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imaginepirates · 6 years ago

Text

Okay

For @long-cosmos-overhead. The reader gets hurt in a fight on the Pearl. They are later taken care of by Jack, and we get some cuddles at the end.

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands

~2850 words

~~~~~~~

It stung. You didn't dare look down, afraid of how much blood you might be losing. You could feel the stickiness through your fingers. Your hands rested on the area, moving up and down with your breaths. You wheezed slightly; oh god it hurt.

Typically, the Pearl never engaged with other ships. She hadn't had a chance this time, cornered by a looming Spanish galleon off the coast of Cuba. The fight was a bloody one, and neither side seemed to be winning.

You'd been fighting alongside your crewmen when someone stabbed you. It wasn't the person you were fighting, but another sailor passing by.

You were slouched under the stairs, watching the fight play out from between wooden slats. You'd managed to drag yourself there through a fit of pain. You needed a good hiding spot; out in the open, someone might have finished you off.

You tilted your head back against the wall and focused on taking normal breaths. You stared out between your lashes, view obscured by watery eyes.

Tears slipped down your face, leaving it a mess of red streaks. At this rate, nobody was going to find you before the battle was over, and by then it would be too late. You risked a glance down. Blood soaked through your shirt and had trailed as far down as your upper thigh. It had oozed out over your fingers and dyed you skin bright crimson.

It was unfair, you thought, that someone had cut you down from where you couldn't see them. In times gone by, there was a bit of a moral code about such things. Only hurt the people you're fighting face to face. It was the honorable thing to do.

The world had long since passed out of the times of honor, letting itself fall into times of general nastiness.

It would be better to just close your eyes and let yourself slip away, but the battle raged on before you, and you continued to watch.

Some of the crew were generally proficient with cutlasses and muskets. Still, the crew was relying mainly on incredible strokes of luck. It seemed like you did that often. You were so rarely fighting other people, or at least regular ones, that you employed some…interesting tactics.

There was something to be said for creativity. No matter how well-trained a soldier was, he was never prepared for a cask of rum bowling toward him during a fight. A mop to the face was distracting as well.

It was ridiculous. The things you were able to pull off, by all rights, were stupid and seemingly useless. But for you, they worked.

It was part of life on the Pearl. With Jack around, anything was possible. You often wondered about the man. He was a close friend, but a total mystery. There were so many things about him that you longed to know.

You'd never be able to find out. Your eyes were fluttering closed, now, the battle a haze and the noise of clashing metal dull in your ears. It was like being dunked underwater. Everything was fuzzy and out of focus.

~~~

You woke somewhere else, on a mattress, a pillow beneath your head. You barely tried moving. Stretching your legs was the extent of what your tired body wanted to do. Even that hurt; it sent a jolting pain through your body.

It came back to you all at once. You'd only had hazy memories, bleary recollections of what had happened. Now, it returned to you with vivid detail.

Slowly, you moved your arms to your stomach. There was a bandage there, covering your abdomen. It was fresh. You hoped someone had cleaned the room.

You were now capable of clearer thought. The fact that you were on a bed, being taken care of, hinted to your winning the fight. If the Pearl hadn't won, you would likely have been left for dead.

It was a joyous thought, but it still left you alone in a bed. You wondered when someone would come in and check on you. You didn't fancy waiting for too long, just in case you fell asleep again.

You stared at the wall for a while, letting your mind wander. How many of the crew had survived? Was Jack alright? Gibbs? These men and women were your friends, your family. The entire group was close. Losing any one of them would break your heart.

Jack. You realized with alacrity that you were in his bed. There was no other bed on the ship, except for in the sickbay, but you wouldn't be alone if you were there.

You'd been inside Jack's cabin a few times before, but the visits were few and far between. Mostly, he kept his space to himself. It was a goodly size with a large desk at one end. The bed was against one wall. Its crimson sheets were too big, and they spilled onto the floor. A map lie sprawled across the desk. There were little markings all over it, and a knife pinned it in place. Not exactly Jack's style, but it wasn't unusual.

The bottles were his style. They filled the space; they sat on shelves, the desk, the floor, a chair, and one rested just against your foot. If you could move better, you might have checked it for liquid. You could use a drink.

A sliver of light fell across your face, and you instinctively shielded your eyes with your hands. Bad move. Your torso decided it was time to throw a fit, being as painful as possible.

The light disappeared as soon as it came. In the dark, you could just make out the figure of Gibbs. Other than a shallow gash on the forehead, he looked fine.

"You're awake!" He exclaimed. "By gods, you had us scared. Deep cut like that can kill a man."

"I'm not a man," you said weakly.

He laughed. "Still yourself, then. The Cap'n 'll be glad to hear."

"Water?" You croaked.

"Ah, yes, we have some here somewhere." He fished around in the dark, trying to find the pitcher you knew was on the chair.

You were frightfully close to falling asleep again. You wished Gibbs would hurry up. Drinking would rouse you, and a good splash in the face couldn't hurt.

The water was refreshing. You gulped it down, and though it hurt, you couldn't help yourself. Your throat was painfully dry. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd last been awake. When had you drank last? Hours ago? Days?

"How long have I been out?" You asked.

"Almost two days."

"Two days?" It was more an exclamation than a question. "Where has Jack been sleeping?"

"In the chair at his desk."

You supposed you shouldn't be surprised. You and Jack had been friends for a long time, so he had every reason to worry about you. Still, you felt badly that he was sleeping in a chair.

"How is everyone?"

"We're doing fine. Other than bumps and scratches, of course. You got the worst of it." Gibbs looked you over. He pulled aside your blankets to look at your bandage.

It dawned on you that you didn't know who was changing it. "Who's been taking care of me, cleaning me up, changing my bandages?"

"That would be Jack, lass." He winked.

You didn't know what to make of it. Surely it wasn't odd to have him do it, but the thought was a little uncomfortable. That he'd been the person to reach under your shirt and patch you up…

Not knowing what to say, you stayed silent. There was the soft clink of glass against glass as Gibbs poured you more water. The pain in your side had dulled to an ache. This, unfortunately, let you focus on the awkwardness of the situation.

You took a long sip of water and thought about how long it would take to get up and moving again. You'd have to stay in Jack's room for a long time. It hadn't been so bad when you were asleep, but with the knowledge of where you actually were, you felt embarrassed. You had a good idea of the rumors that could start.

"How long will it take for me to walk again?"

"It could take weeks. Two, most likely."

Oh dear. If Jack slept in the chair that long, he'd get moody. Not to mention, sleeping in the same room with him felt a little improper. Not that you'd ever cared about propriety.

Why did it feel so odd? You slept around men all the time. All the crew's hammocks were in the same spot. You were one of the few females, and you were surrounded by men every day.

When it came to sleeping around Jack, there was a little fluttering sensation in your chest. You told yourself it was hardly different than sleeping around any other man, but it didn't feel that way to you.

A small space at the back of your brain told you it was because you didn't feel the same about other men as you did about Jack. Other men were other men, and Jack was Jack. He was special to you, more important, closer to you. It made your feelings for him stronger.

Every time this part of your brain turned on, you promptly shut it off and hoped it would disappear. Of course Jack was special to you, but thinking like that might lead to the wrong things. To thinking about deeper feelings you didn't want to acknowledge. To actual, raw feelings you convinced yourself you didn't have.

Gibbs left, and you hated the thought of waiting for company. It could be hours before someone decided to talk to you.

It wasn't. First, Anamaria came barging in, checking to see that her fellow woman was okay. Members of the crew filed in after her, taking turns talking with you. You were glad to see all your friends cared, but it was a little overwhelming. You talked so much that you hardly remembered eating lunch or dinner.

It was as you were getting drowsy again that Jack stepped in. He looked worn; the bags under his eyes were deeper than usual, and he moved with an uncharacteristic slowness. He slumped into his chair before looking at you.

Despite his exhausted demeanor, he still had a spark in his eyes. They were focused on you.

"Jack, are you okay?"

"Love, I don't think you have the right to be asking." A smirk returned to his face, and though it looked tired, it was there.

"But you look awful!"

"I'm not the one lying abed with a stab wound."

He had a point. "Alright, but at least I've been sleeping. You don't look like you've gotten any rest."

"There's no need to worry about me, love."

"I can at least share the bed." It was out of your mouth before you had even thought about what you were saying. A blush crept up your cheeks, and you hoped Jack wouldn't see it in the dim light.

The look of surprise on his face was quickly hidden when he took a long sip of rum. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm not sure that would be a good idea, what with your wound and all." He wiggled a finger in the general direction of your stomach.

No matter how nonchalant he was trying to sound, he was failing.

"You aren't getting any rest," you argued weakly. You weren't sure if you wanted him to sleep with you or not.

He sighed. "I haven't been sleeping for more reasons than just that, love."

Your heart rate spiked. "What do you mean?"

"I- I worried about you."

Verbally showing that he cared had never been one of Jack's strong suits. He had a hard time admitting when he was afraid for someone, or if he even genuinely liked them. It meant a lot to you that he talked about worrying about you.

"I'm alright," you assured him. "You don't need to worry anymore."

"Right." He scratched the back of his neck.

"That chair can't be comfortable."

"Thank you for reminding me." He grimaced.

An awkward silence ensued. You suspected that no matter how uncomfortable the chair was, he would stay in it. You idly tapped your fingers against the blankets. Two weeks of this tension. Two weeks. You hoped things would feel normal again quickly. Maybe they would move you once you started feeling better, and you and Jack could go back to joking and drinking with each other.

To your surprise, Jack rose out of the chair. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed. His hands moved to take off his shoes, and you had the feeling he was stalling for time.

Once his shoes were off, he turned to you, raising an eyebrow. You smiled softly, trying to assure him that you were fine with sharing the space. The bed was too big for one person, anyway.

He stretched his legs out on the bed and laid down on his back. He stared at the ceiling instead of looking at you.

You needed to break the silence. It was killing you. "What happened to the Spanish ship?" You asked.

"Mmn?" He stretched, raising his arms above his head. "It went its own way."

"No treasure?"

"No."

"You seem to get us into lots of trouble. And there's very little compensation," you teased.

He turned to you, pouting. "That's not my fault."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"Trust me, love, I like treasure as much as the next man."

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, Jack." Perhaps it was unfair to use his own quote against him.

He grunted, returning his gaze to the ceiling. You moved your hand so it was brushing his. He didn't look at you, but you saw his eyes go a little wider. Gently, you wrapped your fingers around his.

He shifted onto his side to face you, but kept your hand firmly in his grasp. The other hand hovered, not quite sure where to rest itself. It finally decided on the sheets between you.

You were unsure of what to say, so you didn't say anything at all, letting the silence settle between you.

"Are you okay?" Jack's voice was more sullen than usual.

"I am now. I was afraid of dying back then, but I figure that by now, I've made it through the worst."

"I hope so, love." He moved closer, trailing a hand through your hair. He played with a lock, rolling it between his fingers.

"The wound isn't so bad, now." You looked at his fingers and how they weaved through your hair. "Thank you. For taking care of me the whole time."

He said nothing, but continued to run his hands through your hair. He laid on his back again. This time, you rested your head against his chest. The closeness felt nice. This way, there wasn't a need to talk.

For a long time, you lay there, soaking in each other's company. You traced little patterns in the fabric of his shirt with a finger. He had an arm under you, holding you close.

Your fingers found the spot in his shoulder where bullets had passed through. It was true that he'd had near-death experiences. You wondered if you'd had one, too. "Jack, how close did I come to dying?"

"Close."

"Oh."

"It's part of the job, love." You could tell his heart wasn't in the statement. "Have you ever considered anything else?"

"Why would I?"

"Piracy is dangerous. More than you know. I've been doing this longer than you have, and I've seen things."

"I know the risk well enough, Jack." You had just been stabbed.

"You could live in a cottage somewhere. Do something else. Be safe."

"The world is a dangerous place. Nobody's really safe anywhere."

He looked at you with sad eyes. "You could be safer."

"Jack, please. I'd rather live a fast life, one with strong relationships, adventure, and good times. Safety doesn't mean happiness. We both know this.

"I've had the time of my life here, on the Pearl. With you and the rest of the crew. As a kid, it was all I ever wanted. I wanted to go on adventures and meet new people, and I have. It's still what I want. I wouldn't trade this life for safety. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Jack held you a little closer. "You're still stubborn." Even if you couldn't see it due to how you were laying on him, you could hear the smile in his voice.

"It's not such a bad thing, is it?"

"Not particularly, love."

"Good. Because I'm fully intent on staying right here." You were. No injury, no experience, and certainly no person would keep you away. Which was just as well. You couldn't go anywhere for the moment, anyway.

You drifted off to sleep, thinking of how the next two weeks might not actually be so bad.

#x reader #potc #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow x reader #jack sparrow #captain jack sparrow #writing #drabble #request

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sim-songs · 5 years ago

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“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

So I wanted to answer all of these, because why not you know? @dreamsongsims now you can learn more about Belgium ;)

It’s under the read more so I don’t clog up your dashboards.

1. favourite place in your country? Honestly my home. I am living in Antwerp right now with the bf and I honestly love it, even though we aren’t really going outside much right now bc of the virus. I do miss the green and the “not city” smell haha

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad? I am okay with both. My family always goes on vacations during holidays, the last few years we’ve gone to Thailand for example but I’m more interested in staying closer to home. I LOVE Norway and want to go on holiday there again but it’s expensive.

3. does your country have access to sea? Yes. 67 kilometers of ugly “badsteden” lol (literally means bathing towns). To be honest I like the coast in the Netherlands better because it isn’t as gray and superficial.

4. favourite dish specific for your country? A nice “frietje van de frituur” (french fries), specifically a “frietje speciaal”, that’s french fries with ketchup, mayo and thinly sliced onion.

5. favourite song in your native language? I hate Belgian music, absolutely despise every Dutch song on the radio. But if I have to pick one its Goud from Bazart, it’s an older song by now but it’s one of the few I did not mind listening to.

6. most hated song in your native language? As soon as I read this I immediately thought of Banaan from Jebroer. Just shudders ugh. But really all Dutch songs in this style.

7. three words from your native language that you like the most? I’m gonna paste my earlier answer here: Hmm that's a hard one for me... Gezellig is a word I've always liked bc it doesn't have a real translation, just like cozy or smt. Another one I like is grassprietjes, meaning blades of grass bc it sounds funny and kinda rolls of the tongue and non dutch people will never be able to properly say that! and a third is eenzaam, meaning lonely. I don't really know why I like that one tbh

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom? I don’t really remember ever being confused for another nationality. I have read that Dutch sounds like German on crack, and that Belgian Dutch is easier than Netherlands Dutch for foreigners.

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best? Visit most: France and Germany, I have been to them both already but never for long and a long time ago. Know best: Probably the Netherlands. We share a language after all so we share some cultural things! (Does Temptation Island count as a cultural thing lol?)

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language? Mmm tough one to answer, because me and my bf are big English speakers so most of our swearing is of the “fuck” variety. I like “godverdomme” (god dammit) and what my dad sometimes says “godverdomme miljaarde nondeju” (there is literally nothing I can do to translate this)

11. favourite native writer/poet? I can’t think of any poets, but I like the writer Valerie Eykmans, specifically the book “Verloren Maandag”

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem? So I really like “Het Weer” by Hugo Claus, I even have a poster in our living room with the poem in his handwriting.

Weather

How was the weather in the country without you? At first mist fell over the concrete mountains.

Then the sun hung like mist over the mother-of-pearl sand.

Then the sky moved and became clammy as your armpits.

A lightning closed my teeth.

And everywhere the smell rose of the big animals that don't exist

unless in the ringing of your ear, in the rustle of your hair.

That's how it was back there without you. You are the air pressure and the dew and the snow in my skull.

It does not rhyme much in Dutch, it’s more about the rhythm of the words, so as far as the translation goes it’s pretty accurate in it’s contents but the rhythm is definitely off in the translated version

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders? What immediately comes to mind is the whole “Sinterklaas” problem where every year the discourse starts again whether or not the “Zwarte Pieten” are racist. Honestly not gonna comment on that because it’s not my place to feel offended or otherwise about this issue. Another thing that’s a bit more lighthearted is the “jaarmarkt” in our hometown, it’s like a big market that always finds place on the first sunday of the year. There’s a “stoet” (procession) with the walking orchestra, horses, horses and carriages, dogs and a whole load of tractors all going to get blessed at the church where the pastor throws holy water on everyone passing by. I have a love hate relationship with this tradition because it’s always freezing, and the tractors take forever to end. Oh and the main street of our town is completely closed of and there’s a big market with stalls in the street and everyone gets drunk of of the “jenevers” from the Scouts stalls lol.

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV? Not really, the only thing I used to watch was “Helden van Hier: Brandweer” (Heroes from here: fire brigade), it was just following the fire brigade around to fires and what not.

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get? ah je moe kakken moe je kakken he 😉

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with? Hate: Belgians are small-minded people not interested in anything going on outside of their home. Just not true at all. Sure there are people like that but every country has those. Agree: Belgians are hard to get to know. I hear this one a lot and I can see why people say that.

17. are you interested in your country’s history? Copied from an earlier answer: I am interested in history in general, it was one of my favourite classes in high school. I do like learning about Belgian history, mainly because Belgian history is, in one term, a messy bitch

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language? Yes, I speak with a “Kempisch” accent, but in general I’m still pretty understandable.

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem? I really don’t care about our flag, the Flemish Lion is being overly politicized to exclude the Walons lately and our national anthem is meh, no one can sing it and it’s more of a joke to people my age I think.

20. which sport is The Sport in your country? Soccer (or football idk) and veldrijden (literally field riding, but cyclo-cross as the translation) GO Wout van Aert! (idc abt sports but he’s local to me so)

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be? I’m not sure if this means you want to get rid of it or if you want to memorialize it? Getting rid of “Manneken Pis” because he’s stupid and memorializing an entire classic “frietkot”

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed? Proud: Our cultural diversity and lately our banding together during the crisis Ashamed: All the racists (looking at you Vlaams Belang)

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country? BEER, ALL THE BEER

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country? Honestly our own nation is most joked about for good reasons. Flemish joke about the Walons and vice versa, and everyone jokes about the joke that is our government.

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country? I’m happy where I’m at now, so no.

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal? I have never seen any prominent representation of Belgian in a Hollywood movie.

27. favourite national celebrity? Probably Tom Waes

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites? We dont have much haha, we have rivers, most notably “De Shelde” which runs though Antwerp not too far from my apparment.

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country? Flemish and Walons have always had beef, so yeah.

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family? I had a phase where I was into genealogy and it’s safe to say I’m one of the most Belgian Belgians out there lol, especially on mothers side her family literally has been living in the same place since the 1600′s and my grandparents had never seen the ocean until my parents took them.

#ask game #non sims #dont mind me i just wanted to answer all of them #anyway if u dont care just scroll past

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a-singleboat · 6 years ago

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Accidents Mark a Soul

Word Count: 3041

Request: Can you please do a Joven x reader soulmate au - anon

A/N: I would like u all to know that my wonderful betas pulled some grade A editing on this for yall so give them some love, their acc will be tagged at the end!

Waking up with a burning chest and other parts was not how you wanted to start your day. It felt like you had been newly waxed and you fought the urge to write on your skin to make sure your soulmate was okay. You had settled long ago that you wouldn’t reach out to them unless your life depended on it. The amount of pain they had caused you already was an as good sign if any to keep your distance.

Your friends had theorized that your soulmate was apart of the army or whatever but you knew it couldn’t be. The injuries had never been too severe, mainly blunt force from being hit with blunt objects. You watched as letters formed on your arms, spelling out, “Hey, sorry for that. I just got my chest waxed for a punishment video.”

Excuses almost always came like that, which is also how you knew he wasn’t in the army. The excuse was always video-based and you got tired of the constant repetition.

You walked to the sink and scrubbed at the words until they faded to nothing. The ink swirled down the drain as you pat your arm dry. It was time for you to get ready for work, having been offered a job as a video editor for a company that labeled itself as, “Mythical.”

After doing some research on them, you came to the decision that you’d stay with them through the year-long contract but you’d search for something better the entire time you worked with them. You liked the company but you didn’t know if this was something you’d be willing to do forever.

You took the bus that morning, seeing as your car was still in the shop after a hit and run busted your trunk door. You thanked whatever deity was up there that the damage hadn’t been too extensive. Having a totaled car was the last thing you needed after the unfortunate string of bad luck you had been having.

When you had arrived at the building, you stood in front of it for a solid five minutes digging around in your bag for the temporary keycard you had been given to actually get past security in the building’s lobby. You rolled your eyes as you realized it was left hanging on your wall hooks along with your car keys, which you hadn’t grabbed due to the unfortunate event.

“Do you work here?” A man approached you from behind and your hand curled around the pepper spray you had in your bag. You internally screamed. How had you remembered to pack pepper spray and not your keycard?

You stood up straight and zipped up your bag, flashing a smile at the man. He was tall with brown hair, the fringe dyed blue, but he looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. “Yeah, I work here,” you smiled at him. “I was hired last week as an editor at Mythical.”

A look of realization flashed across his face, “Yeah, you’re actually working with us. We needed another editor after our last left and so we put out an ad through Mythical. I’m Damien, by the way.”

You introduced yourself and walked into the building with him, becoming more and more confused as he continued to talk. The two of you breezed by security, making a beeline for the elevator.

“Sorry, can we backtrack? Who is, ‘We’?”

“Were you never told who you were working with?”

“No, just that I got a job as an editor for a YouTube brand under Mythical,” you played with the straps on your bag.

“Oh,” he stepped aside to let people out of the elevator before stepping in. “Well, we are called Smosh and you’ll be working with a specific branch of Smosh called Smosh Games. You’ll essentially be taking footage from the board games we do and edit those. Eventually, if you work here longer than a year, you’ll start working on the video game videos and maybe you’ll get the chance to appear in some videos for extra pay.”

“Oh, well I’m not really planning on staying here for longer than a year,” you said awkwardly. “This job was an interim job for me, I used to work for another media company that went under last year.”

“Did you work for Altos?”

“Yeah, my friend had her YouTube channel under them but then they went under so she’s been shoddily trying to get her team back together. I’m editing a few things but it wouldn’t be enough to get by.”

The elevator door opened in front of you, signifying the end of the conversation.

“I’ll show you to the editor’s room and let Ian know you’re here,” Damien left the elevator first with you quick to follow.

You walked behind him, taking in the open space and the office desks laid out in a casual manner. There were office and meeting rooms that branched off from the middle and another open area that looked like a kitchen space within the office. Damien took a left and a right before ending up in front of a room decked with technology up to the ceiling.

“This is where the editors work and where we keep some of our recording cameras while we clean out the closet we usually store them in.”

“It looks nice,” you observed, looking around the room through the glass door. “Is anyone here right now?”

He looked around, “No, I think most are out for lunch but that desk over there is yours. It’s the old editor’s space but it’s all yours now!”

You thanked him and went into the room by yourself. You sat at the desk that he had pointed out to you and started to mess around on the computer. You soon found out that you needed a login to get into the computer and gave up on trying to get in without a password.

Pulling out your own laptop, you started to work on the two hours of footage your friend had sent you. Since her parent company got shut down, she’s been trying to rebuild her team on her own. As her previous editor, you told her that you’d help when you can, or at least until she could find full-time editor. It also helped that her mother was filthy rich and she wouldn’t have had any problems otherwise.

This was the last video you were going to edit for her, getting a hefty paycheck that would go towards a month of rent and two months of groceries. After that, she would have to look for a permanent editor that she could keep on payroll herself.

You were ripped from your daydream by a sharp pain on the back of your left arm. You pulled up your sleeve and watched as your skin separated from itself and fresh blood pearled on the surface of your skin. You rolled your eyes before pulling your bag up onto your lap to look for the bandaids you brought around with you in case your soulmate got hurt during the day.

You heard the door open behind you and you spun around with your arm in the air and a bandaid in your mouth. You waved at the man who had entered with your free hand before taking the bandaid from your mouth and opening it.

You reached out with your right hand and shook it, “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n.”

He shook it, introducing himself as Ian Hecox. “What’s up with your arm?”

You half-rolled your eyes, pulling your sleeve back over your arm. “My soulmate cut themselves, today has just been full of pain.”

He nodded in understanding, “Yeah, my soulmate used to get hurt all the time.”

You took note of his use of the past tense and decided to move on from that. “So I’m here for a year, what’s the gist of what I’ll be doing with you guys?”

“You’ll be introduced to the rest of the editing team as they trickle in, but you actually joined in the middle of Smosh Summer Games. Or at least, you joined in the middle of releasing all the videos from that filming period.”

“So what are the videos I’ll be editing for this period?”

“We have some Maricraft episodes where Mari, Courtney, Damien, and Shayne play Minecraft along to a sort of storyline, but you won’t be editing those. We’ll have you just take note of the editing style for them,” he explained, shifting his weight. “We’ll have you work on editing the Spelling Bee-Kini Wax video as that was what the old editor was supposed to take care of.”

You were about to ask about the spelling bee-kini wax when three people walked into the room.

“Perfect timing!” Ian clapped once. “Y/n, these are a few of our editors. Spencer, Mike, and Kevin.”

You looked at where he pointed and gave them each a smile.

“They’ll help you out from here on out and hopefully they’ll convince you to stay for longer than a year!”

You gave him a thumbs up and watched as he disappeared out the door.

“Let’s get you started with a log-in, yeah?” Kevin waved you over to your computer. “So you should already be in the system so it should be the first letter of your first name and four letters of your last name. The current password should be SMOSH:NEWEDITOR, no spaces, all caps, and it’ll tell you to change it when you log in.”

You typed out the username and password, sitting back to wait while the computer-processed everything. “So what’s the rest of the schedule today?”

“I’ll probably have you go down with Spencer to sit in the editors cave while a video is filmed so you can see what it’s like, I’m pretty sure a Smosh Games video is being filmed at this moment with Joven, Shayne, Damien, Lasercorn, Wes, Courtney, and Mari.”

You blinked, not sure of who the people listed were. Kevin took note of your confused look and laughed a little bit, “I know the names are off-putting but Spencer will introduce you when you get down there.”

“Okay,” you grabbed a notebook from your bag and followed Spencer out of the room.

“So, what’s this video for?”

“I’m not completely sure, I know that we’re just trying to get some content with Joven and Wes in before they leave for a bit,” Spencer fiddled with the pen in his hand.

“You’ll tell me who’s who when we get in there, right?” you nervously ran your finger over the exposed pages of your notebook, the feeling of the rifling papers calming you ever-so-slightly.

“Of course,” he reassured you. “I wouldn’t let you walk in blind.”

When you got to the set doors, you didn’t have much time to take in what the set actually looked like before you felt a sharp pain on your back. You stood frozen for a little bit under a full minute, taking in the pain that you had to endure. Spencer noticed you had stopped walking and turned back to ask what was wrong.

“I think my soulmate just got slapped on the back like really hard,” you were trying to roll out the pain by moving your shoulders back and around. “I bet I have a handprint mark on my back now.”

You knew you were coming off of bitter and resentful, but you couldn’t help it. So far that day, your soulmate had gotten waxed in two very sensitive areas, stabbed themselves in a very visible area, and gotten slapped by what seemed to be a giant not even two seconds ago.

“It’s whatever, I’ve survived with this soulmate for this long. It’s not as bad as a lot of other people have it,” you shook off the pain and followed Spencer into what was known on set as the Editor’s Den.

He introduced you to the video’s director, Matt Raub, who Spencer also mentioned was the acting Vice President of Smosh. He introduced you to the camera crew, though you barely managed to concentrate on the names that flew by as your soulmate managed to stub their toe.

Now that you thought about, there was a thought that the pain that your soulmate feels gets stronger the closer in proximity that you both get. If it was any consolation, the amount of pain you were feeling meant your soulmate was within slapping distance.

That was the soulmate loophole, you didn’t feel any pain you caused to your soulmate. Which meant you could slap whoever your soulmate was without feeling anything.

“Spencer, I might have to kill my soulmate,” you rubbed your temples to ward off the headache you felt coming. It’s a good thing was that if you got a migraine, your soulmate would feel it too. “How is it humanly possible for someone to get hurt this many times in such a short amount of time?”

“I don’t know, but the cast has arrived!”

He introduced you to the cast members but you focused in on the bandaid the man called, “Joven,” had on his left arm in the same spot you had yours in.

You smiled and introduced yourself, careful not to reveal anything to the person that could possibly be your soulmate. If you had finally found him after thirty years of pain and he was definitely within slapping distance, you could wait another hour or so more to confront him about it.

You sat in the corner with Spencer, taking notes along with him. During the filming break, he went over things that you should look out for while watching the filming. You turned the page and pull your hand back in shock at the sudden pain from the paper.

“Do you have a bandaid, Spencer? I left all mine back in the room,” you were tempted to suck on your cut but you knew it would most likely end up in an infection.

“No, but Joven usually keeps bandaids on him. He’s really accident-prone,” Spencer answered, not even looking up from his notes.

You looked around the room in search of Joven, or otherwise known as your supposed soulmate, and saw him standing by a chair near the back of the room. He was tending to the small papercut on his own hand that you had caused.

“Hey,” you greeted him. “Spencer said you had bandaids? I usually have some in my bag but I left it back in the editing room.”

“Yeah,�� he replied without looking up. He passed you a small bandaid, you didn’t know if it was a coincidence or if he didn’t have any regular sized bandaids. He finally looked up at you and then down at where you were applying the adhesive strip.

“Hey, did you just do that to yourself?” he asked, looking the slightest bit confused.

“I did,” you replied. “Gave myself a papercut on my editing notebook.”

He pointed at and poked the bandaid on the back of your left arm. “What about that?”

You recoiled slightly, falling back into yourself. “No, my soulmate cut themselves earlier.”

This was the moment of truth, if he was your soulmate then he would use this to reveal him as so. You watched as he rolled up his left sleeve, a bandaid in a similar spot.

“No way,” he said in astonishment. “Wait, let me grab a marker.”

You grinned in amusement as he sauntered across the room in search of a marker. When he had found one, he raised it triumphantly above his head and made his way back over to you.

He uncapped the pink marker and asked you to hold out your left arm. “What should I write?”

You shrugged, “Just write your name or something.”

You watched as he wrote his name, Joshua, on his own arm and the both of you watched as the ink also appeared on your arm as well.

“You’re my soulmate?” he questioned. You were confused, you thought this moment was supposed to be the climax of your life, the moment you’d been waiting for so long.

“I am,” you were taken aback. This was the opposite of whatever reaction you thought you would be getting. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just,” he stammered. “How come you never responded to me? The messages I would send you would just disappear.”

“I did respond to you, I responded to you for fifteen years and then fifteen years later you told me you were getting married and so I said my congratulations,” you were angry at him. Not for getting married, no, being soulmates didn’t mean you had to be romantically involved with them. It just meant that your two souls were the ones that were infused together when the world had begun and they would find each other through every rebirth. Some people do end up together but in most cases, soulmates stayed as the closest friends and it was their bond that kept them close.

“I started washing the messages away for personal reasons,” you said. You were rethinking everything up to this point in your life. “Maybe we shouldn’t have even met, our link had turned before we even met.”

When a link between soulmates turned, it meant that the souls combining the two were weak. This usually happened with souls that were so old and reused that no connection is feasible, or if the two people were just incompatible. It seemed that was what this was turning out to be.

“Listen, we don’t know to keep up contact. I know I work here now, but it’s just for the year. You won’t ever have to talk to me,” you reasoned.

“No,” he shook his head. “I might be a little mad but I wouldn’t reject you as a soulmate.”

He opened his arms and engulfed you in a hug, “Our souls haven’t turned and they won’t for a long time. It’s good to know my soulmate isn’t a complete asshole though, and when you feel comfortable enough, I hope you can tell me the reasons why you had stopped responding.”

“Maybe, but we have forever to talk now.”

=================

these are my lovely betas!

@star-mum

@spookylegshayne

@my-name-i-we

@judastarkid

give them love!!!!! they worked hard to make sure the finished project was as amazing as any other work of mine has been, but y’know, better :)

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secular-jew · 6 years ago

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Zio Upbringings and Kvetchings in the Trumpian era

Zio Upbringings and Kvetchings in the Trumpian era.

I'm an American Jew who has does not suffer from moral wavering. I'm also an American Reform Jew that is neither Kashrut nor Kosher-observant.

My synagogue growing up was located in the the Boston suburbs, nestled amidst Protestant communities and dotted with Jews who somehow landed a port shy of Ellis Island. Attended shul almost exclusively during important Holidays and Hebrew school weekends through Bar-Mitvah.

At the age of 10, I remember the start to the Soviet-armament-supplied multilateral Arab-state war against Israel, a Pearl-Harbor style event lasting three harrowing weeks and almost wiping Israel off the map.

Word spread fast to reach North American Jews some 5,500 miles (8,800 kms) to the west. I remember hearing the tragic news Saturday morning during Yom Kippur services. The attack occupied 100% of the Sermon delivered by our Rabbi, who was known as Moses because he actually looked and spoke like Moses. He worried aloud that this could portend the end of our homeland, but concluded that the spark of Zionism was eternal: something that could never be extinguished by modern would-be colonizers. This thought that resonated deeply inside my soul.

This was thankfully a war that Israel survived, but was also a battle that Golda Meir ultimately lost, as she resigned just 1 month following her Labor Party's 1974 election win. Remember her final words as Israel's leader: "I have reached the end of my road."

My first physical intersection with Israel occurred in my late teens and early 20's, when I visited extensively what was the modern chapter of an 4,000-year old ancient Jewish story. Exploring 1979-1982 Israel meant stints to some obvious places; Jerusalem, Tel-Aviv, Haifa, Jaffa, Tiberius, and Eilat, Sinai (including a climb up/down Mt Sinai), the northern Golan Heights, the donut-hole known as Hebron, and the Dome of the Rock, the Jew's oldest extant relic. This is the place where Abraham is said to submitted to God's request that he sacrifice his son. Strange how this shrine has now submitted to a colonialist Islamic overlord.

Then came the Kibbutz experience, which meant living the communal lifestyle in Lower Galilee, sleeping on cots in the international guest quarters, up at 4:30am transported out to the fields, and picking pears until it got so hot, you felt like you were standing on the side of the sun.

All well worth the effort as the work day ended around lunch, at which point, we ate a lot of hummus and squeezed copious quantities of ruby-red Israeli grapefruits chilling in large stainless steel refrigerators. After lunch, we cooled down in the community pool, and in the evenings, hung with our Israeli contemporaries while listening to Bob Marley or the Doors, and smoking hashish for the first time. These are two experiences that transcended culture. I felt so at home, and even gained a Sabra girlfriend by the name of Rachel רָחֵל‎ (pictured).

In short, what I considered to be a typical Reform Jewish-American upbringing. (Or American-Jewish?)

Fast forward to present political leanings. Raised a JFK-liberal (liberal in its true meaning; rooted in idea-tolerance and acceptance of diverse views).

As a middle-schooler, I recollect being enamored by McGovern, although not sure exactly how or why. We were all indoctrinated into believing Nixon (one of the greatest friends to Israel, not something I had any clue about) was innately evil. Looking back at that period now, my political stylings appear to have been crafted mainly by academia, the news media, and my peers - all who seemed driven by a sanitized, 1980's version of TDS that could have been called: 'Nixon Derangement Syndrome.'

Once legal age, I was a 'de rigeur' Democrat, which thankfully lasted only a few short minutes. Not able to cast a vote in the 1976 election, I remember nonetheless favoring Jimmy Carter, a folksy down-to-earth ex-peanut-farmer who seemed very popular in the state of Massachusetts where I grew up. Carter morphed into nothing less than a clueless and spineless "progressive" who oversaw the dismantling of principled American leadership.

In high school, a few of us in the dormitory got to stay up late every night to watch "The Iran Crisis–America Held Hostage: Day "xxx" (where xxx represented the number of days that Iranians held the occupants of our U.S. Embassy hostage). The only TV in the building was located in the dorm-masters living room. I watched sitting next to my hall-mate Abdullah Hussein, the same person who became the King of Jordan and who sits on the Hashemite apartheid throne today. We had many discussions in which I defended Israel and lauded her accomplishments in defeating Arab imperialism, while Abdullah retorted with accusations of Jewish occupation and bloodlust at Deir Yassin. I did not have enough knowledge of the incident or of earlier examples of Arab genocide (such as the Hebron massacre and other Jewish genocides) to counter-punch effectively.

During my college years, I tended towards Democrat "moral" policies and candidates, until that goofy Georgian came along. At first, I naively admired Carter's straightforward folksy persona. But eventually, the President’s peanut incompetence drove me to #WalkAway from a party-lone Democrat.

I was proud of myself for making an independent decision (pun intended) and have little idea if any of my peers followed suit, but suffice to say, I have voted forcefully against Democrats up and down the ticket pretty much ever since, with a few exceptions. I consider Trump an pragmatic Independent masquerading as a Republican, not dissimilar to Democrat Bloomberg - who as Mayor of NYC masqueraded as a Republican.

Much as my odium for Carter drove me to #Jexit and advocate for Reagan, my contempt for Obama's virulently anti-America values drove me to become a self-assertive 'deplorable.' Between Reagan and Trump, every other voting-booth decision appeared to present itself as largely a Hobson's choice between a lesser of two evils.

Although Trump possesses virtually no tact and represents the antithesis of my personal style, I appreciate the skill and speed with which he accomplishes things, from building tall luxury residential condos -- to creating a global brand, to the refurbishment of Wolman's Rink in Central Park. His support of Israel, unlike his predecessors, is legion, documented, and consistent. Trump not only moved the Embassy to its rightful place, not only installed an incredible Ambassador, not only praises Israel at every turn, he constantly rebukes Israel's enemies (who should be everyone's enemies). I love that Israel renamed the Golan Heights in his honor. It's almost better than getting the Rec Room in the Ft. Lauderdale condo named after someone rich in your extended family.

Today? There's no political party for me. The Democrats are a shrill hodgepodge of looney-tunes and ill-tolerant blabbermouths who are given way too much airtime on CNN and what I now call MSLSD (aka, MSDNC).

In terms of policy, On social issues like marriage equality, I'm a dyed-in-the-wool Liberal. On local/national fiscal issues, I'm a decided Conservative. On international affairs, I'm a Hawk who majored in International Relations while attending Sciences-Po in Paris (an excuse to massively inhale croque-monsieurs) and firmly believe the US had relevant ethical global leadership responsibilities, a mantle given up by Europe. This meant leading from the front, not from behind. My philosophy became characterized by the notion that appeasement of tyrannies led by autocrats or theocrats was a policy doomed to failure, proven again and again throughout every civilization. Appeasement in the face of aggression has led to more death and destruction, and more insecurity, not less.

It's becoming evident, sadly, that history promises to repeat. Why? This seems to happen in a matter of a few generations. Case in point: Millennials (aka snowflakes) who are too far removed from the trauma of warfare to comprehend evil. Millennials steeped and indoctrinated in re-written and falsified academic narratives. Millennials who virtue signal intolerantly through the lens of victimization. The generation that seems to have lost a sense of moral courage and severed any emotional ties to the 'never-forget' tragedies that are meant to not be forgotten.

My thoughts on our homeland:

I'm a devout 2-state (Israel-Jordan) Zionist as per the 1917 Balfour Declaration and affirmed by the 1920 San Remo Conference (attended by Chaim Weizmann). I see Israel as an inherently Jewish state in its DNA, but which is secular in its jurisprudence.

Next year in Jerusalem.

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gaming-rabbot · 7 years ago

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Salmon Run and Presentation

A (not so) brief dissertation on narrative framing in video games, featuring Splatoon 2

With the holidays in full swing, I took advantage of a deal one day when I went into town, and finally got my hands on Splatoon 2. Having loved the prior game as much as I did, waiting this long to get the sequel felt almost wrong. But like many another fellow meandering corpus of conscious flesh, I am made neither of time nor money.

Finally diving in, I figured I might take this excuse to remember that I write game reviews, sometimes. You know, when the tide is high, the moon blue, and the writer slightly less depressed. I ended up scrapping my first couple drafts, however. You see, a funny thing was happening; I kept veering back into talking about Salmon Run, the new optional game mode the sequel introduces.

Also I might look at the Octo Expansion later, on its own. After I get around to it…

Look, the base game already has a lot of content to explore, and as previously stated, I am sadly corporeal, and not strung together with the metaphysical concept of time itself.

My overall thoughts, however, proved brief, so I’ll try to keep this short.

(Mild spoilers coming along.)

Gameplay wise, I think the story mode is much improved upon by handing you different weapons for certain levels which were specifically built with them in mind. Whereas the prior game left you stuck with a variant of the starter splattershot all the way through. This keeps things interesting, pushes me outside of my comfort zone, and it’s a good way to make sure players will come from a well-informed place when deciding what weapon they want for multiplayer; which, let’s face it, is the real meat of these games and where most players are going to log the most time.

I also love the way bosses are introduced with the heavy drums and rhythmic chants and the dramatic light show. It endows the moment with a fantastic sense of gravitas, and manages to hype me up every time. Then the boss will have an aspect of their design which feels a bit silly or some how rather off, keeping the overall tone heavily grounded in the toony aesthetics the series already established for itself.

Narratively, I felt rather okay about the story aspect of Story Mode. The collectible pages in the levels still have a certain amount of world building, though this time it seems more skewed toward explaining what pop culture looks like in this world, such as, an allusion to this world’s equivalent to Instagram.

Cynical as it is…

That’s definitely still interesting in its own right, though perhaps it’s less of a revelatory gut-punch as slowly piecing it together that the game takes place in the post-apocalypse of Earth itself, and the inklings copied ancient human culture.

We still got some backstory for this game’s idol duo, though. And that, I appreciate. It means Pearl and Marina still feel like a part of this world, rather than seeming obligatory for the sake of familiarity, given the first game had an idol duo as well.

Meanwhile, perhaps it is a bit obvious that Marie’s cousin, Callie, has gone rogue, and that she is the mysterious entity cracking into the radio transmissions between her and Agent 4. If I recall correctly, that was a working theory that came about with the first trailer or two. That, or she had died.

As soon as Marie says aloud she wonders where Callie has gone, I knew right away. And that’s just in the introduction.

That said, on some level, after stomaching through certain other games and such that actively lie or withhold information to force an arbitrary plot twist for plot twist sake, it feels almost nice to go back to a narrative that actually bothers to foreshadow these things. Plus, having gotten already invested in Callie as a character from the first game, I still felt motivated to see the story through to find out why she went rogue. And, loving the Squid Sisters already, there was a hope in me that she could be redeemed, or at least understood. In terms of building off the prior game’s story, Splatoon 2 is moderately decent.

Also, I mean, c’mon. The big narrative drive might be a tad predictable, but hey, this game is for kids. It’s fine.

That, I think, is something I love the most about Splatoon. Despite feeling like you’re playing in a Saturday morning cartoon, and being aimed primarily at children, it doesn’t shy away from fairly heavy subjects. Such as the aforementioned fact that the humans are all long dead and you’re basically playing paintball in the ruins of their consumerist culture.

Which brings me to what fascinates me so much about Splatoon 2: the way in which Salmon Run is framed.

You see, on the surface, Salmon Run appears to be your typical horde mode; a cooperative team (typically comprised of randoms) fights off gaggles of foes as they take turns approaching their base in waves. Pretty standard for online shooters these days, as was modernly popularized by Gears of War 2, and Halo ODST.

I say “modernly,” as the notion of fighting enemies as they approach in waves is not exactly a new concept for mechanical goals within video games. Rather, the term itself, as applied to multiplayer shooters, “horde mode,” became a point of game discussion when Gears of War 2 introduced the new game mode by that same name back in… 2008?

No, no that can’t be right. I played Gears 2 back in high school (I had worse taste back then, okay?). Which, from my perspective, was basically yesterday. That game being ten years old would mean I myself am old now, and that just can’t be. I’m hip. I’m young.

I am, to stay on theme here, fresh.

But okay, existential crises and game talk terms aside, the writing team behind Splatoon 2 probably decided to absolutely flex when it came to the narrative surrounding Salmon Run. It is one of the most gleaming examples of the nontraditional things you can do with writing in video games, to really elevate the experience.

Let me explain.

You see, narrative in video games typically falls into one of two categories: either the story sits comfortably inside of the game, utilizing it like a vehicle to arrive at the destination that is its audience’s waiting eyes and ears. Or the narrative, on some level, exists rather nebulously, primarily to provide something resembling context for why the pixels look the way they do, and why the goals are what they are.

Not to say this is a binary state of existence for game writing; narrative will of course always provide context for characters, should there be any. It’s primarily older, or retro games that give you a pamphlet or brief intro with little in the way of worrying over character motivation, and the deeper philosophical implications of the plot, etc (though not for lack of trying). These would be your classic Mario Bros. and what have you, where the actual game part of the video game is nearly all there is to explore in the overall experience.

Then you have games like Hotline Miami that purposely sets up shop right in the middle to make a meta commentary about the state of game narrative, using the ideological endpoint of violent 80’s era action and revenge-fantasy genre film as inspiration and the starting point to draw comparison between the two. It’s bizarre, and I could drone on about this topic.

But I digress.

Despite falling into that latter category, that is to say having mainly just an introduction to the narrative context so you can get on with playing the game, Salmon Run is a stellar example of how you can make every bit of that context count (even if it does require the added context of the rest of the game, sort of, which I’ll explain, trust me).

First, a (very) brief explanation of how the game itself works, for the maybe three of you who haven’t played it yet.

A team of up to four inklings (and/or octolings) have a small island out in open waters. Salmonid enemies storm the beaches from various angles in waves. Each wave also comes with (at least) one of eight unique boss variants, who all drop three golden eggs upon defeat. Players are tasked with gathering a number of said golden eggs each round, for three rounds, after which their failure or success in doing so shows slow or fast progress towards in-game rewards.

And it’s all an allegory for the poor treatment of labor/workers, utilizing the fishing industry as both an example and a thematically appropriate analogue. Yes, I’m serious.

First, Salmon Run is not available through the main doors like the other multiplayer modes. Rather, it is off to the side, down a dingy looking alley. And when you’re shown its location, either because you finally entered the Inkopolis plaza for the first time, or because the mode has entered rotation again, Marina very expressly describes it as a job.

A job you should only do if you are absolutely, desperately hard strapped for cash. You know, the sort of job you turn to if, for one reason or another, you can’t find a better one.

An aside: technically, playing Salmon Run does not automatically net you in-game currency, with which to buy things, as regular multiplayer modes do. Rather, your “pay” is a gauge you fill by playing, which comes with reward drops at certain thresholds; some randomized gacha style capsules, and one specific piece of gear which gets advertised, to incentivize playing.

The capsules themselves drop actual paychecks in the form of aforementioned currency, or meal tickets to get temporary buffs that help you progress in the multiplayer faster via one way or another. Which, hey, you know, that helps you earn more money also. Working to get “paid,” so you can get things you want, though, still works perfectly for the metaphor it creates.

When I first saw it open up for rotation, I found out you had to be at least a level four to participate. Pretty par for the course, considering it’s the same deal with the gear shops. But, again, it’s all in the presentation; Mr. Grizz does not simply say something akin to the usual “you must be this tall to ride.” He says he cannot hire inexperienced inklings such as yourself, because it’s a legal liability.

After returning with three extra levels, I was handed off to basic, on-the-job training. Which is only offered after Mr. Grizz (not ever physically present, mind you, but communicating with you via radio), the head of Grizzco, uses fairly typical hard sell rhetoric when it comes to dangerous, or otherwise undesirable work: calls you kid, talks about shaping the future and making the world a better place, refers to new hires as “fresh young talent,” says you’ll be “a part of something bigger than yourself.” You know, the usual balancing act of flattery, with just the right amount of belittlement.

Whoa, hang on, sorry; just had a bad case of deja vu from when the recruiter that worked with the ROTC back in high school tried to get me to enlist… several times… Guess he saw the hippie glasses and long hair and figured I'd be a gratifying challenge.

The fisher imagery really kicks in when you play. Which, I figure a dev team working out of Japan might have a pretty decent frame of reference for that. A boat whisks you out to sea with your team, and everyone’s given a matching uniform involving a bright orange jumper, and rubber boots and gloves. If you've ever seen the viral video of the fisherman up to his waist in water telling you not to give up, you have a rough idea. Oh, and don't forget your official Grizzco trademark hats.

It’s on the job itself where a lot of what I'm talking about comes up the most; that is to say, despite buttering you up initially, Mr. Grizz shows his true colors pretty quickly. While playing, he seems to only be concerned with egg collecting, even when his employees are actively hurting. This is established and compounded by his dialogue prior to the intermediate training level, in which informs you about the various boss fish.

Before you can do anything remotely risky, even boss salmonid training, Mr. Grizz tells you he has to go over this 338 page workplace health and safety manual with you. But, oops, the new hire boat sounds the horn as you flip to page 1, so he sends you off unprepared. “Let’s just say you’ve read it,” he tells you, insisting that learning by doing is best.

This flagrant disregard employee safety, in the name of met quotas; the fact we never see Mr. Grizz face to face, making him this vague presence that presides over you, evaluating your stressed performance with condescension; that we are not simply given the rewards as we pass thresholds to earn them, having to instead speak with another, unknown npc for our pay… It all drives toward the point so well.

The icing on the cake for me is when a match ends. You, the player, are not asked if you’d like to go back into matchmaking for another fun round of playtime. Rather, you are asked if you would like to “work another shift.”

The pieces all fit so well together. I shouldn’t be surprised that, once a theme is chosen, Splatoon can stick to it like my hand to rubber cement that one time. It has already proven it can do that much for sure. But it’s just so… funny? It’s bitterly, cynically hilarious.

Bless the individual(s) who sat in front of their keyboard, staring at the early script drafts, and asked aloud if they were really about to turn Mr. Grizz into a projection of all the worst aspects of the awful bosses they’ve had to deal with in life. The answer to that question being “yes” has led to some of my favorite writing in a video game.

All of these thoughts, as they started forming in my skull, really began to bubble when I noticed Salmon Run shifts become available during my first Splatfest.

Splatfest is, to try and put it in realistic terms, basically a huge, celebratory sporting event. Participation nets you a free commemorative t-shirt and access to a pumping concert featuring some of the hottest artists currently gracing the Inkopolis charts.

The idea, the notion, that a hip young inkling (or octoling) might miss out on one of the biggest parties of the year because they need money more than they need fun? It’s downright depressing.

It got me thinking. I looked at my fellow egg collectors. In-universe, we were a bunch of teen-to-young-adult aged denizens missing out on all the fun because we desperately needed the cash. We became stressed together, overworked together, yelled at by our boss together. But in those sweetest victories, where we’d far surpassed our quota? We celebrated together.

Spam-crouching, and mashing the taunt, something changed. I felt a greater sense of comradery with these squids and octos than I did in nearly any other coop game. And it’s all thanks to the rhetorical framing of the game mode.

It accomplishes so many things. It’s world building which wholistically immerses you in the setting. But mainly, its dedication to highly specific word choice does exactly what I mentioned earlier: it elevates the experience to one I could really sit down and think about, rather than use to while away the hours, then move on to something else. So many games make horde modes that feel inconsequential like that; it’s just for fun.

There’s nothing wrong with fun being the only mission statement for a game, or an optional mode of play. But this is exactly what I mean when I say this is the nontraditional writing games can do so much more with. And Splatoon 2 saw that opportunity, and took it. And what a fantastic example of bittersweet, cold reality, in this, a bright, colorful game meant mainly for children…

Happy Holidays, everyone!

#Rabbot Reviews #video games #review #Splatoon 2 #Salmon Run #narrative #framing

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adorebughead · 8 years ago

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Christmas Eve will find me where the lovelight gleams.

Betty Cooper arrives at the Andrews household for another of their traditional Christmas Eve celebrations, only to be greeted by a tall, dark stranger who she'd had a rude encounter with a few years prior.

A little Christmas oneshot I wrote for @bettyjugheadarchieveronica for the Bughead Secret Santa - sorry it’s a little late! <3

Read on AO3.

Betty Cooper had always loved Christmas for many reasons. The warmth amidst the cold, her mother’s homemade cookies, and their small town covered in a perfect blanket of snow. How everything seemed so magical, like something out of a pretty snow globe. Amongst this, there was the one event she looked forward to every year, probably more so than anything else: Christmas Eve at the Andrews household.

It had been a tradition for as long as she could remember; herself, her mother, father, sister, Archie, Archie’s dad, and his mom before she picked up and left without much warning. It had never affected their tradition, though. They wouldn’t let it. For the past three years there had also been Archie’s girlfriend, Veronica Lodge, who had taken that eerily empty seat at the table, and who Betty had become quick friends with from the moment that they’d met.

“Betty,” Archie beamed, pulling her into a warm hug as they all exchanged their season’s greetings and removed their scarves and coats.

“Hey, girl,” Veronica cried, also welcoming Betty with open arms. She was sporting her signature pearls, her dark hair styled in perfect, classic curls, and she was wearing a flawless, matte red lipstick that matched perfectly with her velvet dress.

“How are you both?” Betty asked, hauling her bag of presents into the house with her and agreeing to a small glass of wine courtesy of Fred who was now taking everybody’s orders.

That was when Veronica held up her left hand with a gigantic smile accompanied by a high-pitched squeal. Betty’s jaw instantly dropped at the sight of a large, sparkling diamond sat on her ring finger.

“What?! Oh my god!” She bellowed, pulling them both into a group hug and jumping up and down as she did so. “When? How? Where?”

“Last night,” she raised her brows and laughed at Betty’s excitement mirroring her own.

“Ok, I need the full story,” Betty cried with a pause, “but first I need to put these down.”

Archie then took the bag for her, apologising for not doing so earlier and jokingly dropping his arm weakly at its weight. “Betty, you didn’t have to get us all of this.”

“You say that every year, Arch, and every year I tell you it’s not going to change so get used to it.”

They all giggled as they pushed open the slightly ajar living room door and made their way inside. It was warm and cosy and smelt like cinnamon, just like it always did, as a candle burned atop the fireplace. It wasn’t until Betty’s eyes fell on an unfamiliar face perched comfortably on the sofa with a book in hand that she stopped in her tracks for a moment.

She hadn’t expected anyone else to be here, and Archie hadn’t said anything, which she thought was slightly odd.

“Betty, you remember Jughead, right?” He lifted his head at the sound of his name, his eyes meeting Archie’s then falling on Betty almost instantly. The sudden eye contact alarmed her.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she replied, which she then realised was half true. She did remember Archie having a friend from college who she met very briefly once. He was cold and rude and tall and dark, and they were about eighteen at the time. She couldn’t remember his name.

“Jug’s staying with us this Christmas,” Archie continued, answering the questions he already knew were running through her head.

Betty smiled politely, nodding along. “Has Archie made you try his gingerbread yet?”

“God, no,” Jughead replied with a snigger, “I would never touch anything Archie baked.”

She laughed at this, as Archie let out a slight hey. “That’s very smart of you.”

They continued to hold eye contact for a moment, their smiles faltering ever so slightly; there was a hint of intrigue there, as though they’d never properly looked at another person quite like each other before and they were trying to piece together some sort of puzzle.

He was incredibly attractive, there was no doubt about it. He had a James Dean kind of vibe about him, or perhaps Johnny Depp in Cry Baby. Betty lost herself for a moment imagining Jughead as Wade and herself as Allison, riding on the back of a motorcycle and revelling in how much her mother would hate it, until a voice quite abruptly dragged her back to reality.

“Betty?” Archie asked, seemingly for the third or fourth time.

She shook her head, feeling her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Sorry, what?”

“We’re going to decorate the tree before dinner.”

She raised a brow and smiled, memories of Christmas Eves gone by flooding into her brain all at once.

“Sounds perfect.”

“I can’t believe they hadn’t decorated their tree already,” Jughead mumbled, his voice taking her off guard.

They had taken on the responsibility of decorating the left side of the tree, and Archie and Veronica had taken the right. The first five minutes had been filled with utter silence; Betty wondered if he was even going to talk to her at all.

Of course, usually she would be with Polly, but now that Polly was pregnant she rarely got involved with anything unless it included lying down and getting a foot massage. I’m carrying extra cargo, I need my rest, she’d say. Not that Betty minded, in fact she enjoyed looking after her sister and future nephew or niece, but she wasn’t expecting to be decorating a Christmas tree with a guy she didn’t know.

And she certainly wasn’t expecting to enjoy it.

“Christmas tradition,” she replied with a shrug, “we decorate it when we’re all together. Always have.”

“We used to get pretty competitive as kids,” Archie interjected with a laugh, “mainly because Betty wouldn’t let me do anything, and if I did she would rearrange it completely.”

“Hey,” she carefully placed a small candy cane shaped bauble to a branch slightly above her eye level, “it’s not my fault you can’t do these things.”

“I feel you, B,” said Veronica, throwing a pile of lights at Archie, who struggled to hold them all at once. “Make yourself useful and untangle these, would you, babe?”

Archie shook his head with a huff, falling back into an arm chair. “You’re both as bad as each other.”

The silence returned, mainly due to the serious concentration filling the room. The sound of Elvis played on vinyl in the background, one of Betty’s ultimate favourites. Whoa, oh, it's Christmas time, pretty baby, and the snow is fallin' on the ground.

“So, we’ve met before?”

Betty looked up, his face much closer to her than she’d initially anticipated. His piercing stare caused her heart to flutter. “You don’t remember?”

His silence prompted her to giggle, and with a deep breath she continued with the story she had not once thought about again since it had first happened.

“It was a few years ago now. I came to visit Archie at college and he wasn’t home; you answered the door. You looked as though I’d just woken you up, you weren’t thrilled about it, but you did invite me in anyway. I offered to get a coffee with you to apologise for the wake up call and you ignored me and went back into your room. You slammed the door, and I remember it made me jump. You didn’t even take my coat.”

He raised a brow, as if surprised by the revelation that he had actually met her before paired with the fact he had no recollection of it. He also looked pretty embarrassed, naturally.

“Wow, what a dick.”

“Yeah,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “here’s hoping I don’t bump into him again any time soon.”

He smirked, looking down, something about her made him nervous, and she had a feeling that didn’t happen very often.

“Well, if you do, let me know, and I’ll soon put him in his place.”

He diverted his gaze back up after a moment and Betty thought that maybe the feeling was mutual.

Christmas dinner was just as wonderful as they had all remembered it to be. A table filled with turkey, roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, vegetables, stuffing, gravy, and more; everyone was spoiled for choice, especially Jughead, who was already filling up his plate with seconds as though he’d never eaten a decent meal in his life.

“This dinner is delicious, Fred,” Veronica professed with a smile, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she chewed her final mouthful.

Betty took a sip from her wine and placed the glass back down gently. “Yeah,” she agreed, “it’s lovely.”

“Well, I have to thank Alice for bringing over half of it. A good team effort as always.”

“My pleasure,” she replied with a smile, “thank you for having us.”

Betty had been placed in between Polly and Jughead, with Veronica, Archie and her mom opposite, and Fred and Hal on either end of the table. Everyone had fit, albeit a tiny bit cramped, but not enough so that anyone was complaining or sitting on top of one another.

Betty had never even noticed the close proximity of the chairs until now, mainly because of the fact her knee was almost touching Jughead’s, and she was very much aware of it.

More so than she would’ve been with Mrs. Andrews, that’s for sure.

“So, Jug-head,” Alice started, dragging out his name as if it were a joke, he stopped with his mouth half full at the sound of his name. “What is it you do?”

He swallowed his food, clearing his throat slightly as he sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m a writer.”

“Really?” Betty interjected, pleasantly surprised at this fact, cutting off a visibly frustrated Alice before she could even respond. “Me too.”

“No way,” he raised his brows in a mutual interest, his face brightening, “what do you write?”

She turned towards him, their knees touching momentarily, but neither of them moved an inch.

“I write for The Register. It’s a newspaper here in Riverdale.”

“Ah, so you’re a journalist?”

“Trying to be,” she nodded as she crumpled up her napkin and placed it on top of her plate. “How about you?”

He exhaled, returning his attention to his now empty (for the second time) plate and shrugging slightly. “I just write what I can, here and there. Or, you know, try to.”

“He’s being modest,” Archie cried, causing Betty to swivel her head back around. “He’s writing his second novel, and he’s ridiculously talented.”

“You say that like you ever read books,” Jughead replied, as Archie rolled his eyes playfully.

“I read yours, and I think it’s something to be proud of.”

He diverted his gaze downwards again, then looked back up at Betty as she smiled. The warmth that she emitted was unlike anything he was used to, and he had an undeniable urge to grab it with both hands.

“You’ll have to show me some time,” she said. “If you want.”

The setting of the sun fought its way through the large window beside them, and Jughead found himself saying “ok.”

“Wow, this town really is like something out of a snow globe.”

She laughed. “Seeing as it’s your first time in Riverdale, I need to take you to Pop’s. Just one milkshake and you’ll never want to leave, I promise.”

After declaring during dessert that he had never even heard of Pop’s, let alone visited the place, Betty had instantly suggested taking him for a brisk walk to show him what he was missing. She always went out for a quick break after dinner, usually by herself just to clear her head and enjoy her own company for a while. Sometimes she just felt like she needed it, especially during the overwhelming craziness of the holidays. She wasn’t used to sharing this kind of moment with anyone other than herself, but tonight something had quite unexpectedly shifted.

She wasn’t sure what that something was just yet, but she knew that it had, and a part of her knew that perhaps Jughead was the reason why.

“Unless that milkshake comes with a stable family and financial security, then I seriously doubt it.”

Her smile wavered as she let the next few moments of silence pass by naturally. “I know what it’s like to struggle at Christmas time,” she began, her voice a little shaky. “I know I have it good with what I have, and I’m grateful for that, but I often find it a difficult time of the year… you know?”

She didn’t want to get into too much detail with a guy she’d only just properly met. She didn’t want to say because of my mental health, but somehow it made sense to him all the same.

“I know,” he replied with a sigh, before holding out his arm.

She furrowed her brows and smiled. “Is that an invitation to hold onto you, Mr. Jones?”

He grinned and shrugged. It was Christmas, she was beautiful, and she seemed to like him; what did he have to lose?

“If you want it to be,” he replied, a confidence he didn’t even know that he had in him, to which she hesitated for a few moments, before wrapping her arm around his as they continued on down the empty street.

A small laugh escaped her lips as her eyes fell on him once more. "And to think," she uttered, "that guy at Archie's dorm was such a dick."

He sniggered, his gaze dropping to his feet as he recalled what she'd previously told him. "I really am sorry about that," he swallowed. "I was an angry kid. Angry at the world, as cliche as it sounds. I don't even know that person anymore."

Tightening her grip on his arm, he looked back up at her to be met with a smile. That damn smile. He already knew there would be no going back from this.

"It's ok," she said warmly. "I quite like the person I'm with now."

When they arrived at Pop’s, which was much emptier than usual due to everyone being at home with their friends and families, Betty ordered two vanilla milkshakes and the pair sat in a booth at the back. One of her favourite songs was playing again, but this time it was Bing Crosby, and the distant sound paired with the perfect silence comforted her.

Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree. Christmas Eve will find me where the lovelight gleams.

“This is nice,” Jughead declared to which Betty narrowed her eyes with a grin.

“What?” He smirked, removing his beanie and placing it on the table. He ran a hand through his dark curls and something about it made her feel giddy. God, he really was gorgeous.

“Was that sarcasm?”

He held his hands up in defence and laughed. “No sarcasm, I swear.”

“Ok,” she joked, biting her lip as she giggled, “I believe you.”

“Here we go,” Pop announced, breaking the intense stare that had followed the biting of her lip as he placed the glasses down gently, “two vanilla milkshakes.”

She smiled, taking a sip from her straw and releasing a small mmm. Nothing could quite lift her mood than one of these. “Thanks, Pop.”

Twirling her straw around her fingers, she watched Jughead as he took his first sip, his face completely nonchalant and unreadable.

“Stop watching me,” he ordered playfully, rolling his eyes with a grin.

“Well, what do you think? The wait is killing me.”

He shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “It’s ok.”

“Ok?” She cried, folding her arms and raising a brow disapprovingly.

“Fine,” he replied, his eyes softening as they met hers, “it’s good. Really good.”

The red light of the familiar ‘diner’ sign illuminated their little corner, providing a safety and a comfort; it was almost like they were the only two people in the entire town, and something about it sparked something inside of them. They both felt it at the same time, or so they thought, catching each other’s eye and looking down nervously.

“The company isn’t so bad either,” he added sheepishly, to which she smirked and tucked a few strands of loose waves behind her ear.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

They talked for a while longer on the walk back to Archie’s house, about almost anything and everything. Jughead's familial issues, his insecurities and hardships growing up, how he was channelling all of that pain into his writing, and how Betty understood all of it, in her own way.

She told him about her difficult relationship with her mother, her ongoing struggles with her mental health and how she was working her butt off to save up and leave Riverdale for good after being kept inside a perfect little box all of her life. For some reason, these two people who couldn’t be more outwardly opposite had discovered that they actually had a lot in common.

They both felt like outsiders, even though you'd not have guessed it, and they saw something of themselves in the other that they'd been seemingly craving for their entire lives. It was a breath of fresh air. An unexpected glimmer of light. A Christmas eve that they would never have seen coming.

“I never usually open up like this,” Betty admitted, looking at her feet, “especially not with someone I’ve just met.”

“Me neither,” he replied, his hands firmly tucked in his pockets as he exhaled, his breath visibly circulating in the cold air.

“You know,” she said after a few moments of comfortable silence, “Archie and Veronica shared a kiss on the first night they met. It seemed crazy to me at the time, but clearly something stuck.”

His lips curved into a smirk as he raised his brows and dug his hands further into his pockets. “Is that a hint, Betty?”

Realising what she’d said and how it sounded, her jaw dropped in horror as she began to blush uncontrollably.

“What? No. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” she stumbled over her words, pursing her lips together as she shook her head, silently scolding herself.

The silence returned, and she couldn’t help but feel mortified. Of course, she didn’t really mean it, but at the same time if he kissed her she wouldn’t have pushed him away. Had she just made an otherwise perfect evening unnecessarily awkward? It started to snow, and Betty regretted not grabbing her scarf on the way out as an unwanted shiver climbed up her spine.

She had had relationships before now, of course. Short lived, but relationships all the same. She had felt brief attraction and intrigue and she had felt the urge to be close to somebody, but never had it felt like this. Something about the way he made her feel was different, which she knew was crazy. He was everything she knew her mother would disapprove of. He wore a leather jacket and rode a motorcycle and rolled his own cigarette inside Pop's before they got up to leave. He was damaged and lost and everything she shouldn't be drawn to. She knew it, but she couldn’t help it. And, better yet, she didn't even care.

“It’s ok if you did,” he said quietly.

She pulled herself back to reality, her breath catching in her throat as she turned her head to study his expression; it took her a few moments to return to the conversation at hand, and she almost thought she’d misheard him.

“What?”

He shrugged, looking out at the empty street before them as a few snowflakes settled in the dark curl peeking out of the front of his beanie. His voice was a little shakier than she’d heard it before.

“Maybe something will stick.”

She stopped still, realising what he was saying, as he walked a few steps ahead then stopped to turn and face her when realising she wasn’t following; clearly not expecting her to halt so suddenly. His eyes finally met hers before falling down to her lips, and then back up again. He looked unsure, as though he might be crossing a line and as though he was waiting for her to reject him, something people had been doing his whole life. Something he was much too used to, let alone from someone who was practically a stranger.

But Betty Cooper wasn’t like everyone else.

Instead, she inhaled deeply and felt her heart beating against her rib cage. She edged forward and knew that she didn’t know anything other than there was nothing else she would rather do and nowhere else that she’d rather be right there in that very moment. After all, were they really strangers after sharing their entire life stories with one another in the space of a couple of hours? After all, did it even really matter?

She finally exhaled as she closed the space between them, listening to her gut for perhaps the first time in her life and pulling his lips to hers as she gripped onto the collar of his leather jacket. It was slow at first, just two people breathing each other in for the first time, before melting into it as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She felt his cold hands find her waist and, in turn, she moved hers upwards to wrap around his neck.

This was unlike anything Betty had ever done in her life. It was spontaneous, dangerous, exciting, alien, yet strangely familiar; as if they’d known each other for much longer than just one evening. As though this was something they’d both been waiting for ever since they could remember. She could taste the lingering hint of nicotine on his lips, and something about it made her only want him further.

After a few moments, they pulled away, their breathing heavy. Betty kept her arms draped around Jughead’s neck and finally met his eyes once more. There was a new warmth looking back at her, as though she’d just ignited something in him he didn’t know was there. And finally, she smiled, prompting him to do the same.

Suddenly, the snowfall became even heavier, creating a thickening blanket along the ground and simultaneously starting to drench them. Betty squealed at the abrupt downpour, instinctively grabbing his hand as the both of them began to run, their laughter intertwining with the echoing of their heavy footsteps. Her coat didn’t even have a hood, and she could already feel her dampening hair dripping down her back.

“Come on,” she cried, “we need to get back.”

He interlaced his fingers with hers and stopped for a moment, pulling her against him once more, his face a little more serious this time. Without even a second thought, he kissed her again, easing into it even more so this time as the snow melted into their embrace. They found themselves thinking that they could get used to this. When they parted again slowly, he gently pushed her hair out of her face. As she reopened her eyes, he shook his head with a smile.

“Well,” he breathed, his voice low and coarse. “I certainly didn’t see that one coming.”

She beamed, a giggle escaping her lips as his skin brushed against hers.

“Perhaps if you’d have taken my coat it would’ve happened much sooner.”

His lips twisted into a smirk as he nodded in defeat, running his eyes over every detail of the girl he knew he’d never forget again. “Touché, Cooper,” he replied with a squeeze of her hand, “touché.”

And there they were, the girl next door and the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, running through the snow hand in hand to get back into the warmth as they laughed louder than they had ever done before, shushing each other every so often, the gesture only making them laugh even harder.

They didn’t really know what they were doing or where they were going, how things were going to develop or if they’d even see each other again after that night, but what they did know was that none of it even mattered. Because here and now, on a small street in Riverdale on a quiet Christmas Eve, the glimmer of lights illuminating the glistening of the snow: maybe, just maybe, something had stuck.

#bughead #bughead fanfic #bughead fic #bughead secret santa

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pizzaperfect7 · 7 years ago

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What Does Style Mean To You?

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frattocri9724 · 7 years ago

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STEVEN UNIVERSE:

WHICH COULD BE CHARACTERS’ PERSONAL POKÉMON?

I have a question, which many other fans would share with me: what if there exists a “Steven Universe”/”Pokémon” crossover? I know, I know: it sounds awesome. Two of the most popular and beloved franchises of all time, combined together.

A crucial starting point is this one: which Pokèmon should be the best first choice for a Steven Universe character? Well, believe it or not, but I managed to find many similarities and traits that both Steven Universe’s characters and Pokémon have in common, both in terms of lore, physical traits, personalities, symbology and, to some extent, even powers. Some characters and Pokémon look and act so similarly that the coincidences are simply staggering, considering the fact that there’s a 20-year gap between the franchises.

In this article, I will bring you some of my personal Steven Universe/Pokémon similarities. I have to mention that not every single similarity must be perfectly plausable: this is all for fun, both for you and me. I hope I will find other similarities in the future but, for now, let’s get started.

-) Steven Universe and Chansey = We can begin this article with the protagonist of the animated series, the cheerful and friendly Steven Universe, and there wouldn’t be a better personal Pokémon for Steven than Chansey, the Egg Pokémon.

We are starting with an excelent pairing. Both Steven and Chansey are considered two of the most kindhearted and generous characters in their respective universes, and they are mostly known for their healing powers. Steven posseses the ability to heal any kind of injuries of both inanimated objects and living beings, with both his spit and tears, while Chanseys share the eggs they lay in their pouches with injured people and Pokèmon to heal them, and addictonal effects include the ability to bring luck and happiness to those in need. Both Steven and Chansey share pink color, the color of love, and, interesting to note, both Steven’s and Chansey’ source of power are placed on the area of the navel (Steven’s gemstone and Chansey’s pouch). Chansey is famous for being one of the best Healers and Tanks in the competitive aspect of past Pokèmon generations, considering her vast defensive, supportive and healing moveset and her high vitality and Steven, in RPG-terms, can be considered a Healer/Tank, since all of his powers, which he inherited from his mother, Rose Quartz, are all defensive and supportive. Also, some of Chansey’s moves reflect some of Steven’s own powers, such as “Sweet Kiss”, “Sing”, “Refresh”, “Healing Wish”, or “Light Screen”, the latter which is a move that Chansey learns only at level 46 (which is usually a high level to achieve in order to learn some Pokèmon moves), and in Steven’s case, the Rose Bubble and the Rose Shield are highly difficult powers to master.

Last, but not least, both Steven and Chansey are respectively linked to Rose Quartz and Blissey, but more about them later on.

-) Pearl and Gardevoir = This pairing is maybe the embodiment of gracefulness and duty over someone very close to both of them. Aesthetically, both Pearl and Gardevoir, the Embrace Pokèmon, share an overal elegant appearence, their color scheme, which consist on white and green (Pearl’s “outfit” has a clear blue tint which tends to green), and an unusual large head. Pearl’s dance style is classic ballet, and Gardevoir’s pre-evolution Kirlia resembles a ballet dancer (actually, I initially wanted to pair Pearl with Kirlia but, as you will see, Gardevoir is a much better choice). Both are considered two of the strongest characters of their franchises, with Pearl being the 2nd strongest member of the Crystal Gems, and Gardevoir being one of the most powerful non-Legendary Psychich/Fairy type Pokèmon. Their combat styles are, also, the opposite of each other (Pearl being an excelent close ranged fighter and, only occasionally, a decent long ranged fighter, while Gardevoir is an extremely powerful long ranged combatant, but awful in close quarters). Their other major similarity lies in their relationship with their closest friends: Rose Quartz for Pearl, and Gardevoir’s Trainer. Pearl swore to serve and protect Rose at the cost of her own life, to the point of over-regenerating from her gemstone countless times back at the Gem War, and Gardevoir is described as an extremely loyal and protective Pokèmon towards its own Trainer, and it is said that it doesn’t hesitate unleashing the peak of its powers, even creating small black holes and distorting dimensions, putting its own life at risk. As I already said, Pearl dedicated her entire life serving Rose Quartz, admiring her unlike anybody else and, coincidentially, both Gardevoir’s base form and Mega Evolution “wear” a gorgeous seemy wedding dress, which looks similar to Rose Quartz’s own “wedding dress”. Last, but not least, Gardevoir takes some inspiration both from a guardian angel (due to its desire to protect its Trainer at any cost) and from a ghost that refuses to leave the physical world (due to its ghost-like appearence); concidentially, these inspirations may be considerd also in Pearl’s case, since not only she vowed to protect both Rose Quartz and the Earth, but also Steven Universe (her major role in the series resembles that of a protective nurse, the latter of which is also as well an inspiration for Chansey), and the ghost-inspiration may represent not only Pearl’s pale white skin but, most importantly, her initial difficulty to “leave the past behind her”, trying to overcome the loss of Rose, which she eventually manages to do.

-) Amethyst and Ditto = I have to admit that this similarty has been very hard to choose, and that’s because they don’t exist many Pokèmon which look similar to Amethyst but, in the end, I think I did it and the result is both funny and depressing at the same time. Why? Well, let’s find out, shall we?

Amethyst and Ditto, the Transform Pokèmon, have the purple color in common and they both generally have a happy and carefree attitude. Their most famous abilty is the power of shapeshifting. Nearly every Gem posses, since their creation, the ability to transform into any kind of creature or object they could imagine, and Amethyst is mainly known for being the Gem which shapeshifts the most among the Crystal Gems, while Ditto has the innate ability to transform into nearly any kind of object or Pokèmon he encounters. Ditto is capable to copy the appearence of the objects/creatures it observes although, sometimes, when it tries to copy something by remembering it, it may forget some details, like the face. By the way, both Amethyst and Ditto retain some defects while transforming: Amethyst, like any other Gem, retains her original color palette (light and dark purple and black), while Ditto retains its original face (although only when it doesn’t remember the original one or when it laughs, which is, by the way, another trait in common with Amethyst). Speaking of defective appearences, and this is the saddest part of the pairing, both Amethyst and Ditto are considered “scientifically and biologically defects”, and their “origin story” is kinda similar. Amethyst, like all Gems, was an artificially created Quartz, however she’s much smaller and weaker than an averege Quartz, and that’s because she stayed into the Prime Kindergaten 500 years more than the Gems that fought during the Gem War, causing her usual short like appearence. This “defecive birth” is an issue that Amethyst herself will struggle to face over the course of the series, since she was supposed to look like any other Quartzes, like Jasper told her, but she didn’t manage to accept her identity, always hiding and faking her inner depression with her careless and irresponsible attitude. In Ditto’s case, its defective nature is more controversial, because it’s entirely based on an urban legend about the fact that Dittos are defective, discarded attempts to clone Mew’s DNA, in order to create Mewtwo, the “most powerful Pokémon ever”. According to this legend, Ditto and Mew actually posses a large number of similarities that give strength to this theory: they both have same color scheme (both normaly and shiny), they weight equally (4 kg), Ditto is the only known Pokémon which learns “Transform” via leveling and, finally, it’s possible to catch Dittos in 1st Genaration’s Pokémon Mansion, the laboratory where Mewtwo was created. All these similarities contribute making the pairing Amethyst/Ditto the best I could think about.

-) Garnet and Scizor = Now we are going to talk about a less complicated pairing that, personally, is an overdose of coolness. Garnet and Scizor, the Pincer Pokèmon, both share an overal badass and edgy design, red and black as their primary colors, and hand-enhanching gears that drammatically increase their strength and the destructivness of their attacks (Garnet’s Gauntlets and Scizor’s clawed pincers). However, there’s a difference between these weapons: Garnet is capable to summon her weapons whenever she wants (they aren’t a part of her body), while Scizor’s pincers belong to his biological structure, evolving fom Scyther, with the pincers fused with its body. They are respectively considered two of the strongest characters in their respective franchises, with Garnet being the most powerful Crystal Gem nowadays, and Scizor being, according to its base stats, the strongest non-Legendary Bug Type Pokémon since now. Among their characteristics, both their bodies are considered nearly indestructible (Garnet, being a Fusion, develops near invulnerability to almost any kind of attack, and Scizor’s armor is harder than steel) and are also both resistant to electricity (Garnet is electricity-proof having developed Electrokinesis on her own, while Scizor is resistant to Electric type moves). However, the irony lies in the fact that both have completely opposite heat resistance capabilities: Garnet, being a Fusion, has heat immunity too, being able to survive insanely high temperatures, such as lava’s or lightning’s temperature, like it’s nothing, but Scizor, being a Bug-Steel type Pokémon, posseses a quadruple weakness towards Fire type attacks. Also, Scizor can learn “Bullet Punch” via leveling up, which is a move where the Pokèmon throws a flurry of punches at blinding speed, and Garnet does show the ability to throw lightning-speed punch combos quite casually. Lastly, Scizor’s pincers are designed to scare off some of Scizor’s preys, giving them the illusion of seeing three heads, while Garnet’s Gauntlets are capable to scare certain enemies, like the Centipeetel Mother.

-) Connie Maeshwaran and Tyrouge = The reason why Connie’ starting Pokèmon should be Tyrouge, the Scuffle Pokémon, is as simple as it is effective. Both Connie and Tyrouge are extremely determinated individuals. Both strongly wish to become stronger to fullfil their needs, however their motivations are slightly different: Connie, after befriending Steven Universe and after witnessing many of his adventures, slowly developses an inner desire to train herself, asking Pearl for help, in the art of the sword, in order to become strong enough to not let her friend Steven down when the hard times come; Tyrouge, on the other hand, hardly trains daily only for his selfish desire to become stronger, no matter the difficulty. Speaking of difficulty, both Connie and Tyrouge, despite having different views about why they want to become stronger are probably two of the most courageous and fearless characters in their respective franchises, and no matter what’s the situation, they will never give up: despite her look and her attitude, Connie eventually manages to overcome her fears and she learned how not to hesitate even against odds bigger than herself, facing Gem Mutants and Corrupted Gems alongside Steven and the Crystal Gems several times and she keeps forward, even if she doesn’t always succeeds: Tyrouge doesn’t hesitate to challenge anyone it meets, not even if the opponent is bigger and stronger than Tyrouge itself and, despite the injuries, it always gets up, willing to fight until the end.

Finally, according to the Pokédex, Tyrouge takes training regimes very seriously, and it can even become stressed if its Trainer doesn’t provide to its daily training; however, in this case, Tyrouge may be the luckiest Pokémon in the world, because Connie, by her side, posseses great organizational skills, which she aquired from her family’ strict discipline. Finally, Connie and Tyrouge share the fact of being two of the weakest characters in their universes, with Connie being just a 12-year old human girl and Tyrouge is actually the weakest Fighting Type Pokémon ever. Despite these flaws, I personally love this pairing, since both character’s determination could certanely help the each other out to improve their skills together.

-) Peridot and Magnemite = Magnemite, the Magnet Pokémon, would be a perfect choice for a character like Peridot, a Homeworld Gem that’s typically associated with advanced technology and usage of electrical energy. The main reason why Magemite would be a great choice for Peridot is the fact that Magnemite’s round appearence resembles a Robonoid, a tiny sphearic robot which was used by Peridot, when she was still working for Homeworld, to keep informations and reparing Warp Pads with their “healing glue”, so it would be funny if Peridot chooses a Magnemite, pushed by the nostalgia of her Robonoids. Both Peridot and Magnemite show to have a specific power in common: magnetism/electromagnetism. Peridot discovered, in an instance of despair, the ability to levitate metallic objects with the movements of her body, while Magnemite’s body creates electromagnetic waves that allows it to defy gravity and even disrupting electronic devices with its mere presence (Magnemite even learns a move called “Magnet Rise”, which makes it immune to Earth type moves). As said before, both Peridot and Magnemite are typically associated with technology and Peridot, before joining the Crystal Gems, had access to highly advanced Limb Enhancers, which allowed her to create and launch electric attacks. These Limb Enhancers were also made of an advanced space metal, which is linked to the Steel type of Magnemite. Also, in terms of character, Peridot showed a cold and remorsless personality when she worked for Homeworld, and nowadays she sometimes shows an occasional aggressive attitude, and Magnemite usually shows no kinds of emotions but, occasionaly, it becomes aggressive against the humans it doesn’t trust.

Peridot, by herself, is considered the weakest Crystal Gem of the team, and Magnemite is not a particularly strong Pokémon (It even lacks proper arms, which could be reflected by Peridot’s poor physical strength), but that doesn’t mean they are helpless. Aside from their magnetic powers, they both posses remarkable physical resilience and durability: Peridot shows time and again to be one of the thoughest Gems in the series, being able to survive after being crushed by heavy boulders multiple times and after falling hundreds of feet without poofing, and Magnemite’s best stats, aside from its Special Attack, are its Defenses. Magnemite also posseses the ability “Sturdy”, which protects it from 1-hit KO attacks, which addictionaly links to Peridot’s unusual improved durability.

-) Jasper and Arcanine = I personaly admit that this pairing has been very difficult to decide but I choose Arcanine as Jasper’s personal Pokèmon because I thought of being a cool pairing.

As for the similarities, both Jasper and Arcanine, the Legendary Pokèmon, share their color scheme, which consists on orange, black and white. Jasper’s huge, wild white hair may also look like a mane, just like Arcanine has a manhole, which happens to be white. Arcanine is usually described as a magnificent and beautiful Pokémon, and every time it appears to humans, they usually bow before it, as a sing of respect. Similarly, Jasper has been always praised by many characters in the series, both good and evil, as a proudful and powerful Gem (The Rubies are the Gems that admire her the most), and as the Ultimate Quartz, she really deserves such respect. They are also extremely loyal characters towards their “master”, since Arcanine always obeys the orders of its Trainer, swearing to protect it form anything, while Jasper used to be a die-hard loyal soldier of Pink Diamond. As for power, Jasper is one of the most powerful villain in the series, easely the most vicious menance the Crystal Gems have ever faced, being able to hold her own against many Fusions, like Garnet, Stevonnie and Smoky Quartz, and always surviving, while Arcanine’s power has always been praised too, since it’s capable to casually shoot huge streams of flame and, with its base stats reaching 555, it’s really close to rival the power of a Legendary. Their speed is also quite impressive, since Jasper’s own Spin Dash is one of the fastest attacks shown in the series, and Arcanine, aside from his trademark move, “Extreme Speed”, is capable of running 6,200 miles in 24 hours. Since Jasper is a Quartz, addictionally, these kind of Gems are specifically designed with a bulking appearence to intimidate their foes, and Jasper is perfectly capable to overewhelm her foes both physically and psychologically, while Arcanine’s main ability is called “Intimidate” indeed, which lowers the opponent’s physical attacking power.

-) Lapis Lazuli and Kyogre = Oh yes, we finally got to Lapis Lazuli. Initially I wanted to give her the Pokémon Lapras; however, the only trait they both share is that their names nearly sound identical. That’s it. With that said, I started thinking about a better substitute and, personally, I cannot give to Lapis a better Pokémon than Kyogre, the Sea Basin Pokèmon, and I hope you will understand the reasons why I decided this pairing.

First of all, someone may argue that giving a Legendary Pokèmon to a character of the main cast may seem exagerated, but I’m pretty sure that Lapis and Kyogre may be the most overpowered pair of this hypothetical crossover as they have much more in common than you might think. In terms of power, this is the main reason why Lapis and Kyogre are so similar. Both posses the ability to manipulate the oceans of the planet with their mind, and they are capable to do it quite casually, since Lapis is capable to manipulate the oceans of the planet with her nearly god-like Hydrokinesis, being able to create a water tower taller than the Earth’s atmosphere, and Kyogre is the Legendary Pokèmon (with 670 as its base stats) that has control over the element of water and rain, capable to quench areas of the world and it’s known for having expanded the seas for centuries, while fighting his archrival, Groudon. Both characters also display the ability to fly, Lapis with her Water Wings, and Kyogre...I sincerly don’t know how it does it, but it can! In terms of combat capabilities, they mainly fight with their special powers and Kyogre’s highest stat is its Special Attack and, if Lapis were a Pokèmon, she may have an almost equal Special Attack. Their skin also have a light blue color in common, and their personalities are kinda similar: under normal circumstances, they show a quite and uninterested attitude, but when under determined situations, they show an aggressive personality, to the point of not caring about anything and anyone (Lapis nearly caused a worldwide environmental crisis by stealing the ocean because she was frightened and enraged for having been trapped inside a mirror for millenias, while Kyogre shows no mercy every time it engages a cataclysmic battle against Groudon, as it has done it since the creation of the world).

Sincerely, I’m both satisfied and frightened by these beautiful and overpowered forces of nature.

-) Rose Quartz and Blissey = As I mentioned above when talking about Steven Universe and Chansey, Rose Quartz and Blissey wouldn’t just be their upgraded version: they would be the crown of both “evolution lines”, and I just love it. As Rose Quartz is Steven’s mother, a “stronger” version of Steven and the character which he should become when he grows up, Blissey, the Happiness Pokèmon, is the next evolution of Chansey.

As for their personalities, it’s almost unbelievable that both characters are the most kindhearted and gentle characters in their franchises, as Rose Quartz loved every life, considering them precious and worth protecting, and even showing compassion and respect towards her own enemies, while Blissey utilizes her pink furr to detect sadness and then she (as Blissey are exclusively female and, coincidentially, every Gem has a feminine like appearence) shares the eggs she lay, healing every malice and bringing happines to those in need. Despite being a Gem, Rose Quartz can be considered the living embodiment of maternity and motherly love, which are all valuable inspirations for Blissey as well. Speaking of maternity, as in Steven’s and Chansey’s case, their main source of power (Rose Quartz’s gemstone and Blissey’s egg pouch) are placed in the area of the navel, which is symbolical for the spiritual connection bewteen mother and child.

In terms of power, Rose Quartz and Blissey are considered, relatively speaking, two of the most powerful and resourceful characters of their respective series, both possessing nearly exclusively defensive and supportive powers/moves. They are mainly known for their unrivaled healing powers, since Rose Quartz’s healing powers were a total new for Homeworld and maybe non other Pokémon does have similar healing properties as Blissey. Blissey is considered the most powerful and used Tank/Healer in competitive game, and Rose Quartz definitively does have all the requirements for being an overpowered Tank or Healer in an RPG. As for Steven and Chansey, some of Rose’s powers and Blissey’s moves look very similar, like Rose Quartz’s healing powers and Blissey’s “Soft-Boiled”, or Rose Quartz’s Rose Bubble and Rose Shield look like Blissey’s “Light Screen”.

-) Holly Blue Agate and Tsareena = Back at the episode “Gem Heist”, I was really irritated by Holly Blue Agate’s attitude and superiority complex towards other Gems. However, that doesn’t mean that I hated the character’s concept or role into the story, and I still wonder what happened to her at the end of “That Would Be All” and I sincerly hope we will see her one last time before the season’s finale. With that said, looking at her arrogant, egoistical and predominant persona, I started asking myself if there existed a Pokèmon equally bitchy as Holly Blue? Well, believe it or not but there’s actually a Pokèmon which personality and concept would fit perfectly as Holly Blue’s personal Pokèmon. I’m talking about Tsareena, the Fruit Pokèmon.

Their similarities don’t actually round around their powers (since Tsareena is a pure Grass type Pokèmon, and Holly Blue shows to fight using electricity based weapons, which would be ineffective against Grass Pokèmon...what an irony), but, as said before, their appearences and their attitudes are much more important in the pairing. Speaking of their appearences, Holly Blue and Tsareena show to have an overal elegant and stylish appearence, as both of them “wear” a pretty elegant dress and, the most important detail, is that both “wear” high heeled boots that go up to their thighs (Holly’s are white and Tsareena’s are purple).

Speaking of their attitudes, both show an arrogant, superb, and egocentric personality, while maintaining a composite and pompous posture all the time. Holly Blue shows a matronly and severe attitude towards lower-class Gems, like Pearls and Quartzes, the latter which she even rudely beats them, trying to organize their duties in order to make a good impression towards higher-class Gems, like Sapphires or the Diamonds; Tsareena, similarly, shows a pompous and high-class nature, punishing anyone that approaches it with evil intentions. This attitude can even be redirected towards its own Trainer, since Tsareena could even beat him if it doesn’t like its strategies or if he’s imparting flawed orders, so we can assume that she has a hatred towards humans, which is an opinion that Holly Blue shares too, since she considers human “worthless creatures”. Furthermore, both Holly Blue Agate and Tsareena show great determination to accomplish their duties: Holly Blue was assigned to supervise the Human Zoo with every mean possible, while Tsareena, knwoing that only the best Steenees can evolve, use their power to protect their pre-evolutions. Last, but not least, they appear to have their main power sources placed on their heads: Holly’s gemstone is placed on the back of her head, while Tsareena’s crown-like growth is her main weak point, since once someone touches it, it becomes defensless.

-) Yellow Diamond/Zekrom and Blue Diamond/Reshiram = At this point in the article, I deeply wanted to give a decent Pokémon to the Diamonds, hierarchically the most powerful and important Gems of Homewold’s social pyramid. The Diamonds of which we know something are Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond, two of the original four Diamon Authorities, the supreme rulers of Homewold. Among these rulers, Pink Diamond was the first Diamond to be shattered by the hands of Rose Quartz (although there may be some issues and incostistencies of what actually happend back at the Gem War), Yellow and Blue Diamond are supposed to have equal roles in the society, and then there’s the mysterious “White Diamond”, an unkown character which has never been shown in the series, since now. Also, according to the Great Diamond Authority, the insigna of the Diamonds, the individual symbols of the Diamonds are placed according to a specific method, which is also linked to the placement of their own gemstones: Pink Diamond, whose gemstone is placed on the navel, is considered the lowest ranking Diamond; Yellow and Blue Diamond have their gemstones placed on their chests, and in the insigna their symbols are on the same level, meaning they have an equal role in the society (the yellow symbol is on the left while blue’s is on the right) and, finally, “White Diamond”’s gemstone is placed on her forehead, and her symbol is on top of every other ones, thus making her the most important Diamond of the Authority.

Now, you are wandering why did I exposed the importance of all Diamonds; the reason lies in the fact that, in order to determine the importance of choosing their personal Pokémon, it’s important to explain that, among all Diamonds, Yellow and Blue had the most complex and conflictual relationship, since both their points of views and goals greatly differ from each other. Coincidentially, in the “Pokémon” universe, there exist, among the Legendary Pokémon, many rivalries between equally powerful creatures (think about the aforementioned rivalry bewteen Groudon, the lord of earths, and Kyogre, the lord of the oceans, or Dialga and Palkia, the lords of time and space, respectivelly). That being said, you are probably guessing what I’m talking about and, finally, after this VERY long exposition, Yellow’s and Blue Diamond’s personal Pokémon should be, respectivelly, Zekrom, the Black Yin Pokémon, and Reshiram, the White Yang Pokémon, both from the Unova region. The similarities bewteen the two Diamonds and the Tao Duo don’t actually lie in terms of similar powers, but instead, they focus much more into the lore, the inspiration sources and the symbology that surrounds the myth of Reshiram and Zekrom. This is gonna be tricky, but I will try to be be as clear as possible.

Let’s briefly explain the parallels in terms of power: with their base stats of 680, Reshiram and Zekrom are two of the most powerful Legendary Pokèmon in the franchise and it’s been told that their power are perfectly equals, as no one can prevale on the other one; at the same time, Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond, having both their gemstones placed on the chest and having their symbols’ same reversed position into the Diamond Authority insigna, means that they too should be considered equals in terms of power and importance. Zekrom and Yellow Diamond also share the fact of being able to manipulate electricity, however, ironically, Blue Diamond and Reshiram should have completely opposite elemental attributes, since Reshiram is a Pokèmon associated with fire, while Blue Diamond should be more familiar with water. Don’t worry though: as already said, the most important reason for this double pairing lies into the symbolism of the inspirational sources of Zekrom and Reshiram, which kinda resemble both Yellow’s and Blue Diamond’s characters, purposes and points of view. Zekrom and Reshiram both take inspiration from the concept of Yin and Yang in Taoism. In fact, Zekrom’s black color and his more seemy masculine and aggresive appearence represents the Yin side of the Tao, while Reshiram’s white color and its more graceful and seemy feminine appearence represent the Yang side of the Tao. Zekrom’s masculine and more active attitude greatly resembles Yellow Diamond’s aggressive and ruthless character, while Reshiram’s look and more feminine-like appearence fit quite efficiently with Blue’s more elegant and innocent appearence. The Tao is the main symbol of the religion, and the Yin is placed on the left side, while the Yang is placed on the right side...which surprisingly coincide with Yellow and Blue’s symbols into the Authority insigna, as already mentioned, where Yellow’s symbol is placed on the left side, and Blue’s is placed on the right side, which is surprisingly astonishing, if I may add. But wait, because there’s much more for the comparisons! Zekrom, as an integral part of Unova’s own mythology, is described as the living embodiment of “ideals”, and Reshiram, on the other hand, is described, as the living embodiment of “truth”. These two creatures, alongside those who choose one of each side, fought for countless centuries, to determine which virtue was the most “fitting”. Well, believe it or not, but Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond actually embody the virtues of ideals and truth in their own context. In Yellow Diamond’s perspective, the “ideals” which she follows are her duties and responibilities to maintain the vigor and glory of her own race, since Homeworld’s main resources are slowly running out: according to Yellow Diamond, in order to overcome the grief for the loss of Pink Diamond, she forcefuly decides to leave the past behind her in order to move foreward. She always tries to do what it seems to be the best decision for the greater good, regardless of the rightness of what she’s doing: she even tries to avoid any other “inconveniences” during Steven’s trial, thinking about executing him instantly. All of these characteristics are perplexly opposite in Blue Diamond’s case. After Pink Diamond’s demise, Blue completely felt into a deeply depressed mood, constantly mourning over the loss of her “sister”. Contrary to Yellow, Blue seems to be much more attached to the past, since she keeps Pink Diamond’s legacy, by declaring the Earth as her own colony, and constantly bringing new humans to the Human Zoo. Blue also seems much more diplomatic and sympathetic with other individuals, and her deepest desire is to discover the truth about Pink Diamond’s death. Over the course of some of the most important episodes of “Steven Universe”, we aknowledge more about the conflict between Yellow’s and Blue’s purposes: in “That Will Be All”, Yellow tries to convince Blue to give up the idea of keeping the Earth, showing, even briefly, that she suffers too about the loss of Pink, but Blue strongly disagrees; in “The Trial”, we can see more clearly the conflict between Yellow and Blue, with Yellow wanting to quickly end Steven’ case while Blue still wants to know the truth.

Last, but not least, Reshiram and Zekrom could even take inspiration from famous historical rival siblings, like Romulus and Remus, the founders of the ancient Rome. Romulus and Remus were brothers who wanted to decide which one of them would be the best king for the city of Rome, with Romulus finally killing Remus, becoming the first king of the city. At the same time, I personally think that the last argument between Yellow and Blue would certanely change something in the future. Also, the context of monarchy is one of the major ones to determine the Diamond’s role, as the supreme leaders of Homeworld.

Anyway, this double pairing fits so well that the other Steven Universe/Pokèmon pairing would be ashamed.

#steven universe #pokemon

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