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averykedavra · 3 years

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Ever Slightly Out of Reach

So it’s been a hot second since I wrote anything, thanks to finals, and I wanted a quick warmup to get myself back in the groove. And that quick warmup may have turned out not-so-quick. That’s partly thanks to the great base prompt by @fanartfunart, which I fell in love with. I hope I stayed true to the spirit of the AU, and I hope you all enjoy this rambling plotless ghost fluff.

(Title from Still Here by Digital Daggers. This fic is on Ao3 here!)

Pairings: platonic Creativitwins

Words: 8068

Warnings: death mentions, injury mentions, possession (but a very consensual and low-key kind), arguing, some gross-out humor, and thunderstorms

It was a dark and stormy afternoon, and Remus was preparing to be possessed.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Roman said, floating in his favorite position above the foot of Remus’ bed. One of his legs dangled towards the floor. The other was nowhere to be found. “We should really do something else.”

“Don’t be a quitter,” Remus said. He combed his hair with his fingers. “It’s fun!”

“It’s not.”

“You like it,” Remus complained. “Last time, you squealed about getting to eat an apple.”

“Yeah, but--” Roman winced. “You feel all greasy. It’s like I’m stuck in a--really dirty oven mitt.”

“Hey!”

“You probably haven’t showered for days.” Roman flopped upside down and his mist tinted red. “Did you even wash your hands after lunch?”

Remus looked down at his hands. His nails still had dirt stuck under them in little crescent moons. Yesterday, he’d dug up weeds from the garden and brought them to show Roman. The mess was always part of the fun.

“I didn’t wash my hands,” Remus admitted, “but it’s no biggie--”

“Ew!” Roman interrupted, folding his arms until they blended together. “And I knew it! You never wash your hands! You don’t even do it after you pick your nose!”

Remus grinned and shoved his finger into his nose, just for fun.

“Ew!” Roman yelled louder. “Grow up!”

“I’m already nine,” Remus said triumphantly, poking the finger a bit further to see if he could feel his brains. “Nine and one whole quarter.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I’m way older than you. Shut it, doodoo head.”

“You shut it!” Remus yanked his finger out of his nose and wiped it on his sash. Roman cringed. “You’re gonna go inside this doodoo head and you’re gonna like it.”

Roman huffed. But Remus knew he wasn’t really mad, ‘cause when Roman got real mad, the furniture wasn’t on the ground anymore.

“Come on,” Remus pleaded, flopping onto the carpet. He gave Roman his best give-me-candy-I’m-a-good-boy look. “You know you wanna. We’ll only do it for like six seconds and it’ll be hilarious.”

“It’s not funny,” Roman said.

“Prove it.” Remus popped back upright and kicked his bare feet in the air. “Possess me.”

“No.”

“Come on! You’re worse than Mom!” Remus rolled his eyes until the whites showed. “I’m gonna go back to school tomorrow and I wanna do this now! Before I’ve got homework and stuff. And if you practice, you’ll get really good, and we could go all sorts of places together!”

Roman shivered. “I don’t want to go anywhere in your gross head.”

“I’m awesome for possessing,” Remus said. He tried to imitate the commercials on TV and in-between videos about car explosions. “I’m cool, I’m smart, I have cool hair, I’ve had a whole entire boyfriend--”

“That was in kindergarten,” Roman said. “It doesn’t count.”

“It does too!”

“Does not!”

“And I’m awesome,” Remus said, forcing himself away from an argument. “And I have ten whole fingers and ten whole toes. You have, like, five. Tops.”

Roman counted his currently-visible fingers. “Seven.”

“See?” Remus pointed at him. “And--and! And I have a cool outfit. So I’m the best for possessing.”

Roman gave Remus a look. An I-don’t-want-to-be-mean look. Remus knew that look from teachers who didn’t like his drawings. And classmates who thought he was freaky. And his parents when they tried to tell him again that Roman wasn’t real, Remus was just making up an imaginary friend, and shouldn’t he try to go play with some kids his own age?

Remus knew, though. He knew he wasn’t making Roman up. Two years of being besties wasn’t made-up, and just because nobody else could see Roman didn’t mean Roman wasn’t there. Sometimes things stayed in houses without people noticing. Like stains. Or the slug Remus kept in a shoebox. If his parents didn’t know about the slug, it made sense that they might not know about Roman, either.

Typical grownups. Thought they knew everything.

Roman was nice, because he actually did know stuff. Not stuff like how TVs worked--Remus had tried to explain it, Roman just didn’t get it--but other stuff. Stuff he wouldn’t tell Remus sometimes.

“How’d you die?” Remus asked, instead of trying to remember what he’d just been talking about. He hadn’t asked yet today. Maybe this time it’d work.

“Quicksand,” Roman said.

Could be true. “How?”

“I fell into it.” Roman was definitely telling a story now. He got all dramatic whenever he made something up. “It was a sad, sad day.”

“Why’d you fall into quicksand?” Remus asked, sitting on the carpet and pulling at the threads. “Seems kinda stupid if you ask me.”

“Hey!” Roman said. “I didn’t fall, I was pushed.”

“You said you fell!”

“I said wrong!” Roman huffed, and red flickered around his eyes. “I got pushed because my uncle wanted the kingdom for himself. Quicksand is really cold, actually. All my bones got filled with sand one by one, and it tasted super gross.”

“Did your eye sockets get filled up too?” Remus asked.

Roman nodded. “And my ear sockets. And then I died.”

Remus decided that was a good enough story, and accepted it at face value. “That does sound real gross.”

“It was.” Roman snickered. “Almost as gross as being in your head.”

“Hey!” Remus jumped up. “Look, if you don’t like my head, you can go sit in the living room and talk to all the grownups. But we’ve done this before! You possessed me on accident--”

“I said I was sorry,” Roman mumbled.

“--and then you did it on purpose a couple times, and it was really cool, it was like--” Remus waved his hands and smashed them together. “Bam! You and me all in one brain! And I wanna do it again, so we can figure out how it works, and we can do it for longer!”

Roman raised an eyebrow until it disappeared. “Why?”

“So you can--” Remus gestured at him. “We could do stuff together!”

“We already do stuff together.”

“No, like--” Remus glanced out the window. He could just see the road in the distance. The bus stop was right across the street. He’d have to stand there tomorrow, even if it was still raining. “I know you never leave the house, but if you were me, we could--”

Roman’s eyes hardened. “No.”

Remus faltered. “I just thought--”

Roman immediately looked guilty. He shifted back and forth in midair, and for a few seconds, he almost disappeared altogether. Then he stabilized. Bright white, small, and still just Remus’ height--Roman never explained why they’d been growing together, and maybe he didn’t know. Or maybe it was just another thing Roman wouldn’t tell him.

For a best friend, Roman kept a lot of secrets.

But still. Maybe that was just how friends were. Remus didn’t really have a lot of experience.

“It’s okay,” Roman said to where his feet would probably be. “I just--fine. I’ll possess you, alright? If you really wanna. I’ll wear your weird outfit and everything. But you owe me a favor.”

Remus squealed and twirled around. He didn’t even care that Roman insulted his outfit. He didn’t care about the favor, either--Remus owed Roman like twenty favors by now, it was fine. Remus had time to pay him back later. Roman wasn’t exactly going anywhere.

“This is gonna be great!” Remus blurted out, gesturing for Roman to join him on the carpet. “Okay, you can do it whenever, and you can pop out whenever! But go ahead and try to do stuff while you’re me! So we can see how it works.”

Roman nodded a bit, floating just above the carpet. “So...now?”

“Now,” Remus said. “Unless you’re too chicken--I’m not a chicken!”

Roman’s voice, Remus’ mouth. Roman was gone from the carpet. Remus stood alone in his room.

Remus grinned. “Awesome.”

His grin twisted into an annoyed smirk, followed by an “If you say so.”

It really was awesome. Being possessed was like when you sat in one place for too long and your legs fell asleep. It tingled all over his skin. It made him kinda slow to move and slow to think, and it felt a bit like he was floating, just like Roman could. His head was dizzy and the room was deeper than it used to be, like Remus could see it from every angle, and the rain drummed louder and louder.

“This is so cool,” Remus whispered. It took a second for the words to work, even though Roman quickly let him talk. “You wanna try and move?”

“You can move,” Roman said back, seeming to retreat from Remus’ legs. Remus kicked his foot at the carpet. “I’m not good at walking anymore.”

“Practice makes perfect!” Remus concentrated and tried to shove Roman into the legs again. Go in there, go in there, come on--

“Don’t think so loud.” Roman huffed and rolled Remus’ eyes. “Fine. I’ll try to walk. Don’t grab control until I’m done, though, ‘cause you’ll make us both fall over.”

Remus mimed zipping his lips. The next second, he was pulled closer into himself and away from his skin. He felt his legs move. Roman walked with an awkward wobble--probably because he didn’t have legs most of the time--and a kind of glide. Remus tried very hard not to interrupt Roman. He sucked in his breath and watched patiently.

Roman had managed to walk them halfway across the room. He was picking up speed now, seeming to remember how it worked when gravity existed, and Remus felt his mouth twist in a smile. They walked past the window, Roman skimming fingers across the pane and leaving water on Remus’ hands. Around and around. Roman knew this place, Remus started to feel--he knew where the door was and how many steps it took to get there. He knew how to dash around corners, he knew where to kick the doors, he knew the creakiest floorboards. He’d just forgotten.

“You wanna go downstairs?” Remus asked, trying his hardest to keep his control from spreading to his legs. “We could get a snack.”

“Good idea!” Roman sounded excited. He always sounded excited. Why did he complain about possession stuff anyway? He clearly liked to be in Remus’ head, and he liked to be able to walk around, and he was good at it. Remus didn’t even have to worry, ‘cause Roman knew where to go--

And they both crashed into the wall.

Remus fell onto the floor. His knee banged something on the way down, and it started to hurt, especially when he grabbed it to see what was wrong.

“Ow!” Remus complained. The words hit no barrier. “Ow, fudge-popsicle-muffin-nugget, what the frick?”

“Sorry!” Roman was crumpled next to him, adjusting his sash. The stupid muffin probably left as soon as things started to hurt. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Why’d you lead us into the wall?” Remus inspected his knee. It wasn’t quite scream-for-Mom worthy--no blood--but maybe he’d put a bandaid on it, just in case. “That hurt, stupid.”

“There wasn’t a wall there!” Roman complained.

Remus pointed at the very obvious wall.

“I mean there didn’t use to be one.” Roman drifted upright. He did look sorry about it, which made Remus less annoyed. “That’s where the door used to be. I got mixed up.”

“It’s been at least two years.” Remus pulled himself to his feet. His knee still stung, but not that bad. “Get used to the new door, weirdo.”

“I never have to use it!” Roman floated halfway through the wall as an example. The wallpaper curled slightly, like he’d lit a fire next to it. “Not my fault that you guys put all the things in different places. I never know how to get anywhere anymore!”

Remus blew a raspberry at him. “Maybe look around you, weener. It’s your house, you gotta know it.”

Roman glared at the wall. “Doesn’t feel like my house.”

After a second, Remus clapped his hands. “Can’t have you walk around in my body if you’re gonna ride it off a cliff, so--guess we’re done?”

“We’re done,” Roman said, looking relieved. “I’m spared your terrible fashion sense.”

“Hey!” Remus grabbed his sash protectively. “I made this outfit myself and I love it and you can shut your hole.”

“Okay, okay.” Roman drifted over to the bed and stretched his arms. “What do we do now?”

Remus hummed, looking between Roman and the door. It was still raining. It was the last day of summer vacation--not the last last day, but tomorrow Remus was gonna get a new backpack, and that was fun but it didn’t have Roman. Roman never came shopping with him. So Remus got one day before Roman would be stuck in the house all alone.

He could try to get Roman to come along, but he didn’t wanna waste the afternoon.

Remus looked back at the door. Had it really been in a different place? Remus knew that all the furniture was different now, especially in the living room, but he didn’t know about the doors. He didn’t know much about the house at all. It was too big--good for hide and seek, bad for understanding. Sometimes Remus wished he had a house GPS.

Actually--

“I’ve got an idea,” Remus said. “Do you wanna make a map?”

“A map?” Roman asked. He already looked interested. “Like a treasure map?”

“No, a map of the house! From bottom to top!”

Roman tilted his head. “Why?”

“So we don’t get lost!” Remus hopped in place. “You can know the way around, and so can I! It’ll be fun, come on, come on come on come on--”

“That does sound like an adventure,” Roman said slowly.

“Yeah!” Remus nodded his head as fast as he could. “We can make a whole big map and we can both draw on it! It can be like a treasure map, except it’s just the whole house all the way through!”

Roman smiled. “We’ll need a lot of paper, right?”

“Woo!” Remus cheered. He always felt great when Roman liked his ideas. “Let’s go-go-go!”

“Paper,” Roman said as Remus threw open the door. “And pencils.”

“I bet Mom has some!” Remus waved his hands. “Come on, Ro, don’t waste time!”

“I’ve got all the time,” Roman teased, but he followed Remus into the hallway.

Remus was really good at getting places fast. Why wait and walk somewhere, if you could get to the cool place in half the time? He kicked off the edge of the carpet, slid and sped down the hallway, jumped past the other bedrooms, and barely paused at the staircase. Up onto the banister, a little push, and then down!

The rooms spun past him in a spiral, his feet flying, and he giggled wildly as he slipped towards the first floor. Whenever he tilted too hard in one direction, the wind pushed him back into place. Remus could go as fast as he liked, because Roman was there to keep him on course. He could never fall without Roman catching him.

When the banister tapered off in a swirl, Remus catapulted himself off the edge, rolling onto the carpet and springing back up. Roman grinned at him when he solidified enough to have a mouth. Remus didn’t wait for the rest of his face. He barreled across the tiles, skidded around the corner, and burst into the kitchen.

“Mom! Mom-Mom-Mom!” Remus darted over and tugged at her arm. “Mom!”

“What is it?” she asked. She’d been leaning on the counter, checking her phone. “What do you need, Remus?”

“Do you have paper?” Remus spread his hands wide. “Like, super big paper?”

“There should be some in the attic.” She frowned. “What are you up to?”

“Nothin’.” Remus glanced over to Roman, who was curiously poking at the window boxes. “We’re just gonna draw something, is all.”

“We--” Her mouth worked for a few seconds, like she had a lollipop stuck to her tongue. “Oh. Are you sure you don’t want to do something else for your last day of vacation? Go for a walk? It can’t be good for that brain of yours to be cooped up inside.”

Remus knocked on his skull. “It seems fine to me. And it’s raining out!”

“I think it’ll stop for a bit later,” Mom said unconvincingly. “I--I’m just not sure if you want to run around in the house all day. You spend too much time inside it already.”

“I do not.” Remus pouted. “I like it here!”

“I’m glad you do.” She drummed her fingers on the counter before sighing. “Maybe you’ll make some friends at school.”

“Don’t need any friends,” Remus said. “I’ve got a friend.”

“Right. Right.” Mom rubbed her eyes. “Like I said, the paper is in the attic. You might want to ask your father for help with it. And don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I won’t!”

“I know how much that’s worth.” She slipped her phone into her pocket and grabbed a spatula. “Holler if you need me.”

“I will!” Remus gestured to Roman, who reluctantly floated away from the window. “Come on, Ro, we haven’t got all day!”

Accompanied by a long sigh that melted into the wind, Remus and Roman left the kitchen.

“You’ll have to go back in, if you want to make a map,” Roman pointed out.

“I know what the kitchen looks like.” Remus scoffed. “Stove, oven, fridge, things I’m not allowed to touch. Easy-peasy.”

He hopped up the stairs two at a time. Roman drifted along the banister and peeked at the rooms below. Whenever he flipped upside down, his hair pooled around his face like a cloud of smoke. Remus idly batted at him. Roman felt like nothing. Nothing and warm.

“She said the stuff’s in the attic,” Remus said, hopping off the stairs and barreling down the hallway to the other stairs. “And that’s got the fun trapdoor, right?”

“We broke the trapdoor,” Roman said. “It’s just a hole now.”

“Not my fault it can’t handle paintballs.” Remus scrambled up the other stairs. “But Mom said that’s got the paper, so you and I can go get it.”

“She also said you have to ask your dad.”

“She’s stupid.”

“I can just get the paper.” Roman flickered and appeared farther up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t--” Remus didn’t even manage to finish the sentence before Roman was gone. A bit of mist curled from the landing. It drifted to the window, slipped through the glass, and disappeared into the rain. So Roman’s mist could go outside, but Roman couldn’t? What kind of rules were there? Why did Roman never get to go where Remus could?

Remus shivered. It got cold easily in the house. Something about drafts. He felt very small on the staircase, alone, scuffing the red carpet with his toes.

Roman would be back soon. He always got back soon. Roman used to go all sorts of places without Remus, until Remus got tired of trying to find him every time he woke up. Ghosts were better than people, but ghosts were harder to find when they got lost. Remus used to worry that Roman would get really lost. So lost that Remus wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, and he’d forget that Roman was real. And he wouldn’t have any friends, and he’d just be alone in the cold stupid house.

Remus didn’t worry that anymore. At least, he thought he didn’t. Now, with the gray light shining through the windows, he felt ants in his intestines.

“Wait up!” Remus called, and ran after Roman.

He caught up right beneath the attic. Roman was right--it was still a hole. A square hole above the bookcase, with foldable stairs squeezed next to the books.

“Ro!” Remus yelled.

A thump or two, and a misty face reappeared. In the dark, Roman glowed, like glow-in-the-dark shoes. “What?”

“Can I come up?” Remus asked.

“I’m almost done!” Roman disappeared. Another few thumps shook the ceiling. “Catch!”

A pad of paper fell through the hole. Remus tried to catch it, failed, and grabbed it before Roman could notice.

“That’s all I could find.” Pencils and pens rained from the hole, followed by a smaller notebook. “Does it work?”

Remus frowned at the paper. It was small, only about the size of a poster. “Can we fit the whole house on here?”

“We could go room by room.” Roman drifted down to Remus, aimed wrong, and stuck his arm through Remus’ shoulder. Remus laughed and swatted the air. Roman adjusted himself. “Make one map for each room.”

“I guess.” That wouldn’t help with finding rooms, but this was about Roman knowing where the doors were. Remus didn’t want Roman to get lost while Remus was gone. “That works.”

“Fantastic!” Roman looked around. “Which room first?”

“Top to bottom?” Remus pointed at the ceiling. “Let’s start with the attic.”

It took several tries for Roman to lift Remus through the hole. Remus almost hit his head on the side, making Roman drop him out of panic, making Remus almost hit his head on the floor. Roman caught him, of course, but it took another minute for Remus to get Roman to try again. Finally, Remus squeezed through the hole. Floating felt like going up an elevator. If the elevator was wobbly, invisible, and complained a lot.

The attic was a nest of boxes. Every piece of cardboard was labeled, some in writing that Remus didn’t recognize. Old photos. Old jewelry. Old spiderwebs. The stuff in front, Remus knew. Holiday stuff, and extra silverware, and Mom’s favorite Passover sweater. Beyond that, though, was a sea of boxes that hadn’t been touched in years. Remus had explored a few of them, and he’d seen all kinds of old stuff, the kind that was probably worth a lot online. Maybe Mom and Dad should sell it. Roman might get upset, though--Roman didn’t like it when stuff got lost.

Remus cleared a space in the center of the attic and unfolded a piece of paper. He handed Roman a pencil. Roman dropped it by accident. Remus gave Roman another pencil.

“Okay, so we’re gonna draw a square like this.” Remus drew a square as neatly as he could. “And then we add the windows and the doors, and then all the stuff inside the room, and we can label it so we know what’s what!”

Roman nodded. “Can I add sparkles?”

“There aren’t any sparkles in the room.”

“There should be.”

“Add sparkles or whatever.” Remus grinned. “I’m gonna add poop. And lots of spooky ghosts with big pointy teeth.”

“Except I’m saving you from them,” Roman corrected, “since I’m the knight! They’re no match for me.”

“No, they’re my friends too!” Remus waved his hands. “They’re my army! I’ve got a ghost army and they give me cookies and think I’m cool.”

Roman pouted. “I already do that!”

“You’re a dork.”

“Am not!”

Remus snickered and started drawing some of the boxes. Roman doodled around the edges, crossed out some of Remus’ lines, and wrote labels in shaky handwriting. Remus made the room too small on the page, so there was lots of room for extra drawings around the edges. Remus drew three frogs, five rats, and seven ghosts with pointy teeth and blood in their eyeballs. And an octopus, but it didn’t look right.

When they’d managed to fill the whole paper, Remus checked the map against the room. All the boxes were there, plus the one small window at the other end, between slopes of wood. It was still raining. Remus couldn’t move without the floor creaking, and he could barely stand up all the way.

“Where next?” Remus asked, rolling up the map.

“Downstairs,” Roman said, “one room at a time.”

The first bedroom. Most of the bedrooms on the top floors were empty, and the dust made Roman look smudged. This bedroom had a small raggedy doll in one corner and a faded pink bed. When Remus kicked the carpet, it came apart at the edge. The windows overlooked the backyard, which sloped past the gardens and shed before hitting the woods with a crunch. They labeled the map ‘Bedroom’ and Roman drew flowers in the margins. One of the pencils rolled under the pink bed and Remus almost bumped his head trying to get it back.

The first bathroom. It didn’t have a sink anymore, and the toilet was still clogged from the time Remus tried to flush lasagna down it. The whole place smelled like lasagna. Maybe Remus should tell Dad about it, but that’d mean getting in trouble, so he plugged his nose and drew a map. Since there wasn’t much floor, and the tiles looked like barf, Remus put the map against the mirror. The mirror had a long crack in it that made his lines go skewed. He labeled it ‘Lasagna Bathroom.’ Roman drew stink waves coming from the toilet.

Another bedroom. The bed used to have a canopy, but the fabric was gone, leaving a little roof of wood. Remus tried to climb it. He almost got to the top until Roman yanked him back down. Party pooper. Old coats were in the closets, and the drawers were lined with lace. When Remus tried to open the window, the rust yelled. Remus labeled it ‘Canopy Bedroom’ and Roman told him that he spelled canopy wrong. Remus chucked a pen through Roman’s forehead.

Office. Probably where someone did their homework. Remus sat in the chair and kicked at the legs, and Roman ruffled the papers until they flew all over the desk. There wasn’t any ink, or any quill pens, which would have been cool. Remus liked this room because of the clock in the corner. It was broken. Roman said the hands showed the time as two-thirty. Remus wondered what happened at two-thirty. The desk made the map easy to draw on. ‘Clock Room.’ Doodles of dragons in the margins, because Roman got distracted.

They skidded down the stairs and hopped into Remus’ own bedroom. Remus had fought tooth and nail for a bedroom on the third floor, ‘cause he didn’t want Mom and Dad hearing when he brought cool stuff into the room. That map was easy to make. Then was the nursery next door, where babies were probably made, and then the other bathroom. This one didn’t smell like lasagna, which made it better, but the bathtub was yellow, which made it worse. The final room was stripped of furniture. It made for a quick map.

The maps were piling up now. Remus kept them in one tube of paper under his arm. Roman had managed to lose half their pencils. When they scrambled into Mom and Dad’s room, Remus began to poke at the closet before realizing Dad was already there. He dragged Roman back out and proceeded to make up the rest of the map. Roman said it would ruin the accuracy. Remus said that they didn’t need to go in that room anyway, and that if they wanted to finish the maps before dinner, they’d have to hurry.

“How much different is it?” Remus asked in the second bedroom, trying on an old bathrobe. It made him feel like a duke. Maybe he would cut it up and put it in his outfit later. “What’s new about the house?”

“The furniture you brought,” Roman said, drifting above the wardrobe with a pencil in hand. “And bits of the third floor have been changed, because of water damage, I think? They added electricity, and all the bathrooms used to be closets.”

“What? Really?” Remus didn’t know that. “Where were the bathrooms, then?”

“Outside!” Roman laughed at Remus’ face. “In the outhouses, obviously.”

“You pooped in the forest?”

“Not on the forest floor.”

“You pooped in forest toilets?”

“No!” Roman laughed harder. “We didn’t have toilets! We’d poop in a hole!”

“Ew!” Remus said gleefully. “Ugh, I wish I was alive back then, I wanna poop in a hole.”

“You really don’t,” Roman said.

Remus still drew poop-holes on the edge of the map. Roman stuck out his tongue and called him “Revolting.”

“Is it weird?” Remus asked as they mapped out the living room. Big green couch, several lamps, Dad’s recliner, pile of junk on the table. “To have no poop-holes? Or no doors?”

“I don’t always notice,” Roman said. “I can just walk through walls where the doors used to be, and I don’t need to poop. But--yeah, it’s strange.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt. Clouds came away in his fingers. “I suppose everything’s changed a lot since I--got eaten by an alligator.”

“Alligator?” Remus asked.

“It’s a painful tale.” Roman dramatically screwed up his face. “I can hardly bear to recall.”

“Oki-dokey artichoke-y,” Remus said. “And yeah, things have probably changed all over the place. I’m gonna go to fourth grade, but it’ll be nothing like your fourth grade. We’ll learn different things.”

“I suppose so.” Roman doodled small circles in the margins of the map, circles and circles, like a million tornadoes stuck together. “You’ll have to tell me what it’s like.”

“Or you could come and see?”

The circles grew closer together. Tornadoes circling the map. Remus wondered what a tornado would feel like. Didn’t they just pick stuff up and drop it again? Would it be like getting picked up by Roman--tingling and stomach-dropping, everything in limbo?

“It’s really not so bad,” Remus said, falling into his old job of convincing Roman to do stuff. Usually, it was easy. Roman liked having things to do, even illegal ones. “Sometimes the teachers give us candy for the right answer. If you poke an eraser with a pencil, it gets little gray holes.”

Roman looked about to make little gray holes in the paper. Remus tugged the map away from him before he could ruin it.

“I’m just saying,” Remus said. “You could possess me or whatever, or you could just float around and hang out. It’d be fun!”

“I can’t leave the house,” Roman said firmly.

“Who says you can’t?”

“Me.”

“Then say you can!”

“I’m not going to.” Roman tossed the pencil at the map. “You should erase the couch. It’s on the wrong side.”

Remus scribbled out the couch and put it in the right place, but now all the other bits of furniture were wrong. “Friends go to school with each other.”

“Human friends do.” Roman was flashing red all over now, and Remus didn’t know whether he was upset or angry or just in the mood for red. “Thought you liked ghost ones better.”

Remus was pretty sure that meant ‘I thought you liked me better.’

And he did. He liked Roman way better. But--there were perks about human friends. Parents didn’t make fun of them behind their backs. They were easier to shove when they were being jerks. And they didn’t go missing so easily. It was harder to lose a person, because they were all flesh and blood and heartbeat. Ghosts were easier to lose. They were just sky with eyes and a nose. Just air.

Playing hide-and-seek was fun, but only when it was a game they agreed on. Only when everyone knew the rules. Only when Remus could give up and Roman would float out of a closet with a pie-eating grin. Hide-and-seek wasn’t fun if someone just kept hiding. It wasn’t fun if someone had to get left behind.

Ghosts were better than people. So far, ghosts had been nicer, and cooler, and better at drawing. So far, ghosts had stuck around.

But ghosts couldn’t go to school. Ghosts couldn’t go shopping. Ghosts couldn’t eat potato chips or a latke or a really good cookie. Ghosts disappeared and Remus had to go find them. Ghosts needed maps or they’d get lost in their own house.

Remus liked Roman. That made things hard sometimes.

Circles and circles, a tornado all around the living room. They were almost done with the maps, unless they wanted to map out the yard as well, and it was raining too hard for that. Plus, Roman never left the house.

Remus stared at the maps. Maybe Roman was worried he’d get lost.

Maybe a map would help with that.

“We’ve just got a few rooms left,” Remus said. “And then we’ve got the shed, and then we’re done!”

“Great!” Roman looked happy at the change of topic. “Do we really need the shed, though? It’s not inside the house.”

“It’s still a building.” Remus gathered up the map and led the way to the dining room. “We can go outside and sketch the shed, just to get all the maps we need.”

Roman looked outside. “The weather’s bad. You’ll need your rain boots.”

“What’s the fun if you can’t splash in the puddles?” Remus set a new page of the map on the dining room table. Roman began to draw food around the edges. “And once we’ve gone to the shed and back, we could make this into a huge book, if we wanted. Color the pages and everything.”

Roman hummed, occupied with shading the edge of a blueberry. Remus checked the window. The rain actually seemed to be stopping. Definitely a good sign!

The dining room drawing was quick. After the entrance hall, the closet, the back room, and the kitchen--which they drew from memory, to avoid Mom--the maps were almost complete. A dozen pages of color and line, a true masterpiece, with several bad words written very small under the doodles. Remus tried to high-five Roman. For obvious reasons, the high-five did not work.

“Just the shed now!” Remus tucked the roll of maps under his arm and bounced to the back door. “Okay--raincoat, boots, umbrella? No room--”

“It isn’t raining so much,” Roman said. “Still, be careful, there could be lightning.”

“Nah, we’ll be okay, just in and out!” Remus tugged on his rain boots. They had little ducks on them. “And ghosts can’t get hit by lightning anyway.”

“You can.”

“I’m not a coward.” Remus pulled his raincoat over his shoulders. It felt like wax. When the back door opened, rain dripped from the doorway and dampened the mat. “Oh, those are some wicked puddles! Maybe I can go puddle-stomping later.”

“Don’t get the maps wet.” Roman motioned to the doorway. “Go ahead.”

Remus stepped through the doorway. A small path led past the boring plant garden, through the less-boring flower garden, and down the slopes of grass. The shed was nestled by the edge of the woods. It had a tin roof, and Remus could already hear the ping-ping of raindrops on it.

“Come on,” Remus said, wiping droplets from his hair. The rain was manageable enough. The grass squelched under his boots. “Ro?”

Roman looked confused. “I’m not coming.”

“You’re not?” Remus’ face fell. “Why not?”

“It’s outside of the house?” Roman sounded like he didn’t get it. “I don’t go outside the house.”

“It’s barely outside,” Remus said. “It’s, like, still in the yard.”

Roman moved away from the door.

“Come on.” Remus didn’t want to beg like a baby, but Roman needed to get out here, he needed to go outside. “I can’t do the map without you. You need to draw on it!”

“I can doodle when you get back!”

“No!” Remus yelled. “No, that’s not the right order!”

“Well, I’m not going!” Roman yelled back at him. “Leave me alone, Remus!”

Remus screwed up his face. “You’re being stupid! It’s just a stupid yard. I’ll be with you the whole fricking time. What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t leave the house!”

“Why can’t you?” Remus almost screamed. “If you want me to get it, actually tell me what you know! Stop being so vague and tell me stuff!”

Roman looked about to cry. Could ghosts cry? Did Remus want to find out? “I said, leave me alone!”

“Fine!” Remus turned on his heel. “Fine, I’ll do the rest of the stupid map on my own. I’ll go to school on my own and leave you here to sulk, just like you want. Have fun. See if I care.”

Roman might have said something. Remus decided not to hear it.

The yard was muddy. In a better mood, Remus would have smeared some mud over his face. Instead he just kicked at it. Kick, kick, kick, all the way past the stupid plants and the still-stupid flowers. All the way down the stupid grass to the stupid shed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It was cold outside. Remus felt cold in his rain coat, and wet, even though his skin was dry. The maps crinkled under his arm. The sky boiled with dark clouds. When he glanced back, Roman was still standing in the door, a flash of white and red against the coats and the darkness. Remus stuck his tongue out. Stupid ghost. He wished he couldn’t see Roman, like everyone else.

Remus didn’t waste time making the shed map look nice. No point, if Roman was never gonna use it. ‘Shed.’ No doodles. A wonky square with some sticks for the garden tools and some circles for the sacks of hay. It all looked stupid. It wasn’t a good map. Didn’t matter, though, ‘cause Roman never went anywhere.

The shed was cold and empty. It was dark, too, lit only by a lightbulb. The rain ping-ping-pinged at the roof. The wood shivered. Remus’ face felt very red and very hot. Count to ten, Mom always said when he got mad. One. Two. Three. Four. And he knew the rest.

Maybe he’d learn more numbers in fourth grade. Third grade had been up to a hundred or two hundred. Maybe they’d make it even further. There were infinite numbers, right? They’d never run out of numbers. They’d just run out of time.

Fourth grade was gonna be no fun if Roman wasn’t there.

Remus rolled up the map and stuck it under his arm. When he opened the shed door, the wind rustled the edges of the papers. His fingers felt cold and wet, like bits of popsicle. The house teetered on the hill. He could see all the windows, all the rooms they’d went to--the bedrooms, the bathroom with lasagna in the toilet, the stairs, the living room. Remus’ own bedroom. It all kind of made sense when he looked at it from the outside. It was like a tier cake. Room on top of room.

It looked like a haunted house, with the trees around it black and shadowy, waving in the wind. With birds flying across the wild grey sky. It was a haunted house. Roman was still there, a smudge of white, and Remus wondered why he got to see him. Why they stayed the same height and looked the same age. Why Roman had gotten stuck here in the first place, with no one to keep him company.

If Remus died, he’d want to see the world. He would never want to stay just where he’d started. What was the point of being a ghost if you didn’t do anything new?

Maybe he should ask Roman that. Maybe this time it’d work.

Remus climbed up the hill towards the house.

The wind picked up, blowing at his back. He adjusted the map and kept moving. It took all his strength to keep his boots from sticking in the mud, and all his self-control not to face-plant into the mud. The trees blew behind him, and when he looked back, he saw he’d left the shed light on. It glowed yellow next to the woods. It made him feel even colder.

Rain was starting to fall again. It was going to storm again. Of course it was. Remus was going to have a rainy, wet, no-good last day of summer. Stuck inside the house. It couldn’t be good for him.

It couldn’t be good for either of them.

But here they were.

“Hi,” was all that Roman said when Remus reached the doorway.

“Got the map.” Remus’ nose was starting to run. “It’s cold out there.”

“Close the door.” Roman poked curiously at the papers, avoiding Remus’ eyes. “Can I see it?”

Remus handed Roman the stack of maps. Roman leafed through them, pausing at the shed one, then skimmed the rest. The rain began to pick up outside. Water dripped from Remus’ boots onto the floor.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Roman asked.

“What?”

“I can’t find the map of our bedroom.” Roman looked confused. “Did you leave it in the house somewhere?”

Remus felt cold again. “I--I don’t think so.”

Roman looked past him. Remus turned around to see rain beginning to fall on the grass, and a long trampled walk back to the shed.

“I dropped it,” Remus realized. “Oh no, I dropped it--it’s gonna get all wet!”

“It’s okay,” Roman said, sounding like he didn’t know whether it actually was. “You know the way around your bedroom.”

“You bumped into the wall,” Remus said. He scanned the grass for any sign of the map. Nothing was there. It could have fallen into mud, or gotten crumpled, or blown away in the wind. “We need that! And I just lost it! I gotta get it back, Ro--”

“We’ll make another one.” Roman looked sympathetic. “It’s okay--”

“We don’t have time to make another one!” Humiliatingly, Remus felt his eyes burn. “‘Cause we’re eating dinner soon, and then I gotta go tomorrow for shopping, and then I’ve got school! And you gotta have the map by then, so you don’t get lost when I’m gone!”

Roman flickered red. “What?”

“I gotta get it.” Remus shoved the rest of the maps towards Roman. They fell through him and hit the floor. “If you’d been there, I wouldn’t have dropped them.”

Roman looked hurt. “You might have anyway.”

“Yeah, I might have anyway, shut your hole. No one cares.” Remus made a frustrated noise. “Fine, it’s all my fault and I got the map ruined. Shut up. I gotta go get it.”

Before Roman could argue, Remus stepped into the rain. It was coming down faster now. The map would probably be halfway ruined already. If he could find it, though, he’d be able to dry it. And Roman would know where the door was.

But he’d lost the map. It was lost somewhere in the backyard, stuck somewhere between grey skies and grey grass and grey rain. Remus couldn’t see it. He squinted and he cupped his eyes and he blinked the water from his eyelashes, but he couldn’t see it. There wasn’t a single flash of white.

A rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Get back inside,” Roman called. “This is dangerous.”

“I can’t find it!” Remus yelled back. He sounded panicked. Was he panicking? “I can’t find it, Ro, I need to find it--I don’t wanna leave it here--”

Another rumble of thunder. Remus was cold. He didn’t even want to walk deeper into the yard. The woods were dark and the shed was flickering and he felt frozen in his boots. His skin tingled. His breath froze.

And then the world deepened.

Two sides to everything. Like he’d grown extra eyes. It always felt like this--like a video with more pixels, or cooler colors, or binoculars attached. He could never pinpoint what he could see. He just knew it was--more than usual.

The world was a riot of color and darkness, swirling like a tornado, and Remus laughed.

“Thanks,” he said as he took a step forward.

Or tried to. “Don’t,” he hissed back at himself in Roman’s voice. “I am not going to try walking again. We’re just looking right now. Look around.”

Remus looked.

Hide-and-seek. If he was a map, where would he hide?

Color. Darkness and scribbles and circles going around, but that was all in the margins, that didn’t matter. Thunder rumbled. He didn’t jump. The rain seemed to go right through him.

White.

A piece of white, like a flag, stuck in the boring plant garden.

Remus whooped. Or maybe it was Roman who did. Who knew?

“Can I walk now?” he asked, and Roman groaned in response. Remus’ boots loosened. He ran through the rain and grabbed the map with one hand, swiping at it with a wet hand, until he realized that did no good. The colors were running. He tucked it into his raincoat, and the raincoat smeared across his hand as well, the paper leaking white and red.

Too much. Way too much. Maybe there’d been a reason that Roman didn’t want to do this. Everything was double, switching and colliding, holes opening and spinning dizzily in the air.

“It’s okay,” Roman said with Remus’ mouth. “Close your eyes, I’ll find our way back.”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut.

And Roman guided them back to the door.

When the rain stopped, so did the dizziness. Remus almost fell against the wall. Roman collapsed against the opposite one, running his hands through his hair and pulling at his sleeves. The door slammed shut. Maybe that was Roman, or maybe it was the wind that began to howl at the house. A bad storm. They’d been lucky to avoid it.

“Is the map okay?” Remus opened his eyes and peeled the paper away from his raincoat. “Oh frick, it’s all smeared.”

“It looks fine to me.” Roman drifted over and traced the edges. “All my doodles are dry, and I can see where everything is.”

Remus blinked the water out of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, so can I.”

“Good job,” Roman said, and Remus looked over at him. “It’s a nice part of a nice map.”

“Thanks,” Remus said awkwardly. People didn’t give him compliments very much. Maybe that was a ghost thing. “You did good with the art.”

Roman beamed at him. Red and white, a warm blanket around his shoulders.

“And--uh--” Remus motioned to the door. “You went--”

“I don’t like thunderstorms,” Roman said simply. “And I wanted to help you find it.”

Remus found himself smiling. “So you can go outside.”

“I can.”

“Why don’t you?”

Roman ruffled the edge of the map. It was already drying. “Because there aren’t good maps like this one, so I’m not sure if I could find my way back.”

“You made it back without a map today.” Remus kicked off his rain boots and shrugged off his coat. “Plus, if you went to school, I’d be there. I’d make sure you got back alright.”

Roman chewed his lip.

“It’d be okay,” Remus said. “You’d see me the whole time. And--you wouldn’t have to be alone in this house all year. You spend too much time in it already.”

Roman laughed a bit. “I don’t mind. You’re there.”

“I’m not gonna be.” Remus rubbed his arms, and the chill began to fade. “It’s the house or me, bro. And I’m pretty sure you like me better.”

Roman’s smile was smaller now, but still just as bright.

“I could make you a map,” Remus finally offered. “Of the way to school and back. Just in case?”

“I’d like that.” Roman paused. “I...it might be a while before I decide to go that far from the house. You might have to torment your teachers on your own.”

“Oh, I’m great at that.” Remus led Roman into the living room. He could already smell dinner. Mom waved, and he waved back, and Roman waved, too. Mom couldn’t see him, but Roman was polite like that. Maybe she’d even wave back at Roman one day, if they were lucky. “And--yeah, take your time. We’ve got a lot of it.”

“True.” Roman drifted along, a few feet above ground. He glowed like lightning, and red flickered in time with the thunder, impossible not to see. “I’ll find what works, okay?”

“Okay!” Remus spread the maps on the table. The lines glistened--a tornado of doodles and a house of scribbles. Maybe not much of a map. But it was fun to make, and helpful to find, and a good haunted map for a haunted house. “Are you gonna stick around to staple these together?”

“Of course,” Roman said, pencil already in hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Remus smiled. “Neither am I.”

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

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Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

@kieraelieson @i-am-not-a-dinner-roll @cottonwoolsocks @aceawkwardunicorn @somehow-i-got-an-account @10moonymhrivertam @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know @enby-phoenix @a-fandom-trashdump

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #ghost au #creativitwins #sanders sides fic #averywrites #yeahh this got really long again and i don't know how #i swear it was just going to be today's warmup fic #anyway here kid!side content i have homework and i must go

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whentheynameyoujoy · 3 years

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So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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breezy-cheezy · 5 years

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Mmmmmkay I have to rant about Nier: Automata for a bit; I accidentally triggered the end of the game (playthrough 2, ending B) last night and stayed up till 2:00 trying to finish the stupid “not allowed to save” phase. But y’aLL IT’S SO GOOD??????? AND 3RD PLAYTHROUGH ISN’T ANOTHER RE-RUN OF THE SAME STORY WE GET MORE STORY AAAAAAAAA

(more under the cut because there is ALOT for those who care;;;;;)

- OK SO THE MUSIC IS AMAZING??? I love LOVE that the music dynamics build in instruments and intensity as you progress towards danger/plot, but also softens again for quieter moments and just...musical storytelling is so sooooo my jam I love it. Also that the music goes 8 bit when 9S hacks stuff, it’s actually kinda cute X’D

- ON THE SUBJECT of 9S being able to hack into enemies and you getting to play that as a little teeny ship shooting down viruses and barriers and whatnot. Genius???? That added SO MUCG to the story on the second playthrough as 9S. Particularly discovering the fact that all of humanity?? Is actually extinct?? ...even BEFORE the aliens/machines attacked earth?? WH A T?????? WHAT THE HECK ARE ANDROIDS FIGHTING FOR THEN????? *every time an android salutes and says “glory to mankind” now* GLORY MY FOOT THEY ALL DEAD MOVE ON--

- I realize it probably has alot to do with the lore of previous nier games and I’ll probably have to trawl through Wiki pages soon here. Emil himself really broke my heart aaaaaah baby...his side quest is so sad. I also looked at arts and he was a really cute kid?? Before he was turned int the freaky moon skeleton thing...?? Oh my goodness......

- The secret lunar tear flower room is gorgeous. I just sat there for awhile to soak it all in...the music is so nostalgic and I’ve never heard that song bfore how do y’all DO THAT--

- Emil’s shop is pretty cute. He just drives around the ruins and sells stuff if you shoot him and he’ll stop X’’’D It did ruin alot of serious moments tho. *Engels, talking about how he’d sinned for killing so many androids and choosing death--* “S-A-L-E SAAAALLLEEE~~!! EVERY SALE’S A WIIIINNNNNN~~~~!!!! LALALaaaaaa~~~...” Me: *facepalm*

- ...I just realized the little tune he sings is a cheerful rendition of the music in the flower room. H E C K

- ANYWAY. Onto the actual game. I really really enjoyed playing as 9S for obvious reasons (bABY) but it really did add so soooo much to the pretty much surface level story when you first play as 2B. Which sums them up pretty well...2B, Battle unit 2, pushes on relentlessly, avoids thinking too hard about things and what she’s doing because oh dear, EMOTION might get in the way...9S, Scanner unit 9, on the other hand, cannot stop his curiosity. He asks questions, he sticks his nose in way further than he should to some dangerous stuff. I think he realized Machines were sentient and had feelings long before 2B, but was in denial for a good while. You learn so much more about what you’re fighting as 9S, because he scans. He observes, searches, discovers. Heck, some hacking caused him to experience empathy for the poor things, to his horror...

- Actually, there are alot of scenes where either 2B or 9S questions why a machine they’re killing is screaming for help, of crying for lost family, or loudly proclaiming loyalty to a king they’ll give their lives for...they stop for a moment, but the other quickly jumps in and reminds them that it’s just imitation. It’s not real, it’s fake, machines can’t feel, yadda yadda...it was odd to me they kept switching off on reminding, but...I think they both know, deep down, what they’re doing. But denial. Because if machines DO have feelings, if they are sentient...what does that mean for all they’ve killed...? Just...hoo BOY the moral dellimas in this game?? Scary good. The quests get that across alot.

- I don’t like the theme of hopelessness in most of the side quests?? I do see many of them as cautionary tales though. We watch many characters lose hope and the will to live after their thing/person they’re living FOR is gone. It makes me worry alot about 2B, who is a soldier through and through. 9S actually does have hopes and dreams for things outside of the war, which I love ;7; they definitely lean on each other alot emotionally on this respect though...I don’t know quite what to make of the themes of the game this far in yet;;;;

- The love between 9S and 2B is of course my favorite thing. Familial, romantic, idk. I, being me, see it as more platonic, “You’re my rock in this storm” only friend/sister/brother vibe, but as more of a fan of platonic relationships, that is what I tend to do. But 9s following 2B around like a lost puppy and trying to do all he can to help and do his job but also getting bored with said job and trying to make the most of things, asking all the “why” questions, 2B acting irritated but also always keeps him close and makes sure he’s safe....going ballistic when someone hurts her boy ;;v;; I love...2 kids. Their operators and pods are such fun dynamics too~~

- As far as endings A and B...DANG. It hit worse because you get backstory on the giant ocean machine (that 9S just hit with a giant missle, which he also had to ride to keep it on the right path...DX NO SELF PRESERVATION) he just...wanted his mama......;;A;;

- Also it’s not fair. 9S is so injured by that missle attack, then I guess Adam finds him and is like “HM. *sticks the lil boy impaled on a wall* Perfect. *proceeds to emotionally and mentally torture said child*“ like YO ADAM THAT’S NOT HOW YOU DO THINGS. Then 2B proceeds to kick down walls for her boy and kills Adam and walks off carrying 9S bridal style into the sunset. Lovely. I have a comic idea for this part, lol.

- Oh I don’t like Adan very much, he is pretty tho?? There was alot of blood though...how do machines bleed?? How do the androids bleed?? What??? I question this alot.

- HHHHHHH THE BECOME AS GODS CHAPTER SCARED ME I DON’T EVER WANNA DO THAT AGAIN DANG SUICIDAL ROBOTS SCARED ME SO BAD

- Fighting Eve was...annoying but still heartbreaking. He misses his brother so much....even though Adam is a butthead and couldn’t care less he left his little brother behind DX just everything about that fight was Tragic. Also Eve developing more self awareness and realizing “Eve” is a girl’s name and being a bit miffed LOL that’s what y’all get when your first book is the bible kiddos...I realize they’re technically like what? 2 weeks old still???

- The ENDING. From 9S’s perspective is especially scary....the corruption transforming him, 2B coming in to kill him to stop the pain, he BEGGED her to, just....hhhhhhh babies ;;A;; 2B’s soft broken crying over him as she’s forced to strangle her only friend to death just aaaaaAAAAAAAA I DIE ;;;;;;;;~;;;;;;;;;

- I was actually able to cry over it this time coz. It was 2 am. No parent awkwardly watching over my shoulder. Because the pose for this scene is...........super awkward..........like......really........their clothes are super torn up and uh. The first time I was just hoping my parents wouldn’t mistake it for a sex scene or something hhhhhghhhhh;;;;;; I really really REALLY wish the pose was different, the game does need to give the fanservice a rest, at LEAST for a scene this serious DX I’m able to ignore it but when someone else is watching I don’t wanna have to explain;;;;

- That IS a big gripe I have with the game. The fanservice. Just. Why. How is 2B’s outfit practical?? Self destruct mode???? REALLY???? Get this girl battle shorts or something please.....I guess if I looked at it more as a ballet outfit?? I might make some edits when I draw her because GEEZ.

- 9S gets some of this too. Self destruct mode, his shorts are blown off???? WHAT THE HECK???? Welp, never using that again. also why is he the only yorha boy android??????????? X’’’’D They never explain that!!

- BACK TO ENDING STUFF why were there random data hologram girls standing there, watching 2B strangle 9S?? Just...silently there...they weren’t there in the first playthrough?? I’ve seen them a couple times but they’re NEVER mentioned?? WHAT ARE THEY-- is it a glitch?? Wha--

- Teeny 9S being able to dump his consciousness into a giant machine robot guy and cradling 2B in his hand ;;~;; he’s fine y’all I’m so GLAD (I wanna draw something for this scene.... I wanna draw alot of things)

- I love Pascal. He should adopt all the sad people to his happy peace village. He already started that...what a good egg.

- The accessories option is lovely. I’ve been running around with 9S with a blue bow in his hair forever now ;7; replaced with the flower in his hair because BOYS AND FLOWERS I LOVE but I think I might give the flower to 2B because she’d look lovely with it and....I miss the blue bow X’D

- Also the AMOUNT of things this could line up with a KH universe....as far as how androids work, hearts (black boxes), memories making you...you, being able to transfer “hearts” to new bodies when the old is destroyed, POWER OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP...there’s alot. I dunno what to do with this info...

Anyway, I have alOT of thoughts and feelings on this game, it’s like...a very cool book. I’ve had trouble putting down. These aren’t even all of them but idk who I can actually rant to so here it is for the Void

I’m so interested to see where it goes!

#breezy babbles #ALOT #idk where else to put this so here #for the void #this probably absolutely makes no sense I'm so sorry #nier: automata #nier #meta #????kinda #I loooove love love 9S with all my heart and soul #he's also voiced by Mob's english voice actor which is SO MUCH CUTER #they need to hang out #I love 2B so much too #their operators are cute #pascal is cute #everyone is cute

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jayykesley · 7 years

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can I ask for all of the oc questions for both of my sons

absolutely you can;

1. what do they look like?

Derick’s about 5’9, with slightlytanned skin, golden blond curly hair, and blue eyes

Roswell is a tall, lanky, 17-yearold with ridiculous dark hair and big round grey eyes

2. describe their personality inthree words:

Derick: Nervous, shameful, and sweet

Roswell: Excited, enthusiastic,empathetic

3. how tall are they?

Derick’s 5’9, and Roswell’s about 5’11

4. favorite foods?

Derick loves anything sweet – cookies,brownies, cake, coffee with more sugar than actual coffee

Roswell will eat anything andeverything, he’s a growing kid

5. any allergies?

Not that I know of

6. what is their build?

When the gang first meets Derick,he’s real real skinny because he can’t afford to eat a lot. After they get himsome real food, he still somewhat skinny, but a little more filled out?

Roswell’s just lanky like a noodle

7. do they have curly, wavy, orstraight hair?

Derick’s got super curly hair thatsticks up everywhere and gets in his eyes

Roswell has straight hair that lookslike he stuck a fork in a socket

8. do they like books? if so, howoften do they read?

Derick doesn’t read a lot – not alot of good reading material in Cirsca, it’s mostly just manuals and journals.Roswell’s kind of the same way, he doesn’t mind them but reading’s not his ideaof fun.

9. what are their talents?

Derick’s not half bad at drawing,though he usually only draws Ragsy.

Roswell: Talking absolutely non-stop

10. two or more other fictionalcharacters they’re similar to?

Shoshanna from Inglorious Basterdswas the inspiration for Derick, though I guess the two aren’t wildly similar interms of personality. Maybe Cress from Lunar Chronicles? Or Noah from RavenCycle? I’m actually not sure…

For Roswell, definitely Dick Graysonfrom the Lego Batman Movie

11. what is one strange hobby/talentthey have?

Derick’s freaky good atcommunicating with animals. Like, “Disney Princess” good.

I actually don’t know one forRoswell…and here I thought I knew my ocs….

12. five songs that fit them:

For Derick, here’s three:

“The Letter That Never Came” –Thomas Newman (yeah its instrumental, but its just so sad at the beginning thatI think of Derick every time)

“Beauty and the Beast” – BATB OTS(the original with angela Lansbury – technically derick/Rosalyn but still)

“I Went TooFar” – Aurora

I swear I have more, I just can’tthink of them atm

And Shut Up and Dance definitelyreminds me of Roswell

13. who do you think could play themin a live-action rendition?

Evan Peters, who is also myface-claim for Derick.

A young Nicholas Hoult is my faceclaim for Roswell too..

14. do they just want to rest?

YES oh my gosh yes that’s all Derickwants. Roswell’s the opposite; there’s too much to do!!

15. which OC did not sign up forthis?

Derick, for sure

16. who’s their favorite person?

It takes him a while to warm up toher, but overall I think Rosalyn is his favorite person. He also really enjoyshanging out with Carson and Lorelei, because they’re like the siblings he neverhad.

Funny enough, Rosalyn is alsoRoswell’s favorite person, right next to Dr. Anaya Gatling! Gatling’s like amentor to him, so he loves her so much too.

17. who do you ship them with?

ROSALYN with Derick, and Roswell’sperfectly fine on his own

18. have they experienced the deathof a loved one?

Derick hasn’t, Roswell has (he and Rosalynused to have an older brother)

19. have they ever been tortured?

For Derick, doesmental/emotional/physical abuse count? For Roswell, no, not yet (?)

20. what’s the worst thing you’vedone to them without spoiling anything?

Gave Derick to parents who mentallyand emotionally abused him then abandoned him, so now he genuinely doesn’trecognize real love when he’s shown it.

For Roswell, killing his big brotherreally sucks so…

21. any mental illnesses?

Derick probably does, but he hasn’tbeen diagnosed. Roswell’s mental health is great, so no.

22. what’s their favorite animal?

Derick’s is cats, Roswell’s is dogs.

23. what are their flaws?

Derick’s kind of a coward, veryabsorbed in his own mind, overthinks everything.

Roswell can be too trusting and tooeager to see the best in everyone. Also could accidentally share secret infowhile rambling.

24. what’s their favorite color?

Derick likes green, and Roswelllikes purple and yellow and blue and red and….

25. pet peeves?

Derick dislikes people who just gogo go!Roswell dislikes grumpy, pessimistic people.

26. bad habits?

Derick’s always chewing on his nailswhen he’s nervous. Roswell’s is obviously his oversharing.

27. an OC they hate:

Derick hates Rosalyn when he firstmeets her, Carson kinda too.

Roswell really only hates Chief Knoxfor killing his brother.

28. random fact about them:

Afternoons at Marni’s shop are someof the only happy childhood memories Derick has.

It’s safe to assume that, at anygiven moment, Roswell’s wearing at least one brightly colored bandage for anynumber of minor injuries

29. family members?

Derick just had a mother and afather, nobody else.

Roswell only has Rosalyn now, but heconsiders the rest of the unground dwellers his family.

30. Hogwarts house?

Hufflepuff and Gryffindor (?)

31. what makes them happy?

Derick: Ragsy, coolmornings/evenings in the Burjeok forest, watching the stars and moon at night

Roswell: Lots of things! Warmsunshine, new flowers in spring, talking to anybody, going to town, pettinganimals, etc.

32. middle and last names (ifthey’re established)?

No middle names, Denmeyer is Derick’slast name and Tate is Roswell’s.

33. introvert, ambivert, orextrovert?

Derick’s heavily introverted andRoswell’s heavily extroverted

34. how old are they?

Derick’s 22 and Roswell’s 17 (he’sthe dancing queen)

35. strange quirks they have:

Does Derick’s nail-chewing count?

36. any unhealthy obsessions?

Why did mom and dad leave, why wasn’t I enough?

For Roswell, nothing really. He’spretty healthy overall

37. looks like they could kill butis actually a cinnamon roll, looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually killyou, looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll, looks likethey could kill you and could actually kill you, or sinnamon roll

Both are totally pure cinnamon rolls

38. how smart are they?

Derick’s actually fairly smart. He’sgot a lot of practical knowledge from several years on his own.

Roswell’s fairly smart. He’s still ateen, so he’s got a lot to learn, but he’s intelligent!

39. master planner or masterimproviser?

Improviser, and about half-and-half

40. species/race?

Both human, both white

41. cat or dog person?

Derick loves both with all his heart

Roswell prefers dogs because they’remore open and obvious with their love and affection

42. where are they from?

Both are from Cirsca!

43. moral alignment?

Derick’s Lawful neutral, and Roswell’sNeutral Good

44. what is their dominant hand?

Both are right-handed

45. do you have headcanons for them?

Plenty

46. can they sing?

Derick’s not terrible, but he wouldnever draw that much attention to himself. Roswell probably shouldn’t

47. what horror-movie characterstereotype are they?

Derick would be the one that refusesto investigate the creepy noises, gets left in the living room by himself,probably winds up dying then.

Roswell is one of the first to die,he was probably the one that went to check out the creepy noises

48. how well can they worktechnology?

Derick’s better than most of thegang, since he worked in the capital city. Roswell doesn’t have a lot ofexperience with technology, so he probably wouldn’t be very good

49. which Marvel or DCsuperhero/villain would they be?

Both would actually fit CharlesXavier pretty well. Just with his whole “I don’t want to fight, I just want tobe accepted” thing?

50. how well do they develop overthe course of the story?

I want to say pretty well? I’mhoping to have Derick go from “coward who would rather stay home thanpotentially help others and stand up for his beliefs” to “scared guy who bravely facesdanger anyways for the sake of his friends and what’s right”

Roswell gets his own development,but you know, spoilers.

51. are they more humble or moreegotistical?

Humble, definitely

52. who would they be in a Disneymovie?

Derick would be snow White, justhappily traipsing through the woods with a flock of animals

Roswell would be the comedic sidekickor loyal animal companion

53. how many languages can theyspeak?

Just english

54. early-bird or night-owl?

Derick’s a night owl, and Roswell isboth since he never sleeps

55. how meme-y are they?

Derick would probably know more memesthan he’d like, because Carson and Lorelei would share them all with him.Roswell would be one of the meme-iest

56. how close are they to theirfamily?

Biological family? Derick’s not atall close, and Roswell is very close to Rosalyn.

57. do they have suicidal thoughtsor actions?

Derick kinda does but not like another oc of mine andRoswell doesn’t – he’s doing well

58. what is their preferred weapon?

Both can work a gun, but neitherlikes to fight (except I think I’m gonna give Derick a shield instead)

Thanks!!

#my ocs

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