#regan burns

[djsherriff]

I been rambling on tumblr about a lot of theories about CLH, but to keep it short I think Sarah’s mother, Regan Burns , was part of the Templar order. I also believe that Bullfrog’s backstory will parallel Sarah’s and so I think his mother was an assassin (hence the traced edit I made)

#character design #captain laserhawk #sarah fisher #regan burns #splinter cell #artists on tumblr #digital art #procreate

[dextraicarus1994]

Man, I think I have a little obssesion with this two now... Here is the four drawings that I have been doing of my interpretation of Regan Burns if she was in the Captain Laserhawk series calling this series of drawings: Obsessive Love. Here is the lore of this:

In the Splinter Cell novel, Regan is a good person, strong, with firm beliefs and a loving mother to Sarah.

In my version, she is the contrary, well, she loves her daughter and her husband, but as a member of the Eden Council Directive, her primary priority is to achieve Eden goals no matter what, even it means betraying the trust from the ones she loves and even using them as a tools. Regan has indoctrinated Sarah in the Eden ideals without Sam knowing, keeping her true identity as a complete secret to the point into faking her death and keep watching how both her family was keeping going without her presence.

Of course, everything was orchestrated as planned, her plans... Giving Sarah a purpose, in an ideal to fight for...

She couldn't say the same for Sam, who years later, discovered the truth behind Regan manipulations, thanks to Anna Grimsdöttir and Marcus Holloway in a mission against Eden in which in the data leak, he managed to see an image of her as a member of the Board of Directors of Eden.

Seeing that everything was a lie and was only used as a tool for the achievement of Regan to Eden, Sam pushed her away, divorced and even threatened her if she gets close to Sarah and him again, she would regret it.

Of course, Regan would not accept a "No" for an answer and eventually orchestrated a big plan that not only would bring Eden plans into motion, but to bring Sam back to her, to her side, into her new world, lead by her daughter and return as a family.

She did know that Sam was a person with his own convictions and would be difficult to go under his skin, but time was not a problem with her, no when she set all her plans into bringing him into the deepest side of the VR prison, where no one would blink an eye, not even his hacker friend Marcus Holloway would be able to find him; she would be now under control of every thought, every emotion his husband had, breaking him slowly to then putting back the broken pieces into the shapes she wanted it.

The process had been slow, since Sam's will was stronger than anything she ever faced as an Eden templar, but she knows him for years, and has watched every move since he did the big escape of Eden history in freeing Marcus Holloway from the hellhole he was trapped in.

Sam was respected and feared for a reason and that was something that always loved about him, his motivation, his dedication in not leaving any person behind no matter the circumstances, he was a person who achieved his commitments, after all his work was to prevent world wars.

Not for long...

Or is there still some way to escape this new hell?

Time will only say. 🌹🌹🌹🌹

#splinter cell #splintercell #videogames #sam fisher #splintercellsamfisher #r6s zero #fanart #r6 zero #digitalart #digital art #captain laserhawk spoilers #captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk au #clhsamfisher #clh au #clh regan burns #regan burns #dark themes #toxic romance #clhsarahfisher #rainbow six siege #rainbow six fanart #r6zero #zero rainbow six siege #captain laserhawk a blood dragon remix

[weirdlookindog]

Kiss Daddy Goodbye (1981) - VHS Cover

AKA Revenge of the Zombie, Vengeful Dead, Caution; Children at Play

#kiss daddy goodbye #revenge of the zombie #fabian forte #marilyn burns #jon cedar #1981 #1980s movies #patrick regan #trash #horror #vhs #vhs cover

[woodlinecrafting]

Recently completed spooky burns! Happy spooky season!!

#pyrography #woodburning #woodlinecrafting #wood burning #etsyseller #etsyshop #smallbusiness #crafting #bride of frankenstein #frankenstein #the exorcist #Regan #scary stories #spooky #spooky season #halloween #happy halloween

[callixton]

stast!edmund & goneril literally make me want to cry & throw up btw…… like they are SO CLOSE TO GETTING OUT. THEY R SO CLOSE TO CONNECTING. and they never quite get there they’re always ships passing they’re never quite having the same conversation they always find one last way to twist the knife……..

#know’st thou this paper? :’( #i would’ve killed myself too tbh. anyway #like edmund and regan is always going to burn out hard and fast that is what they’re built for… #but those two could’ve had something if they had just been taught a little bit more abt how to love :( #ted talks #lear adaptation #king lear

[cherylmmbookblog]

#BlogTour The Burning Question by Linda Regan

#BlogTour The Burning Question by Linda Regan

It’s a pleasure to take part in the Blogtour The Burning Question by Linda Regan. About the Author Linda Regan is the prolific writer of eight crime novels, as well as a celebrated actress of stage and screen. After winning a worldwide writing competition with her novel Behind You! (2006), Linda published seven more novels, including Passion Killers (2007) which was selected as a Sunday…

View On WordPress

#Blogtour #crime #FMcM Associates #Headline Accent #Linda Regan #The Burning Question #The DCI Banham 5

[ritusmiles]

The Burning Question by @Linda_Regan #BlogTour #NewRelease @fmcmassociates

The Burning Question by @Linda_Regan #BlogTour #NewRelease @fmcmassociates

I am thrilled to be a part of the blog tour for the new release by prolific crime writer, Linda Regan! Here’s the blurb! DCI Paul Banham and DI Alison Grainger are back. This time they’re investigating the tragic death of a young woman, burnt in her home. When another identical arson attack is reported, Grainger and Banham are on the hunt for a link, unaware that the new trainee DC, Hannah…

View On WordPress

#Blog #Blog Post #Blog Tour #Blogger #Blogging #Linda Regan #The Burning Question

[twistedtowers]

Regan's getting too many hugs. I wanna hug Eoghan :3 the several degree burns will be worth it

#alton towers #my ocs #my art #digital art #ask #the wickerman

[weaselle]

i hate the state our government is in, i believe much of our government is corrupt or broken, and i detest the two party system

the way our first-past-the-post voting system works, basically guarantees we wind up with two parties that nobody likes, because it forces logical people to vote against the worst instead of voting for the best.

here is a great short video explaining the how and why (and i highly recommend CGP Grey's other videos explaining other voting systems that are better, and also his video on gerrymandering)

but that's the voting system we have. We should change it, but in the meantime, we have to vote using the system that exists, and that leaves us with a choice between democrats and republicans. Usually this voting system results in two extremist parties on far sides, but we seem to have an extremist party and a centrist party at the moment.

republicans have pretty clearly devolved into the party of fascism. Even my misguided family members that voted for Regan back in the day are too disgusted with what the republicans have become to vote republican, and that's, boy, that says something.

and democrats? i often have problems with what they do. It wouldn't be politics otherwise But the democrats are electing black and gay and muslim and trans people to important offices. Democrats are trying to do some things in areas i care about. They really are trying to do some things we care about very much, and when you look into why it’s not succeeding it’s usually because of underhanded republican shit

For instance, bills get passed around before they get voted into law, and something called a “rider” can be attached as part of the bill.

So for example, maybe democrats want a law that makes equal pay for woman legally protected, and they call it the Women’s Equality Bill. So republicans will attach a rider that says “and also every teacher has to carry a gun” Now the bill is no longer about equal pay for women, and even if it makes it to vote, democrats have to risk every major news outlet publishing headlines that say they voted no on something called the Women’s Equality Bill, or that they voted yes on More Guns in Schools

(because those kind of inflammatory headlines make media outlets more money, and we all know how often anyone reads more than the headline)

A lot of shit like that happens where republicans basically try to game the system every way they can to create a christian corporate oligarchy and get wealthy, while dems lose by trying to play fair.

Meanwhile the republicans are trying to undo any progress we have made, start border wars, destroy our health and education.. i mean ffs republicans have repeatedly fought in many states for girls to be able to be married between the ages of 13-16 (which is to say they’ve KEPT IT LEGAL, outvoting many democrat attempts to pass laws that raise the age to 18)

They’re actively obstructing attempts at reducing climate change, they’re banning books! they are the party of book burning! of censoring schools! they are by many definitions of the word, a de facto party of fascism.

So like, don’t expect a vote to solve everything, but also, let’s not do republicans any favors. Vote, and vote blue. And not just for president. Participate in votes for governors and congress people and senators.

and maybe also we can agitate for a change to our voting system, because otherwise we will only ever have two political parties, and we probably won't like either of them.

#politics #us politics #Youtube

[dextraicarus1994]

Here it is my interpretation of Regan Burns (Sarah Fisher mother from all media in the Splinter Cell Universe) as a member of the Eden Directive Council. I want to thank @djsherriff-responses for giving me inspiration in doing this. 🥹🥹🥹👉👈💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤

#splinter cell #splintercell #videogames #sam fisher #splintercellsamfisher #fanart #r6s zero #r6 zero #digitalart #digital art #captain laserhawk spoilers #captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk a blood dragon remix #clhsamfisher #clh au #clh regan burns #sarah fisher captain laserhawk #sarah fisher clh #captain laserhawk sarah fisher #sarah fisher #r6community #r6s fanart #r6siege #r6s #rainbow six fanart #rainbow six siege #sam zero fisher #Regan Burns #Splinter Cell Regan Burns

[djsherriff-responses]

Actually wait something else that supports my "Sarah's story is a parallel to Bullfrog's story" theory and my "Bullfrog's mother was an assassin" theory

Sarah looks nothing like Sam

From what I've gathered regarding Splinter cell lore is that , despite being important to the main character and mother of his child, Regan Burns never had a physical appearance in any games, her physical appearance is left more or less blank

In most media , Sarah is a white woman with dark hair while in CLH Sarah is a brown woman with silver hair

However in both games and CLH, Sam is a white man with dark hair

While Sam in CLH isn’t an exact copy of his video game counterpart, Sam and Sarah in the splinter cell series do have a much stronger family resemblance to each other than that of their counterparts in the remixed universe

That’s….. weird, right? Like , it’s an odd creative choice to have Sarah be so drastically different to her game version that even her race is different while Sam , her father, still resembles the character he’s originally remixed from

While concept art did explore other options regarding her hair eye, and skin colour, including pale skin and dark hair like her game version, Sarah having pale hair specifically seemed like a design element the crew felt strongly towards and wanted to use

Yes the Warden being Sarah Fisher, the daughter of Sam Fisher, is meant as a plot twist. HOWEVER, we don’t learn about Sam’s existence until Sarah explains her backstory , meaning the crew could’ve given Sam some traits to better reflect his blood connection to his daughter in this universe

Sarah’s lack of physical resemblance to her father may have some narrative symbolism to it, the most obvious being how drastically different she and her father’s morals are. However, I also think it ties back to my theory that Regan was a Templar and was the one who gave Sarah her beliefs in life that lead to her behaviour in the show proper

Sarah didn’t just inherited Regan’s Templar status and beliefs , Sarah also physically resembles her mother more than her father

I know this is completely random to bring up, but I’m making a Kingdom Hearts reference

Specifically, Xehanort, a villain whose prominent features is his silver hair and gold eyes combo

Now obviously Ubisoft has no rights to use anything Kingdom hearts related , and so I seriously doubt we’ll see a flashback of Sam making out with a Xehanorted Regan in season two (don’t ask what Xehanorted is if you never played KH, it’s hard to explain)

The reason I’m bringing him up is to point out that while Captain Laserhawk is a show about video games, it’s specifically an anime show about video games

I can’t find anything regarding his opinion on the KH franchise itself, though Adi did talk about how Rodger Rabbit was an inspiration for CLH, another massive crossover story owned by Disney. Considering how he likes to tip his toes into all sorts of geeky stuff, it’s unlikely he hasn’t encountered the Kingdom Hearts franchise

I think the Templars may be inspired by Xehanort to a degree

A majority of the human characters (both who have a narrative role and background role) shown in the CLH universe thus far have natural hair and eye colours

While there’s outliners such as Pagan Min and Mute having pink hair, those two are easily explained by the existence of hair dye

Sarah however, was born with gold eyes and silver hair

While I don’t think every member of the board of directors/templar order have a sun kissed complexion under those masks like Sarah does, I do think it’s likely that gold eyes and silver hair is a common trait they share under those masks

And we know from the manga that Eden is practicing some form of eugenics with how they specifically took Dolph from his own mother for having good genetics, it’s likely that the board keeps heavy tabs on people that have Templar DNA within them

“Okay so how does Bullfrog’s mother fit into this-“ you notice how Bullfrog is one of the more feminine looking male characters in the show?

It may have just been me who originally mistook him for being a girl before the show actually came out, but I don’t think it’s an accident that he has feminine/softer leaning design elements. It’s even pointed out by the crew they specifically designed Bullfrog to be cute , you can even see that reflected throughout Bullfrog’s concept art

So since Sarah parallels Bullfrog, and she both took her mother’s ideals and inherited most of her physical traits from her, than it’s likely Bullfrog not only took after his mother in her beliefs, but also has a very strong resemblance to his mother

Basically, Bullfrog’s mama was a cute assassin milf

#captain laserhawk #Bullfrog korvin junior #clh bullfrog #Splinter cell #sarah fisher #captain laserhawk spoilers #rambles #I don’t know if I’m onto something regarding Sarah and Bullfrog’s mothers #But the gold eyes and silver hair thing I’m probably strong on at least

[eddieandbird]

Can’t Stop Staring

Summary: Eddie notices you staring at him during class and confronts you about it.

Warnings/Tags: fluff|just sweetness|short blurb

A/N: @unbetaedimagines convinced me to write a fic around my fan art and I couldn’t resist! -Bird

____

You walked into your second period government class, caught off guard by the rearrangement of the room since spring break ended. The desks were now in groups of four; two desks side by side and all four were facing each other. You sit roughly where you’d usually be. In the middle near the window.

“Good morning, fellow classmates! Are you ready for another day of pretending to pay attention?” Eddie slammed his torn up notebook on the desk in front of you. The other kids at your section rolled their eyes and gave no response.

“Good morning, Eddie,” You said softly with a smile.

“Finally someone responds! How ya doing, Darling? Did you have a good break?” He took your hand and shook it. Before you could respond, the bell rang.

“Alright, Mr. Munson. Please take your seat. Class is starting now,” Mr. Levi scolded him.

“Sorry, Teach! Just trying to be friendly,” Eddie chuckled as he sat down. “He seems like he has a stick up his ass today. I’ll try to behave,” He leaned in to whisper to you. You giggled pulling out a couple notebooks.

You found it strange that even though you and Eddie had been going to school together for a couple years, you felt like you were meeting him for the first time. He wasn’t as mean and scary as your friends warned you he was. Eddie seemed really nice, charming even. You couldn’t help being stuck on the thought as Mr. Levi’s voice drowned out.

You couldn’t stop yourself from studying Eddie. You made a game of staring at him and looking away as soon as he made a sudden movement. Mr. Levi rolled a TV stand in the front of class to play a Ronald Regan speech. The assignment was to take notes on it, but you brought out your sketchbook instead. Eddie’s eyes looking off to the TV had you completely mesmerized and you knew you couldn’t resist capturing the moment. You brought your knees up to your chest, using them as a drawing surface so no one could see what you were doing.

Your cheeks were on fire, as your eyes traced lines over Eddie’s face. Your wrist was following what you saw, flicking over the paper trying to get his locks of hair in his face just perfect. Eddie felt your eyes burning into him, even though every time he would turn to look at you, your face was buried in your sketchbook.

“What?” Eddie mouthed silently to you. You shook your head in response. He rolled his eyes and went back to watching the video. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Your position wasn’t giving your lungs enough air, so you relaxed your legs, slipping them back under the desk. As soon as you did, you felt something rubbing against your ankle. You look underneath to see Eddie’s dirty white sneaker working at your leg. You lifted your head to see him smirk and then look away pretending like it didn’t happen.

“Stop,” You mouthed to him, trying not to smile too wide. He shrugged and crossed his arms, looking pleased with himself. You smirked to yourself and dove back into your drawing. You looked longingly at the picture, excitedly putting down details of Eddie’s face. You were so captured by it, you didn’t even notice that the class was wrapping up. The school bell startled you, causing you to drop your pencil. Students rushed out of the room as you bent over to pick it up. Once you returned to your previous position, you found Eddie sitting on top of your desk. He swiped your sketchbook off of your lap and you desperately reached for it. His strong arm held yours down.

“Eddie, stop! Give it back,” You whined.

“Let me see it first! I need proof that someone actually would write me love notes in class!” He declared.

“What? It’s not a love letter!” You stuttered. “It’s just a stupid doodle!” You watched in horror as Eddie gave it a long look in silence for a moment.

“W-wow… I didn’t know I looked like this…” His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. He thought to himself, this wasn’t just a doodle. The drawing had detailed shading and you got the sparkle in his eye just right. “Did you really draw this just now?” You shyly nodded. “You are amazing, seriously,” He excitedly pointed at your drawing, showing you his favorite details.

“Thanks, Eddie,” You blushed.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” He asked nervously. You giggled and shook your head, taking the sketchbook out of his hands. He watched intently as you carefully pulled out the page and handed it to him.

“Here you go, Munson,” You said as you passed it to him.

“Y’know, Hellfire could use an artist like you,” He smirked, nudging your arm.

“Your D&D club? I thought that was just a roleplay game,” You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, but I’m looking to upgrade the campaigns a little more visually. I would love it if you came and helped me draw maps and paint figures with me,” He had one hand on his chest and the other out for you to shake.

“I’m going to have to see what my schedule’s like…” You elongated your words. “…but sure, why not?” You took Eddie’s hand and shook it.

“Welcome to Hellfire,” He smiled back.

Sequel

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fan art

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ok so regarding the stranger things extended universe, i definitely want to know more about nancy and her storyline, like does this become her career ? investigating government conspiracies? And how does she feel about it? About not living a more peaceful life after everything?

After something like Hawkins, there are three ways to go if you want to keep sane, Nancy thinks. Or, well. As sane as any of them are, now.

Some of them went out into the world ready to grab life and joy with both hands and all their teeth, the memory of how close death came to devouring them enough to spur them on to devour life right back. (Eddie's playing Boston next week, wants to know if she'll go to his show; Max and El, last Nancy heard, are learning to surf.) Some of them went out into the world still full of combat reflexes they didn't mean to keep and tripped into a new fight, a slower quieter more mundane one. (She saw the photos Jonathan took last time he visited Steve and Robin in Chicago, the protests last month, the signs, the flags.) And some of them...well. Some of them left the lessons of Hawkins a little less behind than that.

They won in Hawkins, inasmuch as burned-out buildings and the town memorials and the deep scars cutting through a still-damaged downtown count as winning. That battle's fought and won and done. But Nancy hasn't forgotten who started it, and it wasn't Henry Creel.

(She'll argue with Dustin about it, over a mountain of fried shrimp and a pitcher of beer he's somehow old enough to legally buy, because Dustin's always cared more about the how than the why. He thinks the important lesson of Hawkins is that the laws of physics known by everybody across the global scientific community are wrong. They spend an hour and a half going back and forth about Oppenheimer and Eisenhower, Regan and Brezhnev and Martin Brenner, because one of the only differences between Vecna and a nuclear bomb is still the fact that nobody thinks Vecna could exist, but Dustin is wrong about why that's important.)

Science can do a thousand things nobody thinks it can do. Science can split an atom. Science can split dimensions. It doesn't matter why it's possible; it doesn't even really matter what's possible, beyond the fact that massive governments with thousands of soldiers and billions of dollars can always kill when they want to. Whether it's a bomb or a child experiment or a gas leak.

What matters, every time, is that people are dead. What matters is that the public needs to know.

Nancy makes her name in college breaking a story about illegal sewage dumping near a residential neighborhood before the Boston Globe even has it. She gets a professor fired for plagiarism. She almost gets expelled for libel when she tries to run a story about date rape on campus. (She almost gets caught slashing tires, after that one, but she learned from the best. Erica Sinclair taught her plenty about stealth, and Murray's been trying to drive in the idea of patience since the first time they met.)

It's not about monsters, it was never about monsters. There aren't any more monsters, Nancy thinks. (She keeps a licensed handgun in a shoebox in her apartment, because she ran out of ammo for the Makarov years ago, because monsters aren't the only things that like to threaten too-curious reporters in the middle of the night, and because you never know.) It's always been about the people the monsters destroy.

Nobody will ever believe the story of what destroyed Hawkins, probably. (Maybe someday they'll declassify. Nancy has a four-hundred-page memoir under lock and key in the safe where she doesn't store her gun, if the world ever gets there. Maybe she'll just pass it down to Mike's grandchildren.) But people know now that it was Hawkins National Lab. That some kind of government weapons research, right there on Indiana soil, broke a small town in half. That's something.

Nancy graduates college and interns anywhere she can get a foot in the door. The Globe. The Times. The Washington Post. The Post, finally, sticks. There's an editor there who loves to give new reporters just enough slack in their leashes to hang themselves with, so they can fill the back of the paper with issue-selling scandal and then have somebody to fire if the wrong person in power gets upset. Nancy does three months of research, jotting off puff pieces and human interest stories about charity work and bills with no opposition, quietly filling up file folders of photos and receipts and evidence that nobody can prove she didn't obtain legally. Her first headline runs on a Tuesday morning and gets a White House senior staffer fired by Thursday afternoon.

It could have gotten her clearing out her desk by the end of Friday, but Nancy was careful. Nancy was smart. It chafes from the inside out, like a blister on her soul, but she knows all about water it down. She could've implicated a dozen elected officials in this, and ten of them would have skated right by with no trouble, just plenty of cause to make Nancy trouble right back. (There are already people in Washington who know her name. Nancy knows there are files about her in the Pentagon.) So she's careful, she's delicate, and she implies nothing at all about anybody she can't demolish outright. She waters it down. It gets her a promotion.

.

Nancy doesn't drink icewater vodka, herself. She likes whiskey instead, in her coffee, in her tea. She talks on the phone with Murray Bauman at only the most irregular intervals, and he sneers at her in a way that Nancy's pretty sure translates, on Murray's tongue, to a colleague's respect. She tries not to lie. She's better at it, nowadays.

Nancy is hungry, has always been hungry. Has always been starving, one way or another, all the way back when she was twelve years old thirsting for adventure in the basement with her little brother, fifteen and ravenous for a challenge, an experience, the chance to grow up. She's choked on what she thought she wanted enough times that you'd think she'd learn by now. Mostly what it's done is toughen her teeth and teach her to chew.

She wants truth, and she can have it for herself, if she's good enough. If she doesn't try to force-feed it to the rest of the world too hard. She wants respect, she wants justice, she's selfish and selfless and hungry for all of it.

She wants to not be so afraid. She wants to not be so alone. She wants, sometimes, just once in a while, to be a little bit quiet and a little bit soft and rest.

It didn't work with Jonathan the same way it didn't work with Steve, or Liam, or Casey, or Diane. Nancy aches to be a little less alone, but she doesn't starve for it. Never once in her life has she been hungry for a person the way she's hungry for everything else. Never once in her life has she actually fallen in love back.

But Jonathan is at her front door again, because Jonathan is a yo-yo to all the people he's ever loved: backing off to give them time and space to grow, rocketing off into the world alone just for a little while, just as long as he can bear it, and then slinging himself back. Back to her again, this time.

Jonathan knows the score. Knows she loves him as much as she's ever loved anybody, other than Barb and Mike and her mother and Holly. And if it's not hunger -- if the closest Nancy has ever gotten to hunger for another person tends to happen in that oh-so-very, very discreet bar where Nancy can wear a perfectly-tailored suit and buy whiskey sours for girls in short skirts with no nightmares behind their eyes -- well, Nancy's never wanted most of them past the next morning anyway.

So sometimes Jonathan is on her couch and sometimes he's in her bed, and sometimes they fuck and sometimes all they do is sleep. When she needs a photojournalist, he's never once let her down. When she has nightmares, she wakes up just as terrified, but it's so much easier to pull herself together with someone to pull it together for. And Nancy Wheeler has never been in love, will never be in love, but she doesn't know what it could possibly have to offer that she could want more than that.

.

Does Nancy like her life? Wrong question. Stupid question. Better to ask if Nancy would have it any other way -- and well, yeah, she'd have a president who didn't sexually harass interns, a national defense budget that wasn't ten times the size of the department of education's, and a coffeemaker in the office that didn't get grounds in everything. She'd live in a world that didn't need her, find a new thing to be hungry about. Maybe she and Barb would both be on track for tenure by now.

In this world, she has half a dozen Pulitzer nominations and a Polk Award on her bookshelf. She has a locked filing cabinet full of other people's secrets and a locked safe full of her own. There's a file with her name on it somewhere in the Pentagon, although she hasn't managed to sneak in to read it yet. She's pretty sure the files on her desk about Pentagon staff are thicker.

#asked and answered #C writes stuff #the ST EU #Nancy Wheeler #yes this is part of one large extended universe #but I also stand by it as a general Nancy post-canon headcanon #let Nancy be aro and sort of gay and sort of ace and complicated about it #also let her choose to occasionally fuck boys about it anyway #:D #thank you for this prompt! #this was very much the push I needed

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

The Environmental Protection Agency unveiled a new proposal Thursday to cut greenhouse gas emissions from thousands of power plants burning coal or natural gas, two of the top sources of electricity across the United States. Sen. Joe Manchin (D-W.Va.), criticizing the “radical” proposal, issued his own scorched earth ultimatum on Wednesday ahead of the announcement.

Manchin, chair of the Senate Energy Committee and the top recipient of contributions from the oil and gas industry during the 2022 election cycle, vowed Wednesday to oppose every one of President Joe Biden’s nominees for the EPA “until they halt their government overreach.”

“This Administration is determined to advance its radical climate agenda and has made it clear they are hellbent on doing everything in their power to regulate coal and gas-fueled power plants out of existence, no matter the cost to energy security and reliability,” Manchin wrote in a statement released Wednesday.

The EPA proposal would require most fossil fuel-fired power plants to slash their greenhouse emissions by 90% between 2023 and 2040. The EPA projects the emissions reduction would deliver up to $85 billion in climate and health benefits over the next two decades by heading off premature deaths, emergency room visits, asthma attacks, school absences and lost workdays.

“Alongside historic investment taking place across America in clean energy manufacturing and deployment, these proposals will help deliver tremendous benefits to the American people — cutting climate pollution and other harmful pollutants, protecting people’s health, and driving American innovation,” EPA Administrator Michael Regan said in a statement issued Thursday.

By 2035, the Biden administration aims to shift all electricity in the U.S. to zero-emission sources including wind, solar, nuclear and hydropower, Roll Call reported. In a written statement, Manchin warned the administration’s “commitment to their extreme ideology overshadows their responsibility to ensure long-lasting energy and economic security.”

Manchin is up for reelection during the 2024 election cycle, but he has not yet announced whether he will run.

Last month, West Virginia Gov. Jim Justice (R) announced his campaign for Manchin’s seat. The Democrat-turned-Republican is among the most popular governors in the country and leads a state former President Donald Trump won by nearly 40 percentage points in 2020.

Manchin has hammered the Biden administration in recent weeks for its implementation of the Inflation Reduction Act, the president’s signature climate change bill that the Democratic senator was instrumental in shaping.

“Neither the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law nor the IRA gave new authority to regulate power plant emission standards. However, I fear that this Administration’s commitment to their extreme ideology overshadows their responsibility to ensure long-lasting energy and economic security and I will oppose all EPA nominees until they halt their government overreach,” Manchin said in his Wednesday statement.

What Manchin did not disclose in his statement, however, is that the EPA proposal would jeopardize one West Virginia coal facility that’s particularly lucrative for Manchin’s family business, Enersystems Inc., POLITICO reported. Enersystems delivers waste coal to the Grant Town power plant, which was reportedly already struggling financially, troubles that are expected to deepen with the strict new climate proposal.

Manchin personally received $537,000 from Enersystems last year, according to POLITICO’s analysis of personal financial disclosures filed with the U.S. Senate, and he has been paid more than $5 million by the company since he was first elected in 2010. His son, Joe Manchin IV, now runs Enersystems. The Senator’s campaign has also benefited from political contributions from Enersystems, OpenSecrets reported last year.

“This is going to make it harder for them to stay around. You won’t find written anywhere in the rule that this is supposed to be putting coal plants out of business, but just do the math,” Brian Murray, director of the Nicholas Institute for Energy, Environment & Sustainability at Duke University, told POLITICO.

In 2020, Manchin’s home state of West Virginia generated about 90% of its power from coal, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration. By contrast, less than 20% of the energy generated nationally comes from coal. Many states, including neighboring Virginia, are phasing out coal by replacing it with natural gas.

While the U.S. may show signs of moving away from coal, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission told the Senate Energy Committee earlier this month that the country was not prepared to abandon coal and maintain a reliable energy system.

“Coal is more dependable than gas and yes, we need to keep coal generation available for the foreseeable future,” said Commissioner Mark Christie.

Manchin took another swipe at the EPA on Thursday during an energy committee hearing on permitting reform, when he accused the agency of preventing the development of carbon capture technology by denying companies the permits they need to trap captured carbon underground.

“Don’t tell me that you’re going to invest in carbon capture sequestration when we can’t get a permit to basically sequester the carbon captured,” Manchin said. “This is the game that’s being played. I know it, they know I know it, and we’re not gonna let them get away with it.”

#us politics #news #opensecrets #Environmental Protection Agency #sen. joe manchin #west virginia #Senate Energy Committee #biden administration #president joe biden #2023 #clean energy #green energy #natural gas #coal #big coal #fossil fuels #fossil fuel industry #Michael Regan #roll call #Gov. Jim Justice #Inflation Reduction Act #infrastructure bill #infrastructure reform #Enersystems Inc. #politico #U.S. Energy Information Administration #Federal Energy Regulatory Commission

[vanoincidence]

Z for Zinnia! || Van & Thea

TIMING: april 18. LOCATION: the common. PARTIES: @notstinky & @vanoincidence SUMMARY: van runs into thea after buying zinnias (and leaving her message on read), which most definitely are not for her! CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

It was easier to pretend that her whole life hadn’t exploded upon impact rather than to let the feelings and thoughts about it fester. She wasn’t sure if going out was a great idea considering the cabin had acted as a safe haven, but she was beginning to grow stir crazy, and she wasn’t sure how many more card games she could play with Snickers (and lose) before she’d totally go off the rails. So against her better judgment, Van left the cabin and made her way into town. A couple of days after the situation, she had gone to pick up her car from Regan’s apartment, but not before inspecting it carefully for any tracking devices. It didn’t seem like the banshees were technologically advanced enough for something like that, luckily enough. 

Work was still off the table, and surprisingly enough, Rocky was kind about it in regards to both herself and Jade. Van still felt guilty, and her money was burning a hole through her pocket, but what she went on to do today was worth it, wasn’t it? 

She stared down at the carriage of flowers, a myriad of colors to create a rainbow. The greens and yellows stared up at her with the promise that these were the right ones. After purchasing a small bouquet, Van weighed it out in her hand suddenly feeling silly. Thea had left because she needed to, and Van was going to apologize (for nothing– okay, maybe the ghosting) with flowers? To a friend? The idea that Thea was just a friend was fleeting, and the heat that rose to her cheeks as she noticed that Thea was there across from her in the common now with somebody… else? 

Oh god, this wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening, actually! Because this only happened in stupid movies where the girl always got the guy, but Van didn’t care about getting the guy, and there was no guy in this equation, there was just the star seeker Thea with her smile and round head, and– 

“Thea! Um, hi– I– my house blew up. I’m sorry I’ve been like, MIA.” That was smooth, totally smooth. 

She didn’t smell like marinara; it was more like wood, sweat, and something tangential to Dr. Kavanagh though less dead-body overall. Thea could pick Van out of an ocean of people—her scent had a way of pricking her. She’d lived with her long enough—just a few months, but it was enough—to know Van like her own asterism (she’d liken her to The Summer Triangle but maybe that was just her fondness for those stars). Van was more like a galaxy, anyway; too far away and too great and there was no way Thea would ever get the chance to look at all of it. Van had left her on read, which in this climate, meant that she totally hated her. So, she smelled her first, down the length of the common. Her body reacted by sweating and her legs felt numb and her throat dry and her friend (it was one of those one-sided friendships) did not want to turn around. They kept walking and the scent drew closer and closer until the Van-shape (not like the car) on the horizon was right in front of her. With flowers! 

“Are those zinnias?” Thea asked first, completely glossing over the thing with the house. Gardening was more her dad’s hobby, but she still recognized a few things. “Oh, sorry, this is…” Thea gestured to her side, to her friend. The woman with waves of fire-red hair and grass-green eyes was older than them both by several years. Pollenina, Polly to her friends and Thea, was exactly Van’s height and when she looked at her, she was unimpressed. Then her gaze fell to the bouquet and she scoffed. “Sorry,” Thea apologized for her, “Polly thinks cutting flowers is murdering them. Which it is! Technically.” Polly scoffed again and moved on, but Thea stood there, nervously picking at the threads on her sleeve. 

She should move on; that was the sort of thing a person did when their friend kept walking and the friend who didn’t like them much was there and she had flowers but they couldn’t have been for Thea, because Van didn’t like her enough to read her messages so she couldn’t have liked her enough to get flowers. The sweet floral notes of the green and yellow zinnias lifted into the air; Thea’s nose twitched. Did Van have some other friend? Some other friend that she called cute? Some other friend that she would be buying flowers for? Some other friend that watched her gamble on her phone for anime girls? Some other friend that she was playing Halo with even though she said she would play it with Thea but no, of course that was a lie. “Sorry, your house? That’s…” Terrible, obviously. Something similar happened to hers and that was terrible too, but Thea couldn’t stop herself from smiling. God, the blown up house was probably code for ‘and I was hanging out with my cool other friends who aren’t sad and don’t make weird metaphors’. Or maybe: ‘I was playing Halo with my new best friend who isn’t you and never would be you’. 

Thea sniffled, she didn’t feel good; it must have been allergies. “…great,” she said, “it’s great about your house. I mean, terrible. I mean, what are the flowers for?” 

It didn’t seem like Thea’s company was keen on sticking around, because after her gaze bore into the bouquet that she held, she was walking off, leaving behind the real reason that Van had left the cabin to begin with. “I guess.. I mean, it is, yeah.” She suddenly felt bad for buying the bouquet to begin with. Maybe she should’ve gotten Thea an actual plant. Then again, she wasn’t trying to impress Polly, and Polly didn’t matter. At all. Thea mattered here, and she thought that Thea liked flowers. Did she? Van hoped she did. 

Specifically, Van hoped that Thea liked the flowers she got her. Did Polly get her other things? Things that weren’t dead, or reminded her of the way that people just took and took? Van didn’t want to take things from the world for Thea, but she’d capture the stars for her in an instant if asked. It wasn’t possible, she knew, and so she would need to get the glow in the dark stars, maybe the pink ones, or green. 

“Um.. yeah, it was…” Now was probably not the time to tell Thea that there were banshees after them, or maybe it was. Maybe secrets weren’t good anymore, and maybe she was cruel for wanting to keep this one from Thea considering the banshee in Regan’s apartment had mentioned Thea, too. But Thea was safe now that she was no longer staying with Van, right? There was a disconnect there, and Van hoped that it would keep Thea safe. “Out of nowhere, I guess.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie. Van hadn’t anticipated that her house would be blown up, either thanks to the monster she dragged from the depths of the earth, or the banshees’ screams. 

Van’s brows furrowed as Thea seemingly stumbled over her words. “Great…?” Maybe it was great. Maybe Thea knew that deep down, Van had wanted to get rid of that house for as long as her grandmother had left back to New York. Maybe Thea could tell that every time Van spoke about her house, there was a thick layer of contempt in her voice. Maybe Thea could see things that Van couldn’t. Then again, maybe Thea had just said the wrong thing. 

“The… flowers?” She looked down at the green and yellow bouquet, realizing it suddenly felt heavier than before. Like it might exhaust every muscle in her hand to keep it upright. Would Thea even want them now that she was out with somebody else? Van shrugged, “I… just thought they were nice, you know? Um, got myself flowers because my house got blown up and stuff. A consolation… or whatever.” That would make sense, right? She could skate by on that lie, because obviously Thea didn’t want her stupid flowers. She was here with the pretty redhead and Van was here alone buying flowers for… well, the girl with stars in her eyes. “Do you um… want to smell them?” 

Relief sparked through Thea; the flowers were just for Van. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Clearly, a lot of things were wrong with her, but in this particular instance, she didn’t know what was wrong with her. Van was a friend, Van should be allowed to have other friends. Shouldn’t she have been happy that Van had other friends? Instead, she was happy in some strange, giggly way, like she’d just had one glass of wine, but emotion felt distinctly artificial. It had to be; Thea was rarely happy at all. But she had been—the place her mind went now when it chased the emotion were the innocuous moments with Van: the anime girls, the half-asleep conversations, the ease she felt in following Van’s wild trains of thought just as Van followed hers. “Right. The house. I heard a house got…” Thea choked on her words; the flowers were oddly pungent. She cleared her throat. “I heard about something like that. I was worried but I didn’t think…I thought if it was something like that…” Van would have told her. Was it her fault for not checking in first? Thea made it all the way to Sly Slice before the marinara overwhelmed her and the only thing she could really do was try to accept the fact that Van wasn’t all that interested in her. 

“Smell them?” Thea pushed up on her toes, trying to look over Van. Polly was gone, so far down The Common that Thea knew she’d never catch up. She frowned; Polly was her ride. Was she just going to walk back to Winter’s? Thea sighed. “Sorry, the flowers?” She finally turned her attention back on to them. “They are really pretty.” But she didn’t need to lean in to smell them. Her gaze darted between Van and the flowers and a fist curled in her stomach, punching up her throat; she swallowed uselessly over the lump. She pulled her hat from her head and held it tightly. Her hair was growing in nicely though she thought she looked like a fuzzy peach. Habitually, she tucked away a strand of hair that didn’t exist and leaned in. The flowers were awfully close to Van’s face, she thought—soft, pink features, full moon eyes and ocean wave lips. She was awfully close to Van’s face. Thea closed her eyes and took in a nose-full of green and yellow zinnias. 

Up close, Thea realized the zinnias themselves smelt like nothing much, instead, the smell was overwhelmingly of cut grass; the floral notes she’d picked up seemed to come from around the flowers: the paper they were wrapped in and clinging to Van’s clothes. How long had Van spent looking at flowers? If they were just for her, would she have cared so much? Those flowers had smelled so strong just a moment ago when her attention was on Van. Did it matter? She was so happy Van was here! And that Van was okay! Even if she was a liar who totally had a new, cute friend that she was going to see. Thea pulled her head out of the flowers, opening her eyes slowly. “These aren’t actually for you, are they?” she asked, her voice hard as the lump crushed into her throat. Then, as though she hadn’t been so serious seconds ago, she broke into a wide smile. “You were staying with someone else while your house was blown up, right? Are these for them? That’s so…” Thea swallowed, perking up. “…great! Who were you with when your house blew up? It’s so wonderful that you’re getting them flowers! The sun’s so nice today. It would be such a beautiful day to walk with someone cute! Like, oh, I don’t know…a new friend.” Was Van going to meet them? Van was totally going to meet them. Who was it? Did Thea know them? Why didn’t Van tell her that she’d been replaced? 

Was Thea disappointed that she hadn’t told her what happened? Van had a lot going on, between the almost getting murdered and the fact that her childhood home had blown up while she and Jade rode the motorcycle away like some kind of low budget spy flick. However, was that any excuse to leave her (totally cute) friend on read? She wasn’t sure. Van had read Thea’s last message over and over again, committing the fact that Thea never wanted to be called anything but Thea to memory— though, the reasoning made Van’s stomach churn. She wanted Thea to be Cynthia again if she wanted, but knew it was harder to accept the fact that things had changed if she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Van wanted Thea to love Maine because Van loved Maine, and Van wanted Thea to love the things she loved, in her own way. It was selfish, for sure, and maybe love was too strong a word, but as she looked at Thea standing in front of her, all Van could feel was relief that she hadn’t been in the apartment that night; that Thea hadn’t been in any kind of danger, as it didn’t seem like the twins had tried to seek her out after the fact. 

“I was going to tell you, but then… the news article released.” In Van’s defense, she hadn’t told anyone before the article released. Well, besides those in Ireland. She felt like they needed to know, because obviously this was all connected, especially if the twins had named Regan specifically. But Thea didn’t need to know all of that— she could be kept out of harm’s way if Van didn’t breathe a word of it, right? Still, it felt wrong to keep it from her. Thea deserved to know the truth just as Nora or Wynne did. Cass was an outlier here, too focused on keeping her at arm’s length; something that Van still hadn’t forgiven her for. Maybe that was selfish, too. Maybe Van was just incredibly selfish, but as she looked at Thea, she wanted to grow out of that. She wanted to share these things with her. 

“Smell them,” Van echoed, pushing the flowers forward. They could’ve been prettier, Van thought. She could’ve gotten something better, but now that Thea had caught her in the act (while on somebody’s arm who, in Van’s opinion seemed totally jealous in the way she sauntered away), it felt like these were the right kinds of flowers to get. Van waited for Thea to move in, and when she did, she realized that it was like, really close. She could see the light dusting of freckles that ran themselves over Thea’s nose— could see the depth to her irises. Had her eyes always been so pretty? Van was pretty sure they always had looked like that, but this close it felt different. She nearly said something about them— nearly told Thea that she had beautiful eyes, but she was closing them and Van was left to stare at her (totally cute) friend as she smelled the flowers that were totally not for her. Van wanted them to be, though. She wanted to find the courage to tell Thea that these had been purchased because she felt bad, and because she wanted to give Thea something nice because it’d been fairly obvious she was stressed about things, right? That was what was going on? 

Van waited a moment, mouth forming the words, but they were taken from her the moment Thea’s eyes snapped open and her accusations poured between them. “What?” Had Thea pinpointed that they’d been for her? Was Thea about to make fun of her for not being honest? 

No, that wasn’t what was happening. Thea thought they were for somebody else. For… Jade? Right, Thea didn’t know that it’d been Jade who she’d been with. “Um— at Regan’s apartment,  and then we went to my house.” 

Thea was acting weird, and Van wasn’t sure why. She’d never seen her like this. She seemed insistent that Van was spending her time elsewhere, when in reality, all Van wanted to do was spend her time with the girl ahead of her. “What? No! I was with Jade, and she’s like, pretty much my sister at this point, but I’m not sure if that’s true because I’m an only child so I don’t even know what having a sister feels like, but I think that’s what it feels like, being friends with Jade.” The words came out in a slur as she pulled the flowers back. She wanted so badly to close some distance, to take Thea’s hand and put the bouquet into them, to insist that these were for her, because they were. Van wanted to be honest— wanted to be true to herself and her feelings she wasn’t sure she was allowed to have. Because what if what happened to Diana happened to Thea? What if Van wasn’t strong enough to endure another heartbreak and it all fell apart because she couldn’t control the magic? 

“They were for you,” Van snapped, after a moment, overwhelmed by the feeling that she was being misinterpreted. “I got them for you. I felt bad for like, leaving you on read, but there were things happening, and I wanted to get you something nice, but you’re here with—“ She looked in the direction Polly had taken off in, but Van couldn’t even see her anymore. “They were for you.” She tightened her grip around the paper, the sound of it crinkling and snapping the delicate stems making her feel even more guilty about what was transpiring. “They are for you.” Heat rose to the back of her neck as she looked away from Thea. “My house blew up, and all I wanted to do was get you flowers. How stupid does that make me?” 

It all came back to Jade. Thea knew there was something fishy about her. Jade (the gem) was beautiful and Jade (the person) was also kinda pretty but deep inside there clearly lurked an ugliness. The kind of ugliness that would usurp Thea’s spot as Van’s…friend. Her very normal friend. Jade, the friend usurper, was close enough with Van to be a sister. And where did that leave Thea? As not a sister—which did fill her with peculiar relief, she didn’t want to be Van’s sister. Sisters couldn’t…hold hands! Which was exactly what Thea had been thinking about and absolutely nothing else, nevermind her rather intense gaze localized exclusively on Van’s lips; she was a mouth reader! But despite the assurance that she could still…hold Van’s hand…she couldn’t excuse Jade completely. Thea never considered herself to be a possessive person, she liked when things were hers as much as the next anxiety-ridden human being, but she had never felt a longing desire to be the only thing that mattered to someone. Not like she did now. If only she could be sure that Van’s eyes were for her only, in a normal platonic way. She wanted Van to see her, beyond her skin and bones and inside to her spinning black hole heart—but, like, in the normal way that regular friends would look into each other’s souls. Somehow, this was all Jade’s fault; maybe it was because Jade had hair and she was bald. 

Her thoughts were tangled like the overlapping braids of a cable. For as long as Thea had any awareness of herself, her mind had always been that way: one thing knotted into the next, tied to something else, bent at all the wrong angles, shot into space and gaining a mass big enough to have its own gravitational spin. If she’d been someone else, she might have asked herself what she was so jealous of. If she had ever learned how to untie one thread from the next, she would’ve realized that Van and her were talking around the same thing. Unfortunately, she was only Thea, the girl who had been a coward for much of her life and couldn’t change now. She’d told Van that she wanted to be done with pretending things were normal and okay and done with inventing new realities to soothe herself, but she wasn’t. Quietly, in the darkest place of her skull, she knew she’d never be done with that. It was always easier to run away. It was always easier to pull a new thread instead of detangling the one she had. This one said that all she was feeling were completely normal and rational platonic feelings for her cute friend Van and Thea held it tight and knew that anything else would terrify her. She was happy pretending like no other thoughts existed. 

And so, it was like that that Jade really did seem like some gargantuan threat to their friendship, as if Van couldn’t have more than one friend. Despite Thea’s smile, her eye twitched. She’d have to eat Jade for this. She needed the friendship competition to be as thin as possible because she didn’t offer much. And then Van said they were for her; Thea almost missed it. With the blood rushing to her face and her heart pounding in her ears, she almost missed it. “What?” Thea’s shoulders slackened; the fog that had settled over her yarn-ball thoughts cleared out like a blown out candle. “What?” Asking again didn’t clear anything up. She blinked rapidly. Her breath turned heavy. She was happy in that way that made her sick to her stomach, in that way she felt when she watched Van get excited when her gambling on anime girls paid off (paid off in the sense that she finally got the anime girl she wanted, not that Van was actually getting any value back). Or when she smelled marinara coming from under the door and knew Van would be walking through any minute now. It was the kind of happiness she didn’t know what to do with; the running in circles, rolling in the grass kind. 

“I..” Thea trailed off. “Not..” She swallowed. “Not stupid at all.” And she’d been the one being so weird that Van couldn’t even look at her. And she’d been the one so worried about Jade usurping her slot on Van’s friendship roster that she hadn’t bothered to comfort her friend at all after the loss of her house. Which she knew, more than anyone else, really fucking sucked. “Hey.” Thea slipped her hat back on her head and moved her hands over Van’s, trying to relax her tight grip. “Thank you. Really, thank you. You’re so…” Sweet? Nice? Kind? Cool? Amazing? Cute? Pretty? “So…much…a good friend.” She wasn’t even sure that made grammatical sense. Thea moved closer, closing her eyes and she leaned in and pressed her lips to Van’s temple, in what she was sure was a very platonic gesture, despite how she lingered. When she finally pulled back, she grinned brilliantly again. “I can’t believe you didn’t get purple flowers, for anime-girl-Grimace.”

It seemed like Thea’s mind was working against something, and suddenly Van wished she’d been born with mind reading abilities. Then again, she would then have to hear all of the terrible things people definitely thought of her, and how would that make living life? Not well, really. So after a moment about fantasizing about being able to figure out exactly what Thea was thinking, Van was glad that she couldn’t. What if Thea thought she was stupid for getting her the flowers? The mind panned to the redhead and her long, flowing hair. Van was almost positive that if Thea had hair, she’d want Polly’s and not hers. Van didn’t really want to give up her hair, but she’d definitely be offended if Thea took Polly’s hair over hers. 

But something shifted, and it was like everything fell into place. The stupidity that she felt melted away (the ground was stable beneath her for once, so this was just a feeling and not an action— wow!) 

Van watched from the corner of her eye as surprise dotted the edges of Thea’s features, watched as her earlier snarl had dissipated, replaced by something kinder. Something that stirred the butterflies in the pit of her own stomach. Her skin was vibrating as Thea seemingly heard what Van had said. It was all out in the open now, and there was no taking it back. If she pretended, if she acted like it was a joke, then what good would that do? It’d do nothing, and they’d be back where they were moments ago. She shouldn’t have been here, begging for Thea to take the flowers she had purchased. She should’ve been talking to the bank about her house, or calling her grandmother (who definitely wouldn’t pick up), or something that mattered in the moment, but all Van wanted to do was be with and near Thea. To give her something after so much had been taken from the both of them. 

She had thought about how being in public after being hunted by the banshees could’ve been considered dangerous, but Jade wasn’t confined to the cabin, so she refused to be. Van stood across from Thea, gaze moving slowly over the other girl’s hand as it came to close over top of hers. The tension she’d been holding in both her shoulders and jaw relaxed as soon as the pads of Thea’s fingers smoothed over the back of her hand. Van loosened the grip on the bouquet, not enough to let them fall to the ground, but to keep from crushing them any further. The embarrassment she felt morphed into something else— or maybe it was still embarrassment, just a different flavor. This one felt like kicking sand on a playground during the send off from a swing set and not making the landing on your feet. It was better than the embarrassment of the black hole sucking her to the depths of the earth, that was for sure. 

Thea moved closer before Van could process it. The feeling of the other girl’s lips at her temple sent static cascading over her skin. The hair at the back of her neck stood on end in anticipation for what might come next, but it was nothing— so much a good friend. It made perfect sense. Van could decipher it. That was Thea telling her she was a good friend, and that was what she was. Was Polly looking at them now? Would Polly yell at Thea after this? Tell her that she was giving Van too much hope? Hope for what, though? Van couldn’t rationalize what she wanted from Thea, just that she wanted the bald girl who talked about stars and constellations to take her stupid flowers and look at her like she was worth something. But that’s what was happening, right? 

Disappointment colored Van’s features as soon as Thea moved away, only to be replaced by minor annoyance. “You know why I didn’t. It’s because of that.” She pointed at Thea with her free hand, swallowing down the embarrassment as it rose in her again (black hole style). Her heart hadn’t quite calmed down, and Van was almost positive that she could still feel Thea’s lips at her temple; could commit it to memory. Wanted to, even. She desperately clung to the feeling and the thoughts it brought with it, warding off the black hole embarrassment and vying for the kind that would make her squeal into her pillow later. 

It took her a moment to realize she hadn’t said much else, and Van was left to clear her throat, tucking her hair behind her ears that burned bright red. “So do you um, do you— want them? Or…” She looked down at the flowers that had lost their weight— all of the weight from the situation had gone to her head, causing the right side of her face to grow numb. It was like her skin was trying to absorb what had happened. “If you don’t, I—“ Would Polly make her throw them out? “Who’s Polly? Is she…” Van looked past Thea to where Polly had disappeared to. “Is she waiting for you?” Couldn’t I be waiting for you instead, Van didn’t finish, holding the words like a capsizing boat at the back of her tongue. 

Something strange happened then: Thea didn’t want to stop touching Van. Though she should have moved her hands away, she kept them on Van’s. And though she’d just touched her lips to Van’s head—she wasn’t going to use the k-word, it was too heavy—she wanted to do it again. She felt like she’d just crawled out of a blanket on a cold night, every muscle told her to go back in. She couldn’t lip-touch her forehead again—don’t say it, don’t say it—so she lined up an array of other gestures that were almost it, almost the thing she was thinking about. Thea nudged Van’s bicep with her elbow—don’t let go of her hands, you won’t be able to take them again. “Teasing is my love-language, Van. You should know that by now,” Thea said, coating her words with the lightness she felt in her chest. Then that word—the L one—sunk down into her throat and tightened like a hungry snake. Love-languages were bullshit anyway, and whatever, so what? She didn’t mean anything by it. But it also wasn’t entirely true; teasing had been Cynthia’s love language. 

Cynthia was the one that teased her friends, because expressions of affection felt wrong on her tongue and she was always too awkward to make them work anyway. It was that bite no one expected from her; the thumbs thrust into an orange, juice spilling out. Peel back the skin and there’s the girl who liked a good joke when she wasn’t worried about being annoying, who could demonstrate how well she knew someone by their mundanities—pithy and fleshy. Thea didn’t have a love language; that would have implied she was deserving of the big L thing. Maybe Cynthia would’ve had something else to say, but Thea didn’t. And whatever, she really didn’t mean anything by it; it was another dumb thing in the galaxy of dumb things Thea said. Pay no attention to the dumb words behind the curtain, or something. Forget the tangled web of Cynthia that sat inside Thea’s writhing one. Though Van had already done it, Thea reached out and tucked phantom hair bachind Van’s burning red ears. Spring allergies were a real menace! They certainly made Van blush a lot. Her hands returned to their place on top of Van’s. 

“Polly?” The mention of the red-head jerked Thea; she glanced over Van’s head. No, Polly was well and truly gone. She knew it was generous to say she was Polly’s friend, and in the interest of being honest, she couldn’t tell Van that she was. “Polly’s a…” But it was kinda embarrassing to say that Polly definitely hated her, and tolerated her for some unknown reasons. She regularly said things like ‘I’m going to turn you into plant food’ and ‘humans are temporary, plants will be forever’ and ‘to be clear when I say I’m going to turn you into plant food I mean I’m going to kill you’ in that quirky, Polly way of hers; Thea didn’t exactly get her sense of humor. “Just someone I know.” She shrugged. “We, uh, hang out sometimes. Y’know, do…things.” But she also couldn’t tell Van that Polly mostly just drove her around, because then Van would offer her car and sweat trickled down her back at the idea of being in a tight space with Van. “A-adult things.” What she meant was that she did Polly’s taxes and laundry and helped her pay bills, as though these were all things that were completely new to her, but in the interest of honest dishonesty, Thea didn’t consider what it sounded like.  

“I do want the flowers,” Thea said. But if she took them, then she’d have no reason to keep holding Van’s hands—don’t let go. So despite saying she wanted them, she kept them in Van’s hands. “She’s not waiting for…” But if she said that, what would they do? Would Van stay with her? Could they take the day and turn it into something good? Or could she, for once in her stupid life, be actually responsible? She’d had a reason for thinking moving out of the apartment was a good idea and it wasn’t so she could be selfish now. She’d been given a very reasonable escape; yes, Polly was waiting for her—say it, say it. The tiny black hole inside of her, always spinning, was getting hungry. One year since the bite and she knew well enough what happened once it grew. All she had to do was say it and shouldn’t it have been so easy? A coward was her default classification. But she was happy, and it was hard to turn away from something so rare. 

Releasing one hand from its place on Van’s, Thea brought it to Van’s face again. This time, she rested her palm against Van’s warm cheek. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed down a different conversation. “She is,” she said, “and she’s not very patient.” That part, at least, was true. “So, I should probably…” Thea dropped her hand from Van’s face and scooped the flowers into her arms. “It was nice seeing you and I’m so glad that you’re okay and…” Her throat bobbed again. She lifted the zinnias up. “Thank you for these, and thank you for…” How many times was she going to shove different words away? “I think I like it more like this,” she said, “flowers and wood and honey and amber—when you come back from a shift, the marinara is overpowering. I think I like it more when it’s mostly Van. When it’s all Van.” She held the flowers tighter to her chest. “I think I like Van. I think I like Van a lot.” She swallowed. “The smell, I mean.”

What did that really mean, though? What did a love language mean when it came from Thea? Van stared at her, not quite sure what to say back. She wanted to say something. Knew she should say something, but no words came out of her mouth. Maybe she should have teased Thea back, should’ve told her it was hers, too, and this was all a big joke. The cherry on top would’ve been the flowers that both her’s and Thea’s hands were closed around. Why wasn’t Thea letting go? Maybe she felt guilty about being upset by the idea that they’d been for somebody else, and maybe Thea just felt bad that her house blew up. Van wasn’t sure why Thea wasn’t letting go, but she really didn’t want her to. She wanted to feel Thea’s hand on hers, didn’t want her to let go, but knew that she should– knew that she would, because Thea had finally understood her as a person and decided to leave. That was what happened, right? It had been her? It had to have been. “Okay,” Van stammered out, the words slipping like oil over her tongue. It wasn’t what she had wanted to say at all, but it was all that’d come out when in a reflection to Thea’s love language. Maybe it wasn’t that serious, and maybe Van was thinking too much into it. 

Thea touched her again in a way that mattered, and Van felt the blush deepen, could feel it scatter over the bridge of her nose. Her breath got stuck in her throat, and it wasn’t until she looked away from Thea’s eyes could she remember how to do so. Why was she acting like this? Thea was just a cute friend who paid attention to her and nothing more. There was nothing here, not in the way she wanted. However, Van wasn’t certain that she deserved to want to feel anything, especially within proximity of Thea. The last time she had cared for somebody like this (which she wasn’t even sure was real!), an argument had drawn that person to the depths of whatever hellish creature she had reimagined. Would the same happen to Thea? God, she was so toxic; pulling up demons to take care of her problems for her. She really needed to learn how to control it. Not just for Thea, but for everyone who might succumb to the power she held within. The last thing she wanted to do was open up another portal on people who didn’t deserve it. 

Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? Polly? 

Van took care to listen now, to pick apart the cadence of Thea’s voice as she spoke about the redhead who hadn’t cast a second glance back after leaving the two of them to argue over the (unjustly) murdered flowers. Van still felt bad about that— that she had killed something (again), even if she hadn’t pulled them from the ground herself. She’d be more mindful about flowers from now on, that was for sure. As soon as Thea began to explain who Polly was to her, the wires crossed themselves, tangling into an unrecognizable, festering snake. Y’know, do things. What did that mean? Did Polly play Honkai, too? Did Thea watch over Polly’s shoulder as she tried for her favorite characters that came back into rotation? Would Thea cheer her on, too? Adult things? Van’s mind could’ve gone to something slightly less safe for work, but it sprang over to the idea that they got meals together; cooked together— even cleaned the apartment while blasting Olivia Rodrigo together. Was this who Thea was staying with? Had she been so easily replaced? Of course she had been. Her grandmother probably found some new grandchild, too, that she hadn’t even known about. One who didn’t cry and didn’t have magic and didn’t talk back. Of course Thea would do the same. Of course. 

She hadn’t realized it, but she was holding her breath again. “Oh, she sounds… nice.” That was the opposite of what she wanted to say. Horrible, she sounds horrible. But Van didn’t want to be mean, didn’t want to be the jealous— jealous, what? They were just friends. Good friends! Cute friends! She definitely didn’t feel anything for Thea. No way! This was all just a weird friendly misunderstanding, interwoven with jealousy and… something else. Embarrassment, most definitely. “I’m glad you get to um, do adult things together.” She thought of Olivia Rodrigo blasting through Regan’s apartment as she knelt down with the dustpan as Thea navigated the broken bottle of vanilla into it. She bit the inside of her cheek, pushing the thoughts away. What did they clean up together? Polly looked like the kind of girl who liked kale shakes. It was probably that. Did Thea hate that? Or did she like it? Maybe Van should drink kale shakes. 

Her mind snapped from the make believe kitchen to Thea who was speaking again. She needed to talk more, too, didn’t she? God, Thea must’ve been so bored standing in front of her. She was probably thinking of all the conversations she could be having with Polly right now, and instead she was stuck here. 

Suddenly, the flowers held a  weight of their own and Van felt her hand sinking slightly, Thea’s still enclosed around it. She’d help support it, wouldn’t she? Even if the embarrassment engrained itself in her muscles and made her incapable of doing these kinds of things— like holding up a bouquet of flowers for the pretty girl with the pretty smile and the peach fuzz hair. Did Thea know she looked good bald? Van wanted to tell her. “You can take them, I already um— I already said that they are yours.” The words came out naturally, surprisingly enough. They didn’t slur together, mixed messages splintered across each single vowel. Instead, it was what she actually meant! She wanted Thea to have the flowers! God, she was so good at this talking thing. 

Thea’s hand came to plant itself against her cheek, and Van’s mind scrambled again. Could Thea feel the heat that was radiating off of the side of her face? Would Thea think that she was sick? Would Thea try and take care of her? Thea couldn’t come to the cabin, no way— it was full of weapons, and Snickers, and Jade was still hurt. I’m not sick, by the way. The words didn’t manage to slip from between her lips, because Thea was talking again, and the way she spoke made it seem like Thea was going to leave her. That was okay! Friends left each other all of the time, didn’t they? Cass had left her, too, standing outside of her cave with an arm full of comics. Well, she hadn’t left her, but it felt like it that day. 

Van was almost positive that even after Thea had dropped her hand, she’d still be able to memorize the way she pressed each pad of her finger into her skin. She’d try to recreate it with her own hand once she was home, but her hands were much smaller and stubbier than Thea’s and she knew it wouldn’t feel the same. But that’d be weird to do, anyway, because they were friends, and friends didn’t do that kind of stuff. But, at least Thea took the flowers. Thea took the flowers, and Van watched her do it— and in that moment, she realized she looked a lot more beautiful with them than she had imagined she would. Would Polly make her throw them out? Probably. But at least Thea had taken them! That was a win for her, wasn’t it? Her friend had taken her flowers, even after the misunderstanding. Only her flowers, and nothing else! Not her heart along with it! 

“Yeah, you should totally go and catch up with her.” Van’s throat felt scratchy and she tried to get the words out in a way that wouldn’t allude to the jealousy or embarrassment she felt. The flowers were gone from her hands, though, and the feeling was dimming down. Maybe because Thea had finally taken them, and that was a signal to something. “You’re totally welcome!” She was saying totally too much, but it was sort of her catchphrase at this point, wasn’t it? “I’m glad I’m— you’re okay, too.” She smiled, and this time it felt real— less like she was being pulled at by a fishing hook, but that the muscles in her own face had cooperated into giving her something real. Thea kept speaking even though she should’ve been leaving, and Van was left frozen with what the words could’ve actually meant. Surely she meant the smell! Yeah, that made more sense. Thea liked to smell things— always talked about it! Liked to talk about all of the soaps she had, and Van could always see the soaps she had in the bathroom at Regan’s.

(She was always careful not to use Thea’s soaps, because she wanted to smell Thea when Thea was using them, not—) 

“Yeah, I mean, they like, most definitely make um, car air fresheners in Van scent, I’m almost positive of it.” At that moment, she had referred to herself like the car, but it didn’t matter. Thea told her she smelled good, and she liked it better without the marinara, and Van was glad. Van was happy! She stood across from Thea, marionette strings pulling her to put a hand on Thea’s shoulders. “I hope you enjoy Polly, and the flowers!” That wasn’t what she meant. She only wanted Thea to enjoy the flowers. 

“But um, I’ve gotta— there are insurance people I gotta talk to. Gotta get my bag, you know? So I’ll uh, see you around, Thea!” With that, Van turned around, red in the face to saunter off to anywhere but the insurance people. 

#para: z for zinnia! #para: thea #wickedswriting

[honeysmokedham]

Icarus || Solo

TIMING: The Day of the Trial LOCATION: Saol Eile, the waterfall PARTIES: Declan and Nora SUMMARY: Nora burns Declan's body WARNINGS: Suicidal Ideation tw

Icarus flew too close to the sun. That’s the only thing people know about Icarus. The only fact that matters when it comes to discussing him. In an incredible display of hubris, he flew too close to the sun and it killed him. His hubris. His decision. His death. Nora now knew the truth. It wasn’t hubris that killed Icarus. It was elation. Icarus spent his life locked away. It was never for anything he’d done, but to control his father. Icarus’s crime was to be the son of the smart and talented Daedalus. There was never any choice for him. There was never a moment in his life where he chose to do the wrong thing and end up locked up. There was no reason for him to exist until the day Daedalus slid a pair of wings onto his back and told him he was finally free. 

Icarus saw the sun for the first time. She kissed his skin. She whispered endless possibilities to him. She told him, you can be whoever you want to be now, you’re free. Icarus never knew that happiness before. That level of freedom. How could he practice self-control, when his self was always controlled by someone else? He saw the sun and her beauty, and he was too happy, too excited, too ready to cup the sun in both his hands and kiss her back to say thank you, I’m free.

Nora was Icarus, or was Icarus Nora? And they are falling out of the sky together, leaving a trail of smoke. The ocean grabbed them and ate them alive. The waves chomping against their bodies, Icarus was the lucky one. He got to die. Nora had to live. Standing in the spot they’d shared the best moment of her life, and everything had shifted. Declan was dead. Nora was alive. Her hand gripped on the wheelchair with his slumped body. 

One foot after another. The physical labor kept the shadow at bay. It lounged under Declan’s chair as it watched Nora collect the wood. Sweat and grime coated Nora by the time she’d set up something suitable. Something worthy of Declan. This was her last gift to him. Everything had to be perfect. She laid him on the pyre with all the love and reverence the world had to give. The banshees would not mourn him here, but the waterfall would. It cried around them, maybe the waterfall had always known what would happen at its shore, and was crying the whole time. 

Icarus’s burnt wings set the pyre alight. 

The flame overtook Declan, much the way their love had blossomed. It burned slowly, smoldering under an unsure surface. It took a moment to establish itself, and when it did, it blazed. It flared to life in a beautiful and bright moment that overtook Declan, consuming every inch of him. Nora had held Declan until the moment the flames had gotten too bright, too hot, too much to keep holding. It was Regan’s words in her head that made her let go. She had to live to mourn him, or no one else would. She had to keep her promise to free him, or she’d make this her final resting spot so they could share forever together. 

She let him go with a kiss, leaving with him the Nora she’d been when she’d gotten to Ireland. That Nora died with Declan. She was forever changed. Her canvas would always be stained in the smoke of his pyre. Her picture would always depict the decapitated flowers of their love. Her heart would always be broken and mourning for what was lost.

Through the flickering flame, the rising smoke, and the drifting ash Nora could see the faces of all her failures. Everyone who had been burned by the sun while she flew too close to her beauty. The nameless hunter whose head had rolled across the ground. Debbie, her knife sticking through her skull. The tour group consumed by rock. Everyone she couldn’t save. Everyone she’d killed. They stood there, watching Declan’s body get eaten and turned to ash. They stood there until the pyre burned itself out. They stood there as Nora collected the ash, burning her hands on them as she painstakingly collected them. They judged as she cried. 

Nora left the wheelchair next to the waterfall. She found her phone in a pool of dried blood. She made her way back to Cliodhna’s house. A collection of kneecaps broke under her fingers, but she didn’t feel a thing about it. She packed her bag. She moved Elias upstairs in the clinic, and stored him with her stuff. She stripped and turned into a bear. She headed to a trail. She did it all on autopilot, clinging to the words “You have to live to mourn.”

#solo #icarus