more about Rittenhouse since that fateful tenth-birthday chat, though whenever Lucy tries to slack on her schoolwork or wants to care about the things that high school sophomores usually care about, it resurfaces as a reminder that she’s doing this for a larger purpose. She has to be prepared to take her place. All the legacy and work of all her ancestors is riding on this. Lucy could be one-of-a-kind. Singular. Carol loves her, and can’t let her mess that up.

It's then when Lucy realizes that since Henry is not her father, but he is Amy’s, that that’s the reason Amy’s different. A half-blood, a lesser specimen, and Carol hasn’t tried to cultivate her and develop her the way she has with Lucy. Lucy has sorely envied Amy’s comparative freedom, the way Carol doesn’t go over all her report cards and school assignments with a red pen, doesn’t micromanage her friends and her extracurricular activities. She sits down on the beach – it’s freezing cold, it’s February, the waves are booming and cold wind is whipping the spume into her face – and stares out at the horizon. Half wants to walk into the ocean and let the weight of her clothes pull her down. She tells herself it’s too melodramatic, she’s not being practical, but when she is young and this is the worst thing she has ever experienced in her life (god, she was so young, so innocent, Lucy’s heart hurts for that poor child), it’s how she feels.

One week later, Henry Wallace is dead. Car crash. He always was a smoker, said he thought lung cancer would probably get him, though he cut back a lot for the girls’ sake. Lucy and Amy and Carol cry at his funeral, a united front, and for a while after that, they’re closer. Lucy can’t find the right time to bring up her real father. That man is a shadowy phantom who has no part of the Preston family’s grief, and she does not intend to bring him any closer.

She finishes high school, she graduates as valedictorian, she heads off to UCLA just because she didn’t want to ride Carol’s coattails at Stanford the entire way. It’s the first time she’s ever lived outside the Bay Area or by herself; she was a pretty sheltered teenager, has never been drunk or had a bong rip or fumbled with a boy in the backseat, and in her first year, she goes a little overboard, as kids flying the coop from controlling parents tend to do. She still pulls decent grades, but not up to her usual caliber, and panics that she’s going to flunk out. Feels like she’s still spiraling, down and down and down.

(Down and down and down – it’s her sophomore year of college and she was going to just fuck all this and join a band, didn’t see the oil slick, spun out – the car filled up with water so fast, so fast, and after that, she abandoned all the parties and all the friends and devoted herself to her studies, apologized to her mother for thinking that she ever tried to run away. Said that she wanted to learn about Rittenhouse, she wanted to come home, wanted to belong.)

She graduates from UCLA with a double major in history and anthropology and moves back to Palo Alto, and Stanford, for her master’s degree. Really throws herself into this Rittenhouse stuff, takes part in a few youth-group events with the children of fellow devotees. There’s a definite Hitler Youth air to them, though she doesn’t realize it at the time. It’s because of that, the need to define her pedigree and present her credentials, the sense that she has properly earned the information, that Carol tells her about her real father. Benjamin Cahill, a distinguished pediatric surgeon at UCSF. (He operates on kids? Oh Lord. That’s not terrifying at all.) She hopes he and Lucy can still have a relationship.

So Lucy tries. She tries, because she is a dutiful Rittenhouse daughter and she’s brainwashed enough by this point to think that she owes it to Cahill and Henry Wallace was in the wrong for daring to pose so long as her blood sire. She goes over to his house and is greeted warmly on his part, and realizes that she already knows her younger half-brother, Martin, because they’re in the same young adult group. Lucy insists on inviting him over and introducing him to Amy. They’re family. Rittenhouse is family. They should all get along.

Amy tries to tolerate Martin for Lucy’s sake, because she wants to be supportive of Lucy reconnecting with her birth father and all that, but she quickly admits that she really doesn’t like him. Martin is one of those self-righteous teenage white boys whose narrow worldview does not encompass any nuance or challenge, and who feels very proud of himself for being an intelligent and persecuted nerd who is on a much higher level of existence than the dim-witted jocks and popular girls and etc etc., who will all eventually get what they deserve. Fits the Klebold and Harris mold, frankly, though he thinks guns are only for idiots who aren’t smart enough to get what they want in another way. Rittenhouse is the way to do it. Rittenhouse takes brains, skill, subtlety, non-violence and enlightenment. Rittenhouse is everything.

Lucy and Amy argue increasingly about how much time she’s spending with the Cahills, about how much of their propaganda comes out of her mouth. Cahill’s wife, Evelyn, is almost creepily welcoming, displays no worry or threat about her husband’s illegitimate daughter from a long-ago fling suddenly reappearing and wanting to get closer. It’s clear she too is born-and-bred Rittenhouse, and sees Lucy’s inclusion into the pack as something to be wholeheartedly supported. Starts talking about how Lucy is twenty-two now, has dated a few boys but not really had a serious relationship, but it’s time to think about the future. About a solid match. Is Carol talking to her about this yet? As Rittenhouse women, they have a special duty to propagate the line. Especially with Lucy and her prized, royal bloodline. Princess. Princess.

(“This isn’t you, Lucy!” Amy screams in her face, over and over. “Lucy, this isn’t you! Why can’t you see that these people are – they’re a cult! You’re smart, you can’t do this!”)

(And her own voice, echoing back, shouting that Amy was just jealous that she wasn’t deemed worthy of the same attention, that Amy didn’t understand how brilliant they were and how much good they wanted to do. That she was – and she can hear it over and over, the way she spat it in utter earnest, at her sister who had only ever loved her and wanted the best for her – a half-blood. The look on Amy’s face has never left her, not for an instant.)

Then it’s finishing her master’s degree, and all the Cahills at the graduation party and Amy saying that she’s sorry, but she can’t be there like this, not with them. It’s starting her PhD and meeting the man that Evelyn and Carol have co-selected as her ideal future husband, Noah Berkowski, a talented young doctor that Benjamin knows from the hospital. It’s smiling at him and thinking he’s nice, he’s nice, she’s lucky that they care for her so much to pick someone she will be so happy with. She dutifully begins imagining names for their children. It’s understood that she will be pregnant soon after they are married, and while her history work is very important and Rittenhouse is paying generously for her to finish it, she can’t neglect her role as a wife and mother. It’s having sex with Noah for the first time and thinking it was fine, it was fine, he was decent and he didn’t force her or anything, and then locking herself in the bathroom for two hours and staring at her razor and suddenly wondering if it could cut her wrists.

Noah says she’s stressed, it’s common among overworked PhD students approaching completion, and with everything she’s doing for Rittenhouse as well, all the volunteer assignments she’s taken on, she deserves a break. He angrily insists to Carol and Evelyn that they back off and stop pressuring her, and for the first time, Lucy can actually see herself maybe liking this man one day. Noah is Rittenhouse too, of course, but he takes it less seriously, is able to be wry and self-deprecating and poke fun at it. They make arrangements for her to see a Rittenhouse therapist, who surely must have had to coax people through these kinds of breakdowns before, smooth away all their doubts and keep them on the right track. He (of course it is a he) prescribes Lucy several medications and advises her to just think about all the people she’s helping. They’ve always known that’s what she wants to do.

Lucy floats along, high as a kite but at least not actively suicidal, through the rest of her PhD and as usual, graduates with honors. Noah proposes, since he still technically has to do that, and a wedding date is set. Then Lucy decides that since she’s done with school, she wants to get off the medicines, and does it without consulting her doctor, which is definitely against medical advice. And yet. She has a feeling that if she told him, he’d only insist on more.

It’s hell. It’s utter, total, wracking, withdrawing hell. She can’t function for a week, she shuts herself in her room, she has spasms and visions and can barely see or breathe. She didn’t go totally cold turkey, she’s taking half pills, but even that is a terrible shock to the system. But slowly, it’s like coming up for air, like she’s been asleep for years and now she is finally seeing the true and awful light of what she has done, who she has let herself become, docile and glass-eyed and smiling like a Stepford wife. Amy’s right about all of it. Amy’s right.

Lucy can’t immediately drop all her commitments and back out of everything. That would raise red flags, and she has to be strategic. She can’t tell Noah either; he isn’t as life-or-death about it as the rest of them, but he’s still a true believer, he wouldn’t agree. She’s living a lie, some sort of weird double life where she wants to collect information on them, but has no idea who she’d pass it to or what she’d do. Rittenhouse is everywhere, that’s always been the point.

Finally, Lucy turns up on Amy’s doorstep in the middle of the night. Breaks down and cries for hours and apologizes over and over for how she’s acted and all the awful things that she has believed. Amy hugs her and they sob together and decide they’ll do this, they’ll figure out how to stop these people somehow. It’s not Lucy’s fault. It’s not her fault. It’s not her fault.

(“Amy? Amy! Amy!” The blood on the door handle and on the floor, streaks and splashes of it, Lucy’s voice screaming as she runs through the empty apartment. Signs of a struggle everywhere, and yet, no sign of her sister, no trace of what’s happened.)

(It is absolutely Lucy’s fault.)

Lucy keeps finding excuses to postpone the wedding. Noah’s getting suspicious, and so is Carol. She and Amy are working together more and more, they know Rittenhouse is about to do something major. They are, of all things, funding the construction of a time machine, through the billionaire British entrepreneur and tech genius, Connor Mason, and his company, Mason Industries. The Mothership, as it’s called, is almost ready, and there is a big party to hand it over. A ribbon cutting and a champagne toast, as Lucy stands there in her black cocktail dress at Noah’s side and smiles and smiles until her cheeks hurt, applauding like the rest of them. Now, ladies and gentlemen, Benjamin Cahill says. Now we do what we were meant to do.

Emma Whitmore is the pilot. Dedicated Rittenhouse agent for several years, one of the few recruited, not born in, who has managed to work her way to the top with a blend of ruthlessness, cleverness, determination, and more ruthlessness. Has been an integral part of Connor Mason’s team, but the time has come for her to move onto bigger and better things. She’s going to begin her missions soon. Start removing all the threats to them in both past and present, alter dominoes to fall in more favorable patterns. She looks straight at Lucy as she says this.

That night is when Lucy senses something wrong. When she tells Noah to head home and she’ll meet him later, when she arrives at the empty, bloody apartment and finds nothing, and when she calls the landlord and the police, nobody has any memory of an Amy Preston ever living here. They think Lucy is making her up. Lucy can’t understand why they’re doing this, wants to shake them, wants to scream, and wakes up in a hospital room under an involuntary psychiatric hold. Noah comes to get her out and tries to reason with her. She cannot be reasoned with.

That is when Lucy Preston decides to go to war.

That is when she finds out about the backup time machine, the Lifeboat, and that it can hold three people. Finds Rufus Carlin and Jiya Marri, who are both tech geeks and number-crunchers by nature, but nonetheless have seen this firsthand and are willing to fight it. They are not soldiers any more than Lucy, a small historian, is, but they are who she has ended up with as teammates, and they will have to do. They steal the Lifeboat and learn everything on the job. Teach themselves to fire weapons and to plan operations, based out of a bunker in the NorCal wilderness since Mason Industries is now entirely a front company for Rittenhouse. They manage to persuade a Homeland Security agent, Denise Christopher, of the truth of their story and the necessity of their mission, and she does what she can for them. They run various trips into American history, chasing Rittenhouse. Win a few, lose a lot, at first. Win some, lose some after that, but still never what they need. Not enough, not enough, not enough.

Lucy runs into Carol and Noah on a few of the missions. They both try to reason with her, to persuade her to come back to the fold. She can still be forgiven, even now. She can still go back. They’ll overlook it, but she has to stop. Why has she turned on them like this? Why?

Lucy doesn’t listen. Manages to pull off a major sting operation through the decades with the help of her own grandfather, Ethan Cahill, which gets a sizeable fraction of present-day leadership (including Benjamin) put away. She and Rufus and Jiya and Denise are all there is, and so they can’t stop, even as they are all slowly losing their minds. Then it’s 1789 in France, and revolution is in the air, and Emma kills Carol and Noah, who have been unforgivably slowing her down with their insistence on trying to get Lucy back. Lucy finds them both in a grimy alley in Paris, Noah already dead and Carol dying. Carol whispers that she’s so proud of her. It is her wish, her last wish, that Lucy goes back home. To Rittenhouse.

After all that. After everything. Rittenhouse.

(Lucy loses a lot more of her mind after that, and she isn’t sure it has ever come back.)

(“An alternate universe? With magic?” She thinks Rufus is having her on, though she doesn’t know why he would be. “And one of us is supposed to go there after them?”)

(Even while knowing that if that’s what they’ve done, that’s where she’s going.)

The images batter against her eyes, over and over, the very worst moments in a ceaseless loop. Henry telling her that he isn’t her real father, and the bloody apartment where nobody remembered Amy, and Carol’s hand falling out of hers as she stared in numb disbelief, and sitting in the bathroom and wanting to die, this isn’t you Lucy this isn’t you – it goes faster and faster. The look on Amy’s face, half-blood, spat in a voice that she only wishes wasn’t hers. The jerk and the wrench of the Lifeboat flying sideways, opening the door to an alternate 1886 entirely alone, I touch no one and no one touches me –

Lucy struggles, flopping and wrenching like a fish on a line, but she can’t get the revenant out of her. It is chewing on her, burning her up inside and out, has broken a crack in the dam of memories and everything is pouring out in a torrential, ugly flood. It is getting stronger and stronger the more it feeds, until she can almost feel its teeth in her flesh, if teeth are something it even has. It swirls in her lungs like smoke, boils behind her eyes, rattles her bones. She is going to die. She is going to die, or perhaps only wish she did, because it will eat everything out of her and leave her as a withered husk. It has forced her to relieve the entirety of her darkest despairs and worst traumas in a few disconnected minutes, slamming her into them like a brick wall. Amy’s there, and then she isn’t, over and over. Everything is screaming, chaotic and tempestuous. She’s swept under and caught in the undertow, drowning, drowning –

And then, all at once and out of nowhere, it stops. The silence hammers in Lucy’s ears, rings as loudly as a shout, as she curls up, seizes, vomits a burning quantity of grey ash, and falls for what feels like forever before smacking into hard floorboards. She wrenches her malfunctioning eyes open far enough to see a shadowed figure wrestling with the smoky coils of the revenant. There’s a wet pop and a choking noise and a soundless explosion that smells like sulfur, and then the world slams back into place. The monster is gone, the forest vanishes, the roof barrels back down onto its attendant walls, and everything goes still. She is lying on the rug in her dark room in Somerville in a torn and dirty nightgown, retching and sobbing.

“Lucy?” Someone is on all fours next to her, breathing hard, as he crawls over and puts a very ginger hand on her back. “Lucy? Are you – ”

Lucy instinctively recoils from it, and it pulls back as if burned. She lies there facedown, crying too hard to speak, until he grunts with pain, gets hold of her arms, and turns her over, lifting her clumsily off the rug. “Hey,” he says gruffly, as if trying to be comforting, but doesn’t remember exactly how. “Hey, hey.”

Flynn. The name suggests itself to her through the haze of shock and horror, and for some reason, it’s comforting. She doesn’t struggle, if only since she’s currently too destroyed to do so, as he hauls her over to her bed and puts her back into it. “Is it gone?” Her throat feels charred, burned too badly to speak, and her voice is a harsh, husky rasp. “Did you kill it?”

“I chased it off.” He sounds almost guilty, angry that he couldn’t do more. “I told you they were hard to kill. I got it out of you by giving it better prey, and then I managed to banish it, but I don’t think I permanently wounded it. It got… a good feed.”

Lucy shudders with horror at the idea that she only strengthened that thing, that that wasn’t even remotely the worst it could do, that it could return for a second night at the buffet table even more powerful than ever. She understands that Flynn distracted it by opening his mind to it instead, drew it off to feed on him instead of her, even if he hasn’t spelled it out. Whatever demons haunt her, his must be just as lurid, and she can imagine that his head is still ringing with the sound of his daughter’s screams, among other things. She cracks an eye to see that his face is carved more deeply with lines and grief than usual, gaunt and harrowed, and tries to think of something to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t – I should have believed it was really a – ”

Flynn shakes his head tersely, dismissing her apology. At last he says only, “I did tell you that revenants were nasty.”

“Yes.” Lucy looks at him, still sitting on the edge of her bed, head bowed, shoulders hunched, and wonders if she should tell him to move. She can’t bring herself to do it, half-fearing that the monster might reappear the instant she is, in any sense of the word, alone. “Do you think it’ll come back?”

“Not right now,” Flynn says. “If we’re lucky, not for a while. It’s full, it’s satiated, it’ll slither off down its den and enjoy its pickings. But we’ll have to figure out how to destroy it, because otherwise it won’t stop coming until it drains you dry. And the more times it does that, the harder it gets. Then once you’re dead, it will use your body as a host until it is as deformed and monstrous as the one you saw now. I imagine that’s part of its desperation and its hunger. It’s been in someone else too long, and needs a new home.”

Lucy shudders. Every part of that explanation repulses her on a chemical level, and it’s not clear if Flynn, even with his extensive monster-hunting experience, is entirely sure how to stop it. “You’ve fought these before,” she presses. “That’s what you said. Haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Flynn says. “Weaker ones. Younger ones. This one is very old and very strong. I’ll try to think of something, but – ” He stops. “Well, I’ll do that, anyway.”

“Thank you.” Lucy looks up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time. “For pulling it off me.”

He looks set to ask what she thought he was going to do, but decides better of it. She has the definite sense that he knows more than he’s saying, and wonders what exactly he got out of Dodgson during his apparently very informational visit to Christ Church. Instead, he says, “Revenants can sometimes be drawn to people that their current host knew in life, or that they have unfinished business with, or something of the sort. Can you think of anything like that?”

Lucy doesn’t know how to respond. She possibly has unfinished business with every single member of her family, all of whom are admittedly evil and/or dead, but none of them are from this reality. “I don’t think so.” She feels hollowed out and gutted and fragile as a dandelion wisp, as if all the iron cages she has built to keep herself functioning in the face of massive and inhuman obstacles have crumbled and rusted, and left her here alone, stripped and solitary and shivering in the dark. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Flynn pauses, then nods, and starts to stand up. But just then, before she can stop herself, Lucy reaches out and catches his hand.

He goes tense from head to toe. Even she doesn’t know what she means by it, so he certainly doesn’t, and the moment twists as tensely as a harp string, charged with possibilities – some innocent, and some less so. Flynn’s eyes flick to where her fingers are linked around his own, then up to hers. Then he pulls himself free, closes her hand, and sets it on the covers next to her. “Go to sleep,” he says. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Lucy manages a nod, half disappointed and half relieved, as he moves to sit on the floor with his gun in his lap – maybe he can startle the revenant if it comes back, though he doesn’t seem to think it will, at least immediately. That was a fragile, emotional moment of weakness, clutching for the only real human nearby after she’s been so thoroughly shaken up and thrown to the wind, and she can’t tell if he is gentlemanly avoiding taking any advantage of her when she is in a vulnerable state, or he just does not want to be further burdened with comforting her. Tact or emotional intelligence or gentleness are, to say the least, not traits that she has hereto associated with Flynn, so it’s easier to guess that he just got tired of holding her hand, literally. He did ask her if she’d seen the revenant again, and she said it was fine, so perhaps on some level he blames her for bringing this on them with her ignorance and nonchalance. He could have been much harsher about ripping into her for it, but if nothing else, she’s grateful that he didn’t.

Lucy closes her eyes, her worst memories still swimming murkily behind her eyes, coming and going in brief, bright stabs. She’ll get it under control. It’ll take a while, but she will. She’s always done it before. That’s how it is.

That’s how it is.

Karl Popovich has had the absolute hell of a few days. Because, as firmly established, Karl Popovich is criminally underrated, is starting to think that he may in fact work for an idiot, and was left in abrupt charge of a notorious London crime ring after said idiot jumped out a Buckingham Palace window in a hail of Beefeater bullets and vanished from the face of the bloody earth. Of course, Karl is the one who has to figure out what happened, coordinate with everyone on their various assignments, select a new hideout, kill a man at the Croft asking too many questions, and make an executive decision as to whether Flynn ever plans on being seen again, or returning to command of the gang. Karl doesn’t think he’s captured or dead, because that would have definitely made the papers, but even the boss has kicked a big enough hornet’s nest that he is going to need to sit down and shut up. Not that the boss has ever been good at that.

Their new hideout is in one of the Thames tunnels, a bit musty and damp but able to get fresh air by a grate overhead, and of course the boys are complaining that the Southwark warehouse was more comfortable, which really gets Karl’s goat. Karl is not the one who caused Ada bloody Lovelace’s butler to turn up on the doorstep, the boss to wig out and up stakes, and send them scuttering off like sewer rats. Karl is also not the one who pulled the aforementioned little stunt and abandoned them, and given as one of their runners – a sixteen-year-boy named Sullivan, not an official member of the gang, but one of the allies who passes them messages and material – has recently become an unwilling guest of the Metropolitan Police, even a blind mouse can occasionally find the cheese. Sullivan’s probably dead, poor bastard, and Karl isn’t going to make a particular effort rescuing him. They need to conserve their resources.

“Where d’you think he went?” Robert Taylor asks that night, as they are cooking a lumpy stew over the brazier. “If he got out of London, that is?”

Karl has a feeling that he knows exactly where Flynn went, but has been debating the merits of sharing it with the lads. He is a capable deputy, after all, and part of that involves keeping the boss’s secrets, no matter how much you yourself may deride them. “No idea. We’re carrying on as normal until either he comes back or they nab him. Anyone have a problem with that?”

Looks are exchanged, as they all know that to speak up risks branding them as an insubordinate or mutineer, but if Karl apparently doesn’t know where Flynn went or anything that they don’t, that doesn’t give him a privileged position. Karl has been second-in-command long enough that they’re more or less used to taking orders from him, but he’s not the same kind of alpha male that Flynn is, and they’re definitely more frightened of Flynn than they are of him. Residual loyalty will probably hold them for a while, and it’s not like they have so many other places to go, but if it stretches on to a week or two with no news from the chief, they may look into exploring other options. There will always be work in the underworld for a fast-talking Irishman who can fire a gun and outwit the peelers. No use sticking around if it’s only going to get your neck fitted for a noose of your own.

“That Preston bird,” Shitmouth says, with an entirely unexpected moment of critical thought. “One he went to tea with. Wasn’t she going up to Oxford, like? Any chance he might have tried to – ” he makes a highly explicit gesture with index finger and circled finger and thumb of the other hand – “with her? Seemed he wasn’t averse to the idea.”

Karl wonders what it says about the transparency of Flynn’s hopeless fancy for Lucy Preston that even Shitmouth has apparently cottoned on, since the moniker could just as easily be Shit-for-brains, but that took too long to say. Glancing around, he can see the boys screwing up their faces, trying to decide if the boss has in fact run off to hide under a little lady’s petticoats (what he might be doing once there, Karl prefers not to speculate). Then someone says, “So what if he did? We supposed to go up there and get him out?”

“Might not want to be got out,” Shitmouth says. “If you know what I mean.”

A chorus of guffaws obligingly follows this, as Karl raises his eyes to the heavens (or rather, the underside of the street overhead). At least they think that the idea of the boss running off to get laid for once in his damn life is funny, and might help him unwind a few jots if he returned. Someone else appears set to continue with commentary on which assets precisely of Lucy’s might have attracted Flynn’s notice, at which point Karl decides it’s time to put the kibosh on that. Has a vague idea where he might go to confirm this hunch, though it’s still almost as stupid as something Flynn would do. Still. Might be worth it to have a solid answer.

Therefore, Karl wakes up the next morning, scrapes together his cleanest suit and hat (wore it the other day to the same place, which is mildly dangerous, but none of the papers have pictures of him) and climbs out of the tunnel, onto the misty, chilly streets. It’s not that far to St. James’ Square, and he checks that his gun is loaded and loose in the holster, just in case. Glances up at the surrounding windows, but nobody seems to be peering through the curtains. So he raises the heavy bronze knocker, and bangs it heartily.

It takes several minutes until the door cracks. Upon seeing who is on the other side, he nearly shuts it again straightaway, but Karl sticks his foot in. “Morning, guv’nor.”

Mr. Woolsey looks as if he was deeply hoping not to come face to face with this particular fine specimen of London criminality again, for which he cannot be blamed. They eye each other up and down, as Karl tries to decide if Woolsey looks particularly shifty, or that’s just his natural expression. Finally Woolsey says, “May I help you, Mr. … it was Popovich, I believe?”

“Never mind that. Her ladyship awake?”

“And what makes you think that the Countess of Lovelace intends on receiving the scabrous henchman of an extremely wanted fugitive, exactly?”

“She did invite that fugitive and me to tea the other day,” Karl points out. “I’d appreciate a word. Go on, bugger off and ask her.”

Mr. Woolsey draws in a sharp breath, but consents to withdraw and inform his mistress of the breakfast-time intrusion. When he reappears, it is with disappointed-but-resigned mien; after all, Lady Lovelace must have received all number of scandalous guests over the years, despite Woolsey’s best efforts to weed them out at the door. “She says that you may come in, but be quick about it, do not pocket any silverware, and try not to drip on the carpet. This way, please.”

Karl pulls a gargoyle face at Woolsey’s back as he steps over the threshold and into the Lovelace mansion, following the butler to the same private drawing room where they had a tea and a chinwag last week. At least before that medium turned up and scared the piss out of Flynn. Karl does hope that Priscilla Mackenzie is somewhere else at the moment, not that he has any dead loved ones she’d be able to spook him with. Just seems like that sort of talent is constantly ripe for accidents, and his life is already complicated enough.

They reach the French doors, Woolsey raps correctly upon them, and then shows Karl through at a word from within. “The… henchman, Madam.”

“Thank you, Woolsey.” Ada Lovelace is wearing an embroidered silk dressing gown, sipping a cup of tea and consulting the newspaper. She does not seem at all bothered about her state of dishabille in receiving an early-morning visitor of extremely rough social caliber, so Karl goes over to the table and kisses her offered hand, just to make Woolsey’s eye twitch. Ada looks up at him with a shrewd, birdlike gaze. “Well, it’s you again, is it? Not the breakfast guest I expected, but what is life without a few surprises?”

“Pardon the intrusion,” Karl says, since he wasn’t raised completely in the jungle and knows that presuming upon wealthy women, even old, rich, and eccentric ones who don’t give a hoot about the neighbors’ opinion, is made easier with some manners and flattery. “Just had a quick question, is all. Any chance you’ve been in contact with Miss Preston recently? Any chance, say, that she mentioned any visitors?”

Ada looks at him sharply, not slow to take his meaning. Then she says, “You are after uncovering if your employer turned up in company with her in Oxford, are you not?”

Karl can’t imagine why else he might want to know, though old instinct tells him to make up a lie. “Just thought it was a possibility, is all.”

Ada considers for a moment. Then she says, “I did receive a telegram from Miss Preston the other day, yes. In which she alluded to the presence of an old friend who, I suspect, was neither old nor strictly speaking, a friend. I’ve no notion if the silly git is still there or not, but yes, we can be reasonably confident in thinking that he selected her place of business as a… refuge. How utterly ill-mannered. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get the both of them arrested.”

Karl heaves a deep sigh. Even suspecting that Flynn ran straight to Lucy isn’t as annoying as having it confirmed – well, not by name, but Ada seems to think it’s him, and for that matter, so does Karl. “How long has he been there?”

“Several days, I think. No, for the record, I have not seen fit to trouble the Metropolitan Police with this information, as they would entirely lose their heads and run about like ninnies, and it would doubtless blow back onto Lucy as well. Men are so terrible at handling every situation they’re in charge of, it’s really quite comical. Besides, they’ve recently made themselves quite a nuisance since recovering the frozen corpse of Mr. Stanley from my icehouse, and I have no wish to have them loitering about the premises any more. Is it true that Mr. Flynn broke into Buckingham Palace? You know how the papers exaggerate.”

“Seems to be,” Karl says. “Queen wasn’t amused.”

Ada makes a tutting sound. “Gracious. What a total and indescribable cad. You, Mr. Popovich, you’ve worked for the knave in question for a while. Is he always this unbalanced?”

“Not usually.” Karl considers. “Think it’s on account of him being… distracted.”

“Oh yes, by Miss Preston?” Ada sounds completely matter-of-fact. “Indeed, we’ve all noticed that. Hopeless, I say. Quite hopeless. Even if he was an earl with a family title and estate and five thousand pounds a year, I could not possibly recommend him as a potential husband. I married an earl, you know. Horribly dull creatures. On second thought, it may be to his advantage that he’s not. Still not nearly good enough for her, though.”

Karl opens and shuts his mouth, not least because Ada is sitting here talking about the boss possibly wanting to marry this insane American bint. Do a few other things with her, yes, absolutely, but not that, and this is getting rather off topic anyway. He is just trying to think if there is anything else he should ask her, or that she might be inclined to answer, when Woolsey reappears. “Madam. I deeply regret to once more interrupt your morning with the advent of unsolicited and uncivilized gentlemen, but another one has turned up on the doorstep. He says that he believes a Priscilla Mackenzie is currently in residence here?”

Both Ada and Karl look up sharply at that. It could just be a grifter or sideshow man or other entrepreneur eager to profit from Priscilla’s gift, or someone else who has read the society papers’ accounts of the Supper Party from Hell, but still. Ada’s mouth goes thin and wary. “I’ll speak to him,” she decides after a moment. “Mr. Popovich, perhaps you wish to – ?”

Karl is already getting to his feet and preparing for his exit, but it is too late. For the second time that week, Ada Lovelace’s drawing room plays host to an inauspicious and poorly timed chance meeting. That is because the door opens, and Sergeant Wyatt Logan walks in.

There’s an instant in which he and Karl don’t quite recognize each other. Then their eyes lock, they know each other quite unmistakably for the bastard shooting at them in a dark Covent Garden alley, and they both go for their guns at the same time. Wyatt dives behind the divan in anticipation of Karl opening fire, and Karl is in fact about to do that when Ada gets to her feet, seizes hold of his long-barreled Smith & Wesson revolver, and smacks him in the face with her newspaper. “No guns over breakfast, if you bloody well please! Are you both a pair of baboons who recently discovered dynamite? You behind there, were you even planning to properly introduce yourself before you commenced riddling my expensive furniture with bullet holes?”

There is a pause, and then Wyatt gets sheepishly to his feet. In Karl’s opinion, he looks fucking terrible. His face is pale, his eyes bloodshot, and he smells of something stronger than alcohol and not to be messed around with. “Apologies, ma’am,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grimacing as if the lunge for cover has rattled the delicate equilibrium of his head. “My name is Sergeant Wyatt Logan. Do you know who that man is?”

“Of course I know who that is,” Ada snaps. “And I would imagine you do too, given as you were so eager to point firearms at him. Do you and Mr. Popovich have a problem?”

“I have a problem with his boss,” Wyatt says, glancing around as if Flynn might be lurking behind the china cabinet. “He here too?”

“No, not that it is in the least your business. If you don’t want me to drag you out by the ear and throw you in the street, you will instantly inform me of yours. To speak of knowing who people are, you do know me?”

Wyatt looks briefly flummoxed. “Uh. . . Florence Nightingale?”

“What? Much as I admire Miss Nightingale’s work, I have to wonder how on earth you could possibly arrive at that conclusion. I am Ada, dowager countess of Lovelace, thank you very much, and I would hope that even a thundering American nitwit has heard of me. Now, I do believe I asked you what you were doing in my house, as I am still prepared to propel you swiftly out of it. Well?”

Wyatt blinks again, and Karl supposes that he and the boss can commiserate later about being thoroughly outclassed by a small seventy-two-year-old woman. If he and the boss weren’t also trying to kill each other, that is. Finally Wyatt says, “I met Lucy Preston in Oxford. She said that I might call on a Priscilla Mackenzie, if I was back in London. It took a few questions, but I discovered that Miss Mackenzie is presently staying at this address in St. James’ Square. I didn’t realize it was your private residence, ma’am.”

Ada snorts, a sound twice her size. “What on earth is it about Miss Mackenzie and her lightning-rod ability to attract unsuitable gentlemen to my drawing room? Not that it is the poor girl’s fault, not in the least, and nor is she a circus animal to be constantly paraded before gawking customers. The last one went quite badly sideways. No, I could not allow you to see her.”

Wyatt seems briefly about to ask who the other unsuitable gentlemen were, but apparently decides on balance that he really doesn’t want to know. “Are you sure? I – I promise I won’t take long. It’s just – someone told me yesterday that my wife – my wife is alive. If Miss Mackenzie’s talents are as they were reported to me, I just thought she could. . . confirm or deny.”

Ada eyes him, glances sharply at Karl when he takes a step, and finally summons Woolsey to go upstairs and see if Miss Mackenzie has any interest in this proposition. This leads to an awkward moment with Wyatt and Karl exchanging evil stares, even as Ada sits back down and starts sipping tea, apparently deciding that they will not dare to molest each other with her right there. Since they were both equally uninvited, they can’t exactly order the other to clear out, though Karl thinks that if he gets a chance to get Wyatt off alone and solve that problem, he will. Unfortunately, Wyatt is clearly intending the same thing with him, and they continue to glare at each other, hands hovering near their guns, until the drawing room door opens. Miss Mackenzie looks nervous, but somewhat steadier than she did the last time Karl saw her, screaming in Croatian in a small girl’s voice. That was a bit unsettling.

“Yes?” Priscilla says tentatively. Her eyes flick to Karl, clearly also recognizing him, and she goes rather pale, but holds her ground. “Someone wanted to speak to me?”

“That was me.” Wyatt clears his throat and steps forward. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Miss Mackenzie. I was just wondering if you – well, if I was to ask if you could contact someone who may or may not be dead, how would that work? I – I can pay.”

Priscilla shakes her head. She seems to have a bit more steel in her spine, until Karl supposes that living with the Countess of Lovelace for a fortnight would make any lady feel like charging headfirst through a brick wall. “No, you don’t have to do that. Here, take my hand.”

Wyatt hesitates, then does so. Karl can’t help a preliminary wince, but no terrified screams result. In fact, nothing happens at all. After a few more moments, Priscilla lets go of Wyatt’s hand and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

“What does that mean? Her name’s Jessica, she’s my wife, she – ”

“I don’t sense her,” Priscilla says. “That means she’s not dead. Or if she is, it is in some way much different than the usual.”

“She’s not. . .” Wyatt’s gaze flicks to Karl, then back. “She’s not from here. Does that affect it somehow?”

“Everyone is equal in death,” Priscilla says. “It shouldn’t.”

“So she is alive?” Wyatt wants the hope, wants it badly, but can’t quite commit himself without reservations. “This is – this talent of yours is real, right? It’s not just some trick?”

Priscilla looks rather insulted, and Karl clears his throat. “I can promise it’s real, not that you deserved to know. Now bugger off.”

Wyatt gives him a very cold stare. “Finally met your boss. He’s a dick.”

Priscilla’s expression changes from insulted to shocked at this coarse language being bandied about in a countess’s presence, and while Ada herself doesn’t appear terribly fussed, Wyatt and Karl are both forced to make a perfunctory apology and beg her pardon. Neither of them wants to leave first, since that might allow the other to make inconvenient allegations against them, but they also can’t fight each other. At least not here, as Karl makes a mental note to redouble his efforts to find out where the sergeant is staying. Certainly not on Flynn’s behalf, but because Karl himself doesn’t want him around when they’re trying to do important things. At any rate, the visit is clearly over, Ada summons a pair of brawny footmen to march them to separate doors, and once Karl is out in the street, he decides he needs to know a bit more first. No use going straight after Logan, yet. He already has enough interesting intelligence.

It is late midmorning, and Karl is not in a hurry to return to the tunnels and go back underground like a grub. He claps on his hat and strolls through the busy streets of London, exulting in his general anonymity; everyone has their feathers in a fuss about Flynn, they don’t have a clue about him. See, this is why Karl doesn’t seriously aspire to run his own gang. Too much visibility, too many complications. He would rather sail along in the shadow of someone who draws all the attention, enjoy a life free from both the constraints of the law and the consequences of such. Works out for everyone.

Karl has stopped at a foodseller’s booth, chatting casually with the proprietor – the Russians on the docks like to stop here, because she sells samovar tea and vatrushka buns and other old favorites of the motherland, and you never know what they might have said – when a woman steps up next to him. Confident of his totally unremarkable nature, he pays no attention to her. And then, as the muzzle of a pistol is placed discreetly against his ribs, somewhat more.

He looks up with a start. The woman is red-haired, freckled, green-eyed, and damn if he doesn’t know exactly who she is. The boss’ nemesis. That one.

Oh, shit.

“Hello, Karl,” Emma Whitmore says sweetly. “We really need to catch up.”

#timeless #timeless ff #lucy x flynn #garcy #garcy ff #starlight & strange magic #steampunk au #well that's like...3 chapters this week #i'm judging myself and don't have a life #but that said #there will be fewer updates next week since i have a conference #so yes #enjoy?

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