#SO MICHAEL NEVER GOT TO DESIGN HIS OWN ARMOR????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abumbledbee · 3 years

Text

Tubbo and Wilbur’s Parallels

tw/ mentions of death / suicidal ideations

“If I can’t become the next Schlatt, then you can’t become the next Wilbur.”

This is a quote from Tubbo, given just before the exile arc began, when he was arguing with Tommy. Tommy accused him of acting like Schlatt because he was putting the nation's needs before him. Tubbo, offended at the comparison, reminds Tommy that he is acting irrationally, and is reminding Tubbo of Wilbur.

When we speak of parallels between Tubbo and Tommy with Schlatt and Wilbur, we’re often inclined to compare Tubbo with Schlatt, because they worked together so closely during Schlatt’s reign, and the complicated relationship between them which ultimately ended up with Schlatt having Tubbo lose a canon life for his betrayal. And due to Tommy and Wilbur's close relationship before and up to Wilbur's betrayal, it's easy to draw comparisons between them as well.

But I think we often overlook a lot of similarities between Tubbo and Wilbur that are worth delving into more, and the farther Tubbo goes with his character the more comparisons I keep catching. At this point I think Tubbo's character parallels Wilbur's far more than Tommy's does.

Wilbur was the founder of L’Manberg, and its first president. It’s a nation he built from the ground up, which started as nothing more than a front for his drug lab but grew into something bigger and more meaningful than Wilbur ever planned for. While on the server he found love (?) and had a child, Fundy, and then things began to get rocky as they fought for their independence against Dream.

Ultimately Wilbur fails to protect L’Manberg and their independence is bought by way of Tommy sacrificing his discs in return. Wilbur ends up losing his country by way of being exiled when Schlatt wins office, and we watch his descent into madness as he realizes how much he cared for the country and how no matter what he does, what it once was is gone forever in his eyes. The Pogtopia arc originated with Wilbur trying to come up with a plan to secure his presidency again and to reclaim his country. It ends with Wilbur refusing his original role and ultimately destroying the very thing he created along with himself because he couldn’t bear to see what it or himself had become.

In Wilbur’s darkest moments we see them play out on screen, his button room is one of the most iconic scenes we got during this period of the storyline. Wilbur in an enclosed space, surrounded by the signs reminding him of what L’Manberg once was and what it would never be again. He's hounded by his thoughts, his mental state shattered and he no longer believes there's any other course of action.

Ultimately this is his final resting place, the room where he sets off the TNT that destroys L’Manberg for the first time. He begs his father, who had just arrived to the server because he was worried when Wilbur stopped sending him letters, to kill him. And Phil does.

L’Manberg’s story does not end here, despite what Wilbur did. It begins again, with Tubbo and a crater. We talk about Tubbo being president of L’Manberg as though he was just taking on the role and a nation the way Schlatt did, but in reality, he founded it again. Tubbo, along with Phil and others, REBUILT an entire city on the rubble of its former life. Tubbo’s L’Manberg is in fact nothing like Wilbur’s, except for the parts Tubbo purposely recreated, like the camar van.

The major difference in their takes on presidency is that Tubbo did this for Tommy, for Wilbur, for the original citizens. He took on the role of President out of duty to Wilbur who passed it down to him when he felt unfit to rule again. He did his best on behalf of everyone who fought on Pogtopia's side, to reclaim a nation they all had lost. In the end he lost it one final time, chunk errored by way of Phil, Techno, and Dream.

And from here on we see a new Tubbo. The bright-eyed, president-elect is no more, and instead he begins to isolate himself from the main server. He retreats to a snowy biome separated by water, and builds a house and gives it a name. Snowchester. Now, most people wouldn't give just a house a name. Even from the start Tubbo was creating a new community, without even realizing. Eventually Snowchester grew to be a legitimate colony of its own, with Jack Manifold, Foolish, and Puffy all moving in and setting up shop. He declares independence, and in doing so, decides he must ensure it any way possible. He's seen what happened to Wilbur's L'Manberg, how helpless the other man was in keeping it safe. He knows he failed his own L'Manberg, and he will not let it happen again.

He hatches a plan with Jack, and the answer is.... Nukes. A bomb, in other words. But instead of using it to destroy his nation, it'll be used to protect it. Tubbo designs it, and they ensure it works with a test launch before decommissioning the remaining two. Time passes and eventually, he's opening up to people again. Tubbo marries Ranboo and they adopt a child together.

Suddenly it's not just Tubbo, it's Tubbo and Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael, and then Tommy is gone. It's shocking, and unexpected, and he doesn't believe it at first. He's been so beaten down under Schlatt's regime he no longer openly shows his emotions, the closest we get to seeing his true grief during this time is when he stares at the memorial he just finished for Tommy in Snowchester. Then comes the anger.

He wants to know how this could've happened, he tries to investigate it, but before he can get too deep into it, Tommy's back. Revived, and Tubbo has had to experience losing him and gaining him back again twice now. Inevitably, like with most of Tommy's plans, Tubbo is roped into his next one. And it's a doozy. Tommy reveals that he wants to kill Dream, to ensure he can never revive anyone else, and Tubbo reluctantly accepts.

One of the most troubling moments during his investigative time was when he made a room for him to fill with his notes and evidence. At first glance it is deeply reminiscent of Wilbur's button room, the walls covered in signs and his lectern in the middle of the room mimicking the button. Because Tommy returns before he can get further in his investigating we'll likely never see this room again, but seeing him make it to begin with filled me with unease.

Tubbo has lost his fear of death. It's first noticed at Doomsday, when he defeatedly jumped in front of Techno's rocket launchers over and over again. We see inklings of it again and again, such as when he scoffs at his chat begging him not to investigate Techno for the TNT at the prison, saying he'd die. Tubbo just replies with "So be it." and continues on. We see it again when he and Ranboo investigate the Eggpire and get caught, and he continues to fight with them until he's only got a few hearts left. He mentions feeling exhilarated, full of life from almost losing his last. It's a reminder of the violent life he's had til this point, his time in the SMP filled with war and bloodshed since the very beginning. He's not afraid to fight despite being on his last life, in fact at times he seems almost ready to end it all.

Yesterday's lore stream was unsettling in a few different ways. The first being Tubbo casually mentioning how his eyes play tricks on him. It's a throwaway mention towards possible hallucinations or paranoia. He also refers to himself as paranoid later on when he's worried someone's hurt Michael, and it bothers him so bad that the next minute he rushes over to ensure Michael is safe. He is willing to do whatever he must now, to ensure Michael can grow up safely, much like Wilbur wanted for Fundy, with no Dream to terrorize the server any longer.

Wilbur's initial wish for L'Manberg once it was fully formed was for it to be a nation his son could grow up safely in, with all the possibilities at his fingertips, until their independence was threatened and he had to focus on leading an army instead of being a father.

But even more upsetting than that, is Tubbo's admission to how he designed the nuke. He tells Jack after one is stolen that there is a manual detonation option, a dead man's switch. He designed the bomb to have a suicidal solo detonation option as a last resort, so if he ever needed to use it and Jack wasn't there he could take matters into his own hands. Tubbo was so ready to ensure if something happened to his self-made colony he could deal his revenge even at the cost of his final life. His reasoning for making the nukes was not for self-defense, it was so he could finally take a swing back at whoever took from him again. He'd seen L'Manberg destroyed twice by people who initially sided with it, had 2 canon lives ripped from him by way of betrayals. He might not have thorns on his armor but by god will his death have them, and heaven help whoever is on the receiving end of his suicide-start nuke.

This mimics Wilbur's final steps but from the logical, more level-headed mind of Tubbo. He's created a bomb, a weapon of destruction he's willing to die with. Wilbur wanted to die with L'Manberg, Tubbo is willing to die for Snowchester.

#tubbo #wilbur #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #c!tubbo #meta #character analysis #trigger warning #tw #suicidal ideations #mentions of death #dream smp #vilbur #tommyinnit #ranboo #jack manifold

293 notes · View notes

darkeninganon · 3 years

Text

(So, this storyline now has a name; it is the Ender Family AU! Dream’s design was based off @winifreyd and their White Enderman Dream! They are awesome and do amazing artwork, and this story would probably not exist if they did not share their art! Warning for gore, blood, very heavy torture, passing out (as a fear/pain response), forced drugging/drinking (Potions are canonically drugs/alcohol), unwanted contact (Dream doesn’t like people touching his fur), and (there is no nice way of saying this) flaying. If you spot something else, message me and I will add it and apologize profusely. The beginning is deceptively sweet btw, just as another small warning.)

Ranboo looked between Tommy and Tubbo. His face was burning, but only one side showed a tinge of color.

"You mean you really don't remember staring down Quackity?" Tommy found it hard to believe, and was currently the main person opposing such an excuse.

"Really, I don't! You know how much I hate eye contact."

"He's got a point..."

Michael oinked in agreement. The trio were currently in the zombie piglin's room, Ranboo holding the child as the little monster drew something. Tubbo was kneeling next to the table, head partially resting on said table. Tommy was the only one standing, arms crossed, glaring at Ranboo.

Ranboo sighed, shaking his head. "Even if you don't believe me, it is the truth."

"Oh, I believe you, I just want to know why this is the first time we are hearing about it!" Tommy hissed, throwing his hands up. "I mean, if you hide that, what else are you hiding?!"

"Oh come on Tommy! Ranboo wouldn't-"

"Quite a bit because I would rather NOT be the reason someone kills Tubbo or Michael." Tubbo snapped his head towards Ranboo, horror plastered on his face.

"WHAT?!"

Michael snorted, holding up his picture. It depicted Ranboo holding a red square, and speaking in scribbles. Ranboo groaned as Michael proudly displayed his picture. The baby zombie piglin still had yet to learn to speak, but his writing skills were far beyond where most thought he should be at.

Tubbo stared at the picture, clearly concerned. "Michael, sweetie, have you seen daddy act weird?" Michael nodded, borderline enthusiastically. The little zombie pigling then grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbling most of it in red crayon before writing three large letters on it, and handing it to Ranboo.

Tommy and Tubbo stared.

"So, I guess I blew something up." Ranboo stated, staring at the crudely drawn TNT. He looked back to Tubbo and Tommy; "I think it's about time to tear down the walls of your old house."

"Damnit Ranboo!"

"I'm sorry?!"

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

Dream stared, listening to the murmur of Quackity and Sam talking outside the wall of lava. It is a new day, Quackity is back. Dream could only wonder what Quackity was going to do today. Maybe he'll take my teeth, that would make sense. Or perhaps my other eye. Yeah, that sounds like something they could justify doing. Dream sat up as the lava fell away, Sam and Quackity standing at attention. Quackity was decked out in netherite armor. Enchanted netherite armor. Dream's ears fell back as a low growl fell from his chest.

Quackity made his way across the pit of lava, standing across from Dream with nothing in his hands but a potion and a pair of shears. Once the lava covered the opening again, Sam came through, glaring at Dream.

"Huh, what's the special occasion?" Dream smirked, tilting his head. Of course Sam; dear, dear Warden Sam; would want to help Quackity. "Don't tell me I actually scared you two." The prisoner chuckled, glancing between the two.

Quackity held out the potion; it looked like mud mixed with glitter. "Drink this."

"Excuse me?"

"Dream, do as Quackity says. I really don't want to have to force you." Sam stated, monotone. Dream stared at the warden, incredulous.

"No! I'm not drinking anything that crazy moron brings in here!" Sam sighed, striding over to Dream. "Get the hell away from me!" Sam went behind Dream, locking the prisoner's arms in an uncomfortable hold. Dream began yelling, kicking his legs out as Quackity approached. Quackity took Dream's jaw into a tight hold, digging his nails right into the joint and forcing Dream's mouth open. Once that was done, Quackity tore the cork from the bottle, shoving it into Dream's mouth.

Dream gagged, coughing and thrashing in an effort to get the bottle out of his mouth and not swallow the bitter liquid. Eventually, the potion's effects won out over Dream's own desires, his body going limp and his struggles ceasing.

Dream's eye darted around the cell. He wanted to move, wanted to cry out, wanted to not be sitting still. No matter how much he tried though, his body just sat there, even as Quackity removed the bottle and let go of his jaw.

"Hell yeah!" Quackity cheered, throwing the now empty bottle into the lava. "I told you it would work!"

Sam let go, gently resting Dream's head on his lap. "Yeah. You're sure he can't feel anything?" The warden sounded worried as he placed Dream's tongue back in his mouth and closed his jaw.

Quackity chuckled, "Yeah, I'm sure." He dragged his hand through Dream's fur, drawing lines at seemingly random points.

He's lying. Dream wanted to scream, Quackity's hands were cold and he hated as the "visitor" ran against the grain, causing the fur to stand up on end. Sam, he's lying! Please! But he couldn't say anything.

Sam, for his part, was staring at Dream sadly, carefully petting the prisoner as if he didn't co-sign this. He jumped as a hand snatched his wrist, holding it still. Sam looked to Quackity, who was still smiling.

"Seeing as how Dream isn't going to feel it, why don't you feel how soft he is!"

Sam looked at the prisoner, resting helplessly in his lap. Even though Dream's body couldn't move, his eyes were glaring at Sam. Still....

Curiosity won over the Warden as he took off his glove. Even with Dream unable to move, Sam was hesitant to touch the fur. When Quackity had entered the prison, that was all he talked about. It was just fur, what made it so special? What it because it was from Dream, and the prisoner never let anyone touch it?

Quackity groaned, snapping Sam from his thoughts. Without warning, the visitor grabbed Sam's hand and buried it in the mane around Dream's head. Sam could only stare. It was... So freakishly soft.

"Right!?" Sam glanced at Quackity, who was smiling like the cat that got the canary. "Seriously though, seeing as how he's going to be trapped in here for eternity, he really doesn't need this fur. He'll just overheat!"

No, I won't! Sam, please stop this! Tears fell from Dream's eyes, his mind racing. Taking his fur was the one thing he never expected.

Sam nodded, resuming petting Dream. "Just... be as quick as possible."

Quackity nodded as Dream's eyes darted to the man with the shears. "Let's see... Let's start here then!" Quackity stated, opening the shears and pulling Dream's skin right at his hip. Dream watched in horror as Quackity carefully cut a thin layer of skin and fur from his body, pulling and cutting just enough to make a starting point for him to continue. "Man, this is going to take a long while. Sam, would you mind grabbing a few more potions, just to be sure?"

Sam nodded, carefully setting Dream's head down on the obsidian floor, giving the prisoner one last pet before drinking a potion and diving into the lava.

As soon as Sam was gone, Quackity looked at Dream, and slid his hand between the skin he had just cut free, and the lower levels of skin and muscle. Dream tensed, the salt from Quackity's hand burning the fresh wound. "Man, this must really suck for you." The visitor laughed, a cruel smirk coming across his face as he wiggled his fingers in the wound. Dream gave a weak whimper, tear pouring from his eyes as the wound became wider and burned more. "Do you have any idea how hard is was to get the potion just right? Make sure you can't move, can't talk, but also heal you and make sure you can feel it? It was hard, man." Quackity finally removed his hand from the wound, marveling at the lack of blood. "This is probably what Tommy felt like. I have no idea what the afterlife is like, but maybe one day, I'll ask him."

Quackity straightened up as Sam came back, carrying a bag filled to the brim with the potions Quackity had made. The visitor smiled, turning back to Dream and resuming his work. Dream watched, heart racing as he finally saw what his fur and skin hid. Thin muscle hung from bones that showed painfully through in some places. It only took about two minutes for it to look like Dream was wearing a furry shirt or hoodie; a quiet whimper bubbling up from his chest as the first “hem” was finally completed.

Sam snatched a potion from the bag, opening Dream’s mouth and doing his best to make sure the prisoner didn’t drown on the vile liquid. Quackity gave Sam a weird look, getting ready to cut open Dream’s front.

“Really? He has another hour or so on the first potion.” Quackity muttered, pulling the skin up with his fingers, smirking as the muscles underneath twitched in pain.

Sam cast an unseen glance at Quackity, removing the empty bottle and throwing it into the lava. “He must have some form of tolerance, even after all this time. The numbing factor wore off I think.” Sam sounded distant, did Sam even believe his own words? Surely he knew.

“Well then let him deal with it. It’s not our fault he’s weird.” Quackity retaliated, making one final cut right at Dream’s collarbone, stopping as he noticed Sam flinch. “Hey, I’m sure Tommy felt way more pain than whatever little pin pricks this monster is feeling. Need I remind you-”

“No!” Sam winced, “No, I don’t need to be reminded.” He repeated, softer. Through the thick lenses of the mask, Dream could see Sam’s eyes darting between the prisoner and Quackity. Sam went back to petting Dream, unaware he had stopped for so long.

Quackity shrugged, cutting a gracefully curved line around Dream’s collarbones, stopping about halfway on either side. He grabbed Dream’s arms, inspecting both before dropping one to the ground, and making a quick slash around the whole wrist.

Blood poured from the fresh wound, diminishing to a trickle as Sam’s hand wrapped tightly around the small wrist. “Quackity! What the hell?!”

“Wow, language Sam.”

“Screw the language! What the heck were you thinking?! Get the bandages out of the bag now!” Sam glared at the visitor. Removing Dream’s fur was one thing, but getting so close to such areas… Sam would not stand for it.

“Will you relax? Look, it’s already closed!” Quackity pried Sam’s hand away, revealing a thin, bare scar circling Dream’s wrist. “Nothing to get pissy about.” He huffed, grabbing the prisoner’s other hand and doing the same. Sam was quick to cover the wound again, glaring hatefully at Quackity. “Alright. I need you to turn him onto his stomach so I can finish up the neck. I was not going to risk cutting your legs.”

“Quackity…”

“What? Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for this piece of trash.”

Sam looked between the visitor and prisoner. Dream looked terrified. Sam held out his hand. “I’ll take care of it.” Quackity stared at Sam, hesitantly handing him the shears. Quackity watched as the Warden made a shallow cut along the back of the prisoner’s neck, breathing heavily and muttering. Sam practically threw the shears back to Quackity, petting Dream as soon as they left his hands. “There, done.”

Quackity nodded, looking down at the paralyzed prisoner. He struggled to pry Dream’s skin open, humming and inspecting where it connected. Quackity took out a netherite knife, sliding it under the skin and between the muscle.

Dream watched, muscles burning and twitching. A ringing filled his ears, his heart racing, his lungs tight. He couldn’t breathe, and he felt way too hot… no, he was cold… Well, his body was cold, his arms freezing, but his face felt like it was right next to the lava. Sam… Sam something’s wrong… SAM! Sam please! SAM! Dream was suddenly in a void, screaming and wailing filling his head. He blinked, back in the cell. Quackity was further along in removing his skin. He could see his ribs laying right underneath the smooth muscle, his vision flitting to Sam, distress hidden by dark lenses. Sam’s head snapped to look at Quackity, muffled words demanding something. Dream’s mouth was pried open, another bottle shoved down his throat.

Black consumed him again. Back to the cell. Something hard and soft was in his mouth. Sam was holding his head, forcing him to look at the warden. Sam kept calling his name. Black again. Back to Sam. Black again. Sam. Black. Sam. Black. Sam. Black. Cloth?

Dream could feel his mouth was open; he could feel something wrapped around his body, arms, even his legs. Everything hurt. His eyes were wet, not from the cloth.

“S….Sam…?” His voice sounded too quiet. A hands was suddenly placed on his head; a gloveless, unarmored, calloused hand.

“It’s…”

“Sam… I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry…”

Sam sat there, staring at Dream. Dream’s whole body was covered in tightly bound gauze. He looked almost like a mummy rather than… whatever he was. The only parts of him that still had fur were his head, hands, and knees. Sam had to fight with Quackity over leaving the fur on his knees. Sam sighed, closing his eyes as he took a breath, one hand resting on Dream’s chest while the other continued to pet him. “I know you are. I know.” Sam opened his eyes, staring at the creature laying on the floor before him, “It’s not me you have to apologize to though.”

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

Quackity held up the pure white pelt. He had just finished cleaning it.

“Damn.” Quackity turned, smiling wildly at Schlatt. “Where the fuck did you get a coat like that?” The goat-man ghost lit up a cigarette, reaching out and touching the fur. “Again I say this: Damn.”

Quackity laughed, “I got it from my dear friend in prison.” Schlatt paused in his appraisal of the fur, staring at Quackity as if the still living man had grown another head. “Not like he needed it with how hot that place is. Besides,” Quackity pulled the fur away, brushing the soft hairs against his face. He froze, jolting to look at Schlatt, “Did you know his fur was this soft?”

The ghost stared, Quackity had a look to him that made Schlatt happy he was already dead. “No…” He spoke softly, lowering the cigarette he had. “I had no clue.” Schlatt watched as Quackity skipped way, the beautiful white pelt held close. Schlatt shook his head. Not for the first time in his life was he thankful that Quackity was on his side.

#My writing #Trigger Warning #content warning #drugs cw #drugged #tw torture #be sure to heed the warnings y'all!#Ender Family AU #dream smp #DSMP #Awesamdude #Quackity #Ranboo #Tommyinnit #Tubbo_#Dreamwastaken #White Enderman! Dream #michael (dsmp)

37 notes · View notes

jokerfan99 · 3 years

Photo

Slideshows (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

Inside the Blue base, Mess Hall

Gary: It wasn't my fault. I only help, Wyoming kidnapped the alien. Tucker: Junior! His name is Junior, asshole! Church: Not your fault, huh? What about that time when you tried to blow me into pieces, you lying jackass! Gary: Knock knock. Caboose: Who's there? Gary: You are all dirty dirty Shisnos. Ha Ha Ha. Caboose: You're mean!

The atmosphere in the mess hall is filled with insults and anger, both from the Blues and Gary. They traded words like ' Dirty Shisno' and 'Backstabbbing AI' at one another. Church said this is supposed to be an interrogation but look at the results on the reunion of two enemies. Weiss and Blake can see the whole situation and think that: "Yep they know each other." They turned away and continued to where their conversation had left off.

Blake: So, Ruby and Yang, are here in this canyon? Weiss: Yes. Blake: And they're still not happy to see you. Weiss: Sigh. Yes and... Blake: Wait don't tell me. They attacked when they saw you. Weiss: Well, Ruby didn't attack me and I was the first to punched her. But Yang, she almost tried to tear my head off if it wasn't for, Caboose! None of this wouldn't have happened, we would... Blake: Weiss, you don't have to remind me about it. Look you can't just keep hating each other forever. The past is the past. How about just give yourselves a chance to talk with each other and settle aside your differences. Weiss: Except that won't work like how you did with, Sun. The last time we met was when Ruby tried to hit me with a drip stand. Anyways, why are you doing here exactly? Another Xenotarian aid assignment? Blake: Before that, yeah. The ship I was in was flying was running out so I had to stop by here to fuel up. I found a base but the inhabitants there are... Weiss: Let me guess, they're all dead. Well we're in a war, after all. What did you expect? Blake: War? Weiss: Oh right, you may not have heard about this. We're currently at war with the Red army. Not sure why they're called that but I've been told they're a bunch of arrogant Insurgents that needed some discipline. Atlas sent me to aid the Blue Army as a support. Blake: And the Blue army are? Weiss: They're an independent military force from a neighboring colony. According to Atlas intelligence, they got a huge disagreement with the Reds to decide which property they own. Blake: That seems understandable. But I taught you can't enter the Atlesian Army after you... Weiss:... Blake: Sorry to bring that up. Weiss: None taken. Nah I still couldn't. But out of the blue, they decided to give me another chance by performing an assignment. If I transfer myself to another army, live through it and won the war, I can finally get into the Atlesian army like I wanted to! Plain and simple. Blake: Really? Wow, that's something I've never heard, Atlas would do. It's a very good second chance for you. Though I've never of any war in this sector. Weiss: Hmm, maybe the White Paw forgot to update about it. Church: Ahem!

Blake and Weiss turned to Church.

Church: Will you two shut up? We're interrogating here. Blake: Is he always like that? Weiss: Oh don't mind him. He's always a jerk. He's name Church. "Leader" of the Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. If you ask me, he's the most incompetent team leader in this base with a hair trigger temper. Still waiting for Command to accept my request to becoming leader. The dark blue one's, Caboose or Michael if the name's too weird for you. He's lacking some brain cells. Probably from a bullet to the head, but he's alright when he gets the job done. The bright yellow is Kaikaina. Now keep your distance from her, she's a disgrace to women everywhere. The only thing she talks about is having sex. But not as worst as the aqua guy named... Tucker: 'Sup. Weiss: Sigh, Tucker.

Tucker approached the two, with his eyes fixated to Blake since the time she arrived here. She looks like the type whom he can hooked up her with her easily. He delivers his signature one-liner.

Tucker: Hey, baby. Never met one with cat-ears before. Maybe you can hear the cry of nature through them asking you to... Blake: I'm married and have two children back at home, thank you very much. Tucker: Fuck... do you still wanna hang out? Church: Alright, Gary, enough with the insults. Let's cut to the chase. First off, how did you survive the blast and more importantly, where's Tex? Gary: I would tell you, once Caboose stops attempting to punch me. Caboose: Take that! And that! And that!

Caboose's fists passed through, Gary's holographic body to no effect at all.

Church: Stop it, dumbass. Caboose: Okay. Church: Now will you explain? Starting from the time when Andy blew up. Gary: As you wish. Luckily I've prepared a small presentation designed to easily explain my creators to what had transpired from the base I was in. Caboose: Oh give me three minutes, I'll get the popcorn. Kaikaina: Wait, we have popcorn? Tucker: Of course we do. It's popcorn, not a strip club. Kaikaina: Sigh. Someday.

Three minutes later and Caboose returns with the bowl of popcorn.

Blake: I only got here and met these people an hour ago, and I don't understand what's going on. Weiss: Me too. Hey Church. Would you mind telling us the whole story here? Church: It worked with a guy named, Wyoming and tried to kidnapped Junior. That's all. Weiss: Gee, you're helpful. Caboose: Don't worry, I'll tell you the story. Weiss: Thank you, Caboose. Gary: As you all already know, I am the one who tricked you all into thinking that I'm a computer intelligence made a dead alien race which never existed and in reality worked with Wyoming to use the alien to manipulate his race as a savior and win the war. Church: Duh, who else doesn't remember that? Blake: Uhm... Weiss: Ahem. Church: Oh except for these two.

Gary creates a holographic screen big enough for the Blues to see. There's a title at the left upper corner which reads: "My Story: A PowerPoint Journey". The first slide he showed is a crudely drawn scene as if it was made by a three year old kid in his first attempt on Microsoft Paint. This made some of the Blues to laugh, Caboose makes better art than this! It depicts what looks like the pelican flying toward a base with an unknown trifoil logo on it. The Blues have never seen it, but Blake has. It was the same design she saw from the base she landed at.

Gary: Moments after, Andy exploded. The ship veered off course and coincidently crash landed on the Project Freelancer Operational Command Center. Kaikaina: Project Freelancer? Tucker: Aw crap... there's a base full of those fuckers?! Gary: Yes. Church: What about, Tex is she alright? Gary: She was dead when it crashed. Church: Sigh... crap.

The second slide shows Tex lying on the ground with a black box written with the words... well... "Black Box" on it.

Gary: The staff managed to recover Tex's corpse and the black box containing Sheila, Omega and me. They stored us inside containment before the Director decides what to do with us. Church: Director? Who's that? Gary: He is in charged with Project Freelancer.

The third slide shows, white armored soldiers running for their live as something, what looks like a generator, behind them gets blown up or catches fire. Drawing's aren't so detail don't blame me.

Gary: Few days after the crash, one of the base's generators overheated, causing a chain reaction that freed me and Omega. No one knows how it happened but it is suggested that this wasn't a coincidence.

The fourth shows one of the soldiers laughing evilly over his dead comrade as the base behind him was on fire.

Gary: After we were freed, Omega started possessing the staff and killed them off, one by one, until Utah was left alive. I hid within one of the computers to hide from the chaos. For days I've waited for rescue until I met Blake. Does that answer your question?

Everyone are silent by Gary's story. Some don't believe him since his a liar, others were wondering whether he's really telling the truth. But the one thing that they all agree, is that Omega is back and is now somewhere on this planet wrecking havoc. Weiss and Blake, on the other hand, was not getting any sense of this.

Weiss:... Caboose: I like the last part. Kaikaina: O'Malley's back. That's bad right? Church: OF COURSE IT'S BAD! Weiss: O'Malley? Caboose: Oh that's what we call, Omega. The angry AI that tried to kill all of us. Blake: Wait a minute, you lied about being the base's computer system? Gary: Surprise, dirty shisno. Ha Ha Ha. Tucker: We told you he's a liar. So, where's O'Malley now and don't try lying this time! I'll tear of that AI chip from that armor and smash it with a hammer! Gary: Okay okay. I do not know where he is. I haven't seen him after the killing subsided. Church: Shit. Then he could be anywhere and inside any person on this planet. Tucker: But what of that 'Project Freelancer' stuff? Sounds like a military experiment. Church: I think he's referring to that classified military experiment, Tex took part in. The one where they implanted O'Malley into her armor. Weiss: AI implantation? I heard about that back at the Academy but it's very risky. What's a research like that doing on this war torn planet? Unless... this war is perfect place to run a military experiment. Church: That sounds like a plausible theory. But let's get to that later. For all we know, O'Malley's loose out there and his probably planning to take revenge on us. And the worst part, we don't know where he is. Caboose: Maybe we can ask the white guy the cat lady brought. Tucker: Hey good idea! He was from the base and probably the last person to saw O'Malley. . So where is he now? Blake: I had to lock him up in your base's janitor's closet. Tucker: The janitor's closet? Uhh... did you notice anything... off? Blake: No, just dirty mops. Tucker: Phew! Church: You disgust me, man. Well at least we got a lead. Blake: I'd advice you guys to be cautious. He's not mentally stable right now. Church: Thanks for the advice, lady. Tucker, Kai. Come with me. Kaikaina: I'll be the bad cop. Church: And NO strip teasing! Kaikaina: Pfft, asshole. Church: Caboose, Weiss. Take good care of our guest and keep an eye on, Gary, will ya? Caboose: Can I burrow your eye? Church: No.

Church, Tucker and Kai leaves the room.

Blake: I can't believe you just lied to me. Why would you do that after I found you? Gary: Well I didn't want to stay there forever so I had to use you. Blake: And that part of you going offline was a lie too? Gary: What? No. That was not originally part of the plan. I almost died if you hadn't removed me. Weiss: This is what I hate about military AIs. They're too human like to be controlled. Blake: I taught at one point you were interested in Dr. Catherine Halsey's theory of AI flash cloning? Weiss: Heh, true. But that's because Cortana was modeled after a human brain. So, Caboose. Now can you tell us what exactly transpired here before we both came? Just tell us the whole story. Caboose: Yay, storytime! This is going to fun. So you see, it started with me arriving at Blood Gulch and this tank lady named, Sheila...

Thirty minutes of the Blood Gulch Chronicles

Caboose:... and I said, "I meant why are we up here in the sun, when we could be standing down there in the shade". And then we stand under shade. The End! Weiss:... Blake:... Weiss:... This might take some time for me to process. Blake: Definitely. Though I kinda like this Doc. He's a very nice guy despite being possessed by a raging computer program.

Clearer Version: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph/art/Slideshows-RWBY-RVB-860686887

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

#weiss schnee #blake belladonna #michael j caboose #rwby #monty oum #Rooster Teeth #Red vs Blue

16 notes · View notes

kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

The Conference (Day 1, Pt 1)

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You are the daughter of a famous politician and are attending his conference in New York. After hearing your concerns about not knowing almost anyone in the top 1% that your family was in to whom was your age, he and your mother decide that it is time to meet your father’s friend’s son, Damian Wayne. The only issue? He’s the most arrogant, rude, and maybe handsomest person that you’d ever heard of.

Notes: I’m going to do this story in parts. Does anyone know how the fan fic writers make those master lists???? Also, I just wanna say, I like to make stories and the Y/N thing smart because I hate seeing the Y/N x person where Y/N is either dumb, unambitious, or just average and doesn’t care about school or working for something. It just bothers me.

Warnings: None

“Father must I attend this conference?” You asked looking out of the window of the large black GMC that your father was driving.

“Yes, Y/N. You need to have some time off from your work. Plus, you always love these conferences every summer. What’s wrong with this one?” Your father replied looking at you some and then back on the road.

You sighed, “The issue is that I’m 16, I have goals, ambitions, and drives that I want to achieve, but I would also not mind meeting people my age with the same mind set other than Brooklyn who aren’t some 40 year -old congressmen or businessmen who I could only use later in life to climb to the top.” You tapped your fingers on the leather of the car door interior sitting yourself up more, gazing at the New York skyline coming into view.

“Y/N, sweetie that makes perfect sense. Your mother and I have talked about this, and we have decided that I should talk to one of my friends about you meeting his son who is your age.” He said, the smallest sign of delight on his face.

“And who would that be?” You asked impatiently.

“Well, my friend Bruce Wayne of course.” He answered.

“Oh wow, should’ve guessed.” You retorted sarcastically, “And which one of his children will I have the “absolute pleasure and honor” of putting up with?” You rolled your eyes mentally going over the list of reasons why this was a bad idea and why you would rather be home with your precious German Shepherd, Apollo and grey kitten, Pandora.

“Be nice Y/N.” He scolded, “And you are meeting Damian. He is a perfectly respectable young man, and I’m sure that you will find that he is not what the media would make him out to be.” “Plus, you might find that the two of you are pretty alike, no matter how shocking that might be.”

“Fine. I will try to be nice. And also, was that an insult?” You asked giving him some major side eye.

“No, you two are alike in some ways. Whether that is a good thing or not, Bruce and I have yet to know.” He informed you, turning the music back up, probably to keep you from asking anymore questions and bursting his bubble of excitement.

“Great,” You thought, “the last thing that I need is some rich boy who is apparently extremely handsome and possibly rude and obnoxious getting in my way.” You thought about what had happened the first and last time that you had dated someone, that certain boyfriend ended up cheating on you when you were in the hospital after having a serious breakdown of sorts. That is what led you to make a vow of some kind never to fall into another relationship, because for all that you knew, it would hold you back from your goals in life. Maybe it was irrational, maybe it was just you playing it safe, but for all that you knew, it was working so far, so why change the method?

The car pulled up to the Plaza Hotel, paparazzi and media everywhere taking pictures of the car when you and your father arrived. See, your father was a famous politician and radio/ tv host. All your life, he had been a well -known person, but it only really blew up when you were 12. You moved into what would be considered a massive new house, maybe an hour outside of New York and suddenly, you were put into a new school, had new fake friends, and were surrounded by the top 1% of the elite. You had made a name for yourself as well. There was something about attending the events, meeting the most important names in the world, and slowly building your own empire that was the sweetest tasting thing in existence. It was terrifying but also, the rush of excitement and new comings that you had desired was welcomed with open arms. Well, at least it was like that for a little while. Now, after 4 years, while you were grateful, sometimes it felt like the hustle and bustle of what you had been shoved into was too much.

The both of you walked into the hotel, bags in hand before retreating to the front desk to get your room keys as fast as possible. The lady at the front quickly checked the two of you in, seeing the swarm of people outside and recognizing you and your father. The two of you took the back, staff elevators to avoid any guests that could possibly be at the hotel for the conference that your father was holding this week for four nights. No one said a word in the elevator. The only noise was the faint sound of the machine operating and then the ding of the bell when you had come upon the 12th floor. You walked down the hallway behind your father who held the room key up to the scanner before another buzz and then a click could be heard as the door unlocked.

You smiled upon entering the room. The suite had two bedrooms, the master to the right and the guest to the left. In between that was a foyer and then sitting room. To the left of the sitting room was the tv area and then office. To the right, the dining room and kitchen. There were balconies scattered about the hotel suite along with grand elegant windows overlooking Central Park and the bustling street below. New York was your favorite city. You planned on getting a sky rise penthouse there one day on the Upper East Side when you had the money and were out of college. Another bonus was that one of your best friends, Brooklyn, who was the daughter of a very famous fashion designer lived in New York so you could visit her here.

“Father, who all is attending the opening dinner tonight?” You asked taking your phone out of your back pocket of your black jeans.

“The sponsors and a few honored guests of the conference.” He replied, “Then, after that, a few of them are coming back to the hotel room, if you can just stay in your room that would be great.” “Uhh let’s see, a few representatives from Facebook, Instagram, Google, and then a few congressmen are coming. Matt Michael, Tom Dunkin, Brad Thomas, are the congressmen guests of honor at dinner and then Bruce and Damian will be in attendance.”

“What time?” You asked recognizing the names, “I mean what time must we head downstairs and what time should I keep to my room?”

“We need to walk down at 6:50 because the dinner starts at 7 and then everyone is coming up at 9 since the dinner should end at 8:30.” He answered.

“Got it.” You said walking into your bedroom on the left side.

It was 4:30 know so you figured that you could unpack and then get ready for the night. You flipped the light switch on in your bedroom and opened your suitcase to reveal a nicely organized bag with everything sectioned off in different parts of the bag.

“If only it would look like this when we leave.” You chuckled to yourself unpacking your clothes and putting them into the dresser and closet.

You chose what you would be wearing to the dinner that night, it was going to have to be a lovely dark blue dress that came just above your knees with an off the shoulder cut. It had a top half that kind of looked like a piece of armor, but this time with small diamonds on it. You chose black heels to go with the dress, and small diamond earrings to top everything off. After picking the outfit, you headed to the bathroom with your makeup case, shower things, curling iron, and hair drier. You turned on your favorite music and got into the shower quickly washing your hair and shaving your legs.

After 15 minutes, you had gotten out of the shower and was in a robe that the hotel had left in the room for you in your closet. You started with your hair, and dried it. It took some time because of how long and thick it was, but after that, curling it was a breeze. You didn’t bother putting hairspray in it since you were just going to sleep in a braid that night and didn’t feel like washing the gunk out of your hair after the spray had set.

After that you took out your makeup. This was your least favorite part, however, it had to be done. You got some primer on and then put on a small bit of foundation before powdering. After that, you put on some plush and mascara and sprayed your face with setting spray. It wasn’t much, however the idea of it wasn’t at all your favorite. Once that was done, you slipped on your dress and put on some perfume and your shoes. Your phone was fully charged, and when you left the bedroom, your father was waiting so that the both of you could go to the dinner.

“So, have you met Damian before?” You asked as you and your father walked down the hall to the elevator.

“I have a few times, all when I was meeting with Bruce for a meeting or other social event.” He replied, hitting the button on the elevator to take you guys to the floor with the ballroom.

“Lovely.” You stated turning your iPhone on silence.

The both of you walked down a hallway again and rounded the corner to where to sound of people talking and moving around could be heard. You guys were perfectly on time but a few people had come in a bit early. Your father entered the room first and was approached by a few of the men in there. You stood by him, smiling and only talking when you were spoken to which was pretty often considering the name that you had already made in the political and business fields that your father was also a part of. After maybe ten minutes or so of making your way through the crowd, you noted your father’s pace quicken like he saw someone that he knew. You followed him to where a tall man with jet black hair and blue eyes standing text to who you presume to be his son, with darker skin, the same black hair, and emerald green eyes.

“He’s cute, cute but where’s the food?” You thought as you followed to them making slight eye contact with the boy. This had to be Damian and his father, Mr. Wayne. And for all you knew that this point, your father seemed pretty confident that you two would get along.

#damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #batfam x reader #robin x y/n #Damian Wayne #batboys x reader #red robin x reader #fan fic stuff #fan fic #batfam

47 notes · View notes

garazza · 4 years

Text

Action Comics #1022 Review

“The House of Kent: Part 1″

Starting off, we have the 9-panel grid. Because Tom King likes to use it to show off that he read Watchmen (before promptly abusing the layout to death), everyone and their mother has been scrambling to shove it somewhere in their work and try to get a useless amount of perceived street cred to show that they too had read Watchmen (killing the layout even more). Since it’s all the rage, Bendis does it here.

I actually like the third panel. As Stan Lee said, every comic is someone’s first comic (and this is the first chapter in a “highly” anticipated arc). Instead of an editor’s note, Bendis explains Kelex through dialogue that is expositional but not unnatural or clunky. But why explain Kelex of all things? My answer is well, why not? Supposedly, Conner is as unformed about a lot of things as is a potential new reader and Superman informs him in a manner that is not entirely out place, even to current readers.

Then Conner explains his origin and touches upon the fact that we’ve had a few different continuities since his creation in 1993. He is excited and curious in the first four panels and then immediately deflates in the last four. I think Bendis is trying to have the best of both worlds by writing both an excited Conner (something that fans are supposed to respond positively towards) and a depressed Conner (because he has been a victim of the discontinuity perpetuated by DC editorial and made no better by Bendis).

We get a double-page splash of the two Kents conversing that I like, especially the color of the Fortress. The conversation is very Bendis, but not offensively so. It serves its purpose, can’t be too upset about that. He tries to depict Conner as nervous, but I really hate how it’s done, it’s like reading an accent phonetically.

uwu what’s this? A fundamental misunderstanding and misinterpretation of a character? In my Bendis book? It’s more likely than you think.

Conner has literally never been little. He was created as a teenage clone of Superman and he stayed a teenage clone of Superman. He came out the test tube the punk Metropolis Kid, not the toddling Metropolis Tyke. A really big conceit of his character is that he will never look older or younger than a teenager. That’s why a lot of eyebrows were raised when in his first reappearance Bendis chose to depict him with stubble.

Another example of Bendis-speak that is fun and full of charm and character, but the characterization for the characters who are conversing is just…off. It’s a conversation these types of characters would have, just not these characters specifically.

You know, for a character that supposedly Bendis hates and wants to write off and make inaccessible to all other writers and artists, he sure writes about Jon a lot. Bendis forces Jon into the future, cutting him off not just from everything he knows and loves, but from, more importantly, the readers. This reinforces the gravity and seriousness of him being written off, but Bendis constantly undermines this hostage situation of his own creation by having him come back to the present quite often. You put characters on a bus to make them go away forever, but the bus keeps returning to the station. And the most baffling part? You’re the driver, Bendis! Commit to the fucking bit!

Jon and Braniac 5 are chumming it up, because they are toooooootally buddies, you can read alllllll about Jon’s actual, very real, and totally not non-existent friendships with the Legionnaires in Legion of Super-Heroes by Brian Michael Bendis and Ryan Sook, because Jon totally has finished watching the Legion orientation film that totally didn’t take more than 5 issues to even get him to watch and he wasn’t even interrupted once. The book is soooooo well developed and evenly paced and not at alllllll bloated behind belief.

Jon acts like he came home from college to do laundry and eat some home cooking and forgot to call ahead, like he totally isn’t supposed to stay in the future.

Me, too, Conner. I don’t know who this character is either.

We also get to see his new costume here, which I hate. The one positive thing I could say about this new character when he was first introduced in Bendis’ Superman run was that I really liked his costume. It had the cyber-armor look of the New 52 Superman suit, but wasn’t too over-designed. It worked, it looked cool. This new look is just kinda bleh. It has the ugliness of the New 52 with none of the intricacies that made it look cool and unique.

We were never going to any meeting between the two Superboys that can even remotely be called good or worthwhile. I appreciate the naiveté of certain fans who enjoy things at face value because, factually, they got what they wanted. Fans wanted this meeting and they got it, which will make the happy, but it is not at all satisfying, which is what they should care about.

Bendis has a firm understanding of Superman and his voice. The same cannot be for Jon Kent. This character is not Jon Kent. He is not written out of character because this is not his character. What we got here is not what we wanted. This is Bendis and DC editorial banking that fans will rationalize to themselves that the crumbs they deigned to give fans is actually a feast worthy of praise and exaltation (look no further than Superman #16).

Oh and by the way, this is all we get for the meeting. The rest of the issue is “wHaT’S ThE DeAl cOnNeR KeNt?”

I’m skipping over the Daily Planet stuff because I don’t care about it and it doesn’t piss me off.

Instead, I will quickly address this: “The rumor come out, does Jonathan Kent is gay?”

I want to say this came about because Jon called Conner’s leather jacket “fabulous”, but it seems this idea existed before this issue was even released. The most I can find in relation to Jon being gay is this article written 2016 and this funny little exchange in the comments of one of Bendis’ Instagram posts.

I knew I was not straight when I was in grade school and it would be amazing if such a high profile character like Jon came out. It would normalize the idea that being gay isn’t something exclusively sexual or adult, but that there is nothing wrong for kids to have feelings for someone their own age who is the same sex. But I don’t trust DC to even attempt this. If they can’t even make Dick Grayson bi, then it’s not likely for any other character to come out.

And just because he described something as “fabulous”, that doesn’t make him gay. It’s an odd choice of words, sure, but word choice is no real indication of sexuality. In an interview with ComicPOP, Todd McFarlane described a box for a figure as “sexy” and “sassy” that I might have instead referred to as “cool” or “awesome.” I think Todd’s word choice is oddly fitting, but it was not something I would have thought to use before hearing him use it in the interview, and it does not at all call into his sexuality. I have a similar sentiment about “fabulous.”

Back to the story, Superman takes Conner to meet some of the intellectual experts in the DC universe to help figure out his deal. They have some “fun” Bendis dialogue and touch upon the multiverse and continuity that Bendis has been helping shape even though he literally has never worked for DC until very recently, relatively speakingm and yet is being trusted with the word “crisis.” And what do you mean you’ve been rebooted at least three times, I thought it was seven times according to Young Justice #1, one of the first issues Bendis wrote for DC.

I saw a Reddit post a little while back that compiled clues and subtle hints that were spread out among several titles, including Tom King, Scott Snynder, and Bendis’ various books, that tied them all together with Doomsday Clock. It demonstrated a remarkable amount of coordination that I thought impossible given who it involved, but the evidence was pretty convincing. However, this was before Dan Didio was fired and they were able to avert 5G. Now that they’ve had time to regroup, I think this issue is sowing some more of those seeds that’ll eventually be dealt with by Synder’s Death Metal.

Here’s some more of that fundamental misunderstanding and misinterpretation of a character. Conner was not “raised” by the Kents. They cared for him, sure, but I wouldn’t call what they did raising.

What is being referred to here is Geoff Johns’ run with Conner Kent in Adventure Comics which took place in 2009. What that contributed to the character was only a relatively recent development in Conner’s history. It should be noted he started living with the Kents in 2002. His solo book was cancelled with Connor being dropped off by Clark at his parent’s house on the very last page. Any sort of “raising” would have occurred off panel during that time and is largely not expanded upon because there was literally no book to depict that kind of relationship until after he had died in 2006 and was brought back in 2009. They are not the sole contributors to his life like it is implied here. He lived in Hawaii and worked for Cadmus for far longer than he lived with the Kents.

And here we have Jon casually referring to Ma and Pa Kent as Grandma and Grandpa like he actually knew them instead of just knowing of them. For those of you don’t know, they were dead when Tomasi and Gleason were writing Superman and were only just recently brought back in Doomsday Clock which concluded well after Tomasi and Gleason had left the book, so Jon never met them. At the absolute most he’s heard stories, looked at pictures, and seen home movies of the Kents. You could say I’m nitpicking, but Bendis deserves it. You can feel his disregard for others’ work throughout his other books, and its panels like this that are the proof.

Jon literally has no reason to know that Ma and Pa Kent are alive. No reason. Jon’s smug face is Bendis’ way of say “Aren’t I a stinker?”

Fuck. You. Bendis.

You do not get to pretend that stories you made impossible to tell of Jon spending time with his grandparents actually did happen. Is this interaction cute and fun and a little bit wholesome? Yes. But is it genuine? Absolutely not. He’s just trying to cash in on what he thinks fans want to see with none of the heart and soul.

And now Clark is acting like Jon is visiting from college.

Piss your pants, Bendis. Jon would never refer to his best friend Damian Wayne like that. If someone else referred to Damian like that when Jon was around, he would correct them and say something along the lines of “He’s not so bad once you get to know him.” Stop pushing the narrative that Damian is some sort of demon hellspawn or psycho killer. He’s a flawed kid with a dark past that wants to be better but struggles with it and needs friends like Jon to support him. This continues to show that Bendis literally does not understand this character and why fans get upset when he writes him this way.

Another 9-panel grid, but this is not Tom King-inspired, but actually befitting the moment. Bendis still think Conner was literally raised by the Kents instead of just living with them, but I really have no skin the game of Conner being recognized as a part of the Kent family, so this doesn’t piss me off much.

I know this is supposed to be emotional because they just reunited, but the dialogue seems to suggest something more ominous and insidious is going on, something bigger than any one of them (Crisis, I know, but its kind of obnoxiously on the nose and yet unnecessarily vague).

The issue actually ends with the story I don’t really care about, so that’s the review.

Note: I realized about part way through writing this post how pissy and whiny I might sound, but I spent too much writing it to not post it.

#action comics #superman #conner kent #superboy #jon kent #legion of super-heroes #brian michael bendis #clark kent #brianiac 5

8 notes · View notes

weforgotthatwearethestars · 4 years

Text

No Memory is Gonna Save You Now (part 1)

I’ve written a thing!

While out on patrol, Peter looses most of his memories. Through the kindness of strangers, his friends, and his family, he learns exactly what those closest to him mean to him.

It’s basically just amnesia trope plus starker (don’t like don’t read please) 😊

Also here on Ao3!

Tags: amnesia, temporary amnesia, team as family, canon-typical violence, fluff, angst, happy ending

He wakes up to dark green and sodium light and pain.

Sitting up, he groans and tries to sort out his limbs. The legs get folded under because they’re annoyed no matter what it seems. The spine gets hunched around the aching ribs and generally unhappy organs. One arm, the left one, is doing all the leveraging while the right one seems to be the only thing properly screaming. The neck is rolled while the head is dropped to inspect the screaming arm.

He groans as he finds that the right arm is much more sticky-red than the other is as only the fingers on his left are coated in it. Gingerly, he rolls the sleeve back and finds -

A list.

Tower

Loby

Fri

Lab

Tony

Idly, he thinks, lists are written on your skin, not carved in, right?, and I’m pretty sure I put that there based on the blood.

“Oh, by my lucky stars, it’s you!”

His lungs are working double time, his heart quadruple, while his ribs twinge and his stomach rolls, whole body buzzing with something .

Also he seems to have become well acquainted with a tree.

“Oi, love, you’re alright? I didn’t mean to frighten you so bad.”

Without much thought, his hands let go and his body unfurls while his feet hold him in place on the branch. He comes face to face, though the wrong way up, with a lovely girl, curly brown hair, shining blue eyes, and a frown. No, wait, smile if he was on the ground. She giggles as she flaps one hand, the other holding a plastic cup and squeals, “I can’t believe I’m meeting Spider-man! Heather’s never gonna believe me!”

“Whose Spider-man?” he hears someone ask.

But, no, not quite hear, because it was also feel, and not just the vibration but the movement of the words-

I said that.

That’s what I sound like?!

He hits the ground with a thud and a flare of pain while she snorts and laughs near involuntarily. With another groan, though this one is mixed with a chuckle, he gets up. Sorts his limbs enough to lift himself from the ground, right way up this time. He’s taller than her, broader too, but she is excited and happy and practically bouncing where she stands.

"I know you probably get this alot but could we get a picture together?" she asks and she looks so bouncy that he doesn’t have the heart to ask her why would you want a picture with me ? Instead he smiles, nods, and chuckles in a way he hopes doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels. They bend close as the girl taps the screen into giving her the front facing camera. Then they’re posing and she says “Smile!” and he sees himself for the first time.

The large white lenses are a little startling, but the red, blue, and black, the detail of webbing and the obvious care taken to make the whole thing look like a second skin, comforts him in a way he wouldn’t know how to express. The suit, what it represents, is important and good and makes him feel like he can do just about anything.

The girl grins down at the photo, humming happily and swaying a little. He comes to realize that she’s been glassy-eyed and floaty the whole time and maybe, “Are you drunk?”

She fixes him with a pout while she rolls her eyes and replies, “It’s not like I’m smashed, mate, just tipsy.”

“Um.” he replies as he shuffles his feet a bit.

He knows he should find this ‘Tower’ place. It’s the first thing on a list that is carved into his arm and since he doesn’t seem to remember his face or his name (at least what this person thinks is his name) the list that’s carved into his arm seems like a good place to start.

But....he can’t just leave her here in the dark and the trees and tipsy (possibly drunk).

She looks up from her phone to take note of his pensive stance before she seems to roll her eyes with her entire being.

She sighs loudly as she turns and says, “Well, I suppose I should be glad that chivalry isn’t completely dead.” while walking into the night.

With little hesitation, he follows.

She chats idly as she follows a map on her phone and he learns that she’s an exchange student (from the UK) in college, misses her girlfriend (Heather) terribly, and is finding New York less and less confusing by the day (when sober). There’s a shriek and a groan to their left and he is too proud of himself for doing more than jump and gasp a little.

“Where the hell have you been Millie! We thought you were dead!” comes quickly and sharply from a guy in a crop top and spiked heels, while a girl in a floral button up and stompy boots rolls her eyes and drawls, “She coulda killed any junky who’d’a jumped ‘er.”

He smiles at this and hangs back while the girl, Millie, throws her arms around the two with a strong laugh and says, “Oh, my loves, did I worry you? I never knew you cared!” The guy shrugs her off with a smirk and a huff while the girl catches Millie and pulls her in a little tighter than is probably strictly necessary. “And look!” Millie says with a wave in his direction, “I had a knight in shining armor to escort me back!”

Her two friends turn to look at him as he sheepishly waves back and says, “H-hey.” Her two friends also want pictures and while the guy thanks him profusely, the girl gives him a purposeful nod and he tries hard not to disappoint. Eventually though, seeing them all safe in each other’s hands, he figures he better be going.

“Back to Queens?” the girl, River, asks with a raised eyebrow. He rubs at the back of his neck with his left, less mangled arm and says, “No, ah, I’m actually heading to a - uh -a ‘Tower’ but I’m not, well, exactly sure where it is.”

They all blink at him a bit before Millie burst into giggles saying, “‘A’ Tower. A-avenger’s ha ! Love , this is precisely why my Heather loves you!” Her friends seem to catch on because the guy, Michael starts laughing with Millie while River just sorts and rolls her eyes. He simply stands there and laughs a bit with them because, well, laughing is nice. And, apparently, he likes it when people laugh at his jokes, even the unintentioned ones. Who knew? I sure didn’t .

Before his laugh goes hysterical, he stuffs it down and says that yes, he really does need directions. Yes, his suit is very fancy but it seems to be having some issues. Yes, of course , that’s how he got hurt. And, no, he does not spend too much time in Queens he’s just a little turned around here, thank you very much.

They give him directions and wave him off, seeming generally none the wiser that he has no idea where Queens even is , much less why he’s associated with it so readily. Maybe it’s another city , he thinks, since this one is what Millie called New York .

The walk is long and dark in patches while others are brightly lit. Sometimes there are people and sometimes there’s not but it is never, ever silent. He can hear things from what he thinks must be quite far away, as sometimes he turns a corner expecting someone talking or a car reving or a bird cooing only to be surprised that it’s not right there but much, much further down or simply not there at all. It’s disconcerting, but not as weird as his feet. Sometime’s, as if they have a mind of their own, his feet will stick to the sidewalk and refuse to let go. Eventually he realizes that he’s the one doing it, somehow! And since, it seems, that sticking is easier than not-sticking, he finds a box that doesn't look terrible, rips off two pieces, sticks his feet to them, and tries not to think about how he’s decently sure humans don’t do that .

He keeps walking.

Eventually he turns a corner and realizes River’s sarcastic addendum of, ‘you can’t miss iet’ was true. It’s giant , oddly shaped, and has a huge ‘A’ on it ( oh! ‘A’ Tower! Ha, I get it now! ). Looking at the list again he starts to think, O k so, Tower, done. Now ‘Loby’ probably means the lobby of the Tower but does ‘Fri’ mean friday? Does this mean I need to be there on friday or before then? Maybe I have an appointment? Wait, what day is it anyway!?

Needless to say, he was panicking a little.

But, regardless, he didn’t really seem to have anywhere else to go, no other direction but this one.

So, to the ‘Loby’ it is.

Inside is just as intimidating as the outside. There are metal detectors and barriers but past those is a large desk with a single security officer on their phone. Everything is made of metal, glass, or white, polished rock of some kind. Marble, maybe?

He adds ‘not an interior designer’ to his List of Things he Knows Now.

He wanders forward, hesitantly, as the guard stands.

But before the guard can tell him anything, “Hello, Spider-Man. Boss is waiting in the lab for you.” as the elevator doors to the right side of the large desk open to an empty car.

The disembodied voice is female, almost lyrical, and incredibly unnerving. Though, it would seem, not to the security guard, as he simply waved, smiled, and sat back down at the desk. As he debated whether or not he should listen to the voice in the walls one of the metal detectors lights up green and he figures there probably isn’t much arguing with the voice anyway.

So he walks through the detector and as he passes the desk he pauses and asks, “Hey, man, uh, could you tell me what day it is?”

The man looks truly confused but answers, “Thursday, sir.” all the same.

He grins then switches to a thumbs up when he remembers the mask and chirps, “Thanks!” before getting into the elevator. The doors close and the car starts to rise.

“Um, hello?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“I - ” he starts confused but then waves away that line of questioning. Later , he thinks, there’s a list to sort through and the ceiling-lady could be wrong . “So you mentioned ‘lab’ earlier and I was hoping maybe you could tell me if I’m supposed to be there on friday or not?”

There’s a slight pause then, “You do have lab time schedule with the Boss at noon -”

“Ok then I should just come back then could you bring me back d-”

“No, Boss wants to see you ASAP.”

“No, but -!”

“I can’t disobey -”

“No, stop! Stop the car! I - !”

The elevator lurches to a stop and he crushes the hand rail in his frantic scrambling to stay upright. “I have a list! In my arm!” He half yells out as he pulls the sleeve up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “It says: Tower, Loby, Fri, Lab, Tony, and Tony is underlined, in case you can’t see it. So I think Tower means this building, Loby means the lobby of the building, and Fri must mean friday and if you say I have an appointment -!”

“I’m F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

He’s stunned for a moment then, “What?”

“My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y., Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth.”

He blinks, blinks again, then “That is a really weird name.”

She almost sounds smug when she says, “Blame Boss, he’s the one that named me.”

That gets him grinning. He likes ceiling lady. Add that to the List of Things. Well, Friday, not ceiling lady.

Whatever.

“Ok… I guess that counts? So, you’re bringing me to the lab?”

“If you let me move the elevator I can bring you to Boss’s lab right now.”

“Heh,” he huffs embarrassed, “yeah, no, that’s good. To the lab is good.”

The elevator begins to move again and he tries desperately to contain his excited bouncing. He got a good feeling about this Tony person. The name is underlined on his arm, an already painful task made even more painful just to get a point across.

Hopefully, he won’t be mad about the hand rail he crushed.

“Hey, Friday? Is this ‘Boss’ guy going to be in the lab you’re taking me to?”

“Yes, Boss is in his lab right now. He’s been looking for you since earlier this evening.”

The car comes to a stop and the doors slide open, so he steps out and looks around. It’s a long, drab hallway with only a few doors, all slidey and reinforced with metal.

Did I accidently wander into a prison?

“Boss muted me,” Friday says with an air of annoyance, “so I can’t announce you but I’ll open the door.”

A door slides open, sniffling and whirring drifting out into the hall. Paired with the hiccuping breaths and the annoyed huffs, it’s obvious that someone is crying or at least extremely frustrated.

Another thing to add to the List of Things , he thinks as he walks toward the doors with a lot less hesitation, incapable of not helping people .

He gets to the door to find a sad and sorry sight, though the lab itself looks amazing. There are tools and machines and projects on the tables, the floors, the walls, even hung from the ceiling! It seems to range from complex mechanics to advanced biochemical and he wants to sink his teeth into everything without ever coming up for air.

The only thing that stops him is the gorgeous man and adorable arm robot.

The robot is obviously trying to comfort the man, whirring as it rolls back and forth with a glass in its hand. The man is someone to be concerned over, though. Besides the fact that he’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen (not that he’s seen all that much), the man seems to be very upset. There are holograms projecting charts, video, and raw data of all kinds displayed around him in a somewhat haphazard way. But he’s sat, hunched over, trying and failing to collect himself as he bats the concerned robot away.

“Um, hi?”

The man runs a quick hand roughly over his face as he sits up, squared-shoulders and stern frown, as he booms, “What the hell a-!” and stops. The man’s eyes go wide and his jaw drops but he doesn’t move any further than that.

“I, uh -” he starts, stops from nerves and second-guessed thoughts, then continues as the man continues to gape, “Ms. -um- Friday let me up. She said that her boss wanted to see me and I’m actually looking for - well, it’s kinda- Gah !” The man is faster than he looks because he’s across the room and throwing his arms around him before he can really think to stop him. He hugs back mostly to make sure he doesn’t get bowled over but the beautiful man.

“ Never scare me like that again, Peter! Lovelace , I have heart problems ! You can’t just disappear off the face of the universe like that!” the man says, loud and angry but there’s a tremble in his words and in his arms that speak to how worried he was.

But he can’t focus on that, as he’s held tight and squished close by the man, because, “Is that my name? Peter?” The man pulls back, gripping his - Peter’s, it would seem - shoulders but holding him out to gape at his face.

“Wh - I - yes, of course your name is Peter. You should know that, why don’t you know that?” The man whirls away, back to his holos to swipe them all away and bring up loads of new ones. Peter stands there, a little confused. He takes the lab in a little more, itches to get into a project but he still doesn’t feel like he has permission to do so.

Peter refocuses on the man instead and decides to say, “Friday is annoyed you muted her.”

The man’s head whirls back up to him, first confused, then it all seems to click before, “Unmute, baby girl. I’m sorry about that, really.”

“It’s ok, Boss.” Friday responds immediately, sounding content and maybe a little fond around the edges.

“So you’re ‘Boss’?” Peter asks as the gorgeous guy goes back to his frantic work.

“Yeah, I’m in charge here. My lab, my rules.” the man replies distractedly. With what Peter reads as a clear dismissal, he goes poking around.

Besides , he thinks as he starts to wander, now, Friday will say something if I’m doing something truly stupid, right?

It’s an unknown amount of minutes before he’s interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. His immediate response is not to see who it is, though. It’s one thousand percent to jump up on the work table he’s in front of and land in a defensive position, facing the hand that was touching him. It turns out it’s just ‘Boss’ (I should really ask his name. Or maybe just what I call him. ).

“You ok there, Pete?” the man asks, part amused, part concerned. Peter feels himself blush but tries not to get too concerned over it, since he’s still wearing a mask.

“Y-yeah, sorry, uh, didn’t mean to do that. Heh.” Peter stutters out.

The gorgeous guy smiles a little fondly up at Peter then asks, “Need a hand?” as he holds a hand up to him. Smiling, Peter takes the hand gratefully and hops down. “Peter, where did you get the cardboard from?” Peter looks up only to find the man looking down, so he follows his gaze to the cardboard he’d had on his feet until five seconds ago.

Peter smiles sheepishly at the other man and says, “Yeah, ah, I kept sticking to the ground so I just stuck them on my feet? I can kind of, um control the sticking but I’m not very good yet.” The other man is giving him such a complicated look that Peter decides to try and change the subject. “So, um, wh- ah, well, ok - what’s your name? I’m sorry I should probably know this, too, but I don’t. I don’t really remember -”

“Anything.” the other man finishes with a grimace.

Peter shrinks in on himself further, not sure why but hoping desperately that he hadn’t disappointed the other man. “I talked to Strange. He said he took all of your memories and put it into this.” the man says as he holds up an I.D. card between two fingers. Peter takes it, glances at the picture but quickly focuses on the name underneath.

Peter Parker.

“He didn’t have time to separate everything out so he just….took everything.” he continues on with a flap of his hand, whirling around to key something else up. The holos flicker on around his head as the man asks, “Baby girl, scan Pete’s brain. Full front to back, anything we can do. And shut his modulator off, that thing sounds wrong when you talk.” There’s a beep from his suit and - maybe that’s why I sound so weird .

“On it, Boss.” Friday chirps as the holos begin to flash on around him. The man seems to be complaining about someone or something when something else catches Peter’s eye. He grabs the holo, adjusting it around so he can read it. He expands and manipulates it in a way that feels natural to him so he tries not to think too hard about it as he starts to see - no, that can’t -

“I’m part spider?!” Peter’s voice startles himself just as much as the other man, stopping mid rant, buried in holos, to look over at Peter with an incredulous look on his face.

“I tell you a wizard took all your memories to keep a hive mind of aliens from scrambling your brain and that’s the thing that you’re focusing on?”

“That explains the sticking, I guess. And the get-up.” Peter murmurs as he continues flicking through what must be his own lab results over the years, ignoring the man’s question just as his own had been ignored. “I wonder, does that explain - ha!”

Peter pulls up a video labeled ‘strength eval.’

It starts with the gorgeous man explaining to a younger guy (a lab tech maybe?) how much different weights are and how he intends to combine them on to one, reinforced, barbell. The whole thing looks like gym equipment got swallowed by a forklift and even more hydraulics, but if they’re testing superhuman strength, it would make sense that the superhuman would need something more than a normal human’s gym equipment to lift and spot them.

He expects that the video may cut to someone else, someone more….familiar to him but, instead, the person Peter assumed was a lab tech lays out on the weight lifting bench. It clicks, just then, as the gorgeous man on the video starts telling the younger guy to be careful and don’t push himself and this is just to get a baseline so no -

That’s me , Peter thinks.

Peter sees what must be himself go through several variations of weights until they’re all piled on the bar and the guy, himself, in the video, is laughing a little as he lifts it like it's nothing . “Ok put the 10 ton weight down, we’re done.” says the gorgeous man in the video, sounding half-way disbelieving.

“But I can lift more, let's try -”

“Pete, we don’t have more. I thought 10 tons was over kill !” and then the two dissolve into laughter and the video ends.

Peter looks over at the man, who’s looking right back, face serious but a little lost all at once.

“You really don’t remember anything do you?”

Shaking his head, Peter glances around, finds a stool to collapse on, then does just that.

He rolls his sleeve up again, turns his arm to show the man as he says, “This is all I had when I woke up. I didn’t know where or who I was, just…. that everything hurt. Especially this arm. When I looked at it…. I found the list.” Placing it back in his own lap, Peter stares at the skin, healed too much to be anything but accelerated. He chuckles, “I ran into this girl. Apparently her girlfriend is a big fan of Spider-Man. Or...me, I guess. I - I thought maybe she’d got me confused with someone else but then, when I asked where a ‘Tower’ might be, they pointed me here. Then, when I got here, in the lobby, Friday knew me and had me come to the lab. I thought m-maybe, whoever ‘Tony’ is, that they’d be here. I thought that they’d fix this because -”

Peter cuts himself off with another chuckle, wetter this time, “I know this sounds stupid but it’s underlined .” He looks up at the man, who’s walked a little closer to him with a face that says he may be in just as much pain as Peter is. “That’s gotta mean something. Right?”

They are silent for a moment, as the man inspects Peter’s arm with reverence and fear swirling in his eyes.

“Yeah, underoos, it does.” the man finally replies as he puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder, something shifting in his posture, on his face, in his head.

“I - My name is Tony Stark. As far as I know, I’m the only Tony you know.” He’s got a fond smirk on his face, eyes shining with determination now as he holds out his hand and continues, saying, “And you’re right it does mean something.”

Peter takes and shakes Tony Stark's hand, a little mechanically. But his smirk is infectious and he feels himself smile, faintly. “It means I’m going to fix this. And I promise I won’t stop until I do.” And Peter, to Tony’s credit, feels better about this whole situation than he can ever remember feeling.

It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.

***************************************************************************************

Sooooooooo, what do you think??? 😅

Please let me know! I’ll be posting every weekend on here and Ao3 until the end!

Like, reblog, or just send me a message, I’d love to here what you think or even make new friends 🥰 Thank you!

(part 2 coming later tonight as I posted this chapter last week on Ao3 do to tech issues)

#amnesia #temporary amnesia #team as family #fluff #angst #happy ending #starker #tony x peter #peter x tony #ironspider

2 notes · View notes

alexanderlightweight · 5 years

Text

what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

for @signoraviolettavalery

technically it started out as a part of whumptober no.4 (human shield) but it gained life because of a discussion a while back

warning: violence, injury, minor character death

ao3 link

Antar reigned supreme and Earth had finally relented, not a complete surrender but close enough to one that Antar had been appropriately gracious. Still, some rebellion remained and as leader of Antar’s armies, Michael was the primary target for discontent and revenge. What had begun as a routine security check had turned to politics and now, he was being forced to consider a human bodyguard. For some it would be an insult, others an annoyance and for Michael, he’d been prepared to find as much amusement as possible in it, until he’d seen who Isobel wanted as his bodyguard.

The son of one of Earth’s greatest rebels, the child of a terrorist who had supported genocide and the love of Michael’s life.

“You want him , to protect me?” Michael asked, derision dripping from his tone and he ignored the flash of hurt in Alex’s eyes. A decade of cat and mouse, of always being in the wrong place at the wrong time, of having the wrong parents and now this? He would hurt Alex as much as he needed to if it meant sending him away from this mess.

“Micheal, Alex Manes is one of Earth’s most prominent warriors?” Isobel asked in confusion, “his military accomplishments speak for himself even if his skill on the battlefield didn’t. I thought you were willing to have a human bodyguard as a show of trust?”

“Yes, well not him. Wasn’t it his father who nearly killed my mother? And you expect me to trust him to protect me? This is probably what they want.” Michael said and he crossed his arms over his chest, raising his chin just a little and making the room rattle, as if he were losing control at the very prospect of Alex Manes protecting him. The reality was vastly different and yet so dangerously close to the truth.

“That is why it’s important you let him protect you,” Isobel hissed quietly, looking around as if to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “If you’re that worried about it, I’ll look into his mind.”

“No!” Michael swallowed down the second protest, licking his lips nervously. “No, if you do that and they find out, it’ll make this whole thing pointless. Better for me to handle it.”

“So you’ll accept him?” Isobel was still worried about his outburst but he could tell she was relieved.

“I won’t accept him,” he said, louder than before and if the room shook, no one needed to know that it was because he definitely saw Alex’s flinch. “But he’ll do until I can replace him.”

“Good,” Isobel said and her eyes flashed with victory. “Manes, you’ll report to Michael’s head of security, understood?”

Michael bit back a curse as he watched Alex agree, this was one of his worst nightmares and he couldn’t even wake up from it.

Michael knew that if the assassins didn’t kill him, then being this close to Alex and having to ignore him would.

It was a torture that he bore with far less dignity than he should have but it was a torment designed to drive him mad.

How was he supposed to stay sane when protocol dictated that Alex enter any room first? Michael had to watch Alex stalk with a predators gait before him without being able to outwardly admire it. Had to imagine how it would feel, if Alex were shot. Would he stagger first? Or rally and go for the weapon that Michael had personally built and insisted that he use?

Michael had given it to him, claiming that he was worried about Earth’s inferior technology rather than admit he just wanted Alex to have something that Michael had created. They were almost never alone, surveillance or Michael’s own guards or Isobel’s spies and every time he thought they would get a chance to speak, to clear the air- they were interrupted.

At night, Michael would wake up thrashing and in the throes of nightmares. He’d lie there panting, the dream of Alex’s face paling from bloodless haunting his sleep and as much as he hated it, he would demand Alex’s presence. Force him to check the windows that were sealed with Michael’s powers, just to see him safe and alive and breathing.

If the worry of Alex being hurt was painful, then the dreams of him dying were the cruelest torment.

Michael faltered only once, half asleep by the time Alex had finally turned to go and Michael had reached out. Grabbed desperately at him with his powers, pulling him to the bed and wanting nothing more than to tuck Alex in next to him, to hold him in his arms and shelter him from the world.

He hadn’t been able to do any of that.

Alex had gone limp in his hold, head lolling back as he surrendered to what he thought was an act of self-defense on Michael's part and for one terrifying moment, Michael had thought he’d killed him. He’d been furious with himself and with Alex for that image.

In the nights that followed the incident, sleep did not come easily and when it did oh, how the nightmares followed.

Now, when Michael dreamt of Alex’s death, he dreamt of snapped bones and a brittle body. Of vacant, glassy eyes and the cracked and bleeding smile forming the words “as you wish. ” He dreamt that the grave he wailed over was one of his own making.

If Alex died, there would be no grave. Michael would bring him back to life if he had to use an entire city to do so and if Alex protested that, well, what was one more hurt between them at this point?

It was days after and Michael had refrained from calling Alex to his room, no matter how bad the nightmares got and how reassuring it would be to see him. Instead he soaked up Alex’s presence during the day, watched him without caring who noticed and of course, someone did.

“I thought you were trying to protect me, not kill me.” Michael muttered, rubbing furiously at his shoulder from where he’d walked into the doorway.

“Who said I can’t do both?” Isobel asked teasingly, “besides, I’ve seen the way you look at him. Consider this a gift from me, you get to enjoy some eye-candy before karma catches up with him.”

Michael swallowed and reluctantly turned to look at Alex. Alex who was wearing a new uniform that consisted of a black leather jacket and tight leather pants that had been specially modified to adjust for his prosthetic while still doing the utmost at framing his ass.

Michael wasn’t going to survive this and every time he turned around, he was reminded that no one expected Alex to either, they just happened to be for very different reasons.

The dart hit Alex first, he went down with it and Michael froze, watching his body hit the ground felt like a thousand fears coming true at once. It was only the beginning.

He and his men were targeted next, sharp needles piercing through armor and skin and Michael could feel the instant disconnect from his power, the nearly overwhelming wrongness of his skin.

He ached and Alex was too far away for him to hold.

“Sir!” One of his men called and Michael grit his teeth, gathering his balance as he remained standing even as others fell around him. He was stronger than them, stronger than his enemies and he would prove that.

There was a drop, a mere taste of his power still at his disposal and he readied it. He knew the darts were only the first part of the attack, a rare but effective way of subduing Antarans. Bullets were easier to apprehend but darts, those led the way for further destruction and brought death in their wake.

Just a few feet away, Alex got back to his feet and Michael heaved a sigh of relief even as Alex turned towards him.

Michael tasted it first, warm droplets of salty iron on his lips, even before he saw Alex stagger. His name fell like a desperate warning, a plea from Alex’s lips as he staggered. Michael caught him before he could fall, cradling him closer than he’d been allowed to for what felt like years. Alex’s body, so warm and so close and bleeding out in his arm. More shots rang out but he could only focus on Alex who was once again leaving him behind.

“We have the sniper,” one of his soldiers said, “but the area is still unsecured. Sir, we need to get you to the ship. Now!”

Michael ignored him, sinking to his knees as he gently lowered Alex’s body to the violet ground. “Alex,” he whispered softly and pressed his hands down on his chest, feeling the delicate creak of human bones protest beneath his palms. “Alex please, not like this. Not ever.”

“Michael, you need to go. I’ll be okay, but you need to go.” Alex said and Michael shook his head in protest. He felt numb, empty of everything but desperate fear and his breath hitched when a warm, wet palm pressed against his cheek.

It was a sick, twisted mimicry of a lovers embrace. How Alex used to cradle his jaw before gently tangling his hand through Michael’s curls to pull him down for ardent, adoring kisses.

“Michael, please. Go .”

He could feel Alex’s bloody handprint on his cheek like a brand to his soul, memorized the brush of his fingers through a few stray curls and could imagine how he must look. Hair stained crimson and face claimed by a dying lover, a cruel imitation of a promise he’d always craved.

“Get him to safety,” Alex said. A final command and they listened, Michael’s own warriors disobeying their leader, their ruler as they pulled him away.

“Alex,” Michael called and he fought the arms on him, “ Alex !”

Michael let out a litany of curses, his voice heralding threats of violence on both them and their families and vowing to destroy all that they represented but still they wouldn’t listen.

Betrayal.

“Someone will retrieve the body,” a soldier informed him, “as soon as you’re safely secured, Sir.”

Michael went limp, let himself be dragged just long enough for them to think that he’d listened as he reached deep within himself. It was a place he rarely dared go. That hallowed, hollow place inside where Rath resided.

They could contain Michael but Rath would never allow himself to be subdued. It was why Michael buried that part of him so far down that it was forgotten, even by himself at times. One should always have a contingency plan and Rath was Michael’s. Michael couldn’t be sure how this would end but if Alex lived then it would all be worth it.

Rath awoke from Michael as a swimmer surfaced from the deep, born anew and greedy for air.

Rath was not Michael or his men, to be so limited by something as fickle as a pollen filled dart. No, Rath was power and it could not be stripped from him.

The soldiers were pushed aside, batted away as easily as a child discards a useless toy. Across the divide his powers found Jesse Manes and they broke him, an afterthought that Rath barely took note of. There were things of far more importance than the death of an enemy.

Normally, Rath demanded his lovers to come to him but for Alex, always and only for Alex he would set aside his pride. Rath’s feet barely brushed the ground, power practically begging to be put to use as he finally reached the man he loved and oh, how beautiful but broken could one man be.

Where Michael would have asked and pleaded for Alex to stay, cajoled and sweetly begged him, Rath demanded. It took but one move for him to kneel and around him his soldiers followed, by no will of their own but by Rath’s command. For Alex, he might kneel but the world would crumble before he bent the knee for anyone else. Max sat on a throne not by his merit alone but by the grace Rath showed in allowing him to rule.

“You will not leave me,” he told Alex, “or the blood of a thousand worlds will water your grave.”

Alex laughed, blood bubbling against his lips and dyeing them the sacred red of life. Michael would have wiped it gently away but Rath claimed it for his own with a demanding kiss. Alex’s breath was too precious to be lost to the atmosphere. If they were to be his last than Rath would hoard them away, a treasure far too valuable to be wasted.

“You’re safe,” Alex told him, promised him. “Safe from my family, from my father and safe from me.”

“You tore my heart apart once,” Rath reminded him, “and it never healed the same. How could I ever be safe from you when everything I do is because of you?”

“Michael.”

“If you’re are lost to me, what reason is there to spare the living? If death takes you from me, why should the universe be allowed to thrive?” Rath and Michael asked both in agreement and both tragic in love.

“You always were overdramatic,” Alex said and he coughed, weaker still than before.

“You always did think too little of yourself.” Rath told him, “one of the many things I am going to change. No more pretending, no more hiding away from the truth.”

“What truth?” Alex asked and his eyes widened in alarm when Rath began to unbutton his shirt, pulling aside his armor. “You can’t heal,” he said desperately. But a dying man’s desperation was no match for a living god’s determination, “that’s not one of your powers. Michael, it could kill you. Stop, please.”

“One of my powers?” Rath asked almost thoughtlessly as he pressed his hand to Alex’s marred skin, “you don’t know the extent of my power, Alex. No one does. They will though, if it means keeping you then I’ll tear this galaxy apart and move on to the next. Once, the records named me a star killer. For you, I’ll let them remember why.”

Alex mouth, lovely and stained, opened to no doubt utter a protest and when Rath pressed down, he screamed instead.

It was a beautiful sound, full of pain and life and strength and it belonged to Rath. Every precious moment of it was a promise, a vow that Alex would not be taken from him, that he could not be taken from him. Rath was born to defy fate, he had conquered life and he had martyred death and he would not let the mortal downfall of compassion change that now.

It was Rath’s powers that brought Alex back to life but it was their arms that carried Alex to the ship, to safety and to their bed. Where he was placed with gentle reverence where he belonged and where he could be kept safe. Even healed Alex’s body was too still for his liking but he knew, from the handprint that connected them that he was still alive. He could feel every beat of Alex’s heart like an echo of his own.

From the moment Rath had connected them, he had felt everything that Alex had tried to hide. All this time Alex had pretended that his heart had hardened and that the love he felt for Michael had calcified and decayed but Rath knew now that the bitter, beautiful truth was that he loved Michael. That Alex’s heart beat for him alone, that he adored Michael with such a devout fervor that it had Rath’s own heart aflutter in aching, twinned sympathy. He’d never doubted Alex’s emotions but to feel them, what a balm to the soul it was.

“Michael!” Isobel called and she ran to him, a sister relieved to find her kin alive and well. It pinged something in him, a softening of his outward stoicism and he allowed her to embrace him. Wrapped his arms around her in return and held her close, knowing that things would change between them very soon.

“You’re alright?” She asked worriedly and stepped back, hand on his shoulder, “did Manes threaten you? They said you wouldn’t leave his body, someone even said you tried to heal him? Are you okay?”

“The enemy was dealt with. Jesse Manes is dead and retrieving Alex Manes body was simply a show of goodwill,” he said and tried to match his voice to hers. It was a little stiff, but he knew that it would be attributed to shock, “Earth can’t claim us callous with their warriors.”

“So he is dead?”

“It’s simply incredible what a skilled hand can do.” Rath said with a smirk and then smoothly added, “the armor he wore was well made.”

“That’s a relief,” Isobel said, “apparently he’s friends with Liz.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I didn’t want to alarm you but gods, can you imagine how annoying Max would be if Liz lost a friend.” Isobel gave a deliberate shudder, “the amount of consoling I’d have to pretend to be capable of.”

“You are capable of it,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but I’d have to pretend to be sad about her friend.”

Rath clenched his hand, the one that had given life back to Alex and pasted a roguish grin on his face, “you wouldn’t be?”

“For Alex Manes? Half the reason I let him be picked as your bodyguard is because I knew he’d do anything to prove he wasn’t like his father.” Isobel’s smirk was tinged with cruelty, “fair is fair after all. Mara and I both agreed that if he died to save your life, it would be

“My mother was part of this scheme?”

“I wasn’t about to let her find out from the rumor mill that the son of the man who tried to kill her was protecting her only child. She agreed that his death would be a fitting punishment for his families crimes.”

“And now?”

Isobel shrugged, “he’s proven himself but he’s still a Manes. Once the rebellion is crushed for good he’ll be discreetly sent away. I doubt Mara will have him killed, not after he successfully protected you. However there won’t be a place for him, not on Antar.”

“How tragic,” Rath mused, “that’s practically ruthless, Vilandra .”

Isobel turned, eyes sparking and defiant, “we’re not them, Michael . I have no need of that name. This was to protect you, to have justice that otherwise would never have happened.”

“Of course. As you say, it was merely justice.” He kept his tone light and even gave a gentle, playful tug on her hair.

Isobel relaxed and looked relieved, he knew that her abilities, the history that she could claim, it scared her. She ran from her legacy as did Max. Michael however had never truly ran from the truth, only hidden it until it was of need and now, if he was going to have Alex by his side and keep him safe, Rath would always be needed.

They both would.

For Alex, Rath would destroy the world and for Alex, Michael would rebuild it.

Michael had never been able to leave a mark anywhere on Alex but Rath’s, his would never fade.

“I should be dead.”

Rath scoffed as he shook his head, ignoring Alex’s absurd statement, “I don’t appreciate blasphemy being spoken in my own bed.”

Alex ignored him, narrowing his eyes in reprimand, “Michael.”

Rath ignored him, reaching to press his hand to match the print on Alex’s chest.

“Fine, Rath .”

Rath’s lips curled into a smirk, the victorious pleasure of his name being said blossoming between them, a fruitful garden of triumph.

“ Alexander ,” his fingers danced against their glowing match, “my ardent defender. Protector of my heart.” Alex gasped, low and soft and for his ears alone, just as this admittance was for Alex only.

“After all this time, why now?”

“If there were ever a reason for me to destroy the world, it would be you.” Rath promised and leaned forward, pressed a kiss to Alex’s brow and then resting his cheek against Alex’s jaw. “Will you deny the same?”

“How can I,” Alex asked as his hand joined Rath’s over their connection, “how can I lie to your face knowing you feel the truth.”

Rath kissed him then, a reward and a consolation.

“What about your family? Your duties? The politics of you being with a human are complicated enough but me, how will it even work?”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Rath promised, “first though, first we’re going away. Just the two of us. Everything else can wait, this time is ours.”

The ship was small and the stars before them seemingly endless as Alex stood on the observation deck.

“How are you feeling?” Rath asked, pressing a kiss to Alex’s bare shoulder. The wound he’d borne in defense of Michael had left no scar, but the handprint would remain. A stark reminder that he had almost died, almost been taken away and that by Rath’s power he’d lived.

“Good, healthy.” Alex said and turned, tilting his head and allowing himself to be wrapped in a tight embrace. “How are you?”

“Ready to show you the stars.”

“How do you know I haven’t seen them?” Alex asked, “we spent years apart. I could have seen all of this without you.”

Rath scoffed even as Michael’s petulant irritation welled, “then I’ll discover new ones.”

“You’re going to compete with the universe then?”

“I’m going to win against the universe,” Michael said and Rath settled, going nowhere but pleased and just as excited as he was. “I already have, after all I have you.”

#whumptober2019 #no.4 #malex fic #roswell new mexico #rnm #malex #violence #injury #michael guerin #alex manes #isobel evans #rnm fic #my fic #fanfic #fanfiction #Words of October

33 notes · View notes

smokeybrandreviews · 4 years

Text

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Full Shares

I have one helluva backlog of films to work through but, between those and other distractions, i am having just the dickens of a time getting through them. I’ve started Uncut Gems three different times but the tension, man, it stresses me out way too much. I have to take breaks in between and just forget about where i left off so i need to start over. I have to say, though, the twenty to thirty minutes i have seen is absolutely excellent. In the meantime, while i muster enough nerve to actually finish that film, i wanted to revisit one of my all-time favorites. Way back when i first saw this movie, it gave me the same intense, stressed out, panic i feel watching Gems. Alien changed the way that I interacted with film and, to this day, it’s one of maybe a handful of movies to ever illicit true fear from me. I saw it, for the first time as a young kid of maybe six or seven, in a late night showing on TV and i remember even the broadcast edit spazzing me the f*ck out. Imagine my apprehension seeing the theatrical cut fr the first time a few years later. As i got older and learned to appreciate the moving parts of film individually, i came to love Alien even more. Not only is it actually terrifying. it’s one of the best built movies i have ever seen and carries the template for bad-ass film like a badge of honor. Cats say the sequel, which i’ll get to in a later review, is better than the first, but i wholeheartedly disagree. This movie is easily top three all-time for me and here’s why. I have to tell you from the outset, this movie is perfect in my opinion. There are no flaw so don’t expect any negative, just me gushing about the excellence within.

The Outstanding

The very best aspect of this movie is easily Sigourney Weaver’s portrayal as Ellen Ripley. My goodness, was this character absolutely amazing. When people think of Ripley, they often remember Cameron’s version of her from Aliens. To most people, Ripley is that chick, strapped down in a power loader, calling the Queen Xenomorph a b*tch to her face. That is, undeniably, iconic. Ellen Ripley solidified the template for strong, female, lead with that scene. But Ripley didn’t start out that way. She had to earn that title and it began with her battle for survival in the original Alien. Ripley began as an undermined, kind of by-the-book, Warrant Office, just trying to get back in time for her daughter’s eleventh birthday. Over the course of two hours, we watched Ripley evolve into the absolute unit that she is known for and the nuanced portrayal of that evolution by Weaver shows us the harrowing journey with an almost visceral vulnerability. Ellen Ripley is not a character, she is a person. You feel for this woman and her struggle. You root for her. You gasp when she fails. You want her to survive. To get attached to a film character so completely is testimony to the excellence of that actor’s performance and Sigourney Weaver turns one in for the ages. Not bad for a twenty-year-old’s second film appearance, first speaking role.

You can’t speak about Alien without the iconic imagery provided by the nightmares of H.R. Giger’s art. The raw, horrifyingly sexual, disgustingly organic, yet wholly bizarre vestiges of the LV-426 hive were incredible. That initial pan of the fossilized Space Jockey fused to his pilot’s seat can’t help but inspire very real awe. I imagine seeing that reveal on an Imax screen and it is absolutely riveting. More so, entering into the hive itself, wit all those corridors woven from steel and flesh, leading into the pitfall trap full of the waiting, legitimately alien eggs illicit a feeling of primal terror. Those things are nothing like anything terrestrial. They are just familiar enough to inspire curiosity from the audience but uncanny enough to trigger apprehension. Absolutely brilliant but the true genius, the source of constant panic, belongs to the adult xenomorph, itself.

Big Chap, as the production team called it, was a miracle of effects work. The suit was custom built to fit the near seven foot frame of Bolaji Badejo but it was his physicality that lent an organic presence to the techno-organic monstrosity. That original Xenomorpgh was wildly terrifying to me. Even at my young age, i weathered Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and Jason Voorhees, with rather stoic aplomb but the Xenomorph sent me into a panic. I had legitimate nightmares about this thing which had never happened before. Giger had created a creature of such instinctual terror that you has no choice by to fear it and that sh*t is amazing.

I touched on how excellent Ellen Ripley was as a character, giving well deserved credit to Weaver’s portrayal but, like all classic characters in storytelling, Ripley began on the page. The writing for Alien is some of the best i have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Every character, every scene, every aspect, of this story is tight. Dan O’Bannon deserves all credit for this classic script. He wrote a story filled with characters and suspense, never identifying male of female unless absolutely necessary. I miss when films were films and not soapboxes for gender politics. It’s amazing how timeless and iconic characters can become when you’re not trying to push a goddamn agenda.

Now, O’Bannon’s script is excellent but it took a true visionary to bring it to life. Ridley Scott was that creative. Alien was Scott’s second directorial effort and he was able to craft a visual narrative far beyond what his tangible experience would dictate. Scott is a true visionary. The way he saw O’Bannon’s script was incredible. I mean, the vistas of the Derelict Ship, the sanitized halls of the Nostromo, that whole retro-futuristic look, the abject terror and repugnant reversal of sexuality with the Alien; All of that is Scott. O’Bannon gave this man one helluva blueprint but Scott built a goddamn monument of cinema in his own right.

The sound design in this film is absolutely classic. The hisses from the alien, the clacking of the computers, that harrowing voice from MOTHER during the adrenaline packed climax; Every sound, echo, pitch, and clank is perfectly administered to embellish the hellish visuals onscreen. I’ll never forget the first time seeing Brett’s death scene. The subtle sway of chains giving way to the impactful sound of those water droplets hitting his face, lulling you into a false sense of security, only to see the Xenomorph puncture his skull. That mixture of screams and rattling chains was haunting, brilliant use of sound for a horror set piece and testament to it’s voracity.

I spoke at length about Sigourney Weaver’s casting and performance but literally everyone is outstanding in this film. being an original script, not based on any existing media, you had an open template to create these characters. In a sense, casting for this type of project is even more tantamount than building a cinematic adaption of a novel or comic. This film is going to be known for these characters, for this world, going forward and Alien nailed this sh*t. Aside from Weaver’s star-turning performance as Ripley, John Hurt turned in a rather endearing outing as Kane, the first victim of the Xenomorpgh. Tom Skerritt was probably the biggest name in the film so everyone thoight that his character Dallas would be the lone survivor. Nope. Veronica Cartwright’s Lambert was woefully unraveled, specially during the Chestburster scene and Ian Holm’s Ash is easily unnerving his uncanny valley-esque performance. Harry Dean Stanton’s Brett was a man of few words but my second favorite performance in this entire film belongs to Yaphet Kotto. His portrayal as the aggressive, outspoken, incredibly loyal, Parker, endures to this day. These characters are all incredibly written and skillfully performed, bringing characters to life that will endure through time.

This movie came out in 1979, man! It is four decades old an can still give anything created today, even with out advances in effects work and film techniques, a run for it’s money. That is testament to the deft hand and expert precision in the construction of this movie. It’s rare that a film can be so timeless and it’s easily the first i have ever seen to capture that high mark. There are others like that; Jurassic Park, Twelve Angry Men, Jaws, The Godfather, To kill a Mockingbird, Star Wars, but even those classics show chinks in the armor. Not Alien. That Retro-futuristic design is absolutely timeless and fits in with any era of cinema.

The world Alien created was ripe for elaboration. The franchise, alone, produced three sequels; Each an amazing look at different film styles, directorial vision, and cinematic genre. Aliens is arguably one of the greatest sequels ever and has a completely different tone that the first. Some would ay it’ even better than the first. I wouldn’t but others do. There have been books, comics, games, and so much more based on this world. Alien: Isolation is easily the best game ever made based on the franchise and it stars that eleven-year-old daughter turned adult woman, Amanda Ripley, in a similar situation as her mother. Let me tell you, bad-assery must run in the family because Amanda was just as dope as her mom during her own gauntlet. And just like her ma’s adventure, Amanda’s outing stressed me out to no end. I loved the Earth War comic growing up and the introduction of Ripley 8 was something special. She was kind of ridiculous in the fourth film, Alien; resurrection but the comics did 8 much better justice. Speaking of artificial constructs, i would be remiss if i didn’t mention the absolutely charming android Xenomorph, Norbert, and his predecessor, Jeri, but my favorite hybrid is definitely Eloise. That’s not to mention the excellent stories with in the Aliens versus Predator mythos. I’m not going to get too heavy into that lore but you’d be hard-pressed to find a more amazing, female protagonist, outside of Ripley, than Machiko Noguchi; The human Japanese woman, blooded by the Elite Leader Yautja, Broken Tusk, given the title of Little Knife by the space-faring Predators. Ma is a f*cking machine and it’s a crime AvP ignored her story for what we eventually got in cinemas. Hell, there are even aspect of the Prometheus portion of this universe that i like, even though i don’t particularly like the film, itself. Elden is a dope character with a ton of potential for the overall lore going forward. There is so much excellent material in the Aliens expanded universe; Characters, concepts, worlds and more. The expansive nature and reverence for this universe rivals that of Star Wars, none of which could be possible without the inspired execution of the original Alien film.

The Verdict

What can i say? Alien is a goddamn masterpiece. From the second those titles slowly manifest to the exploration of LV-426, to the claustrophobic panic of the Nostromo, to Ripley’s triumphant yet uncertain fate in the end, i absolutely adore every aspect of this movie. Everything about this movie is deliberate and amazing. The performances are all excellent, everyone does an exceptional job. The set design is gorgeous and in the case of the alien hive within the Space Jockey’s ship, disgustingly beautiful. Giger’s art as perfect for this film but his design for Big Chap, the original Xenomorph design, was absolutely unnerving. The first time i saw it onscreen, i was both enthralled and horrified. To see the massive beast, in the few glimpses you got between some of the most excellent lighting ever captured on film, was incredible. There are shortcomings, sure, all films have them but i don’t believe them to be a negative. The pacing can be a little dragging at times but it’s absolutely necessary to build atmosphere. I thrive on slow burn films like The VVitch or Blade Runner 2049 and it was Alien that taught me patience in film can be a virtue. I cannot praise this film enough. For me, Alien is as close to perfect as can be. This easily gets my highest recommendation. If you’ve never seen Alien and appreciate sheer psychological terror, beautiful sets, brilliant direction, awe inspiring shots, and some of the best sound design ever captured on film, you’ll love this movie.

#Alien #Alien 1979 #Xenomorph #Ripley #Ellen Ripley #Smokey brand Movie Reviews

3 notes · View notes

fahcandall · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019 - 8 (AH Minecraft)

Prompt 10: "Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me."

Fandom: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter (Minecraft - Immortal Kings AU)

Characters: Michael Jones, Gavin Free, Geoff Ramsey

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Weapons, temporary death, immortality, mature language, minecraft, rpf

This one's a direct scene from a different longfic I'm writing. Hopefully I don't lose anyone in the background lore of this universe, it's got a few more of my own ideas worked into it than the fahc stuff.

...

Michael did not like the fact that creepers had started watching him. Sure, creepers were aggressive when they spotted a person, and living in the forest, Michael dealt with them a lot. But usually they didn't mass the way they were doing now, circling around his treehouse and just staring up at it. One creeper was easy enough to deal with. A couple were still manageable, but this many? If he were to try and shoot them, he'd run out of arrows before he got rid of them all, and even for him going in with his sword might be suicide.

"This is about that crazy guy isn't it?" Michael shouted down to them. "Look, wandering around the forest is a good way to get killed a lot more painfully than by my sword. I didn't know he was your friend! I mean really, who the fuck wears creeperskin?" The creepers didn't do anything. He didn't figure they would, not like they could understand humans or anything. Michael wondered if that guy had actually be their friend. It would explain the creeperskin. Michael had never even seen creeperskin, but that was obviously what the guy had been wearing. He'd come up on Michael and startled him. The guy didn't even have any armor on, nothing to stop him from taking the full force of Michael's sword. It had seemed disrespectful to touch the clothes a person he'd just accidentally killed wore, even if they were unique, so the only thing Michael had taken from the body was the golden bow he had been carrying, which seemed like a poor choice of material for a weapon, in Michael's opinion. He figured the next time he was going to a village he'd take it and sell it. Or maybe it deserved a trip into Achievement City. Someone there would be more likely to have the money to make it worthwhile. That had to be where it came from. Some stupid show of wealth, that probably got stolen by an idiot who ran around the forest with nothing but creeperskin and a golden bow.

Actually, now that Michael thought about it, maybe a witch hit him with some really odd potion. But still, weird. And he still had the problem of creepers surrounding his house.

"Go away!" Michael yelled down at them.

"They're not gonna go away unless I tell them to."

"Fuck!" Michael cursed, jumping a foot in the air, hand instantly going to his sword.

"Hey, if you stab me again I can't tell them to go away, and what's more, I won't." Sitting on the branch outside his window was the man Michael had stabbed, creeperskin and all.

"How are...who...what?"Michael stumbled over his words, pulling his sword, despite the man's words. He didn't look like a zombie, and he talked, but...he should be dead. He had been dead. But now he was here, right outside Michael's window.

"Look, if I come in, are you going to stab me again? Cause that still hurts you know. Who's first reaction to meeting someone is to stab them? No wonder you live out here alone." The man instantly irritated Michael.

"Who walks around the forest without any armor and a useless weapon? You're just asking to be killed!"

"Look I'm coming in." The man said.

"Not until you prove you're human." Michael replied.

"Well, that'd be a trick. I'm not." The statement, said so casually, completely blew Michael away.

"What?"

"You think humans come back after being run through? You've been out here too long. I'm a god. My name's Gavin. Now, can I come in?" Michael blinked but didn't move to stop him as the man...the god...Gavin, moved around to the door and climbed in.

"Are you actually a god? Like, in disguise or something? What do you want?"

"Oof, loaded question, that. Let's avoid that one for now. How about we go back to introductions. I'm Gavin, I helped create, well, I suppose you could say the world, but my real creation was the creepers. I got bored of the other gods and figured Geoff had the right idea, so I came back to the world."

"Geoff, as in, the King of Achieveland? The God who Stayed Behind? That Geoff?" Michael asked, staring at Gavin.

"Yes." He nodded like it was a simple question. "And you are?"

"Michael." Michael answered guarded.

"Top. Why do you live out here in the middle of the forest, and why do you stab people as soon as you see them?"

"Uh, I don't really get along with people, and I'm good at this." Michael gestured around himself.

"At killing things?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Michael hesitated as Gavin looked around.

"Did you, uh, want your bow back?" Michael guessed.

"Oh, you did take it? Good. I was hoping you would have it. The creepers usually bring me my stuff if it's anywhere they can get to, but they didn't have it." Michael handed it over frowning.

"You actually created creepers?"

"Yeah." Gavin grinned like it was a joke. Michael tried to keep calm, he was, possibly, talking to a god, who could do who knows what to him, but the sheer disregard for life amazed him.

"What the fuck made you think that was a good idea? Do you know how much damage they cause? How lethal they are to people? That mob outside? If they don't leave and I try to go down there, I'm dead!" By the time he finished he was shouting and Gavin blinked at him a couple of times.

"I mean, they were never meant for humans. They were a joke for the gods. You don't really have to worry about it..." He must have seen that Michael was about to start shouting again because he hurried on faster. "But if it makes you more comfortable, I'll tell them to go away before we go."

"You're going to just tell them to go away?" Michael asked. "Wait, we? Why would we be going anywhere?"

"Yeah, uh." Gavin hesitated but then picked what must have been the easiest question for him. "Creeprs have more limited free will than humans. I can make them do something if I want, but otherwise they just generally live their lives."

"Yeah, okay, sure." Michael said. "Why'd you tell them to surround my house then?"

"I needed them to find you for me."

"Why? Did you tell them not to explode around me too?"

"Nah." Gavin shrugged, that same nonchalance that made Michael's blood boil. "There's some things about their design I can't change. Their whole purpose is to explode around us, I can't take that away from them."

"You're insane. You realize that many would kill me almost instantly?"

"Uuh, I mean. Kinda?" He was being cagey again and Michael threw up his hands.

"Not kinda! Just dead. I don't know what's up with you but humans die and they stay dead. That's how it works! I don't know if you actually are the god who created creepers or if you're just some crazy man who got hit with a weird potion of some kind, but I'm a human and if I die then that's it!"

"Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me. Just come with me." Gavin said. Michael crossed his arms, not quite willing to refuse, but not willing to trust Gavin with his life either.

"Where are we going?"

"Well, you can either come to one of my temples and see what I'm on about, or we can go straight to Achievement City. Your choice. Either way, we're eventually going to the castle." Gavin turned to the window and looked out on the creepers below, then made a motion so casual Michael almost missed it for what he'd just said.

"The castle?" Michael asked, for the first time anger fading out to be replaced by worry, barely noticing the creepers start to wander off as Gavin turned back to face him. "Why? No one just goes there."

"Because you need to talk to Geoff. He'll know how to explain this. And I think you'll see that some people go there, just a, certain type."

#fictober19 #achievement hunter #ah #ah minecraft #immortal ah #immortal kings #rpf #writing #mine

24 notes · View notes

daresplaining · 5 years

Note

Who are your favourite DD villains? Fisk, Bullseye and Mr Fear all sound brilliant from what I know of them, but are there any others with similarly iconic influence on Matt?

There are! Daredevil comics aren’t known for their well-crafted villains to the extent that, say, Spider-Man or Batman comics are, but I really enjoy a lot of Matt’s rogues gallery. Fisk and Bullseye are probably the two biggest names, but there are many others who have had major impacts on his life, and the Marvel Universe in general, over the years. Here are some of the most notable DD villains, in my opinion:

Gladiator (Melvin Potter) is a major antagonist who, over the years has become arguably one of the most nuanced and interesting Daredevil characters. I wrote a longer post about him, way back when we thought we might actually get a Gladiator origin story in the Netflix show, but in general, a lot of his lasting appeal comes from the complexity of his character. When he was first introduced in Daredevil vol. 1 #18 he was a pretty standard Silver Age villain: a guy with semi-logical origin story, a funky costume, and a penchant for monologuing. Specifically, Melvin Potter was the owner of a costume store who was sick of being disrespected by his customers, and so decided to make a name for himself by attacking people with spinning blades.

[ID: A panel from Lee’s Daredevil run. Daredevil is battling the Gladiator. Daredevil hoists himself up on a big crate to dodge one of the Gladiator’s spinning wrist blades.]

Matt: “He’s not fooling with those wrist blades… he’s fighting for real! But, why? I’m certain I’ve never met him before!”

Melvin: “You can’t keep dodging me forever! And the moment you slip, you shall have the honor of being my first victim!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #18 by Stan Lee, John Romita, and Sam Rosen

Over the years, various writers have worked hard to add nuance to his character. Despite his fearsome appearance and goal of gaining respect, most early Gladiator stories involve Melvin being manipulated by stronger, smarter supervillains. Later, he becomes even more sympathetic: a dangerous killer who, at heart, is gentle and naive and hates when he loses control and hurts people. This creates an inherent discord in his character that adds an emotional hook to all of his stories. Matt tries to help him, and Melvin is grateful for Matt’s friendship and returns that favor when he can, but sometimes they end up having to fight each other. Essentially, Melvin’s story is the relentless tragedy of a man who wants to live a peaceful life but keeps falling victim to his own demons and the cruelty of the world around him.

[ID: A page from Miller’s Daredevil run. Matt Murdock, in civvies (a tan suit and blue tie) confronts Melvin Potter, who is in a prison uniform and holding his Gladiator helmet.]

Matt: “Melvin, we’ve come so far. I know how much you want to be well… to go straight. We can help you, Betsy and I.”

Melvin: “I been trying, Matt. I been sitting in that courtroom, listening to them say those things about me, feeling my guts churn up, wanting to rip them all to pieces… They hate me. They all hate me… so I’m gonna hate them back!”

Matt: “I’m not letting you off that easy. If you want to become the Gladiator again, you’ll have to get past me.”

Melvin: “Past you?! Look at you– you’re just a skinny little blind guy! I’d break you in half! It’d be easy…”

Matt: “Is that what you want?”

Melvin: “Why not? I’m the Gladiator! The Gladiator! When I’m wearing my armor, I’m unbeatable, I’m…”

[ID: Melvin throws the helmet and falls to his knees.]

Melvin: “I’m all alone. Help me… please…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #173 by Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, and Glynis Wein

This complicated and heartwrenching characterization has helped Melvin to remain a fresh and popular antagonist (anti-hero, even) and a regular guest in Daredevil. He is one of several characters who complicates the hero/villain dichotomy, and thereby both emphasizes and challenges Matt’s own heroism.

Typhoid Mary/Mary Walker is another one of the more famous Daredevil villains, and someone who has had a significant impact on Matt’s story over the years. I wrote a longer post on her as well. Female antagonists in particular seem to suffer from a variety of weaknesses in their depictions, and Typhoid– as a sexual character by nature, as well as someone who plays upon “crazy” villain tropes– has had her share of not great depictions over the years. However, at her core, she is a wonderfully compelling character and a dangerous villain who is literally multifaceted by design. Even moreso than Melvin Potter, Mary plays upon the concept of a good person who is powerless to prevent themself from doing violent things– in Mary’s case, through genuinely having multiple psyches inhabiting one body. She is in constant conflict with herself, as gentle Mary and bloodthirsty Typhoid battle for dominance. As much as she is an antagonist to Matt and the other heroes whose paths she crosses, she is her own arch-enemy.

[ID: An excerpt from Nocenti’s Daredevil run. Typhoid Mary and Daredevil are both underwater, in the East River. Mary looked panicked partway through strangling Daredevil, and flees out of the water.]

Mary/Typhoid: “Don’t kill him! You! Shut up! I love him! Stop! Get out of my head! You can’t kill him! Get out of my head! Oh, god! Where am I? Why am I dressed like this? What have I done?!”

Matt: “Curious. That’s a completely different woman running away! What came over her?”

Daredevil vol. 1 #256 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

Matt’s dealings with Mary have brought about some of the more unheroic moments in his career. In Joe Kelly’s attempt to integrate the Man Without Fear-verse origin story into the 616 universe, he proposed that Matt nearly killed Mary on his first superhero outing. When Typhoid, in her introductory arc, is hired to seduce Matt, it works– he cheats on Karen with her. Later, when attempting to bring down the Kingpin’s empire, Matt removes Mary from the equation by sleeping with her to get her guard down and then forging documents to have her locked away in a psychiatric hospital. She hits all of his weak points: as Mary, she is a victim who needs rescuing… and an attractive one at that. As Typhoid, she is a dangerous enemy who must be stopped. In addition to her skill with weapons, she has all kinds of awesome psychic powers– including, most notably, pyrokinesis– and something about her physiology messes with Matt’s senses and makes her difficult to fight. She is a challenge on every level, and in many ways, Matt serves the same purpose for her– Mary (and, arguably, Typhoid as well) accidentally falls in love with him, representing a loss of power and control that she can’t stand.

[ID: Excerpt from Nocenti’s Daredevil run. A series of panels alternating between Daredevil falling off a bridge and a tear sliding down Typhoid Mary’s cheek.]

Daredevil vol. 1 #260 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

The Hand I love the Hand– which is to say, I love the Chaste, and part of why I love the Chaste is because I love their rivalry with the Hand. On some levels, the Hand are your standard Big Bad Secret Organization, but I also find them to be a lot of fun, and they have been a significant force in Daredevil comics since they were introduced. The Hand are key players in Miller’s updated version of Matt’s origin, which introduced Stick and gave him a purpose for training Matt. They also had a huge role in Elektra’s origin, since her attempt to singlehandedly bring them down from the inside led to her becoming an assassin. And of course, Matt’s role as leader of the Hand and temporary vessel for their patron demon, the Beast, was a defining moment in recent DD comics and a low point of Matt’s career. The Hand are dangerous because they are vast, and their high-ranking members have all kinds of cool powers, which I love. And there’s also a certain amount of weakness and dysfunction to the Hand that makes them appealing. They are a once-great organization relegated to being mercenaries-for-hire. Their low-ranking members are fairly weak– as Matt quips in Volume 1 #380, “a little harsh language and [they’re] up in smoke!” They were led by a Skrull (disguised as Elektra) for a while, and didn’t even notice. Arguably their most dangerous enemy, Master Izo, mostly just bothers them with Hand puns.

[ID: A panel from Diggle’s Daredevil run. Daredevil, seen from the back, is standing in an empty room. The light from the sunset streams in through the windows. Izo is sitting behind him on the floor, drinking tea.]

Matt: “Look, you wanted me leading the Hand, you got it… but I never agreed to be your puppet.”

Izo: “‘Hand puppet.’ Heh.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #503 by Andy Diggle, Roberto De La Torre, Marco Checchetto, and Matt Hollingsworth

I also enjoy the way the Hand and the Chaste operate and Matt’s relationship with them. Matt isn’t an official member of the Chaste (like Elektra, he was rejected for being too emotional– which, in his case at least, is a fair assessment) but he still teams up with them on occasion, and the experience almost always puts him out of his depth in really entertaining ways. Matt is one of the Hand’s biggest enemies and one of the Chaste’s most useful allies, so he gets dragged into their business even when he doesn’t want to be involved.

[ID: Excerpt from Daredevil: Ninja. A conversation between Daredevil and Stone in a series of face close-ups.]

Stone: “We need your help.”

Matt: “You should have asked me to come.”

Stone: “Would you have?”

Matt: “I hate this ninja crap. I hate it. Every single time it’s nothing but lies, half-truths, and misguided loyalties. Stay away from me and my life.”

Daredevil: Ninja #2 by Brian Michael Bendis, Rob Haynes, and David Self

There are also two excellent (and, I’d say, influential) alternate universes in which Matt joins the Hand and thrives in their presence: What If? Daredevil vs. Elektra and Earth-65 (Spider-Gwen-verse).

Lady Bullseye (Maki Matsumoto) And if we’re discussing the Hand and the Chaste, I have to mention Maki– undisputed head of the Bullseye Fan Club and another of my favorite Daredevil villains. She’s relatively new (she was introduced during Brubaker’s run) and so hasn’t had a particularly big long-term influence on Matt, but she is a great character with extensive connections to Daredevil history. One thing I love about her is the fact that while she modeled her look and identity on Bullseye, she isn’t treated as just female version of him, as her name might suggest. They actually have very little in common; she just chose to honor Bullseye because he played a role in her origin story by indirectly rescuing her from a human trafficking ring.

[ID: Panels from Brubaker’s Daredevil run. Bullseye is single-handedly beating up a bunch of gun-toting mobsters in a warehouse building. Maki Matsumoto watches him between the bars of a large cage.]

Caption: “She remembers that so vividly. Remembers the joy she beheld that day from her cage. She had never seen anything so beautiful, she thought. Of course, she was nearly insane already by then. But then, like a miracle… freedom.”

[ID: Maki reaches between the bars of the cage and grabs a key from a dead mobster’s pocket. As she tries to escape, another mobster runs toward her.]

Man: “You– back in your cage, girl!”

Maki: “I think not.”

[ID: Without looking at him, she slices his throat with the key.]

Daredevil vol. 2 #111 by Ed Brubaker, Clay Mann, and Matt Hollingsworth

Since then, Maki has teamed up with Bullseye– mostly notably, resurrecting and caring for him after his death in “Shadowland”– but more often, she operates on her own as an assassin. Like both Elektra and Matt, she was trained by the Hand and the Chaste without forming an official allegiance with either, and it seems her primary teacher was Master Izo– thus making her Matt and Elektra’s ninja aunt and/or sister in the Chaste Family Tree that definitely exists in my head and nowhere else.

[ID: Excerpt from Brubaker’s Daredevil run. Lady Bullseye and Izo are standing on a Manhattan rooftop as the sky brightens behind them. Pigeons are flocking around them; Izo has one perched on his hand.]

Maki: “You said I would lead the Hand.”

Izo: “I said a lot of things when I was training you, girl… Said whatever I needed to say.”

Maki: “You’re as bad as them.”

Izo: “No. I didn’t put you in a cage and sell you to the Yakuza.”

Maki: “You still used me.”

Izo: “Yes, I did… but I’m not going to apologize.”

Maki: “Someday I’ll kill you for this. You know that, right?”

[ID: Izo leaps off the roof.]

Izo: “Yeah, well… get in line.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #500 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

Maki masterminds the destruction of Matt’s life that leads him to join the Hand. She is extremely smart (she passes herself off as a lawyer during Brubaker’s run and fools both Matt and Foggy; as far as anyone knows, she might actually have a law degree…?), an excellent fighter (arguably better than Matt, not quite as good as Elektra), an absolute badass, and an all-around great antagonist who deserves her own solo series (hint, hint, Marvel).

Death-Stalker I’m not sure Death-Stalker counts as a major Daredevil villain, but he was used about once a week in late 70s Daredevil so he’s certainly been a recurring presence. I also just find him really cool, conceptually. One of the interesting things about Death-Stalker is that he started his existence as a completely different supervillain: the Exterminator, who is best known for “killing” Mike Murdock! The Exterminator had a weapon that could shift its victims out of sync with the time-stream. When Matt blows it up to fake Mike’s death, the Exterminator is caught in the blast, with shocking consequences:

[ID: Excerpt from McKenzie’s Daredevil run. A series of flashback panels: the Exterminator (a kind of goofy-looking villain with a purple and white costume and blue antennae on the side of his mask) watching Daredevil pull a lever, then the Exterminator getting caught in an explosion and falling into a void.]

Death-Stalker: “How many long and empty years has it been, Murdock? How many… since you so callously destroyed my awesome Time-Displacement Ray… catching me fully in the time-shattering explosion?! How long has it been since I was hurled through the fabric of time? But what you believed to be my death proved instead a macabre rebirth! I found myself in a timeless limbo! Unobserved, I could go anywhere! Do anything!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #158 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, and George Roussos

Thus, the Exterminator returns years later as Death-Stalker– a villain who can move freely through time and space, become intangible at will, and whose mere touch is lethal. This, combined with his new appearance (glowing eyes, bony hands, huge billowy cape…) makes for an excellent creepy character concept, and some of the Death Stalker issues feel more like horror stories than the typical Daredevil comic.

[ID: Excerpt from Gerber’s Daredevil run. A tired Daredevil is making his way through a swamp. Death-Stalker appears behind him out of the fog and puts a skeletal white hand on his shoulder. Daredevil collapses.]

Matt: “H-he’s gone! Nothing but an empty cape! It’s not possible! It– where did he go?!”

Death-Stalker: “Here, Daredevil. I am here. Death is at your back.”

Matt: “Huh? Wha– No!! My… shoulder… your fingers… like ice–!”

Death-Stalker: “Like death, Daredevil. Like the grim, glacial embrace of the North Wind. No use to flee… you can’t outrun the wind.”

Caption: “For Daredevil, for this sightless adventurer, all the world is blackness, all the time. But now, a different kind of darkness envelopes him, a sort of oblivion he has never known before. He hears his heartbeat slow… feels his mind empty of all thought… feel his every nerve tingle, then go numb… and he knows that he is… dying. And that is all he knows when the darkness claims him and the Death-Stalker relaxes his grip.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #114 by Steve Gerber, Bob Brown, and Stan G.

Sadly, though, I don’t feel he was ever used to his full skin-crawling potential, particularly considering how dangerous his power-set was. He was mostly just a nuisance who rarely got the upper hand, and he was killed in Daredevil #158 when he accidentally materialized through a tombstone during a fight with Matt. One of my favorite details about Death-Stalker isn’t Death-Stalker himself– it’s that his mother lived in a booby-trapped mansion and owned an army of exploding robotic children that she sicced on Matt to avenge her son’s death. But that’s a story for another post…

Jester (Jonathan Powers) The Jester gets no respect, and it’s a shame because he’s both genuinely a great villain when he’s used well and highly entertaining when his 1960s goofiness is played up, and he manages to embody both of those characterizations with absolute panache. He has played a role in some fairly major Daredevil stories over the years and I’d consider him a staple DD villain. His origin story is pure Silver Age silliness: he was an actor who received bad reviews for his first major starring role, found his career heading downhill, and so decided to become a supervillain instead. This is pretty typical of motivations for villains of this time period (see the Gladiator’s origin story above, and Stilt-Man below), but even this aspect of his character has been put to good use. Daredevil #218 features a surprisingly touching story of the Jester stealing the chance to reprise that first starring role– and of Matt keeping the cops distracted (by pretending to be the Jester!) so that his enemy can finally live his dream.

[ID: Excerpt from O’Neil’s Daredevil run. The Jester is dressed as Cyrano de Bergerac. He pulls off his false nose and bows dramatically to Daredevil and the cops who have come to take him in.]

Jester: “A moment ago you unmasked. Now I shall perform a similar gesture… I am your humble and obedient servant… the Jester! At your service!”

Matt: “You deserve the bow. You were magnificent.”

Jester: “Indeed! I trust the critics will change their tune.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #218 by Denny O’Neil, Sal Buscema, and Christie Scheele

Throughout the issue, Matt draws comparisons between himself and the Jester: their shared mask-wearing and the experiences of disillusionment that shaped their lives– and while it certainly doesn’t give the Jester the emotional depth of certain other Daredevil villains, it’s a memorable connection.

But where the Jester is at his most dangerous is not as an actor looking for attention– it’s as a creator of chaos. The Jester is a master of illusions and media manipulation. In his introductory arc, he frames Daredevil for his murder and turns Matt into a wanted criminal. Later, he uses a campaign of false news reports and misinformation to sabotage Foggy’s run for District Attorney, turn the superhero community into targets, and throw the whole country into an uproar. Most recently, in Waid’s run, he manipulated TV footage to cause rioting in NYC in the wake of an unpopular and highly publicized court ruling. His plans don’t always succeed, but even then, the scope and effectiveness of the damage he causes makes him a truly formidable villain.

[ID: Excerpt from Waid’s Daredevil run. The Jester is sitting in front of computer monitors in a dark room, yelling into a microphone. In the next panel, we see random civilians in a cafe, watching “Mayor Jameson” (played by the Jester) on TV.]

Jester: “Listen to him. God, he’s so smug. No matter. This is a minor setback. Daredevil’s not the ultimate target, after all. The city’s the target, and it’ll burn. Voice synthesizer on… People of New York… this is Mayor Jameson! Effective immediately, I am rescinding all handgun regulations in Manhattan! Take up arms– for your own protection– and await further instructions!”

Daredevil vol. 3 #32 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

The Owl (Leland Owlsley) The Owl has, unfortunately, been overshadowed by the Kingpin for most of his existence, and as such, hasn’t been given anywhere near the same amount of character development or nuance. They were created based on the same character concept: a high-powered mobster with a shadowy network of pawns who controls the city’s criminal underworld.

[ID: A series of panels from Lee’s Daredevil run, showing a man in a long green coat and brimmed hat walking into an office building. His face is not shown; the people he passes looked at him with fear.]

Caption: “This is Wall Street, heart of New York’s Financial District, where fortunes are made and lost by the world’s greatest financial wizards! And, within the canyons of this street, we are about to find one certain man… a merciless man… a man with no friends… no loved ones… nothing to connect him with the human race, save the fact of his birth! Let us follow this man… let us study him as he walks into a towering office building, his heavy footsteps reverberating through the huge marble lobby! For we shall see much of this man on the pages that follow… He walks slowly, but with a sure, steady tread… looking neither to the right nor the left… ignoring those he passes and those who pass him! But he himself cannot readily be ignored by others! His very presence seems so fraught with evil, with menace, that his fellow humans shrink back from the mere sight of him! There are some who recognize him… who speak his name in whispers… for his wealth is said to be legendary, and his power almost beyond measure!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #3 by Stan Lee, Joe Orlando, and Sam Rosen

Unfortunately, the Kingpin just ended up doing it better, and while there are a few Owl story arcs that I really like, I’ve never found him that interesting. However, he is hugely significant because he was the very first Daredevil supervillain, introduced all the way back in Daredevil #3! (In #1 Matt fights the mobsters who killed his father, and in #2 he fights Electro, who is a Spider-Man rogue.) Thus, he has had an impact on Matt’s life simply from having been around for so long. This also means there’s a huge range in his stories, verging from extremely ridiculous (he sometimes eats rats, and used to own an owl-shaped airplane. How cool is that?) to slightly more grounded. There is a great Owl story arc in which his bird-like body modifications start killing him, which gives his law-breaking more nuance, because he is doing it to look for a cure. Matt, upon discovering this, tries to help him.

[ID: Excerpt from Chichester’s Daredevil run. Daredevil and the Owl are on a fire escape together. The Owl has metal cybernetic legs and has collapsed. Daredevil is comforting him.]

Matt: “You’re going to make it, hear me? You’re gonna–”

Owlsley: “You should’ve let me…”

Matt: “Unh-uh. You take my hand– you’re willing to take my hand– I don’t let go. You’ve got some long ways to go, mister… but you can count on me…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #303 by D.G. Chichester, M.C. Wyman, and Christie Scheele

There’s also great point in Bendis’s run when the Owl, in a surprising demonstration of cleverness, hires a lawyer to sue Daredevil for breaking and entering. It doesn’t work, but it throws Matt off and is absolutely priceless.

The Owl has also had several children– two unnamed young kids who were introduced in Alias, and Jubula Pride, who was introduced in Daredevil Volume 4 and worked alongside Matt to rescue her father. Jubula’s brief-but-memorable appearance added a bit more depth to the Owl– allowing us to see him in the role of a parent as well as a villain. But mostly, over the years the Owl has remained one of the more insidious of New York’s mob bosses, always scheming to stay in power and fight his way out of the Kingpin’s shadow. And he’s been doing it for so long that he feels like an integral part of Daredevil comics.

Turk Barrett He’s not a costumed supervillain or even much of a threat, but Turk has become an iconic Daredevil antagonist for both his sheer ineptitude and his plucky ability to stay alive. Of all of the recurring low-level mobster characters, he has the most engaging personality, and his dynamic with Matt is one of long-held friendly animosity. Daredevil isn’t the most dangerous person in Turk’s life, Turk isn’t the most dangerous person in Matt’s life, so they mostly just annoy each other. They’ve even been known to team up, when Turk thinks the odds of survival are in his favor.

[ID: Excerpt from Daredevil: Love and War. Turk Barrett (dressed in a white shirt and blue pants) is mopping the inside of an elevator. The doors open, and Daredevil walks in. They ride the elevator together.]

Matt: “Turk! You got the job!”

Turk: “No, man… this… I mean, I’m working undercover, man… I’m your backup!”

Matt: “I believe you, Turk.”

Turk: “Even know what level the doc’s on, man… So how’d you get in, Devil?”

Matt: “I flew in, Turk.”

Turk: “…Course. I knew that. ‘Spose the window locks weren’t much trouble…”

Matt: “Melted them with my heat vision.”

Daredevil: Love and War by Frank Miller and Bill Sienkiewicz

Turk is an underdog. He’s kind of a goof and he’s certainly a criminal, but he’s also a small fish in a big and dangerous pond, working in a career where most people eventually end up at the bottom of the East River in concrete shoes (or a taxi, as the case may be). He’s slippery and resourceful, he stays just harmless enough to keep himself out of danger, and you can’t help but root for him, even when he does dumb things like stealing Stilt-Man’s stilts or trying to kill Daredevil for the hundredth unsuccessful time.

Stilt-Man (Wilbur Day), of course, requires no introduction. He is another personal favorite of mine, and a rare case of a goofy Silver Age villain surviving into the modern era while remaining exactly as goofy as he was when first introduced. The great appeal of Stilt-Man is, in fact, that he’s a bit of a joke, while at the same time being quite dangerous, in a comic book physics-kind of way.

[ID: Excerpt from Lee’s run. Daredevil is battling Stilt-Man on a daytime city street.]

Wilbur: “Hah! You missed!! Have you forgotten so soon how easily I can change my height, thanks to my magnificent hydraulically-operated stilts?!!”

Matt: “Mebbe so! But I haven’t forgotten that I’m the gent who whumped you good last time fought! (Man! It sure is lucky I was here! If Stilt-Man ever managed to get the Leap-Frog safely away, what a team those two would make! But, I hear the boys in blue hauling that human jumping jack right now! Which means Stilty and I can go it alone!) Heads up, dad! It’s time for fun ‘n games again!”

Wilbur: “Hah! Didn’t expect me to seize your cable, did you? I should have warned you, little man– I’ve modified my protective armor in such a way as to double my strength! Which means I’m more than a match for your limited talents!!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #26 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, and Artie Simek

Part of the charm of this characterization is the fact that he’s a joke in-universe as well; most of his appearances in modern comics consist of Stilt-Man being made fun of and/or of the audience being reminded that he’s actually a threat. This creates a great balance in his depictions; the jokes are fun, the sight of various superheroes being beaten up (at least a little) by Stilt-Man is fun, and he remains an enjoyable, mostly lighthearted presence in a landscape that has become dominated by Dark, Serious, and Disturbing villains.

[ID: Excerpt from Bendis’s Daredevil run. Matt is sitting at his desk in his darkened office, talking to Wilbur Day– a short, bald guy in a black jacket, with his arm in a sling.]

Wilbur: “Wilbur Day– I’m Stilt-Man. We’ve met four hundred times.”

Matt: “Stilt-Man– Huh. Oh, you mean that burglar guy Stilt-Man? Who wears the stilts and robs things?”

Wilbur: “Can we please just–”

Matt: “We’ve met when?”

Wilbur: “I–”

Matt: “Are you in some kind of legal trouble? Is that why you’re here?”

Wilbur: “Okay, fine.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #41 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

Stilt-Man is just a short guy in a ridiculous outfit who wants to commit some crimes and get a little respect– and really, who can’t relate to that?

Ikari (???) I’m mentioning Ikari not because he’s a long-established Daredevil villain– he’s not– but because I am fascinated by his potential. He’s a favorite of mine as much for what we don’t know as for what we do. In his introductory arc, we learn this: He was engineered/commissioned by Bullseye to kill Matt, his fighting abilities equal Matt’s, he has hypersenses, and (as a horrified Matt discovers later) he can also see.

Ikari: “Someone has, in fact, managed to re-create the toxic chemicals that blinded you, gave you enhanced senses. Someone whose hate for you keeps him alive. But he didn’t waste the process on weak, malnourished vagrants. He used it to baptize a warrior. A fighter trained to be every bit your equal in skill– and now, in power.”

Daredevil vol. 3 #25 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

And that’s it. We don’t know who he is or where he came from, or what the consequences are of having that degree of sensory perception (presumably his vision is heightened too?). We don’t know what his personal goals or motivations are, since we’ve only ever seen him as a pawn– first of Bullseye and then, later, of the Kingpin. But the concept of his character as someone who shares Matt’s powers plus some– who is essentially, skills-wise, a criminal version of Matt– and all the mystery that surrounds him, is hugely compelling to me.

[ID: Excerpt from Waid’s Daredevil run. Both Ikari and Daredevil are out on the street, being shot at by cops. As Daredevil hides behind a parked car, Ikari attacks the cops and cuts their guns in half with his blades.]

Matt: “The cops are hunting me under an open-fire command. Presuming they’ve been advised of Ikari’s prison break, I’m sure the same order applies to him. I wish it scared him. I wish anything did.”

Daredevil vol. 4 #17 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Matt Wilson

In his last appearance he was killed by the Shroud, but his body was stolen, leaving the door open for him to maybe return sometime in the future and receive more development. I hope he does.

#soulfireinc #Gladiator #Typhoid Mary #The Hand #Lady Bullseye #Death Stalker #Jester #Owl #Turk Barrett #Stilt Man #Ikari #Asks #Adventures in Continuity

35 notes · View notes

captainpikeachu · 5 years

Text

as some of the fandom are new to Trek through Discovery and have not seen Pike’s episodes in TOS, I thought it might be interesting to talk about something that I feel is an important aspect of the character that Discovery itself has not yet quite touched on so much and new fans may be unaware of the extent of it

three years before his command of Discovery, Pike was in such a state of depression that he considered resigning his captaincy and walking away from it all

I bring this up because with the writers talking about linking TOS canon to Pike’s current story and Anson Mount’s comments about Pike facing major emotional challenges, this seem a good time to examine how the Pike we saw in TOS episodes would link with the Pike we know in Discovery and the aspects of his personality that Discovery has not yet properly explored or shown except in tiny glimpses

for the most part, the Pike we have met since Season 2 started has been a jovial charming person - he smiles easy, is relaxed, has a sense of humor, and generally feels like a warm person who can put you at ease, and obviously the writers designed him to be that way because Pike needed to come in and be a safety blanket for the crew after their last season with Lorca - as the writers themselves have said, Pike is there to be a healing force for this crew to galvanize behind a proper Starfleet captain - all that easy charm and swagger and charisma, they might as well have grown him out of a Starfleet Captains lab, but this creates an interesting contrast to the man we see in The Cage unaired pilot and the flashback scenes of The Menagerie, and it makes you wonder what gave him this second wind?

because the Pike we met in the unaired pilot and the TOS episodes was a more or less sullen, brooding, and rather serious person - he was tired, weighed down, burned out, in fact, in his conversation with his CMO Phil Boyce, Pike even talks about resigning - this conversation is so very important because so much of the character can be glimpsed:

Boyce: What’s been your mind Chris, the fight on Rigel VII?

Pike: Shouldn't it be? My only yeoman and two others dead, seven injured.

Boyce: Was there anything you personally could have done to prevent it?

Pike: Oh, I should have smelled trouble when I saw the swords and the armor. Instead of that, I let myself get trapped in that deserted fortress and attacked by one of their warriors.

Boyce: Chris, you set standards for yourself no one could meet. You treat everyone on board like a human being except yourself. And now you’re tired, and you...

Pike: You bet I’m tired. You bet. I’m tired of being responsible for 203 lives, and I’m tired of deciding which mission is too risky and which isn’t, and who’s going on the landing party and who doesn’t. And who lives...and who dies. Oh, I’ve had it, Phil.

Boyce: To the point of finally taking my advice, a rest leave?

Pike: To the point of considering resigning.

Boyce: And do what?

Pike: Well, for one thing, go home.

resignation is not something to be considered lightly, especially people who’ve reached Pike’s position of power, yet we see a person who is clearly hammered down by guilt and pain, trying to hold a burden that he may not be able to shoulder any longer - he’s suffering from depression and self-hate, and as Boyce pointed out, holding himself up to a standard that he doesn’t place on anyone else and looking through that lens to see that he wasn’t good enough to protect his people, he’s looking for faults even if no one else is blaming him

so it makes me wonder, if this is a man whose depression is so tied to his ability to protect people, then how did he come through the war being as jovial as he seems on Discovery? how much of the Pike we are seeing is a man who actually perhaps worked through his depression and found a way to deal with it? and how much of it is simply a mask he puts on for the Discovery crew because he knows they can’t have a captain who might feel like he’s falling apart?

because a man who is so burdened and in so much guilt over losing lives, how does he go through an event like the Klingon War and being forced to stand down and be on the sidelines watching as people die and he can’t do anything to save them without having that depression re-triggered? how does he not consider walking away again because he’s tired of it all? yes the incident and loss of lives on Rigel seemed to have been building up in him for a while at the time he considered resigning, but they certainly lost far more people in the Klingon War in a shorter amount of time than probably all of Pike’s time as captain, and surely some of those people he probably believed that he could have done something to save them even if Michael had mentioned that Enterprise was so far away that they couldn’t have done anything - so again, is this smiling side of him just a mask he’s putting on?

i’m not saying that Disco Pike is entirely so different from TOS Pike, they are still the same protective person who will fight for his people and certainly don’t like being threatened or put into a cage, and we do see through Anson Mount’s performance that there are these glimpses here and there of a sadness behind his eyes that he’s holding back (the scene in episode 1 with Michael talking about the toll it took and the last scene with Tyler in episode 6) - but if we are to look at the demeanor of Disco Pike and TOS Pike, Disco Pike seems to be more outwardly charming as well as being more approachable - whereas TOS Pike seemed to lean more towards a darker serious aura, Disco Pike might as well have been painted by the writers with a giant halo of bubbly happiness

i guess i am just curious if the writers intend to bridge Disco Pike and TOS Pike, where as this season goes on, we get to maybe see this happy go lucky mask dropping with Disco Pike and more of that darker edge comes through? i mean, it was only just 3 years ago that he was so depressed that he wanted to quit Starfleet - so what gave him this second wind? was it the mission to Talos? was it something else that we never got to explore since that pilot never got picked up so maybe Discovery can now address it? was he able to find a way to work through his depression and realize what he wanted to do? is this something he still works at every single day to ensure that he doesn’t slip back into that state of feeling again? did the Klingon War push him back down from recovery?

it’s just very interesting to me because Pike and Boyce’s conversation about what happened on Rigel is such a mirror to Pike and Michael’s conversation in Episode 1 about the war - Boyce points out that there was nothing Pike personally could have done to prevent the deaths and injuries on Rigel, but Pike rejects this and finds fault in what he should have done - Michael points out that there was nothing Pike could have done for the war effort to save lives because even if Command had called Enterprise back, they were so far away they would have never made it back in time, but again Pike rejects this, he almost gives a little scoff as he walks away repeating what Spock said about “what is the logic in staying away if there is nothing left to come back to?” - in both cases, Pike holds himself up to a standard that seems to blame only himself and no one else, everyone else can be human, but not him, and it’s this that makes me really wonder about his current mental state in Season 2?

we know that there is a sense of recklessness that is driving him, this sense of inadequacy for missing out the action and not having done anything to protect people - lives were ending and he could do nothing but watch - I’ve talked about before that’s probably why he keeps going out on almost every field mission himself and jumps into danger to protect everyone else at the expense of himself, which leads to an interesting link back to Pike’s conversation with Boyce where he talks about how he’s tired of deciding who goes on the landing party and who lives or dies, so has he basically decided then that’s why he goes on every landing party? because he can risk his own life and choose himself to live or die, but the less chance of other people facing that risk the better?

when the Talosians held Pike hostage, they warned him that “if you continue to disobey, from deeper in your mind, there are things even more unpleasant” - what did they mean by that? and is Discovery going to perhaps address some of that as they explore whatever major emotional challenges that Pike is suppose to come across? and will these challenges push Disco Pike ever closer to being like the TOS Pike we knew before? i mean, Disco Pike feels like a new man in many ways, and while i can believe that it’s natural growth in finding a healthy way to deal with his previous trauma and depression, i can’t help but wonder how much damage the war and being forced to stay out of it has done to that recovery process that he’s been on?

after all, 3 years really isn’t that long ago, especially if one of those three years was spent dealing with such a huge emotional set back - so is it a mask that he’s putting on? and if so, how long before it crumples? and how badly this might affect everything else?

#star trek discovery #star trek tos #christopher pike #captain pike #star trek discovery spoilers

110 notes · View notes

vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Text

I don’t remember where I heard/saw this? But Geoff knowing how to sew/making his own clothes = Geoff the tailor AU. (With a side of Battle Buddies.)

Because reasons.

Also because reasons, Ramwood.

But like.

Ryan coming into Geoff’s shop for a fitting because his BFF Jeremy is getting married.

Jeremy’s deliriously, sickeningly happy with his husband to be. Ryan’s all jokingly grumpy mcgrump about it because could they please, please, please not talk about how ~perfect your man is and how his eyes are like jewels, or sparkling orbs or whatever nonsense you’re spewing today?

We’re meant to be killing a Very Bad Man, Jeremy. Please focus.

But really, he’s just as happy for Jeremy and has totally ~secretly vetted Jeremy’s husband to be even though they work with him and he’s got top security clearance and it’s really Ryan being an overprotective dork. (I don’t know who Jeremy’s husband to be is in this - Gavin? Michael? Some other lucky/unlucky bastard. Possibly both, who knows.)

Someone gives Jeremy the card to Geoff’s little shop, tells him he’ll get a great discount for Jeremy and his groomsmen if they say the card giver sent them.

Jeremy was originally mean to go along wit Ryan to his fitting, but there was a last minute schedule change.

Which, fine, okay.

Plans change.

Ryan can do this!

He’s a highly skilled special ops/sekrit agent man!

Being fitted for a tux has got to be way easier than sneaking into another country to quietly (well, the mission briefing said quietly, reality turned out to far different) assassinate a druglord-turned-dictator, right?

...Maybe.

But then, okay.

Then he goes in and the shop is nothing like he was expecting.

Something along the lines of what you’d see in movies and on television, right? All classy decor and fancy as hell. Understated everything and the kind of place rich people love to go because Classy. (Kind of place his parents dragged him to as a kid for all kind of things and he wanted Jeremy along for moral support because ugh, memories.)

This place?

Nice decor, sure.

It’s just.

It’s not stuffy. (Not stuffy or pretentious like the places his parents dragged him to as a kid and it’s just an overall pleasant surprise.)

There’s music playing quietly, some band he’s never head of which isn’t a surprise, really. But! He gets the feeling even Jeremy would be hard-pressed to name them.

Potted plants and the lighting is just right to set him at ease. Not glaringly bright like a box store or too dark like certain stores in the mall. Framed posters on the wall - they seem classy enough at first glance, right? Tasteful frames and lovely artwork and all that.

But as he hits the little silver bell on the counter to alert the shop owner he’s there, he gets curious. Takes a closer look and laughs in surprise because the one behind the counter is a goddamned movie poster.

One of those vintage style ones for some classic movie, and the others around the shop are for other movies and bands and the like.

Little splashes of color and personality are dotted around the shop too, have him wondering what the hell kind of place this is, and then the shop owner walks out of the back.

Kind of looks like a crazy you’d run into the street, except for the nice suit and shoes and so on. (Maybe the hair is just some fancy hairstyle Ryan’s not cool enough to get. That whole deliberately messy look some people go wild over.)

The guy looks mildly annoyed not to see someone - Ryan’s wandered away from the counter, half-hidden by display mannequins as he examines the framed art hanging up. (And it is art, no matter what people like his parents would have to say about the subject matter.)

“Uh, hi?” Ryan says, sheepish about getting distracted as he goes over to where the shop owner is standing. “I had an appointment for a fitting today at two?”

The guy cocks his head as he gives Ryan this slow once-over.

“Haywood?” he asks, deep in thought.

Ryan nods, they do the whole handshake bit.

“For the Dooley wedding, yes.” A pause, as Ryan gets his brain into proper working order because the shop owner has the most vivid blue eyes. “Jack recommended your shop?”

At the mention of Jack’s name the shop owner’s lips twitch into this smirk.

“HE did, did he?” he asks, and something about it comes off as ominous.

“...Yes?” Ryan answers, not really sure what he’s in for here, and also wishing Jeremy was there.

As backup.

Against a tailor.

There’s a long pause, the shop owner regarding Ryan like he’s sizing him up, and then he laughs. Goes from suspicious to friendly and welcoming in the blink of an eye, smile on his face that looks like it could spell trouble if Ryan’s not careful. (Jeremy’s always saying he isn’t, so…)

“Well, any friend of Jack’s is a friend of mine,” the shop owner says.

That’s...okay. Good to know???

The guy introduces himself as Geoff, and leads Ryan to the back to the fitting area and they go about things as you do in a tailor’s shop. (I don’t know what goes on in one personally, but I imagine dark magics must be involved somehow???)

Anyway.

There’s idle chitchat that relaxes Ryan, has him not so uptight at being at a tailor’s on his own.

But that’s kind of worse in a way, because he’s noticing how the wild jumble of Geoff’s hair works for him, not to mention the beard.

Also, okay.

The tattoos are interesting, and Ryan keeps finding his attention drawn to the ones on Geoff’s hands.

Just.

Literally cannot stop himself from looking, feels himself blushing when Geoff catches him at it. This wry twist to his lips as he spins some story about ~youthful indiscretions and rebellion and whatever else about how he got them.

This pause, tension to his shoulders, set of his jaw that wasn’t there before.

“What about you? Have any tattoos?”

Ryan blinks, not sure what’s caused the guarded tone in Geoff’s voice.

“Uh, one,” he admits, a bit sheepishly.

He’s never really been someone who wanted tattoos of his own, but then he got partnered with Jeremy, and Ryan’s kind of an idiot.

(The two of them celebrating the fact that they somehow (miraculously!!1!) survived a particularly dangerous mission and Jeremy more than a little drunk when he came up with the idea of matching tattoos.

Sketched out a design for the “Battle Buddies” on a bar napkin and shoved it at Ryan who was impressed in spite of himself. A little messy because Jeremy and drunk and bar napkin?

But the basic design was something he could maybe live with as a tattoo.

Told Jeremy to wait until he wasn’t halfway to blackout drunk to pith the idea again, and thought that would be the last of it, you know. Idea lost to murky fog of alcohol and whatnot, but then Jeremy comes to him a week later, presents one of his sketchbooks with a proper drawing this time. Clean lines and bold design and Jeremy wheedling, so you know.

Tattoo.)

Geoff looks surprised at that admission, so Ryan tells him the whole story and Geoff’s laughing by the end of it because actually getting the damn thing was An Ordeal.

“Hey, c’mon,” Ryan says, something light in his chest at Geoff’s laugh – goddamn sunshine - and oh, oh, he’s headed for trouble here. “It’s not that awful, okay.”

But it kind of is, because assholes looking for revenge on the Battle Buddies from a previous mission and a good portion of the city in chaos and having to find a new tattoo artist. (Jeremy’s favorite guy being apologetic about it, but seriously Jeremy. There’s only so many times his insurance will cover the cost for repairs when it suddenly explodes, think of his premiums.)

Geoff loses that tight, pinched look to his face and this time when he catches Ryan staring at his hands he just waggles his eyebrows and makes terrible joke and it’s okay.

(Geoff also totally laughs when he catches a glimpse of Ryan’s tattoo at some point, and Ryan is like “Hey, now,” with this dumb little smile.)

And like.

Of course Ryan has to go back a few more time for additional fittings and Geoff is always delighted to see him.

Worries a bit when Ryan comes in looking like shit after a mission – all bruised and battered, even if he’s cleaned up. (“You should have seen the other guy, Geoff.”)

(Jeremy finally freeing up time to offer to go along with Ryan for one of them and Ryan telling him it’s not necessary and Jeremy being confused until he spots the tell-tale signs of Ryan with a big ol’ crush,and then it’s gentle teasing because it’s freaking adorable is what it is.)

And then!

Some situation in which baddies track the Battle Buddies down to their personal lives and Ryan terrified for Geoff, right? (They’re not a Thing, but the baddies know he’s been going to Geoff’s shop a lot – look, fittings, okay. Rough business. Or something, Whatever.)

Rushes to get there after fighting off some baddies who got to him at his place, and find -

“Uh...”

Geoff, standing over a body with a gun and this hard-eyed look to him.

Not the sassy, snarky motherfucker Ryan’s totally head over heels for who makes dumb jokes and gives Ryan this look until he laughs at him. This guy who listens to punk rock music and mocks Ryan for being a complete dork. Someone with an amazing laugh and just makes Ryan indescribably happy being around.

“Hey, give me a hand, there’s another one in the back.”

Ryan just ??? as he follows Geoff – glances down to look at the very dead baddie and is even more ??? - because what is going on???

Finds Geoff trying to move another very dead baddie because apparently there’s a hidden trap door or whatever that leads down to what looks like a bunker of some sort? Weapons locker and body armor and what the fuck is going on???

Geoff catching the dumbfounded look on Ryan’s face and sighing.

“Didn’t Jack tell you? We used to work together.”

Jack, as in the guy who basically runs the agency he and Jeremy work for. Quiet and competent and all these rumors about his old partner before the guy retired. Some bullshit about getting into a fight with Burnie over something and quitting over it.

(Rumors say there was more to it, conspiracies and Jack’s old partner working behind the scenes with Burnie and his people to expose it and deciding he'd had enough of the life when it as all over and done with even though Burnie offered to reinstate him and so on.

Just...didn’t like the lies and shit that went with it, and started up some little business of his own somewhere.

Kept in contact with Jack and Burnie, sent them tacky postcards when he went on vacation or Christmas Ryan would see in their offices every so often. Had a barbecue every one in a while for the old guard, that kind of thing.)

Ryan staring at Geoff as he gears up, clearly knows what he’s about as he does. Quick and efficient and Ryan finds himself staring at the tattoos on Geoff’s hands again, right.

Only this time there are guns and ammunition and knives in them instead of the tape measure or pins or the battered little notebook and pen he likes to use to mark down measurements.

(Ryan is a little embarrassed at how hot he finds it all, okay.)

Geoff catches him looking – of course he does – and the smirk he gives Ryan is all sharp and knowing and oh, fucking hell, has Ryan really been that obvious?

“Hey, you want to, I don’t know. Grab a fucking coffee or something when this is over?” Geoff asks, this slight edge of nervousness to his words that jolts Ryan out of mindlessly staring at him.

“I...uh,” Ryan is totally not panicking, no. “Yeah, sure?”

Winces at the way Geoff’s smile fades because Ryan is a disaster, but then there’s a crashing noise upstairs and more baddies to deal with.

Geoff scowling and muttering about just getting the place remodeled as he storms up the ladder, Ryan hurrying after him and oh what the fuck has he gotten himself into now???

Shenanigans as they fight off the baddies and meet up with Jeremy to figure things out and awkward flirting.

And then!

When everything’s over and done with, and Ryan and Geoff are in medical waiting to have their flesh wounds and the like treated -

“I - “ Ryan clears his throat when Geoff look up at him, ache in his chest at the slump to Geoff’s shoulders.

Because awkward flirting, sure, but also Ryan processing Things.

“There’s this place downtown that has great coffee,” he offers, sure Geoff’s going to turn him down. “If you want to go there sometime. With me. On a date.”

(Just to be clear, you know. Ryan would absolutely die if there was a misunderstanding now.)

Geoff blinks at him, and it’s got this sad panda effect with the soot smudges on his face and bits of dried mud and blood.

“What?”

(Okay, yes, there were a few explosions here and there and they may have been a wee bit too close to them. Temporary deafness and the like.)

Ryan laughs and tries again. Rips off a bit of the paper on the examining table-thing and writes it down before balling it up and throwing it to Geoff. (His knee’s a little messed up, makes it hard to walk. Because reasons.)

Geoff sputter and shooting him a glare before he opens the crumples paper ball up and then he just...stares at it for a long, long moment.

Nothing giving away what he’s thinking and Ryan dying inside because his knee, okay. Makes it real fucking hard for him to run away to find a corner to die of embarrassment in if he got things wrong? (Really, unbelievably wrong?)

And then Geoff looks up, crooked little grin/smirk on his face.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he says, and then because he has to know Ryan has no idea what that even means in relation to anything. “Yes, you idiot. I’d love to get coffee. With you. As a date.”

Ryan blushing like a moron as Geoff laughs at him, and that’s about the time the doctor gets there and yells at Ryan for being an idiot and Geoff, Geoff, you should fucking know better you asshole.

Jack laughs at Ryan for forever about falling in love with Geoff, because oh, Ryan, you poor bastard. (But also Shovel Talks him, so there’s that.)

Jeremy laughs himself sick when he realizes why Ryan insisted he could handle his fitting appointments on his own, but thanks, buddy! (There are, of course, dirty jokes about it always.)

Geoff is just amazed at how dumb Ryan is, because oh my God, man. Seriously? (Look. Ryan’s smart, but also real dumb.)

Also, they do get that coffee and Geoff is Ryan’s date to Jeremy’s wedding.

...And then a few years down the road when Ryan and Geoff decide they might as well fuckin’ get married they go on a Quest to find a suitable tailor. (Geoff insists he shouldn’t have to do it because it’s his own fucking wedding, what the hell are you on about, Ryan?)

#ramwood #ragehappy #battle buddies #tailor au #idek #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#technically not a fic #vagrant fic

40 notes · View notes

writermich18 · 5 years

Text

Good Omens Writing Prompt: AU Meets Canon

"Our Michael is a pyromaniac."

All conversations stop. The Canon characters - including Lucifer in human form - turn to stare incredulously at their AU counterparts.

"What." Canon Michael deadpans.

"It's true." AU Michael easily shrugs about it. Her voice was calm, rough, and low with a slight high undertone similar to AU Lucifer's own tenor voice. This Michael had wild, neck length red hair with it framing and mostly moving to the left. Any way you looked at it from any direction, it still looks as if it was constantly on fire. Sharp, but open and mischievous amber orange eyes with a red pupil. Darkly tanned skin marred with white, sometimes pink, scars. A prothestic left arm. Pointy ears with small blue hoop earrings (the same kind worn by BOTW Link and the same type of ears as Hylians). All of the AU Angels had those pointy ears and a different colored pupil other than black. The AU Demons all had round ears and black pupils. Baby cheeks but roughed by the weather and the streets, rough but circular jawline. Short nose. AU Michael was wearing an undershirt black sleeveless training turtleneck, a dark red and white tunic over that with Enochian and Celtic designs dancing on the hems and collar. Chest armor with one shoulder pad, armguards and fingerless black gloves with a metal plate on top of which the Army symbol was carved on. Dark blue leggings, armored skirt, shin guards, and black shinobi sandals. A tanto was strapped horizontally to her waist with a belt. Said belt had an assortment of other pouches and supplies attached to it. She had on a dark orange cloak with many Enochian and Celtic designs sewn on the back, hem, and collar. Dark red rope at the neck connected the two ends.

"I tend to blow shit up. Lucifer-nī tended to scold me for it," she remembers with a fond smile. "He still does, too." She adds.

"Because you keep shit up in Hell! It's already chaotic enough, stop adding to it!" AU Lucifer practically yells at her from his spot next to Canon Lucifer. Though his yell was more like a slightly louder normal voice. His voice was a smooth, tenor's voice with a rough low undertone similar to AU Michael's. There was a ghost of a tempting voice hidden somewhere in it. Long nose but it looked like it had been broken and reset a couple of times, most likely by Michael and then reset by a medic. AU Lucifer had just as wild hair as Michael but it was more in the way of stylishly curly mess than Michael's wild lioness mane of hair. It fell to his chest, unfairly stylishly, and dirty blond yet somehow shining in the natural light as if it was the fucking sun itself. High cheekbones, smooth jawline, but you could just tell that he was harsh to the touch at a closer look. Sharp, closed off silver eyes with a slit black pupil that still shined with its own inner light. Peach, pale skin. Round ears without a piercing. He wore a black high collar button up with a white silk tie and a black blazer with white lined hem and collar, white trousers, and black dress shoes. He looked put together but like he could easily destroy your life without a word.

"It just needs a little more fire, lighten the place up a bit."

"Says the soldier!" AU Luci sarcastically retorts.

"They're gonna be at this for the entire day so..." AU Uriel mutters. AU Uriel has a medium leveled voice, not high nor low pitched, it wasn't rough nor smooth. It had an emotional undertone, as in you could hear their emotions even when they were supposedly emotionless - comes with being the Archangel of the Arts (and yes, the Arts as in any type of art including philosophy), I guess. They were dark brown skinned person-being. Short, cropped black hair with some braided tiny buns burling along their head. Multi-colored eyes and pupil for the Arts is the element she maintains and is multicolored for its many aspects. Pointy ears with stud Anime character earrings (fan art is art) and multiple other ear piercings, and one lip piercing on the right side of their lips. Extravagant, cosplay style makeup painted their face into a beautiful canvas. They wore a high school's music shirt, with blue overalls - the overalls were painted on like a canvas as well - over the shirt, a utility belt filled to the brim with different artifacts all supplies from the different artistic areas. Old and worn galaxy styled sneakers finished their look.

"Stop it." Another voice pits in. AU Michael and Lucifer stop immediately and sulk as they refused to look at each other. Canon Aziraphale stared at his AU counterpart, the one who said stop it, as he has been since meeting her.

AU Aziraphale who apparently prefers to go by Ezra when she's on Earth doing her job. She, unlike him, was raised as a soldier practically her whole life. She never stopped training even when she was being Heaven's Earth agent. So she had muscles where he did not. He was chubby from eating while she was "chubby" from training and growing muscles - not really "traditional" chubby, chubby like a rolling torso and muscles. Not a bad thing but differently not something he's seen on his own body since becoming Heaven's Earth agent. Unlike him, she had a wild mane of white - white, not light blond - hair set up like AU Michael's with a slight difference in volume. Darkly tanned skin with scars and calloused hands and feet. Bare foot, dirty from walking on the ground. A nomad, she said she was. Didn't tend to stay in one place. Got antsy if she tried, like an enemy was going to pop in and kill her in her sleep because she's kept a predictable schedule. Sharp but almond shaped and kind amber orange eyes, red pupils like AU Michael's. Her Michael's adopted blood daughter, did the blood ritual to make it official for the papers. That explains the the fire colored streaks briefly seen flickering around and in her hair like actual embers, Canon Aziraphale thought faintly. She wore the same hoop earrings as Michael. Pointy ears. Baby cheeks but roughed by the weather and the streets. Ezra wore a black turtleneck like Michael, over which she wore a dirty blue button up with brown chest armor and a red wrongly tied tie. The sleeves were ripped up and turned into a short sleeve. She wore fingerless gloves with the metal plate that has Heaven't symbol on it. Wrapped around her waist was a plaid blue-and-black shirt under which was a utility belt with a assortment of book recovering supplies, a first aid kit pouch, and weapon pouches with another pouch, probably filled with more weapons, tied around her left thigh. Ruined at the hem, and torn dark blue pants covered her legs with multiple pieces of bandages and rough signs of frantic sewing on the pants. Her nails were somehow manicured, with only a few nails being mildly bitten. A nervous habit. She also apparently has a smaller version of Michael's pyromaniac tendencies - not a lot but enough to where even her superiors except her mother and Mother was afraid of pissing her off.

The rest of the Canon characters were also slightly unnerved and or intrigued by their respective counterparts.

Canon Adam was actually jealous of his counterpart because though he had an older sister, he didn't have a twin sister. Said AU Adam's twin sister was apparently essence adopted by AU Michael - meaning while her earthbound body made her the Young Family's daughter, her adopted-by-an-angel-and-ritually-claimed-as-Michael's-child soul, her essence, made her essentially Michael's daughter, meaning she got the benefits and consequences of being Michael's daughter. Which means AU Adam is not alone in the Child of an Angel department. Not only does he have a big sister in the form of AU Aziraphale - being Michael's angelic adopted daughter, related to AU Adsm through siblings Lucifer and Michael - but also a twin sister, related to AU Adam by 2 ways: sibling relation thus cousin relation for their children, and siblings through the Young Family, relations through earthbound body.

This situation they've all found themselves in will either end in hilarity or tragedy. All of them, except for the Chaos Trio (AU Michael, AU Lucifer, and AU Aziraphale), prayed for it to end in hilarity because another tragedy did not need to happen right now.

Ezra was just hoping for the Canon counterparts (and some of the AU counterparts) to never learn of the circumstances which caused her world's Michael to take her under her wings (literally and figuratively) and adopt her. That was a scarred past that should be buried and forgotten. Though she did want some chaos to happen.

AU Michael was also crossing her fingers and hoping people never found out about her ostracized and broken past which helped push her to help two damaged but not broken children. That was a wound too deep to heal without breaking someone else. Though she did want some chaos.

Lucifer just wanted chaos so that he could finally take that 32 hour long nap he's been meaning to take.

#good omens #writing prompt #au meets canon #aziraphale #michael (good omens)#lucifer (good omens)#adam young #siblings #adoption #long post #sorry i'm on mobile unfortunately

4 notes · View notes