#The End of the Westward Journey

[the-monkey-ruler]

A Chinese Odyssey Part Three (2016) 大话西游3

Director: Liu Zhenwei Screenwriter: Liu Zhenwei Starring: Han Geng / Tang Yan / Wu Jing / Karen Mok / Zhang Chao / Zhang Yao / Wang Yibo / Gillian Chung / Xie Nan / He Jiong / Hu Jing / Huang Zheng / Stephen Chow / Cao Seung-yeon / Zhou Yixuan / Yuan Kui / Lü Jianmin / Wang Feifei / Du Juan / Wang Xingang / Chai Ge / Zhou Jin / Zheng Wenzheng / Ye Liu / Liu Jing / Peng Xintong / Xi Wei / Yu Guanghong Genre: Comedy / Romance / Fantasy Production Country/Region: Mainland China / Hong Kong China Language: Mandarin Chinese Date: 2016-09-14 (Mainland China) Duration: 93 minutes Also known as: The End of the Westward Journey / A Chinese Odyssey: Part Three / A Chinese Odyssey Part III / 大话西游终结篇 IMDB: TT4862468 Type: Reimagining

Summary:

Taking place in an alternate timeline, Fairy Zixia used the Pandora's Box to travel forward in time to see the consequences of leaving a tear drop in Joker's heart, which led to her "demise" and Joker being revealed as the reincarnation of the Monkey King. Fearing for her life and Joker's mental well being, she denounced her relationship to Joker, which led to him asking about what happened in the future. Zixia revealed to him the fact that she left a mark in Joker's heart, leading to Bai Jing Jing realizing that Joker will eventually stop having feelings for her, leading him to fall for Zixia.

However, Zixia withheld the information about Joker being the Monkey King's reincarnation and tried to make things right by forcing Joker into meeting with Bai Jing Jing much earlier than in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Joker had already stopped having feelings for Jing-Jing and prevented Zixia's plan from going any further resulting in a slap from Zixia. After having a talk with Qingxia (Zixia's twin sister trapped in her body), Zixia decided to go the Bull Demon King and marry him so Joker can stop falling for her so she left Joker - who was looking for her after being slapped - alone by himself.

Joker continues his search for Zixia in the desert, where he witnessed this timeline's version of the Monkey King being subdued by Guanyin, with the difference being that the Longevity Monk used the Pandora's Box to escape from being killed by the Monkey King and the time to subdue the Monkey King took longer than expected. After Guanyin left with the subdued Monkey King, Joker found himself left with the returning Longevity Monk and both were caught together by the Bull Demon King, being happy about having a second wife and the Longevity Monk being captured.

Meanwhile, in Heaven, Guanyin handed over the subdued Monkey King to the Jade Emperor, discussing about the overwhelming presence of demons and fearing that the Sealed Book had a mistake in it, which Jade Emperor reassures her that the Book is never wrong. As Guanyin left to report the progress to the Buddha, the Jade Emperor unsealed the Monkey King, who is revealed to be the Six-Eared Monkey, revealing that the Sealed Book did not mention about the Monkey King in the initial pilgrimage at all as he was born 500 years later as Joker, causing the Jade Emperor to get the Six-Eared Monkey fill in the role until Joker arrived from the future. This eventually leads to the Jade Emperor betraying the Six-Eared Monkey and have him slowly burn in the Great Oven.

In the residence of the Bull Demon King, Zixia and Qingxia were talking about the possible married life with the Bull Demon King, with Zixia realizing that the Pandora's Box was missing and suspecting that Qingxia had given it to the Six-Eared Monkey, with a flashback revealing that she was an ex-lover of his. Zixia was soon confronted with Princess Iron Fan (铁扇公主) and her son Red Child (红孩子), resulting in a fight between the two women, leading Zixia being blown past the just arrived Bull Demon King, Joker and Longevity Monk. The Bull Demon King, realizes the trouble he's in and instructs Joker to take the Longevity Monk and Zixia to his sister, Xiang Xiang while he tries to stall the Princess for time. While on the run, Joker demands to know why Zixia left him alone whereas the Longevity Monk accidentally found a way to leave by freeing one of the Bull King's Giant Bulls. The trio escaped, but were chased by Red Child until both Joker and Logevity Monk accidentally stole his fire wheels (used for flight).

Upon arriving at Xiang Xiang's Palace, the trio met with Xiang Xiang and, much to their horror, witnessed her devouring a man whole. She challenged the trio and defeated them, leading them to being locked up in the dungeon. It was then that Zixia tells Joker about her demise in the original timeline, and why she tried so hard to stop Joker from developing feelings for her. At the same time, the Bull Demon King arrived to reconcile with Xiang Xiang about the execution of her lover, Mantis, by his own hands, which she rejected as Mantis was the only true love to her. It was at this time that the Longevity Monk played the main theme of the entire A Chinese Odyssey series, leading to Joker and Zixia kissing at the end of the song. The Demon Bull King and Xiang Xiang saw the silhouettes of them kissing, causing the siblings to burst into the dungeon only to see the Longevity Monk taking Zixia's place. When Xiang Xiang saw this, she ended up drooling implying that she's interested in Joker, thus allowing the Bull Demon King giving his blessing to Joker for Xiang Xiang's hand in marriage.

While preparations for the Bull Demon King's 2nd wedding is underway, Joker and Xiang Xiang talked about Mantis and the reason she did not use the Pandora's Box to prevent his death while the Bull Demon King tried to impress Zixia. He asked Joker for tips on how to impress Zixia, with Joker using the Pandora's Box multiple times, the first few times to play a game on the Bull King, 2 times to get rid of the Bull King and Xiang Xiang, and the last to get himself and Zixia away from the ceremony, only for the plan to backfire forcing all 4 of them to return. The Bull Demon King, angry at the series of events, tries to kill Joker while Xiang Xiang chases after Zixia, only to have Zixia captured while Qingxia was forced out of Zixia's body. The Bull Demon King's rampaging was soon interrupted by the arrival of his wife, Princess Iron Fan and Red Child, only for him and Red Kid to find out the Princess had an affair with the Monkey King, causing him to punish Joker and Zixia by forcing them to marry at the ceremony.

Meanwhile, in Heaven, the Jade Emperor was shocked to find out the Sealed Book had changed, forcing him to free Six-Ear Monkey from the Great Oven, and accidentally revealing to him that the Longevity Monk is the Monkey and Qingxia's son and finding out that Qingxia knew everything about the mistake in the Sealed Book. Thus, the Jade Emperor allowed Qingxia to repossess her body and let Six-Eared Monkey to go rescue his son while still under the guise of the Monkey King. Six-Eared Monkey crashed the wedding, revealed that he started the affair with the Princess, while maintaining "the fact" that Joker is not the Monkey King, and started battling with the entire Bull household, with Qingxia arriving later rescue Zixia from Xiang Xiang and trading places with Zixia in order for the prophecy to remain true, with a few changes. The battle ended up with the Bull siblings finally reconciled as Xiang Xiang being forced to consume her brother just so to have a fighting chance against Six-Eared Monkey. The Heavenly Army arrived to provide backup for Six-Eared Monkey, Qingxia sustaining a blow in the process. As he saw this, Six-Eared Monkey breaks free from Xiang Xiang's grasp to grab Qingxia while the Heavenly Army and General Li Jing dealt the final blow and sealed Xiang Xiang once and for all.

Five hundred years later, Six-Eared Monkey accompanied his son and his disciples on the pilgrimage, while Joker and Zixia watch on after kissing on the top of the wall, mentioning about Six-Eared wanting to be reunited with Qingxia as quickly as possible. One day in Heaven later (10 years later on Earth), Longevity Monk became a Buddha while his parents stay together as the Wick for the Buddha's Lamp, only for their day interrupted by the Jade Emperor saying that the Sealed Book changed again.

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Chinese_Odyssey_Part_Three

Link: N/A

[shakespearesdaughters]

“A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.” ― James Joyce, Dubliners

[freetalessimian]

Quick question that no one will know. WHERE TF ARE THEY??

You can already see weapons. Theres also an arch, so maybe the mountain used to have a building???

I just want to know where it is and the lore 😭 why did Mac choose this mountain, whats the history behind it. Was it just because it was secluded? I can’t imagine it’s THAT far from the city because Mk would have been more cautious if so right?

(Yeah ill just go on a field trip with my new sketchy mentor to who knows where😄 thats not a terrible idea at all. Im the Monkie Kid)

Oh yay, dead people already, great signs. Also did Mac make them climb all those stairs? Man, he was really pushing Mk to his limit. Did he climb with Mk? Was it just awkward silence or was it a checkpoint thing like a video game 😭 just occasionally hes there again like (Great job just a little further 🙂)

I NEED TO KNOW. What battle happened here? Was it from the jttw, or just a random battle? Was it specific to Macaque or Wukong in anyway? Theres swords and spears littering the ground. And skeletons. It was definitely a battle ground. I believe we’ve only seen a few of these? So they’re might be clues in flashbacks?

Perhaps its Sandy’s or maybe Macaque’s? Both have spears in the ground. Though we don’t have many clues as to where the battles took place besides that Sandys flack back happened on a mountain but the place probably wasn’t a factor as it was triggered by the situation. And Macaques you can see a mountain range

I couldn’t really find anything that matches. However if this were the case and THE battle really happened on this mountain it’d be quite interesting, but would surprisingly give me a lot to work with to make a timeline.

For instance if either battles happened on that mountain then it would have had to of been after the main jttw, or after Sun Wukongs circlet was removed. As I believe it is closer to his mountain, or at least the city. Which he would not have been near during the journey westwards, as we know his island is in the east, near the Dragon of the East’s palace.

I think Wukong in lmk either continued the pilgrimage without the circlet or they wrote most of the scenes to take place after, like the Samadhi fire. As we can see the group is still together, and Tripiaka is still their master. But Wukong is NOT wearing the circlet, so this probably takes place after. So that means other chapters could have been rewritten to be after the main journey west, and the groups just stuck together? Or perhaps get back together to do errands for the celestial realm like in this scene with Nezha.

Its not a crazy assumption to think that Macaques defeat and possibly death took place after the main jttw or when Sun Wukong returned home as we see Dbks defeat/death also took place after. Perhaps Wukong was just tying up loose ends 😃

Oh I ran out of photo room but In Macaque’s flashback Wukong isn’t wearing the circlet there either.

Makes me wonder just how much of the journey to the west they altered in Lego Monkie Kid, was the Lady Bone Demon’s defeat even in the early chapters? Was Macaques death before or after hers? THERE IS SO MANY LORE QUESTIONS, That if I got the answers to them It would change even more of my inner timeline than you’d expect.

[wordsmithic]

Alexander the Great and the Water of Life

The ancient folklore tradition around Alexander the Great

The vast conquests of the Macedonian king Alexander the Great quickly inspired the formation and diffusion of legendary material about his deity, journeys, and tales. These appeared shortly after his death, and some may have already begun forming during his lifetime.

This storytelling tradition was marked by the Greek work «Βίος Αλεξάνδρου του Μακεδόνος και Πράξεις Αυτού» ("The Life of Alexander the Macedonian and His Deeds"), where the mythical adventures of the formidable military commander are listed.

In that work, Alexander doesn't merely conquer Asia, but also campaigns westward, reaches the land of the blessed, encounters Amazons, monsters, rivers where sand flows instead of water, lands without sunlight, gymnosophist philosophers, giants, dog-headed men, people with six legs and three eyes, one-footed little men with sheep-like tails, Indians, Turks, Armenians, Brahmins, and countless other tribes, he flies through the skies and dives into the depths of the sea in a submarine!

This novel was probably written in the 3rd century AD and was later tampered with under the name of Callisthenes (around 1054–1055). Four Greek versions (a, b, c, and e) have survived, followed by countless other translations and adaptations — initially in antiquity into Persian, Armenian, Syriac, and Latin. During the Middle Ages and beyond, it was translated into countless languages. If you are mainly exposed to Western European literature, you might know it as "Historia Alexandri Magni" by Pseudo-Callisthenes.

Alexander the Great for Greeks in the Roman, Late Roman (Byzantine), and Ottoman periods

In the Byzantine world, stories about Alexander that stemmed from the Romance of Pseudo-Callisthenes were particularly popular. Romance means "Novel", and in the original Greek word is "Μυθιστόρημα" (Mythistorema). It literally translates to "Storytelling of Myths".

These stories were adapted to suit the circumstances of the time. For example, Alexander was portrayed as a model Christian emperor or even an apostle of Christianity. Elements from Biblical and medieval traditions were incorporated into the narratives, alongside ancient Greek and other traditions.

In general, based on the various references by Byzantine authors, such as those found in the so-called Mirrors for Princes and encomiastic speeches, it can be concluded that Alexander served as a role model for many Byzantine emperors as a virtuous king. At the same time, he was promoted as a Greek hero and a cultural point of reference for Byzantine identity, especially through the tradition of the Alexander Mythistorema.

"Διήγησις του Αλεξάνδρου του Μακεδόνος" ("Mythistorema of Alexander the Macedonian") was one of the most popular secular readings among the Byzantine Greeks. It also existed in verse form, most notably in the Byzantine multi-verse poem (epic) Βίος Αλεξάνδρου ("Life of Alexander"), which contains 6,133 verses and is dated either to the early 13th century or to the year 1388.

A notable example is the depiction of Alexander in Byzantine iconography of the Ανάληψης του Αλέξανδρου ("Ascension of Alexander"), some monumental versions of which were even used in the interior or exterior decoration of Byzantine churches.

(Alexander here represents the “Kingdom of the Greeks”, one of the four kingdoms that predate the end of times according to interpretations of the prophet Daniel’s interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar II’s dream.)

The tradition of the Alexander Mythistorema continued into the period of Ottoman rule, with numerous editions of the prose version known as "Phyllada of Megalexandros" as well as the verse adaptation known as "Rimada" (from ρίμα = verse). The Phyllada of Megalexandros circulated after 1680 in the Greek vernacular, a prose adaptation of earlier works based on the Hellenistic 3rd-century novel of Pseudo-Callisthenes.

A minor saint of the Greek Orthodox Christian church, the ascetic Sisoes, has been depicted in hagiographies above the open tomb of Alexander the Great for hundreds of years.

In the Ottoman period, beyond the scholars, even simple, semi-literate Greeks, the reading public of the many editions of the Phyllada, viewed him as a symbol of resistance or even redemption against the Ottoman Empire, especially in the second half of the 18th century, during the Greek Age of Enlightenment.

The "Immortal Water" story

The story of the "Water of Immortality" does not appear in the original Greek version of Pseudo-Callisthenes but emerges in later Jewish, Christian, and Islamic traditions. In all versions, Alexander fails to attain immortality, emphasizing that mortality is the destiny of humankind.

The Persian national poet Ferdowsi, in his epic Shahnameh (The Book of Kings), presents Alexander as the legitimate king of Persia, a mythical figure who reached the ends of the earth in search of the “Fountain of Youth.” Later Persian authors connected him with philosophy, portraying him as seeking immortality in a symposium with Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle.

Islamic-era Persian accounts of the Alexander legend, known as the Iskandarnameh, combined the Pseudo-Callisthenes and Syriac material about Alexander, some of which is found in the Qur'an, with Sasanian Persian ideas about Alexander the Great. This is an ironic outcome considering Zoroastrian Persia's hostility to the national enemy who finished the Achaemenid Empire, but was also directly responsible for centuries of Persian domination by Hellenistic "foreign rulers".

However, Alexander is sometimes not depicted as a warrior and conqueror, but as a seeker of truth who eventually finds the Ab-i Hayat (Water of Life). Persian sources on the Alexander legend devised a mythical genealogy for him whereby his mother was a concubine of Darius II, making him the half-brother of the last Achaemenid king, Darius III. By the 12th century, such important writers as Nezami Ganjavi were making him the subject of their epic poems.

Some scholars believe, based on corresponding references in the Alexander Mythestorima, that "Dhul-Qarnayn" (Δίκερως), mentioned in the Qur’an, is in fact Alexander the Great. According to this tradition, Alexander is a heroic figure who built a wall to protect the world from the peoples of Gog and Magog. He then traveled across the world in search of the “Water of Life and Immortality”, and ultimately became a prophet.

This legend of Alexander and the Water of Life, most likely found its way (one could say "circled back") to the Greeks with the Ottoman occupation. The Greeks, in turn, merged this tale with stories from their own tradition.

The Immortal Water and the Mermaid sister of Alexander the Great

Alexander the Great’s sister, Thessalonike of Macedon, was a remarkable figure. Outliving her half-brother, she would go on to become the queen of Macedon through marriage to one of Alexander’s generals, Cassander. The second biggest city in Greece is named after her, given its name by Cassander to honor his wife. For the real history of Queen Thessalonike, check this article.

According to the legends, Alexander the Great’s pursuit of the Fountain of Immortality led him to acquire a flask containing "the immortal water" (το αθάνατο νερό). To acquire it, he passed between two moving mountains and fought the Dragon who protected it.

Variations of the tale suggest that Alexander either used the water to wash his sister’s hair, granting her immortality, or inadvertently used it to nourish a wild onion plant, failing to inform Thessalonike of its contents. Another version says that Alexander kept the water secret from Thessaloniki, and she drank it without knowing what it was. Due to Thessalonike leaving no water for him, Alexander cursed her to turn into a Mermaid. Others say that Thessalonike sought to end her own life out of shame by falling into the sea, and then her transformation occurred.

In any case, the Macedonian queen became an immortal mermaid who questions voyaging sailors. Every encounter with sailors bore a consistent query: "Ζει ο βασιλιάς Αλέξανδρος;" ("Is King Alexander alive?”). Only the correct response of "Ζει και βασιλεύει, και τον κόσμο κυριεύει!" (“He lives and reigns and conquers the world”) would appease her, allowing the ship and its crew to sail away safely. Any other reply would awaken her wrath, determined to send the vessel and its sailors to the depths below.

The same motif exists in some Slavic areas who were formerly occupied by the Byzantines and the Ottomans. For example, in the Bulgarian folk songs, there is the legend of Tsar Aleksandar who seeks the Immortal Water. Alexander finds the immortal water behind after walking three days in darkness, behind two mountains that open and close. He leaves the bottle with immortal water to his sister, who breaks it by accident. Alexander chases his sister to the sea, where she escapes and turns into a dolphin.

Thank you for reading this far! The folios presented here are Greek, with Persian and Arabic in the margins, and the rest of the images are from modern Greek art. There are also three hagiographies.

Please reblog if you liked this, so more learn about Alexander's adventures!

[horrorcitos]

Six years ago I met a gorgeous woman at this fuckass art festival my friends dragged me to in Marfa (talk about a place that insists upon itself). She was leggy and sun-kissed and had braided hair so black it shone raven-blue in the light and eyes like molasses; deep, sticky-sweet pools of divine inky darkness that I fell into and still have not managed to crawl back out of. This was a passing stop—the first—on my journey westward, a season of renewal and reckoning on the open road. My life had imploded a few months prior and I was faced with an immutable truth: I did not like the person I had become, but I desperately wanted to be better.

We were inseparable from that day on. A week turned into a summer; that life-changing, soul-affirming summer where we slept in the bed of my truck under the desert stars, surfed the icy Pacific waters of the Central Coast, slept in her childhood room in Boyle Heights, made our way north to explore the old-growth forests of Oregon, watched the orcas play from a tiny Washington island, cried witnessing the most wonderful sunrise in Glacier.

That seasons changed and still, she was there. She met my family over the holidays and moved into my treasured, colorful casita in Avenida Guadalupe that winter. Months turned to years and we built a home together, built a life. I started and finished grad school. She started and finished medical school. Things were good. They were so good.

And then, suddenly, we were at a crossroads. She was offered a residency up north and I was offered a dream job back east. We tried it from every angle and couldn’t figure out a way for us to move forward without introducing potential resentment to our dynamic. It was impossible. Impassable. Neither of us could stomach the idea of long-distance with no end date, and so that was that. All at once. One cord severed, two hearts separated.

That was ten months back. It still doesn’t feel so.

I know I am writing this from a place of loss so gargantuan it has at times sucked the air from every room I step into without her. But the truth is that right now is the best my life has ever been, the happiest I’ve ever felt. I am at peace with my own gaze when I meet it in the mirror. I have built myself a future so beautiful and she helped lay the bricks.

I’ll be driving through Marfa in a few weeks and, in spite of my disdain, I think I’ll buy a mediocre overpriced iced lavender latte at The Sentinel. There is something to be said for returning to the place you fell in radical, revolutionary love. Not love born from circumstance, like with the girl I left behind in our decaying hometown, two late bloomers tied together by shared teenage turmoil. But love sowed from the seed of a random chance meeting and the choice, made day after grinding day, to move through the world together, as one. Until we couldn’t. Until the final choice we made together, an ending, was too made out of love.

There was magic there once, in that place otherwise devoid of sincerity. I felt it. I lived it. Perhaps some aching part of me hopes against hope that still, just maybe, the magic remains.

[miller-lookforthe-lite]

steps: part one

joel miller x f!reader

rating: M

words: 6.6k

summary: Westward bound, and your steps are uncertain. Your hands shake, and it's hard to keep the food down. Joel thinks he might know why. (or, how accidents sometimes lead us to our fates.)

tags/warnings: unplanned/(unwanted?) pregnancy, thoughts and discussion of abortion, vomit, canon-typical violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort (u already know what it issss) - please heed the warnings, as these may be triggering to some! MDNI

read on ao3

a/n: here she is boys here she is world. My first TLOU and my first x reader, all in one. this one means something to me, hope it does to you too. part two coming soon

The road is twisting around a bend when you make Joel pull over. He eases as gently as he can off the asphalt, the dense, looming forest closing in around you in the twilight. You swing open the door and barely stick your boot in the grass before you’re emptying the contents of your stomach into the ditch. The skin of your throat burns and your nose reeks, the scent of it is everywhere. Hands on your knees, you heave until nothing is left. You wipe off your mouth with the back of your hand and catch a glimpse of an eagle high above in glowing sunset, what’s left of it to see anyway. You put your hands on your hips, give yourself a second to breathe. In and out, in and out before you have to look at the crease between Joel’s eyebrows, the question hidden under his tongue.

You turn back around and pull yourself up into the beat-up black pickup. Ellie’s faint snores from the backseat almost impress you, her ability to sleep through a loud bodily function steadfastly enduring throughout your journey. A light breeze trickles its way over your spine before you can shut the door and your hair stands on end. You reach for the seatbelt and chance a glance at Joel. He’s making no move to shift back into drive. He frowns at you with that question in his gaze, his wondering brown eyes flicking between your own like he might be about to crack open his dry lips and ask, but he’s snapped out of his reverie by a gunshot off in the woods. He wastes no time, throwing the truck back into gear and pushing onward down the road, resting his hand on your denim-clad, gooseflesh thigh.

Your destination is Wyoming, some Western mountain-filled land that you’d never seen, but had come to know well through old faded maps and silent wishes in your companions’ eyes. Weeks ago, before everything had happened, before Ellie, before losing Tess, Joel had confided in you in a rare moment of quiet that he had always wanted to visit. “The Grand Tetons,” he had muttered darkly. “Thought they might be nice. Guess Tommy did too.” You hope it’s nice. You try hard to tell yourself this, that the beauty of the natural world will make up for its horrors, that there’s something beyond shuffling Infected and the Raider country you currently roam through. You picture a haven in your most secret dreams; maybe a bunker, secluded, serene. Stocked with nonperishables. Perfect for weathering a wretched existence.

Sometimes you convince yourself the truck was a bad idea. It’s loud and gasoline isn’t always so easy to come by, but you’re still too far away. Several weeks skirting broken and ancient infrastructure, and you’ve made it west but not to the West, not the mountains, not the cold like you know must be coming. It’s still too warm, the trees are too deciduous. You have the ridiculous impulse to fan yourself.

You lean your head back against the seat to let your fantasies play out behind your eyelids. There you see Ellie, chattering away with some long-forgotten board game under her arm and plenty of food in her belly. Joel, shaking his head but with eyes glistening joyfully. You, not having to pretend that you aren’t terrified, not running, not pleading, not shaking. Not sick.

A gunshot strikes through the air not far away, pulling you from your daydream. You glance over at Joel, but his eyes stay firmly on the road and his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.

“Are they close?” Ellie whispers from the backseat, and you start, not even realizing she had stirred. You shoot her your most half-hearted smile and reach your hand back. She threads her fingers through yours absentmindedly.

“We’re okay. We got plenty of gas left. We’ll be out of here before they can even shoot again.”

Ellie’s eyes are wide, she wants so desperately to believe you, and you want so desperately for her to believe. To give her this, one breath of relief.

“Okay,” she murmurs, not releasing your fingers until the night has shifted once again to day.

-

“Come on!” laughs your brother, egging you on from his perch across the rooftops. He and your younger sister are soaked through, having already braved the icy downpour, the leap across buildings. You laugh along with him until you shift your gaze to where he’s looking. The other crumbling rooftop is empty. Your sister’s not there.

“Brandon, what…?” When you turn your head to look at him, he is gone.

You blink, and you’re in his fancy new office in the FEDRA headquarters. He’s older, just been promoted to some kind of private. He’s ruffling your hair and you’re mad, you know you were trying to say something important, something that would help him, and he’s brushing you off again. “Fuck off, asshole!” You can see the force of your words hammer through the air as you say them. The blast blows Brandon off his feet and he hits the wall, his head snapping to the side. He hits the floor with a thump and lays there without moving.

You open your mouth to shout but your sister’s face is in front of you. You’re in a back alley in Boston, it’s cold, so cold, and you’re so worried. “What did I tell you?” You know to say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking a bit.

“This is the right thing. This is right,” she insists, and your heart sinks.

“This is stupid,” you hiss. “They’ll kill you, Katie. FEDRA will kill you. Whatever war Marlene thinks she’s fighting - it’s not yours to fight - it’s not yours to die for —”

A harsh laugh splits from her throat, and you’re shocked to hear such bitterness pour from the mouth of the little girl you helped to raise. “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I’ll die anyways, it should be for something, it should be —”

She was too loud. She raised her voice too much. She gave away your position. A shot rings out and the heavy weight of your sister collapsing knocks you to the ground.

You’re lying on the ground with Brandon. Dust chokes the air. Something heavy lies across your legs. You push as hard as you can, but it doesn’t budge. You grunt with the effort, but the thick air fills your lungs and you gag. You blink soot out of your eyes and turn your head to Brandon. He’s so still. Whatever’s lying on your legs is almost completely covering him. A trickle of red spills from down the corner of his mouth. Your lungs are filled with ash, dust, panic, terror. You try to say his name, but your lips can’t move. Brandon, your baby brother. Brandon. Just as you hear the big metal object creak, shifting for the first time, the air clears.

You’re standing in a dark hallway, dilapidated wallpaper peeling into its yellow crest all around you. Sobs and groans echo throughout the dim, and your feet carry you to the doorway. A make-shift hospital bed, a woman lying in it. You creep forward to see her face, to see your mother without her breath and her blood standing still. You reach for her, at the same time scurrying away, as far away as you can get.

You jolt awake with a scream, deep and entrenching. There’s a hard, calloused hand over your mouth in an instant, and you vaguely register that Joel is hissing at you to stay quiet, but you can’t control the wracking of your body, the panic coursing through your veins. You come back to yourself slowly, realizing there’s no blood on your hands, just Joel’s arms around you, just a thrashing heartbeat that threatens to beat you to a pulp. You’re pressed up against his chest in the bed of the truck, Ellie on your other side whispering frantically at you to calm down. It’s still dark out, but you can hear machine gun fire in the distance. You twist your head to look at him, reach out your hand to touch him, need to make sure he won’t disappear too. He’s real and solid, and his eyes glitter with apology in the moonlight. Ellie presses into your other side, arms coming around you in her sweet child’s embrace, and you’re ashamed that she’s had to witness your despair, that she is the one who shoulders your burden. Joel takes his hand off your mouth when he’s sure you won’t make any more sound, but holds you closer still, like he knows what you dreamed and is afraid of the same thing.

-

You met Joel for the first time when he was asking for directions. A weathered, haunted look in his eye, like he’d rather be doing anything other than asking the girl distributing rations which way around the construction detour to the South End, but a Boston native like yourself couldn’t resist the urge to demonstrate your own knowledge. That’s how you unknowingly wound up leading him straight to Robert’s new basecamp setup, an itch creeping up your spine once you realized what his intentions were. Stupid, you had thought, stupid to think nothing bad could happen in broad daylight, that he was beautiful so he was safe. So stupid.

It was there, when one of Robert’s fucking goons tried to rob the two of you at gunpoint, that Joel realized you had extra rations in your bag, rations that you had stolen from the distribution center — “They’re for my sister,” you protested —and that you had something more to offer him than just the best way to Richmond Street.

You set up a deal of sorts, after he had wiped his hands of your assailant’s blood. You stashed two extra cans per shift in your pack, and brought them to him. In exchange, he kept the gnashing teeth of the city’s smugglers’ off of Brandon’s back, offering your little brother a protection that his FEDRA school never could.

It was through this deal that you met Tess, that you had loved her, too — She took care of things in a way you had always wished you could, but without fucking up, like you did. She was calm, and powerful, and knew she was right, always. Joel looked up to her, too, even if he was too hurt to ever show it.

When she had asked you to come on a special run outside the walls, you were hesitant — several years into your partnership with the smugglers, and you’d only ever been outside of Boston once, to make a drop in Lincoln and get to meet that charming Frank that you’d heard grinning over the radio so many times. It was important, she insisted, a cargo like nothing they’d ever transported. A kid. You said yes, mostly because by this time you didn’t have anyone left to take care of, not the way you longed for, the way you knew how to.

You loved Ellie from the start, loved her spirit, her bite, so much like Katie in her fierce determination, and the ache of remembering didn’t hurt so much as Ellie’s grin helped. You guided her down the road like you knew you were meant to do - to give, to lead, to provide. Tess was more hesitant, but would always answer to Ellie’s curiosity, and always with kindness underneath her brusk.

Joel, of course, didn’t say much. Even after years of handing him can after can of crushed tomatoes, of deliberately brushing up against his fingers just to feel that shock of cool air when he pulled back, he didn’t even say much to you. You knew some things; you knew that he was from Texas, that he had had a brother who used to work with him and Tess, but who left. Who called once but didn’t any more.

You wound up knowing more about Ellie than Joel, strange given the amount of time you had passed with each of them, so much more with Joel, but so much fuller with Ellie. Her secret, her golden Immunity hung its mantle like an axe above each of your throats. It made Joel angry - it made Tess hope. It just made you wonder.

When Tess died, lighting her own pyre to ensure your safety, and Ellie’s and Joel’s, you felt even stronger the pull to shield your traveling companions. Tess was another mark against you, and you wouldn’t let her, or whoever was watching you fuck all these things up, see you fail again. So you tucked Ellie delicately under your wing, and she came willingly, so desperate to be talked to and known. You tried with Joel, too, but your urges competed. He wanted to protect, you wanted to control — you exchanged heated words at the hardest of times, but the journey didn’t stop for your obstinance, so they faded away as the Eastern coastal plains rolled behind you.

—

The End of the World chases you so all you have left to chase is euphoria. It’s some desperation to feel wanted, you know, and you’re sure that he’s just desperate to feel anything at all. That’s how this thing between you started, sparked from argument tinder and nurtured by lonely swollen nightfall.

After all this time, you know he cares about you. You know. He loves you. It’s clear in the way he’ll step in front of you when he perceives a threat, how he always makes sure you and Ellie have taken your first bite before he takes his. He loves the way a leader loves, by leading.

But he doesn’t love you like you loved him, not like when you led him down a Boston street like you knew the world, like when he pushed a bullet from its path to you on that first day, and every second and shattered heartbeat in between.

So you chase this parallel sensation as hard as you can. You chase his fingers, his tongue, his quiet exhales behind trees and in the dark, across a clearing, behind the truck. You try to pretend, however long it takes to find release, that somewhere beneath his rough and his scorn he could feel something for you.

—

Joel pops open a bag of stale, questionable chips and the smell explodes throughout the cab of the truck. He fishes out a few with fingers long and thick and the holds the rest of the bag over to you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at it. You turn your face away and put your hand over your mouth. You think you might vomit again, but Joel’s furrowed brow, his telltale sign of anxiety, appears unbidden in your mind. Nothing’s wrong, really, nothing is, so you hold it in.

You hear him give the bag a little shake. “Hello? Are you gonna take some?”

You manage to look back over at him, but can’t open your mouth lest the scent hits your taste buds. You shake your head mutely.

He frowns. “You have to eat something.”

“Not now,” You wave away, like your insides aren’t churning.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Ellie declares, swooping in to snatch the bag and chomping loudly on her prize.

—

“What is that? Over there?” Ellie sticks her head between the two of you in the front to point over the front dash. There’s a strange movement in the trees, a foreign shape marring the landscape. As you get closer, it comes into view. Two figures sway back and forth amongst the trees.

“Drive,” you breathe. “Keep going.”

“What is it?” Ellie demands, a current of panic running thick through her voice. “What’s—”

“Stop,” Joel says harshly. “Ellie, don’t look.” He presses his foot firmly to the peddle, but he can’t drive anywhere but past them. Bile rises in your throat. You hear him swear softly when the girl clearly refuses, but you can’t make yourself look away, either.

The image burns into your mind long after you’ve passed them, and you’ve crossed state lines, and the sun has set. Two bodies, suspended from rope tied round their necks. One is a young girl, small body, youthful cheeks, hanging dead from a tree. The body next to her is her older carbon copy, it must be her mother. They dangle in the wind.

Ellie finds her voice, however hoarse, sometime later. “We should have stopped.”

Joel grunts. “No time.”

Your mouth is dry. You say nothing.

Ellie sniffs in the backseat, and you can’t help but feel that it’s another mark against you.

-

You’re so fucking tired of this shit. Every day’s the same, you wake up and think you’re gonna hurl. You smell anything other than clean air and feel the same. You almost can’t remember what it feels like to be not-nauseous, to be free in your body and have it do the things you want it to do.

You just want to feel something good, anything ever again, so you push Joel down in the backseat early one morning while Ellie still sleeps outside and cover his mouth with yours. He don't complain, seemingly content to lie back against the ripped plastic seats and massage the skin at your hips with his thumbs. You sigh into him, convince yourself that this is what it felt like before your body betrayed you, before you couldn’t move without the urge to empty your stomach. His tongue moves with yours, against yours, for yours - you don't know. You push your hips down against him, more for yourself, the rough denim of your jeans pressing wickedly between your legs. He drags a rough hand up under your shirt and tugs aside your flimsy bra, squeezing your breast in his hand.

A sore, tugging pain radiates from where his hand squeezes, and you moan into his mouth. He brings his other hand up and squeezes both of your breasts, harder, rolling the tips between his fingers, and you think you might burst. They feel heavier hanging off of you than they ought to, more burdensome than you recall. The pain builds and builds with your panic as he continues to knead - if you tells him it hurts, he’ll stop. You need him not to stop.

You grab his shoulders to pull him up into a sitting position and untangle yourself from him to turn around. You shuck off your jeans as best as you can in the cramped cabin.

You brace yourself against the window, the dawn light just beginning to filter through the trees. His hand slips down to hold you, wet and wanting, and his teeth scrape the top of your spine. “Good?” He asks, like he somehow always does. You want to say no, not good, so bad, but you’re all that’ll make it better, you’re it, I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re right, please don’t stop —

You don't trust yourself to look back at him. “Yes,” you breathe.

He lines up with you, sweetly mouthing at the strip of skin your neckline exposes. You try to pretend the pain in your chest is gone when he slides into you from behind. This is how he likes to do it — no faces, as many clothes as possible, as few words. He’ll check that you’re okay, and then silently rush to his finish, blessedly pushing you over the end with him. For once, today, you’re grateful for his preference. This way he can’t see the tears you furiously swipe away.

—

You come across a small market store not far from the Missouri border. It doesn’t take long to scope the area out. There aren’t any people, just like there isn’t much food. Some gum and pre-packaged cakes that make Ellie scrunch her nose in distaste are on a bottom shelf in the back, so you throw them in the bag. It’s not much, but you’ve only got crackers and a few cans left in the truck. You’re not so much able to refuse anything. The thought of eating the cakes sends your stomach for a spiral, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. Not here. Not now.

Ellie notices, of course. “Woah… are you okay?”

You force your eyes open and give her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. Just dizzy. Let’s get going.”

Right as you’re about to leave, another truck screeches out of the trees and into the parking lot. The headlights shine through the glass door straight into your eyes. Joel sucks in a breath. The truck pulls to a stop not far from yours and four men get out, all covering their faces, one with a machine gun pointed towards the sky.

“Fuck,” you whisper, Joel grabbing your arm and whisking you to the back before you finish speaking. Ellie’s already crouched down behind an empty shelf, her lips set in grim determination but her grip on her pack shaking.

Joel taps you to get your attention, jerking his head towards a back door. He moves slowly, gesturing for you and Ellie to follow. The shift of his jeans and the crack of his knees make your heart beat even faster. The bell above the door rings and heavy footsteps follow into the space. The three of you freeze, and through the gaps in the metal shelving, you see them.

Tall, brutish. All four armed, and deadly. Their neanderthal brays pierce your eardrums.

“Who’s here?” Calls one while the others cackle and titter. Right, the truck. They would have seen it.

“Come out, come out…” One of them jokes, knocking over a display by the door with unnecessary grandiose.

Ellie clutches onto your sleeve, her wide eyes begging you for an answer. Joel’s the one that gives it to her. He points at you and Ellie, then down at the ground. You stay. He points to himself as he pulls his rifle around his front, then over to where the mean are kicking around the front counter. I go. He locks eyes with you and nods his head to Ellie, then the back door. Get her out of here.

You nod, a calm determination washing over you, dampening your racing heart. You grasp Ellie’s hand in your own and count silently in your head as he sneaks towards the Raiders on bended knee, though you’re not sure what for. He starts to lift his gun, your signal to pounce on the back door, when suddenly a tidal wave of nausea pours over you, dousing you from head to toe, swirling your insides and turning the room upside down. You don’t stand when you’re supposed to, not when there’s shouting and gunshots and Ellie yelling and tugging you towards the exit. It’s hard to see, it’s hard to breathe. All you can feel is the acid rising to your lips.

The three of you barely make it out alive.

-

He slams his foot on the gas petal and the tires screech as you careen out of the parking lot. You stay turned around watching the world disappear behind you, ignoring Ellie’s eyes that bounce between your face and the trail of dust you leave behind. You fly down the road, faster than he’s dared to go before. After several miles, you let yourself collapse back into your seat, facing the front. You let out a breath, trying to focus on a single point on the dashboard in front of you, trying to quell the dizziness, this sensation that the world is spinning off of its axis.

“I don’t think they’re following us,” Ellie supplies. She’s quiet for a minute, then adds, “they won’t, right?”

Joel don't reply. You chance a glance over at him to find him fuming, his jaw locked in place and his eyes glued to the road. His arms bulge like they do when he’s tensed up and not even realized it. His grip on the steering wheel threatens to snap the plastic.

His ire fans the flames of your own. Something wild in you pushes you forward, nudges you to ruffle the lion’s mane, some alien urge that you’ve no name for. “Think we’ve got bigger fish to fry in the car with us,” you mutter.

You can hear his jaw pop. “Oh, like a delinquent that can’t stand on her own two feet?” You flinch like you’ve been stung. You want to sting him, too. “What, you’re just gonna pass out every time we’re in a life-or-death situation?”

“I didn’t pass out,” you snap. “I just got dizzy. It wasn’t a big deal, you asshole.”

“Until it was,” he seethes, still careening down the road. “Until you had to run, with her, and you couldn’t fuckin’ see straight. You didn’t think to say something beforehand?”

“What would you have done differently, then?” You hiss, suddenly overwhelmed, not ready to be on guard again so soon. He’s saying things that make sense. You’re losing. Again. “Asked them nicely to leave us alone?”

“Might’a left you in the truck, might’a had a different plan if I knew the person I was relying on was gonna choke, fucking Christ —”

Your heart clenches at the word rely so you scoff to hide it. “Fuck off.” What if he hadn’t been able to take them down, to get you all out of there? What if you had cost Ellie her life? You’re raising your voice and you know that won’t help anything, but your vision is still swimming and adrenaline is still coursing through you and you don't know what else to do with that combination.

“I will not!” Joel’s shouting, and you start. He’s never shouted at you, not once, not even on that first trip to Lincoln when you almost got caught sneaking back into the QZ, not even when you survived and Tess didn’t, not even when you made him give himself to you over and over. His foot is letting up off the gas petal and the truck slows down, like he knows if he puts his foot down the way he wants he won’t be able to stop and he’ll drive you all off the edge of the world. “You got sick a few weeks back, too. What, you got bit or somethin’ too? Think I’m worth tellin’ about an aneurysm, a heart attack—”

“It’s only sometimes,” You snap, shaking with rage or sickness, you don't know. “I’ll be fine in thirty fucking minutes. It keeps happening.”

His foot is on the brake, a sudden screech against the road as the truck skids to a stop. You jerk back in your seat. “What the fuck, Joel?” Ellie exclaims.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. “We need to get further away—"

He stares straight ahead at the road, chest heaving, face impassible. “How long?” He breathes.

You glares. “How long what?”

“How long has it been goin’ on?”

“I don’t fucking know, Joel, a couple weeks? I—”

He doesn’t listen to the rest of your sentence. He’s out of the truck, slamming the door behind him before you can blink.

You glance back at Ellie, who looks deeply uncomfortable, and sigh. “Gimme a second.”

You unbuckle and follow him outside, a few yards into the treeline, urging your shaky legs onward. “Joel, get back in the fucking truck, this is insane —”

“You won’t eat.” His interruption is pained as he stops in his tracks, face pointedly looking out at the trees, not at you, not at you. “You’re not eatin’. And there’s the nausea, then soreness, dizziness -"

“What’s your fucking point?”

He takes a moment to respond, jaw working itself to bits. When he finally turns to look at you, you realize his expression isn’t as stoic as you thought. “When did you have your last period?”

Your heart stops beating in your chest. You sneer to hide it.

“Girls who don’t eat don’t get their period, dumbass-”

“When?” He demands.

Your veins are full of icy frost, not blood, blood would move and cycle and make you feel alive, this just makes you feel still, frozen, gone. You close your eyes. “I - I don’t - I don’t know. I don’t know. But it hasn’t come, for a while. It hasn’t come.”

After a moment of silence you hear the sound of Joel moving back to the truck, closing his door more gently behind him this time. You don’t remember your ghost feet floating back to your side, not wanting to find out what would happen if you kept him waiting too long. Your fingers shake as you buckle back in. Ellie, for maybe the first time since you’ve met her, doesn’t say a word. The world begins to move forward again. You grip the door next to you so tightly you think your fingers might fall off. You don’t remember falling asleep like that, but when you do it’s a sweet, welcome relief.

—

When you wake up, it’s dark out, but the road outside is wider than you expected it to be, having stayed mostly on backroads and service paths. The only light comes from the truck’s headlights and the moon shining up above.

“Where are we?” You murmur, stretching out the aching muscles of your back. Ellie seems to have joined you in slumber, slumped awkwardly against the door behind you.

Joel’s hand slides over the top of the steering wheel. “Nearby Kansas City,” he offers.

You become more clearly awake at this. “The QZ? Why do you wanna head so close to it?”

He rubs the steering wheel again, drawing from it some kind of power to speak. “Figure we stash the truck somewhere, enroll at the gate as refugees. Get what we need, get out.”

“What we need?” You’re still confused.

“A doctor,” he says. “It’s nearby and you need a doctor. So.”

You’re at a loss. You can’t keep up with the implications, with the unspoken, terrifying truth of the question he’s asking you, he’s been asking you. You open your mouth, but the sounds are weak to your own ears. “But — it’ll take too — Wyoming, we have to — and Ellie — and Tommy —”

“We’ll get to Wyoming,” he promises. “First we check on you.”

Something bubbles up in your chest and you shift in your seat, too afraid to ask but too afraid to not know. “Are you angry?” You venture, keeping your eyes on what little of the road you can see in front of you.

You can see him puff air through his lips from the corner of your vision. “I do generally like to know about things before they became an immediate issue, so next time —”

“No,” You say too quickly, and he stops, looking over at you. “I mean, were you mad about - you know, if I am” — you choke on your own spit, can’t bring yourself to say the word — “If I am, are you angry with me?”

Your voice sounds too small to your own ears, this isn’t the You you know, but you don't remember how to be that girl anyways, don't remember how to survive without him. If he’s not with you, and if what he thinks is happening is happening, this could be it for you, this could be his final straw, too much baggage, not giving enough, not —

“You, what? Listen, no, I don’t —” He takes his foot off the gas. The truck slowly but surely rolls to a stop, so starkly contrasting the abruptness of its earlier halt. He shifts the car to park, not even bothering to pull off the road like he usually does when you stop for the night. You can feel him looking at you but you can’t bring yourself to look back.

You sit like that in the quiet for a minute before he speaks. “I’m afraid,” he confesses to you like he worries the night sky will hear his secret. “I’m afraid and I’m sorry that I made you think I was angry. I’m not angry. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. You understand? Nothin’."

You don't realize you’ve begun to cry until his arms are reaching over the center console to pull you into his lap. A mess of limbs and you find yourself between his solid frame and the steering wheel, his arms holding you like they do when you sleep, but this feels different, this feels tighter, this feels dangerously close to touching the reason you shake, the reason you burrow yourself into him at night.

“We’ll be alright,” he promises so fiercely it startles your eyes dry. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”

-

It’s late at night in the QZ a few years earlier, dim street light beaming through the dusty window. You sit with your back against the rotting drywall, Joel with his against the couch. You’re waiting for Tess to get back with a drop from a new partner, something she said felt “promising,” but that she wanted to handle with caution. The two of you would always listen to her, so you’ve stayed behind, but you’ll also always worry for her, so you stay awake into the early hours of the morning just to see the promise of her wellbeing slip through the doorway.

You’re picking at your fingernails, something Katie would always turn her nose up at you for, “makes ‘em look ugly,’ she’d say, but everything’s ugly here so you might as well match. Katie’s on your mind just as much as Tess - she’s been gone from your shared residence more often since Brandon died, you think she can’t stand to see the hallways you once all ran through together as children. You worry for her, too. Her great love for a woman named Marlene and ceaseless ardor for Marlene’s cause put her in more danger everyday. She’d do anything for the Fireflies, plant any bomb. Maybe even the one the killed Brandon. Neither of you are sure, and you definitely never talk about it.

“Will you quit?” Joel’s gruff voice startles you out of your spiraling reverie, and you realize blood has started to seep from around some of your cuticles. “Fuckin’ — fidgeting’s makin’ me nervous.”

“Sorry,” you say, not really meaning it but feeling sheepish nonetheless. Joel intimidates you; he’s quiet, and strong, and definitely beautiful, and maybe knows something about life, maybe too much about life, maybe that’s why he’s so dour all the time. However, sitting here on the floor, waiting for your shared comrade’s return, you feel emboldened or delirious from the witching hour. You open your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Didn’t know you got nervous.”

He scoffs abruptly, a sound you might almost have called a laugh in another life, and runs his fingers over his mouth absentmindedly. The streetlamp glow slants across his cheekbones just so, and in this dilapidated, peeling living room, he looks almost otherworldly. “‘M always nervous.”

He doesn’t say anything more, settling back into his friend The Silence, and you don’t believe him. He doesn’t look nervous, doesn’t pluck at his own feathers like you or move to fill the time.

“About Tess?” You venture, high off of his conversation, elated at his breath expelled in your direction. It feels like something, it feels like anything, and you’ve been dying - Katie’s never around anymore, the other girls at the food bank are even more dried up and sullen than you, and Tess, beautiful Tess with her clever wit and grounding roots isn’t here - you need more.

Joel casts you a sidelong glance. You suddenly wonder if you remembered to run your fingers through your hair this morning. It surely looks a mess. You go back to picking at your nails. The blood feels warm and soothing. “Yeah,” he acquiesces, eyebrows raising slightly. “But she can handle herself.”

Your heart races. “I know! I didn’t mean to say she couldn’t. I just —”

He holds up a hand to quell your ramble, and you crumble to his command. “I know. We still worry.”

You exhale long, arduous. “Yeah,” you agree softly.

He taps his finger on his knees, joins you in your fidgeting realm, his feathers pluck, his callous peels. “Don’t you got someone waitin’ for you?” He says suddenly, and you know he knows these things about you, but it’s a shock to hear him acknowledge it.

“My sister. And no. She doesn’t come home much these days. ‘Sides, I’d rather be here anyways.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “What’s she doin’ away at this hour? Isn’t she younger?”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and for a moment, your hackles raise. “She’s a grown woman. That’s her business, not mine.” As if it’s your fault that she’s joined up with a vigilante guerilla. As if it’s your fault that you don’t know where she sleeps these days, or if she gets enough to eat besides the times she comes to pick up the extra cans you still steal her. She is younger than you, he’s right, and you tried to provide, tried to take care of her the way your mother had tried to before she passed, before the outbreak, even. You were only 8 when the world ended, and your mother had died just a few years later. The only thing that had kept you and Katie out of military school was the older woman across the way who lied and said she was watchin’ over you. It hadn’t worked for Brandon, though. He was too young for anyone to care for, and was rocked right into the deadly cradle of FEDRA.

Joel pauses for a second, quietly contemplative, before nodding. “Suppose you’re right.”

Your breath drops back down into your stomach. If there’s anything you and Joel Miller would ever shake on, it would be leaving others to mind their own.

You wonder what his life must have been like before. What sorrow left him this way, bewildered and cold and fortified as the QZ itself.

“When did Tess say she was getting back again?” You say to fill the space, to fan the coals of a conversation long dwindled.

“Said she wasn’t sure.” He’s annoyed, you can tell. “Said it could take the whole night, or longer. Were you even listenin’?”

You purse your lips, and the apology slips from you without your own permission. A longing to stand your ground far outrun by the desperation for his voice, for his grave countenance continued. “Sorry. I don’t remember things like I’m supposed to.”

Your voice catches in your throat at the last few words, and you have to look away from him, have to blink a little faster than perhaps is natural. You’re not just talking about Tess’s debrief, you know.

You don’t expect it when he replies. “I remember it all.” A quiet confession to the night draft through the pane, shaking the dust on the counter. You look back to him, eyes wide, and his tongue peeks out to wet his cracked lips. It’s like he knows, he knows what you meant, and he can see right through you and this flimsy excuse for skin you wear, this flimsy excuse of a girl you are. He sees you, and you feel like the recipient of a crown jewel, a treasure held close to your heart for this little bit of him that he’s allowed through, this morsel of self that’s scrapped so haggardly to his surface.

His eyes lock with yours, his face set suddenly with a grim determination. “Listen, she’ll be alright. We all will. I mean it.”

You nod, his earnestness permeating your jellyfish shroud, spineless, maybe he could prop you up. Maybe he’s doing it now. You turn back to your nail beds to shred until the early morning sun brings Tess home with it.

[transmutationisms]

Hi! Could you talk more about the American road narrative of bones & all invoking cannibalism as loss of civilization and the colonialist discourses that implicates? Thank you

the connection is that, just as bones and all invokes cannibalism as a loss of control and an uncivilised (or pre-civilised) behaviour, the film is also structured around a road trip whereby maren's search for answers about her own cannibalistic nature necessitates an expansion across the us, specifically in the western direction away from the east coast. the midwestern us (and westward expansion generally) thus appears in the film as a site of greater freedom, self-knowledge, and eventually also as a place where maren and lee can settle and try to prove themselves in their new homestead. however, moving west also means danger: maren's initial goal is her mother, who turns out to be insane (both represented and signified by cannibalism), and of course their apartment is also the place where lee eventually surrenders himself entirely to death and maren's hunger. thus, westward expansion and settlement frees the characters from the strictures of the social norms constraining their 'eating' back east, opening into a frontier fantasy in which their more base, bodily desires can run wild yet ultimately end up destroying them.

this combines elements of established colonial discourses on both cannibalism (as a primitive, 'savage' practice of 'uncivilised' and inferior peoples) and usamerican westward expansion (it's for a similar reason that, eg, lots of space colony concept art depicts the transplanted landscapes and biota as generic north american national park-looking scenes). cannibalism in bones and all has a few different specific metaphorical meanings (addiction; 'mental illness' broadly; homosexuality; passion broadly; &c) but what unifies these things thematically is that they are all configured as threats to, and threatened by, social life in the heart of 'civilisation'. eaters are necessarily pushed toward the social margins, living as vagrants or criminals, and the film's main narrative requires maren to move westward in particular in order to shed the restrictive rules imposed on her when she lived 'normally' (within social bounds) with her father. obviously not all usamerican road trip narratives involve cannibalism, but this basic setup of westward expansion + settlement as a journey of self-discovery and escape from (restrictive elements of) society is common to the genre and generally to usamerican 'pioneer' mythology and ideology.

[veilder]

Hello hello! So, the Silm server that I joined awhile back regularly does little writing events that I've been participating in and today was another one! I ended up quite liking how this little thing turned out so I thought perhaps I could share it here? (Please go easy on me, this is the first Silm thing I've posted in public. 😅) Written for the SWG server using this prompt:

The stars know everything, So we try to read their minds. As distant as they are, We choose to whisper in their presence.

It is never truly dark in Valinor.

The light of the Trees does not illuminate all of course. There are distant lands to the north and south, too far from the great hill of Ezellohar to witness that radiance. There are lands beyond the Pelóri where the mountains cast too grand a shadow. There are islands off the coast where the rains never cease and the mist obscures all but the faintest of rays. But for much of the blessed land of Aman, there is Light.

There are some times Finwë wishes there was not.

It is not regret that belies such feelings, never that. He remembers with clarity the wild lands beyond, the dangers the Quendi had faced on their long journey westward that he still shudders to think on. If he is sure of anything, it is that he had made the correct choice in leading his people here, to this bountiful land where no harm may befall them. No, it is not regret that twists his heart in longing for that which was. It is merely… remembrance.

He remembers the stars most fondly of all, those gleaming pinpricks of light overhead, the only light in all the world. He remembers the songs of praise, the starlit dances, the shadow upon the landscape before the Treelight had set upon him and obscured all in radiance. He remembers the flowers that had bloomed in the darkness, reflecting the stars dim light back up at them, remembers the taste of the fruits that had grown only in the dark. He remembers the great mirror that was Cuiviénen, how the water's reflection doubled the stars above and below in a seemingly-endless tapestry. He remembers his Míriel, silver and shining, and the way her pale hair had captured the sparse glow of the heavens like a quicksilver stream.

But it has been countless years now since Finwë has last seen those stars as he remembers them. In Blessed Aman, only the dim outlines of those ancient constellations can be seen through the Mingling. Now, he has not felt true Darkness in so long, he fears he will forget its weight, the burden of it, but also the comfort. For there had been terror and tragedy and heartbreak in those dismal lands beyond the sea… but there had been beauty, too, and joy and a love ever-growing. He loved still the land of his birth, for all the trials he had faced there.

It is not regret that has him casting gray eyes skyward…

But his heart twists just the same.

[fyrni]

Tyria Pride 2025: Day One

For the first day of Tyria Pride myself and my partner, @willooooooow, took part in the march. She has only played the game for the last half year, myself since launch, and it was so wonderful to get to meet other amazing queer people ❤️Including some lovely people from Tumblr! @wilsons-journey @mistfallengw2

I went in agender and asexual colours, since those are what Swift (my main character) identifies as, and @willooooooow took her character Aelwythe in the trans and lesbian colours.

We also met the two remaining deities of Tyria...

... And chatted with lots of lovely people before setting off.

It was a lot of fun having the open world enemies try to stop us only to be crushed by the sheer number of people. At our first stop we met an old friend. Although they looked a bit different from last we met in Cantha...

And of course, the queer icon Joko himself made it to the march.

We then marched onwards doing our best to test Ascalonian infrastructure, jumping up and down on every bridge we passed. Seeing wings of all pride flags flutter up and down was heartwarming, to say the least ❤️It was also great to see a lot of people repping the asexual pride colours, with some aromantic and agender people too.

The guild [Wing] also showed up to accompany us on our march westward!

As well as a familiar old face who had just returned from the beaches of Southsun. Although there was something off about him. I couldn't quite place it, though.

We were also graced the presence of an ANet dev who had an amazing outfit too!

Before we continued on from Ascalon to the Shiverpeaks.

There were so many Charr. So, so many. Including some from a guild I've been in for many years [CAH]. All dressed in fabulous colours. So I just had to join their dance party.

Then we continued onwards towards Gendarren Fields.

Before we reached our destination, Lion's Arch.

Where we tested the infrastructure... Again.

And made sure to wish our trans queen, Aid Worker Sya, happy pride!

Before we reached the end of day one.

After it all we had a well earned rest. And had a surprise guest! Almorra Soulkeeper. Who challenged other Charr to a dance-off. And hoo baby did she have some moves.

So after several hours the march came to an end. Myself and @willooooooow had such a wonderful time, made some new friends, and are looking forward to day two tomorrow! Thanks to everyone at Tyria Pride who organised this event and have done for almost 10 years now. It means so much to be able to connect with other queer people, even if from afar.

And before I forget, trans rights are human rights 😎❤️

[duxbelisarius]

The Dragon has Three Heads or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Believe That Young Griff is the Real Deal

Before going any further, I want to warn anyone reading this analysis that it will contain spoilers for A Dance With Dragons, so proceed at your own risk.

This essay came about from an 'epiphany' I had while reading ADWD on break at work, specifically chapter Daenerys VII. In this chapter, Quentyn Martell and his companions present themselves to Daenerys and offer her a marriage alliance with Dorne. This being the day of her wedding to Hizdahr zo Loraq, Dany refuses and makes note mentally of Quaithe's earlier warning about not trusting "the Sun's Son." The identification seems simple enough, with House Martell's sigil featuring the sun and Quentyn being the son of Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, but there are serious problems with this conclusion.

The issue with labeling Quentyn Martell the Sun's Son stems from how Dany reaches this conclusion; for starters, this is the original quote given by Quaithe in Daenerys II:

"No. Hear me, Daenerys Targaryen. The glass candles are burning. Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun's son and the mummer's dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal."

And this is how Dany identifies Quentyn as the Sun's Son in Daenerys VII and VIII:

Something tickled at her memory. "Ser Barristan, what are the arms of House Martell?"

"A sun in splendor, transfixed by a spear."

The sun's son. A shiver went through her. "Shadows and whispers." What else had Quaithe said? The pale mare and the sun's son. There was a lion in it too, and a dragon. Or am I the dragon? "Beware the perfumed seneschal." That she remembered. "Dreams and prophecies. Why must they always be in riddles? I hate this. Oh, leave me, ser. Tomorrow is my wedding day."

...

The pale mare. Daenerys sighed. Quaithe warned me of the pale mare's coming. She told me of the Dornish prince as well, the sun's son. She told me much and more, but all in riddles.

George has talked about the fickle nature of prophecy in the books and publicly, citing the Duke of Somerset's death at the Battle of St. Albans in Shakespeare's Henry VI as an example of why the literal or easiest interpretations are not always the most reliable. While Dany's conclusion that Quentyn is the 'Sun's Son' seems straightforward, she bases it solely on Barristan's description of the Martell arms. Her reasoning is mainly to justify marrying Hizdahr by dismissing the Martell offer, as Dany herself barely remembers Quaithe's warning and bemoans her 'riddles'.

Assuming that the 'Pale Mare' refers to the 'bloody flux' that the Astapori refugees bring to Meereen, and that the Kraken, dark flame, lion, griffon and mummer's dragon refer to Victarion Greyjoy, Moqorro, Tyrion, Connington and Young Griff respectively, the sequence of Quaithe's warning makes no sense with Quentyn as the 'Sun's Son.' At the end of ADWD, Tyrion is outside the walls of Meereen while Victarion and Moqorro are en route with the Iron Fleet, and Connington and Young Griff are in Westeros. If Dany's return to Meereen from the Dothraki Sea is followed by her journeying westwards, then this sequence makes sense. Victarion will likely destroy the Slaver's fleets and is seeking Dany's hand in marriage, while Moqorro is with him for the purpose of acknowledging her as Azor Ahai and encouraging her to free the slaves of Volantis. Given Tyrion's association with Varys, Illyrio, Jorah and now 'Brown Ben Plumm,' and his family's role in Robert's rebellion, it makes sense that he would not immediately seek out Daenerys on her return to Meereen. Connington and Young Griff await her in Westeros, but Quentyn as the 'Sun's Son' precedes all of them, breaking Quaithe's otherwise sensible sequence. If Quentyn were the 'Sun's Son' he could just as easily have been paired with the Kraken, since both are sent by the heads of their houses to offer her an alliance, while Tyrion and Moqorro travel together on the Selaesori Qhoran (the 'Perfumed Seneschal') and Connington and Griff are in league with Varys.

The far greater issue with Dany's interpretation is that we have access to Quentyn's POV, and there is nothing to suggest that he seeks to betray Daenerys. His purpose was to approach Dany with a marriage alliance, to assist her in reclaiming her crown; his party was even sent by Tatters to scope out the situation in Meereen for a possible double-crossing of the Yunkai'i, specifically to aid Dany. The only thing close to untoward that he does is attempt to claim one of her Dragons, and this was a desperation move driven by his insecurities and his fear of returning to his father empty handed, which would mean that his fallen companions died for nothing:

"What name do you think they will give me, should I return to Dorne without Daenerys?" Prince Quentyn asked. "Quentyn the Cautious? Quentyn the Craven? Quentyn the Quail?" (The Discarded Knight, ADWD)

Volantis, Quentyn thought. Then Lys, then home. Back the way I came, empty-handed. Three brave men dead, for what?

...

His father would speak no word of rebuke, Quentyn knew, but the disappointment would be there in his eyes. His sister would be scornful, the Sand Snakes would mock him with smiles sharp as swords, and Lord Yronwood, his second father, who had sent his own son along to keep him safe … (The Spurned Suitor, ADWD)

Disqualifying Quentyn as the Sun's Son leaves us with only three options, of which only one really works. Trystane is the only other son of House Martell aside from Quentyn via Prince Doran, and given his limited roll in the story thus far I think it's safe to cross him off the list. Doran could theoretically work as the 'Sun's son,' as his mother was Princess of Dorne before him; given that Quaithe describes the figures as going to Dany, Doran's limited mobility and poor health would disqualify him. This leaves us with only one 'son of a sun,' that being 'Young Griff,' aka Aegon VI Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne.

This association of Aegon with the Martells via his mother fits with the copious amounts of imagery linking him to the Rhoynar and to 'Egg' aka Aegon V of "Dunk and Egg" fame, specifically that character's travels in Dorne. Tyrion finds him living on a pole boat in the Rhoyne River, home of the ancient Rhoynar culture that Dorne descends from. The Shy Maid is operated by Yandry and Ysilla, so-called 'orphans of the Greenblood' which are another allusion to Dunk and Egg's travels on the Greenblood River in Dorne:

A poleboat had taken them down the Greenblood to the Planky Town, where they took passage for Oldtown on the galleas White Lady.

...

When they’d been poling down the Greenblood, the orphan girls had made a game of rubbing Egg’s shaven head for luck. (The Sworn Sword)

In Tyrion IV of ADWD, a massive horned turtle appears in the river by the Shy Maid, an obvious reference to the Rhoynish 'Old Man of the River,':

It was another turtle, a horned turtle of enormous size, its dark green shell mottled with brown and overgrown with water moss and crusty black river molluscs. It raised its head and bellowed, a deep-throated thrumming roar louder than any warhorn that Tyrion had ever heard. “We are blessed,” Ysilla was crying loudly, as tears streamed down her face. “We are blessed, we are blessed.”

Duck was hooting, and Young Griff too. Haldon came out on deck to learn the cause of the commotion . . . but too late. The giant turtle had vanished below the water once again. “What was the cause of all that noise?” the Halfmaester asked.

“A turtle,” said Tyrion. “A turtle bigger than this boat.”

“It was him,” cried Yandry. “The Old Man of the River.”

And why not? Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

When Tyrion and Haldon visit the Painted Turtle inn to find information about Daenerys' whereabouts, we have an interesting description of the inn from Tyrion:

The ridged shell of some immense turtle hung above its door, painted in garish colors. Inside a hundred dim red candles burned like distant stars. (Tyrion VI, ADWD)

We once more have Rhoynish symbolism in the turtle, while the 'garish colors' are reminiscent of Young Griff's hair, which is dyed blue in the Tyroshi fashion. Tyrion's description of inside the 'Painted Turtle' is one of dim red candles burning like stars, which can be seen as an oblique reference to the red rubies on Rhaegar's black breastplate, thereby associating the red of Targaryen heraldry with the cultural symbols of the Rhoynar.

The 'Dunk and Egg' imagery goes further, with both Egg and Aegon wearing distinctive straw sun hats, and being accompanied by their Hedge Knights from the Stormlands, both of whom have titles derived from their own simplistic personalities (Duncan the Tall, Rolly Duckfield). Moreover, Egg's journeying to Dorne ends up giving him refuge from the Spring Sickness that ravages Westeros, while Aegon's time in Essos serves as a refuge from Robert's spies and the chaos of the War of the Five Kings. While these similarities might be viewed as a doomed attempt by Varys to recreate Egg through Aegon, I think the purpose of these parallels is to establish both princes as following similar trajectories: both are sons of a Targaryen prince (Maekar, Rhaegar) and a Dornish noblewoman (Dyana Dayne, Elia Martell); become King of the Seven Kingdoms through unexpected circumstances: and if George plans to end ADOS with a mini-Dance of the Dragons, I would expect Aegon VI to meet a fiery end like Egg did.

If Young Griff is actually Aegon VI Targaryen as well as the 'Sun's Son,' this leaves the 'mummer's dragon' without any clear identity. Part of this is due to the conviction that Dany's identification of the cloth dragon from the undying visions with a 'mummer's dragon' or puppet dragon must be correct. In truth, there are countless cases from ADWD alone that show us that a mummer's object is not necessarily a puppet, but more broadly means something which is not as it appears:

I know one stands before me now, weeping mummer's tears. The realization made her sad. (Daenerys III, ADWD)

"Not here," warned Gerris, with a mummer's empty smile. "We'll speak of this tonight, when we make camp." (The Windblown, ADWD)

"My lord, I bear you no ill will. The rancor I showed you in the Merman's Court was a mummer's farce put on to please our friends of Frey."

...

I drink with Jared, jape with Symond, promise Rhaegar the hand of my own beloved granddaughter … but never think that means I have forgotten. The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer's farce is almost done. My son is home." (Davos IV, ADWD)

His reign as prince of Winterfell had been a brief one. He had played his part in the mummer's show, giving the feigned Arya to be wed, and now he was of no further use to Roose Bolton. (The Turncloak, ADWD)

Fat Wyman Manderly, Whoresbane Umber, the men of House Hornwood and House Tallhart, the Lockes and Flints and Ryswells, all of them were northmen, sworn to House Stark for generations beyond count. It was the girl who held them here, Lord Eddard's blood, but the girl was just a mummer's ploy, a lamb in a direwolf's skin. So why not send the northmen forth to battle Stannis before the farce unraveled? (A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD)

Mummer's tears and smiles are obviously false emotions, being affectations put on to hide what someone truly feels. Wyman Manderly is engaged in a mummer's farce wherein he pretends to be loyal to King Tommen and Roose Bolton, but in truth is scheming to restore the Starks to Winterfell and assist Stannis against the Boltons. Roose Bolton, Petyr Baelish and the Crown have in turn engaged in their own mummer's farce by sending Jeyne Poole north to wed Ramsay Snow in the guise of Arya Stark, "a lamb in direwolf's skin." If the 'mummer's dragon' is in fact a dragon that has been made to appear as something else, then Jon Snow more than fits this bill. By birth he should be a Targaryen, having been fathered by Rhaegar Targaryen upon Lyanna Stark; instead, his fortuitous Stark features inherited from his mother, and Ned's claiming Jon as his bastard and raising him amongst his children at Winterfell, has allowed Jon to hide in plain sight from those who would kill him for being Rhaegar's son.

The significance of Dany, Jon and Aegon being the three heads of the dragon is due to their mirroring a less conspicuous triad in George's World: elemental magic and it's connections to the Long Night. We are aware of three forms of elemental magic in the story, being pyromancy, cryomancy and hydromancy. Pyromancy is the most obvious, being the control and use of fire as we see with followers of Rhllor, and also tied to dragons. Cryomancy or ice magic appears in the powers of the Others and in the Wall separating the Seven Kingdoms from the lands beyond. Finally we have hydromancy or water magic, which was used by the Rhoynar against the Valyrian Freedhold and by Nymeria's Rhoynar settlers to support their communities within the deserts of Dorne. Company of the Cat has an excellent video discussing these three 'schools' of magic, but to summarize what she's said: Blue, Red and Green are the colours commonly associated with Ice, Fire and Water/the Sea in ASOIAF; in addition to being featured on the arms of ancient houses such as Massey and Strong, these elements are in turn associated with three magical items in the books. The first, The Horn of Joramun, can raise and lower The Wall (Ice); Dragonbinder, a horn that was likely used alongside similar horns to control the volcanoes of the fourteen flames in Valyria (Fire); and the 'Kraken summoning horn' which is most likely the Hammer of the Waters, since the Hammer raised the seas to swamp the 'Arm of Dorne,' which would have filled the seas fill with corpses of the dead and 'summoned' krakens, which would have fed on the bodies of the drowned.

The Valyrian, Northern and Rhoynish heritage of Dany, Jon and Aegon ties them to these three forms of magic respectively, and by extension to the Long Night. We are given three accounts of the Long Night between ASOIAF and TWOIAF, which I dub the 'western,' 'far eastern' and 'near eastern' versions. The 'western' account concerns the First Men, the Night's Watch, the Last Hero and the Others; the 'far eastern' account covers the 'Jade Compendium' and the Yi Tish account of the Blood Betrayal; and the 'near eastern' or Rhoynar account in which the children of Mother Rhoyne sang a song to return light to the world. Aegon is tied to the Rhoynish account through his mother's heritage, with references to the Rhoynish account in the 'Old Man of the River' appearing in ADWD and Dany's vision of Rhaegar talking about Aegon's 'Song' (that of Ice and Fire):

The Rhoynar tell of a darkness that made the Rhoyne of Essos dwindle and disappear, her waters frozen as far south as the joining of the Selhoru, until a hero convinced the many children of Mother Rhoyne, such as the Crab King and the Old man of the River, to put aside their bickering and join in a secret song that brought back the day. (TWOIAF: Ancient History: The Long Night)

...

“Will you make a song for him?” the woman asked.

“He has a song,” the man replied. “He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.” (Daenerys IV, ACOK)

Jon's connection to the Northern account is obvious given his Stark lineage and service in the Night's Watch, as well as his dreams in ADWD:

Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. "Snow," an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she'd appeared.

The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. "I am the Lord of Winterfell," Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled … (Jon XII, ADWD)

Finally, Dany is directly referred to as Azor Ahai in the books while her visions from Daenerys IX of AGOT connect her bloodline to the Great Empire of the Dawn. The eye colours of the figures she sees match the titles of four of the eight emperors of the GEOTD, Opal, Jade, Tourmaline and Amethyst, with the Bloodstone Emperor killing his sister the Amethyst Empress and causing the Long Night. Azor Ahai and the Bloodstone Emperor are themselves connected, and I recommend David Lightbringer's Nightbringer series and "Azor Ahai the Bad Guy" video for a concise explanation. It's worth noting that David is well within the Faegon Blackfyre camp, but I think his theories here more than fit my own conclusions also.

Aegon being one of the three heads also fits in with the symbolic relationship between water, fire and ice and the green, red and blue colour scheme. As Company of the Cat points out in her video about the magic horns (timestamp 26:52), green is a secondary colour made from a 'cool' and a 'warm' colour, placing it in the middle of the spectrum while red and blue are polar opposites. Similarly, fire can melt ice back into water and water in turn quenches fire, situating Aegon at a middle ground between Jon's ice and Dany's fire. Whereas Jon's only aspect of himself that ties him to House Targaryen is his father and otherwise he is firmly associated with his mother's house, Dany is tied symbolically to her Targaryen identity in the books, being a product of Targaryen incest, the first to hatch dragons in over a century, and her ties to fire through her 'rebirth' on Mirri's pyre under the Red Comet. While Aegon's physical appearance and his father tie him clearly to House Targaryen like Dany, the support of his mother's family alongside his Rhoynar lineage and symbolism place him in a similar situation to Jon, besides their being half-brothers. This also calls to mind the three accounts of the Long Night: if Jon is the Last Hero leading the Night's Watch and Dany is Azor Ahai driving out the darkness with her 'lightbringer' (ie her dragons), Aegon is the unnamed hero who rallied the children of Mother Rhoyne to sing a secret song which brought back the day. To quote alexis_something_rose's essay about Young Griff, "I can wager who will be bickering and who will tell them to set their differences aside and join together in a secret song that will bring back the day."

Whether or not all three or some combination of them will play a decisive role in defeating the Others, or if that will be Bran's part to play, I believe strongly that Dany, Jon and Aegon will be the 'three heads of the dragon.' If 'Young Griff' is truly Sun's Son, Aegon son of Rhaegar, his joining with Dany and Jon represents a unification of the three Dawn Age narratives of the Long Night and it's eventual end. Uniting the icey North, the dragon lord's fire and the songs of Mother Rhoyne would make the endgame a true 'Song of Ice and Fire.'

[whencyclopedia]

Northern Cheyenne Exodus

The Northern Cheyenne Exodus (1878-1879) is the modern-day term for the attempt by the Northern Cheyenne under chiefs Morning Star (Dull Knife, l. c. 1810-1883) and Little Wolf (also known as Little Coyote, l. c. 1820-1904) to leave the Southern Cheyenne Reservation in Indian Territory (modern-day Oklahoma) and return to their home in modern-day Montana.

Following the Battle of the Little Bighorn (25-26 June 1876), in which the Cheyenne, Sioux, and Arapaho defeated the 7th Cavalry under Lt. Colonel George Armstrong Custer (l. 1839-1876), Morning Star and Little Wolf gathered their forces to press for another Native American victory in the hopes of halting US westward expansion. They were defeated at the Battle on the Red Fork (also known as the Dull Knife Fight) on 25 November 1876.

The Cheyenne surrendered at Fort Robinson in modern-day Nebraska in 1877 with the understanding, based on the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, that they would be able to live with the Sioux in their ancestral homelands. Instead, they were forcibly deported to Indian Territory in the south where they found the conditions unbearable. In September 1878, Morning Star and Little Wolf led their people out of the reservation and headed north.

They were pursued by US authorities until they separated in October 1878, with Morning Star's band heading for the Red Cloud Agency to seek the protection of Chief Red Cloud (l. 1822-1909), and Little Wolf journeying toward the Powder River territory. Morning Star/Dull Knife's band was apprehended and taken to Fort Robinson where US authorities tried to starve them into submission and a return to the south. Little Wolf's band succeeded in reaching the Powder River. Later, the Northern Cheyenne were able to negotiate the establishment of what became the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation in Montana, where many of their descendants still live today.

Background

The westward expansion of the United States in the mid-19th century brought settlers into conflict with the Plains Indians and others who had been living on their lands for thousands of years. The Fort Laramie Treaty of 1851 was supposed to resolve these problems by clearly defining territories for each nation as well as those open for settlement by US citizens. This treaty was never honored, however, and was broken in 1858 when gold was discovered on Native American lands, leading to Pike's Peak Gold Rush.

Instead of honoring the treaty, the US government sent the military to protect US citizens who had no rights to the land they were mining and settling on. The First Sioux War (1854-1856), the Colorado War (1864-1865), and Red Cloud's War (1866-1868) were all Native American responses to the broken treaty and westward expansion. The Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868 ended Red Cloud's War and was supposed to prevent further conflicts by establishing the Great Sioux Reservation, but this agreement was also never honored by the US government and was abandoned when Lt. Colonel George Armstrong Custer discovered gold in the Black Hills (on the Sioux Reservation) in 1874. This led to the Black Hills Gold Rush of 1876, which the Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho responded to in the Great Sioux War (1876-1877).

Custer and five divisions of the 7th Cavalry were wiped out at the Battle of the Little Bighorn by a coalition formed by the Sioux holy man and chief Sitting Bull (l. c. 1837-1890) which included the Cheyenne and some Arapaho. Morning Star/Dull Knife did not participate in the battle, nor did Little Wolf (although he was on the field on 25 June). After the battle, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse (l. c. 1840-1877), Sioux war chief Gall (l. c. 1840-1894), and the other leaders dispersed, but, inspired by their victory, Morning Star/Dull Knife and Little Wolf mobilized Northern Cheyenne warriors to continue the fight. They were defeated at the Battle on the Red Fork (Dull Knife Fight) on 25 November 1876.

Battle of the Little Bighorn

Kurz & Allison (Public Domain)

Continue reading...

[the-monkey-ruler]

How many adaptions has a bad ending for the group, like I remember there was one where Sun Wukong murdered Tang Seng in his sleep and he didn't remember afterward?

That is from a light novel Bio of Wukong. And while that was the height of JTTW angst popularity it still didn't get that adapted into any movie/show.

I can't say that there is any 'bad' ending because while that could work well in maybe a literature medium. Books allow for a long time to build up characters, exposition, and suspense without needing to worry about limitations like runtime or production costs. I can't say that there are a lot of shows that are bold enough to have a 'bad' ending really as movies only have a limited time, especially for something like JTTW that is always seen more as a Fantasy/Adventure story than anything dramatic. Not saying that JTTW can't have horror elements or dramatic elements, but that it just isn't common that this is the main element.

That being said that there are two pieces of media that are inspired by Bio of Wukong. One being a movie by the same name "Bio of Wukong" where we see Wukon's whole mountain being killed off and that even shows Wujing and Bajie's past lives Juanlian and Tianpeng being killed off as well. While this is the most 'bad' ending movie it isn't really the end as it more takes place right before Wukong is about to be trapped under the mountain. Moreso this takes what is already there, the Burning of Flower Fruit Mountain, and is the focal point of the movie. However, while it ends with Wukong trying to take on Heaven one more time we never see the actual journey so I can't say it is a 'bad' ending when that isn't shown.

Another that can be a 'bad' ending somewhat is from where the Bio of Wukong light novel is actually inspired by which is the Chinese Odessey. This one Wukong does try to kill Sanzang, but fails, and he gets trapped by Guanyin where in the next life he turns into Joker. Sanzang does end up 'dying' in that verse. However this is a time-travel movie so Joker does go back in time and he does become Wukong again and then he does go on the journey so that is also not really a 'bad' ending.

A better one could be considered Westward the animation series. This one is where by the end of the journey Wukong is killed in heaven and Sanzang, Bajie, and Wujing are separated after the scripture are lost. Pretty much someone evil has secretly taken over heaven and what to use the scriptures for evil stuff. Now Wukong dead, Sanzang, Bajie, Wujing, Bailong (Ao Xue), and now BaiLang a wolf demon are on a mission to bring back the scriptures to Western Heaven so that the evil people don't get their hands on them (also the scriputres have cultivated into a dragon girl). This one is more adventure/action but it is a 'bad' ending for the journey officially which leads to this SECOND journey to fix it.

Also a strange addition but God of High School the anime. You would never guess but the main character is Sun Wukong without his memory and apparently, the gods of that world lied to him and his pilgrimage about the scriptures and it was all a ploy for 'buddha' or the god claiming to be him to eat Sanzang and become all powerful himself. Sadly ends with Bajie and Wujing dying and Wukong has to eat Sanzang himself in a last-minute desperate move to defeat the evil deity which does work but leaves Wukong eventually going to earth and becoming 'human'. Kinda insane but that is a 'bad' ending that is only revealed like after 400 chapters in.

[murfeelee]

Black Myth: Wukong INSP - The Third Relic

Another 400 li further north is the Qiaoming Mountain, where the Qiao River originates and flows westward into the Yellow River. There are many Heluo fish, which have ten bodies on one head and make a sound like a barking dog. Eating them can cure 癰 (carbuncle; sore; ulcer; abscess). 320 li further south is the Dongshi Mountain...the Yi River originates from there and flows northeastward into the sea, where there are many beautiful shellfish and many fish. They look like carp, with one head and ten bodies, and they smell like mugwort/mulberry, but you won't fart (屁) if you eat them.

-- Shan Hai Jing (Classic of Mountains and Seas), Vol. 3.4, & Vol. 4.44. (If the translation's wrong, yell at Google Translate & Wiktionary, not me! 😅)

MY THOUGHTS (lore dump & fangirling under the cut):

In Journey to the West, Kang-Jin Star was a GOOD celestial dragon constellation who originally helped Sun Wukong; but in Game Science's dark AU she's mind-controlled by Yellowbrow (disguised as fake!Maitreya), to help him use Wukong's relics to gain more power/immortality in Chapter 3. What happens to her (and all the other dragons) is really effed up--the black myth of it all--so I just wanted TS3 gameplay where real!Maitreya purifies her and frees Wukong's relic from the ice lake, and everyone's OK in the end. 😔

But chile, the lore about Wukong's relics isn't explained in the game AT ALL. That's a big issue about BMW, the sharp learning curve about what the story even IS. Cuz Game Science doesn't just expect you to be proficient in Journey to the West, Buddhism, and Chinese folklore; they also expect you to be fluent in the Chinese language to get all the puns, which are lost in translation in English. This game is NOT for Western audiences; it's super confusing & vague if you're not steeped in research about ancient Chinese culture. To this day I'm learning more about wtf was going on in this frikkin game; HELP.

In the Shan Hai Jing (Classic of Mountains & Seas), the He-luo Fish (何羅魚) has 1 head and 10 bodies (aka: a squid) that really stinks, but has magic/medicinal properties against flatulence/farting. So Game Science used it as a relic form to represent Wukong's nose/sense of smell, like how the Grieving Body relic is Wukong's torso/touch relic.

But there's a deeper pun about how in Chinese, saying someone's blowing hot air or has farts coming out their mouth is another way of saying they're speaking "nonsense (屁)," which is ALSO the name of the Chapter 3 cutscene/music video where Yellowbrow (in disguise as a magic money yaoguai) corrupts people into self-destructive greed & murder--just like he did to Kang-Jin Star and all his other victims. And when he explains his evil actions to Xuanzang (sense/truth), all he's doing is speaking nonsense(屁)/lies/💩--just a fart. 👌😤👏

(This is my fave BMW end-chapter cutscene btw, it's so Studio Ghibli! 😍)

So if you don't know any of this nuance and didn't watch a billion meta videos about the game lore, there's so much in BMW that's gonna fly right over your head! Meanwhile Game Science is just sitting there like:

Fun easter egg: I've used some images from the Classic of Mountains and Seas in my Untamed/MDZS gameplay for Wei Wuxian's yaoguai sketches, LOL!

It's a really cool bestiary; if I ever get around to uploading my Wei Wuxian INSP MDZS set (🤦), I'll make sure to include the art, too, and add the Heluo Fish as a nod to BMW! 😂

[smilesatdawnmain]

So Wukong was never under the mountain for 500 years in your au’s ?

Or was he ? If he was, how did it affect his relationship with Macaque ?

And what was Wukongs relationship like with the Monk and his companions, or did he never go on the journey?

The Day the World Eclipsed: He was trapped under the mountain in this one, and it did poorly taint his relationship with Macaque. This is very much how it goes in the show as they had the falling out and Wukong did end up killing Macaque later. : ( He is very fond of the Pilgrims and Monk, that friendship bleeding into their next lives : ) 

Taken: Wukong did get sealed below the mountain and for the fully 500 years. This did paint his relationship badly with Macaque due to misunderstanding. They managed to overcome this however later and avoid their fight to the death encounter. 

Wukong got along fantastic with the pilgrims in this life too! The journey didn’t quite go to plan however as the Celestial realm had only used this a means to control Sun Wukong. So the journey is technically never completed. The scriptures were delivered Westward, just not by Sun Wukong. 

Tragedy of Six: A very large alternate world as Wukong was never trapped below the Mountain. He had however gone on the journey to the West to show his good will to the Celestial Realm that he was no enemy to them. Thus meeting the Monk and others and befriending them as normal. 

This probably was the most peaceful timeline, as Wukong and Azure found equal footing with the Jade Emperor and resolved their differences. Things weren’t perfect, but they were getting to be that. Then.. LBD destroyed it all and threw the world into chaos.

[vuldak-juneau]

who: @casimirnoctis where: on the island you said but I done forgot when: 3 or so days after the ship exploded notes: Surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

The blast of the ship should have been lethal, but Juneau found herself tossed about by the unforgiving tide nonetheless. Juneau had missed water so much since she had been reborn in an abyssal shape a year before, but the sea met her like a wall of force.She was lucky that she had not shed all factors of her abyssal form upon regaining her soul–her Vuldak’s constitution made her resilient when exposed to the elements once she washed up on an empty shore ejecting briny water from lungs in rough, wet coughs. The island she found herself on was small and mountainous, and it didn’t take her long to confirm she was the sole inhabitant of the beach she surfaced on. 

Another shoreline was a mere mark on the horizon, a blackish-green smudge against an expanse of blue. She struggled to tell if what she saw in the distance was civilization, or mere wishful thinking. But Juneau was a survivalist, and she refused to entertain the idea that no one was coming. It seemed the restoration of her soul compounded with the shreds of hope she had reignited within herself on her journey in Hestia’s Cove, but she was still a realist and tried to keep ideas that seemed too good to be true at an arm’s length. 

A few nights passed as she slept under the stars and next to a small fire that she had made out of dried husks peeled from surrounding trees and elbow grease. Toward the end of the first evening, a great pyre of black smoke extinguished. She took this as a sign that the dreadnought was finally claimed by the sea and hoped that whoever was searching for survivors did not burn out on determination in time with the vessel. She did not question if someone was looking. Juneau knew Casimir would be at the very least, even if she fully understood the message delivered as part of her dying wish would have left him under the impression she had been plucked from this side of the veil once and for all. 

Hours passed and the midday sun was high overhead. One more night of sleep, Juneau had told herself, and she would attempt to summit the mountain some miles in the distance to see what she could discover from higher ground. She lay on her back in the sand and tossed a smooth pebble up and down repeatedly, snatching it from the air. It was smooth from being tossed about through sand and water, perfect for skipping. The repetitive throwing and catching the stone comforted her–or perhaps it was the memory it elicited from what felt like a lifetime ago on another beach. She doubted there was a fossil encased in this stone, but she promised herself she would crack it in two when she returned home regardless. Because she would make it home.  She was waiting for the sun to begin to fade so she could track the birds again–she had been making a note to herself which direction they headed toward the evening hours. If there was a larger land mass, they would fly in that direction, and if Juneau became desperate enough she would brave the waters and swim that direction eventually. But this evening, as most birds flew toward the east, one small smudge approached heading in a westward flight pattern. She huddled near the small fire she was preparing for another cool evening as it came closer, closer, closer–landed. And she discovered, with a slow creeping grin, that it was not a bird at all, but a bat.

[hhimring]

Three who Stayed in Beleriand

A fic compilation for "March of the Quendi".

Beleg Comes to Ivrin

The first Teler to come to Beleriand was Elwe, almost certainly. But he was in company with Orome and, with Orome, the three elves passed quickly back and forth without delay. Afterwards Elu was so full of the wonders of Valinor that he barely remembered any places they had passed through during the journey.

The first Teler to visit Ivrin was Beleg, scouting in advance before the rest, for he believed it was not sufficient only to rely on those who had arrived before them, although he had indeed spoken with Finwe and a few others of his people before setting out to get an idea of the lie of the land for himself. Beleg waded across the young Narog below the waterfall. He scooped up a handful of the water and drank and found it sweet and good to drink. Then he sat down cross-legged among the moss and ferns on the bank and listened to the cheerful song of the waters of Ivrin for a while.

Finwe was so eager to get where they were going, he thought, that he saw the land only in terms of space to be crossed. He was aware of possible dangers and advantages Beleriand offered to travellers, right enough, but was he truly stopping to look? However wonderful Valinor might be, at the end of the road, surely they could spend some attention appreciating what they found on the way? This now, this Ivrin, was a good place, a welcoming one. He would tell his kin about it, when he returned to them, and he would rest here a little longer before he went on.

Beleg did not know yet, of course, that Elu would be lost and that so many of his followers would spend the rest of their lives in Beleriand, but he did tell his people about the wellspring of Narog with its pools and falls and about other beautiful and kind places he had found. As the Forsaken settled in, waiting for Elu’s return and then gradually recognizing that they were in Beleriand to stay, Ivrin became a familiar stopping-point in the network of their journeys, of the paths they took as they went to and fro, exploring the land that had become their home.

Young Annael passed by Ivrin when he first climbed the path up the slopes of Amon Darthir, discovering a way into Hithlum through the mountain range, and afterwards he and others who settled with him at Mithrim came this way often. Although the Sindar made no permanent settlement at Ivrin, life went on there. Lovers walked on its banks, now and then, and perhaps Gwindor was not the first to compare his beloved to the gleam on the pools of Ivrin, even though still neither the Sun nor the Moon had risen yet.

[From: On the bonnie banks of Ivrin]

Celeborn at the Gates of Sirion

He had barely reached Olwe in time for a last farewell--just in time to tell him that Elwe still had not been found, time for Olwe to ask again: 'Won't you abandon this fruitless search and come with us?' and for Celeborn to reply, again: 'I can't give up yet. Won't you stay--wait a little longer?'

He had stood beside Cirdan and watched half his family, half his people being towed away out to sea westward, out of reach.

Somewhere out there was the light of the Trees that Elwe had spoken of, but not for them. Not without Elwe.

He left Cirdan staring out across the waves and returned to the shadowed woods where Elwe had vanished, intending to resume his search. But his steps were slow--no need for haste now--and he veered from his course.

He heard the roar of falling water far off and, threading his path among pools, came, the first of his kind, to the place where Sirion fell deep down into the earth, plunging below hills--the same broad river, surely, he had seen flow into the bay majestically below? So many unseen wonders Middle-earth held, so many mysterious transformations! So Elwe might yet re-emerge...

[The Forsaken]

Cirdan Crosses to Balar

Cirdan seemed to be in a thoughtful, almost melancholy mood, as they tacked across the Bay.

‘This was the first voyage I dared to make away from the coast on a ship I had built myself, across the sea out to the Isle of Balar’, he told Halven, after a while. ‘I have built greater ships since and made more dangerous voyages, but I was so proud of my first sea-going vessel! I believed that I would be making the great journey across the Belegaer in no time, now. Then, of course, Ulmo and Osse advised me not to try…’

Halven, who had been born long after these events, put her hand on his arm. They stood in silence by the mast, watching the Isle grow ever closer, its outlines more clearly defined. There were low bushes, but not much tall growth on the Isle and its shores were rocky.

[From: The Voyage of the Sand Piper]

@march-of-the-noldor