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walkuntilthedaylight · 3 years

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The people have spoken! How can I not give them what they want?

I'm gonna put this all under a cut, since it's a bit long, and also because it's highly interpretative/speculative and not everyone likes those kinds of posts as they can be rather subjective and, I suppose, invasive. I want to give two major caveats to my thoughts below: first is that I tend not to buy the idea that Paul was the "stable/normal" Beatle, mostly b/c I view marijuana dependency and workaholism as addictions and I take them pretty seriously. Second is that I really do love this kind of tabloid/gossip/personal account shit; I think it should be taken with a handful of salt, but I don't think it should be entirely dismissed out of hand either. I read this stuff like I'm piling up sheets of stained glass: I'm intrigued by the places where the colours blend and overlap, and ignore things that fall outside the prism. Anyway, let's dig in:

Okay, so what I found fascinating about 'Body Count' is that it's one of the only sources which observes Paul McCartney's mental health during the period between the India trip and when the band breakup really got rolling. I think it's overall a fairly self-absorbed text that definitely has some lies and exaggerations peppered in there to make things spicier and more dramatic, but its broad characterization - as I mentioned in my first post - isn't exactly libelous or out of left field. Some elements that make me think it's generally if not wholly authentic are: Paul's simultaneously forceful and dorky seduction style, his terrible Liverpool diet and poor housekeeping, the bouts of thrill-seeking recklessness, avoidant adventure crafting, dark moods when drinking non-socially, the occasional hot and cold bouts with the Apple Scuffs camped out at his gate, and the way in which he underplays his drug habit, which is SO "in truthfulness we spent most of the filming of Help! slightly stoned":

These details are so bizarrely specific and have significant overlap with both sympathetic and spurned personal accounts of Paul I've read in the past, so I believe Francie is just telling "Her Version Of The Truth" here rather than crafting a piece of pure fiction. The most important and revealing anecdote in the book is this one.

There's no reason not to believe this is a fairly accurate representation of something that actually happened, imo, since we know that anxious purse strings were an ongoing issue in the unusual turnover rate within the band Wings, and there are plenty of confirmed and rumoured cases alike of extended family members feeling entitled to a "piece of the pie"; this is just like, the kind of thing that happens to working class people who get catapulted into fame and fortune. And Paul in particular already had deep-seated financial anxiety for whatever reasons he'll never fully admit (as is his right, but I think his offhand claim that he "once heard some adults arguing about money and that's why" might actually be alluding to having heard some adults - y'know, like his parents - arguing over money fairly frequently). What esp interests me about the anecdote is the way Paul seems to connect the conflict b/t his dual "identities" with these financial expectations. Perhaps the CAPSLOCK emotional hysteria related in the book is puffed up for drama, but it does bring to mind one of the most revealing comments Linda ever made about their relationship, which is that Paul needed to be told he would still be loved when the cameras weren't rolling. And that's the thing: Francie caught Paul at the exact moment that the pillars of his Smile-For-The-Camera "Beatle" identity were collapsing; the dissolution of his relationships with John and Jane.

Whatever all this could possibly mean re: the breakup of the Lennon-McCartney partnership is a post for another time. What I wanna do instead is apply the level of speculation we usually reserve for that relationship to the endpoint of Paul and Jane's courtship.

So like, Paul and Jane: I know people are resistant to this specific POV, but I honestly just don't... think it was that deep? "Not deep", mind you, doesn't mean "not significant". Paul was obviously Jane's first love (u never forget), but the feeling I get from Paul's side (as a subconscious process I mean) is that Jane's importance was primarily as a lynchpin in his London Socialite persona. He loved her family, he loved the friend group, the artistic scene dating her gave him access to, as well as the leg up he got in the class system, etc. He liked to be the kind of guy who was dating Jane Asher. But I don't know that he was the guy who was dating Jane Asher, you get me? When people describe their "great love" they accidentally tell on them (Cynthia innocently describing Paul as being pleased to have her on his arm like a trophy; John: "it was an ordinary love scene"; Alistair Taylor noting that Paul was humiliated by the breakup). Paul's a serial monogamist who U-Hauls like a lesbian, of course, so he definitely took the relationship VERY seriously, but it's telling that all of his love songs to her were either about hitting a brick wall in arguments (certainly not dreamy, fond, yearning of "sunday morning fights about saturday night"; and occasionally expressing hints of class tension too), or completely non-descript Guy With A Guitar Trying To Get Laid shit. I could extrapolate a lot about Linda just from listening to McCartney I/RAM and the Wings discography, but 'And I Love Her' doesn't tell me a single thing about Jane besides that she's pretty. It could be about literally anyone the same way 'My Love' or 'Maybe I'm Amazed' could only be about his dynamic with Linda. Some of this is obviously the natural result of getting older and gaining emotional maturity; what I'm saying is that Paul's behaviour and self-expression in this relationship does not suggest to me that it was one in which his emotional maturity was able to develop or flourish.

I want to stress again that I don't think this belittles the significance of the relationship or makes it "bad" or "fake". Like, sometimes hot people just date for a while in their teens and twenties and love each other without necessarily unlocking their inner emotional cores, usually because they don't know how to. It's, like, fine. You need to experience relationships like that as stepping stones. I simply believe that this sort of front-facing social importance being prime in the romance is a major factor in why it ultimately didn't work (and probably in Linda's reported lingering jealousy of Jane, who wasn't just an ex, but also a symbol of the life Paul ditched to build a new identity w/ her, and sometimes still pined for). With Jane, Paul was dating the "right" kind of girl (didn't put out on the first date, erudite and middle class, as serious about her career as he was, a good "celebrity" match), but the relationship often wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. Francie's observation is that by 1968 it also wasn't doing what he needed it to do either. This is the overwhelming "mood" in her affair with Paul McCartney: that he needed something very badly from a romantic partner that he just was NOT getting, and Francie couldn't figure out what it was either:

(note that she means "queer" as in "mad", not "gay")

This was an EXTREMELY roundabout way of asking: well, what WAS it that Paul needed a relationship to do for him? And I think this is Francie's big, accidental insight. The most scandalous claim in 'Body Count' is that Paul told Francie that he hit Jane and it "turned her on".

I personally think this is p. absurd absent any real proof to back it up, but like, what is Francie actually saying HE'S saying here? If she's exaggerating or lying, she's trying to make it believable within the psychological parameters laid out, right? It's not an expression of some secret desire to dominate women she's accusing him of, but emotional disturbance and confusion at the idea that the woman he was with might like that sort of forceful, masculine violence more than his softer, feminine side, which he was - yeah, we all know it - deeply insecure about.

Regardless of whether specific details are true or false (and I think there's both in this story, all hyper-magnified to make it, y'know, a ~STORY~), I think what might be true is the emotional undertow of the retelling, that this all taken together is actually representative of the side of Paul McCartney she was exposed to, at a time when his public and private facades had both become unbearable to the point of cracking and the drug-fueled optimism of the Summer of Love was getting scrubbed off of everyone and everything. It's the Paul McCartney who eviscerated frogs because he was worried he was too "soft" for compulsory military service. The Paul who modelled his masculine teen behaviour off John Lennon's fake "Marlon Brando" swagger, but was actually more fond of the velvet "Oscar Wilde" interior.

What's SO FASCINATING about all this to me, is I deeply believe that one of the key factors in what makes The Beatles music so unique and compelling is that both the songwriters experienced psychological strain from the tension b/t their parochial socially-defensive "masculine" pride, and their sensitive "feminine" core, the latter of which they were able to express in the unburdened emotionality of their music. The reason I care about doing these totally unhinged psych analyses is because I do think it reveals something about the underpinnings of the music, as well as the reasons why the band was such a hysteria-inducing phenomenon (the rise of psychology, imo, is almost as important as the rise of industrialization as a defining factor of the modern and postmodern eras; mass psychology can be understood and wielded in precise ways, and The Beatles were one of the first empires built on that). The subconscious drives caused by this tension have been ENDLESSLY picked apart re: John's psyche, but Paul's "mirrored" issues are very under-discussed (mostly b/c he's still alive so people are a little more leery about putting him on the "couch" as a historical figure). 'Body Count', intentionally or not, painted a portrait to me of someone who was drowning in their own ill-fitting celebrity "suit", collapsing under the weight of "Being" "Paul McCartney". A guy who desperately needed some sort of space to be vulnerable without feeling emasculated for doing it. By 1968, there was no one in his life anymore - and maybe there hadn't been for a while, or ever - who was giving him this space.

In other words: the thing he needed to avoid going "stark raving queer and killing himself" was simply someone who would love him 'after the ball'.

EDIT: read the comments for further clarification and discussion! ;)

#/#//#///#////#/////#the beatles #mccharmley #analysis #long post #Talking About Paul The Way I Talk About John lmfao #Taking Tabloid Bullshit Seriously #(if not literally)#*gets out my fake spectacles and jumps into the psychiatry armchair*#idk if i laid out my thoughts v well here but i hope it satisfied all the people who asked #i also tried to warn what genre of post it was for those who hate this kinda thing lol #i feel like i have more to say re: how toxic 'The Beatle' facade got for all of them by this point #and paul and john's mirrored post-india breakdowns #but francie's perspective is specifically on how it felt to be the girl he used to divebomb his relationship with jane asher SO

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rye-views · 4 years

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Ghostbusters (2016) dir. Paul Feig. 7.3/10

Kate McKinnon’s character was born for all of this to happen.

The way the government rewarded the ghostbusters after everything makes the most sense to me. To prep for the unknown future.

I like that previous cast was in this. I love Chris Hemsworth. Kevin from the Office. Cecily Strong.

Spoiler: [About Erin Gilbert coming up for tenure as a physics professor. A man comes to her about her book, which she co-published with a friend years ago. It handles the paranormal. She thought all copies were gone and he tells her it’s being sold online. She goes to the co-author, Abby Yates, who studies the paranormal at a different college. She tells her to take it down, but is refused. She is only accepted to have it removed after she receives tenure if she introduces Abby and her co-worker, Jillian, to the man who told her about the book and also that a ghost is at Aldridge Mansion. They meet him and the tour guide of the mansion, who had witnessed the ghost the previous day. They go in and the basement is locked and they move on until Erin steps on some slime and see the basement unlocked and opened all of a sudden. She confronts them for joking around with her and they claim they didn’t open the door and sees it open. They then see an apparition come from it and it sprays slime all over Erin and they get out after getting video footage and Erin freaks out and is stoked to have seen a ghost. This excitement is also in the video and posted online, and she is rejected tenure. They then start their own investigation team and move into the top of a Chinese restaurant. Jillian does amazing at creating weapons and tech for them to use in their investigations. They hire Kevin, who is very dim witted, but they need a receptionist and Erin finds him so attractive. An MTA employee talks with a weird man and notices that he goes onto the train tracks. She follows to stop him and sees a ghost, which appeared after he put up a device near the tracks. She goes to the team to talk about it. They confront the ghost, but fail to do anything about it besides being terrorized until it gets trapped on a train and moves on. They eventually catch a ghost with proton packs and a containment unit. The Internet believes it to be fake, but they are now considered to be the ghostbusters even though Erin wanted to be called the Conductors of the Metaphysical Examination. Patty, the MTA worker, joins their team and provides a hearse for their equipment since her uncle is in the business. Erin’s boyfriend, who completely ignored her as she was being fired, confronts her on her new life and she finds pride in it and dismisses it. The ghostbusters are called into a rock concert where a ghost demon is around. The audience just believes it is part of the show. The ghostbusters capture it as everyone watches and then they celebrate. A famous supernatural debunker visits them to see proof of the ghost and since they refuse, he believes them to be frauds. This hurts Erin’s pride and Abby tells her to ignore it since they are doing real research. She lets the ghost go and it pushes the debunker out their window, killing him. They police believe one of them killed him and then Homeland Security shows up, taking over. They tell them they have been investigating and know that what the ghostbusters are is legit, but they say they must make the public believe they are fraudsters or it will cause mass hysteria. Rowan North is the weird man that Patty had talked to and followed to the tracks and he is the one behind setting up devices. The devices have been spread across New York in the form of an X and the ghostbusters connect it to ley lines, which are historically known channel spiritual energy . The middle of the X leads to the Mercado Hotel, which is where there has been much paranormal activity. They go to the hotel and find Rowan and all his equipment. He ends up killing himself by electrocuting himself. They conclude that his equipment is very similar to theirs and they discover that he owns a copy of Erin and Abby’s book. Erin later flips through it and discovers his notes and finds out that his killing himself is part of a plan to come back and lead the dead in bringing an apocalypse. He does come back and takes over Kevin’s body after being slapped out of Abby’s by Patty. He considers it an upgrade. He manages to get his machinery to work and

manages to break the barrier and allows all the ghosts into this world. The police and Homeland security try to stop him, but they are all taken control of. Rowan in Kevin’s body makes them all mimic his movements, causing the whole to copy his dancing. He then freezes everyone as the ghost cause chaos everywhere. Some have even taken over the hearse. the ghostbusters are the only ones allowed to move about and they aim to stop him. Rowan asks them what form he should take and Patty asks for something small and cute and he turns into the ghostbusters logo. It then turns large and menacing. They realize that their proton packs aren’t strong enough to close the portal until they get the idea to use to nuclear reactor on top of the hearse. They narrow the road and get the ghosts to drive the hearse into the portal. They then shoot at the nuclear reactor and the portal begins to close. They have to make the ghostbusters logo go into the portal too before it closes and it seems to be holding onto the buildings to prevent falling in. They shoot him in the crotch area and he lets go of the building, falling into the portal. He ends up taking Abby with him. Erin attaches herself to this world and jumps after and saves Abby by shooting the logo with the proton pack. They are pulled back into their world, but have completely white hair. Everything goes back to normal and the mayor says he’ll fund them from now on so this won’t happen in the future. He says he’ll still deny the truth though because he can’t have that even though the entire public seems to now believe in the paranormal and that the ghostbusters saved them all. The press claims it’s terrorists putting hallucinogens in the water. New York ends up lighting their buildings to say they love the ghostbusters.]

#ghostbusters #2016 #paul feig #7.3 #movie #film #review #commentary #rye-views

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justzawe · 4 years

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I was the first anon that sent you the ask just after you posted Zawe's IG post. Then I went to bed because it was very late here. I was so happy when, waking up this morning, I got confirmed it was all real and not an episode of mass hysteria, due to almost 3 hours of Tom's live XD

I know, I saw it and I was like am I trippin or did she literally post proof she’s in Atlanta? Lost my shit

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dramallamadingdang · 5 years

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Replies, the God edition.

I promise that I’m not going to talk about this stuff a lot, though now I’m kinda thinking that I do want that sideblog, if only just to get down all my own thoughts in writing, which has always helped me to sort of mentally organize things. But, I did want to reply to a couple replies and also paste in some nonnie replies, so that I can get ‘er all done in one (long, of course *eyeroll*) post. I also apologize for not tagging previous posts as non-sims, for those who block such posts. In my defense, I’d gotten in from a night out and was in that “tired, but not quite tired enough to sleep” place, and in that place I get kind of spacey and careless. So I’ve fixed that.

So, anyway, replies for @snarkysims and @nimitwinklesims as well as two anons who sent me asks are behind the cut...

snarkysims replied to your post “Speaking of religion, I saw in a lot of MTS off-topic discussions that...”

I appreciate you being candidate about your journey. While I do consider myself to still be Christian, much of what you said resonated with me. I appreciate you being open to people regardless their beliefs. Cheers!

Frankly, I’ve never understood not being “open” to people of other beliefs, even when I was very Christian. I mean, that sort of attitude is...Well, not very Christian, is it? Christians are charged with bringing the gospel to the non-believer, and you can’t do that if you can’t meet people where they’re at in order to talk to them. Sure, some brands of Christianity are more isolationist, so as to avoid ungodly influence and whatnot, but as a Christian, I was always of the opinion that doing so was a mark of dangerously weak faith and that it defeated the whole “be in the world but not of the world” thing, not to mention making spreading the gospel that much harder. Our society has just become so polarized and tribal that it’s ridiculous.

Well, in any case, I love people of all kinds, whatever their beliefs about anything, and I have very strong disagreements, including religious ones, with some of my very best friends. I have no truck with the whole “purity test” business, wherein I can’t be friends with, or associate with, or ally with on issues on which we do agree, or have spirited discussions with people who disagree with me in any way. While I do understand the importance of having community with supportive like-minded individuals, what’s the point of always surrounding yourself with people who agree with you in every single particular? Mutual back-patting? Circle jerking? I’ve never understood that, and it’s only gotten worse with the whole “call-out culture” thing. No thanks.

nimitwinklesims replied to your post “Speaking of religion, I saw in a lot of MTS off-topic discussions that...”

For some reason I can't access the entire post when on mobile -- will try laptop later.. curious to read!

It’s probably because it’s freaking long! *laugh* I do go on, I’m afraid. *sigh* But if you still can’t read it, I’d be happy to copypasta it into messages or some other format.

I am so sorry that you were indoctrinated. I had difficulties breaking away even as a non-indoctrinated (self-indoctrinated?) convert. I still sometimes have nightmares about hell and all. So I can’t even imagine what it’s like for people who had this stuff drilled into their brains from birth. I am glad that you had the fortitude to escape. :)

It rather surprised me -- though it probably shouldn’t have -- that the “if Yahweh was proved to be real, I’d believe in him but refuse to worship the f***er” is a common theme among atheists, especially, it seems, among those who had a fervent belief at some point and then deconverted, as opposed to those who were raised secular and/or just never believed. Maybe it’s a reaction to betrayal. I mean, you spend “X” amount of time being spoon-fed carefully-chosen rhetoric and scripture and swallowing the notion that this character is all-loving, that he’s the very embodiment of love, and then when the scales are lifted from your eyes you realize how very wrong that is and, at least in my case, I really felt the weight of the time I had spent (and wasted) thinking that this character was something that he clearly isn’t, by his own words, if you believe in the whole “the Bible is the Word of God(TM)” thing. I was angry. I guess I still am. Not at god, per se -- because I don’t believe that god is real -- but at the people who deliberately misrepresent him in order to make more people believe in him.

I cannot presume to speak for all people for whom speaking in tongues is a thing. And even amongst fundamentalists, it is a not a thing for all of them. A good percentage of fundamentalists are, in fact, very opposed to the concept. It is primarily a thing in charismatic Christianity, which IIRC consists of maybe 400 or 500 million Christians worldwide of various denominations. (As opposed to the 2 billion+ Christians that exists as a whole.) So, it’s not a common thing by any means, on the whole.

And yes, they are babbling random nonsense, and IMO many of them are just faking it and deluding themselves. Why? Because within charismatic churches, speaking in tongues is considered proof of one’s born-again status. Meaning, it’s proof that you’re saved. So there is tons of pressure -- especially among impressionable children -- to do it, with the unspoken admonishment that if you don’t/can’t do it, then maybe you aren’t really saved, and if you aren’t really saved, then you’re destined for hell. So, you get situations like this clip from the Jesus Camp movie.

The other thing is that mass hysteria is a thing. Christianity is generally practiced in a group rather than as a strictly individual activity. We are social and imitative animals. So, if one person starts “feeling the Spirit,” genuinely or otherwise, sure enough other people start thinking “Hey, there must be something to this,” and then they start feeling it, too. If this happens among a large group of people, then it becomes truly awesome, in the original sense of the word rather than the 80s sense of it. And then you end up with things like the Toronto Blessing, and people swearing that they felt and/or were imbued with the Holy Spirit and then felt compelled to do all these crazy-ass things.

So, my own personal opinion is that the whole thing is part being conformist out of fear and part mass hysteria. But, like I said, I don’t really speak for anyone but me. For me personally, I have both faked it and experienced the mass delusion thing. Pentecostal worship services are wild. But, were I to speak in tongues now, it’d definitely be just faking it...but I can fake it really, really well. :)

#snarkysims #nimitwinklesims #replies #non sims

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thewriterwithnoplan · 5 years

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Hell and Back (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N Winchester is an enigma wrapped in a riddle. The half-sibling of the famed brothers and she was there through it all. Until now. After Jack’s birth she made a deal with Batman himself. His money for her expertise. She can pay for a real school and some online classes for her and Jack. All she has to do is enlighten the Team about her world. Easy peasy, right? Pairing: Supernatural x Reader x Young Justice Word Count: 1912 Warnings: None.

A/N: Might not do a second part. Not sure how I feel about this?

"What's this about a new member?" Wally all but sped into the lounge of Mount Justice. The team were splayed casually across the room. Robin lifted his head from his laptop, frowning at the speedster and tilting his head. "Did anyone even know? Batman just brought some girl through, talking about how she'd fit right in."

Artemis sat up quickly from where she'd been splayed on an armchair sharpening her arrows. M'gann's head snapped up in confusion. It seemed they hadn't known and by the others expressions they hadn't been enlightened either. Even Kaldur looked surprised, which was more that concerning considering he was the Team leader.

"Bats hasn't mentioned anything," Robin furrowed his eyebrows. He was quiet for a moment as if stuck in a deep thought. "Though he has made an unusual amount of business trips to Lebanon, Kansas. Does the girl look like this?"

The boy wonder turned his computer, showing the team - some of whom had to lean in comically to see - a photo. The girl was about Artemis' age, H/L H/C hair and E/C eyes. She was pretty if they were being honest but threatening. Her expression was hard and her eyes were set in a partial glare as if that was her default look. Wally gave a nod, causing half the team to deflate in annoyance. How was it fair for her to just be permitted onto the team. M'gann grinned at the picture, obviously happy to have another girl on the team - intense stare or no.

"What do you know of her?" Robin shrugged at Kaldur's question. Wally super sped over to his friend, snatching the computer to look at whatever the boy had open. It was a file on the girl and three other men. Robin gave an indignant cry chasing after the boy as he read the information to the team, all the while dodging the angered bird.

"Says here her names Y/N Winchester," Wally side stepped Robin with a smug grin. "Age 16, daughter of Dean Winchester-"

"What?" Conner raised an eyebrow at the boy. "Keep going, what else?"

"That's it." The room paused, even Robin stopped jumping for the machine, if only for a moment. "No medical records, no criminal records, no nothing."

Someone coughed loudly, tearing everyones gaze from Wally to the person. With the distraction Robin apprehended his computer and scurried back to his seat. Batman pegged them all with the famed Bat-glare™. Behind him a girl stood, hands on her hips and a wide smirk on her face. She wore a red plaid shirt unbuttoned over a white top and a pair of denim shorts. The team stared at the girl who looked nothing like her photo. Where it depicted a teen ready to murder the next person she met, this girl looked just as prepared to charm them to death.

She looked up at Batman and gave him a sincere smile. "I can handle it from here Batsy, thanks for the tour. Be sure to keep up your end of the bargain and I think we can do some good work here."

The bat merely grunted but a soft curve of his lips betrayed him as he flourished his cape and left. Y/N grinned at the assembled team and with a fluid few steps she slumped herself into the only empty armchair. Some of the members simply stared at the girl who dared to speak to the Batman like that. Better yet to demand something like a deal from him. The girl looked up meeting their looks before shifting into a proper sitting form.

Y/N opened her mouth as if to introduce herself but instead she decided on, "That informations wrong you know."

Robin gave an indignant grunt that was almost the spitting image of Batman's. It was Wally who spoke up for the Boy Wonder, "It's a Federal Record how is it wrong?"

"Because Wallace West," A pointed use of his identity that the group noticed. Though there was humour in the girl's voice, "Dean Winchester is my brother, I'm 15 and have a Criminal Record that runs for days."

"Ex-Villain then?" Artemis sat up to rest her arms against her legs. "Yeah we get those."

"Hardly," She snorted. "You civilians don't really call us anything, especially not Villain."

Aqualad rather uncharacteristically spat out his drink at the title. Had Y/N, this girl they'd just met, called them Civilians? Kaldur gave her an incredulous look. "We do not appreciate name-calling on this Team Miss Winchester. If you wish to be integrated into the group I would advise you refrain from it in future."

"Oh, I'm just here for the money," She grinned upside down at him as he once again spat out his drink. Money? Conner asked as much, his threatening tone not giving the woman a moment of pause. "You guys need me so Batsy is paying me to help."

"Are you mental?" Wally asked, nearly sincere. "We don't need someone like you. Saving people isn't some way to make money, it's-"

"The Family Business!" She leapt from her seat and stalked to the speedster, shoving a finger to his chest giving it a firm jab. "Saving People," Jab. "Hunting Things," Jab. "The Family Business." Jab. Jab. "Trust me I know, I've been in it since I was four. But you do need me, like it or not Kid Flash."

"So what?" The red head grunted. "You've been at it longer than we have? From my guess you're not Meta, maybe trained but by your not built as well as most of us. What's so special about you?"

"I'm an expert in the field that your all about to enter." A sly grin grew over the girls face. Wally opened his mouth to shoot something back but she beat him to it, "Did you know Wally that the only way to kill a vampire is beheading? Or that demons have to be killed with a one of a kind knife that I own? Or that the scruffy Chuck forsaken mutt in the foyer is half hellhound?"

The room burst into hysterical laughter that boomed off the walls. A few fell from seats or keeled over to clutch at their stomachs. Someone gave a howl of amusement, M'gann clutched at Conner's shoulder. Artemis was all but rolling on the floor, mouthing the words to herself just to curl up in a fit again. Wally was trying - and horribly failing - to hold it in. Robin huffed out something about having any proof between coughing fits. Once they'd calmed down Y/N deigned to answer.

"Round three years ago, the sun dimmed." She raised an eyebrow waiting for them to acknowledge her statement with a round of nods. "That was my brothers and I loosing a fight to God's sister, Amara. Four years before some biblical shit went down. Mass killings, plague of locusts, entire towns eating themselves to death, weather surges. That was the apocalypse. Beginning of this year power in half the country went out? Antichrist's birth, his name is Jack."

Some more hysteria, some wiping tears from their eyes. She supposed it would sound insane. Y/N had never had to explain it, that was Sam's job. And that was usually after a civilian had seen something supernatural already. The group began to quiet when Y/N rolled her eyes and marched into the centre of the room. Falling to her knees on the carpet she pressed her palms together and waited for utter silence.

"Hey Jack," She tilted her head back further, eyes closed reverently. "I know you and the boys are usually busy with the whole Michael thing but I could use a second opinion. I'm not hurt but I could use a hand."

Y/N opened her eyes and waited as the group barely surpassed snickers. Some muttering about religion loonies and she sent a glare in their direction. A signature whoosh of wind shut them all up. They turned slowly to the source as Y/N's eyes light up and she sprung up. Jack was standing with an adorably cute confused look on his face. He tilted his head at her in that way of his.

"Who are they N/N?" He waved at the group with a small smile.

"Well Jack-a-boy," She skipped to his side and ruffled his hair - though he looked quite a bit older and was a head taller. "This is the team I told you about. You know that hero team, their leader is giving us money so we can go to school. Cool right?"

The team blinked at the pair in confusion. School? Y/N was doing this so she could go to school when her friend was able to just teleport here? When she'd proved that the supernatural was real. Jack's eyes light up delighted and he grinned spinning the small woman round. She looked several years younger - in fact he seemed of legal age - and yet he was more of a child. Some gave her a pitiful look when she and Jack stopped spinning.

"So that blonde one is Artemis, then Wally, Kaldur, Conner and Megan." She pointed to each making them flinch with each name drop. "You can just call that one Robin. Team this is Jack Kline, he's Lucifer's son."

Jack screwed up his face at that, "Biologically. The Winchester's are my real family."

"Dude how old are you?" Wally muttered, though Jack had picked it up with his intense Celestial hearing.

"One year, four months, eight days and three hours." He told them seriously, they mostly just stared. "So N/N what did you need help with?"

"So I'm going to have to stay here a while Jacky." He pouted playfully at his least favourite nickname. "Anyway, with so many angels all over from the fall and the demons thinking we're still trying to shut hell, I need to put some warding up. I thought you could give me hand, I know Sammy's had you reading up on it at the bunker."

Wally gave Y/N a doe eyed look, "You live in a bunker and don't go to school? How much do you need this money?"

"Jeez dude, not that much." She huffed, giving Jack an encouraging smile. The nephilim nodded and snapped his fingers, eyes glowing golden as the walls shimmered. Runes splattered themselves up the wall.

"Is that needed?" Robin stared almost horrified at the marked wall, even as the symbols turned invisible.

"It is if you want Y/N here," Jack nodded thoughtfully. "She's a walking talking supernatural magnet. Not every human has been to hell and back, let alone heaven and purgatory. Anyway Y/N I've gotta head back, I think we caught a vamp nest up north."

"Have fun!" She pecked his cheek and waved as he flurried off in a tumble of shadow wings.

"Hell and back." Someone repeated as she turned back to the team. They were staring at her, as their worlds crashed around them. Y/N gave a nod, slumping back into her self-claimed armchair. They stared blankly at her.

The room erupted in questions.

#jack kline #wally west #dean winchester #batman #robin #conner kent #m'gann m'orzz #artemis #Sam Winchester #castiel #chuck #supernatural #dc #detective comics

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cellard0ors · 5 years

Text

Fic: the beginning is the end is the beginning

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved, Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Pairing: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej

Warning: Apocalyptic!End!Of!The!World stuff, mentions of dead people, mass suicides

Summary: The Titans have returned. The world has ended. The Ghoul Boys are still here.

Notes: HO-KAY. This is dedicated to @theawfuledges, who has always been super sweet, super supportive, and who had a bad day a while back and deserved something then but I. Take. FOREVER.

Inspired by this sorta-not-really-prompt-post and also the fact that @theawfuledges seems to also enjoy Godzilla. This is the Shyan!Godzilla!AU NO one asked for and probably NO one will care about - but! I had fun writing it enough that I’d consider coming back to it at some point - I mean, why not, amiright?

Anyway - excuse all my philosophizing about the end of the world via Titans and enjoy…

AO3 Link

They’ve been walking through the wasteland for almost an hour now and Shane can still feel Ryan’s eyes on his back. He ignores it, as he’s been ignoring it. He’s even whistled a tuneless song on and off during their walk, just to rub it in. A sort of reminder that he’s oblivious and doesn’t know Ryan’s trying to burn a hole through him. I mean, he does know, but it’s just…it’s too funny.

Ryan is always too funny when’s worked up into a snit. No, not funny…cute. Something Shane probably shouldn’t think about, but think he does. The best way to try to not think about it? Antagonize the little guy. So antagonize he does, finally stopping in their rambles to squat down at a larger than usual rock he’s kicked at.

It didn’t make him stumble exactly, but it caught his attention enough to make him stop and bend down. He tosses the smooth white stone around in one palm, grinning, “Well, well, well…ain’t you a nifty lookin’ fella…”

He stands back up, fully aware that Ryan has stopped a few feet behind him and is still glaring. Hell, he’s probably reached seething at this point. Balled up fists shaking at his sides and the mere idea of that imagery – the utter adorableness of it – breaks Shane’s resolve, “What?”

“Really?!” Ryan finally explodes and his voice cracks over the word and Jesus, the guy is too goddamn precious for words, “A rock?! That’s what catches your attention?!”

“Sure! This baby could be a geode! Just need to crack ‘er open and see if she sparkles!” Shane returns as he waggles the stone in Ryan’s direction, lips curled in a devious smile. He finally turns to look behind him and see Ryan and oh, no.

Shane wants to press a hand to his heart. Ryan has moved beyond cute, beyond adorable, beyond precious. He’s reached that level where it takes all of Shane’s willpower not to dart right over and kiss the breath out of him as Ryan cries, “I’ve been shooting death daggers at you for over an hour now!”

“Have you?”

“Yes, you monumental jackass! And I know you know it!”

Shane can only chuckle and Ryan frantically waves his arms about, “It’s been weeks now and we still have yet to talk about it! We just go out for recons, talk banal shit, and you – you stop for a fucking pebble instead of doing what you should do!”

Shane merely raises his eyebrows, that question enough and Ryan comes closer, breath all huffy and puffy and the perfect representation of a temper tantrum in human form, “Which is give me the world’s biggest fucking apology!”

“…for?”

“FOR?!” Another word cracked by hysteria, “Being right! Monsters exist! Or is this-” Ryan yet again waves about, waves around at the miles and miles of baked, orange earth and uprooted, long dead trees. The rubble of buildings long since lost, the endless expanse of nothing but baseless destruction – “-not proof enough for you?!”

Shane just dips the rock in Ryan’s direction like it’s the tip of a pointer, “Never said monsters weren’t real. I said ghosts weren’t,” he draws the rock back and continues walking, voice very sage, “And that continues to be a fact." He turns away and starts walking again, "Now the Titans? Oh man, those boys are flesh and blood. Meat and bone. Just like Bigfoot and hey, do you think-?”

“…stop it…”

Shane turns to look at him again even as he continues walking backwards, “-Bigfoot is a Titan?”

Ryan only stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. His earlier anger has finally spooled out of him thanks to his outburst, leaving only his normal Shane-oriented exhaustion, “I mean, he’s no Godzilla or Gidroah-”

“Ghidorah.”

“Hmm?”

Ryan’s tone is bone weary, “You said it wrong. It’s Ghidorah.”

Shane just waves a hand like it’s no big deal and Ryan stands up a little taller, clearly offended by the gesture. Perfectionist. Shane is pretty sure his smile is never going to leave, “Whatever. But Bigfoot…he can hang with the big boys, right?”

“I don’t think Bigfoot is capable of leveling Los Angeles which, news flash, is what happened when Godzilla and the other Titans trampled through!”

“It was their world first, pal,” is his amicable response, “We just have to do our best to live with it.”

Ryan looks less than pleased at that revelation and Shane can’t blame him. Still…

Finally Shane sobers, stopping to look at Ryan with all due seriousness, “Ryan…”

He doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t have to. Ryan just gives his own subdued head bob because, well, it’s the truth. They do have to do their best to live with it. What else can they do? They have no power over creatures taller than skyscrapers. Ancient beasts on par with living gods. The human race did what it could. It wasn’t enough. But – to be fair – what could they do?

Humanity always likes to think of itself as the top tier – nothing bigger, nothing brighter, nothing stronger. And within the span of a few weeks that was proven horribly untrue. Frankly, Shane always knew it would be – humility is something every living being should possess and a lot of humanity lost that long ago – but frankly, he’d been banking on aliens.

Not big ol’ monsters.

Regardless, they are where they are. In a world where massive creatures walk the earth and humans have been knocked down several pegs. Pegs that have to scurry out shelter and he and Ryan found it. They reach it now – an underground bunker dug deep into the earth by god knows who.

The first time they’d found the little hide-ho they’d intended to merely use it for one night, sure that the original owners would appear. But they didn’t. Night after night passed and no one came to claim the bunker – so Shane decided they should claim it for themselves. Hell, they took a bridge from a Goatman and made it their own – why not a bunker?

Hence why it’s colorful name – ‘The Goatman’s Bunker’. He’d even made a sign to that effect once they’d managed to scrounge up some paper and workable pens. Funny the things you find littered amongst the refuse. Like his cool new rock – which he now sets alongside other treasures he’s found in their travels. A kid’s beat up plastic car, a broken snow globe, a crushed cup advertising Disneyland (long since gone – a collectible now!), and other debris he found of interest.

Ryan takes off his backpack and reaches inside, digging out various goodies they scavenged today. Dented bottles of water (always a god send), band-aids, several tin cans of vegetables and meats, scraped bottles with unreadable labels and anything else he could shove in.

They’re both pretty sure they’d come across the ruins of some pharmacy today – maybe a CVS or Walgreens or something – but neither could be certain. But there had certainly been a nicer haul than usual. Some days they walked out into the wasteland and found nothing for miles but old car parts and the occasionally, questionable collection of garbage.

Sometimes…sometimes they found worse things…

Both of them tried their best not to think of those things. Awful, sad things. Dead things. Crushed things. They had a radio in the bunker and there was the occasional chatter, but mostly? Mostly the world was silent. Funny how quickly a world, its people, its governments – could fall apart in the face of something it couldn’t understand.

There was word of massive suicide sites. Places where religious fanatics scrambled, unable to comprehend a world in which something their God couldn’t have possibly made appeared. There was word of places where ground born militias formed. People bloodthirsty for revenge, willing to do whatever they have to, to fight back, to rage against the sky – against forces beyond their control. There has been a lot of different word…but nothing that really concerns the two of them.

At least not for now.

For now?

For now the Ghoul Boys have their Goatman’s Bunker and a questionable collection of cans that will provide tonight’s sustenance.

What Shane wouldn’t give for a can opener. He’s gotten pretty good at stabbing cans open with the knife he has, but sometimes tiny metal shavings still end up in their meals. Tonight is no exception. He stabs away at a few cans, digs out what he can on to broken plates they’d found. Broken, a little chipped – but surprisingly in pretty good condition.

The food, however, is mush. Shane scoops up a bit with his fingers and licks at it, wincing as the taste, “Think this is chickpeas…or maybe hominy…”

“Those two things are very different.”

“Oh, sorry Paul Prudhomme – what’s your expansive palate telling you?”

Ryan’s nose wrinkles even as he takes his own bite, “Um…peaches?”

“Pe-?” Shane can’t even finish, laughing, because this sure as shit isn’t peaches. As is his way, Ryan looks charmingly flummoxed, “I taste something sweet, you dipshit!”

“Well, you did just stick your fingers in your mouth, didn’t you?” Shane teases and he knows it’s on the edge of a flirt and dammit, bad idea, Shane, bad idea…

Again – as is his way – Ryan ignores it. Shane releases the breath he isn’t even aware he’s holding. Good. Ryan shouldn’t respond. Good. And yet…

Shane takes another bite of his ‘dinner’ and it’s as questionable as the last. Maybe even more so, given their last interaction. This is not the time. This is SO not the time. The world’s ended. Or, well, the world as they knew it. Now is not the time to put the moves on Ryan. It wasn’t before. It isn’t now. When will it ever-?

Never, his thoughts whisper, and Shane feels his face fall, feels an uncharacteristic moroseness take him. He polishes off what last few bites he can manage, even though he’s not hungry, and then he rubs his hands clean on the material of his dirty jeans. Not the most hygienic, true – but they can’t waste water.

He can always find some stream tomorrow – do a better job then. Say what you will about the Titans, but their returns had brought some worth while things. California was flusher with fresh streams than ever before. Glowing green plant life – plant life that, before – would have scorched – now flourishes here. It’s as if the arrival of these creatures changed the very exosphere.

He wonders how global warming looks now. Have they caused a monumental shift in it? Probably. If anything has the power to, they probably do. Fuck, they can probably grow back icebergs or something. Create new fossil fuels. God – or heh, Godzilla – knows what. Once feeling his hands are sufficiently clean, he sighs and looks over at Ryan who has started in on again on his torn, dog-eared novel.

“Thinking I’m going to hit the hay.”

Ryan blinks, “Already?”

He just shrugs, “Long day.”

“Yeah,” Ryan admits softly and Shane goes over to his sleeping bag. It’s funny, but in as much as things changed, some have stayed the same. Sleeping together in a dirty, gross shit holes? Just like old times. Except no one’s filming with plans to upload it to the internet later.

The internet. Man. Talk about something to miss. The whole world at your fingertips. Although, in a way, they now have that albeit in a much more literal sense. Shane snuggles deep into his bag and falls to sleep far quicker than he thought he would.

Ryan, for his part, continues to idly pick through his uncovered novel. It’s a pretty decent tale. Romance. Big shocker. The world is over and all he can find in the remains are old bodice rippers. But a book is a book – entertainment is pretty goddamn scarce these days. He’ll take what he can get. True, he wants to click on the radio – see if there’s any good word, any good news – but he doesn’t want to disturb Shane.

…even if the bastard won’t admit he’s wrong. And yeah, the Titans aren’t ghosts. But they are real. So, if they’re real – it’s not much of a stretch to think the same thing of ghosts.

…probably a lot more ghosts now…what with all the…

Ryan can’t even coherently string it all together. All the lives lost. Too many to even begin to contemplate. A planetwide event, a tragedy beyond bearing. And here the two of them are. Holed up in their little bunker, trying to live the best lives they can. Ryan’s a few more pages in when he hears that familiar hum.

His mouth twitches, unable to resist the smile forming.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

The sound Shane makes while he sleeps. The soft hum of his breathing. Ryan can’t even count how many times he’s fallen asleep to that sound. Clung to it when they were shooting in creepy locations. He never slept well in supposedly haunted locations…but he always slept a little better when they shared space. When he hears those sounds.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

Like the bastard laughs in his sleep. Although, the sound isn’t quite like a laugh. It just…it has that same warm sound, that rewarding quality his laughter carries. Affable, irresistible, rich and…Ryan looks down at the words on the pages of the book before him, feels his cheeks heat. He’s been reading far too much of this mushy shit. It’s messing with his thoughts. He closes the book and contemplates his options.

Sleep is probably the best among them. He looks to Shane again. Long limbs all akimbo – awkward. He fits within his cocoon and yet not. Ridiculous – those stork legs, those string bean arms…

…how would those arms feel wrapped around-?

Ryan literally tosses his book aside. All your fault, he thinks at it, even as he stands up rolls his shoulders. Okay. Calm on. Relax. Don’t be stupid. Just go to sleep.

He climbs into his own bag, which isn’t far from Shane’s. He dampens their lanterns and it’s dark, cool, quiet. He’s almost asleep when he hears it. A deep, hefty rumble. Like thunder, but worse. Far worse. Worse because no storm has this feeling behind it. This pure, volatile energy.

He sits up, his breath catching. It’s far off in the distance, but it doesn’t matter. He knows what it is. It’s one of them. His heart leaps into his throat and fear throttles him so roughly that at first he can’t move – eyes watering as the sound grows in strength.

…boom…boom…Boom…BOOM!

The last makes the ground shake and he hates the goddamn squeak that leaves him as he physical jolts. Shane (sonofabitch!) is still asleep and Jesus Christ, does this fucker sleep through everything?! Ryan rolls his bag hard to one side, closer to Shane, knocking him with enough force that Shane wakes, voice groggy with sleep, “…izzat?”

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” Ryan wishes he didn’t sound so whiny and high pitched and frantic. For fuck’s sake – he’s a grown man! But the sound of those…footsteps…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground beneath them shakes violently. Ryan’s experienced earthquakes before (California born and raised) but this is beyond that. This is as if the planet itself is coming apart. Shane sits up, even as Ryan shushes at him, tugs at him – as if somehow Shane’s sitting up, underground, in the dark, can signal the Titans above them.

Shane tilts his head this way and that – clearly doing his best to listen. To pinpoint. And then he slowly turns back to Ryan, “Hey, hey…shush, shush…they’re moving away…”

Ryan’s eyes hurt from being open so wide. Ryan’s chest hurts because his heart is beating so fast. Ryan’s…hurt. He hurts and hurts and suddenly he’s in Shane’s arms. Shane is cuddling him close, “Ry? Ryan, buddy, come on…come on! Calm down, calm down. Breathe…”

…he can’t…Ryan can’t…

“You can,” Shane intones firmly and Ryan realizes he’s said something to that effect aloud, “Ryan, breathe.”

Ryan drags in one loud, long shuddering breath. Then another. Then another. His mind briefly flickers over all he’s lost. All they’ve lost. All the friends, all the family, all the people…the world…

His wide eyes fill. Blink. Shed some tears, there and gone, and he’s still breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He curls forward some, relaxes, and he’s in Shane’s arms and they’re not quite as string bean as he thought. They have strength and weight and long fingers are stroking through his sweat damp, dark hair. Soothing it back from his forehead.

Ryan lets out a jittery wheeze, “Sorry…must think I’m a dumb ass.”

“No.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan, you’re not a dumb ass because you’re afraid.”

“You’re not.”

“Shows what you know.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan,” Now it’s Shane’s turn to sound bone weary, “We played up that shit for the show. You know that. Being scared of heroin needles and avocado pits and…and you know,” he says it so firmly, with such deep assurance that – even in the darkness of the bunker – Ryan knows he’s looking directly into his eyes, “You know I’m just as human as everybody else. That I get afraid. That I am afraid.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks and he can’t see the nod, but he knows he gets it. And Shane’s right. Of course he’s right. Ryan knows he’s right. Shane’s not any more of a dumb ass than he is. They have every right to be afraid. Everyone in the world currently is. It’s all changing. It’s all becoming new. So new that to-to be afraid of other things? Silly things? Well, that would be what would make him a dumb ass, right?

And it’s this thought that leads Ryan to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Two little balls of heat form right on the apples of his cheeks, lighting zipping up and down his spine because – holy shit – did he just say that out loud? And he can’t really see Shane in the cool darkness of the bunker. Their lanterns are out, but he can feel him. Sense him. He’s…close.

And then Shane answers.

“I don’t know…can you?”

It takes Ryan a moment to digest this response. And when he does? He fishes out his flat pillow and hopes it hits hard as he smacks right across Shane’s face, “Fuck you! You-!”

The curse is said without any real heat, but it can’t be helped, because, well – goddammit! So Ryan plans to keep on pummeling Shane until he somehow dies from pillow pummeling only for Shane to stop him. He manages to catch his pillow and stall his movements as he grunts out, “No! Hey! S-sorry, look-! I just-! I just couldn’t help myself, y’know?”

“Oh, do I?!”

“Yeah, man I mean – it was right there!” Shane damn near pleads with him, clearly feeling the opportunity was too good to pass up, “Besides, it was…it was too damned much. You asking like that…all hat in hand…”

Ryan’s struggles with the pillow cease as Shane comes…closer. He can feel him closer. The heat of him, the rush of air on his lips in the dark as Shane talks that his breathe caresses Ryan’s mouth, “But you can, Ryan.”

The last is said with such intensity that Ryan’s whole body shakes harder than when the Titans walked near them. His heart booms louder than their steps. He feels Shane hovering so close, “…I’ve wanted you to.”

A thick, noisy swallow and a very cracking, very insecure, “Yeah?”

“Mmm. Been waiting for you to.”

“R-really?”

A soft scoff, “No, actually – never thought you were interested. Never thought I’d be so lucky. But goddamn Ryan, if you are? You can kiss me and then some.”

That’s all the incentive Ryan needs. He charges forward and yes – kissing in the dark when you’re not quite sure where the other person is? Awkward. WEIRD. Ryan’s lips sort of miss Shane’s and there’s a laugh and a snort and a lot of fumbling in the pitch black dark.

But then?

Oh, then.

Then there’s lips meeting and Ryan’s thoughts splinter, his veins ignite and he’s kissing Shane. Their tongues are tangling, lips playing along one another and suddenly the world isn’t over. It’s just beginning.

#shyan #my writing #theawfuledges #prompt #ish #godzilla!au

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youcantkillamutant · 6 years

Text

The Mystery of the Golden Fang: Part 2, The Enlightenment

Part 1: The Collision

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: A girl stumbles into another world. A baby disappears. A private investigator wonders if this will be the case he can’t solve.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, cursing

Words: 9K

A/N: So…here’s another one of those AU’s that absolutely no one asked for! I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening to: Lightyears by Kimbra, Werewolf Heart by Dead Man’s Bones, Bad Ritual by Timber Timbre, and Blood on My Hands by Danielle Parente

Part 2: The Enlightenment

—l—

When a candle burns, even the wind cannot no undo what has been melted by the fire.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 1, 2040

1:02AM

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Hazel’s heart had done more than leap out of her chest. For all she knew the organ had departed her body completely, leaving her gasping and holding the hole in her chest. After N’Jadaka had dropped his…fangs, Hazel promptly took three steps back and clutched the baby so tightly she woke up. Now Hazel focused on the baby’s eyes; wide, brown, round, and curious while she tried to breathe through whatever was happening in her body.

N’Jadaka took a few steps back from the human in confusion. Who is this chick? N’Jadaka had never met someone who didn’t know about vamps. And now this girl showed up with a baby and without a clue. He turned to Shuri in question.

“Shu, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well you have to tell her, especially after that little show of your fangs.”

“Yeah but look at her. She’s having a freaking heart attack. Wait do humans still have those?”

“Yes they do, so just be chill about it. Ease her into it. I’m sure if you present it to her in a rational way she’ll take it well. Probably.”

“Yeah, chill.” N’Jadaka nodded to himself as he mouthed the words again. Chill.

The girl seemed to have calmed down, though she was still taking careful breaths as N’Jadaka approached. He took in her brown skin and broad nose wondering for a moment if she was actually a fairy. He peered around her back for wings, but none appeared, and he resigned himself to having to explain his existence to a human, of all creatures.

“Now, I don’t want you to freak out okay? My cousin and I aren’t going to hurt you.” He approached her short form cautiously.

“Pretty sure those gold fangs beg to differ.” Even terrified and confused, Hazel managed to snark at the stranger. He had just flashed his razor sharp fangs at her.

“That was supposed to be funn––” N’Jadaka threw his arms up in surrender. “Forget it. My cousin and I are vampires, but we won’t––”

“Vampires?!” Hazel’s shriek was enough to startle the baby, but instead of holding a crying baby, suddenly Hazel was holding a whimpering ball of fur. Yelping Hazel squeezed the leather jacket curled around the fur ball tightly. It barked when it fell from Hazel’s arms, and she stumbled back. On the ground was a small jaguar cub; pied and blinking, Hazel couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Luckily, Shuri swept into the conversation.

“Sounds like she’s taking it well.” N’Jadaka curled his lips at the mirth in her voice.

“The kid turned into a jaguar on me! I can’t really keep things ‘chill’ after that.”

“Whatever you say cousin.”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying that baby, turned into that jaguar?” The cub was now playing with Terra, N’Jadaka’s panther familiar. They were a mass of black and golden fur, racing around in circles and nipping at each other’s tails playfully.

“Yep, your kid’s a shifter! Surprise!” Shuri completed the action with a cheesy grin and outstretched fingers while wandering towards the front doors.

“She’s not mine…” Hazel trailed off. She couldn’t find the words, or any words really to describe the hysteria that was going on in her head. Vampire’s are a myth, were a myth up until a few minutes ago.

She’d never thought much of the alley behind The Golden Fang but now she wished she had been smart enough to avoid it. Wherever she was now is proof that that place is not normal. Hazel was tempted to walk outside and see if she would find the same shops across from the club sign, or even walk back to the care center, but something told her that wouldn’t be the case. Hazel had a sinking feeling in her gut that a step out of that door would lead her into a different world.

“You really aren’t from here are you?”

“Where is here, exactly?” caution colored Hazel’s voice as she watched the baby and panther play. Aside from the whole shapeshifter thing, Hazel had never seen any wild animals this close. It was kind of fascinating.

“Metropolis.”

“Like the cartoon?” N’Jadaka couldn’t control his face when he heard the girl’s confused response. She truly didn’t know anything about his world.

“No, its––Haven’t you heard about President Gorya?” The current president was worse than a joke because he took himself seriously, but the rest of the world didn’t. That’s why T’Challa is running. If anyone could make a change, it would be T’Challa. That vamp is too benevolent for his own good.

“Who?”

“What about the Creatures Rights Act?” It was the biggest push from species rights activists at the time and the only bill to pass unanimously. Still, from the look on Hazel’s face, this didn’t ring a bell. The more questions N’Jadaka asked, the more concerned Hazel got. Either this guy was really convincing, or she really is in a different place entirely.

“The what?”

“Tiller Mayhem?” N’Jadaka mentioned the serial killer that had been running rampant, targeting all kinds of low country creatures up until he was caught last year.

“Nothing.”

“Beyoncé?” Shuri had returned from her wandering, slipping back into the conversation with ease.

“Duh! You guys have Beyoncé?” Hazel nearly shouted her response, happy to hear something that finally made sense.

“Yeah she’s the biggest pop vamp in the world.” N’Jadaka could name her last few singles and even knew a few of her songs, but Shuri was the real fan.

“Wait wait, Beyoncé’s a vampire?”

“And a succubus on her mom’s side. What is she in your world?”

“The biggest pop star. A mom. Amazing.”

“She has kids in your world?”

“Yep! A daughter and twins. Blue, Sir and Rumi.” N’Jadaka had heard enough from the girls, and steered the conversation back to answers.

“Back to the original question. Where the hell did you come from and how did you get here?”

“Um, I’m from Ortega,” The blank stares Hazel received from N’Jadaka and Shuri made her even more self conscious. “which apparently doesn’t exist here. As for how I got here…I was on my way home from work and I heard a baby crying.”

“And you just followed the sound?” Hazel could hear the skepticism in N’Jadaka’s voice. She bristled.

“Yes, I followed the sound. I’m not the kind of person to leave a baby in an alleyway.”

“So you find the baby and what?”

“I don’t know. It got a little windy and the next thing I know, you’re walking out for a smoke.”

“Next thing you know? Seriously short stack? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Sounds like a load of––” Shuri stopped N’Jadaka before he could belittle the girl further. She didn’t know the human, but no one deserves to be on the end of N’Jadaka’s righteous inquisition.

“Well I’ve got a theory––” N’Jadaka rolled his eyes at his cousin’s statement. He knew all about Shuri’s theories, and as of late they’d become so ridiculous he was getting concerned about her health. Sure she might be the smartest person in the world, but she’s always been one step away from falling down the rabbit hole and onto the Mad Hatters cap. Shuri’s kimoyo beads rang before he could say anything.

Shuri stepped away to answer the call and N’Jadaka returned his attention to the human. She was small, hence the nickname but something about her was big. Currently she was rolling around with Terra and the baby shifter, giggling as they snuggled with her. N’Jadaka wanted to summon Terra back to him with a kiss of his teeth, but he studied the trio instead. In the ten years Terra had been with N’Jadaka she’d always been a good judge of character. She’d sniffed out plenty of shady club goers and warded him away from even shadier business deals. Now the cat was nipping at this girl from another world and purring louder than he’d ever heard.

“N’Jadaka, that was a call from my brother. Nakia’s back. He wants to––

“Have a family dinner.”

“Well we better get packing. What do we do with the…” He gestured to the human and shifter.

“They’re coming with us. Obviously.”

“So you want me to bring an unregistered human and a random shapeshifting kid to family dinner?” N’Jadaka stroked his chin for a second pondering the consequences.

“You know what, that might actually make things interesting. Let’s do it.” Shuri facepalmed before shoving N’Jadaka.

“You always want to make trouble.” N’Jadaka shrugged.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 4, 2040

4:15PM

The nearly Ivy League college was as crisp as the orange autumn leaves. Crestbay University was one of the top 5 schools in the country and home to the most advanced psychological in the world. Detective Stevens found himself there after two days of gathering information and hitting brick walls.

“Will do Mrs. Okoye.” The bright eyed student bounced on his toes as Okoye raised her brow.

“Professor Okoye.”

“Oh, right. S—sorry Professor.” Light in their eyes sufficiently dimmed by embarrassment, the student practically ran away, and Erik couldn’t resist teasing his old friend.

“Still scaring the freshmen Professor?”

“When it suits me.” The duo shared a laugh, and Okoye jumped right into questioning her old partner.

“What do you need Erik?”

“It’s about a case.”

“Stevens we aren’t partners anymore. You can’t come to me about this stuff, especially since I know hardly any of your work is above the board.”

“I know but, Okoye it’s…I can’t explain this one.”

“The great Erik Stevens can’t explain something? Color me shocked!” Okoye teased, but Erik stood his ground. In all the time they’d known each other, Erik had never met a smarter woman than Okoye. She was observant and a savant in nearly every subject, which made her such an annoyingly amazing partner when they were on the force. Usually he never bothered to enlist any other help for his cases, preferring to handle everything on his own, but this case has stumped him from the beginning.

Hazel Fay had no reason to run away. According to her coworkers and friends, she was happy as a clam. Sure she worked two jobs, but that was more for experience than out of necessity. She didn’t have any outstanding debts, no enemies or secret vices. She was—is a perfectly normal girl who somehow went missing without a trace.

“How much do you know about alternate dimensions?” Okoye fixed Erik with an incredulous look considering the nature of the question and its complete ridiculousness, but when she saw he was serious Okoye sighed and grabbed her bags.

“Lets get a drink.”

“Oakies?” Erik was referring to the southern bar chain known for their hospitality, sleek bartops and haunting musical acts. Okoye scoffed.

“What do we need to go to a bar chain for? I got whisky in my office.”

“Okay Professor.”

Erik ran over the case again in his mind on their scenic walk to her office.

Hazel goes to work all day at the school and then her night job at the care center. According to her coworkers, there is nothing out of the ordinary, no angry parents of crying kids. She leaves the care center at around 9PM, and begins her walk home to her apartment on Lafayette Street. She pauses right in front of the security camera posted outside of the Golden Fang Bar for exactly forty seconds. Her head is tilted, she is listening to something. Finally she moves, but instead of heading home, she ventures further into the alleyway. She crouched down to the ground, grabbed something and holds it to her chest. When she rises from her knees, she disappears.

“She just vanished. One moment she was there in the alley, and then she picks up some black bundle and poof!” Erik relayed all he had gathered about the case to Okoye in the beautiful brownstone home that had been converted into office spaces for the professors and their assistants. He threw his notes on her desk, giving her a chance to peruse them while he sank into the wood and leather chair that sat in front of her desk.

Okoye gestured to the bottle of whisky that sat in the corner of her desk, procuring a pair of glasses while she studied Erik’s notes. Erik poured a finger for each of them and leaned back. Okoye hadn’t changed her office much since he had last been here. The walls were still the same boring white—or eggshell as he was initially informed. A red and gold tapestry hung on one of the walls, glittering in the sunlight that streamed through the open window of the room. Her wide wooden desk was littered with rhino trinkets, pens, and golden bits and bobs.

“That is…strange. This whole case is…odd.”

“That’s an understatement. Look, Okoye I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t run through every logical possibility. No one at the bar even saw the girl. They’ve got nothing.” Okoye nodded gathering her thoughts on the case. It was strange. The girls in Erik’s cases don’t just disappear without a trace like this. Sure they’re hard to find, but there are breadcrumbs to follow. This video leaves nothing.

“I’m a layman’s physicist in comparison to your connections. You should talk to an actual award-winning one.” Erik knew who she was hinting to, but he played dumb.

“You should talk to Nakia about this.” Erik didn’t shake his head at Okoye’s suggestion, but he didn’t nod either. The last person he wanted to think about was Nakia. Super-spy extraordinaire. Award-winning physicist. The first and only woman to break his heart. The reason he works as hard as he does now.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe, but she can help with this. She would want to, if it helps you find this girl.” Okoye knew this wasn’t the answer he was hoping to find with her, but she was never in the business of biting her tongue to please others. Erik needed help and she didn’t have nearly enough knowledge on the subject he was looking into to give him a useful answer.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Erik slammed back the rest of his whisky, gathered his notes and waved Okoye goodbye.

“See you around Professor?” She smiled, all teeth and mirthful eyes.

“If you can find me Stevens.” Erik rolled his eyes at the jab and pulled out his phone, dialing the most recent number he found for Nakia before the whisky wore off.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 7, 2040

2:05PM

“It’s been a week and I still haven’t seen my daughter Harley.” A week. A full seven days of sleepless nights and endless searching for Ayana. Harley didn’t know what was real and what was a dream at this point, but she still kept searching. She conferred with every deity she could get in contact with, wrote every witch within a 100 mile radius, hell she even prayed. Still, Ayana never showed.

“You don’t think I’ve been looking?” Killmonger didn’t know what the witch had been doing since she’d thrown his baby into nowhere and he didn’t give one flying fuck. He’d gone too long without his daughter, too long without hearing her laugh or seeing her gummy smile. Hell he’d even take her teething cries over the silence that filled his house now. But the witch had no leads and he couldn’t find her scent. It was like she just, disappeared.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing much of anything.” Finally Harley snapped. After a week of his snide comments and shitty treatment, Harley whirled on the Tribal Leader with a snarl.

“Fuck you ‘Monger.” Killmonger twitched, arms reaching out to grab Harley’s neck before the door to the Golden Fang swung open.

“Well, well, well. What’s a guy have to do to get a drink in this shitty little town?” The white man wore a bright white cut adorned with fringe that didn’t deserve to see the light of day and obnoxious gold epithets on his shoulders. A patch of blood and bone was stitched in a jagged line on the back of his leather cut along with an embroidered name: The Poachers. The man wore his bloody cut and his deranged smile like an accessory. He didn’t make it to the bar before the Jags stood, blocking his path to the bar.

“Poacher’s ain’t welcome here.”

“Oh come on boys. I just want a little drink.” The man gave a small grin, revealing yellowed teeth and a few silver caps.

“No.”

“What’s up your ass? Your old lady ain’t doing her job?” The man waved to Harley, and she nearly lunged for the idiot. Killmonger is the last man she’d ever––

“Oh I know what it is! You lost your kid right? Left her with some witch? God, I’ve never met a shifter stupid enough to leave their kid with a witch, but there’s a first time for everything, right?” This time Harley did lunge. The Jags weren’t expecting anyone to break through from the back, and she got a solid punch in before W’Kabi, Erik’s right hand man, pulled her back behind the wall of Jags.

“Out.” Harley examined the blood under her nails, barely recalling the scratch she had gotten in before W’Kabi pulled her off of the Poacher. The man continued to speak, but Harley ripped herself from W’Kabi’s arms. Stomping out of the back door, pushing hard enough to hear it slam into the side of the bar as she made her way out to the dry dirt.

The Vibranium Babes had a bar just across the street, and Harley stomped her way to the bar. The bar was more of a club in the sense that it was always a little dark and had way too much chrome for a tiny town in the mountains, but Harley liked it. The music they played was a mix of bass electric and bubblegum pop that made her want to bob her head and grin at the same time. Ayana used to love walking by here on the way back to the Golden Fang. That thought was enough to sober Harley and she pushed her way to to back of the club where Shuri’s office sat.

The door glowed purple from the inside out but Harley couldn’t hear a sound. She knocked just below the sign that read: ‘Boss Babe’ and pressed her hand to the door as she waited. She tried to use the cool metal to calm herself and focus her energy. Right now, her powers were going haywire because every single thing she had built for herself in this town was going haywire. Even before she became Harley, Harley couldn’t remember a time where she felt so hopeless. Killmonger hated her even more, and Ayana wasn’t there to soften the blow. As she recalled his words, each one hurt a little more.

“Harley? Come in.” Shuri got one look at the girl and pulled her into her office. She guided them both to a plush purple couch sitting beside her and tossing Harley a pillow to hug. She latched onto it immediately.

“Shuri, I need to do a spell.”

“Harley spell working is too dangerous—” Harley knew spell working was dangerous. She knew every risk from growing addicted to perils of white magic to growing three extra arms and an antenna. None of that mattered. Or the risk was worth it all. Ayana had become everything to Harley, and the longer she was away, the tighter the noose squeezed around her heart.

“I don’t give a fuck Shuri. I have to do something. I have to find her!” Shuri inhaled and held Harley’s gaze. On a good day, Shuri wouldn’t never even begin to entertain the idea of spell working. Ritual magic and energy flow are the safest options for a witch like Harley, but those take time. Time that Shuri could tell they were running out of. Killmonger would lose what little patience he had, and even Shuri couldn’t guarantee Harley’s safety then. On the exhale, she relented.

“We need to go see Oma.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 8, 2040

5:09AM

“I’m just saying her presence proves my theory that multidimensional travel is possible!”

“Shuri, I love you, I do, but her presence proves nothing. What if she just has amnesia or something?”

“How many humans have you seen walking around unchipped and unregistered? And when’s the last time you ran into a jaguar shifter? You know I’m right N’Jadaka.��

“I know a lot of things, but that ain’t it.”

Hazel Fay was amazed to learn not only that vampires existed in whatever world she stumbled into but that they can walk in the sunlight without problem. Though most of them tended to be nocturnal, apparently they travelled in the daytime. Hazel and the baby, which she had taken to calling ‘Bug’ where ushered into a sleek black car by N’Jadaka and Shuri. Upon entering, the car released a mist of something Hazel couldn’t quite place, and then N’Jadaka and Shuri were back with suitcases packed, Terra climbing into the backseat with Hazel and Bug as they set off to…wherever they were going.

N’Jadaka and Shuri have been bickering ever since from the front seat. In an instant it dawned on Hazel that she should have never gotten into the car. Hell she probably shouldn’t have said anything to these vampires at all. Hazel whipped her phone out of her pocket, frantically pressing the home button, but nothing appeared. Either it was dead, or it didn’t work in whatever world she was in right now. Hazel only had a moment to panic before her mouth whizzed past her brain.

“Where the hell are you taking us?”

“T’Challa’s house.” N’Jadaka sighed in annoyance, though he was happy to get some entertainment from the human. He was beginning to wonder if she had fallen mute.

“Which is where?” Hazel did her best to remain polite, she really did, but vampire or not this guy is an asshole.

“Considering you don’t even know where Metropolis is, I doubt you’re going to know where to find Wakanda.”

“Then show me. I’m sure it’s not that difficult.” Hazel was one snarky word away from flicking the back of N’Jadaka’s ear no matter the consequences.

“She has a point cousin.” In an instant, the entire front seat turned to face Hazel, the baby, and Terra. N’Jadaka looked sufficiently annoyed and Hazel was beginning to wonder if that was just his face. Shuri on the other hand had her left wrist outstretched, a bracelet of thick black beads emitting a soft blue light.

“This is our travel plan.” An image of a map projected from Shuri’s bracelet this time, bright, blue and bold. Hazel could see a continent that looked to be like Africa, but the States, or what was the States in her world, was all messed up. The east coast ended where Virginia might have been, Florida was completely gone, and the midwest had become and island somehow.

“We started in Metropolis, obviously. And we’re headed to Wakanda the second largest vamp city in the world. It’s in Cafria, just about 5,000 miles east.” Shuri pointed out Metropolis, which looked to be where New York city would have been in Hazel’s world. then she pointed out Africa, or ‘Cafria’ as it was called here, as their destination.

“How long will it take?”

“A couple of days give or take. As long as the weather holds we should be fine.” Shuri waved off the weather like it was nothing and pulled out a piece of small circular technology. She leaned forward towards Hazel and held it up to the window. Hazel’s eyes widened at the invasion of personal space, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Shuri’s eyes. they were yellow and orange, like flecks of fire dancing from a flame. Chagrinned, Shuri directed her attention to Hazel.

“Do you mind if I plug this in? I want to charge my kimoyo beads before the flight.” Hazel shrugged and watched the girl place the tech onto the window. It only took a second to pulse blue and then it began to hum. The sound was nearly silent, but Hazel watched in awe as Shuri pulled off her bracelet and held it to the tech. The bracelet latched on like a magnet and Shuri leaned back, pulling down the shade by her face. Self driving cars and solar power. To Hazel this was more futuristic than she expected for another world.

“Solar charger. It’s my newest prototype. Adding the magnet is always tricky with everything else going on in there, but I think it’ll hold.” Shuri explained when she saw the look on Hazel’s face and again wondered where in the universe this girl came from. She very clearly wasn’t a part of their world, despite what N’Jadaka might think. This girl wasn’t meant to be a part of their world and it’s only a matter of time before fate pulls her back to wherever she truly needs to be. Shuri wanted to be the one to see her back to her world and maybe even get a glimpse of it in the process.

Hazel nodded gratefully at the explanation and watched Shuri lean back in her seat again. She watched as the girl closed her eyes, and watched even closer as her breathing evened out. As far as she knew vampires don’t just sleep in the open, so Hazel had to wonder what the hell she was doing.

“You staring at my cousin pretty hard. You into her or something?” Hazel whipped a side-eye at N’Jadaka. Sure the girl was cute and they looked to be around the same age, but as of right now, she was in another world. The last thing she’s focused on are prospective partners.

“No. It’s just…In my world, Vampires only sleep in coffins. Or upside down. And they can’t go out in the sunlight either.”

“The vampires in your world sound like pussies.”

“Yeah well it’s not like they’re real anyways. At least not in my world.”

“You’re serious about that? No vampires in your world?”

“No magical creatures at all. Why?”

“I don’t know, I just can’t imagine a world without us, and creatures like us. I mean sure I could do without the Stokers, but compared to the fae, they aren’t so bad.” Hazel’s brain spun at the mention of fae and a world with magical creatures before her mind caught on a question.

“Stokers?”

“Yeah the European vampire assholes that love to try and gentrify anything they deem ‘in desperate need of repair’. Those are the ones that can barely tolerate the sunlight, though they still bring their undead asses out on occasion.”

“Wait, there are different types of vampires?”

“Not genealogically, for the most part we’re the same, these are just our…cultural differences.” Hazel raised her brows in an effort to get him to elaborate and after a moment of annoyance that he had to explain anything at all, N’Jadaka relented.

“Okay so, you’ve got the Stokers––”

“European assholes.” Hazel covered the baby’s ears as she said the last word, even though Bug was fast asleep. N’Jadaka almost smiled.

“Right. Then the succoyants. They came from the islands and pretty much dominate the south nowadays. And lastly you’ve got The Adize. My people. We came from Wakanda, and all over Cafria.” Hazel heard the pride in N’Jadaka’s voice.

“So what makes you special?”

“Well, in our legends, we turn into fireflies. We dance along the plains, flying free until we need to feed. Then we can fall into whatever form suits us best and…eat.” N’Jadaka leaned closer to Hazel as he told the story, laughing a little when she jumped at his final words. She was easy to scare. He tried to get a whiff of her scent, but remembered the scent blockers they’d doused her and the baby with. She’d have to remain a mystery.

They pulled up to the tarmac smoothly, Shuri jolting out of sleep the second the car stopped. Hazel peered out the window taking in the small, sleek black jet. It was the only plane on the blacktop and for the first time Hazel wondered just who she was traveling with. Peeking down at baby Bug, she was happy to see the kid was still fast asleep. Terra was too, and she didn’t envy N’Jadaka having to wake her up to get her on the plane.

“This is us.”

“Are you guys rich or something?” Shuri laughed and turned to N’Jadaka, gracefully twirling out of the car and towards the jet.

“You want to handle that one cousin?”

“We’re comfortable.” N’Jadaka shrugged under her scrutiny, then shook himself and sat taller. No human is going to make him feel any type of way about his money. Hazel couldn’t stop digging.

“How comfortable?”

“Let’s just say, Wakanda treats us like kings.”

“So you’re what? Vampire royalty?” Hazel watched N’Jadaka shrug his answer with rapt attention. He was being way too casual about this for it to mean nothing.

“Of a sort. My father was a prince. We tend to live in an…elevated economic status than some of the other vamps.” Hazel couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Not that N’Jadaka noticed, he was busy checking the flight plan on his kimoyo beads.

“Now I know you’re royalty.”

“Why?”

“Because when you talk about certain ‘economic circumstances’ you sound like a media trained asshat.” Hazel’s hands went right over Bug’s ears again.

“Charming.” N’Jadaka stopped Hazel’s questioning with a sneer. He’d be damned, well even more damned than he already is, before they messed up their flight plan. He hefted Terra over his shoulder and nodded to the attendants. They grabbed the luggage and hurried to the plane as Hazel scrambled out of the car, baby in her arms.

“Please tell me you know what a plane is.” Hazel rolled her eyes at N’Jadaka’s condescension.

“Oh fuck off.” Of course, that’s when Bug decided to wake up.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 8, 2040

9:22AM

“Kia.”

Erik was surprised that the phone only rang once after he finally mustered up the courage to call. Nakia’s voice hit him like a hurricane, strong and quick and biting. It took him four days to make this call, and he wasn’t proud of it. Erik had never been anything but bitterly independent, but when Okoye couldn’t help him and he spent another few hours beating his head against the wall and watching a tape that made no logical sense, he gave in and called.

“I told you to stop calling me that E.” Her words wore annoyed but Erik could hear the smile creeping through her voice. He grinned into his own response.

“And I told you to stop calling me that.” The line was silent after that, and Erik remembered why they had stopped talking. They had never been a great match, but convenience makes fools of us all. Not to mention their family history.

“Why are you calling me Erik? I thought––” He didn’t have the hear the rest of the sentence to know how it was going to end. I thought I made everything clear the day you lowered my father into the ground. Erik knew he shouldn’t have called. Hell, he hated that he needed her help, but Jules Fay had called everyday since she first came to his office, and Erik was sick of filling her with non-answers and disappointment.

“I need your help. It’s about a girl.”

“Seriously?” Erik cringed at her tone, sharpened to a point he couldn’t stand.

“A missing girl. I think she’s in another dimension.” Nakia didn’t laugh or call him crazy, but he didn’t expect her to. She’s not that kind of person. She’s too smart to pass judgement without analyzing all of the factors.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s just disappeared without a trace Nakia. She’s not like you, she couldn’t have done this. She’s got no priors, no secret lovers, no enemies. She volunteers on the weekends and works with kids night and day.”

“She sounds like a saint.” Nakia was intrigued. She’d worked plenty of missions that involved finding people that couldn’t be found, but in her research, she’d never come across something like this without a clear explanation. She could understand why Erik was stumped.

“Exactly. There is no reason she would have been targeted. No reason for her to be taken.”

“People are crazy.” Nakia offered this up delicately, knowing the answer wasn’t in her words but giving them anyway to fill the silence.

“There was no one in or around that alley Nakia. She’s just…gone.” Nakia hesitated. Erik sounded weary. Erik Stevens was never anything but resolute and elegant, but now, he was weary.

“Send me the tape.” Erik’s breath crackled over the line.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“I know.” Erik went to pull the phone from his face, but Nakia stopped him.

“And Erik? If this is an impossible case, you need to stay open to all possibilities.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 10, 2040

3:27PM

Cafria is hot. Hotter than any place Hazel has ever experienced. It’s a crisp, dry heat that made her want to moisturize every five minutes. Her fingers swelled the second she stepped off of the plane and her phone burned a hole in her pocket. N’Jadaka and Shuri didn’t seem to share her sentiments. They waltzed off of the private jet with grins to rival a crocodile’s and they stretched like cats in the sun. Their eyes looked more gold than brown in this place, and the pair thrummed with a new kind of energy. Something magical, like they could become anything at any second, and no person or thing would be able to stop them.

After boarding yet another private plane to Wakanda, the quintet landed quickly and made their way into a private limo. Or what Hazel assumed was a limo in this place. It was just as sleek and black as anything in Metropolis, and Hazel pressed her nose against the window to watch the world fly by. Luxurious lakes reflected the pristine blue sky, and that soon gave way to rolling verdant hills with elegant horses galloping through them. By the time they reached the gate, Hazel had to sit back in her seat. Dazed and glutted by the beauty of this place called Wakanda.

At the gate, Shuri mumbled a few words in a language Hazel couldn’t understand and the wrought vibranium gates slid open. N’Jadaka studied this human take in the opulence of the estate. The car glided to a stop and the group made their way out of the car quickly. Hazel, clutched Bug in one arm and the other was free to feel the Wakandan air. Palm fronds of every shape and size enveloped the entryway and N’Jadaka watched as the girl reach out and touch them. She rubbed them between her fingers like she’d never seen a tree before, and once again he had to wonder just where she came from.

T’Challa and Nakia, the Scientist and the Spy stood together, looking just as picturesque as their palatial home. Smiles were plastered on their beautiful black faces, and they almost looked normal, human. All it took was another glance for Hazel to reconsider that thought. Golden eyes glittered like jewels in flawless faces and Hazel slowed her approach, falling behind N’Jadaka and Shuri.

“Sister,” The tall man pulled Shuri into a hug while the woman watched on. Then he turned his attention onto N’Jadaka. “Cousin.”

“Wassup?” N’Jadaka nodded and went for a handshake, finally revealing Hazel, who stood with Bug in her arms while Terra purred at her feet, tail flickering around her ankles. The lean man pulled his face into a judgmental visage of furrowed brows and downturned lips. Hazel didn’t bother waving, instead taking in the grandiose foyer. Dark wood melted into gleaming tile and mirrors reflected the setting sun through the tall french windows.

“This is not a BYOH cousin. We have plenty of blood for––” Shuri shoved T’Challa on the shoulder and though his face conveyed brotherly annoyance, he stood rooted to the spot.

“She is not a blood bag brother. She is proof!”

“Proof?” Hazel never thought someone could raise their eyebrow wearily, but here she was, seeing it happen. Maybe it’s a vampire thing.

“Yes, they are proof that multidimensional travel is possible.” N’Jadaka face palmed while T’Challa sighed. He should have known by now to remain unsurprised by Shuri’s…hypotheses, but he still hasn’t mastered complete control of his reactions. Still, this is better than when Shuri designed that––T’Challa stopped himself before he walked too far down memory lane.

“Why don’t you all come inside and we can talk over breakfast?” Nakia finally spoke, voice even and only slightly commanding. As though her word was law, T’Challa nodded and followed her into the house. The trio followed suit, Hazel gripping Bug a touch tighter than necessary.

The hallways were painted blue laced in gold trimmings and peppered with greenery. Hazel couldn’t imagine living in a place this pristine. Paintings hung from the walls and silvery glimmering busts stood in the corners. It was like walking through a museum. After what felt like a mile long walk to Hazel, the group made it to the dining room. Terra darted to a silvery bowl filled to the bring with wet food and the rest of them took their seats.

Hazel sat Bug up in her lap, waving away the highchair Nakia offered. She felt safer with the baby in her arms. Even if said baby could turn into a jaguar. The table was laden with all manner of breakfast foods. Sausage and bacon and eggs and pancakes steamed from their places on the table, but Hazel caught sight of something else. Pastries were piled high on three trays to the right of her. Perfectly laminated croissants, fluffy muffins, and glossy danishes filled to the brim with bright fruits beckoned her to take a bite, but N’Jadaka stopped her before she could reach for one.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” N’Jadaka had been watching the girl through all of this, and he had to admit he was impressed. Most humans would have run away screaming if the T’Challa Udaku had referred to them as a blood bag, but this girl…Hazel, didn’t seem to know what the hell we were talking about at all. It wasn’t necessarily refreshing, but it was interesting.

“Why not? I’m starving” Hazel nearly bit N’Jadaka’s hand off of her shoulder. She hadn’t eaten since…There had been snacks on the plane, but she’s hadn’t had a real meal since she was back home. Before she came to this world, she had plans to make soups all weekend and freeze them for the months to come. Now Hazel wondered if she’s ever get home again.

“Some of the ingredients might not sit well with you.” N’Jadaka had seen human get sick from eating their food, and he didn’t need to see it again.

“Which ingredients?”

“The blood mostly.” Hazel balked and N’Jadaka barked out a laugh. Now that he mentioned it, Hazel could see the pastries had a slightly pink tinge to them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and let Bug play with them for a bit while she tried to reason with her grumbling stomach.

As if she could read her mind, or hear her stomach, Nakia placed a plate in from of Hazel. It was piled high with fruits and bagels without a bloody tint to them. Hazel gazed up to find herself captured by golden irises as she thanked the woman. Nakia nodded with a small smile, happy that N’Jadaka brought a human with manners this time.

“So, who exactly are you?” Nakia said this after she was seated next to T’Challa. Her tone was kind but her brow was raised high enough to make Hazel want to curl in on herself.

“My name is Hazel Fay. I’m from a town named Ortega, which apparently doesn’t exist here.” Of all the things Hazel couldn’t wrap her head around in the this place, the fact that she was no longer home was the hardest. In fact, home doesn’t exist, or never did exist in this place. According to Shuri and N’Jadaka.

“N’Jadaka found her in the alley of the Golden Fang. With a baby shifter. On a full moon.” Shuri’s emphasis on her last few words made Hazel wonder just how much she was missing, but everyone else at the table looked just was clueless as she felt. Bug wiggled in her arms, reaching for the plate in front of her. Hazel pulled the muffin into bits and handed them to Bug, happy to see the baby eating without problem. The last thing Hazel wants to worry about was a baby who wouldn’t eat.

“And you just appeared here?”

“Yes Nakia! Her presence here is a matter of the divine. Bast herself brought her to us, for some…reason.” Shuri said all this with excitement, but N’Jadaka couldn’t resist a snort. He loved his cousin, but sometimes she let her scientific ideals blind her to reality. This human still hasn’t proven much of anything yet.

“We still don’t have proof that she isn’t from our…world.”

“And that’s where you come in, Brother.” SHuri turned to T’Challa with a grin.

“What is the perfect candidate going to do to prove your theory Shuri?” N’Jadaka’s voice was teasing and Shuri rolled her eyes. T’Challa and Nakia watched on in silence, apparently used to this kind of thing.

“Aside from being the perfect presidential candidate, my brother is a scientist too.” After relaying this information to Hazel, Shuri turned to N’Jadaka with a childish sneer.

“T’Challa is going to scan her and ensure she isn’t in the system. She won’t be, but until N’Jadaka gets his head out of his A-S-S and learns to trust me, we’ll have to waste time.” The man in question rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Hazel was grateful that Shuri spelled out the curse word and couldn’t help but giggle a bit at their interaction. T’Challa on the other hand took charge. He turned Hazel to face him and raised his arm.

“I suppose a retina scan cannot hurt.” T’Challa pressed a finger to his kimoyo beads and a thin blue bar moved over Hazel’s eyes before she could blink.

“Brother just scanned your eyes and is running them through the system. Every creature in or world is registered from the moment of their creation, though only certain beings have access to certain databanks. As a high ranking vampire official, T’Challa has access to everything.” Shuri finished her spiel with a prideful wave, but Hazel could only nod slowly. Just as she thought she was getting the hang of this world, something new popped up. There was a quiet rumbling sound, like the bead was calculating before it released a long beep.

“No Record…”

“Ha! No record, which means she is not from our world because every human in our world is registered. It is impossible not to be.” N’Jadaka huffed when Shuri turned to him with her hands on her hip and a smirk to rival his own.

“Fine Shuri, you were right.”

“If she isn’t from this world, how did she get here in the first place?” Nakia asked this quietly leaning back in her chair as she observed the scene. T’Challa and Nakia had always encouraged Shuri’s natural curiosity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the hypothesis that would get her in trouble that they couldn’t get her out of. She prayed to Bast that that day would never come, but looking at this unregistered human had her heightened senses on alert.

“And how do I get back?”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 11, 2040

5:12PM

Four days. Harley has been hiking for four days. Four days in the Calawuga heat, marching on the hardened soil in barely broken in boots. All to see the mystical Oma. Whoever the fuck that is. To be fair, Harley had a vague inclination of who Oma is; a mountain witch with ties to the Great Gorilla tribe. That’s as much as she knew off hand, and after four days of hiking with Shuri, her curiosity won out over her pride.

“So, why exactly are we going to see Oma?”

“She’s the Queen of the Great Gorilla Tribe.” Shuri said this like it was common knowledge, which in part is was. The Great Gorilla’s kept to themselves for the most part, but the town knew their hierarchy. M’Baku was king and his Queen, Oma was the most powerful witch in the town. The only reason Harley hadn’t gone to Oma in the first place is because of the falling out Killmonger had with M’Baku when he decided to marry Oma. The man hates witches so much, he let it ruin his best friendship.

“And?”

“Seriously? You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.” Harley’s annoyance seeped into every word but Shuri shook her head.

“Aside form being a crazy powerful witch, she’s one of the only witches who’s messed with spell work and white magic. Well, one of the only ones who’s lived to tell the tale.” Harley was impressed to say the least. She’d never even bothered with withe magic, the idea of it was more than enough to put her off. White magic or spirit magic in some circles, is more than dangerous. It’s a brush with death. Speaking to the dead is almost always more trouble than it’s worth and Harley never needed the power that came with that kind of magic. That is, until now.

“I can’t believe Monger didn’t tell you.”

“It’s not like he’s my biggest fan Shuri.” Shuri snorted, but in a way that challenged Harley’s statement.

“Shuri, the man hates me.”

“He really doesn’t. He’s just––” They heard the vocalizations before Shuri could get another word out. In a minute, they were surrounded.

Queen Oma of the Great Gorilla Tribe lives deep in the Calawat mountain range. A four day hike will get you to the boarders of her land, but it will take another six hours by foot. Maybe seven if you’re surrounded by an elite force of Calawugan warriors. When the pair were initially surrounded, Harley began sizing up her opponents. They were big, and fierce, but Harley thought with the right amount focus, she could take them. Shuri stopped her before it could come to that, speaking to the warriors in their native tongue, promising them that the duo meant no harm and only requested an audience with the Queen.

They were brought to the palace, a wooden masterpiece that sat on the second highest peak in the mountain. The highest peak was reserved for Hanuman of course, their Gorilla headed god. The halls of the palace were light and open, far from the fortresses of the tribal bars back in town, and Harley marveled at how deeply she could breath the mountain air. It had been a while since she had taken a breath not filled with the scent of smoke and booze.

Their audience with the queen was granted after a moment of waiting and they followed their craven of warriors into an octagonal room. In each wall rested a window and above, the ceiling fell away to nothing in the middle. It was reminiscent of a roman atrium pillars, wooden instead of stone, and the ground paved smooth.

“Queen Oma, we thank you for meeting with us.” The King was nowhere to be found but taking in the woman Shuri called queen, she didn’t find that strange at all.

Queen Oma stood tall on a rug woven with fresh palm leaves and a crown resting on her head. Small skulls the size of Harley’s palm dangled from the regent’s ears and she granted Shuri a closed lipped smile.

“Shuri, I trust this is important. It is nearing the end of hunting season you know.”

“It is Queen Oma.” Harley was surprised to hear that Shuri never dropped the title of Queen with Oma. Shuri would grant anyone else a ridiculous nickname, but with the Queen, it was only respect.

“My friend and I,” Shuri waved to Harley, and Harley curtsied for lack of better ideas on how best to show respect. “we need your advice spell working.” In an instant, Queen Oma turned her gaze to Harley.

“You want to do spell work? Why?” Bright brown eyes captivated Harley, causing her to scramble for words while Shuri nudged her arm.

“My…” Harley reached for the words to best describe what Ayana was to her, and then decided to avoid that rabbit hole completely.

“I need to find someone. She’s disappeared.”

“And you think spell working will help you? Why?”

“I––I don’t know what else to try.”

“Scrying.” Harley knew what scrying was, a certain type of meditation witches could use to see the future. Harley also knew that she couldn’t do it.

“My energy isn��t particularly inclined towards premonition.”

“It’s a good thing that scrying isn’t solely for premonition then isn’t it?” With a nod, Oma had the room cleared. Only Shuri, Harley and Oma stood in that large rotunda.

The night sky loomed overhead, stars winking into existence here and there. Scraping sounded from the right and before Harley could fall into a defensive position at the sudden sound, Oma stopped her with a hand. Oma strolled to the side of the room, scooping up a large bowl that had been slid into the room from outside and brought it to the center of the room. She placed it on the dais that sat there under the dark sky and gestured for me to look into it.

“I really don’t know how to do this.”

“I will guide you. Now look.”

With a deep breath, Harley turned her gaze downwards, into the bowl. There was a dark liquid in the bowl, still settling from movement. It was so dark Harley could see the whites of her eyes reflected in it, her brown skin finding highlights in the shimmering fluid.

“Concentrate on who you want to see. Not how she was or how she might be, but how she is, in this very moment.”

Harley concentrated. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes. She held her breath and scratched her neck. All of this, and she saw nothing.

“It’s not working.”

“That is because you do not believe it will work. You do not believe your energy will let you see anything outside of your realm of knowledge. You must expand your mind, your energy. Use everything you have to reach out, to see her, to find her.”

Harley forced herself to take Oma’s words seriously. Sure she’s never done this before, but until now, no witch had ever told Harley that she didn’t have the power to do something magical. That she didn’t believe in her energy. Harley knew how powerful she was. Powerful enough to frighten all of her neighbors and classmates with a single glance. Powerful enough to bring down the electricity for her entire city, and bring it back up again. Harley knew power, knew energy, she just wasn’t sure how to wield it.

So she buckled down. She closed her eyes for a breath, and on the exhale opened them slowly. As she raise her eyelids, she could see flecks of energy that flickered around the room. Aura’s could be tricky to see, but on nights like these, dark and clear, she couldn’t help but see them. Shuri’s blazed bright purple, and Oma’s was and emerald green, but Harley was searching for her own. Blue like the inner flame of a fire. She caught a glimpse of it, sitting right beside the bowl. Concentrate on expanding your energy.

For a moment, Harley wasn’t quite sure what to do. She’d found her energy, but controlling it was another thing entirely. Before she could spiral into any sort of despair, she asked her energy to move. To stretch and seek out Ayana, to find her fuschia energy wherever it might be. Harley watched as her energy pulsed brightly, then began to move, flitting around like a firefly. Then, just as she thought she might be going crazy, an image flickered in the bowl.

It was a girl. A girl who looked like Harley before she shaved the sides of her head and got more piercings than she could count. They had the same hickory skin, the same brown eyes, and the same wide nose. For a moment Harley thought the girl was her, that she had messed up and summoned an image of the past, but then she saw Ayana. The baby girl, her baby girl was cuddled up in her Golden Jag cut, snuffling into the neck of the girl who looked so much like Harley. Then another woman, draped in black walked into the frame of the bowl. Her eyes echoed Harley’s own, and Harley couldn’t keep herself from jumping in surprise.

Her movement was enough to shake the bowl and knock her out of focus, but when she looked up, Harley relief curved her lips into a smile.

“She’s alive.”

A/N: Soooooooo we’re getting a little more information here, but nothing definitive. Yet.

So apparently Okoye is a surname? Am I the only who didn’t know that? I tried to find a “first name/christian name” for Okoye on the Wiki and in the comics, but there was nothing… So, Professor Okoye it is!

N’Jadaka is a bougie vampire lol. I would expect nothing less tho tbh. Also vampire subcultures! That was fun to write! Adize actually means “magic” in the Ghanian language of ewe :)

Hazel still doesn’t really know where the hell she is, and Harley has finally seen Ayana! Now she just has to tell ‘Monger and get that baby back in the right dimension. Should be easy enough, right?

Fun Fact: You can actually bake with blood. In some recipes it takes the place of egg whites/leavening agents, though it takes like three times as long to whip up in comparison to egg whites. Learned about that in this podcast! (Do not listen to this if you are squeamish!!!!!)

As always let me know what y’all think!

The Mystery of the Golden Fang Mood Board

A Map Made in Heaven

Masterlist

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis @queenamaniii @thatrandomfangirl98@dreadedphilosphy @killmongurl @thelovelyliterary @elaindeereads @thedom223@bidibidibombaclaat@thatrandomfangirl98 @panthergoddessbast @nemesispawn@writingmarvellousimagines @someareblindtoitsbeauty @jozigrrl @iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone @janelledarling

#The Mystery of the Golden Fang #bpfic #black panther #black panther fic #erik killmonger fic #erik killmonger x black!OC #erik killmonger #multiple reality AU

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voltron-s7-8-rewrite · 5 years

Text

The Last Stand, Part 1

This is part of my Voltron Season 7 & 8 re-write. If you are interested start HERE

(Just as a warning, this is not beta’d)

The Last Stand, Part 1

Not wasting a minute more, the Paladins push forward, heading for Earth.

Pidge attempts to contact her father, and after a moment hears his voice come through, however she quickly realizes it's a pre-recorded message. The Paladins listen, horrified, as the message reveals that the Galra have invaded Earth, enslaving most of humanity. The Garrison has held on for as long as they can, but the time has come for them to make their final stand.

Four years earlier:

One week after having returned to Earth, Samuel Holt awakens in a secure room. Admiral Sanda of the Galaxy Garrison enters and greets him.

Sam asks if he's free to leave yet, and Sanda says that all the tests have come back, and that he has been cleared of any possible problems. Frustrated by the quarantine, Sam snaps that he could have told her that.

Hearing his tone, Sanda reminds him that he knew he would be receiving tests when he returned from Kurboros, spending years in alien environments made them even more vital; the Garrison is not willing to risk the lives of others by not following protocol. Her point defuses Sam and he relents, understanding the reasoning.

He tells her he has vital information that he needs to share. Sanda says that the Garrison Leadership want to hear all he has to say, and they can now schedule a debriefing for him. Sam says that while she does that, he needs to see his wife, Colleen.

His request granted, for the first time in years, the husband and wife reunite. Colleen asks what happened, explaining that she thought he was dead. Sam tells her that he, Matt, and Shiro were abducted by a hostel alien race when on the Kerberos mission.

Colleen asks if Matt is with him, but Sam lets her know that he is still in space with Pidge. He explains to both her and Sanda that he was given a transmitter that will allow them to contact Pidge and Matt. Sanda says before they can contact anyone, the Garrison needs to hear his story, and that any messages sent will have to be done carefully and cautiously for Earth’s safety.

Colleen is upset at that, wanting to talk to her children now, but Sam understands and agrees to give his debriefing.

With the Garrison leadership gathered together, Sam begins explaining everything that happened from when the Kerberos crew was first captured, up to his recent return home. The Leadership has a hard time accepting everything, but Sam shows them all the proof and information they need to finally believe.

As they discuss how to handle this, Sam says that Earth needs to begin building their defenses, as war is coming. He then says he believes they should reveal the existence of the Galra and their war on the universe to the world. Sanda and the Leadership immediately dismiss that idea, as that could cause a global panic, inciting an unfathomable amount of damage to people and society in general.

Sam argues that the Galra will come to Earth, and the world needs to prepare. However, Sanda says that they don’t have enough information on the current state of the war, nor have had any time to take in what little information he just shared to justify the potential mass panic, destruction, and loss of life that could ensue from jumping the gun.

Sam says that if he can contact his children and the Paladins, he could start getting the answers they need. Sanda agrees to that, and Sam attempts to send out a call using the transmitter. However, neither Pidge nor Matt answers.

Sanda says they will have someone continuously monitoring and sending out messages in order to make contact, but in the meantime, they will hold off on revealing anything to the world.

Sam says even so, they need to star other preparations, and Iverson says that they already have.

The Garrison Leaders take Sam and Colleen to the development hangers. Iverson explains how they have been working for over a year on reverse engineering the Galran ship Shiro brought to Earth, and have now begun studying the Altean ship Sam brought. He tells him that while they have been able to power up parts of the ships, they have been unable to make either fly. Sam says it might have something to do with the crystals that power the ship, and says he will help them look into it.

Sanda continue son, explaining how they have created simulators based on the controls of these ships in order to figure out how to integrate the tech into their own. They have also begun to train pilots on how to fly them.

Sam is then introduced to four of the best recently graduated Garrison cadets, Ina Leifsdottir, James Griffin, Nadia Rizavi, and Ryan Kinkade. Out of all that have been training, these four have been able to adapt and learn how to operate the systems the best.

Sam is glad to hear this, but says they need to get them out of the simulators, and flying the real thing. Rizavi says that the ships aren't able to fly, but Sam says they won't be flying the ships he and Shiro brought, leaving the young officers confused.

Sam further explains to the Leadership all the things the Galra forced him to build, and later what he learned from the Olkari on integrating technologies. He says they can use this information, as well as the Altean schematics given to him by Allura and Coran to build all that they need.

Following his instructions, the Garrison begins working on upgrading the base's defenses and weapons, while designing and building fighter aircraft.

As soon as the new ships are built, Griffin, Rizavi, Leifsdottir, and Kinkade begin testing the newly dubbed “Mecha-Flex-Exo Ares fighters," or “MFE’s" for short. While there is a bit of a learning curve, the four adapt well to the Alien-Earth tech. Amongst them, Griffin quickly stands out as the one to lead the group.

As that happens, the Garrison also begin working on a warship/mobile command center that they hope will be enough to defend the Earth until help arrives.

After a year of research, discovery, and creation, the Garrison has a much better grip on the technological advances that were brought to them.

The four young officers stand as a shining examples of how well humans will be able to adapt to all the new technology, as they have completely adapted to their fighters, confident in their understanding of the ships and are eager to learn more. Sam and Iverson watch on in pride as the four work together, adapting to each other’s movements and following Griffin's lead. As they talk about how far things have come so quickly, Sam is called for by the communications officer.

Arriving to the Communications Room, Sam finds Sanda and Colleen are already there. Colleen says that Matt has finally responded, and Sam rushes to talk to his son. He asks Matt if he's alright, as they've been unable to contact him and Voltron. Matt reveals that no one has seen, or heard from Voltron or Lotor in six months.

Sam asks what happened, and Matt says they don't know for sure. There were rumors that Voltron and Lotor fought, but nothing was confirmed. However, since their disappearance, the Empire that was being built under Lotor’s rule fractured and there is no longer one single leader for the Galra. Different Galran Warlords have been conquering as much as they can, while also hunting down and destroying anyone apart of, or connected to the Voltron coalition, Rebels, and Blade of Marmora.

Matt begs them to stop sending out messages, as they are going to end up attracting the wrong attention to Earth. He says the Rebels will do all they can to send some aid as soon as possible, but they have their hands tied at the moment.

Matt has to end the conversation, but before he does he warns them to do whatever they can to prepare for war, because the Galra will come.

With this information, Sam and Colleen once again speak to Sanda and the Leadership about informing the world what’s going on. The Holts argue that this is not something that just their country alone can decide; the entire Earth needs to be involved.

Sanda believes the Holts are allowing their emotions overrule logic. With Sam having shared the Paladin’s stories, she knows that they’ve willingly put their personal feelings aside for the good of the universe; she feels Sam and Colleen have been putting their own desire of getting in the fight in order to be with their children above everything else, and they aren’t taking into consideration the impact this could have on the world if people don’t unite.

Sam says it’s true that they want to be with their children more than anything, but they do honestly believe that the only way Earth has a chance, is if humanity works together. He points out that for 10,000 years there have been small resistances fighting the Galra; from the Blade, to the Rebels, and other groups. However, it wasn’t until the Paladins came and united these forces that any real difference was made.

He says he believes the Garrison can follow in the Paladin’s footsteps and help the people of Earth come together as one force to fight back against whatever might come against them.

Sanda and the Leadership consider his words and say that while they can’t overstep the authority of other countries and tell the entire world, they will start informing the leadership of the other countries. That way each nation can speak to their people in their own way, ensuring the safety of their citizens without mass hysteria hurting the innocent.

Sam, Colleen, and Sanda shake on it, and the Garrison begins spreading what they know with the other nations. Each country begins sharing with their citizens, and while there is panic at first, Sam and Colleen make a video telling the Paladin’s stories that is shown to the world. Hearing about the Paladins, what they’ve been through, and how they have been out there fighting for Humanity and the universe, begins bringing the world together.

The Paladins fought for Earth all this time, now Earth will fight for them.

As Earth unites and the Garrison's final defenses are brought online, Sendak’s forces, The Fire of Purification, arrive and begin their invasion.

Notes:

Hopefully this and the next story will come off alright. I kind of struggled through them, cause even through they're important to the overall story, they're hard ones to really be engaged in.

So, I’m not expecting to change people’s minds on Sanda’s character, because she was terribly written in the show. I’m just hoping I can make her a bit more tolerable. I honestly hate what the Creators did with the her character. I get what they were going for, making her being the big, bad, Government bureaucrat whose only purpose is there to serve as a non-threatening antagonist for our heroes, but I am just so sick of seeing this type of unoriginal, clichéd character. Because aside from lazy and boring, it’s just insulting.

I’ve known a number of military types in my life, and while none were as high of a rank as she was implied to be, they were all great and upstanding people who wanted to do good for this world and protect the innocent. I know bad people exist, and bad people in high places definitely exist, but they are not the majority.

I think it would have been far more refreshing and interesting to see Sanda depicted in a more balanced light. You could still have her and Sam argue over how to go about things, but make any conflict stem from having to approach situations from a different point of view due to their positions and responsibilities. Not because she’s a brain dead, traitorous, moron who thinks handing everything over to the bloodthirsty conqueror will work out in their favor….but I digress.

Really, when watching this episode, I was agreeing with a lot of Sanda’s arguments. She’s framed in a way that pushes the audience to be against her and on the Holts side, but really, some of her points and concerns were right.

Truthfully, I found Sam and Colleen's actions to be wrong. They came off as if their motivation was really about wanting to be with their kids, Earth be damned. The way they overstepped everyone and selfishly revealed everything to the world was so, so stupid. It’s only because the story wanted them to be right that nothing horrible, like mass hysteria, riots, a collapse of society, or deaths, came from their actions.

And actually, giving them flaws when it comes to their feelings for their kids isn’t a bad idea, as that could have been used as character development, but of course that didn’t happen. The Holts did whatever they wanted and nothing bad came from it, so clearly they were in the right. Because that’s how life works.

For the whole 'Earth immediately coming together after hearing about an imminent alien invasion' element of the episode, I get the creators have implied there’s some sort of Star Trek-esk utopian future, where world is already a united force. But from what little we were shown of humanity, I didn’t get that feeling at all. So, having everything perfectly come together seemed to only happen to push the story along quickly, and not have any fallout from Sam and Colleen's actions.

My thought is, rather than having Humanity already be perfectly united, have this be the catalyst for that to happen. Have the Paladin’s selflessness and devotion to their world, and the universe inspire the people of Earth to do better and come together as one force.

Thanks for reading, have a great day!

#james griffin #ina leifsdottir #nadia rizavi #ryan kincade #voltron #MyVoltronSeasonSummary #mywritings

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