Retrospective: Fire

The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Iron Man (Movies) Person of Interest (TV)
Gen
G
Retrospective: Fire
author
Summary
Two cities are on fire -- one literally, one symbolically.Two men (Tony Stark and Harold Finch) are trying to put out those fires. With a chronic lack of time, resources, and allies, the best they can do is offer a little emotional support across a quick interdimensional phone call.This is a personal message to my readers from both major fandoms; even if you tend to avoid crossovers, I hope you'll at least read the notes.ETA: First chapter is a conversation between Harold Finch (POI) and Tony Stark (MCU). Chapters 2-4 are simply a bunch of preview clips from work I've already written but haven't yet gotten into shape enough to post, sorted by fandom (POI, MCU, and then everything else). If you're curious about my upcoming fics and chapter updates, come take a look!
Note
At the end of 2018, my Retrospective noted: I've been chronically running on five hours' sleep most nights. And then it said I'd come back and update the notes when I had a chance, which apparently I never did.I didn't take my own advice from that fic; I'm still juggling too many projects. But at least I'm getting better sleep.This installment's theme is "everything's on fire and I'm cut off from all the support I used to rely on." Had this posted on New Year's Eve of 2019, as planned, I would be looking back at it going "why the hell did I think 2019 was so hard?" But it's 3/4 of the way through 2020, and this feels like a good summary for the past 1.75 years.Unlike the previous Retrospectives, this time I'm juggling two fandoms, and the conversation turned down some unexpected pathways. So while the key frustrations are the same between the characters and me (lack of allies/support/resources, trying to do too much at once, and an unstable world), the specifics are character-based, not writer-based. (E.g. there's nobody in my life who's done anything like Steve did to Tony, and I have no guilt/regrets on par with either character's backstory.)Anyway, it's time, again, to thank those who've helped and supported me through the past two years. The "gift" part of this fic is less about the fic itself, and more about highlighting a few faces among the many, my friends and fellow fans who have meant so much to me during this time.IMelopsittacus, let's start with you. Not so much because we've been in frequent contact, but because you're the one who suggested a crossover between Tony & Harold or between their AIs. I've been working from that concept while trying to write this, and it turned out quite fruitful; thanks for the idea ^_^MulaSaWala, my dear friend: My greatest skill is in the use of words, and yet they are inadequate to convey what you mean to me at this point in my life. Thank you for your support, encouragement, and companionship, especially when I doubt myself.tilla and Crazy_Cat_Lady, I have much enjoyed working with you, and your reactions to my tales are a thing I return to many times when I need a boost of energy. Thank you both for putting up with my slow beta reading.Ioga, I wish I had the time and energy to be in contact with you more frequently; our conversations have meant a lot to me. You give me a much-needed sense of perspective, and I'm glad that we've been able to weather the moments when our expectations unexpectedly clash. I truly value your friendship.EndlessStairway, I include you as the author who's continually engaged me over the past year, both via writing and via our interaction in the comments section. Your material may be the kind I wouldn't recommend to sensitive readers, but it's always great to wake up to a notification of a new installment.Achika, I'm still tickled to have become a recurring character in a fan comic, even before you knew what I looked like. Our conversations have been quite enjoyable, and I look forward to many more. (At some point I'll have to go back through our emails, because I'm juggling way too many projects right now, and I've completely lost track of what we were doing off AO3.)And for all of you, I hope you're managing to stay safe and relatively sane during the Year to End All Years. I've heard the curse "May you live in interesting times"; well, here's hoping 2021 is a bit less "interesting."
All Chapters

Alt-Fandom Previews

A Fugitive in Stardew Valley

A clip from what's already recorded (and why I need to be able to switch clothing during gameplay):
After all the chores were done, I looked in despair at my muddy clothes and decided that I was going to have to find a way to wash up... and just hope that nobody visited the farm while I was naked. I filled the watering can and hid behind some trees. This late in the day, the water was pretty cold, and I didn't even have any soap (that was another thing to pick up from Pierre), but I managed to get myself and my clothes reasonably clean.


Five Moments of Friendship (Recettear)

Nagi teaches her how to wash her hands with a little ladle. “Everything here has been placed to create a sense of tranquility,” she explains. “Even the steps of the ceremony create a quiet bond between the participants. When you learn the steps, you know just how to act, so there is no awkwardness, nothing unexpected.”


Five Moments of Friendship Is Magic

By the time Twilight has gathered eggs, fed the pigs, washed the sheep, pulled weeds (after she’d learned to tell the difference between the weeds and the carrots), checked all the grape trellises for any necessary repairs, swept out the barn, scrubbed a wagon, hung up the laundry, painted a shed, mowed the lawn, and put all the tools back in their proper order, she’s about as exhausted as she’s ever felt in her entire life.

Also famished. As the food gets set out for lunch, she finds herself drooling. “I’m so ready for this day to be over,” she says as she begins to load her plate.

“T’ain’t hardly noon,” Applejack counters. “That’s when we start tending to the orchard.”


Bound

“The second easiest plan would be much less secure: Find a way to make these wards permanent, and then leave me here and never return. ”

“Killing me is the most effective plan?” Zelgadis asked, with his usual level of dry snark that betrayed little of the fear and turmoil within him.

“The fewest parts that can go wrong,” Xellos said. “Now that you’ve bound me to this place, I cannot leave until you release the spell. You’ll forgive me,” he added with a half-smile, “for hoping we can achieve a plan that doesn’t leave me trapped here quite so long.”


Things to Get Used to in Night Vale: A List

Water. There is none. No bodies of water. No wells. No bottled water for sale.
No rain (219 days). Does it ever rain here? They schedule sandstorms.
But: Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area (“maybe wait until a flash flood”)
(possibly not a thing? should look into this)
Old Town Drawbridge
Citizens have umbrellas with sturdiness ratings. What are umbrellas for here?

Angels. They’re not angels. Are they angels?
We’re not supposed to knowadmit to knowing about angels.

City Council Elections
Family members kidnapped and taken to abandoned mine shaft outside of town.
Actual kidnapping or mere ritualistic play? Is “torture cubicles” a code phrase?

Horrified by haircuts? Possibly only Cecil. Note: Cecil mostly bald. Possibly upset over losing his own hair?
Note: This is a desert. Much hotter than I am used to. Such a relief.
Note: Concerned about the barber. Barber shop apparently burned down.


Upcoming FMIs

ElfQuest

When Crescent was taken from him, Strongbow gave himself over to the wolfrage—it was better than having to come to terms with the knowledge that he would never again feel her arms around his neck. More than that, though, was the loss of the one person who could understand him without words, even more clearly than her mother.

When Bearclaw fell to his own rage, Strongbow grieved in silence; other wounds were too fresh for him to lose himself again. His chief’s body was gone before they got there, and even as Strongbow worked with the others to kill the great beast, he kept coming back to the reality that he never would be able to hunt a bear alongside the man he’d always looked up to, the one whose stubbornness had spurred Strongbow on to master the bow.


Buffy

Contrasting Spuffy with Bangel; I'm firmly in the Spuffy camp.
When she’d come straight from the grave, wounded, disoriented, Spike had dropped everything, instantly, to help bring her back to herself, bandaging her hands with tender fingers, as if wishing to give her some warmth he no longer possessed. In that moment, it had felt like there was nothing in the world that mattered to him aside from her and whatever she might need.

And all Angel’s romantic overtures, and even the times he stood beside her in battle, never made her feel respected and cherished in the way that Spike had made her feel, lying next to her throughout the night, letting her move at her own pace and take only what she needed, giving her the strength to face the end of the world.


Tangled

The last time she got seriously hurt--falling from one of her climbs--she’d been six or seven, and her mother had been so freaked out that she hadn’t left the tower for weeks, and it had been years before Rapunzel worked up the courage to try climbing anything taller than her waist.

By now, she’s an accomplished acrobat, and well beyond that clumsy stage.

But sometimes she misses being hurt, missing her mother dropping everything to fawn over her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.


Slayers

It’s been so long since he’s had a good meal.

The mortal food sustains his form, but he longs for a taste of hate, or fear, or jealousy. All the savory flavors of human suffering, and of the darker parts of their nature that they disguise even from themselves. Wandering through humanity had filled him up just from their day-to-day misery, and he had never stopped to think that one day that might all be… gone.

Or, at least, he’d expected that the end of humanity would also be the end of everything, and thus he’d never prepared for a hereafter.


SCP Foundation

“I see what you mean about not having neighbors, though. Put them near a few D-class prisoners—”

“Indeed, sir. He’d end up compelled to commit all the crimes that put them on death row.”

“Okay, so, set them up in a facility nowhere near other people. Any other considerations?”

“We’ll need to be careful with the food distribution. Gray can’t feed himself, and he only chews or swallows when one of the other four is doing so.”


"Mama Stella"

“They said I ought to shave it off if I can’t keep it combed,” she sobs into Mama Stella’s apron. “Why did God make me so ugly?”

“Oh, my lambkin,” Mama Stella murmurs, holding her tight, “don’t think that. You mustn’t think that.” After wiping Miranda’s eyes, Mama Stella smoothes her hair and sighs. “You know, when I was little, I wished I had curly hair. I don’t think I’d ever seen hair as curly as yours, but I wanted curls like Shirley Temple. You know what my mama told me?”

Still sniffling, Miranda shakes her head.

“There’s so many types of beauty in the world, it would be a shame if we were all the same. Like if all the birds looked like swans, then we wouldn’t get to see any chickadees, or loons, or herons, or owls, or teals and blue warblers and red-headed woodpeckers. So many lovely birds, but they’re lovely in different ways.”

“I’ve never seen a… a teal,” Miranda says as Mama Stella leads her to the den.

“Well,” Mama Stella says, “I can’t show you the bird, but I can show you the color that got its name from its feathers.” And she digs out her pastels.


Upcoming Night Vale Fic

“But… you fear him.”

“Yes. But I will not let my fear stop me. I seek to understand.”

The council stirs. “Understanding is dangerous.”

“It is. Understanding is the most dangerous thing. But there is nothing more important.”


Upcoming Lost Fics

First

He’d never been burned before, not even as a little kid; he was always too careful, too cautious, too used to thinking before he acted. He knew the punch of a bullet, the pierce of an arrow; he’d been countless times bruised and bloodied, but none of it had ever felt like this.

Second

“Would it be fair to say, Jack, that your key goals include the life, safety, and freedom of the people in your little group?”

“You know damn well they do.”

“But a moment ago, you said that you would be getting ‘all of them’ off the island -- even if it meant letting three of them die. In that moment, the illusion of freedom meant more to you than the lives of three people you supposedly care about. Do you see that?”

He still glares at me, but his expression’s a little less sure. I’m getting more confident of my position here, my tactics.

[…]

“Second to that, I aim to protect the lives of the people on this island. For the moment, this includes the lives of your party. Now, a moment ago, you were so desperate to seize this chance for freedom that you were willing to sacrifice three lives for it. So there are some things that you value more than you value the lives of your friends.

“And the truth is, Jack, that, if it seems necessary, to defend this island and preserve the rest of the lives that take shelter here… I am far more willing than you are to sacrifice lives.”

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