Fandom: Leverage, Leverage: Redemption
Compilation: Moments in the Life of Leverage Fam
Characters: Astrid Pickford, Parker, Todd McSweeten, Peggy Milbank, Maggie Collins
A/N: On the surface, this ficlet is about Astrid interacting with characters from the original series. In reality, I just think it's fun to write scenes where Parker makes Astrid scream internally.
Astrid carefully adjusts the case file on her desk. Her video call with Director McSweeten is about to start, and she likes having all the relevant materials prepared, so the meeting can run as efficiently as possible. Punctuality is sometimes a luxury, not a given, in their line of work, so she's pleased when Director McSweeten’s secretary starts the meeting right on time.
"We have a special treat today," Director McSweeten tells Astrid after they exchange pleasantries. He sounds truly excited. "Special Agent Hagen will be joining us in a little bit."
As the FBI Director of Counterterrorism, McSweeten makes for a curious figure. He's certainly competent at his job, but at times, he seems a bumbling sort of fellow. Then there's Special Agent Hagen, who Astrid has never met but whose work speaks for itself. McSweeten isn't shy about giving credit where he believes it's due.
"I've tried to put Special Agent Hagen up for so many promotions, but we just can't get her out of the field," McSweeten had told Astrid once. He had sounded quite enamored with her. He still sounds enamored with her.
He and Astrid go over the case at hand, making sure they're on the same page before Special Agent Hagen joins them with updates. Then there she is, popping up on the screen.
She. Special Agent Hagen. Who is apparently Parker.
"Hello, Inspector Pickford," Parker says, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Frustration clenches Astrid’s jaw shut, teeth grinding together. “You have got to be kidding me,” she mentally screams into the void only because she cannot say it out loud. First, she refuses to give Parker the satisfaction of an overt reaction. Second, Astrid doesn’t know if Director McSweeten knows—she doubts he does—and in spite of everything, she cannot expose Parker if he doesn’t.
Well, Astrid could. She should. Impersonating a federal agent is a crime. But then Astrid thinks of all the cases she's closed using FBI intelligence collected by Special Agent Hagen and all the cases the FBI has handled besides. If she says anything now, all those cases would have to be reopened. Some of those convictions would be overturned.
"As Parker likes to say, we're the good bad guys," Sophie had explained of the Leverage crew's work.
In the end, the right people had ended up in prison. That's what matters, Astrid tells herself. Not the fact that she feels she's been bested by Parker. Not the fact that Astrid is now being made into an accomplice. Not the fact that Astrid would like to scream.
"Special Agent Hagen," Astrid replies flatly. She absolutely will not play along and say that she's pleased to meet her.
Director McSweeten doesn't notice any of this. "I'm so excited you two finally have the opportunity to work together," he says.
Well, that makes one of them.
…
The next time Astrid is in New Orleans, her visit coincides with one from Parker's friend Peggy Milbank.
Apparently Peggy had met Parker, who she knows as Alice White, when they were doing jury duty in Los Angeles. Astrid has a very hard time imagining Parker doing anything as mundane as a jury duty, even in the midst of a con. It therefore comes as no surprise when she learns that, despite their longstanding friendship, Parker still doesn't feel comfortable with a girls day out.
Astrid admittedly has not attended a similar social event in years. She has successfully avoided luncheons where society women (aka her family) prattle on about the latest gossip. She has no time for such frivolous things. Except now apparently. Parker enlists Sophie's help, which means Astrid is pulled in as well.
"Oh, and by the way, Peggy thinks Sophie's name is Marge," Parker says as one last aside before they enter the cafe for brunch.
Astrid looks at Sophie with bewilderment.
"Not my choice," Sophie says with a heavy emphasis on "not."
The trio join Peggy outside in the courtyard behind the building. The combined ambience of cafe's music and the city around them gives each table a semblance of privacy. They don't need it. Peggy is so normal, her life so mundane. Astrid cannot imagine what many years of friendship between her and Parker would look like.
Since Peggy and Astrid have never met before, much of the conversation centers around acquainting them with each other. Astrid had been trained in the art of small talk since the day she was born, but she had left that all behind when she chose her career path. She relies heavily on it now, asking about Peggy's job as a chef and nutritionist and providing some minimal information about herself.
But then Peggy starts on her cats.
There are so many cats, seven of them.
Peggy regales them with stories about each cat: their origins, their temperaments, and their favorite activities. Astrid's considerable repertoire of original responses dwindles as they're shown picture after picture after picture.
Then Parker and Sophie's phones buzz.
"It's work," Sophie says apologetically as she and Parker begin gathering their things.
Astrid grabs Sophie's arm with a speed that surprises even her. "Do you need help?"
She has met Peggy less than an hour ago, but she doesn't know if she can spend another minute hearing about her cats. She would almost rather commit crimes than be left here alone with Peggy.
Sophie gives her a subtly sympathetic smile. "I think we'll be all right, but thank you, darling."
Peggy doesn't seem at all surprised or disappointed by Parker's quick exit. She leans towards Astrid and whispers conspiratorially, "Since you're an Interpol agent, I'm guessing you know the truth about Alice."
Astrid certainly does, but she doesn't know what Peggy thinks she knows, so she says slowly, "So you know Alice is..."
Peggy's enthusiasm doesn't let her hold back. "A spy!" To her credit, she had attempted to continue whispering, but in her enthusiasm, it had come out as a very loud whisper.
Astrid cringes and not just because of the clumsy reveal.
First Parker as FBI Special Agent Hagen and now Alice White the spy.
Peggy launches into a story about a bomb at the Venezuelan consulate in Boston. Once again, Astrid has to hear someone who doesn't really know who Parker is describe her as a good guy, a heroic one at that.
At least it's a better story than the cats.
...
Astrid likes Dr. Maggie Collins.
They've only just met, but Astrid can already tell that Dr. Collins has a good head on her shoulders. She's street smart in a way that Astrid rarely sees in museum curators whose brains seem so full of academic facts that they've forgotten about the world around them.
"I've heard a lot about you," Dr. Collins says. Astrid would like to attribute it to her professional reputation, but she has a feeling she's missing something.
Dr. Collins leads Astrid from the front desk to her office, so they can discuss the security of the upcoming exhibit in more detail. A tip-off of an upcoming robbery has brought Astrid to Los Angeles. Since it seems to be related to a string of international robberies, the local FBI field office has allowed her to take point.
When they arrive, Dr. Collins' office isn't empty.
"Hi, Maggie," Parker chirps and then scornfully, "Astrid."
Dr. Collins doesn't look at all surprised. Astrid finds that more surprising than Parker's presence.
Astrid glances at Dr. Collins, wondering what identity Parker has bamboozled her with. Harry Wilson had posed as an IYS investigator during their meeting at the Monarch Museum, and Astrid wonders if Parker has done something similar. But in contrast to McSweeten and Peggy's naivete, Dr. Collins seems too smart and grounded to fall for a long-term con.
In spite of all that, Astrid still doesn't predict what comes next.
"Parker," Dr. Collins greets.
What.
And is that affection in her voice?
Astrid finds herself slightly slack-jawed. "You know she's…"
"The best thief in the world," Maggie finishes. "Who likes to sneak into my office whenever she's in town."
Again, there's not a hint of rebuke. Astrid can't wrap her head around it.
"Dr. Collins," Astrid says, a warning in her voice.
"Please, call me Maggie," Dr. Collins says.
It feels rather fast to dispense with formalities, but the competitive part of her decides that, since Parker does it, Astrid will too. "Very well. Maggie, I think we have to consider that—"
"It's not me," Parker interrupts. "Why would I tell you I'm about to rob a museum?"
"Obviously, to taunt me."
"Well, you make it so easy."
"I'm not easy. You are superlatively annoying."
"Girls," Maggie cuts in.
The tone of it is so familiar that it stops Astrid in her tracks. Maggie's voice is more commanding, but the almost maternal undertone is enough. The thing Astrid's been missing. She realizes Maggie must know Sophie. Given her familiarity with Parker, it makes sense.
"You two will work together to make sure nobody robs my museum," Maggie orders and holds up a hand when both Astrid and Parker open their mouths to protest. "And you will do it with minimal complaining."
To Astrid's surprise, Parker is quick to acquiesce. "Fine," she grumbles.
Astrid follows suit. "Understood."
Two days later, the entire heist crew is in handcuffs. Maggie's ears survive the experience with minimum complaining.
I'm not much of a comics person, so I have never read Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, but I am intrigued by the Supergirl trailer. Normally when a movie/tv adaptation of a great written work comes out, I forego watching and add the original work to my reading list because it's undoubtedly better. This time though, I might watch the movie and then read the comics after, so I can build to the really good stuff.
Counterpoint: If I read the comics now, then maybe I'll get back in the mood to finish writing my Supergirl fics. Hmm...
Everyone in the Polytrix fandom on Twitter losing their minds over Rei Ami lurking is so hilarious because I remember when someone in the Supercorp fandom asked Katie McGrath to sign their own fanfic that they had printed and brought to an event. Katie read part of it and signed by the exchanged "I love you's" lol.
(I thought this was insane behavior, to be clear. I couldn't even imagine doing that.)
But everyone freaking out over Rei is so vastly different, it's funny. Fandom culture does change, I guess.
To be clear, Rei is very obviously hunting the fan artists and fic writers for sport and I support her in this. She has been very sweet and is just a chaos gremlin. Almost like a certain character she sang for...
I find it so interesting how much Era 2 romanticizes Era 1. Especially Vin’s life. Girls want to be her. Marasi wonders if she ever felt jealous, insecure frightened or angry. This is the kid who didn’t believe Kell when he said that Marsh didn’t beat him. Because of course, all older brothers beat their younger siblings. Which, this is very true to life, we glorify historical figures despite them being human.
Also Vin is like pretty important in at least two major religions in Elendel and yet there are still kids on the street. Like really?
I wish Maysilee Donner would've met President Snow. He wouldve said some corny shit like "Snow lands on top" and she would've eaten the words and chewed them right back up so nasty that he would've been so ashamed to say them ever again.
"I am going to get a good grade in ___________, a thing that is both normal to want and possible to achieve" drifts through my brain with positively alarming regularity.
Fandom: KPop Demon Hunters
Relationship: Rumi & Mira & Zoey
Summary: I knew you'd protect her. Mira replays the moment over and over again in her mind. No flashes of light, no shattering into glowing pieces. Just blood. So much blood. Rumi's blood.
A/N: I merely set up the trauma dominoes. It's not my fault if Rumi kicks them over in such dramatic fashion. (It is my fault.) This fic begins in the middle of the Idol Awards chaos.
Prologue: fearful and villified
She's breaking the Honmoon.
Rumi can feel the way her demonic voice ripples through the Honmoon, weakening it. In front of her, Mira and Zoey have their weapons raised.
A demon with no feelings don't deserve to live.
The words echo around Rumi's head in Mira and Zoey's voices. She can still see the gleeful malice in their eyes as they pushed her around the stage. Rumi knows now that it wasn't her friends but demons who had taken on their forms. And yet, it is her friends standing in front of her now with their weapons drawn.
Years ago, Rumi had hopefully told Celine, "Maybe they'll understand." Celine hadn't been so optimistic. Maybe things would've been different if they'd been honest with Mira and Zoey from the start, if they'd avoided the secrecy and the lies. But they hadn't. So really, it doesn't matter what the response would've been then. Even if Celine hadn't been right then, she is now.
A demon with no feelings don't deserve to live.
Rumi has feelings. But as it turns out, so do other demons. She's no better than them. In fact, she's worse. The other demons take advantage of weak spots in the Honmoon. Rumi is the one actually tearing the Honmoon apart.
A demon full of feelings don't deserve to live.
She doesn't deserve to live.
She's tearing the Honmoon apart. She's destroying the very thing she's devoted her life to protecting. Maybe, it'll be better off without her. Maybe, even with just the two of them, Mira and Zoey can preserve what's left of the Honmoon.
Rumi will give them their best chance. She embraces all of her shame and self-loathing and feels her demon side take over her body. Her arms elongate slightly, hands transforming into claws. Something happens with her eyes, skewing her vision slightly.
Her voice echoes all around them, gutteral and unnatural. She chuckles with a humor she doesn't feel. "You didn't fall for it."
They're hesitant. Zoey still has only two of her shin-kal knives out instead of her customary six. Mira changes her stance, looking all the more ready to protect Zoey than attack Rumi. Even in this demon form, they're still looking at her as their friend.
Rumi knows how to deal with that. She targets Zoey, careful not to actually hurt her friends. It's a delicate dance that she choreographs as she weaves around Mira and slashes out at Zoey. Rumi knows them well, maybe too well, after so many sparring sessions. It's easy to string together near misses on all sides, to build the tension, to accelerate the pace.
She can feel Zoey's anxiety rising. Mira's protective instincts are starting to fire on all cylinders. She swings her wol-do with more power. Rumi slides underneath the strike, once again positioning Zoey between them. Mira growls. Rumi avoids one of Zoey's knives. She'd started throwing them not too long ago. Rumi closes in quickly, grabbing onto Zoey and shoving her to the ground.
Finally, she feels it. Mira's wol-do slices through the right side of her lower back just below her rib cage.
Blood gushes down her back, down her legs.
It's over. Based on the location of the hit, Mira would've gotten her in the kidney, maybe even the renal artery. She should bleed out quickly enough.
Relief settles across her body. She doesn't so much as let the facade drop as let everything drop away. She doesn't know if she smiles. The moment is a kind a blur. "I knew you'd protect her."
Mira's horror cuts through the haze. Her ferocity shifts into confusion and then guilt. "Rumi?"
Rumi steps back. She's made a mistake. She acted too impulsively. The guilt on Mira and Zoey's faces bore into her, and the shame makes her patterns flash. She hadn't meant to hurt them. She needs them to go away. She still wants to protect them. They don't need to see the end.
"Go," Rumi tries to command. "Protect the Honmoon."
But they don't seem to care about the Honmoon. Mira and Zoey approach. They're gaining on her. She's stumbling, weak from the blood loss. Her legs collapse underneath her. She reaches out for the ground trying to slow her fall, but her arms are no stronger. Her body hits the ground, boneless. Coincidentally, that's when the pain hits. She realizes the claws have retracted from her hands when they curl into fists.
Mira and Zoey are too close now. Rumi doesn't have it in her to keep backing away, so she does the next best thing.
Fandom: KPop Demon Hunters
Relationship: Rumi & Mira & Zoey
A/N: This is a few bonding scenes set pre-movie, featuring elements of Korean culture. On ao3, Korean words will have translations in hover text.
Excerpt:
Zoey wrestles briefly with her insecurity, but she would appreciate the opportunity to get this weight off her chest. She tells Rumi about one of their makeup artists offering to recommend places where she could get her freckles removed.
"I know, I know, in Korea, everyone has to have perfect skin, especially idols, but I—" Zoey sighs, deflating a little. "I'm tired of hearing about it. Even back in America, Koreans would make comments about getting rid of my freckles. But I earned them. I like skateboarding outside and not worrying about how I'm 'ruining my skin.' I don't want to get rid of them. They're me." She looks back up at Rumi with her perfect skin. "Is that silly?"
"No," Rumi reassures her. "It's very... human." For a moment, Rumi's reassuring tone falters. For most people, that could be read as a sign of insincerity, but with Rumi, there's an undercurrent of sadness, maybe even longing. Zoey doesn't understand it.
I was thinking about how much Korean music has changed since Jinu's time, which lead me to think about how the Korean language has also changed. There is one place where a lot of the old Korean has stuck around: Jeju-do, where Rumi was originally conceptualized as having grown up.
Now I'm just imagining Rumi and Jinu talking in Jeju-mal, while Mira and Zoey look on confused, wondering if this is some Korean demon dialect.
As much as I adore conlangs, I really like how the Imperial Radch books handle language. The book is entirely in English but you're constantly aware that you're reading a "translation," both of the Radchaai language Breq speaks as default, and also the various other languages she encounters. We don't hear the words but we hear her fretting about terms of address (the beloathed gendering on Nilt) and concepts that do or don't translate (Awn switching out of Radchaai when she needs a language where "citizen," "civilized," and "Radchaai person" aren't all the same word) and noting people's registers and accents. The snatches of lyrics we hear don't scan or rhyme--even, and this is what sells it to me, the real-world songs with English lyrics, which get the same "literal translation" style as everything else--because we aren't hearing the actual words, we're hearing Breq's understanding of what they mean. I think it's a cool way to acknowledge linguistic complexity and some of the difficulties of multilingual/multicultural communication, which of course becomes a larger theme when we get to the plot with the Presgar Translators.
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
