#but also he's a cop and she's fully aware of how her dad would react. then his warm smile to reassure her. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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Best That You Can Do Chapter 1: The Big Mistake

Mike Dodds x Original Female Character Because dammit Mike’s not dead.

Look, Mike loves his dad, OK? He does. They get along great, even when Mike’s dad is being extra. Mike knows he’s lucky to be Chief Dodds’s son, and he is perfectly aware that he’s benefitted from that. He doubts he’d be a Sergeant this young if it wasn’t for that connection. Hell, he’s not above using that connection himself when it suits him. So he good-naturedly puts up with his dad’s embarrassing bragging about him, and he gives his dad’s opinions serious consideration. Because Mike knows his dad absolutely and completely has his back, and only wants good things for him. It’s just… what Dad thinks is good and what Mike thinks is good aren’t always the same thing.

William knows that. It’s why he’s always tried to listen when Mike says no. But this time, he knows he’s right. Kaitlyn is perfect for Mike. Women are one area in which Mike’s never listened to him – first he was too embarrassed and awkward around girls to do anything when William would point out a girl who had a crush on him, then when he was older, he had his own (incomprehensible) ideas about what he wanted. But this time, William’s not taking no for an answer. He can’t. Because he knows he’s right.

Kaitlyn Myers is a member of Chief Dodds’ staff, an up-and-comer if he ever saw one. She’s the daughter of two cops, sister of three, and granddaughter of two – one on each side. Kaitlyn has the NYPD in her blood, and she’s fiercely protective of anyone who wears a badge. So much so, in fact, that she and Dodds have gone toe-to-toe more than once when she thought he was doing something that put cops at unwarranted risk. But only behind closed doors. Anywhere else, she is unwavering in her support and, whatever he decides, she stops at nothing to make it happen. Her loyalty is unshakable.

All of which makes her indispensable to William Dodds, and it’s been like that for three years now. She’s also a looker – William thinks it’s still OK to call women that – with the lean, athletic build he knows Mike likes.

Mike’s been hearing about Kaitlyn for a long time, but they’d never met until a couple of weeks ago. And when they did, William saw instantly what he really should’ve seen before: they were perfect for each other. So he’s going to do what he should’ve done a long time ago. He’s going to set them up.

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

Two Weeks Earlier:

Mike’s tired and he’s cranky. He’s really looking forward to getting to Alonso’s, the steak house he and his dad have been going to every other Thursday for years. It’s dimly lit and full of deep green upholstery and dark wood, they have every possible kind of whiskey, and the steaks are huge and perfect. It’s basically a man’s paradise, Mike thinks, and he loves these dinners. He really needs this. It’s been a shit week.

He swings in the door and greets Eleanor, Chief Dodds’ secretary, who beams at him as if he’s her own son. He points toward the office door in mute question.

“He’s in a meeting, but he said to go on in,” she says. Eleanor is about a million years old, but Mike loves her because a.) she takes great care of his dad, and b.) when it comes to a choice – and it has – she’s on Mike’s side one hundred percent of the time. He thinks she might have a crush on him, and he knows he has one on her.

Mike opens the door, knocking as he does, and is confronted by the best ass he’s seen in a year. At least. There’s a brunette in a pencil skirt standing on Mike’s side of his dad’s desk, leaning over to show the Chief something and giving Mike a spectacular view. She stands as he enters, and he sees that she’s pretty, with big, brown eyes and lush, pink lips that immediately spark his imagination.

“Mike! Come in, Son,” William says gaily, standing up with a smile like he’s pleasantly surprised. Which is weird, considering they planned to meet here, now, and Eleanor said he was waiting for him.

“You’ve met Kaitlyn, haven’t you?” William asks.

Mike reflexively holds out a hand. When she smiles at him, he can feel it. Her hair is in some kind of updo, but it’s late in the day and some of it is escaping in a way that feeds the dirty turn his imagination’s already taken. This is the Kaitlyn his dad’s been going on and on about? Somehow he’d imagined her… differently.

“No, we haven’t met,” Kaitlyn says, smiling and looking into his eyes, her voice lower and sexier than he’d expected. “But I feel like we have. He talks nonstop about you.”

Mike notices how small her hand feels in his as they shake. “Then we’re even,” he says, smiling in a way he hopes isn’t as much of a leer as he fears it is. “When he’s with me, he talks nonstop about you.”

He doesn’t want to let go of her hand, and damn if it doesn’t seem like maybe she holds on a shade longer than necessary, too.

“Listen, Son, I have to call the Mayor. Can you give me ten minutes? Kait, you can keep him company, can’t you? Give him a drink of that Dalmore we’re not supposed to have in the office.”

His dad actually winks when he says that. Dork. But Mike only has a second to notice that, because his dad tosses Kaitlyn a small key from his desk drawer and then she’s motioning him out the door. Mike follows her ass across the lobby to a small conference room, completely oblivious to Eleanor’s smirk at how obvious he is about it.

In the conference room, Kaitlyn uses the little key to open a highly polished walnut cabinet and takes out a half-empty bottle of scotch, setting it on the oval table that takes up most of the room. Picking up two glasses from a shelf in the cabinet, she sets them next to the bottle. “Why don’t you pour?”

“Sure,” Mike shrugs, hoping he looks nonchalant. “None for Dad?”

“Dad doesn’t need one. Dad’s talking to the Mayor. That’s his drug of choice.”

Mike feels a very pleasant flutter down low in his stomach at the mischievous look on her face, and the way she smiles at him. He means to pour only a finger for each of them, but he’s suddenly a little clumsy. He hands her one of the glasses and he’s almost certain she purposely touches his fingers more than necessary as he does.

“L’chaim,” he says, lifting his glass up briefly.

“L’chaim,” Kaitlyn responds, mirroring his action.

Mike knows how much Dalmore costs, which is why he’s never had it before. It’s fucking fantastic.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, before he has a chance to think better of it.

“I know, right?” Kaitlyn’s eyes sparkle. “This is only the second time I’ve had this. I’m actually surprised he’s letting us be alone with the bottle.”

She moves to sit in one of the chairs, and he takes the one next to her. He can feel the scotch warming his insides as he takes another sip. He’s probably imagining it, but already he thinks he can feel the cares of the week receding. He’s not imagining that his leg is touching Kaitlyn’s, and neither of them are moving away.

“So you’re Mike. You look like him. I’m sitting here putting a face to all the exploits he’s told me about. You were Special Forces, right?”

“A million years ago,” he says. “And you’re a lawyer.”

“Don’t hold it against me. I’m nice. I promise.”

Well, shit. Now he’s starting to get hard. Just like that. “I believe you,” he says, surprised at the gravelly sound of his own voice.

She smiles and they take another sip. She is absolutely flirting. She hasn’t looked away from his eyes since they sat down.

“He didn’t tell me you were beautiful.” Mike’s shocked that he said that out loud, but not even a little bit sorry, because her reaction is absolutely worth it.

“He did tell me you were,” she says, and she’s basically purring. “But I already knew that. He has pictures of you in his office.”

Mike gives a little embarrassed huff at that, but he leans toward her and puts an elbow on the table.

“What’s he like to work for?”

“He’s… ambitious. Hardworking. Wants to do the right thing, but also wants to be seen to do the right thing, which isn’t always easy.” She shrugs. “Mostly he gets it right.”

“You like him.”

“I do. I don’t always agree with him, but I believe in him. He’s taught me a lot.”

Another short silence as they sip. Damn, this is good stuff, Mike thinks.

“What’s it like to be his son?”

Mike laughs a little at that, sitting back and stretching out his legs, which happens to have the effect of putting more of him in contact with more of her. “Depends on the day.” He shrugs in obvious imitation of her. “Mostly he gets it right.”

They share a warm, delighted smile at that, and Kaitlyn’s frankly approving look causes Mike’s brain to short-circuit a little. Just enough that he says, “I see why he likes you.”

She just smiles softly at him. Damn, he thinks. His cock is fully awake now, and he’s going to have to watch it or it’s going to be noticeable when he has to walk out of here.

They finish their drinks just as they hear the Chief call Mike’s name from his office.

“Time to go,” Mike says regretfully, and stands. “Thanks for the drink.” He hesitates just a second. “I’d like to do it again, when we have more time. Maybe without Dad.” He barely restrains his urge to wink.

“I’d like that,” Kaitlyn answers, a frank promise in her eyes. Suddenly, she reaches to the center of the table and picks up a small pad of sticky notes and a pen. She quickly scribbles on the pad, tears off the top note, and holds it out. He can see she’s written her phone number on it.

“Text me your number. I’ll text you my address. Come by after your dinner.” She leans in as she hands it to him. “Maybe without Dad.” She does wink.

Holy fuck. Mike knows that if she looks, she’s going to be able to see the effect that has on him.

He texts Kaitlyn in the cab on the way to the restaurant and, true to her word, she texts her address. “See you soon,” she says, and Mike reacts as though she’d written something explicit. Mike enjoys his dinner with his dad as much as he’d expected, but he’s a little preoccupied. When his dad says he has to get home, Mike feels a little guilty for being relieved.

Kaitlyn’s apartment is in an old building which was once a tenement, before the neighborhood was gentrified. He likes it. It’s clear the apartments are tiny, but it’s a solid building, and they’ve done a nice job keeping the old-fashioned features while getting rid of the squalor. When he knocks on her door, he wonders what she’ll be wearing. His imagination, which is getting quite a workout tonight, conjures up all kinds of possibilities.

She looks spectacular. Mike thinks his mouth might even be hanging open a little. She’s wearing some kind of silky, pink lounging pants and a simple, white cotton top. She’s barefoot, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. Her hair’s no longer in its prim work style; now it’s down, and it’s softly curly and even darker than it had looked earlier. She smiles happily – and a little playfully, he thinks – and steps back to let him in. Her apartment’s a railroad flat with the living room just inside the door, but she stays in the hall and asks if she can take his coat. All he’s wearing is his suit coat – it’s September, after all – but he likes the idea of taking it off, so he does. She hangs it on one of several hooks on the wall behind the door, and that’s the end of the pleasantries.

He reaches for her at the same time she reaches for him. She giggles just a little as she puts her arms around his neck, melting into him as he wraps one arm around her waist and one across her back with his hand at her neck. She also kisses him back as enthusiastically as he’s kissing her. It’s insanely hot to be in her apartment with her in his arms when they’ve said only a handful of sentences to one another. For some reason, though, he’s also smiling as he kisses her. He doesn’t know what that’s about, but she’s loosening his tie so he forgets to think about it.

When she starts on the buttons of his shirt, he stops trying to hold his lower body away from her so she won’t feel how hard he is already. Hell, he was half hard when he knocked on her door. But now that he knows they’re on the same page, he uses the arm that’s around her waist to pull her hips to his. She doesn’t bother unbuttoning his shirt all the way down, only far enough so that she can pull it off over his head. When she does, he reaches down and gets a hold of her so he can lift her up. She immediately wraps her legs around him and mumbles, “Second door,” around his tongue.

When he’s laid her on the bed and kicked off his shoes, he lays down and shifts around until he’s next to her with one arm under her neck and the other across her waist. “You know what I do for a living.”

She looks slightly confused, with an adorable little wrinkle between her eyebrows. “Yeah…?”

“Got kind of a thing about consent these days. Hazard of the job.” He kisses her and she puts her arms around him, but he holds back to whisper, “I need to be sure this is what you want.”

She actually throws her head back and laughs. “Holy shit, Mike, I don’t know how to consent any harder.”

Now he laughs, too. “I thought so, but…”

“I’m sorry,” Kaitlyn says, making an obvious effort to be more serious. She looks into his eyes. In the gloom of her bedroom, lit only by whatever lights are on in the living room, her eyes look huge. How could he have thought she was just pretty earlier? She’s fucking gorgeous. “You’re right. I appreciate you looking out for me. And I want to look out for you, too.” She runs her fingers through his hair once, then leaves them there. “I want you. I want this.”

“I do, too.”

“I want to take off the rest of your clothes. And I want you to take mine off, too.”

He realizes she’s teasing him a little, but her expression and the way she’s breathing tell him there’s more than that going on. “And then I want to touch you all over, and I want to kiss you everywhere. After that, I want you to fuck me. Slow, and for a long time. How’s that for consent?”

Mike clears his throat, not entirely confident he’s capable of speech any longer. “That’s some pretty fucking good consenting right there.”

“Thanks.” She starts to work on his belt.

“There’s some consenting I’d like to do, too.”

“Tell me.” She stops with his belt half-unbuckled. He has her full attention.

“After I get you naked, I want to run my hands all over your body, and then I want to taste you. I want to lick you open, and fuck you with my tongue. I want to listen to the sounds you’ll make, and then I want to watch you come.”

“Oh, shit. I consent,” Kaitlyn gasps. “Where do I sign?”

“We’ll take care of the paperwork later,” Mike chuckles, and takes control of Kaitlyn’s mouth.

She tastes like fresh toothpaste, like she’s just brushed her teeth, and he thinks she might have done it when he texted that he was five minutes away. Something about the idea of her brushing her teeth in preparation for kissing him is sexy as all hell. He wonders if she worried about her outfit like women tend to do. If she did, she got it absolutely right. Mostly because it’s really easy to take off. And although she is technically wearing a bra, it’s a lacy slip of nothing and he can see her nipples through it. The thought of her choosing to wear that for him makes him have to stop rubbing against her for a minute so he doesn’t come within the first ten minutes of being in her apartment.

She’s trying to get his pants off, but he’s chuckling as he blocks her, trying to get her clothes off first. She’s laughing and being a very good sport about it, which he likes. A lot. And once he gets her naked, and sees her body in the half-light, he pulls her close and kisses her deeply for a long time, because holy flyin’ balls of shit. He’s gonna need to keep his pants on for a bit longer because, once again, he’s in danger of coming too soon.

Not to be denied, she slips her hand inside his open fly – she’s gotten that far – and starts to stroke him. Her slight gasp when she feels his cock is really flattering. He grits his teeth to try to maintain some control as he enjoys the living hell out of what she’s doing with her hand. She’s multitasking, too, because although he’s completely unable to keep focusing on kissing, there’s something magical about the crazy-slow way she’s moving her lips against his, and that thing she’s doing with her tongue…

“Kaitlyn…”

“Everything OK?” She stops everything she’s doing, but doesn’t move away.

“Yeah,” he pants. “I just… you’re…” He scrunches up his face and gives a couple laughs. “I need a minute to, um, gather my thoughts.”

She smiles sweetly and takes her hand away, but stays right where she is, with her lips so close to his he can feel her breath and smell her toothpaste. “Thanks?”

“Yeah. Definitely a compliment.”

Kaitlyn lifts up on her elbow and rests her head on her hand, pushing slightly at Mike so he gets the idea she wants him to roll onto his back. He does, and she starts to stroke his arms and chest, her face clearly showing that she’s impressed.

“Mike…” She breathes. “You are… I mean, are you real? Are you kidding me with this body of yours?”

He wears a pleased grin over the next several minutes as she uses her hands and her mouth to appreciate his chest, shoulders, arms, and then rolls onto him and begins with breathy kisses on his neck. He groans and uses his hands on her hips to move her against him.

“You ready for me to take these pants off you?”

“Hell, yes…”

She wastes no time getting him the rest of the way naked, then crawls sinuously up his body, pushing his legs apart as she moves between them.

“Oh, no,” Mike says, sitting up enough to put his huge hands on her upper arms and slide her up his body. “I didn’t consent to that.”

“What?” Kaitlyn’s obviously stunned.

Although she’s several inches shorter than Mike and he’s twice her size, Kaitlyn’s not small. Still, he has no trouble flipping them over until he’s suddenly on top of her, kissing her with a carnal laugh. “I’m the one who said I wanted to taste you.”

Kaitlyn, relieved, relaxes again and kisses him back. “Shit…” she gasps as he uses his legs to move hers apart.

She’s not touching his dick anymore, which helps, but she is making noises so erotic he thinks he still might come too soon. And when he kisses his way down to her breasts and starts nuzzling a nipple, she puts her arms over her head, abandoning herself to him, which is so damn hot he’s pretty sure he’s whimpering. He can’t be sure, though, because he’s way too focused on her.

He loses track of time while he’s stroking and licking her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips and his tongue until they’re as hard as his cock and she’s doing her own whimpering. But it must have been quite a while, because he realizes she’s rocking her pelvis against him in a way that’s starting to feel demanding. Being the gentleman he is, Mike doesn’t keep his lady waiting. He kisses down her abdomen until he’s scooted down low enough to hook her thighs over his shoulders and nestle between them.

She’s dripping wet and moving against his mouth as soon as he begins to explore her. “Aww, Kaitlyn, you taste so fucking good…” he murmurs between strokes with his tongue. She’s moaning and he can hear how hard she’s breathing between short, whispered exclamations. Which only intensifies as he begins to thrust his tongue into her, using a couple of fingers to softly, slowly spread some of her slick onto her puckered hole.

“Mike… Mike… now… I wanna come-“

Remember the part about how Mike’s a gentleman? He uses two fingers of his other hand to replace his tongue, and begins to circle the hard nub of her clit, paying attention to her to let him know how much pressure she likes. He doesn’t need to worry about that, though, because she rubs against him, controlling the pressure herself. He slides his fingers in and out, adding one in her other hole as he feels and hears her start to come apart. He’d guessed that she’d be loud, and he’d been right. Her cries, curses and filth interspersed with his name, and gasps of pleasure are even better than he’d hoped.

When she’s been reduced to a quivering, whining mess, he feels her pull at his shoulders, and he’s more than ready to oblige. He’s a little relieved he’s managed to hold off this long, but he knows when he gets inside her, he’s not going to last. He quickly moves up to take her in his arms.

“I gotta get-“ he gasps between kisses.

Kaitlyn reaches out an arm toward the bedside table at her left, but she can’t quite reach. “Top drawer,” she whispers shakily.

Mike’s arms are much longer, and he has no trouble reaching the drawer and taking out the fresh pack of condoms. “My kind of girl,” he chuckles deeply as he goes back to kissing her while he fumbles the box open.

“I stopped at the store on my way home,” Kaitlyn says between kisses.

“You just assumed I was this easy?”

“I hoped,” she giggles.

He has to take a little time entering her, even as wet as she is.

“Unh…” she grunts happily, using her heels against his back to adjust their positions so she can take all of him.

“You OK?”

“I will be. Oh, I will be…”

Once he’s inside her and starts moving, she decides he’s not close enough to coming on the first stroke and starts talking dirty to him, as if she knows how much he loves that.

“Oh, you should come with a fucking warning label… Shit, Mike… Oh, my- Fuck! Mike, your cock is… magnificent… Yes! You feel so fucking good…”

And, with that, she starts to come again, and he’s gone. He’s pretty sure they can hear him shouting three blocks away as he comes as hard as he ever has in his life. Later, when his neurons begin firing again, he’s going to be a little embarrassed at how quickly he comes, but then, she started it. It may not have taken any time to get there, but Mike’s orgasm feels like it lasts forever. When it’s over, he rolls them over a little so that he’s not crushing Kaitlyn, but that’s the best he can do for a minute. As soon as he catches his breath a little, he deals with the condom in a little trash can he noticed next to her bed, and then he’s done. He pulls her into his arms with a luxurious sigh and goes into a hormone- and endorphin-addled trance.

Kaitlyn’s not quite so languid, although she came twice. She squirms around a little bit, until she’s facing him with one of his legs between hers. He feels her stroking a hand over his shoulder and upper arm, and cracks an eye open to look at her. She grins at him. “Doze if you want. I’ll just be over here fondling you, because damn. You can’t expect me to just ignore guns like these.”

Mike chuckles quietly and murmurs, “Fondle away.”

He actually sleeps for a little bit. When he wakes up, he’s blissfully surprised to find that Kaitlyn’s real, and she’s naked in his arms, and she’s smiling lazily at him. He can’t help but smile back, although he can only imagine what a mess he is right now. Kaitlyn, however, looks freshly fucked in the best possible way, her hair a little wild, her lips a little puffy from kissing, and her eyes heavy-lidded with sleepy satisfaction.

“You’re beautiful,” Mike murmurs, hearing the words before he’s had a chance to even process the thought.

“Right back atcha.”

“You want me to go?”

“I want you to stay. Will you?”

“Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

It’s the next morning that it happens. Mike’s phone starts ringing at a ridiculous hour, especially considering that he and Kaitlyn woke each other up twice to make love again. The phone is somewhere on the floor, in the pocket of Mike’s pants, and neither of them want to move from the warm, comfortable knot they’re in. But it keeps ringing. As soon as it stops, it starts again.

“That trouble?” Kaitlyn asks, her voice a cute, scratchy groan.

“Could be. I’m trying to remember how to move.”

“Sorry. Can’t help you.”

“You’re going to need to get off of me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Mike’s quiet laugh is regretful as he lifts Kaitlyn and sets her softly down next to him, then scoots to the edge of the bed. He stands up, looking around for a moment before he sees his pants. He slides the phone out of the pocket as it starts ringing again, and swears surprisingly viciously when he sees the name on the screen. He swipes down to decline the call and tosses the phone onto the deep reading chair in one corner of Kaitlyn’s bedroom. He reaches down for his pants and sighs as he puts them on, then picks up his phone again.

“Everything OK?” Kaitlyn’s eyes are all the way open now.

“Yeah. But I’m afraid I gotta go.”

“Who was that?”

“My-“ Mike bites back the word he was about to say.

“Your…?”

“Nothing.” Mike goes to the side of the bed and sits down next to Kaitlyn, putting an arm across her and grinning sheepishly down at her. “I had a really, really good time.”

“Me, too,” Kaitlyn smiles. “And just think. We haven’t even known each other twenty-four hours.”

“Just over twelve, actually,” Mike grins again and scratches his head. “I’m so ashamed.”

“Me, too. When can I see you again?”

“Another twelve hours?”

Kaitlyn’s about to enthusiastically agree, but Mike’s phone rings again. He’s holding it in his hand, and he can tell the moment Kaitlyn sees the screen. It’s a picture of Mike and a cute woman with short, reddish-blonde hair, and they’re kissing while looking at the camera. The name Susan is written in large letters across the top of the screen. Mike feels Kaitlyn freeze. He swipes his thumb down the screen, but not nearly quickly enough.

She doesn’t say anything. Just looks at him. But he can see the dawning hurt and anger in her eyes.

“Sorry about that.”

Kaitlyn’s voice is unemotional. Way too unemotional. “When I asked who it was, you said ‘my’, but you didn’t finish. I’m guessing the next word was going to be ‘girlfriend’?”

“It’s… complicated,” he sputters, sounding lame as fuck, even to himself.

“Not to me. Let yourself out, would you? I’ve got time for another hour of sleep.”

She rolls away from him and pulls the covers up around her neck.

“Kaitlyn-“

“Bye, Mike. Nice to meet you.”

For a minute, he thinks about trying to explain. But he really can’t. Fucking Susan. He really should have had the balls to just end it. Well, he’s sure as shit going to end it now. Not that it will make any difference to Kaitlyn, who he’s sure is lying there thinking all kinds of nasty, shitty, true things about him.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters as he stands up to look for his shoes and the rest of his clothes.

He feels like absolute crap as he lets himself out of Kaitlyn’s apartment.

#Law & Order SVU #law & order: special victims unit #Mike Dodds #Andy Karl #Chief WIlliam Dodds #Peter Gallagher #Mike's not fucking dead because I say so #He can't be dead if he was dead how could he be having slutty smutty sex

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lumilasi · 5 years

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Random oc facts (updated)

Because I’m bored

and because lot of stuff in this was now inaccurate after having been using my characters more in my stories, so I wanted to update this.

(Well, to be fair, Wasabi, Reidou and Rankure haven’t appeared in any, tho Wasabi might)

Kain

- his health slowly gets better over the years, so as an adult he suffers less from complications such as vertigo, migraines, nausea, etc. His vision however ends up getting impaired hence he wears glasses.

- He does regain a little bit of emotional range overtime, and initially it is actually dangerous, because he can’t quite handle it. Namely, he can’t handle anger which tends to be the first emotion coming through. Him getting angry can cause his quirk to go out of control and even harm allies.

- He’s not really available for dating due to being Aro/Ace, but he’d take advantage of someone crushing on him probably, if it could lead to something interesting/help him with whatever he is doing at the time.

- His relationship with Ryuu is difficult to describe; it’s not romantic by any means, but there is a very strong companionship bond between the two that has pretty much majority of the elements romantic relationships have, except the whole romance and intimacy part.

- That being said Kain is definitely the boss of their relationship, and he tends to be a bit “parenty”/mentoring towards Ryuu, rather than viewing him as his equal. He does always take Ryuu’s thoughts and feelings into accordance, but mostly is the one making decisions.

- Kain has a bit of a fixation on keeping promises, to the point he has a compulsory need to fulfill them. As a result, he tries to be very careful when speaking and wording things, to make sure he can leave himself some leeway. When his emotions start to creep back however, he tends to be less careful about it which can be taken advantage of by someone.

- When it comes to the other three, Kain has respect for Reidou due to her babysitting him/trying to help him as a child before she was forced away. He finds Wasabi amusing and is fond of the kid (not as much as Ryuu) and is mostly neutral/disinterested in Rankure.

Ryuu

- Ryuu initially found Wasabi really annoying, but grew pretty fond of the kid quickly and is nowadays almost as protective over him as he’s over Kain

- Ryuu is pretty dumb and not a tactician by any means, he more follows his instincts or Kain’s instructions. He has near unshakable trust towards Kain, and looks up to him a lot due to how smart he is, and how calm he can stay in tough situations - both traits Ryuu secretly wishes he had.

- Ryuu doesn’t usually recognize if someone flirts with him, he’s bit of an airhead in that department. If he does find out someone has a crush on him, he usually doesn’t know how to react, mostly questioning the person’s taste. While he has a very close bond with Kain, he’s never felt any physical or romantic attraction towards him per say. For Ryuu, Kain is his family that accepts him for who he is, it’s as simple as that.

- he mostly comes off as brash, reckless and wild bastard who doesn’t give a shit, but that’s not entirely true; when he worries over somebody, Ryuu tends to calm down remarkably and hold back a lot if the situation needs it. Some people who’ve only ever seen his “villain” face would probably not recognize him when he’s being genuinely concerned over somebody.

- He has a wacky horrible taste in fashion, and if he could he’d wear the most random colorful shit he could get his hands on. Mainly because of the tight dress code in the orphanage he grew up in, it’s another form of “Fuck you” to the people who ran it.

Wasabi

- Often wants to go on a dimensional trip with Kain and Ryuu, his mums usually won’t let him for a good reason

- He was pretty much home-schooled as Rankure couldn’t really bring him to any school initially due to the gang-trouble she was having, and later with Kei they figured his current mind-set would not necessarily be able to handle the setting and could result in him getting hurt, or other kids getting hurt.

- Wasabi almost always carries around a stick or so as a weapon, and he gets really upset if it breaks, sulking over it four hours, or until he finds a better stick.

- Adult Wasabi’s fighting style resembles Ryuu’s a lot with how fast his reflexes are and how much it involves kicking. He’s a bit smarter than Ryuu though, able to think more tactically, though not to the same extent as Kain.

Rankure

- She tends to still visit her brother Higure’s grave every now and then, though she has to disguise herself when going to the city given her criminal record and the fact some people still have beef with her

- Rankure tends to always jump and perch up to somewhere high if Ryuu catches her off-guard. Her first reaction to meeting him and recognizing him as the infamous villain ’Frostbite’ was pretty much the same - and hiding behind Kei.

- She’s even more afraid of Kain, and honestly thankful the ginger tends to ignore her for the most part. generally, Rankure is easy to startle and scare.

- She loves to floof Kei’s already floofy hair and plop her head/face in there. She also likes to do this with Wasabi.

Kei

- She’s fully aware of how dangerous Ryuu (and Kain) are, but given her distrust in the hero-system due to what happened when she was a teen, Kei has chosen not to make a fuss if they are around, as long as the two behave. Plus calling the cops could just get her GF arrested too. (The villagers of the place they live in don’t really know about Rankure’s background, let alone the two boys)

- She still carries guilt over not being able to save Kain all those years ago, both from his dad and himself, which is also probably why she chooses to sort of turn a blind eye to their presence and occasional actions. You could call her morally grey or ’morally exhausted’ as she likes to put it.

- Kei was primarily the one to teach Wasabi how to read and write, as well as other basic stuff. She was also willing to teach him about whatever caught his interest, be it explaining how rain works, or how sushi is made.

- Generally speaking, Kain and Ryuu tend to lay low around the place, as both respect Kei enough to not cause problems.

#random character facts #my bnha ocs #i was bored #akashiro kain #kain akashiro #katagiri ryuu #ryuu katagiri #saname wasabi #rankure hanekijo #kei reidou #shitpost

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thoughtsthatstray · 7 years

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Stray thoughts: 7/9/2017

I had another one of those strange cinematic dreams last night. Thankfully, I feel like I’ve got enough to sit down and bang away on this keyboard for a bit.

It started out, I was in my parents’ house, in the living room right as you walk in the door. I was in a big comfy crushed velvet chair that didn’t exist in the house when it was ours. Given, there was a dark brown crushed velvet sectional and couch in that room way back when, but the chair that came with it was given to my grandparents for some strange reason. This wasn’t that chair, this chair had huge arms that you sunk down into. It was comfortable. I was sitting there with a book (unknown) watch a huge flat screen on the wall (that also didn’t exist back then). I heard someone coming down the steps.

It was Sarah Hyland, from the show “Modern Family” she walking down the steps. She’s wearing a pair of mesh basketball shorts and an old “shimmel shirt” (the half cut off shirts worn under shoulder pads in football). She wore it far better than I did. She walked over and lifted the shirt, showing off her perky little breasts and all I could do was smile not fully knowing what was going on.

I went back to the book and drifted. I woke up and it was the middle of the afternoon. I opened the door and Sarah was nowhere to be seen. I get in the car, one my dad’s old ones(it was if every car my family ever owned dating from an early 70′s Toyota Corona to my ‘84 CRX to my current car was in the drive/side of the yard) and leave. I’m driving down the road, and it’s like the road is towel or a sheet and two people are shaking it, fluffing it like it’s fresh out of the dryer. With each wave, the car flies forward. I pull into the high school gymnasium and I’m instantly playing a I a 3 on 3 basketball game.

One of my high school friends is on my team and so is the science teacher from the movie “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”. I scan the bleachers looking for Phoebe Cates, she’s not there. Neither is Sarah. We are playing against Julian Edelman, Danny Amendola and some guy I didn’t know. On the other end of the court, Roy Williams was overseeing Tyler Hansbrough and two other guys wearing Tar Heel gear going off on 3 guys that went to a rival high school.

I was enjoying giving Edelman a few hip checks. Nobody was guarding Mr. Vargas so I gave him a bounce pass that he reacted to about 8 seconds too late and I remember yelling at him and he looked confused, why he was wearing his lab coat over his tank/shorts, I have no clue. Each time I got close to Edelman I’d foul him. Foul him hard. He was starting to do that Patriot whine. He finally quit and walked off the court cursing at me when he took a final elbow to the grill that knocked out two teeth.

I blink and I’m back in the old Turbo Diesel heading home, back riding those melting waves of roads. I pull in, park, go inside. I hear the shower running upstairs and I’m still sweaty from the game so I go up, Open the bathroom and Sarah is showering, I step in and she vanishes. It wasn’t the shower from the house but like a smaller high school shower with 3-4 shower heads instead of the normal 8-12, but I was alone. So, I went over and the cut the other three shower heads on as hot as they would go and let the bathroom steam up. I shower, feel refreshed and cut the water off, dry off get dressed and the house is still empty.

I go out looking for a bite to eat and I run into two more Hollywood stars arguing in the parking lot at the local hang out. Julie Bowen (also from Modern Family) and Jim O’Heir (Jerry/Garry from Parks and Recreation) are yelling at each other about whose car hit the other as they were both backing out. I shook my head like a confused puppy and walked in and ordered the Double Chef, large fries and a banana milk shake.

I go back home and Julie Bowen is sitting at the bar in our kitchen. She’s talking to one of my friend’s mothers. She asked me “did you see the wreck?” and I said “no, you were both fussing when I pulled in”. Then she says “That damned Jerry”, like she was on the set of “Parks and Rec” as opposed to calling him Jim. I laughed at the comment but the friend’s mom looked dumbfounded. It went right over her head.

I get back in the car and the roads are still floating a bit, but a little bit more mellow. I come up to an intersection and it’s as if my car just vanished. One of my old football coaches was standing there, the one with the long hair that became more of a friend than an old football coach. He was standing there with two of my friends and I was like “what’s going on?”. We walk out of the road and immediately into the auditorium at the high school. It’s dark, but the stage is lit up. Just the four of us standing there but there is a news crew down at the bottom below the stage. The coach said, “they want to talk to us about what we saw on the boat”. I was like “okay whatever.” Then I’m like what boat?

My coach then says you don’t remember going on a boat with Julie Bowen, the Hollywood actress? I said, “no, I remember getting into a shower with Sarah Hyland, her Hollywood daughter and she vanished”. One of my friends said, “sure you did, that’s a good one.” I gave him, “I can break you in half stare” and said “what about this boat?”

The four of us sat in the back row of the auditorium, then, a waitress brought us four beers. The coach stared to explain the story and I started to remember. I said “no, I wasn’t on the boat with her, I saw her dragging this big bag on to a boat and while it took her quite some time to accomplish, she was determined, and she sped off. I said, “outside of seeing them argue in the Chef’s parking lot and her asking if I saw it, I have no clue about it”.

The newscaster waves us down and she asks, “Can I interview you about the two missing Hollywood stars?” I said, “No” and she looked disappointed. It was like I knew her. Maybe a younger sister of someone I once knew, but I couldn’t place her. We turned to leave walking up the aisle and back out the door stepping into the road. The Turbo Diesel was pulled off to the side as were their cars. We exchanged goodbyes, and I got in the car and headed up 21, to take a drive in the mountains. As the road was about to shift from 4 lanes to 2 I noticed a town Police car closing in on me.

Two lanes and blue lights are in my rear view. I’m thinking, “I’m hoping this is Pete with another joke”. It wasn’t. It was this young hot head jerk of a cop that though he was the shit way back when. He had aged some progressed up the ranks. He asked me for my license and registration, and I handed them to him. “Long time no see”, he says and then “I need you to get out of the car”. As I was getting out, I asked, “Officer what is this about?” and he’s like “First of all it's Sargent and you know damned well what this is about.” You might be a witness to a crime or you might have committed a crime, our detectives want to talk to you. I didn’t like the guy so I felt it was appropriate to be a bit of a smart ass. I said, “you forget ‘secondly’”. He was like “What the fuck are you talking about?”, I said, “You said ‘First of all it's Sargent’”, you then should have said, “Secondly, you know damned well what this is about”, he said, “you always were a smart ass.”

He calls in on his radio, in some Rosco P. Coltrane jive talk to let them know I was stopped and that they were sending back up. I asked him, “Can I drive to the station and you follow me?” and he said, yeah but let’s wait for an escort.” A few minutes later Ole Pete pulls up. He gets out and shakes my hand and says “Have you heard the one about the….. it trails off all of his corny jokes were the same…. I swear he used to pull us over to tell us a joke, or likely to keep a good eye on us. One of the small world stories, before my parents moved to what became my hometown, their next door neighbor an hour or away was Pete’s brother.

Sgt. Dickhead is leading the way, and Pete is following me. We get to the station and I see the Chief, father of an old teammate, but he wasn’t a fan of mine, since I used to like to speed and they never could quite catch me. We go in and sit down and they ask, “How do you know Julie Bowen”? I say, “she’s Claire from “Modern Family”, I think she was on “Boston Legal”, but I don’t recall her name on it”. “Cut the shit”, Sgt Dickhead said, we are well aware of her filmography. “I said, look you asked a question, I answered. I don’t know her. I know who she is, but I don’t know her and filmography is a big word for you, good job.” They asked about the bump up. I explained what I saw. They asked why she was at my house and I said that “Bertha (the friend’s mom) was at the Chef and was talking to her and told her she knew where I lived, and they were there when I got home”. I explained to her that I didn’t see the actual accident, and that she was dragging this big bag onto a boat, but I haven’t seen her since.

I asked if I can leave and the Chief said “no, you are being held on outstanding speeding tickets”. I got loud in saying, “what bullshit speeding tickets”, he opened his desk drawer, pulled out a folder and handed me 5-6 speeding tickets that were still in-tact, all the copies were there. I flipped through them. ’88, ’88, ’89, ’89, ‘89 ’90. I said “these are bullshit and you know it”. “We will let the DA decide that”. “Do I get to make a call?”, I asked and he said sure we will let you make a call. So, I called home. The answering machine came on and I left a message, knowing it was a waste of time. I sit there thinking, I should just rip these fake ass tickets up, but then I knew they’d try to charge me with “Destroying evidence”, so I sat and waited. Then ole Woody came back and said “you are free to go”.

I walk out and Sarah Hyland is standing there, dressed in jeans, a faded light blue UCLA t-shirt a pair of Wayfarers and a Dodgers hat tucked down on her head. We stopped at her rental in the parking lot, grabbed three bags from the trunk and threw them in the back of the Turbo Diesel and was driving out of town. I saw Edelman at the gas station, hit the horn and waved good bye with a one finger salute. I was pulling on the interstate, turned to my right and I was alone and that is when I started to wake up.

Stray thoughts from a warped mind.

#Sarah Hyland #Julie Bowen #Jim O'Heir #hometown #Julian Edelman #basketball #missing teeth #wayfarers #dodgers #300 d turbo diesel #strange dreams #dreams #stray thoughts #warped mind

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daughters-and-winsisters · 7 years

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Huntress-Part 15: Ramsey

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E15 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen

The boom of the Bunker door followed by the footsteps on the stairs down made you lose your train of thought. Despite your headphones in, you still managed to hear the echo in the halls of the building. You took an earbud out and looked up from your laptop. The moment your Dad and Uncle walked in the room the smell hit you. You grimaced.

“Hey, kid.” Uncle Dean greeted, heading for the chair opposite you. “If you sit down I might actually kill you.” You warned, your eyes flickering between the chair and his confused face. “I’m sorry?” “You reek of...I don’t even wanna know. It’s minging, so take a shower and then you can sit down.” You ordered.

Dad chuckled, “Hello to you too.” Thankfully, he was at least dressed in what appeared to be clean clothes and had very few traces of monster on him. Whereas Uncle Dean was plastered in blood, flesh and other substances you weren’t going to jump at the chance to find out what they were.

Uncle Dean, still unsure of what to say, gave you a funny look. You smirked, looking back over to your Dad who’d just gotten a notification on his phone. “Found another case.” He declared. “That was fast.” Uncle Dean huffed. ‘Too fast’ You thought to yourself, but said nothing.

“Yeah I got a series of alga-rhythms to go through a filter of newspapers and-” He stopped, noticing Uncle Dean’s blank face before sighing “The computer told me.”

“Man, monsters and porn. Is there anything they can’t do?” “I’m sure they’d have how to wash yourself on there. Try wikihow.” You sassed, still very aware of the stench. “Y/N’s right, you’ve got pieces of ghouls and wraiths stuck on you...I think there’s some siren in your hair.” Dad’s face scrunched up in disgust when Uncle Dean flicked it away from himself. “I’ve got babywipes in the car-” You shared a look with your Dad. ... “-I’ll go take a shower.”

You watched as he ambled down the stairs, finally cleaning himself up. When you looked over at your Dad you can’t help but laugh. “You know, I think he’s kinda scared of you?” Dad chuckled. “Hopefully.” You giggled. “You coming on the Hunt?” He asked, perching on the table. You glance at the floor for a second “Yeah...why not.”

“So,” Uncle Dean began explaining before him or his brother had properly gotten back into the Impala. “The survivor seems to think she was attacked by an invisible wolf.” “Like uh...” You racked your brain “A hellhound?” “Exactly.” “We think so.” Dad butted in, making sure nothing was set in stone.

“So the guy made the deal right?” You asked. You locked your phone and slid it into your pocket, turning your attention fully on the front seats. “Yep.” “So why did it attack the girl?” “We don’t know...”

You sat back and thought through the information,, mapping out the ideas in your head. “So,” You began, grabbing their attentions “your plan to retrieve any useful information from her is to lie to her?” You tilted your head, hoping the fact that you’d outlined the plan made it seem as bad as it was. Uncle Dean nodded slowly, his face unconvinced. “It’s better for her, it’ll help her sleep at night.” Dad protested. You shrugged “No offence...but it wouldn’t for me. People want closure.” “Thank you! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him!” Uncle Dean agreed, his head turning slightly to face you, but his eyes remaining on the road. “We’re trying this. End of.” Dad huffed. “Well...Good luck.” You shook your head with disbelief, watching as you pulled up outside the survivor- Gwen’s place.

By far the worst part about not being able to convincingly disguise yourself as a FBI agent was the waiting around. You were patient, so the actual process itself was bearable, it was the not knowing everything. Every single time your Dad would briefly run through what happened and you’d know full well it wasn’t the half of it. You threw your head back, staring up at the ceiling of the car. It wasn’t very interesting, but it was a change from the steering wheel. That was when your phone buzzed, saving you from your thoughts. You glanced down, watching it move slightly as it vibrated on the empty seat beside you. “MICK” You sighed. What could he possibly want?

“Yeah?” You mumbled, holding it up to your ear. “It was good to see you.” He began, making you cringe from his small-talk attempt. “Mick,” You broke him from his words before he started ranting more nonsense “What do you want?”

“Your Dad,” He began, pausing to see if that had gotten your attention. Annoyingly- it had. “Was asking about your Mum...and Max.” “...okay?” You decided to bite. “He seemed to have it in his head that the British Men Of Letters killed em for no good reason.” You stayed silent. “Something tells me you haven’t told your Dad the full story.” Still, you said nothing. “Are you trying to make us look bad?” If anything, Mick sounded more offended than angry. “I’m trying,” You paused “I’m trying to not make Mum look bad...or Max.” “You won’t.” His voice went surprisingly softer. “Becky went rogue.” You twitched a little at the use of “Becky”. “I know.” You snapped. “And Max...well you know that too.” He sighed, perhaps empathising for once.

“Yeah I do. So what’s your point?” You were losing the will to live with how vague people were being. “If the possibility of working with us again, as part of the American Hunters became more than just a possibility..would you be willing?”

You paused...would you?

You wouldn’t outright say no. But you also wouldn’t be keen on saying yes...What would your Dad think if you suddenly wanted to work with them...what about Uncle Dean? You saw how they reacted to Mary’s alliance with them and that didn’t exactly go swimmingly...

“Y/N...you still there, love?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “Yeah I’m here...” “Well? Would you be up for it?” “I don’t know...it depends on Dad...and Uncle Dean...I can’t just keep switching sides that’s not fair on anyone.” “Well, speaking of your Dad-” Mick sounded like he had a lot to say,but you barely had time to take in his words when you noticed your Dad and Uncle exiting the house. “Gotta go.” You quickly spoke into the microphone before hanging up. Whatever he had to say could wait, there was no way you were getting into another awkward conversation.

They opened the doors to Baby, looking defeated. “How did it go?” You asked, double checking that you’d hung up. “How do you think?” Uncle Dean raised an eyebrow, “At least we tried, it could have gone worse.” Your Dad was trying his best to find a silver lining, which was sweet in it’s own strange way. “So uh...” You looked out of the window, noticing Gwen, the girl who’s survived, by the window of the house “now what?”

If someone had a plan of what to do it wasn’t needed as a cry for help erupted. Sharing a look of worry, the three of you sprang into action. You grabbed your handgun and sprinted after Dad and Uncle Dean. Gwen’s screams of fright grew louder as you turned the corner, aiming your guns up. You and Uncle Dean took aim and fired in the direction of the growling. A yelp sounded, followed by the nearest window smashing. It must have legged it.

Everyone sat down, it wasn’t awkward necessarily...just a little strange. “Okay...what the hell is going on.” Gwen asked. She had every right to. You looked between your Dad and Uncle, who spoke up “That was a hell hound.” “A what?” “It’s a giant dog hound thing from hell.” “I’m um...” She ran a hand through her hair “Guessing you guys aren’t cops.” You could tell she was aiming that one at you. “No...”Dad shook his head “My name’s Sam, that’s my brother Dean and this is my daughter Y/N. We hunt monsters.” “So wy did you tell me Marcus got killed by a bear?” Gwen interrogated. “His idea.” You and Uncle Dean say at the same time, making you smile a little. “’Supposed to make you feel better.”

Dad rolled his eyes, he clearly still thought he was right. Then he adjusted his position to face Gwen, “Hellhounds will only come after people if they’ve sold their soul...have you-?” “No!” “Would Marcus have?” You asked, trying to cover all the possibilities. “No! Never...” “Are there any other reasons?” You asked, turning to look at your Dad. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes in thought. Gwen wasn’t lying as far as you could tell so you were lost for ideas. “Well we all know one person we could ask.” Uncle Dean said reluctantly. You realised where he was going with this- Crowley. The King Of Hell. Marvelous.

He took out his phone and held it to his ear: “Yeah yeah look I get that you’re still upset....It was Gavin’s call...we’ve got a situation...hellhounds! Crowley, one of your mutts is going after people who haven’t made a deal...” You watched them go back and forth, trying your best to fill in the gaps as you only heard Uncle Dean’s half of the conversation.

The King of Hell himself appeared, both him and your Uncle still with their phones in their hands. He hung up, taking in his surroundings briefly. “You miss me?”

“Not really.” You mumbled, making him frown.

After explaining your case he leant his head back before sighing. “This isn’t a Hellhound this is the Hellhound.” “Which means?” Dad pressed, leaning forward in his chair. “After God said let there be light he also made other creatures...inluding Hellhounds. They were too vicious however, so he planned to have them all put down. Until our favourite fallen Angel rescued one. A pregnant bitch names Ramsey.” “And you can’t control her.” You deducted, noticing his face become slightly more stressed as he went. “No one can, Mouse. Only Lucifer.” You raised an eyebrow at the nickname. Gwen looked shocked “As in the Lucifer?” “Yeah, but he’s locked in a cage.” Uncle Dean explained briefly, no doubt creating more questions. “Oh...” She tilted her head “Good.” “So,” Uncle Dean nodded “Why’s this Ramsey after Gwen?”

“You tell me.”

Everyone turned to look at Gwen who sunk in her chair, trying her best to think back with such pressure. “Uhm...Well...I did uh, hit it with an axe when it attacked us.” You smirked a little, liking the idea of a Hellhound being hit round the face with an axe.

“Well then. We kill Ramsey or she eats her.” Crowley nodded to Gwen “Fun.”

You shared a look with your Dad, both thinking the same thing no doubt. “We?” “I have a reputation to keep, Moose. It’s no good people thinking I’m not in control. Besides, that bitches head on my wall would look rather fetching.”

“Well Hellhounds are invisible...” Uncle Dean began to explain while he took out the correct equipment from the boot “Unless you wear a pair of these” he held up a pair of glasses “made with holy fire. Or unless you’ve sold your soul and one is coming after you.”

“Me and Crowley are gonna go see if we can catch up to this thing. You stay with Sam and you’ll be safe.” “Okay.” Gwen nodded and got in to the shotgun seat. “You staying, kiddo?” Uncle Dean asked. “Yeah why not.” You shrugged, aware you didn’t have any glasses. But hey, what could possibly go wrong, right?

“Take care of her.” “Of course, Dean. Look, even if Ramsey manages to-” “You’re talking about the car aren’t you?” You broke the conversation. “Of course you are.” Dad shook his head. “Just imagine she’s uh, a beautiful woman.” “Oh God.” “A beautiful, beautiful woman.” “Stop.”

“Shut up.” Uncle Dean was beginning to lose his temper at Crowley, who repeated what he said in a deep American accent: “Shut up.” “I mean it.” “I mean it.”

“Oi!” You scare the pair of them into silence “Shut it.”

“Yes, Mother.” Crowley joked. “Do I look like a Scottish redhead to you?” You snapped, making him smirk slightly. “Who knew you’d be hunting with us, huh Crowley?” Uncle Dean asked, enjoying how superior he felt. “I’m maintaining my reputation.” “You even saved Cas.” Uncle Dean pointed out. “Only to stop the three of you moping about like old school girls.”

“Maybe we’ve rubbed off on you.”

“Or perhaps I’ve rubbed off on you.”

“Hold on, this way.” Uncle Dean gestured for you to follow.

You held a torch up, becoming aware of your blade in your back pocket. Just in case you needed it. You follow on, watching the torch light expose the sawdust as it floated about innocently. The beam followed a trail of tracks and dried blood until falling upon a body. The corpse was a few days old, he had rivers of dried blood branching into streams as they traced his bones. His skin and clothes were ripped to shreds where the claws and teeth had attacked him. You grimaced “So she dragged him back to her...” You tried to think of the right word “den?” “Looks like it. But she’s not here now.” “Maybe she’s gone for more...food? Do Hellhounds even eat...” You trailed off, glancing around as though it would help you decide what to do next.

Staring down in horror at his car, Uncle Dean threw his hands up in the air with frustration “This is why you don’t drive!” You rolled your eyes. “So...it’s over?” Gwen seemed uncertain. She’d been through a lot. “Yeah.” “Thank you.” She smiled. To everyone’s surprise and to Crowley’s disgust she hugged him tightly. You stifled a laugh at his face, watching him try not to squirm in her arms.

“Must be going.” Crowley cleared his throat when she let go.

“Crowley, wait a second!” Dad put his hand up, stopping Crowley in his tracks. “Thank you.”

You follow your family down the steps of the Bunker, your backpack feeling more heavier now than it wasn’t before. Still, you didn’t say anything. Dean picked up his buzzing phone “Cas, what’s up?” “I’ve got a lead on Kelly. She’s with Daegon, Prince Of Hell.” “What do we know about him?” “Actually it’s a her. And not much...only rumours and whispers.” “Okay well let us know if you find anything.” “Of course.”

You slid your backpack off your shoulders and put it on the floor, stretching slightly and sighing. Dad’s phone then went. “Your computer talking to you again?” Uncle Dean chuckled. Smiling a little at the comment, you were more concerned about Dad’s expression. “No it’s uh...Mick Davis.” Immediately you looked up. Why would he be calling your Dad? Was it the same reason he called you? Was he just feeding lies to the pair of you?

“Listen, Dean...Y/N...I don’t have some computer programme feeding me cases. Every job for the last 2 weeks have all come from the British Men Of Letters.”

You didn’t know what to say. Is that why Mick had called you? Was he planning on telling you about this? Does this mean your Dad would be okay with everyone working together...would you be okay with that?

“Dean, I know you hate them and Y/N I know you’ve got a past with them-”

“No, Sammy. We hate them.”

“They’re saving people!”

“They killed your daughter!” Uncle Dean shouted, reminding you more than your Dad.

“Well...Mick said they had a very good reason...Y/N I knpw you find it hard to talk about but-” “They did have a good reason. It just wasn’t their place to do it. So stop talking about it.” You warned, glaring at the pair of them. You didn’t care what they thought, you were too angry having to constantly be reminded about your sister, let alone your Mum.

“I shouldn’t have lied...I’m sorry.” Dad calmed down, his voice back to a more softer tone. “Okay.” Uncle Dean nodded. “Okay?” Dad echoed. “Do I like it? No. Do I trust them? Hell no. But we work with people we don’t trust all the time. So I’ll bite, but the second something feels off. We bail.” “Of course.” Dad nods.

Two heads turn to face you, both expecting you to provide some sort of input no doubt. You didn’t know how to feel. You were obviously upset that your own Father had lied to you...but hadn’t you lied to him? You weren’t sure whether or not to mention those voice mails...

You shrugged “Your call. I feel like Mary already knows more about them than I ever did so I’m not as useful as you probably think I am. Just well trained. They don’t tell you anything and yet they manage to teach you everything.”

“So you’re okay with this?” Your Dad asked, his eyebrows knitted together between his worried eyes.

“I guess I have to be.” “Are you, though?” He pressed.

Dad’s phone went again, he reached into his pocket and looked down at the screen. “It’s Mick.”

Uncle Dean composed himself. He nodded slowly, still trying to come to terms with how his brother had been lying to him “Well?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing at you for a second “Aren’t you going to pick it up?”

Part 16: Wayward Daughters

Masterlist

I do not own these gifs

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Tbh this series is getting less and less likes with every post so I might just round it off to an end at some point if that’s what you guys want.

(Tag list after cut)

@barbygrozna @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @chelseypaigeake @impala-hunter @msdooos @starswirlblitz @fanboyswhereare-you @amorluzymelodia @d-willem @adidabach @winchesters-favorite-girl @squirels-angels-and-moose @27bmm @practicallyawinchester @demonic-meatball @xsecretrejectx @bea789 @trashforwinchesters @snazzyjazz @diesintheshower @intoomuchfandoms @riversong-sam @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @kbarnett1089 @teamfreewill67 @revwinchester @jensen-jarpad @itseverythingilike @avalon821 @miss-miep @lovelouisbabe @wcmanwcnder @graceless-dragon @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @oneshotsdeanshort @caroldanversinatardis @whovianayesha @fandomsstolemylife00 @straightasdeanwinchester @soullessbabee @heytherecutie13 @spnkisum @clairedelalune

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stillthewordgirl · 7 years

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LOT/CC fic: Central City Rendezvous, ch. 14 (of 16)

Rip Hunter never came for the Legends. But maybe some meetings were meant to be... (A CaptainCanary AU.)

Last chapter to take place during the Flash episode "Invincible." Thanks again to @larielromeniel for the beta!

Um. Some Atomwave snuck in. (I don't know how it happened! It just... did!) Just so you know. ;)

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

"She can't break out of there," Leonard says, staring at the angry woman on the other side of the glass. Black Siren glares at him, eyes filled with rage, then screams, no trace of the sound waves audible on the other side. "You're sure?"

"Mmhmm." Cisco eyes him. "Positive. How's Sara?"

He starts to glare at the younger man, then gives it up as a lost cause, looking back at the Siren. "She'll be OK." This is what Sara's sister looks like? More or less? There's really not much of a resemblance. But then, Lisa looks almost nothing like him.

After one more long look, he turns away.

"Where's Mick? And... the others." What the hell does he call that absurd group of losers, anyway?

"Kendra said she has a place to stay, a little to Ray's disappointment, I think." Barry sounds amused. "Stein and Jax went to check on their homes and families. I think Mick dragged Ray out of here to go drinking." He motions toward a police scanner. "I fully expect to hear about that later. Or maybe Ray will be a good influence?"

"The reverse is more likely." He's not really sure why he came here. Just to make sure Black Siren was contained, he supposes, for Sara's sake. And to check on the others… Mick. Because.

Barry interrupts his thoughts.

"We're, uh, getting together, later, a bunch of us, at the house. A celebratory dinner. It was Iris' idea." He eyes the crook, a tiny smile on his face. "I know you know where that is."

Cocoa's not cocoa without the mini marshmallows. You're out. I checked. "I do."

"Well... stop by. You and Sara. If you want." He grins a little wider at the look on Leonard's face, then turns away, speaking to Cisco, as Leonard turns toward the door.

Invited to Barry Allen's home. What is the world coming to? He shakes his head in bemusement as he departs.

He cuts through the medical room on his way back to street level, surprised to see Henry Allen puttering around with the equipment. The older man looks up at the unexpected interruption, actually smiling as he notes Leonard standing there.

"Mr. Snart. Hello." He hesitates. "Ms. Lance. Barry told me... is she OK?"

Snark comes to mind first, snark and a biting comeback. He gives voice to neither, hesitating instead as he tries to think of an appropriate response.

Let's face it, Leonard. A psychologist would probably have a field day with you and your reactions to other people's fathers.

He's spared the need to come up with something when Henry Allen laughs a little, shaking his head and giving the younger man a wry smile that looks a lot like one of his son's.

"That was sort of a stupid thing to ask, wasn't it?" he says. "Of course she's not OK. What a thing... Barry told me her real sister, here, was badly injured not that long ago, that there are still many issues. That just makes it harder, I'd think."

He shrugs and continues setting the medical area to rights. Leonard watches, feeling like he ought to leave, but oddly loathe to.

A field day.

"All these other Earths, it makes you wonder what went differently in each of them," Allen muses. "Barry's mother is alive, in Earth-2. Did he tell you that?" He shakes his head again as Leonard wonders uneasily if the man has forgotten that he and Barry Allen are not precisely buddies. "I'll admit, I considered asking him to take me over there. Just... just for a few minutes. So I could see her."

Henry Allen looks off into the distance again, then sighs.

"No good can come from that," he says quietly, picking up a scalpel and studying it. "And so I won't do it. But I can't help but wonder: what was different? Why is Nora alive? Why is Barry not a speedster? Why is Iris a cop? Why..."

"Why am I the mayor instead of... what I am?" Leonard can't believe he's actually said the words, although they've been rattling around in his head for weeks now, only picking up volume with recent events. But they sound so, so... wistful... that he shudders, turning to leave before he can hear what he figures is sure to be a scornful reaction.

But Allen doesn't laugh. And, when he speaks, he sounds so thoughtful that Leonard turns back in surprise.

"Just as impossible to know as anything else, I suppose," he says, slowly. "But... maybe your father wasn't the... piece of work... he was here. Or, perhaps more likely than that, you had more of a support system." He points at the younger man. "Don't think I haven't wondered what would have become of my boy if Joe hadn't been there for him. And you were starting at a disadvantage to begin with... no, don't give me that look..."

That may have been the first time anyone's used dad voice on Leonard Snart in decades. He's stunned speechless. Allen continues, ignoring his expression.

"Frankly, I don't doubt your father was a bad egg in any world," he says, somewhat acerbically. "But you…the man I heard about in prison... the one I've heard about here... yes, you've been feared. But you're been admired, too. No, there's good in you."

He sounds just like his son in that moment. Leonard snorts.

Allen just smiles. "Barry sees it," he points out.

"Barry sees good in everyone."

"Ah. Yes, he does. But does Sara Lance?"

He has no good answer to that. Allen's smile grows.

"No, I didn't think so," he says. "And, don't tell Barry, but I don't either." Another faraway look. "Not anymore."

He stares off into the distance another moment, then shakes his head. "I think sometimes that 'who we are' comes down to a narrower set of circumstances than most people ever recognize, Mr. Snart.

"And what might be most interesting is that it's never really too late... to change those circumstances."

Maybe it's Sara's grief over the woman who might have been her sister. Maybe it's Henry Allen's words about second chances and "who we are."

Or maybe it's just him.

But next, he goes back to the safe house. Just to see if Mick's there.

He lets himself in, shaking his head at the heat gun thrown casually onto the futon with Mick's coat, then lifts his head, tensing just a little as the man himself, in T-shirts and boxers, throws the door to his room open and stalks out, staring at Leonard a moment before approaching.

Leonard waits until he's at the far end of the table. Then he sets the cold gun down and, with a push, sends it to the other side of the table, where Mick stops it with a hand before it can slide off, eyeing the weapon for a moment before staring at his partner.

"I'm told we should have a... heart-to-heart."

Mick grunts, folding his arms. "We don't have hearts. Where does that leave us?"

Leonard sighs. But there are worse responses his partner could have given him, and most of them involve violence and fire. He can work with this.

"You wanted to know," he says finally, carefully. "What changed."

Mick remains silent, watching him. Leonard looks away, picking over his words, fighting the desire to fall back on snark again, or even to just to stop now, to deny that any changes have taken place. But they have. And Mick knows it.

"Seems like I spent my life trying to prove that I wasn't my dad," he says slowly. "That I was a better crook... a better man." He lifts his head and looks right at Mick. " And then... I wasn't."

He broke my sister's heart... seemed only fair that I break his.

He shrugs. "Lewis is gone. Seemed it was time for something... new."

The silence stretches. Leonard knows Mick is more than capable of reading between the lines, of understanding what his friend is trying to say without making him elaborate. But he'll also play dumb when it suits him, so...

Finally, Mick sighs and shakes his head, shoving the cold gun back to Leonard, who puts a hand on it with what he hopes doesn't seem like undue haste.

"And then you met a blond bad-ass," the bigger man says, and there's actually a tiny hint of approval there? 'You always did like 'em blond."

The relief that swells up is unbidden and unexpected. Leonard snorts, leaning against the table. "As opposed to..."

Something clicks. Mick's antsiness. The fact, to be honest, that he's not out casing the still-damaged city. The... he turns his head to check again... the other coat lying half off the side of the futon.

"Mick."

"Boss."

"Are you keeping a hero in the bedroom?"

Mick snorts. And doesn't deny it. "You were."

"Yes, but..." There's really no good way to reply to that. He settles for a plaintive, "But... the Boy Scout?"

"Hey. Be prepared."

And there's no good way at all to respond to that. "Whatever. You stickin' around?"

"For the moment. That Zoom clown, he's still out there, isn't he?" Before Leonard can react to that, a slightly maniacal grin touches Mick's face. "This's a bunch of lunatics you've thrown in with, Snart, but they could be fun. That bird girl... she has some stories... wonderin' if I couldn't convince her to join us..."

At the moment, he doesn't know what "us" Mick means, nor what... activity. Which is just fine. "I don't want to know about it." Leonard turns for the door. "Have fun. Don't break the hero."

"Snart."

Hand on the door, he turns back around. Mick's watching him, an odd expression on his face, then glances away.

"You're not your dad," he mutters, again looking anywhere in the room but at the other man. "Never were."

"Yeah. Well. Neither are you."

Sara, awake and stretching when he finally gets back to the apartment, is more than willing to visit the West/Allen household for dinner, a thought that still bemuses Leonard. He agrees—but although he'd like to say it's for the humor value alone, he's increasingly aware that it's more.

This is all too... good. All too smooth. MIck had pointed it out and he'd been right. Barry has been far too blasé about the fact that Zoom has escaped again, that the speedster who can create portals at will is still on the loose.

Alexa.

The feeling grows while he showers and dresses, and he reaches for the holster almost without thinking about it, strapping it to his leg and sliding the cold gun home. Sara, who can tell he's preoccupied, can see it in the way he moves and the expression on his face, also sees the weapon, but doesn't comment except for a nod, reaching for another knife that swiftly disappears into some hidden scabbard under her street clothes

She gets it, this woman. It's one of the reasons he loves her.

They share a bike, parking not far from the house, and the feeling of Alexa is now stronger than ever. He taps his fingers on the gun as Sara rings the doorbell, and then he walks into the West/Allen home as an invited guest for the very first time. At the side of Sara Lance.

Life is strange.

Sara squeezes his hand, then moves toward the table to greet Barry and Iris, while Henry Allen rises from his place on the couch... next to Tina McGee, hmm... to extend a hand to Leonard.

"Strange, isn't it?" he says in a low tone, echoing Leonard's earlier thoughts. "Being here. After... everything."

There's really no good way to respond to that. He settles for a rueful smile, stares at the fireplace a moment, then turns toward Sara and the others.

"...really are invincible."

"No." Barry smiles a little, then grins as he sees Leonard. "But the Speed Force is with us."

Alexa. "No one's invincible, Allen. And maybe the 'Speed Force' is with you, but does it give a shit for the rest of us?"

His tone comes out harsher than intended, and Sara rolls her eyes at him while Barry blinks.

"We did win, Snart," he points out, though, a note of humor in his tone. "And thank you for that." A nod to Sara. "Both of you."

"More than just us," Sara points out, taking a glass of champagne and handing one to Leonard, nudging him, as Iris and Joe start passing the glasses out and the others gather near the table.

"First, a toast," West says, with a smile. "To family."

Not usually his sort of toast, Leonard thinks as he watches the others drink. But he thinks of Lisa. Mick. Sara. And glancing at her, he drinks too.

"That's my kind of toast, short and sweet," Cisco says happily. "Let's eat."

And then he freezes, eyes wide, taking a step back a moment later, horror on his face.

Alexa. Leonard puts a hand on his gun again. Alexa.

"Cisco," Barry says, "what is it?" He puts his glass down. "What'd you see?"

"I don't understand."

"What, Cisco?" Joe says gently. No one's watching Leonard, who slides the cold gun from its holster, Alexa prickling along every nerve, casting quick glances from side to side.

What would hurt Barry the most?

"Earth-2, splitting in half, straight down to the poles," Cisco says numbly.

Joe West? Iris?

"Tell me I didn't just vibe the future."

He focuses then, on Henry Allen, who's watching the drama, champagne in hand. Yes.

"Tell me I didn't just see the end of the world!"

And then... Zoom's there, in the house. He has an arm around Henry Allen's neck... and almost everyone freezes.

Almost.

Leonard moves without thinking about it. He swings the cold gun up, aims and fires in one smooth motion. And Zoom never sees it coming.

He has to avoid hitting Allen, so he just wings the speedster, really. It's not a death blow, just enough to hurt, to slow, to...

To make him let go.

Hunter Zolomon snatches his arm back with a howl of very real pain and, for a fraction of a second, the black-masked figure's eyes burn into the stubborn blue ones of the crook.

And then Zoom is gone. At least, for now.

And Henry Allen, who can still feel the speedster's grip on his neck, touches it in wonder as he looks first at his son, then at Leonard Snart, who's still holding the cold gun—a weapon designed and built to stop speedsters—extended, a look of resolve in his eyes.

And, unbeknownst to all of them, the timeline... shifts.

No one sees it, but the figure that stands in the shadows outside the West/Allen household nods in immense satisfaction as Zoom flees the home, pulling back moments later as people spill out of the house, going to S.T.A.R. Labs to put certain vulnerable members of the group into what passes as protective custody.

Henry Allen doesn't die today.

And that changes... everything.

#captain canary #central city rendezvous #legends of tomorrow #sara lance #leonard snart

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

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My Mother, My Dog, and Clowns

by Dan H

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

Dan is unimpressed by Ashes to Ashes~

Ashes to Ashes is the follow up series to the critically acclaimed Life on Mars. You would not believe how long I spent trying to come up with the best possible David Bowie quote for the title of this article.

Rejected titles may or may not have included: The Girl With the Mousy Hair, Take a Look at the Lawman, Hope You're Happy Too, Beating Up the Wrong Guy, Time Takes a Cigarette, Although He Wasn't There, Your Circuit's Dead There's Something Wrong, and I'm an Alligator. I finally went with the one I went with because the show does in fact feature a sinister clown, and the heroine is totally obsessed with her mum.

Anyway the original Life on Mars was about DI Sam Tyler, who is in a car crash and wakes up in 1973, where he falls in with period-appropriate Mancunian copper Gene Hunt. What follows is basically your classic buddy-cop-show. One's from the progressive, liberal nineties and solves crimes with procedure and cutting edge criminal science. The other is from the seventies and solves crimes with gut instinct and shouting. They, well, fight crime.

Life on Mars worked because it was basically a straightforward cop show with a decent gimmick. Two cops with different personalities, a crime every week, and a framing story about how the main character was “mad, in a coma, or back in time”. The second series didn't work quite as well as the first, as so often happens they got a bit of Jack Sparrow syndrome and decided that Gene Hunt was more interesting than Sam, which made things a bit problematic, but even then it was still a good watchable show.

Ashes to Ashes has several subtle differences from its parent show. Firstly it's set in 1981 rather than 1973. Secondly it's set in London rather than Manchester. Thirdly instead of the central conflict being between a hard-bitten working class copper and a highly trained policeman who was raised in a different time with a different set of values, it's between a hard bitten working class copper and ... a woman.

Now I should probably put my hand up here and say that the problem with being a self-righteous pseudofeminist like me is that you have to be really careful about your reactions to things, because a lot of the time it can be hard to tell whether you're objecting to something because it's sexist, or whether you're objecting to it because you're being sexist, if you see what I mean.

Basically the problem I had with Ashes to Ashes was that where Sam Tyler came across as competent, professional, intelligent, compassionate and generally a lot like Nick Angel from Hot Fuzz, a twenty first century supercop, Alex Drake came across as histrionic, self-centred, and frequently just a bit rubbish. In the interests of self-awareness, I recognize that this might just be my own subconscious prejudices talking, it's possible that I read Alex as annoying and self-centred simply because she's played by a woman, rather than the writers having chosen to write her that way because she's a woman, if you see the distinction.

It's for this reason that the comparison between Sam and Alex is at its most interesting in the first episode, because both characters react almost exactly the same way, but for some reason Sam comes across as behaving perfectly rationally, while Alex comes across as hysterical.

I think part of the reason is simply that because Sam was there first, the audience didn't know quite what to expect, and so his disorientation mirrors our own. His attempts to make sense of his new situation match our efforts to make sense of the series, and his eventual acceptance of it allows us to settle down and enjoy the show.

By contrast, Alex has to contend not only with the audience's awareness of the situation but also her own. She is very specifically presented as being familiar with Sam's accounts of his experiences, which gives the whole series a distinctly fanficcy vibe which it never really overcomes (it doesn't, I think, help that several elements of the show – arbitrarily changing the location, spuriously getting a major character divorced so you can ship them, a fundamentally awful character who everybody seems to love for no good reason – are the sorts of things that would get you laughed off of fanfiction.net). More than this, though, while Sam's understanding of his predicament is left ambiguous, never really progressing beyond “mad, in a coma, or back in time” Alex Drake spends not only the first episode but the entire series fully convinced that the whole thing is a hallucination, which uncomfortably highlights the fact that what we are watching is just a work of fiction, based on another work of fiction, that the people in it aren't real and we have no particular reason to care about any of them.

By the end of the first episode Sam has basically settled into his 1970s reality, and proceeds to treat it as functionally real. This makes you invest in the show for two reasons, firstly because all the characters in it are treated like real people and secondly because the central mystery of whether Tyler really is back in time is preserved. This means that the show can settle down to being about fighting crime in 1970s Manchester, which is sort of what the whole thing was about. Drake's refusal to engage with the 1980s on their own terms makes it hard to care about anybody. You can't care about the supporting cast because you're constantly being told they're not real, and you can't care about Drake because she's so utterly selfish.

DI Drake also comes to the show with a crapton more baggage than DI Tyler. Tyler would occasionally flash back to an indistinct childhood image that he could only half remember, and couldn't understand. His father appears in two episodes, and Tyler's final confrontation with him is quite moving and understated, but for the most part DI Tyler and DCI Hunt just fought crime.

Drake, on the other hand, has awoken in 1981, a few short weeks before both her parents were killed by a car bomb. Pretty much the whole show is her angsting about the fact that both her parents were killed by a car bomb and trying to stop both her parents being killed by a car bomb. Those parts of the show that are not about both her parents being killed by a car bomb are about her angsting that her mother didn't love her enough (her mother who, by the way, she contrives to bring in to every single episode on a variety of flimsy, unprofessional excuses) or shipping her with Gene Hunt.

The actual crimes that the team solve are completely secondary. DI Drake doesn't care about them – she's convinced that the whole thing is a hallucination and that her first priority has to be herself and her parents being killed by a... you get the idea – and the rest of the team seems primarily interested in DI Drake (again, huge Mary-Sue flags go up over the way the rest of the team respond to Alex – Tyler was pretty much ostracised for the entire first series, whereas Drake instantly develops a relationship with Hunt which is better than the one his team have, despite their having worked with him for over a decade).

Drake's obsession with the meta-plot has a knock-on effect of harming the plots of the individual episodes. She's interested in herself, her parents, and her psychobabble. She's not particularly interested in, y'know, solving crimes.

Oh sure crimes get solved over the course of the series, usually by either dumb luck, handwavey “psychology” or simply by somebody else doing the legwork. Worse, she frequently interferes in investigations so that she can subvert them to some other end, like trying to stop the guns that would later lead to her shooting, or trying to bang up the guy that shoots her, or trying to stop her parents being killed by a car bomb. It all makes her profoundly unsympathetic and horrifically unlikeable.

All of this is made worse by the fact that she's a woman. Again, I freely admit that this might actually be me being sexist, rather than the show being sexist, but from where I sat watching it, it felt a lot like Drake's personality was effectively “female”.

This is most telling in her relationship with Gene Hunt. In the original Life on Mars Sam was the rational one (because he was educated, and came from the twenty-first century and relied a lot more on technology) and Gene was the intuitive one (he had a copper's gut instinct). But of course DI Drake is a woman, so she has to be the emotional intuitive one, which leads to completely ludicrous situations where Gene Hunt is yelling things like “we don't have any evidence” while the highly educated twenty first century police psychologist is making wild leaps of intuition on the flimsiest of evidence (my favourite being “no, I saw how certain you were when you said it was him”). She gets hysterical, she cries, she clings to men for comfort and affirmation, she's obsessed with her mother and trying to bone her surrogate father-figure. She's really, really awful.

There's probably good stuff in Ashes to Ashes - the actual plot with her parents is resolved relatively well, although the inevitable twist feels a little bit forced. Suffice to say that her parents' car was not blown up for any of the normal reasons that one would blow up a car, and was blown up in order to achieve an effect which the killer could have achieved better in a number of different ways. Part of me hopes that the next series will pick up, since now her mum and dad are dead she can hopefully get on with actually being a goddamned copper.

We won't find out for a while though, because we've just started watching Chuck, which was half the price of Ashes to Ashes and is actually really good.

Themes:

TV & Movies

Minority Warrior

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Guy

at 13:18 on 2009-10-20Forget your mind, and you'll be free... ?

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Niall

at 11:17 on 2009-10-21Huh. I liked Ashes to Ashes -- and Alex Drake -- precisely because she treats the world around her as an illusion. Far from reducing my empathy, it made it easier for me to empathise with her, since as far as I'm concerned her reaction is that of any sane person in possession of the information she had.

Nor do I really agree that she's more emo than Sam; in fact one strike against the first season in my mind is that the overarching plot is basically the same in both cases, to confront some mystery about the way their parents left them (abandoned in the case of Sam, dead in the case of Alex). And I'm pretty sure she cries less than Sam, too. (Not that there's anything wrong with crying, I just meant that Sam was plenty emo.)

My problem with the first series -- aside from the inevitable romantic tension between Alex and Hunt, which has some nice moments but is mostly tedious -- is that it shied away from engaging with the nature of fantasy and dream in the way that I thought Life on Mars did so well. Much is made of her analytical mind, and ability to judge character -- both of which should be helpful attributes when trapped in a death-dream -- but the writers never really pushed hard enough, probably because they didn't wwant to abandon the crime-of-the-week, even though, as you point out, some of them end up being quite perfunctory.

But I gather this is somewhat rectified in the second season, so.

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Arthur B

at 13:59 on 2009-10-21Maybe this makes more sense if you've actually seen this, but if Alex really believes the whole thing is a dream or illusion, why does she care about the car bomb? The fact that it apparently takes up so much of her time would seem to suggest that she lends at least a little credence to the idea that she can save her parents, which isn't consistent with the idea that she's sceptical about the whole experience. Could it be that she's supposed to be a Thomas Covenant sort, making out that she believes it's all a dream but taking it seriously anyway?

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Guy

at 14:25 on 2009-10-21This will probably be even less helpful than my Bowie-quote above, but I didn't really like Life on Mars and so I haven't really attempted to watch Ashes to Ashes. It felt to me as though the premise of the first show was, "let's make a 70s cop show, but have some kind of gimmick that allows us to wink at the audience about how different the 70s and the present are." And... so it felt like a mixture of some very nice aesthetics with some very ordinary cop show cliches. I like the actor - John Simm? - who plays Sam, but I wasn't really able to believe in him or the world because it felt so pasted together... particularly with some very Captain Planet-esque single-episode-resolutions of complex social problems like football hooliganism and police corruption. I do think the aesthetics are well done, and I kept wanting to like it... without quite getting there. Sounds like I probably wouldn't get there with this series either.

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Dan H

at 16:58 on 2009-10-21@Guy

For what it's worth I liked the original Life on Mars for exactly the reasons you disliked it. I basically really like cop shows, and appreciated the fact that it was essentially a cop show with a cool gimmick. I thought its treatment of Complex Social Issues (tm) was actually okay, at least in the first season - it was a bit heavy handed but it felt like it had a real awareness of the time and place - somebody writing for it clearly really had lived in Manchester in the 1970s and was writing about their childhood as much as anything else.

@Niall

Firstly, what Arthur says: treating the whole thing as an illusion in Alex' mind actually makes no sense whatsoever. It's clear that when she's talking to her mother she really is talking to her mother, and when she finds out the real reason her parents died she clearly is finding out true information. This makes no sense if the whole thing is a delusion.

On a wider level, deciding it's all an illusion is absolutely *not* a sensible reaction to waking up and finding yourself in 1981. A rational response, in fact, would be to decide that *everything you remember* is a delusion - after all those memories exist entirely in your head - and that you really are just somebody who lives in the 1980s. Alternatively you could rationally decide that you have in fact traveled in time. The notion that the world around you is an illusion is actually completely ludicrous however you cut it.

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Niall

at 17:49 on 2009-10-21I didn't say it actually

a delusion. The only possible direction for S2 to go in, that I can see, in fact, is to suggest that it is somehow "more" than a delusion, that there is in some sense a "reality" linking Alex's world and Drake's; otherwise they're just going to continue retreading Life on Mars. But either way it doesn't preclude the existence of information that seems "new" to Alex within the 1980s world; it's either the product of her subconscious mind or something more, and either explanation works just fine.

As to the second point, I didn't say it was purely rational, in the strict sense of the phrase, I said it struck me as the response of a sane person in possession of the information she had: that is, an extensive, internally coherent set of memories vastly more extensive than even the most detailed fictional world or documented case of delusion. Particularly when 1980s-world is *not*, as she is experiencing it, internally coherent. Now, the basic premise of both LoM and AtA is that actually, either response is valid; but the scales always felt tilted towards delusion to me, to the point where I occasionally lost patience with Sam's vacillation. Alex's commitment to a particular stance was refreshing.

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Dan H

at 18:34 on 2009-10-21But the information she has is that she's awake and alive in a world which is, in fact, extensive and internally coherent. The fact that it is more detailed than any documented case of delusion is in fact strong evidence that she isn't delusional and that, therefore, treating everything as if it's an illusion isn't sane at all. It's stupid.

Further, as Arthur points out, she actually *doesn't* commit to the idea that everything's an illusion. If she did, she'd just fling herself off the nearest building.

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Andy G

at 02:52 on 2009-10-22Maybe it's like one of those dreams where you are convinced you're rational and in control, but when you wake up you realise you were working on fucked-up dream logic the whole time after all.

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http://colyngbourne.livejournal.com/

at 11:16 on 2009-10-22Thanks, Dan, for saying everything I had been thinking about Ashes to Ashes. I abandoned watching it after the first series. Mostly because of Alex's useless attitude to what was happening to her, but also the whole "let's dress in all the fashions and actually apply tons of over-done 1980's make-up" as if a C21st professional woman would think a) these were classy fashions to wear to work in a police station b) could bring herself to over-make-up herself with blue eyeshadow etc etc. The whole thing was crass and sexist, the UST and over-concentration on her relationship with Gene reducing the value of the drama overall.

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Dan H

at 22:18 on 2009-10-22The way they dressed Alex did strike me as a bit off, I was sort of willing to give it the benefit of the doubt as a genre parody. On the other hand her mother dressed entirely sensibly.

The more I think about it, and the more I look back at /Life on Mars/ the more I wonder if the problem with /Ashes to Ashes/ isn't a lack of a concrete setting. LoM is fairly clearly set in 1973 in Manchester. I might even go so far as to say that it's explicitly set in the childhood of whoever wrote it, although that might be entirely untrue and is certainly unfounded. Ashes to Ashes, by contrast, is just set in THE EIGHTIES.

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Sister Magpie

at 16:54 on 2009-10-23

You could have something there. I remember one of the problems they had when they did the US remake was that they set it in LA and I seem to remember people just not getting a sense of place. At least when they moved it to NYC they got closer to the specific time/place.

Also just off the cuff, "70s cop show" is very different from "80s cop show." The first automatically gives me a sense of contrast. The 80s just seems like jokes about the 80s rather than a whole feel and attitude, if that makes sense. It's just one more level of something specific and concrete vs. just a general time in the past.

#Ferretbrain #Dan H #Ashes to Ashes #Life on Mars #Minority Warrior

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darkcloud-kcalifornia · 6 years

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Got something a bit different as far as me reacting to stuff this week. See last time I queued up a Nanoha episode while I was waiting for Paint.net and Word to load I scrolled down the video listings on Amazon and saw something odd. Apparently sometime in the early 80s somebody thought it would be a good idea to make a spoopy comedy titled “Saturday the 14th”. I have never heard of this one before, and the title combined with the time it was made makes me think this would likely best be enjoyed with the company of a couple of robot puppets. But I don’t have those, so I’m going this one alone. Welcome to an unexpected bad movie night this Saturday the 14th with… Saturday the 14th.

* Credits ain’t even rolled yet and we already have badly a badly animated wolf and bat in front of a rotoscoped house. Oh yeah, we’re dealing with “quality” here.

* So we open with creepy pedo vampire named Waldemar (don’t know how I’ll ever remember that name) trying to buy a house, and his wife being annoyed that he’s obviously being creepy pedo vampire in front of the real estate agent.

* So apparently there’s a problem with the house, involving some scene with “gags” about a rich person’s will telling various people to go &^%! themselves, and one couple, John and Mary, inherit a cured house. The lawyer gags and dies before he can mention what the curse is. Well, can’t fault the curse for efficiency.

* So apparently the naïve couple and their two kids are now moving into the house the vampire couple wants. The real estate agent tries to assure the vampires the family likely won’t stay for long. Waldemar’s wife agrees, ominously.

* The family dog Rover decides he wants nothing to do with this place. And the dog was the smartest of all.

* The son Billy disappears, and the couple assure themselves that this is like when they went to Disneyland and he hid inside of Pluto for 2 hours. Not Pluto’s house, Pluto. Guys, I think your son might be a furry.

* Of course shortly after entering the house a mirror falls down and breaks and a black cat runs by. This is a subtle movie.

* Ah, apparently Billy is an electrician furry. He was just off fixing the fuse box. Also, the daughter Debbie thinks boarding school sounds good right about now.

* Ah, so the vampire couple are after something in particular in that house. They are of course being dramatically vague about that.

* Huh, that’s a curse side effect I hadn’t thought of, and yet seems oddly appropriate. Every channel on the TV is playing The Twilight Zone. I’ll give the movie credit for that one.

* Mary seems surprisingly calm about her efforts to dust off the skull in the pantry.

* Uncle Henry left them a note before he died. In the fridge. About not opening “the book”. I can’t help but feel like it would have been better to tie that note to the book in question.

* Billy of course has found the Book of Evil. And opened it. Well at least this movie isn’t likely to go for tree rape, it’s only rated PG.

* John and Mary hear the sound of the real estate agent being mauled outside as they prepare for a lovely night together and assume the screams were an owl. I ain’t never heard no owl like that.

* Ain’t never seen no owl like that either.

* OK, that was a pretty decent exchange between Billy and John when the kid is screaming about a monster. “Act your age.” “I am acting my age. You’re just used to me acting like a grownup. I’m 10 years old and there’s a monster in here.”

* You can tell when Billy has given up all hope when his dad doesn’t notice the monster standing right behind him.

* And Mary got bit by one of the vampires while John was being useless.

* Billy has discovered that monsters don’t like the touch of the Book of Evil. Time for good old fashion book bashing.

* It’s got to do wonders for a kid’s self esteem to smack a large monster hard enough they go stumbling out the window.

* Waldemar is convinced that whoever controls the book controls the world. All hail Overlord Billy!

* I wonder which monster did the dishes.

* Why can’t I ever find rubber gloves large enough for my hands? Monsters apparently don’t have this problem.

* Fin pops out of the bubble bath while certain chords play that aren’t in any way similar to a certain shark’s theme. I’m sure it’s just a dolphin owl.

* OK movie, did we really need to see a barely teenage girl strip down for her bath? I sure hope the actress was 18 and just happened to look young. Because that scene ain’t right.

* Rubber ducky scare.

* Look mister, I don’t care if you’re not going to hurt her or don’t have any interest in her species, you don’t go around accosting young teens in the bath.

* Well, at least one policeman is close enough to try and do something. Advantage of having one as a neighbor I guess.

* Too bad the creature is freakishly durable, that cop nailed him right between the eyes with that gun shot.

* And the cop’s dead. Too bad, put up a surprisingly decent fight for a “caps are useless” point in a horror movie.

* Billy, if your sister dies now it’s all on you. You don’t stuff unconscious people into a tub with water, and then after having to drag them out to prevent drowning, try to do it again.

* So after Mary is nearly torn apart by bats owls, John calls an exterminator. And this exterminator has a Van Helsing working for him. I have the feeling that those other addresses mentioned mean something, but I hardly ever watch horror and thus can’t say.

* Helsing comes by to exterminate the bats (look for the book) and expects a guest room. And dinner. You don’t get rid of bats overnight. Doesn’t anybody have work ethic anymore?

* The monsters are outright gaslighting little Debbie at this point.

* Well Rosemary’s Baby got namechecked at least.

* Van Helsing is now completely convinced, the Book is here. And he’s now ranting about it at the dinner table. Awkward conversation topics. But at least it’s being brought out into the open now and Billy is admitting that he had it and opened it. Heck if he can find anything after his mom cleaned his room though.

* OK, that one was pretty funny. After Van Helsing asks John if he as any idea what kind of horrors would be in the house on Saturday the 14th (title drop!) after the Book has been opened, John thinks he should restrict the party guests to just the relatives.

* That night Waldemar uses mind control on the now partially-turned Mary to have her retrieve the book from wherever it was she hid the thing when she cleaned Billy’s room. Which… is actually a pretty good plan on Waldemar’s part. If anybody knows where the thing is now, it’d be her.

* Ah-ha! The linen closet! But as she’s now partially monster she can’t touch the thing. Which… makes me wonder how Waldemar was planning on using it. It’s not like he can touch it either if even Mary can’t when she’s still somewhat human.

* Waldemar’s wife is the jealous type. Not that she’s wrong…

* Monsters are so sloppy. Except for Wolfman. Wolfman seems to be stuck with the job of tidying up after the others. I do not envy Wolfman.

* I’m honestly surprised Debbie’s bladder held strong considering she was trying to make it to the bathroom before suddenly getting transported to the kitchen. Never did make it to that bathroom… er, because she just snuck back to her room, not because she got eviscerated or anything.

* Van Helsing: fully willing to take advantage of the fact that people will believe anything is possible from bubbling, smoky beakers.

* The fate of the world is potentially hinging on their ability to throw a good party so as to collect enough positive energy. We’re doomed.

* Well Debbie might have avoided an accident last night but unfortunately it seemed her mother ended up soiling the bed. (*ba-dum tssh*)

* Only a minute after meeting John’s relatives and Van Helsing is already convinced these people deserve anything that happens to them tonight.

* Who want to play “find the boy before the world ends”?

* Mary was planning on handling the Book… with oven mitts. And somebody else took it. Uh oh.

* Nice of the monsters to leave out the cop’s head where his wife could find it. Of course everybody in this film has blinders on.

* Who wants to bet Billy just went to the bathroom?

* Oh hey, the real estate agent is undead now.

* You know, the phrase “room temperature IQ” gets thrown around a lot these days, but…

* Oh hey, they found Billy! And he’s got the book! And is with Waldemar… and wearing a cape…

* And Van Helsing was a villain all along, as he too was in the book.

* OK, I think I just need to stae for the record that random sound effects rather than the usual vampiric hissing do not comedy make. This scene is just cringe-worthy.

* And so Van Helsing gets his hands on the book to destroy it and thus make sure the monsters can’t be imprisoned again, and that just kills the monsters and Van Helsing.

* And so Waldemar and his wife bid them a fond farewell and Rover comes back. The End.

Yeah, that was kind of a crappy ending. As for the rest of the movie, it was… meh? Certainly not the worst thing I’ve sat through, and there were a couple of decent jokes and lines in there. But a lot of the humor derived from how oblivious and stupid most of the people were, and that just gets old after a while. Still, if you want to watch a cheesy movie with bad effects and acting then feel free to give this one a go. Just be aware that you’d probably have a better time if you have friends to mock it with.

#movie musings #episode reactions #saturday the 14th

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