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downstarr · 2 years

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As if the Seas Should Part

Ed has been recalled to the Republic of Pirates to stand trial for crimes against his own kind. The Revenge needs allies, as they've made many powerful enemies in the year they've been sailing together.

As much as Ed and Stede both try to convince themselves that pirates need unity more than they need to punish Ed, they are worried that he may be found guilty and sentenced to death - or worse, be separated from each other.

But the parley of pirate captains brings a surprising ask - one that will put strain on Ed and Stede's life together. Magistrate Flora Burn wants Ed to atone for his past sins by becoming the next Magistrate of the Republic of Pirates. That means the two have to learn to live apart for a time - but will the Carribbean survive the parting of Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet? --- This is a sequel to The Accidental Seduction of Edward Teach by Stede Bonnet, Gentleman Pirate. This time it's from Stede's POV. It picks up approximately a year after the end of that story. ----

Chapter 1 - The Anniversary Summary: Stede and Ed throw a party on the occasion of the anniversary of their matelotage. But they have ulterior motives beyond celebrating their quasi-marriage. Their purpose is to gain allies for a vote the next day at a gathering of pirate captains that will see whether Ed will continue to be a pirate outcast, be punished for his past crimes, or let into the fold. ----

It had been about a year since Ed and Stede had signed a piece of paper that gave them co-ownership of the Revenge. Stede learned after the fact that the arrangement, called matelotage, was the closest thing two men could get to being married.

When Stede first heard about a way to formalize co-captaincy, it seemed like an eminently practical thing. At the time, he wasn't aware of the implications and in fact, had not become aware of the implications until he mentioned the idea to Lucius, who filled him in on the pirate tradition. By that point, the deed was already done and the papers filed.

The two men went out on the town in the Republic of Pirates afterward. Stede had worn a jacket he had wanted to wear on his wedding day, but had been denied because the shimmering white beaded frock coat was simply too loud for polite society.

He was wearing it again now, in the same bar they’d come to after the paperwork had been signed. CeeCee’s Den of Delights was owned by a friend of Ed’s in a neighbourhood of the Republic’s biggest settlement called the Village. Pirates as a rule, were permissive and even accepting of all kinds of folks, but nowhere more so than the little colourful cluster of buildings that made a little town within a city.

Ever since Stede had run his sword through a Spanish captain named Gilbert after the man forced Ed to sign an act of grace, the bounty on their heads had been high. But thanks to new allies among the pirates, they had managed to stay one step ahead. That was the reason they were there that night. Their anniversary was just a coincidence - and an excuse for the party they were hosting.

“Captain Bonnet. Why are you lurking in a corner at your own party?” asked Greaves, the captain of the Osprey with three other ships under his banner. Greaves was an old friend of Ed’s who had turned enemy, then ally after the Revenge helped rescue several of his crewmates.

“Oh, I’m not lurking, really. Just got up to get another drink,” said Stede as he looked into his empty cup.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” rumbled Greaves. The tall, handsome, commanding Black man grabbed a bottle of rum from a nearby server’s tray and splashed a healthy amount into the man’s cup.

In truth, Stede had gotten distracted by watching Ed mingle with old crewmates who had been invited to the gathering. The other man looked relaxed and happy. His voluminous beard had been trimmed back over a year ago by Stede on an island, as a symbol of letting go of his past. Not long after, it had been forcefully clean-shaved by Gilbert. Ed had been growing it back for some months, but kept it trimmed to about an inch or so in length. His hair was drawn off his face with a series of braids fastened with purple ribbons. He was wearing an oversized purple shirt that draped off one shoulder, his leather pants and a wide belt with buckles that fastened around his waist and almost gave it a corset effect. His neck was adorned with gold chains and the black cravat he’d nicked from Stede the first time they met. He was also wearing gold bangles and a diamond earring in one ear. It was an interesting marriage of his old Blackbeard style and a new, more flamboyant and softer style.

Stede thought he looked utterly beautiful, in part because he looked so relaxed. But concern creased his brow as well.

“You’re worried about the hearing, aren’t you?” said Greaves.

Stede looked down at his overfull glass and leaned his face down to slurp from the edge so he wouldn’t spill it. “Should I be? Everyone keeps saying it’s only a formality.”

“Well,” began Greaves, “Ed has redeemed himself, especially since he met you. But his crimes before that were…” he grunted, “...not precisely small. I’ll certainly be advocating for him. I know some others will, too. But there are many who still hold a grudge.”

“And I’m sure it doesn’t help his case much that he didn’t show up to the last parley.”

“No it does not,” said Greaves.

The parley, as it was explained to Stede, was a once-yearly gathering of pirates in the Republic. Pirate captains gathered to discuss issues of mutual concern, strategize, discuss alliances, share intelligence on their enemies, elect a new magistrate (or confirm the current one) - and, most importantly for their purposes, judge pirates who had committed egregious crimes against their own kind.

“He’s smart to be doing what he’s doing,” said Greaves as he nodded towards where Ed was chatting with a cluster of captains. “Those are old friends. Captain Malik…” he motioned to a striking pirate with dark hair and eyes and a yellow turban, “Captain Bonny,” a petite but fierce looking Black woman with long braids and a tricorn hat, “...and Black Sam Bellamy. Last year, you rescued their crewmates from Spanish slavery when we torched the galleon. Ed will need their votes if he’s to escape punishment.”

Stede watched Ed converse with the other pirate captains. He was unaware that his hand was quaking and slopping the contents of his cup of rum all over his hand and the floor. He knew that although Ed seemed calm and friendly on the surface, he was actually terrified.

Pirates were not known for gentle justice, after all.

“Yes, he mentioned. He…” Stede looked down at his lacy cuff that was stained with rum. “Oh. Bugger,” he muttered.

Greaves arched a brow at Stede. “Captain Bonnet…” he hesitated, then his tone turned more gentle, “...Stede. The best thing you can do for Ed tonight is to be confident, be personable, and be completely sure in Ed and who he is now. I know you fancy lads know how to work a room. That’s not a skill you get to use much as a pirate, but it’s one that could very well mean the difference between punishment and being brought back into the pirate fold. So go, work the room. Introduce yourself. Talk up Ed and your good deeds over the past year. I promise it will help.”

Stede took a few deep breaths and met Greaves’ eyes. He nodded once. “Thank you, Robert. I appreciate the pep talk.” He flicked his rum-covered wrist. “And you’re right. I may be a bit rusty, but politics and making friends are my strength! So I will do my best.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Greaves, as he clapped Stede on the shoulder.

—

Stede did as Greaves suggested and spent the rest of the evening working the room. Well, most of the evening. There came a point when the drink was flowing heavily and CeeCee’s performers took the stage, and it was understood that the business part of the evening was over.

Stede stepped over a downed, drunken man, dodged a fist fight and avoided the flirtatious looks of a statuesque woman with a large fan made of feathers. He found Ed in a corner, looking a bit glassy-eyed from drink and exhausted from an evening of trying to get pirate captains on-side.

“I’d ask you if you wanted a drink, but I’d guess you’ve probably had enough,” said Stede gently.

Even though he was careful to announce his approach, he still startled Ed. But even though he was exhausted from politicking and drinking steadily, his face still lit up upon seeing Stede. “I’m sorry. It’s our fucking anniversary and I’ve spent all night talking to every other damned pirate on this island but you,” he muttered as he reached out to hook a hand on either side of Stede’s hips to pull him forward.

“That’s all right,” said Stede gently as he reached up to push back a strand of hair that had come loose from a braid. “It was just a coincidence that the parley was happening at the same time. And besides, this is important. We can celebrate after they’ve cleared you.”

Ed looked away and reached to twine his hand with Stede’s. He squeezed tightly. The two of them had a very long talk before deciding to answer the second summons to the parley. Ed had burnt bridges many years ago by refusing to stand for his crimes. His fearsome reputation had prevented retaliation, but it also meant he had few friends and fewer allies. Those were two things that the Revenge very much needed these days. So when a second invitation was extended to account for his past deeds, Ed had realized he needed to face his past - even if it meant punishment.

That realization had provoked a dark spiral in the fearsome pirate. Stede sat with him for hours to calm him and bring him back from the void reckoning with his past threatened to pull him into. Over the past year, he’d grown adept at calming his partner. He accepted that Ed would always have these moments of darkness. Sometimes, he could help him avoid the triggers, but other times, the storms came out of nowhere and swept him under.

Stede was worried Ed was on the edge of another storm at a very inopportune moment. But then he saw his partner come back to himself with a centred look in dark eyes.

Ed pulled Stede down beside him on the couch and leaned against his shoulder. He nudged up the ring with a purple gemstone on Stede’s finger, to reveal his first (and so far, only) tattoo.

Under the ring, in vertical, straight letters, was the name ‘Edward Teach’ etched in black. It was the mate for the flowing calligraphy of Stede’s own name that adorned Ed’s right hand, on the space between thumb and forefinger. He had learned to write expressly for that purpose. He turned out to be a very adept student, which surprised Stede not at all. He knew Ed to be a fiercely intelligent man who had simply never seen the need to learn to read and write.

“I know I said…” Ed inhaled as he fiddled with Stede’s ring and examined his own name etched into his skin, “...that I would accept my fate. But I’m not going to fucking let them take me away from you.”

“Good. Because I won’t let that fucking happen either,” said Stede with a lopsided little smile. “We’ll massacre the lot of them if we have to.” He spoke those words in a wry, joking tone, but both men knew there was a strong grain of truth to his words.

The two were silent for a moment as they leaned against each other. The rum Stede had drunk was enough to make the world fuzzy at the edges and to make the room spin a bit the longer he was still. But the warmth of Ed’s body and his comfortable, familiar scent kept him grounded.

The din of the bar had quieted down. Most people were engaged in quiet conversation, hooking up in dark corners, or watching the elegantly dressed performer on the stage sing soft songs.

“I wish I’d thought to book the room upstairs. Don’t like the idea of walking all the way back to the ship,” mumbled Ed.

Stede grinned a little shyly and turned his head towards Ed. “Well, as luck would have it…”

“What? I thought it was booked.”

“Oh, it was. I asked CeeCee who booked it and offered them twice the nightly rate to let us have it,” said Stede proudly.

“You conniving genius,” murmured Ed fondly and fiercely. “Why are we sitting down here, then?”

—

The little room above the bar was just as Stede remembered it. Bits of fabric in a wide array of colours dangled from the ceiling and swayed in the breeze. The furniture was likewise upholstered with love and a steady hand - elegant pieces rescued from a scrap heap and given new life. The bed sagged down to the floor, but was piled high with cushions and bits of silk.

In that space, resplendent with colour and good memories, Stede set out to distract his husband and chase the edges of darkness away. Everyone in their lives thought their honeymoon period would fade over time and the intensity of their relationship would settle into something more comfortable and quiet. But Stede still got a sharp thrill every time Ed touched him, every time he smiled at him, and every time they kissed.

Truth be told, Stede could take or leave the more mechanical aspects of sex. But Ed enjoyed it very much, and the passion on his lover’s face was all the incentive he needed. And in return, Ed knew that Stede very much appreciated intimacy and a slow pace. So they had found a way to be together that deeply satisfied and excited both of them.

And there was something about making love somewhere that wasn’t their shared cabin that turned both men with gray in their hair back to horny teenagers. It was likely that their enthusiastic lovemaking interrupted what was left of the party still going on a floor beneath them.

And although neither man said it, there was a touch of desperation to their contact. After all, they didn’t know what the next day would bring.

The magistrate and the council of pirates at the parley had Ed’s fate in their hands. But for a few hours yet, he belonged entirely to Stede Bonnet.

---

Chapter 2 on AO3.

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graywyvern · 1 year

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( me / via )

"John Keats, it is said, heard the nightingale to which he addressed his 'Ode to a Nightingale' on Hampstead Heath if not on Parliament Hill Fields themselves."

ownership swims in belfry gray essence

charred rink sportive osprey swipe

Our cat Flurry enamored by an unexpected morning snow.

blank books half-filled, & later on, abandoned; should i return, by empty space allured...? the thought that would not stay its projected span & ever since has left the absence burdened.

this, & ev'ry other broken thing illuminate the suddenly hapless hours

How we got the zombie apocalypse (that some of us wanted), edward gorey.

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dismains · 2 years

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The waltons the hostage

THE WALTONS THE HOSTAGE FULL

The AC (plus the MC?) did a ~16 hour round trip last night. vHLoold2sWĢ x USAF KC135R QUID640/641 followed by an USAF AC-130J Ghostrider from Morón southbound over #Morocco /oBCwttKyDI Quite a grouping! x4 MC-130J and x2 Osprey’s out of Mildenhall with transponders on heading across the English Channel looks like a Special Ops exercise. AFSOC MC-130Js and CV-22 Ospreys, forward deployed to Rota, Spain, took part in the raid, supported by 6x KC-135s from RAF Mildenhall: Part of the activity could be tracked online by means of ADS-B/Mode-S. Following a “brief but intense firefight”, Walton was moved on foot to the extraction site where helicopters flew the hostage and rescue force to safety. Once the rescue force was inserted into the area by parachute, they moved on foot approximately three miles to the target area where the rescue was made. There were approximately 30 special operations personnel involved in the raid. It is also used if forces assigned to the raid must travel into the target area from a significant distance on longer range aircraft. This insertion method is generally used only if other means of covert insertion are not immediately available. special operations began with a parachute insertion into the area according to reports. personnel were injured during the raid, but reports indicate that all but one of the kidnappers were killed during the operation. The captors demanded nearly $1 million in ransom for Mr. He offered them $40 and was then taken away by the armed gunmen on motorbikes, the officials said. Walton was seized from his backyard on Monday in front of family members after assailants asked him for money. American and Nigerian officials had said that Mr. Walton, the son of missionaries, lives with his wife and young daughter on a farm near Massalata, a small village close to the border with Nigeria. While unconfirmed, it is possible that Walton has been moved to Niger Airbase 201, a facility that has been significantly upgraded for expanded operations in the region.Ī report by Eric Schmidt in the New York Times today said that, “Mr.

THE WALTONS THE HOSTAGE FULL

hostage, Philip Walton, was not named during the Pentagon press briefing. The Waltons (TV Series) The Hostage (1981) Full Cast & Crew See agents for this cast & crew on IMDbPro Directed by Herbert Hirschman Writing Credits Cast (in credits order) Produced by Music by Alexander Courage Cinematography by Hugh K. Hoffman added that Walton, “…is safe and is now in the care of the U.S. in northern Nigeria to recover an American citizen held hostage by a group of armed men”. forces conducted a hostage rescue operation during the early hours of 31 Oct. Learn more about some of the historical events addressed on the show.Pentagon spokesman Jonathan Hoffman told reporters on Saturday, “U.S. The moon landing ( 'A Walton Easter', Special #6) The assassination of President Kennedy ( 'A Walton Thanksgiving Reunion', Special #4) The death of President Roosevelt ( 'The Outrage', s9-ep1) The abdication of King Edward the 8th ( 'The Abdication', s4-ep11)Ĭherokee "Trail of Tears" 1836-'38 ( 'The Warrior', s6-ep4) The Hindenburg disaster ( 'The Inferno', s5-ep19) The Spanish Civil War 1936 – 1939 ( 'The Collision', s4-ep24) The Spanish-American War & The Battle of San Juan Hill ( 'The Fox', s4-ep17) Events that affected the Walton family and most Americans during that time include: In doing so the writers never failed to immerse the characters and viewers on a bit of a histroy lesson. The show spanned more than 30 years of American history from 1933 to 1969. Teen Pregnancy ( "The Odyssey", s2-ep2 "The Revelation", s6-ep21 'The Pursuit', s9-ep6) Religious persecution ( 'The Unthinkable', s8-ep14) Racism ( 'The Festival', s6-ep16 'The Illusion', s7-ep8 'The Outrage', s9-ep1) Physical disabilities ( 'The Foundling', s1-ep1 'The Job', s3-ep11 'The Obstacle' s7-ep14) While many see the Walton's as a family that represents conservative values they in fact exhibit very liberal attitudes when dealing with a variety of topics and issues, these include:Īlcoholism ( 'The Calling' s7-ep2 'The Captive', s7-ep7)Īnimal welfare ( 'The Calf", s1-ep3 'The Hunt', s1-ep4 'The Fawn', s2-ep8 'The Last Mustang', s5-ep12)Īnti-German sentiment ( 'The Firestorm', s5-ep5 'The Hiding Place', s5-ep22 'The Rumor' s6-ep14 'The Spirit', s8-ep12)Ĭonscientious objection ( 'The Conscience', s7-ep13)Ĭustoms & traditions ( 'The Ceremony', s1-ep9 'The Shivaree', s3-ep19 'The Quilting', s4-ep21 'The Hostage', s9-ep20)ĭomestic violence ( 'The Victims', s9-ep15)

#The waltons the hostage

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capturaphoto · 2 years

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Day 1 on Prince Edward Island @coachsandybatten and I made it to PEI ... after a quick stop at the @capejourimainnaturecentre to get some views of the impressive @confederationbridge Sandy has the wingspan of an Osprey .. I'm closer to a Great Blue Heron ... no birdbrain jokes 🤣🤣🤣 We stopped at the @welcomepei Tourism Centre to get a pic and some maps. First stop ... @cowsicecream 😋😁🍦 If you come to PEI, visit a Cows location... you won't be disappointed. We followed the North Coastal Scenic route to North Cape ... see my next post for pics of this gorgeous area. We stopped along the way at Seacow Pond ... this photogenic storm cloud is over a fishing boat .. you can zoom in or swipe to see my #SuperZoom image of the boat. #roadtrip #willandsandy #willandsandysexcellentadventure #welcomepei #tourismpei #vacationlife (at Prince Edward Island) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgLS0YNMfe-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#superzoom #roadtrip #willandsandy #willandsandysexcellentadventure #welcomepei #tourismpei #vacationlife

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reptilian-angel · 3 years

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Darkwing OC Month Day 28: Favorite DWD OC Someone Else Created

Oh gosh, there’s so many to choose from, the artists on this site have made so many to choose from - But for the sake of simplicity, I’ll try and name as many of my fav OCs as I can;

Viola Osprey-Kapoor @thefriendlyfour & @annacpadilla

Dominic Domino, Cassie & Edward Osprey @thefriendlyfour

Vincent Kapoor @annacpadilla

Loony Toony @wonderlaney19

Flora and Hazel Hatchetson @alabasterpickles

Dr. Rose Gold @psychosistr

Tabitha @based-ducks (though I don’t really know much about her yet lol)

Cyrus Crane @justwildlymisunderstood

Dr. Elise Schwanz @ninja-librarian

Aaaaaaannnnnddddd I think that’s it!

#darkwingocmonth #darkwing duck ocs #darkwingduckocs #dwdocs #not my ocs #Edward Osprey #Vincent kapoor #tabitha #dominic domino #cassie #hazel hatchetson #dr rose gold #flora #Loony Toony #Viola Osprey-Kapoor #Cyrus Crane

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annacpadilla · 4 years

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So ummmm... these two are fathers now??? Baby Viola under the cut. Edward belongs to the lovely @thefriendlyfour. [x]

#Vincent Kapoor #Edward Osprey #sketch

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joezworld · 2 years

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So, a while back this got posted and I thought it would be cool to do a set of stories on the whole subject of 'family'.

Then work picked up and I only got through the first one and a half.

The half story got used in Day 27 of Traintober (it's the story Gordon retells to Richard Hatt), but this one never seemed like it could fit, so I decided to put it up after Traintober.

*checks watch*

It's certainly after Traintober now, isn't it?

Replacement

July, 1987

Once again, Tidmouth Sheds were in an uproar, but this time, it was a different sort of uproar.

"I'm telling you, he's a mongrel! A fraud! A waste of good metal!" Screeched a posh voice.

Vulgar statements followed this:

"How dare you, you cheese-shaped lump of-"

"-can you at least say this to my face?"

"-if ah were in steam ah would be turnin' ye into roast duck, you-"

"Forget yerself Douggie, can ye imagine what Bear wuld be sayin' if he wuz 'ere?"

"Quackers, I swear to all that is not holy, if you don't stop talking-"

"Is this what the pride of the LNER sounds like? An unmitigated -"

Perhaps an explanation is necessary.

The year prior, The National Railway Museum had restored Mallard - the fastest steam locomotive in the world - to operating condition. Gordon was very pleased by this, as it meant another member of his extended family was in steam.

Furthermore, Mallard's speed records were a source of personal pride for Gordon, as his design was the prototype for all the Gresley Pacifics, including Mallard. This meant that Gordon would happily spend hours telling anyone and everyone who would listen (or couldn't get away quickly enough!) about his family's various exploits, much to the annoyance of the other engines, who wished he'd give it a rest!

But Gordon would not give it a rest, and spent most of the next year going on and on about Mallard and Flying Scotsman. Things eventually grew so dire that the Fat Controller reached out to Mallard and Flying Scotsman's owners to see if the engines would like to come out to Sodor just so Gordon would stop.

Unfortunately, things had not gone as planned. While Flying Scotsman was just as charming and gregarious as he always was, Mallard... was not.

Within a few days of his arrival, engines up and down the Island had begun complaining of the A4's attitude, which ranged from snooty and aloof to cold and even downright hostile depending on whom he spoke to:

"You should have heard the things he said when he thought BoCo was gone!" Edward said crossly one morning at the junction. "I've never heard such remarks about diesels!"

"Did he say anything about you?" James growled. "He told me - to my face - that my class was a "insignificant footnote in history".

Percy looked over, expression dark, at where the express engine was sitting at the coaling tower next to Gordon and Scotsman. "He hasn't said anything to me yet, but I think he knows where his bearings are greased."

"What?" Edward was confused.

"Keep it to yourselves," Percy explained. "But I think those books about us are a bit more popular on the mainland than we think. He thinks he can get away with being a sore axle to you because you aren't famous."

"And you are?" James snapped back.

"No," Percy admitted. "But Thomas is, and every time I've seen that great Wedge is when Thomas, Gordon, or Flying Scotsman is nearby."

The three engines looked at each other.

"So not only is he a rude heap of scrap iron," James began. "But he's also a glory hound?"

"Seems so."

"What a berk."

This brings us back to Tidmouth Sheds. Henry had been away at the works for several days, and returned to the big station on an evening goods train from Crovan's Gate. Mallard, Gordon, Scotsman, and several other engines were already in the shed when Henry backed in.

Pleasantries were exchanged with the other engines, but when Henry tried to say hello to Mallard, trouble started.

"You aren't a Black Five, are you?" Mallard asked, suspicion colouring his voice.

"You have a very good eye!" Henry chortled, unaware of Mallard's personality. "I've been rebuilt quite thoroughly - Stanier was the most recent one, about 50 years ago now."

"Really? And what were you rebuilt from?" Mallard asked, even more suspicious than before.

Across the shed, Donald, Douglas, and Duck looked at each other with growing concern. Henry's origins were well known to the Island, as was Mallard's superiority complex - this conversation would not end well.

"-and well, at the end of the day, I think I was originally built out of a rejected first draft for Gordon!" Henry laughed a little. "Of course, that was a long time ago."

A lengthy silence followed that.

Gordon and Scotsman looked at each other. They'd never considered that Henry might share a common origin with them.

Douglas, Donald, and Duck looked concerned. They could see Mallard's expression turn increasingly thunderous.

"Gordon, my dear cousin." Mallard eventually said, his tone practically poisonous. "Did you know that we're in the company of a fraud?"

The noise did not stop. No matter what anyone did to quell the argument, it would quickly start up again as Gordon or Scotsman tried to make their increasingly-recalcitrant cousin apologize to Henry. Mallard's responses were so rude that they don't bear repeating here, and each time sparked off a new round of shouting.

They would likely have gone on until dawn broke over the horizon, and only did stop when Henry's crew arrived to light his fire for the Flying Kipper. They had heard the argument all the way from the station carpark, and decided that the only way to end this was by separating Mallard from everyone else.

"- you expect me to pull what?!" As an uncooperative Mallard was driven towards the docks, the rest of the engines looked at each other, wide-eyed and emotionally exhausted.

"I never want to speak to him again." Gordon said, his voice scratchy and raw from a night of shouting.

"Gordon," Henry began.

"I'm serious." Gordon rasped. "He has no right to speak to you that way. As far as I'm concerned, he is the fraud, not you."

This drew raised eyebrows across the shed. "How is he the fraud, Gordon?" Duck asked. "It's not like he isn't a Gresley."

"He might look like one," Gordon growled. "But he isn't. No true Gresley would ever speak to another engine like that. There is a code. Honor. Dignity. Respect. It's the Gresley - nay - the North Eastern way."

The other engines stared at him. They were all well aware of how Gordon had treated Henry during his first few years on the Island.

"Don't look at me like that!" He snapped. "I was young and I was stupid then. And I have apologized." He looked in the direction Mallard had gone. "He has no such excuse."

The other engines looked at each other. They were all very upset at Mallard's rudeness, but clearly he'd struck a nerve in Gordon.

They wanted to say something, but by that point, the firelighters had arrived to prepare everyone for their morning trains, and the clatter and noise made conversation impossible. When the sheds had finally quieted down, Donald and Scotsman - who did not have morning trains - had fallen so deeply asleep that they slept until noon.

Everyone else spent the rest of the day in an exhausted haze. Henry was falling asleep any time his wheels stopped turning, and Gordon's temper had become shorter and shorter as the day had gone on. Even Scotsman, who had managed some sleep, was still groggy to the point of slurring his words.

Mallard, who had also been up all night, was equally snappish, especially after his run with the Flying Kipper. His owners had agreed to let the Fat Controller run him in normal services as well as rail tours, thinking that it would be a nice change from being kept inside the National Railway Museum all the time. However, Mallard actually enjoyed the light duties of being a museum engine, and found real work to be unpleasant and tiring.

He had not been quiet about this either, and this meant that when Mallard arrived in Barrow with the Flying Kipper, Henry's crew was already fed up with him. They left him in Barrow yard and stalked into the yard master's office, and immediately asked for their engine to be assigned the heaviest, most difficult train available.

That train turned out to be a special load of unfitted stone wagons bound for the harbour at Arlesburgh. Mallard made heavy weather of the trip, and it took him almost five hours of slow and dusty running to reach Duck's branch line. His train was of particularly low priority, and he had been shunted into almost every siding on the line, something which rankled his express engine sensibilities enormously. His axles ached and he was so tired that he was almost seeing double.

Mallard tried to rest once he'd delivered the train to Arlesburgh, but Duck hadn't forgotten the things that had been said about Henry, and blew his whistle, wheeshed steam, and generally made a nuisance of himself to keep Mallard awake. When Duck left, Donald and Douglas arrived and picked up where he left off.

When the time finally came to return to Tidmouth, Mallard was in a state of outraged and overtired hysteria. He'd been awake for more than thirty hours at this point, had been yelled at by engines who were defending a fraud, and had been made to do real work! It was disgraceful! Despicable! Absolutely disgusting!

He continued fuming all the way to Tidmouth station, and was subjected to further indignities when he was left alone on the far goods platform.

At first, he thought that it would be possible to get some rest at long last, but that hope was dashed when a pair of green tenders backed down next to him.

“What on earth do you want, Cousin?”

“What is wrong with you.” Scotsman didn’t phrase it as a question. He glared at the A4 through exhausted eyes.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Mallard said graciously. “My paintwork is a touch shabby, my valves are worn, and I feel as though I could do with some more grease and lubri-”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that?”

“Yes. That.”

“Well I’m not sure that there’s anything left to talk about my dear Scotsman - you certainly seemed content to say your piece all through the night, and into the morning as well!”

“They- I- You- You have been preened and fettled just a bit too much, alright? It’s gone to your smokebox, and not in a good way.”

“Oh please. You and I both know I’m correct. That abomination is nothing more than a waste of good metal. He should have been confined to the cutting room floor just like his drawings.”

I can’t believe I’m listening to this. You sound like Deltic - you know, the original Deltic? The prototype who had BR’s men so far down his intakes that they were able to turn him evil?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar.”

“He said that he was inevitable, and that he would surpass us in every way, and that we would all fall to his greatness. He was a supremacist git, Duckie, just like you are right now.”

“I’d kindly ask you not to lump me in with monsters such as that.”

“Then stop acting like him. Actually, I take that back - do start acting like him; I had the chance to meet him a few years ago at the Science Museum - he’s had a complete turnaround, spent an entire hour telling me how sorry he was for everything. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize for something in my entire life.”

“Well I’ve never had to, and I doubt that I ever will have to.”

“Why don’t you start. Today.”

“Oh, be sensible! Why are you supporting the Mongrel anyways?”

“He’s -” Scotsman cut himself off. “All right, even if we ignored what you said about Henry - which we will not, by the way - Gordon is furious about this. I’ve never seen him so mad and neither have the other engines who live with him! You owe him an apology on top of everything else!”

“Feh! I don’t owe him anything! He’s scarcely better than the fraud!”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Oh don’t look at me like that! He’s a prototype! A first draft! A rough approximation of what was to come! Don’t tell me you haven’t looked at him! His running board has more in common with the Forgery than you or I, and they’ve even removed his center cylinder! His center cylinder! And his Gresley motion! The two things that make our line stand out above all the rest! He’s as much of a Gresley as that box on wheels they put on the Woodhead line! The only reason I afford him any respect at all is because he’s managed to ingratiate himself to that clergyman with a predilection for children’s books!”

“First of all, Tommy is just a much of a Gresley as we are-”

“Bah!”

“And second, where do you draw the line? Are there no true Gresleys other than you? Is it limited to just your class? Or does one have to be famous? Is Green Arrow a true Gresley according to you? Are Dwight or Dominion true Gresleys? Are the J50s? Am I?”

“Stop being melodramatic. Your undesirable shape aside, you are of course a Gresley, and so are -”

“Undesirable shape.”

“What? Oh yes, it’s very unfortunate, but true.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’s rather obvious if you think about it.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Just look at those of us who survived - they only preserved one or two of the rest of our family classes - just look at yourself, they only saved you because of your record - but they’ve preserved myself and five others! Clearly we are more desirable than the rest of you, and I have seen for myself how popular a streamlined body is.”

“You vainglorious little bas-”

“In fact, and I mean no offense, but if it had been Silver Link, Sir Ralph, or even a Thompson or a Peppercorn who hit the ton instead of you, they would be here and you wouldn’t. It’s that simple.”

Even through his exhaustion, everything Scotsman saw was beginning to get this strange red colouring. “You’ve crossed a line now, and you are going-”

“I’ve crossed a line?!” Mallard scoffed. “Scotsman, cousin, I am the line. The Line, against which Gresleys - no, all steam locomotives are measured against. I achieved something that no locomotive has done before or since, and I did so with loose valves, a failing cylinder, and a heavy-handed driver. You did something that Truro probably did before you were even drawn, except that you had the good sense to bring a dynamometer!”

Mallard paused. His smokebox was ringing like a damned bell, he was so tired, and he didn’t have any desire to be kind today. “And in case you start getting any ideas above your station about your fame or your glory and if that affords you some unearned amount of additional respect, old iron, let us remember that when BR decided to form the National Collection, They. Didn’t. Want. You.”

Scotsman was about to burst a boiler tube. He opened his mouth to say something equally hurtful when an aggrieved sounding “AHEM” could be heard from beside him.

There on the platform was the Fat Controller, who had heard everything, and was as angry as Scotman had ever seen a human being get.

“Oh, what is it now?” Mallard griped, showing that he had no sense in his smokebox at all.

Later

The Fat Controller spoke to the big engines that night. “Due to, err, extenuating circumstances, Mallard had to return to the mainland early.”

Exhausted cheers met this.

“Now, I understand that some of you might be disappointed by this,” The Fat Controller ignored them. “but not to worry. I have spoken to a gentleman whom I know very well, and I have arranged for another locomotive of Mallard’s type to arrive shortly. That way we will be able to accommodate all the people who have come out to see Gordon, Flying Scotsman, and Mallard all together.”

That engine turned out to be Union of South Africa - or Osprey, as she preferred to be called nowadays. She was Mallard’s polar opposite - bouncy and excitable, she relished the chance to have some “real work”, and made fast friends with the engines of Sodor before nightfall of her first day on the Island.

“Why couldn’t we have had her before?” BoCo asked the shed at large. “And do we have to give her back?”

Everyone laughed at this, and when Osprey herself backed into the shed a while later, she was met with genuine smiles.

“You all seem happy about something!” She chirped.

“We’re just glad that you aren’t rude like the last one was.” James said with surprisingly upbeat bluntness.

“Duckie...” She sighed. “What did he do now?”

Everyone told her, and when they finished, the happy mood in the shed had darkened significantly.

“So he thinks he’s in a class of his own, does he?” She said quietly. “He should know better than to say things like that.”

Even Scotsman looked at her quizzically at that.

“He’s… been doing this for some time.” She explained. “Being earmarked for preservation, not having to worry while we all did… it did things to him. We’ve all tried to make him stop - it gives the rest of us a bad name! - but with myself, Bittern, and Nigel on other sides of the country, there isn’t a lot we can do. And he clearly doesn’t respect anyone else’s opinions on the matter.” She looked at Scotsman significantly when she said this - Mallard hadn’t so much crossed the line as he’d driven over it at 127 miles per hour.

“Well we must do something.” BoCo, of all engines, spoke up from the other side of the shed. “Forgive me if I’m treading on any Gresley family ground here, but if one of my brothers had spoken like that, the rest of us would have paid him out from now ‘til the new millennium.”

Gordon, Osprey, and Scotsman looked at each other for a moment.

“I suppose we should…” Gordon began.

“He certainly deserves it.” Osprey said.

“But what could we do to him that isn’t wanton cruelty?” Scotsman pondered. “We are trying to be the bigger engines here, let’s remember.”

The engines paused for a moment to come up with ideas, but the quiet was soon broken as Henry was driven into the shed.

“You all look contemplative.” He said as he was spun around on the turntable.

“We’re just trying to - my word,” Osprey said as she took in Henry’s form. “You do look like one of us - no amount of Stanier meddling can change that.”

A pair of gasps rang out as Gordon and Scotsman had the same thought at the same time.

As everyone else looked at them, they both turned their attention to Henry.

“Henry…” Gordon said slowly. “Have I ever mentioned how-”

“I know what you’re thinking.” Henry said quickly, cutting him off. “And I will not be a party to it.”

“Oh come now, cousin.” Scotsman said slyly. “Tell me that you can’t see the appeal of this?”

“I’ve been in the same shed as your lineage for sixty years,” Henry said. “I will not be involv-”

“I see you haven’t given up on insulting children, have you?” Sir Nigel said as he was backed into the next road. Mallard was in the back of the shed, sulking; he’d been put back there several hours early after the parents at the heritage railroad’s open day had started complaining.

“They are sticky, and stupid, and young.” Mallard grimaced. “I don’t know how you put up with them.”

“I put up with them because I like them, and more importantly, they like me.” Sir Nigel said. “If they grow up not liking steam engines, then how will we survive when they’re adults? Boilers don’t grow on trees, you know - their ticket revenues will someday pay for them!”

A vulgar noise followed this, and the other A4 rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, Super-Engine is a piece of history; they’ll never rid themselves of you.”

“Did you come in here for a purpose, or am I to be stuck with you until the morning?”

“Yes to both, unfortunately enough.”

“Well, out with it - I want my beauty sleep.”

“I think you’d have to sleep for a month to manage any of that-”

“Why you-!”

“-but I do have some family news.”

“What is it? Be quick.”

“Did you know that they found another A1 prototype? I don’t know how this has only now come to light, but-”

“I said be quick.”

“ - but, new documents have come to light in Sodor. Apparently their 4-6-0 - I cannot for the life of me remember his name, but he’s the green one in the books - he’s one of us! Scotsman, Gordon, and Osprey all vouch for his pedigree, and when I saw Arrow, he was ecstatic at the prospect of expanding the family a little. Oh, and Morayshire is already champing at the bit to go out there and welcome him in person…”

Sir Nigel kept talking for some time, but Mallard didn’t hear him.

They adopted the fraud. Those savages.

89 notes · View notes

thefriendlyfour · 2 years

Photo

the conductor still strung up by his family

#my art #dwd oc #edward osprey

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psychosistr · 4 years

Text

Kings

Summary: Domino is forced to attend a party for FOWL’s top agents, and is having a hard time enjoying himself when the presence of someone in particular makes him feel very uncomfortable. Good thing Steelbeak’s there to provide both a distraction and some surprisingly good advice.

Notes: This was a little something written to wish @thefriendlyfour a happy birthday! Thanks for everything you do!

(P.S.- All OC’s in this story belong to her, not me)

Dominic was not having a good time…

It wasn’t often that FOWL High Command granted permission and spared funds on things deemed “unnecessary” for work. Everything from bank heists to political blackmail schemes and even the smallest pieces stolen from museums- every cent earned was carefully accounted for, recorded, and allocated properly. FOWL was a big organization that had many facilities to maintain- and even more workers to pay (maintenance and repair men, scientists, eggmen, all the way up to the special agents) to keep everything running smoothly.

Still, even with everything that had to be paid for, High Command understood the basic concept of things like “morale” and had to relent and reward their workers- particularly their top agents- every once in a blue moon (though it was mostly to make sure that they would feel content with their jobs and not try to leave and use their skills and training to make it as solo villains). Parties seemed to be the easiest and most effective way of keeping employee morale up: It only took one day of actual work, and food and beverages were easy to acquire and serve. After that, all that was required were a decently sized venue and some half-way decent music.

That was how the chief officer of FOWL, Steelbeak, and his partner, Dominic “Domino”, found themselves spending the evening in a heavily fortified and closely monitored outpost several miles away from Saint Canard at a party for FOWL’s most accomplished agents.

The large central room of the relatively unused outpost had been cleaned up and hastily decorated with a few different colored lights and decorations that were likely leftovers from the last party that had been thrown there. There were tables of catered food and drinks ranging from standard soda to a large punch bowl and even a fully-stocked bar all along one wall, leaving the majority of the floor open for agents to mingle and converse freely. The wall opposite the food and drinks housed a small stage that was being used for the evening’s entertainment: A small but highly talented orchestra with a full string section and a full-sized grand piano that had been brought in just for the occasion.

The party had been in full-swing for more than an hour already, but Dominic wanted nothing more than to leave and it was for one reason and one reason alone…

It wasn’t because he hated parties. Granted, he was by no means a party-loving social-butterfly, but he could still have fun and enjoy himself so long as the venue wasn’t overly crowded and his fellow partygoers weren’t so intoxicated that they forgot to respect his boundaries. In fact, compared to the parties he’d been dragged to at the northern base (which tended to involve excessive amounts of alcohol, brightly colored flashing lights, deafeningly loud pop music, and half of his team drinking to the point of passing out while he stayed sober to keep them from getting into too much trouble), this was one of the nicer soirees he’d been to in a while.

It wasn’t because he disliked his fellow agents. While there were still many new people that he was getting acquainted with and had yet to familiarize himself with each and every person present, the others in attendance all seemed like intelligent, capable, reasonable individuals who were pleasant to converse with in small doses. They also had enough common sense to not trust one another, so no one was trying to get hammered- meaning no loudmouthed or clingy drunkards to deal with, which always made for a much more pleasant evening.

It wasn’t because of his partner- if anything, the other man’s presence was one of the only things making this whole evening more bearable. As chief officer of FOWL, Steelbeak’s presence was required at any gathering of its most elite agents, which meant that Dominic, as partner of the current chief officer, was also required to attend. To the loon’s surprise, Steelbeak seemed even less excited to attend the event than his partner, stating that he found High Command’s mandatory gatherings boring and repetitive (if they were all like THIS, though, Dominic could certainly understand why the rooster felt that way after eight years of forced attendance). The lighter fowl’s hushed banter and sarcastic remarks about the party and some of the other agents never failed to bring a small smile to his more serious partner’s face and even elicited a few quiet laughs that were drowned out by the music.

No, everything else at the party was somewhat boring, but otherwise tolerable…except for one thing…one frustratingly perfect, ever present thing that he tried VERY hard to stay as far away from as possible…as long as he stayed by the wall and what he was trying to avoid stayed in the center of the room conversing with another agent about who knows what, then he’d be fi-

“Geez, short fuse, ya look like you’re waitin’ for a bomb t’ go off.” The familiar voice of his partner offered the loon a much needed distraction from his thoughts.

Dominic glanced away from the crowd of agents in front of him and looked instead to his approaching partner who’d broken away long enough to join him in his sequestered corner against the wall by the stage. “If that were the case, we might have a valid reason to get out of here.”

Steelbeak leaned against the wall beside the loon, looking across the room at the bar as if he were seriously considering it as a solution to their current predicament. “Well, there IS a full bar over there…find me a microwave an’ a can of that spray-on oil from the kitchen and I could whip somethin’ up.” It was hard to tell how much of that was actually a joke.

A smile tugged up the corners of the darker bird’s beak even as he shook his head. “Tempting as that is, we would probably just receive orders to turn the event into some sort of ‘garden party’ in the woods..and I know how much you love nature.”

A visible shudder ran down the taller fowl’s body at the thought of spending that much time out in the forest. “No-ho thank you, all that fresh air makes me gag.” He even made a retching sound to prove his point, earning a quiet laugh from the other man that made him smile and laugh along for a moment. “So, if we’re not all ‘bout t’ go out in a big ball of fire, then why’re ya over here lookin’ like you’re ‘bout t’ dig someone’s grave?” He asked after they’d both had a moment to regain their composure. “I’d ask if someone touched ya or somethin’, but I haven’t seen anyone go flyin’ through a wall or stuffed inside a cello case, so it can’t be that bad.”

Darn it, Steelbeak had gotten too good at reading the darker bird after three months of dating him. At times like these, Dominic wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed or grateful for that fact…

“No, nothing that extreme yet.” Red eyes glanced over the crowd and once more found their target. “I’m just…trying to avoid someone..”

Dark grey eyes followed the other’s gaze and landed on a well-dressed man who stood out among the crowd. “Wait…Osprey? Ya know ‘im?”

Of course he knew him. Who didn’t?

Agent Edward Osprey was a statuesque brown and white hawk that was even taller than Steelbeak. Everything about him was elegant and perfect from his immaculate feathers to his tailored blue suit coat, long-tailed shirt, black pants, and neatly folded white ascot. On top of being well-groomed and well-dressed, the man was undeniably handsome with his sharp features and piercing black eyes offset by yellow sclera- his eyes were even accentuated further by the brown band of feathers that cut perfectly across the lighter feathers on the rest of his face. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a painting; to have such perfect features shouldn’t have been possible in nature.

Oh, but the perfection didn’t end at the osprey’s looks- oh no. He was one of the most musically talented men Dominic had ever seen, being both a concert-level pianist and conductor- the orchestra which provided most of the evening’s music had been led by him when he wasn’t playing the grand piano for the crowd’s applause. The hawk was also an incredibly skilled agent specializing in sharp objects and weaponry with a nearly flawless track record under his belt. Add to that the fact that he was nothing but charming and gentlemanly to everyone he met (enemies not withstanding), and you had the walking reality-defying-perfection that was agent Edward Osprey.

“We’ve..met before, yes…” Dominic folded his arms over his chest, trying to look away while still keeping the source of his current stress and anxiety in his peripheral vision.

“Ya don’t sound too thrilled ‘bout it.” Steelbeak pointed out while eyeing his partner with one brow cocked. “I’m guessin’ ya don’t like the guy?”

Oh boy, now THERE was mine field that was difficult to navigate.. “I don’t…dislike him..”

“But ya don’t like ‘im either, right?” Once again, Steelbeak proved how good he’d gotten at reading the loon over the past few months.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, Dominic closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind them. “…Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Hmmm, weeeeeellll~” The fake contemplation ended when a single red eye opened just enough to side-eye the rooster with a warning glare, making said rooster break into a grin. “Alright, alright, I’ll hold it in.” The red eye narrowed at him and he held up his hands to show he wasn’t crossing any of his fingers. “Promise.”

Though he hardly trusted the other man’s word, Dominic would take what he could get. After taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes again, the words he’d been trying to avoid speaking aloud finally came out. “He makes me feel………uncomfortable..”

A brief but repressed snicker was heard before his red eyes opened and gave the taller fowl a warning glare. “Sorry, somethin’ in my throat.” A clear lie, but Dominic let it slide (this time). “So, why does Mr.Fancypants over there make ya uncomfortable? Knowin’ ‘im, he probably didn’t do nothin’ to ya on purpose- the guy takes it as some sorta personal offense if anyone forgets their manners ‘round ‘im. Think he’d have a stroke if he was the one bein’ rude for a change.”

“No, he isn’t rude- I don’t think he has it in him to be anything less than an absolutely perfect gentleman.” The loon looked across the room again, making sure the man in question was still far away and that no one was close enough to overhear him aside from his partner. “And that’s part of the problem: He’s just so..so-!”

“Practically perfect?” Steelbeak supplied, the look he gave the shorter fowl both amused and understanding.

“Yes.” Dominic groaned, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. “He’s just so perfect in everything he does- he’s attractive, strong, clever, talented, gets along with EVERYONE, and has the highest record of successful missions in FOWL ever.” His eyes lingered on his hand as it lowered once more. “He’s so infuriatingly perfect that it makes me seem so…” His words trailed off into a mumble at the end, not wanting to voice how the hawk really made him feel…

“So, just t’ make sure I’ve got this whole thing right-” The lighter bird began without waiting for Dominic to repeat himself (likely because he knew he wouldn’t do so willingly). “Osprey’s so perfect that ya feel less perfect bein’ around ‘im?” Darn it, three for three- Steelbeak was on a roll tonight.

“Who wouldn’t?” He didn’t bother to look at his partner again while muttering his response.

He was right, of course: Who wouldn’t feel inferior next to someone like Edward Osprey?

“Heh.” The answer he received was a short, clipped laugh followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

By the time Dominic looked back up to see what the other man was doing, the metal-mouthed fowl was heading towards the stage. “Steelbeak?” He called after him, but received no response.

One by one, others in the room began to notice the new figure stepping up onto the stage. It had been vacant for about twenty minutes now, allowing Osprey and his orchestra to take a break and enjoy the festivities themselves. With this in mind, it was understandable that the others in attendance were reasonably surprised to see none of the previous performers take to the stage- but the chief officer himself.

Steelbeak ignored the confused looks and hushed whispers as all eyes in the room were suddenly on him. He simply cracked his knuckles and shook out his fingers before seating himself at the grand piano, never even acknowledging them or saying a word.

Then, after taking a quick breath, he began to play.

The melody was captivating- soft but passionate; steady but rapid; light but powerful. Everything about it was such a contradiction, but it somehow just worked. It seemed to change and evolve as the song progressed, sometimes changing to the point of almost seeming like a completely new song, but then that familiar pattern would find a way to weave itself back in naturally to connect it all back together.

And then there was the sheer amount of skill and movement of those off-white fingers across the keys; they were practically a blur during the crescendos. The notes came so quickly that Steelbeak’s hands were never still, even for a second, often having different fingers of the same hand playing at completely separate rhythms from one another. Honestly, it was astonishing that they didn’t trip over themselves. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them fly and jump from one key to the next with expert timing.

Dominic was transfixed by the sights and sounds. While Steelbeak had told him of his experience as an undercover concert pianist on their first date, he had never actually heard him play before. He’d also never heard this song before, but there were no doubts in his mind that few could play it as well as Steelbeak was then and there.

Managing to tear his eyes away from the spectacle long enough to look around the room, it seemed he wasn’t the only one to feel that way. Everyone was staring in awe at their chief officer’s jaw-dropping performance. Even Osprey, who’d worked his way closer to the stage since the song began, seemed genuinely shocked and amazed by Steelbeak’s playing.

The song reached its final crescendo and Steelbeak let it drag on for a moment. Before anyone could pick their collective jaws up off of the floor and react appropriately, however, he immediately began to play another tune.

While still incredibly difficult to play and requiring a good deal of hand-acrobatics to hit each note properly, this one was softer than the last. There was something light and almost..sweet to it- as if the first one was to show off, but this one was to communicate something deeper.

This was another song that Dominic was unfamiliar with but, judging by the similar movements required to play the complex melody properly, it felt like it was by the same composer.

It stirred something in him as he listened, the gentle tune causing a pleasant shiver to linger in his body and a warm feeling to blossom in his chest. For a moment, he thought of the love songs he’d heard in the past- of their cheesy lyrics declaring adoration that ultimately became meaningless with how many people sang those words over and over again. Those songs were cute, but they ultimately felt hollow without a sense of genuine romance to them.

This song, though…This one, without any words or blatant messages to project, somehow felt more like a true love song than any the loon had ever heard in his life. This was raw, passionate, gentle, and beautiful all at once…and he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t have him blushing a little..

By the time Steelbeak finished playing and stood up, the partygoers had recovered from their initial shock and finally applauded the exemplary performance they’d been treated to. Steelbeak, for his part, just smirked and gave a quick wave over his shoulder as he left the stage, not even taking a bow despite how well-earned it was at that point.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Dominic began once the other man joined him against the wall once more. “But what was that about?”

Steelbeak looked down at him with a smirk, but it was less teasing and far softer than usual. “Just MY way of answerin’ your question.” Before the loon could ask for clarification, Steelbeak looked towards the piano he’d just been playing. “You were askin’ who wouldn’t feel less perfect ‘round someone like Osprey: I wouldn’t ‘cause I know I’ve got somethin’ I’m better at than him.” Dark grey eyes returned their attention to the red ones still looking up at him. “One thing I’ve learned from bein’ chief officer all these years is that ya can’t be better than everyone at everythin’, someone’s ALWAYS gonna have somethin’ they’re better at than you are. The trick t’ stayin’ on top an’ remindin’ everyone why YOU’RE the king an’ they’re the pawns is t’ find the one thing you’re better at than whoever you’re up against an’ make ‘em feel like you’re superior ‘cause of it.”

Dominic took a moment to digest this new philosophy. It certainly seemed to make sense, and would probably explain why Steelbeak always acted like he was better than everyone- it was a way to stay on top and keep others from challenging him by appearing superior. While this information was useful, there was still one part of the chief officer’s advice that was easier said than done: “So you’re saying that I have to find something I’m better at than him? That’s asking a lot since I don’t have any comparative talents like you do.” Dominic didn’t really have much experience with playing instruments or conducting, so he couldn’t use that for any sort of advantage (and while his singing voice was pretty good, he’d never heard Osprey’s so it would be hard to compare them). They were experts with completely different weaponry, so no luck there. The hawk had a better track record for missions than he did, so he couldn’t use anything work related. “I don’t think-”

“You’re a better leader.”

Red eyes blinked in confusion and stared up at the taller bird. “What?”

“You’re a better leader.” The other repeated once more, looking down at the loon with an expression halfway between a smirk and an encouraging smile. “Osprey’s got one heck of a record with missions an’ gets along with everyone, but you’re a better leader than him: Ya know when t’ be nice an’ when t’ be serious. Ya know when t’ listen t’ others an’ when t’ make ‘em listen t’ YOU instead. Ya walk int’ the room an’ command guys three times your size t’ shut up an’ do what they’re told an’ put ‘em in their place if they even THINK ‘bout talkin’ back.” With a smirk, he inclined his head in the general direction of the crowd. “That’s why you’re over here with me an’ he’s over there with them. Sure, his track-record’s higher, but YOU’RE the one High Command picked t’ stand at the top with me- ya beat him an’ everyone else in FOWL for your position ‘cause ya deserved it.” Having made his point, Steelbeak reclined fully against the wall once more, his hands raised to cushion his head against the hard surface in a casual manner. “If anyone ever makes ya question yourself, just remember: I actually listen t’ YOU.”

Dominic was floored (and..maybe a little touched?) by his partner’s words.

After a moment of contemplation, he began to feel a smile slip onto his beak. Steelbeak had a valid point and wasn’t just stroking Dominic’s ego: The loon WAS a pretty good leader. He could coordinate teams ranging from two people to two hundred. He learned his teammates’ strengths and weaknesses and planned around them accordingly to complete any task he’d been assigned.

And, if nothing else, getting someone as bigheaded and arrogant as Steelbeak to listen to him HAD to count for something.

Before he had the chance to thank the chief officer for his rare-words of encouragement, another voice added itself to their conversation. “Steelbeak, your performance was absolutely awe-inspiring!” Looking away from one another to see who’d come to join them, the deadly duo saw none other than Edward Osprey approaching them. He smiled and bowed his head politely. “Do forgive my intrusion, but I simply HAD to commend you for your beautiful rendition of La Campanella: That is an incredibly difficult piece that I struggle with even after a few warm-ups.”

Steelbeak ate up the praise as one would expect, giving Osprey a smirk while idly bringing one hand around to inspect his fingers like a girl checking her nails for imperfections. “Woooow, really? That’s what I play FOR my warm-ups. Start with the harder ones an’ everythin’ else’s easy, y’know?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Osprey was quick to agree, never losing his genial smile. “Though, I must say, I didn’t know you were so familiar with Liszt. Your playing of Love Dream was very emotional- anyone in particular you were dedicating that performance to?”

That actually seemed to trip the rooster up a little, Dominic catching a bit of red on the other’s cheeks between his light feathers as he tried to play it off cool-and-casual. “I mean…maybe…it’s just a song, though, no big deal..”

It was Dominic’s turn to smirk knowingly at the other man. “Well, if there was someone you had in mind while playing it, I’m fairly certain they would have found it beautiful and charming.”

Steelbeak side-eyed the loon, his cheeks going a bit darker, but was saved by another agent coming up to them. “Hey, can you play one more? Everyone loved you out there!” To the trio’s surprise, the request was directed at Steelbeak rather than Osprey.

“Eh, I dunno-” Steelbeak started to say, but his eyes wandered over to Dominic and something in those dark grey depths shifted. “…Ya know what? Sure. I can handle one more.” Then, to everyone’s delight, he walked back up to the stage and took his seat at the piano once more.

“I had no idea he was so talented.” Osprey admitted to Dominic once the lighter bird was out of earshot. “I must admit, I’m a little jealous that you get to work so closely with him- that man’s been chief officer longer than some of us have even been agents.” He looked away from the stage to meet the loon’s gaze directly. “I can only imagine what you must have gone through to earn his respect and companionship.”

“Thank you. It has been.. a journey, to say the least…” Dominic was more than a little surprised..but not necessarily by the taller man’s words- Osprey was polite to everyone and was no stranger to sincere flattery. No, what REALLY surprised the loon was the fact that he just had a conversation (albeit a brief one) with Edward Osprey without any feelings of anxiety or inferiority rising up within him.

What Osprey said next was lost on Dominic as he heard Steelbeak begin to play. This song was different from the others. It was a completely different composer, era, and genre of music- one that the loon was all too familiar with since it had been played in his car a couple of times while his partner sat beside him in the passenger seat praising his singing of the accompanying lyrics. A soft smile tugged at his beak as Dominic listened to the equally soft melody, knowing that this was likely just Steelbeak’s way of driving his earlier point home and wasn’t really meant to be recognized by anyone else.

It was Dominic’s turn to receive a few stares- first from the other agents in the room, and then from Steelbeak himself when he passed in front of the piano to grab the microphone that had been left in its stand nearby. Once he removed it from its spot and made it more mobile, Dominic walked closer to the piano and leaned against it casually. He did a circular gesture with two of his fingers and Steelbeak smiled, instantly knowing what his partner wanted.

Without missing a beat, Steelbeak smoothly looped the song back to the beginning and nodded to Dominic when it was time to join in.

Nodding back, the darker bird brought the microphone closer to his beak and closed his eyes as he began to sing. “You're a-lone. You're on your own. So what? Have you gone blind? Have you for-got-ten what you have and whaaat is yours?”

He blocked out the stage lights; blocked out the crowd around them and their eyes on him. “Glass haaalf empty~, glass haaalf full- well~, either way you won't be go~ing thirsty; Count your blessings, not your flaws.”

There was only one set of eyes on him that mattered right now, and he knew the look they held without even having to see them. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to bed…You can be king a~gain…”

Another quick breath stolen between verses and he gained the confidence to open his eyes, but he kept his gaze locked solely on the one gazing back at him with awe and adoration. “You don't get wha~at all thiiss i~s a~bout. You're too wra~pped up in your self-doubt. You've got that young blood, set it free…”

The smile on Steelbeak’s face was brighter than any of the lights pointed at the pair on stage, making Dominic feel twice as warm and making him smile just as much. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to~ bed…You can be king.”

There was a spark of something in the air between them- that same connection they shared when they were working together to take down an enemy that made both of them feel so much more aware of one another on a completely different level. “There's method i~n my ma~adness…There's no looogic in your sa~dness…You don't gaaiinn a siinngle thing from misery~yy…Take it from mee~ee…”

He used his free hand to close the piano’s cover, careful not to let it drop and ruin the gentle decrescendo of the song. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to~ bed…You can be king.”

Dominic gracefully lifted himself up to sit on the closed piano, one hand holding the microphone in front of him while the other was braced behind him so he could lean back with his legs crossed in front of him- head tipped back as he belted out the notes of the final verse. “You've got it all! You lost your mind in the sound! There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown! You're in control- Rid of the monsters inside your head! Put all your faults to bed…You can be king again!”

Red eyes met dark grey, one additional line being sung softly and with so much more feeling than any other line before it. “We can be kings a~gain.”

Steelbeak’s playing came to an end and the two were left staring at one another fondly. There were cheers and applause and words being called to them, but neither man payed them any mind.

After all, they were the kings standing at the top.

End Notes: For anyone who’s curious, here are the songs that Steelbeak played in order: The first is La Campanella by Liszt. The second is Liebstraum No.3, also known as Love Dream, also by Liszt. And the final piece that Domino sang along to at the end was King by Lauren Aquilina.

When choosing the first two songs for Steelbeak to play, I asked a couple of my friends who were piano majors in high school what the most difficult type of music to play is that still sounds good. The general consensus among most of them was, and I quote, “people who hate their hands but love to please others usually play Liszt”- and La Campanella came up repeatedly as one of the hardest songs to play, so I went with it xD

Once again, happy birthday to @thefriendlyfour / @eleanorose123 ! Hope you had a good one and thank you for another year of awesome content!

#steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #darkwing duck #dwd #darkwing duck oc #not my oc

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techmaestro · 3 years

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real name: Anthony Edward Stark (usually)

single or taken: That varies wildly by verse but he’s often taken.

abilities or powers: Consistent across the board is his sheer intelligence and his ability to create things. How these manifest sometimes varies wildly from verse to verse.

eye colour: Golden Brown

hair colour: Usually dark brown, sometimes black or red tinted depending on specific verses.

family members: This varies by verse, but in his default it follows his MCU family connections which means his AI babies, his spouse, and his kiddo. Kiddos? He adopts kids a lot.

pets: Not really a pet person but one version of him has a pet octopus.

hobbies/activities: Sewing, music, driving, parkour, dancing. There’s more but those are big ones.

animal that represents them: Verse dependent but both Ospreys and Lynx. He’s definitely a cat.

worst habits: Not caring for his physical needs unless absolutely required. Hiding food around. Going passive in the face of disapproval from loved ones. Blaming himself for things he wasn’t at fault for.

role models: Howard Stark, Edwin Jarvis, Ana Jarvis, Maria Stark. Depressingly, also Obadiah Stane.

sexual orientation: Ace who likes romance.

thoughts on marriage/kids: Tony is compelled to create life. He just is. Even at the height of his most self destructive verses he makes beings that could count as children, and he wants to be with someone, though the way he goes about it and who he chooses aren’t always remotely good for him.

style preferences: It depends what he’s doing honestly, but he’s a sharp dresser pretty much all the time if he’s going anywhere specific. He knows what makes him look good.

approach to friendships: You have become his friend. No, you don’t get a choice about it.

thoughts on pie: Pie is alright, though he can’t figure out how they work. Pi, on the other hand. Yes.

favourite place to spend time at: He has a tendency to climb things, but his favorite place to go is always whatever workspace he has. He’ll live there, given half a chance. He didn’t like that about Pepper’s house.

swim in the lake or in the ocean: No.

their type: Tony loves competence. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to get his attention if you’re determined, intelligent, and unwilling to take no for an answer to keep his focus on you in some way or another. This isn’t always the case, but often.

camping or indoors: Indoors. Tony’s never gotten the hang of camping.

Tagged by: @the-blackest-spider

Tagging: @astarklandscape @ironxkid @artificiallyimplantedmemories

#meme answer

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heritageartifacts · 3 years

Photo

We locked eyes. It was the first time in ages a male made me feel so happy, so encouraged, so... excited. The birds have returned, the once silent mornings belonging to a different season. This island’s situation on eastern Lake Ontario makes it one of the most prolific birding areas globally, with more than 350 species of birds recognized during spring and fall migrations. But it was the osprey’s return I’d most eagerly anticipated. - Osprey (Pandion haliaetus) are the second most widely distributed raptor species (after the peregrine falcon). Their diet mainly fish, they breed within 12 miles of freshwater lakes, rivers, swamps, and coastal brackish waters. Growing up in New England, I saw high-reaching poles in the center of marshes, platforms perched on top. Spilling over the sides were osprey nesting materials; sticks, driftwood, seaweed, grasses, and even humanity's garbage, newly upcycled. On this island, these poles are everywhere: parks, backyards, in the middle of fields, alongside county roads. - Ospreys are migratory birds, flying from this continent’s northern parts to winter in Florida or Mexico, and even Central or South America. Many log more than 160,000 migration miles in a lifetime. Their massive wingspan of up to five feet, the muscular legs, the brown stripe on a white cheek, and the tufted head feathers make them appear powerful and prehistoric, a working man's eagle. Osprey mate for life, returning to the same nest each spring. The males sprint ahead to refresh the digs, repairing winter's damage. Like a suburban couple with means, the female soon joins him, re-arranging his efforts. Some of these homes have been used repeatedly for 50-70 years, becoming as large as 10' wide and deep enough for me to slumber. The house in order, mating begins in earnest. The male performs an aerial dance with a fish or nesting materials in his talons, hovering and swooping above the nest, sometimes as high as 600 feet. He continues this courting ritual for upwards of ten minutes, screeching his desire before floating into the nest in a leisurely manner, a slow striptease for an afternoon lover. - You had me at ‘hello'. - #beforethewifegetshome (at Prince Edward County) https://www.instagram.com/p/CNYAEPrr-nIbewQM2J4vZDumcDCx57BOFPIvmE0/?igshid=219j7avk32qs

#beforethewifegetshome

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rjzimmerman · 4 years

Link

Excerpt from this story from National Geographic:

There are now 60 to 100 alewife runs throughout the state, Whitener says, and the numbers keep going up as more dams are removed, enabling the return of not only alewives but also other migratory fish: salmon, shad, sturgeon, blueback herring, striped bass, eels. He rattles off some statistics: The Kennebec alewife run, no longer stoppered by the Edwards Dam, is estimated at about five million. The Penobscot, reopened by the taking down of Great Works and Veazie Dams in 2012 and 2013 respectively, now has two to three million alewives swimming upriver.

Whitener has a particular affection for alewives. Unlike their close cousins Atlantic herring, which spend their entire lives in the ocean, alewives traverse the ecosystems of the land—they’re anadromous, spawning in fresh water and living their adult lives in the sea. This “biomass across the state—15 million fish or so that come inshore into rivers and into ponds—just moves so much energy and so many nutrients into the freshwater system,” Whitener explains. “Absolutely everything eats them.”

Indeed, it’s a long list of creatures that eat alewives in both fresh and salt waters, among them seals, whales, eagles, osprey, herons, mink, skunks, raccoons, otters, black bears, and other kinds of fish—not to mention insects and crayfish and the microorganisms that consume and process what’s left.

#dams #dam removal

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hpoelzig · 4 years

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Pondering GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS (2019)

Director Michael Dougherty amply demonstrates his credentials as a Godzilla fan in bringing to the screen a film that lovingly references myriad aspects of the various Toho series since 1954. This lavish and detailed homage to the legacy of Godzilla is full of nods that aficionados will find delicious and our favorite daikaiju have never looked more conscious and gloriously alive. It is crafted in an American summer blockbuster style in its breathless pacing so that one has to be quite sharp to spot all the goodies he’s woven into this third episode of Legendary’s MONSTERVERSE. While Gareth Edwards’ 2014 GODZILLA employed a Spielbergian touch, Dougherty offers the most Toho-esque installment so far in this franchise.

Essence of Toho

In my review of the 2014 Edwards film, I had speculated that a MONARCH-centered approach would be best going forward, and indeed that has been the case with both KONG: SKULL ISLAND and this film. Dougherty has taken that Toho Showa series’ leap into “super science,” with defensive masers, secret bases around the globe enveloping recumbent daikaiju, and the ORCA device, meant to communicate with the Titans. This approach, sort of sci-fantasy, enlarges the sandbox in which he can play and recalls what has been part of so many prior Godzilla outings. MONARCH’s Argo, an immense flying wing, seems to echo the various “Super X” vehicles from the Heisei series, the Marvel Comics S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier Behemoth from their Godzilla: King of the Monsters series, as well as being a nod to both the flying wing from George Pal’s THE WAR OF THE WORLDS (the Northrop YB-49) and to the name of the ship from JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS, so well depicted by Ray Harryhausen. One particular delight for me was the Osprey’s arrival at the Castle Bravo facility, recalling the opening of DESTROY ALL MONSTERS, where a helicopter descended into a similar circular vertical tunnel to reach the hidden base on Monster Island. And, as Toho had done with its production design, these MONARCH scientific/military installations are full of gigantic screens surrounded by flashing lights from which “officially concerned” humans can monitor the global monster action at a safe distance.

Eggleton’s Impact

I was impressed by the painterly cinematography in this most Eggletonian-looking of Godzilla films—I actually expected to see Bob acknowledged in the credits as his visual style so permeates many scenes. Fans of his paintings cannot miss how much of the imagery is flavored by this extraordinary artist’s numerous works. That impressionistic sensibility Edwards had captured in the HALO descent to San Francisco scene infuses much of this movie. And his method for viewing the Titans from human perspectives to make their scale apparent was also deliberately maintained by Dougherty. Despite so much care having been lavished on the sweeping imagery, these sumptuous frames fly by in fractions of a second, which has sadly become the standard action film approach to editing and pacing. That for me is a disservice to those who clearly worked diligently to craft impressive and iconic visuals—such splendor should not be snatched away so swiftly from our hungry eyes. Lingering just a bit longer on some of these fantastic moments would have been so much more satisfying. When King Ghidorah seizes Rodan’s volcanic aerie and regenerates his missing head in a very bizarre, placental manner, his dominance over a foreground cross suggests his demonic power, much as FANTASIA’s Chernabog perched atop Mount Triglav—a gorgeous and potent symbol. He then sends out a call to rouse the world’s Titans to do his bidding as their “usurper king.” That pivotal moment passes far too quickly. Would that the two flanking heads have paused and then looked to the central dominant head, who would return their gazes, then look skyward and begin voicing “the call.” Then the other two would join-in, very deliberately, with some unearthly new sound reaching out to be that irresistible global conscription summons. That could have kicked the scene up significantly. The triple voiced sound used in the film was less of a command, rather a sort of keening, which quietly lingered in the following scenes of the other Titans awakening. For my tastes it should have had more of a dramatic emphasis—and have been audibly unique to the moment. Even somehow having King Ghidorah take note of his new troops as they each arise and perhaps respond audibly to his summons would have made his dominance much clearer and more exciting—perhaps cutting back to him as his heads express a knowledge of each new disciple’s activation?

Daikaiju Design

The designs of the quartet of classic Toho stars move to the top of my favorites, as each are detailed, expressive, and dynamic. Tweaking Godzilla’s look to enlarge his dorsal plates and having them flicker even when not powering up for a blast of nuclear plasma works well—he crackles with latent energy. While the 2014 look is an excellent, naturalistic one, changing the primary row of dorsal plates to repeat the 1954 design and then bumping up the secondary rows to Heisei-styled size makes him more in line with earlier Gozilla incarnations. I’d still like him to sport a proper tertiary row of plates that are clearly defined, which has been a common aspect of many incarnations of the King of the Monsters. Taking those sauropod-esque feet and enlarging the claws for more of a predatory aspect looks fearsome, and I like the shortening of the whip tail of the 2014 version to be more like the standard Godzilla profile. And having a new climactic revival of “Burning Godzilla” was a fine choice, reigniting that concept from GODZILLA VS. DESTOROYAH. King Ghidorah is masterfully realized, a proud successor to DRAGONSLAYER’s Vermithrax Pejorative, who can fly, stride or wing-walk with sinuous beauty. That aspects of his wings echo a William Blake image of the Red Dragon really makes for such resonance. The three heads being somewhat independent with unique personalities was also a superb concept. Ghidorah’s condescending curiosity regarding those nasty, puny humans he was seeing for the first time—even to licking their corpses to explore them—brought forth his diabolically sinister consciousness. His gravity beams and the neck-glow charge-up are splendid. Mothra in her bioluminescent glory is stunningly conceived, from impressively carapaced larva to majestic moth-mantis-wasp imago—magnificent, mysterious, and with a feminine puissance. Rodan as the fantasy firebird, a magma-veined pterosaur, fiendishly skeksis-esque in angry avian awareness, has such presence. Bowing like a courtier to both the usurper and finally to the true king, he exhibits a calculating, conscious persona. His thrilling barrel-roll to take out the pursuing jets was about the most spectacular image we’ve seen of him, ever.

As Toho had done in SHIN GOJIRA, Godzilla’s roars from the various series were employed, as well as his roars from the 2014 film. I was hoping for more of the very deep vocalizations from the 1954 original. Mothra sounded as she always has, with plaintive chirrups and screes. The cries for both Rodan and King Ghidorah were not the originals, and were for me a bit more “generic giant monster” voices. I would have loved to hear new recreations of those readily recognizable Rodan yawps and cackles, and much more forward versions of KG’s triple toned “bidi-bidi-bidi” voice—rather than the faint references buried in the raucous sound design. I rather expected more original Toho monster sounds than were used for both of them, since Daugherty was employing past iconic sounds for both Godzilla and Mothra and seemed to be teasing that during the film’s production.

A Grim Setting

While there is some humor—not all of it apt— intended to break tension, the plot of this film builds upon the global revelation to the people of Earth that past super species were essentially their “gods,” knocking present day humans down a few notches on the dominance pyramid. The context is alarm and terror, though the MONSTERVERSE also offers awe and wonder as viewed through some of those studying the returning Titans. Serizawa remarks in a senate hearing that humanity should be viewed as Godzilla’s “pets”—and he means it. He respects “all forms of life” and sees our world as one that must have a balance which is inclusive of its natural organisms, regardless of where we might end up in Nature’s organic tapestry. Over the course of the film, much is learned about the fascinating past history of human societies who lived in harmony with the Titans. Toho implied some of this in their films—Mothra was regularly portrayed as an eternal goddess for the islanders she protected—but here it is made quite explicit and detailed. Godzilla’s temple lair in submerged Atlantis, with gigantic friezes and sculptures honoring him, is surely an enrichment of this ongoing saga. There is a dark side to this scenario wherein some see humans as being abusive to their world and thus in need of being forcibly “tamed,” and then there is the collective might of the military who want to subjugate these creatures and restore man’s preeminence—behavior that began in the original GOJIRA and sustained throughout most of the films.

Dr. Emma Russell is an oddly polarized primary character. To begin, she seems a concerned mother who has rescued her daughter Madison from her husband’s descent into alcoholism, which had been incited by the death of their son Andrew during Godzilla’s San Francisco battle with the Muto’s. An aside: That plot aspect is reminiscent of a similar character motivation in the third of Kaneko’s Gamera trilogy, wherein a young girl’s commitment to invoking the destructive daikaiju Iris is sealed by her parents’ collateral death during a monster rampage in the first film where Gamera, an Earth defender, destroys his adversary Gyaos. That Emma is no “mother of the year” is quickly exposed when Allan Jonah’s eco-terrorists arrive to snatch she and her daughter (and her Titan controlling ORCA device) after they execute the innocent MONARCH crew studying Titanus Mosura. Emma has indoctrinated her daughter to comply with her pursuit of shattering mankind’s toxic presence by releasing the Titans as “antibodies” to the virus that is human kind. And Emma is in cahoots with these extremists, her obsession being the first cause setting in motion the slaughter of her MONARCH colleagues in China, Antarctica, and Mexico as well as the other locations wherein the Titans are roused to destroy their containment facilities. And countless others then perish around the globe as the revived Titans rage. The script makes her somewhat sympathetic as a mother—she is shown to love and be concerned with her daughter and mournful of her son—but one could not give her a pass for the oceans of blood on her hands. Nor should she be forgiven for making Madison a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Madison, comprehending the grievous practices kindled by her mother’s theories, does awaken to reject Emma’s deeds and then she strives at great risk to use the ORCA to solve the global catastrophe wrought by both Emma and Jonah’s fanaticism. There is a cut scene in the video release of Madison training with the eco-terrorists which would have underlined her submission to her situation—I would have included that for the parallel with Patty Hearst it presents. Madison ultimately is heroic, and her father Mark renews himself by stepping-up to guide MONARCH’s efforts to understand and control the Titans. He provides some crucial insights based on his knowledge of animal hierarchy and behavior. Ultimately, Emma seeks atonement through her sacrifice, which brings some justice to her character’s story, while Mark and Madison are reunited in a world reeling from cataclysmic destruction. A rather “heavy” arc to this family’s journey, and properly symbolic in dealing with present social concerns. I think that it seemed to be missed by many viewers who were more concerned with the pyrotechnics of the battling Titans, but for me it is a properly grounded human story which offers a grave context to the monster spectacles.

Homages A Plenty

There are so very many references in this film, both visually and via dialogue—“Easter eggs” abound! I’ll touch upon a very few, leaving exhaustingly listing them to other obsessive fans. I enjoyed the numbered MONARCH outposts having significance—the release year of the film in which the Toho daikaiju there contained was a delight and also the fun nod to THE THING in the Antarctica outpost numerical designation. Modernizing the Shobijin by having Doctors Chen and Ling, and generations of twins in their family, as “priestesses” of Mothra is an excellent touch. The new Titans are gleeful references to mythology and cryptozoology, demonstrating that many cultures have embraced daikaiju throughout history. Intriguing archaeological mysteries are touched upon such as 12,000 year old Göbekli Tepe, hinting at past humans dealings with Titans. Even an article in the jam-packed end titles is authored by Steve Martin, the character played by Raymond Burr in the American version of the 1954 film which was first to be titled GODZILLA, KING OF THE MONSTERS.

MONARCH’s mission critical submarine is named USS Scorpion, after an American nuclear submarine which was lost under mysterious circumstances, and it has a Captain Crane, like The Seaview in VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA. Its conning tower likewise has Seaview-esque planes and shape. The skeleton of Anguirus has a cameo, briefly glimpsed outside of Godzilla’s temple lair, and if only we’d gotten a better look at more of the Atlantean art paying homage to Godzilla—there seem to be monumental figures with Godzilla heads atop humanoid bodies holding some sort of ceremonial weapons which Serizawa passes on his way to revive his “old friend.” A sculpture of Pazuzu is glimpsed atop a step pyramid in that lost city—such artifacts all sadly obliterated to revive Godzilla. Some more time to drink in this elaborately detailed majestic setting would have been appreciated.

Several key plot events here are reshufflings from past Godzilla films. The concept of one daikaiju sacrificing itself to revive another was pivotal in GODZILLA VS. MECHAGODZILLA 2. There, Godzilla is tortured to near death by electrodes from Mechagodzilla which pierced his body and fried his secondary enlarged ganglial areas. Fire Rodan, nearly expired from his conflict with Mechagodzilla, as a dying act drapes himself atop the fallen Godzilla, evaporating into a sparkling mist and then both healing and resurrecting Godzilla, who now has an even more powerful, red-tinged plasma beam. In GMK, Godzilla is the “heel” who fights the more positive trio of Baragon, Mothra and King Ghidorah. Godzilla seemingly kills King Ghidorah, so Mothra makes a direct, suicidal flight at Godzilla who evaporates her with his plasma breath—shared imagery with Daugherty’s film, though here King Ghidorah and Godzilla have reversed roles. In Kaneko’s film, Mothra’s energy descends upon King Ghidorah in a sparkling cloud, reviving him and enhancing his wings and gravity beams for the final combat with Godzilla. That Godzilla thrives on exposure to radiation has long been part of the basic lore of many of the films, and his revival and enhancement through extreme exposure was no surprise as being primary to the MONSTERVERSE’s mythology. And the scene wherein King Ghidorah “powers-up” via biting electrical cables in the Boston battle reminds me of Kong being electrically revived in the original KING KONG VS. GODZILLA. Godzilla’s expression as King Ghidorah takes that bite, and then the massive arcs of electricity that spread out from his wings to clear the attacking human’s jets are both such memorable moments—which could have been given just a bit more time to accommodate earned “oohs and aahs.”

The novelization of GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS goes into detail about some of the Titans only glimpsed or simply listed in the film, and one hopes they’ll emerge in the next or further MONSTERVERSE installments—if any. There is a beautiful, brief passage in the book which is told from Godzilla’s point of view. We see through his eyes his responsibility as the lord and protector of this world—the globe is his domain and he is aware of the entire planet, sensing time passing through the shifts in Earth’s tectonic plates. He is aware of the much younger Kong, but unconcerned as Kong is only responsible for Skull Island. We know Kong is the last of his kind, and Godzilla also seems to be as well, though in the comic prequel to this film the story of the Godzilla-esque skeleton infested with the two Muto spores was explained as being Dagon—perhaps his elder “cousin”? The Muto which killed him was vanquished by Godzilla between the 2014 and 2019 films in that comic, which also serves to explain the change in his dorsal plates, which Dougherty has said are continually growing, like antlers. It would be a delight if the Kraken, snoozing as it embraces a sunken nuclear submarine, and Mokele-Mbembe, designed according to the legends as part serpent and elephant, had scenes in the films to come. If Godzilla at some point must sacrifice himself to save the world, discovering another younger member of his species in the Hollow Earth regions would not be surprising and would also embrace that “son of Godzilla” concept used in Toho’s series. The sunken Atlantis being part of the subterranean world evokes Verne’s JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH, and of course the 1959 film adaptation concludes with a gigantic lizard menacing the remains of the Lindenbrook party in its ruins. Perhaps there are other humans (humanoids) “down below” as well, in fascinating antediluvian cities, much as Toho posited with the Seatopians, or even like the subterranean Sumerians from THE MOLE PEOPLE? Possibilities abound!

The Score

We’ve been quite fortunate that the scores for Hollywood Godzilla films have been powerful, thematic, and thoughtfully composed works wrought by talented composers. Both Arnold and Desplat crafted magnificent music that expressively carried the action. McCreary’s is the first MONSTERVERSE score to incorporate iconic themes for both Godzilla and Mothra from the Toho scores, and these quotations were well-timed and heightened the drama. Additionally, his new themes are both strong and memorable. The thematic material for King Ghidorah constantly iterates the number three, and the general rising melodic line is even kin to that of Holst’s “Mars, The Bringer of War” from THE PLANETS. The chanting monks’ voices offer a mysterious sense of religious awe to support the diabolical “destroyer of worlds.” Rodan’s theme features whooping horns, as if to echo the “Samurai of the Skies” cries. Even the film’s opening quiet theme has that “Go-Ji-Ra” rhythm that was used in both the 1998 and 2014 films to craft memorable new musical signatures for the King of the Monsters. Most touching was the gorgeous choral music accompanying Serizawa’s Spock-esque sacrifice—which even visually rhymed the descent of the mini-sub with the photon torpedo casket sequence from THE WRATH OF KHAN. The MONSTERVERSE’s Serizawa is essentially a transmogrified Dr. Yamane from the 1954 GOJIRA, a man who studies and appreciates Godzilla as a living being. By having him sacrifice himself not to destroy Earth’s dominant Titan, but to revive him with a nuclear weapon and thus save humanity, works as a pragmatic inverse linking him to the original Dr. Seizawa, the self-immolating physicist who conceived of far too deadly a weapon in the Oxygen Destroyer. McCreary’s “requiem” suited that sequence to perfection. When Godzilla rises again and blasts forth his plasma beam into the sky, the Ifukube-based accompaniment was deeply moving, and the moment Godzilla looked to his human saviors was delightful. He seems to acknowledge their role, much as that of the people from a past civilization who had idolized him, and the soundtrack even has a fleeting phrase of Ifukube’s Godzilla theme much as it was scored for high woodwinds in the requiem from GODZILLA VS. DESTOROYAH—a very brief and subtle nod. McCreary’s triumphant symphonic apotheosis of his own opening Go-ji-ra theme over that concluding acknowledgment of the Earth’s true monarch brought me chills. Being followed immediately by McCreary’s magnificently over-the-top arrangement of B.O.C.’s song “Godzilla” to commence the end titles was fan service of the highest order. Its refrain, “History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man!” is of course the underlying theme of the Legendary MONSTERVERSE. “Bravo!” Maestro McCreary!

Could Be Bettered

Some minor cavils. I prefer to hear the word Ghidorah pronounced in the more euphonious Japanese manner, with the three syllables (ghi-do-rah) given equal emphasis and the first one slightly higher in pitch. One can hear it when watching Toho’s original Japanese prints with English subtitles. Americans emphasize the second syllable (Ghi-DOR-ah), and thus the middle one sounds like the English word door, while the Japanese put the R on the third syllable. I’d have dropped that weak gonorrhea joke, and the “very long fortune cookie” line was a tad clumsy, and a bit out of place for the dignified Serizawa. In this film he seems to take a bit of a back seat to Dr. Mark Russell, once he’s on the scene, which is a bit of a disservice to his character for me. And that his sidekick Dr. Graham is so quickly dispatched by King Ghidorah during his emergence seemed a bit too casual—her character was a fine one, and I’d have enjoyed more from her going forward.

The film brings back the Oxygen Destroyer, a wonderful nod to the original, and they hint at it being tested in the news crawl Madison and Emma have on in the background in their opening domestic scene at the China base. The news commentator’s reporting of “mass die-offs” must be from the military testing it. Rather than having it come as a surprise announcement when the incoming missile is announced by Admiral Stenz, I think that viewers should have been clued-in earlier, and rather easily. The audience primarily sees things from the point of view of the MONARCH characters. But if we go to that senate hearing scene, from which the MONARCH crew departs having been alerted to the eco-terrorist attack on their Mothra temple base—despite being warned that there will be consequences, that scene could have briefly continued. Admiral Stenz would reveal to the committee, once Serizawa and crew have departed, that the military now has a prototype weapon that they think could be used to exterminate the Titans. We’d cut from the blurred footage of the Mutos on the monitor to a graphic of the Oxygen Destroyer (what we saw later when Stenz alerts the Argo team), while Stenz declares this is their tested proposal for conquering the Titans. If one wanted to flesh it out, then perhaps running some brief footage of it killing fish or other forms of life with some dark accompanying music would be a strong punctuation. But even that wouldn’t be required, just that graphic and a Stenz voiceover would have done the trick. So, rather than ending on a weak joke about blurred Titan genitals, we’d have the Oxygen Destroyer’s revelation as added tension for its eventual use.

With such wonderfully detailed renditions of the Titans, particularly the four Toho guest stars, I think they went a bit too far in trying to fit them into their environments by surrounding them with clouds, mists, and fog. This gives the Titan scenes an overall soft and painterly feel, and I can enjoy that aesthetic choice, but seeing the creatures that were so very carefully designed, and whose movements are crafted in such a convincing manner, being obscured far too often I think was an error. Dialing that back somewhat would have been a wiser choice—show us what you’ve got! Particularly in the expert choreography of the battling Titans—which in some scenes appears to have been inspired by Matt Frank’s compositional style—being able to see how the tussles and tumbles progress with greater clarity would have enhanced the viewing experience.

Wishful Thinking

I would hope that there might eventually be a “director’s cut” in some future boxed-set home video release of the MONSTERVERSE films that would relax the pace of this film somewhat—taking time to linger on the beautifully crafted images so that we won’t have to freeze-frame to savor the glories on screen. And the storyboarded but unfilmed mid-credit scene of another Mothra egg being sung to by twin young girls in another hidden temple space beneath a modern city should be added-in or at least exist as part of the extras—possibly an animated version? If the box office returns from the next installment don’t justify further live action films, it would be fun to have a MONARCH-centered animated series exploring the numerous Titans and how humanity must deal with them. The cartoon series that followed the 1998 Emmerich GODZILLA film was quite an improvement over its progenitor, so I suspect something similar could happen with this franchise going forward once live action films are no longer produced.

The Coming Conflict

Daugherty has reportedly had some plot input towards Wingard’s upcoming GODZILLA VS. KONG, and so the end titles give us glimpses into what might be to come via various briefly shown illustrated articles. One explains that the newly emerged Titans were being drawn to Skull Island, so one has to wonder if that locale could at the conclusion become the “Monster Island” of the MONSTERVERSE? That it is a gateway to the Hollow Earth is an exciting prospect, for more mysteries abound there. Already the rumor that the APEX corporation, which funded Colonel Alan Jonah’s eco-terrorists, is now behind the construction of Mechagodzilla (the toys of this character have been leaked already), who will have an ORCA variant built-in to lure Titans to the slaughter.

King Ghidorah can regenerate in an unearthly manner and the director has mentioned in interviews that his consciousness is spread through his body. Daugherty has said that whatever might have fed on the carcass head could perhaps become some sort of mutating “legion,” perpetuating King Ghidorah, from flies to any sea creatures that took a nibble, if the series goes on. The rumor mill suggests that materials from the brain of this dead head have been used to create a bio-tech controller to enhance Mechagodzilla. Now that we’ve gone to a Showa series sensibility, the film makers have a great deal of latitude for referencing some of the more fantastic concepts from earlier films. With the biggest blockbusters today being super hero fantasies, one need not try to pretend that MONSTERVERSE films are bounded by the laws of our Universe. The relatively more “realist” approach of Edwards’ 2014 GODZILLA has been evolved into a broadly fantastic approach, which reflects much of what Toho had done in all of its series.

Fan Reactions

It seems some Godzilla fans on message boards are now turning on Dougherty’s epic—everyone seems to want each new film to be their vision of the perfect Godzilla film and then disappointment sets in when it isn’t. Yet so many of the films throughout the ongoing saga of Godzilla have been silly, cheesy, daffy, and sometimes just dopey—yet many of we aficionados embrace them all for their charms, after all, we get to see more of Godzilla and his fellow daikaiju. They appeal to quite a wide range of viewers of all ages, and as one ages, different films might head a favorites list based on one’s evolving tastes. Better that more Godzilla tales are wrought and released, regardless of whatever flaws we might find. In GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS the incarnations of our old favorites and some intriguing new Titans are truly extraordinary, brought to vivid life with contemporary effects capabilities. Never before have these sorts of films been graced with such mammoth budgets and been seen by such large audiences around the globe—a golden age for Godzilla is upon us.

Huzzah Daugherty!

Despite its flaws, I find so much to love in this film, particularly that final scene. After Godzilla has vaporized his age-old rival and literally “smoked” his final head, the Titans summoned by Madison’s activation of the ORCA in Fenway Park arrive. Godzilla, battered and weary from his strivings has exhausted the energy gifted to him through his ally Mothra’s sacrifice—like Heracles after his many labors. This unbowed victor is at last confronted by the other awakened super-species. It looks like a further battle could ensue, as Rodan swoops down at last. But, that canny firebird knows his place and thus submits to the true king, with a nod and almost a courtsey-like gesture of his cape-like wings. The other Titans then “bend the knee” and Godzilla bellows his triumphant “skreeonk” as McCreary’s music superbly supports this coronation scene. I felt such a powerful frisson at that moment and do with each repeat viewing. The Titans demonstrate their consciousness, intelligence, and their sense of natural hierarchy in what is one of my favorite conclusions in the entire canon of Godzilla films.

So, I salute Daugherty and all the others involved in what for me is a grand outing for all of the Titans and a very fine addition to the roster of Godzilla’s adventures. I’ve watched it many times since I saw that first Thursday night preview screening, and I continue to enjoy it immensely. Like all of the earlier films, I don’t dwell on what I see as flaws, but I celebrate the unique wonders that have been wrought, and these abound in this Toho-redolent GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS.

The bar has been raised. Batter-up, Adam Wingard—let the MONSTERVERSE continue!

—Peter H. Gilmore

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