The Olympics are almost over and we'll be back to regular television viewing again. I'm looking forward to my shows being back on the screen.
I thoroughly enjoyed Legends of Tomorrow 's take on Groundhog Day. The end definitely intrigued me. Looking forward to seeing how that plays out.
I finished up another episode of The Punisher and I'm really trying to figure out what's going on with Lewis. I'm not very familiar with the comics versions of Frank's story so I like not having any information to pull from.
Caught several more episodes of Chicago Fire and I'm getting close to the end of season four. Oddly enough, I wasn't all that upset to see Chili go. I did like the reach out to Severide even if that particular thread got rushed.
That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from One Last Chance, a sexy short exploring the need to take one last stab at making something work.
Here's the mini-blurb:
Uma Banks, a natural born pilot, fails everyone she loves. But her biggest catastrophe is Fitz Winterson, a lifelong friend who should be more. Uma has one last chance to make things right… if she doesn't blow it again.
And a sneaky peek…
As the last transport lifted off, Uma Banks stood, watching the black smoke roll off the burning piles of rubble. She couldn’t say she'd be sorry to see the end of the new settlement… an outpost called Chancery on a now-disputed planet called Homah. Not with what she’d been through… but she didn't want to face returning to the Helix either. It didn’t seem to matter where she went… a path of destruction always followed along behind.
Uma couldn’t seem to escape it. Even now. The last one off the planet, their fucked up new home, she looked down at the surface and muttered a final good riddance. It didn’t matter she’d had nothing to do with the Cessians showing up and claiming ownership of this area of space. To her, it just showed she failed at everything.
The settlement failure only added one more thing to the list.
Because she’d failed before landing on the planet.
Way before.
For as long as Uma could remember, she’d let the people she loved down. Nothing she did ever measured up. Or proved to be never enough.
She constantly screwed up.
Her mother.
Biggest disappointment of the woman’s life.
Uma's father, Darmot Banks, bailed three days after Uma's third birthday and Ursula Banks placed the blame firmly at their daughter's feet. Uma got daily reminders at home with cruel words and random injuries. Until she went to school and discovered not all children suffered like she did. But… Uma didn't have clothes that matched or the latest everything and being different took on a whole new level of horrible. Uma wouldn't care if the other kids made fun of her, except she desperately wanted to belong to something.
Then, on the playground at school, she found a friend. Fitz Winterson. He didn't care if her hand-me-downs were several generations old. Or about the fact her comm device lacked the bells and whistles of the most recent models. Fitz treated her like she mattered and Uma finally came out of her shell and opened up about her homelife. How her mom blamed her for Darmot leaving. Put the fault of their divorce solely on Uma's head.
Fitz leaned in and told Uma a huge secret. "You know what? Parents fight and split up, but not all of them blame their children." His gaze focused on the gyroscope spinning two girls around at a slow speed. "My folks just got a divorce and my mom blames the military. The constant moving and change of station never let her put down roots." He met Uma's gaze again. "She doesn't blame me, but she crawls inside a bottle every night and stays there." He lifted a shoulder, shrugging. "At least she's not screaming at Dad or me anymore."
"What did you do when she got mean?" Did he hide under the bed like she did?
Fitz shrugged. "I lost myself in books. It's like the words on the page drown out the noise."
Uma wrinkled her nose. "I don't like to read." Not like her mom would buy books anyway.
Fitz nudged her shoulder. "So find something else. What do you like to do?"
Uma considered the question for a few moments. "I love to draw. And play rickett." The sport tested hand and eye coordination where a fist-sized ball had to enter a six-inch hole to score.
Fitz flashed a smile. "There you go then. A way to escape." He gave her a wink then got up and joined a holo-ball game.
Uma's mom wouldn't do things like take Uma to practice, so for now, she could count rickett out. But she picked up a pencil and drew on whatever she had handy. Sometimes she snuck into her mom's room and searched for loose change. A notebook didn't cost much and Ursula rarely missed the small amounts Uma stashed away in her backpack.
And Fitz had it right. When Ursula got mean, Uma could hide away in her closet and get lost in her pictures. If she stayed quiet and out of the way, Ursula would settle down and leave her daughter alone. A small cache of MREs and a jug of water meant Uma didn't even have to leave her room until her mom passed out or fell asleep. She got lonely sometimes, especially after Fitz had to move again, but she never forgot his kindness or advice.
She couldn't count the number of notebooks and sketchpads she went through, but the lifeline they provided throughout her primary school years kept her sane. And out of the Casualty Department. She even gained some acceptance from the other students when her sketches were featured in the primary school art show.
Exited the transport, Uma spied Fitz leading a group to the intake station. He met her gaze with a brief, icy stare then focused his attention anywhere but on her.
She sighed. She'd give anything to go back to primary school and have the kind of easy relationship with Fitz again. A single chance to have him look at her with friendship instead of cool detachment.
Way too much baggage between them now. And most of that luggage belonged to her.
I'm liking this one. It's gone several different directions but seems to finally be settling into the story it needs to be.
That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.
ML Skye
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