Previously on Dominion, ‘Pilot’
Jeep and teen Alex play basketball and talk smack at an old farmhouse. Alex sinks a shot, telling Jeep he owes him “the jerky, the fuzzy dice, and your Glock.” Jeep says no way to the dice, and as he ruffles Alex’s hair, a flock of crows takes off in a flurry. That’s never good. He shifts Alex behind him and spots two 8 balls skittering over a broken roof. Jeep shoos him inside and pulls out his guns. An 8 ball we’ll call Ann Taylor Loft leaps impossibly and Jeep shoots her dead. Pigtails is next, but Green Bermudas guy is wily. Inside, Alex hears Jeep’s voice calling for the medkit and unlocks the door. Bermudas jumps him but Jeep arrives and shoots him down. “I’ll never leave you, I promise,” Jeep says as they embrace. Sweet, but false.
Back in modern day, Principate William says a few words of benediction as Jeep’s face is covered by a white shroud and a soldier lights the funeral pyre. RIP Jeep and your gruff voice, til the next flashback.
The senators bicker at Caesar’s Palace. Senator Romero says she can have the reactor back up in a few days. Whele says they should be focusing on defense. “From a man that brought an 8 ball into the city,” Thorn snarks. He defends his decision, fibbing that it was already inside the walls and that he only wanted to strengthen Vega. Thorn mocks him as another Senator calls for an audit of House Whele, but Romero and Riesen say it’s a waste of time. “May the Chosen One save us,” a Senator mutters.
Meanwhile the Chosen One is getting drunk in the bathroom, manically trying to rub the tattoos off. He drunkenly stumbles to see Claire, only temporarily delayed in the Hallways of Interruption by Noma’s headlock. He begs Claire to run to New Delphi, but she reminds him of his duty as the Chosen One and as a soldier. What has Vega done for him lately, huh?! Not getting his way, he calls her a spoiled princess and a hypocrite. She sends him packing.
Whele’s Lion Den
Back at the MGM, the General harasses Whele over his lies. “The creature’s location was not the salient point.” “The salient point is that you screwed up,” Riesen counters. They banter about ego before Whele thanks him for taking his side. They have their own marriage of necessity.
The men agree that the city does not need to break out in Chosen One mania, but there are leaks to plug, namely the other people in the bunker when Alex received the tattoos. No problem, Whele says, they’re being “spoken to.” Slow as Molasses Gatekeeper for one, who ends up as MGM lion chow. Good riddance.
Gabriel’s Party House
The possessed whoop it up while Gabriel toasts and preserves two of their fallen comrades in gloppy amber for the Father’s return. Yum.
Like a preacher’s kid testing his tongue for cursing, he calls one a “ballsy son of a bitch.” A summons from Michael stops him suddenly, before Furiad snaps him back to reality. “Enjoy your bodies!” he shouts, leaving them to an 8-ball orgy, so to speak.
Michael and Gabriel meet in the sun on a beachside cliff, their makeup a distracting orange out in the natural light. “Didn’t Father always teach us not to rest before our work was done?” Gabriel sasses.
Surely this ridiculous conversation has come up before now: Gabriel is convinced that God couldn’t stand his failure of a creation and Michael accuses him of jealousy. Gabriel whines about the humans being given the angels’ birthright—the earth, their bodies. Michael tries to redirect his anger back to the Father that abandoned them, but Gabriel says his quarrel is with the humans and anyone who stands with them.
“I won’t allow you to hurt another soul,” Michael threatens weakly. If that were possible, why didn’t you already do that? Gabriel responds, “The humans don’t need you to protect them, Michael, they have the Chosen One.” Michael actually looks provoked. Or something. Parched, maybe? It’s hard to tell. The whining on this show is killing me. There is no indication that these two beings lead the forces responsible for the destruction or defense of earth. Can someone please take this seriously? And also lay off the self-tanner.
Cell of Pink Bedsheets
The handmaidens hunch in the corner of their cell in Vega prison, “humiliated” without their coverings but fab in bandeaus and tiny skirts. Coral is harping about Roan again when Arika is summoned to Whele’s office. He admirably recalls years ago when she outbid him for fuel by presumably sleeping with the dealer who was later found “gutted like a tuna.” Smiling, she emphasizes that they couldn’t have known about Roan or been in league with Gabriel since Queen Evelyn worships the divine feminine. He still needs their air power, so he floats the idea of Arika’s execution to prod Evelyn into joining the fight. That doesn’t make sense, but he’s not the brightest bulb sometimes. Arika agrees with me. Back to the drawing board, Giles.
Riesen Breakfast of Interruptions
Bixby and Claire have breakfast, Felicia the maid teasing them about eating too much, when General Riesen walks in.
Claire sends them away, protesting her engagement to her father. “So wanting to marry a man I love is selfish,” she spits. Riesen launches into a lecture about duty that she finishes for him, acknowledging that he created the V system so everyone had a job to do, but now they’re all trapped in their castes. The Senate is stuck in the status quo, he says, urging her to bring it new blood with her marriage to William. If she inherits his seat without William, he fears that Whele “will be on you like a wolf on a lamb.” Again she refuses, so he calls her out about Alex. Claire tries to sell her point, but at the mention of Alex being the Chosen One, Riesen blows her off. Why would we want the Chosen One and his tats in our corner? That just would be silly. As she huffs away, he’s stopped from going after her by a mysterious pain.
Alex is dressing for duty when Noma walks in, half dressed, then undressed, testing his degree of blindness to anyone but Claire. Yep, 100% whipped. “So, how long you been banging Claire Riesen?” she prods, but then reassures him of her silence. Then Alex gets new orders: his security detail has been reassigned to House Whele. Oh joy. On his way, Michael intercepts him, saying they need to talk. Alex pops off that nothing has changed, and Michael, tired of his lip, jerks him straight into the sky and tosses him into his loft.
He tells Alex that Gabriel knows about him, that he’s a target. Alex responds like a resentful brat, crying about the Throne of LIES Michael sat on all these years wah wah blah whipping blah etc. He admits to Michael’s surprise that he did read the tattoos and they said not to trust those closest to him. Alex conveniently applies that to Michael and stomps out. Freaking humans, man.
PS.. I can’t believe Michael didn’t know he was lying last episode. Worst archangel ever. Besides Lucifer. And Gabriel. Ok, third worst. Whatever, they’re all terrible.
Whele’s Lion Den
Whele wants a man-to-man chat when Alex reports for duty. Rubbing his fingers absentmindedly, the consul confesses he was once a televangelist, a true believer, who now realizes the error of his ways.
But he understands the psychology of faith—people could tear the city apart to get to Alex, good or bad. Alex says not to worry because he couldn’t care less about those tats, but he really wants to know why he was reassigned away from his Not Secret Lovah. Priorities. Whele, amused, tells him that Riesen ordered it. Speaking of chronic interrupters, William enters, genuflecting much to his father’s irritation.
William and Alex stroll through the city street market. “I apologize for my father. He’s a narcissist of the highest order,” William says affectionately like only children of lunatics can. Two people stop the Principate to offer him their blessings, and he charitably hands them extra ration cards. Why he’s not mobbed, I don’t know, because I would mug him and I’m not a criminal. The men continue, William smiling his creepy smile, promising to be there if Alex needs to talk. “I’m here and I’ve always been here, waiting to be of service to you.” Smooth.
The General buttons up his shirt post-checkup, and Senator Thorne, a doctor, encourages him to trust Claire so she’ll know why he’s pushing her to marry William. He doesn’t want her thinking he’s dying any second of congestive heart failure. With her questionable staring powers, Becca tries to elicit a reason for why he goes outside the city walls every few weeks. He dismisses her.
The handmaidens crouch in a circle on the cell floor, filing their nails on the concrete, green shavings of poison piling up at the center. “What will be the sentence?” one asks. Torture, death, the usual. Coral clasps Arika’s hand happily. “It gives me great peace that we will be the instrument that causes that man to die.” I’m not sure if Coral is clueless, but Arika is smirking, and that is not a good sign.
House of Interruptions
Alex strolls down the hallway to visit Claire when Felicia plows into him with the tea service tray. His tattoos peak out from his sleeves as he helps pick up the pieces. He doesn’t notice because he’s Alex and it doesn’t mean anything to him. But it means something to Felicia, who sets the tray down in another room and sprouts wings, glaring after him. Oh noes!
Riesen tells Michael he was missed in the Senate meeting yesterday, but Michael claims he was surveying the Western Cradle, “making sure the threat was gone.” Yeah. Not really. Riesen lectures him for not mentioning the soldier angels like Roan, but Michael never considered them a threat in This War. A bunch of abandoned, bored, human-faced warrior angels didn’t seem like a concern? Riesen wants to know how Alex factors in, but Michael responds vaguely, emphasizing his free will. Kind of like the Force—maybe he’s Anakin, but we’re hoping he’s Luke. Great. You are zero help, Michael. He presses the general for some parental trick to reach Alex, but he’s got nothing. “Sometimes you just have to wish them Godspeed,” Riesen says. Well, no joke. He just set Claire up in a surprise arranged marriage. You think he’s got the answers?
House of Interruptions
Alex peaks in Claire’s room to apologize, saying he understands why she can’t leave. This sounds familiar. She caves, and they have tattoo sex. She’s totally reading them like Braille. Not really. But you know she wants to.
In the afterglow, she asks if he isn’t even curious about them. “I’d burn them off if I could,” he says. Poor little Mockingbird. Clearly he’s been to the same Chosen One School of Sulking where Katniss earned her PhD in Advanced Brattiness. “They’re a gift,” she chides. “For who?” he whines. She walks him out, and Bixby runs out for a goodnight hug, looking cute in a dress and boots. While Claire shuffles her off to bed, Alex sees Felicia… who steps forward with a challenge… and wings.
She dispatches the redshirt guard with the razor edge of her wings, tossing Claire and slicing Bixby. Felicia and Alex tumble down the elevator shaft and into the kitchen. He slides under the gas oven, house alarms sounding, and pulls out his lighter. As the angel once again unfurls her wings, surprise!
Her feathers ignite and smolder, so she leaps out of the window through the hail of gunfire from outside. Alex makes sure Claire and Bix are being seen to before heading out into the night.
In the hallway outside Arika’s cell, the guard can’t tell Whele what happened, only that she wants to talk to him. She’s lounging at the head of a pile of dead handmaidens bleeding from their eyes, green around their lips. That had to be painful.
He’s making That Face again while she lays out her demands. Let her go and claim that the handmaidens were all in league with Gabriel, or be known as a murderer and warmonger with Helena. Never trust a woman who keeps her makeup pristine in prison.
Alex hurriedly packs his bags, taking a moment to stare at his mother’s picture, and is caught by Claire looking 80s chic.
“You and Bixby almost died because that thing came after me. That’s not going to change, Claire. I’m a target now.” She bargains, telling him she’ll go too, not because he’s the Chosen One or because she loves him, but because he has a terrible sense of direction. “Who else is gonna keep you from getting lost?” Symbolism, y’all. He doesn’t crack. She flips out but he’s leaving anyway.
Fortress of Evil
Felicia reports to Gabriel, confirming that Alex is the Chosen One and was stronger than expected. He sends her off with Furiad, smirking to himself. Maybe he can smirk us all to death.
Alex drives through the night when his tats start bugging him. He pulls his sleeve back to see them moving, no doubt telling him to “TURN THIS CAR AROUND, YOUNG MAN,” and “DON’T MAKE ME COME BACK THERE,” but he covers them back up. What a pain to have all the answers.
Riesen is on his biweekly jaunt outside the walls, taking the winding stairs of the Pyramid and enters a dressing room where Binnie’s Hale’s spooky Victrola version of “As Time Goes By” is playing. “I brought your favorite,” he calls, leaving a jar of honey on the table and sitting on the bed. A smile crosses his face as she enters. The raven-haired possessed woman climbs onto his lap. “I’ve missed you.” She kisses him. Oh, Edward.