#egg suggested something from the eclipse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daenysthedreamer101 · 11 months ago

Text

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 14 - Total Eclipse of the Heart

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: Daena is not doing well, she gets jelaous, like really jealous/ Minor mentions of blood, death, fainting spell, overall chaos, and angst

A/N - it's a long one guys, so buckle up and get some snacks lol

Corresponding episode: HOTD 1x05

HOTD masterlist

"In the waning months of the year 115, a Royal wedding was held - Crown Princess Rhaenyra was married to Ser Laenor Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and the future Lord of the Tides. He was said to have arrived at King's Landing on the back of his dragon, Seasmoke, the same way his mother, Princess Rhaenys, arrived at her own wedding on her dragon, Meleys.

The wedding was not without scandal. To everyone's surprise, the grieving Princess Daena showed up. She recently lost her lady mother, Rhea Royce, and was not expected to attend. Many said that her somber behavior was an ill omen that contributed to the violent event at the end of the wedding - the murder of Ser Joffrey Lonmouth."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

115 AC, Runestone

The cold wind howled through the night. Lady Rowena stood at the foot of the table as four Silent Sisters took care of her late daughter's body. Never in her wildest dreams, did she think she would bear witness to this - her only child, cold and dead in front of her.

"My lady, you may wish to leave the Silent Sisters to their work. It is ill luck to look upon the face of death." Maester Cirion said to her.

"The Stranger has taken many people away from me: My parents, my lord husband, my brother, and now my daughter. I assure you Maester, he cares little whether I watch or not." Rowena replied quietly.

"If not for yourself, then you should leave for your granddaughter. I'm worried her mind will spiral. The Princess had always been quite attached to her mother. I'm afraid Lady Rhea's passing has unstabilized her state of being." Measter Cirion suggested.

"A raven must be sent to the Eyrie. Lady Jeyne must know of my daughter's passing. And to King's Landing, of course. I can trust you will deal with those messages?"

Maester Cirion bowed slightly. "Of course, my lady. At once."

"Ser Harwin."

He turned at the sound of his name. It was Lady Rowena. Her hair, usually neatly held by a hair net, was now loose. Her eyes were bloodshot and there was a crease in her brows. There was a large wooden box in her hands.

"My lady?"

"Ser Harwin, forgive me for seeking you out in the middle of the night but I'm afraid you're the only person I could think of for what I need," Rowena said as she handed him the box.

It wasn't too heavy but something was definitely inside it. "Give this to Daena. Let her talk about it. Distract her mind. And if you can, encourage her to get some sleep before the...before the funeral."

"What is it?" Harwin asked.

"Her old dragon egg. The one that never hatched. Daemon never bothered to return it to the Dragonpit and it has stayed here ever since Daena was born."

Harwin remembered Daena talking about this egg and how angry she was it never hatched.

"I hear she refuses to sleep." Rowena comments.

"My sisters tried everything but she is...restless," Harwin answered somberly.

Rowena cast her gaze down and shook her head.

"She needs you, Harwin. Now more than ever. Be there for her, please." Lady Rowena pleaded.

"Of course, my lady."

Gently opening the door, he found her sitting on the room floor, next to the fireplace. Her back turned to him, he couldn't see her face, only the back of her head. Her silver curls were now loose, reaching down to her waist.

She was crouched, her knees close to her chest as she stared into the fire. She didn't seem to notice him, or at least, she failed to react. He slowly approached her, setting the box next to her.

"Princess..." He called for her as he crouched next to her.

No reaction.

Sighing, he took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "Daena."

This seemed to break her stupor. She slowly turned her head toward him. Her lilac eyes were red and puffy, her face tear-stricken, her silver curls messy. It broke Harwin's heart into a million pieces seeing her like this. Gently, careful of her bruises, he took hold of her face. He wiped away the tears.

"My love...please. Talk to me." He cooed. This was the first time he addressed her in such a manner, yet she didn't seem to notice it.

"There's nothing to talk about! My mother-" She yelled but as soon as the words left her mouth, her mother's death became so much more obvious and real.

For the 100th time that night, she broke into tears. This time, Harwin was there to hold her. She sobbed and sobbed, drenching his shirt with her tears. After what felt like hours, she stopped. With her head on his chest, she could feel the beat of his heart; it calmed her down.

Her eyes fell upon the box Harwin brought with him. Removing herself from his arms, she pulled the box closer. With her fingers, she traced the intricate carvings in the wood.

"I know this box." She whispered, sniffling.

She opened it and her eyes fell upon the dragon egg inside it. The last time she saw it, she was a little girl, dragonless and fearful. She picked it up - it was dark in color, almost black with a violet tint to it and the scales glimmered purple in the fire.

It was as magnificent as the day it was first laid in her crib. It was as heavy as she remembered. Laying it in her lap, she sighed. It had her mind racing - so many things would've been different had this egg hatched.

She would've bonded to this dragon from birth, yes, but then she would've never claimed Vermithor. She didn't like that thought. Vermithor was her everything, she couldn't imagine her life without him. Speaking of her dragon...

"Vermithor. I want to see him." She said as she caressed the egg in her lap.

"...It's the middle of the night, my love."

"So?"

Harwin sighed. "You need to get some rest before the-"

"I don't want to. I want Vermithor!" She repeated. She hasn't seen her dragon in over a fortnight. Both dragon and rider were getting restless without each other.

"On the morrow, then." Harwin offered.

Daena thought about it. She was tired from all the crying. She caressed the egg some more before putting it back onto the velvet cushion inside of the box.

"I could do with some sleep." She commented quietly.

Harwin sighed again, this time from relief.

The rising sun was covered by the clouds; grey and heavy they were. Just like Daena's heart. Outside the walls of the castle, the funeral burial of Lady Rhea Royce was being held. All of the castle staff was there; stable boys, cooks, cleaning maids, guards, everyone.

The older members of the staff wept, for they knew their lady well and they too were shocked by her sudden passing. But no one felt more pained by Rhea's death than the two women standing at the very front - Lady Rowena, her mother, and Princess Daena, her child.

Grandmother and granddaughter held each other tightly, as if letting go of one another meant losing each other forever. Both were clad in black, from head to toe. Lady Rowena wore a long, black hood that covered her hair but not her face. Even in her darkest hour, she stood tall, a somber expression on her face.

Daena was a completely different story. Not expecting to attend a funeral, she had no appropriate black gown, so she borrowed one from Amanda. It was made of cotton with puffy sleeves and a high collar.

On her head, she wore a veil made of black Myrish lace that covered her tear-stricken face. Her hair was pulled in a bun and she wore no earrings, bracelets, or necklaces. Only the simple garnet ring her mother gifted her years ago.

Even the heavily pregnant Amanda was there; she refused to lie and bed while her aunt was getting buried. She stood next to her husband, Ser Jasper, and clutched her belly. She too was in a black gown with a black veil on her head.

Harwin and his sisters were slightly off to the side, seeing as they weren't residents of Runestone, only guests. Both of the twins had their hair up. Hanna had a black velvet headband on her head while Joy wore a short black veil. Harwin too was in black.

As the funeral went on, Daena felt her patience disappearing by the second; on one hand, she wanted to give respect to her mother one last time. On the other hand, she hated bearing witness to this. She wanted to run away from the darkness and the pain.

Finally, it was over. It was customary that after the funeral, the bereaved would go inside, raising cups and eating in honor of the deceased. But Daena had other things in mind. Detaching herself from her grandmother, she started walking toward the hill.

Ignoring all calls, she continued without turning back. From the other side of the hill, Vermithor appeared, hissing and clicking. She walked up the hill, determined to get away from any man or woman. Once she reached the top, Daena fell to her knees. Vermithor lowered his head, wanting to be closer to his rider.

Feeling his need for contact, she lifted her veil, showing her face to her dragon. Vermithor's great amber eyes looked over Daena and he could see and feel her pain. He's been feeling her pain ever since she was assaulted weeks ago at her name-day party. With trembling hands, she touched his snout and leaned her head onto his.

A deep rumble left his mouth as he nudged her body with his snout; it was his way of comforting her. Usually, she would play into it and pretend to fall. But not today. Today she stayed seated, her eyes glued to the wet grass. She could feel his hot breath as he opened his mouth and growled.

A great wave of emotion washed over her - anguish, pain, a sense of injustice, a desire to just disappear, and anger. Anger at her father not being there for her. Anger at herself for not being able to stop her mother's passing. Anger at the gods for taking her mother away from her.

Perhaps being next to her dragon amplified her feelings or perhaps she was just fed up with everything. Either way, the fire in her blood ran hot and rage flowed through her veins. Hot tears ran down her face as she beat her fists against the cold earth. Gripping the grass tightly, she screamed. Feeling her immense sorrow, Vermithor roared, his voice echoing through the valley.

Pulling the grass harshly from the ground, she keeled over, sobs wrecking her body. Feeling the distress of his rider, Vermithor swished his tail against the ground, making the earth below him shake.

Upon hearing the news of his wife's passing, Daemon knew he had to return to the Vale. Not because he cared for Rhea, but because of Daena. He knew how attached she was to her mother.

Looking down from atop Caraxes he could see the castle of Runestone getting bigger and bigger. But something else caught his eye - on a nearby hill, Vermithor stood, furious and wailing from what Daemon could see and hear. Caraxes let out small clicks and whistles of acknowledgment as he descended and landed at the base of the hill.

As he dismounted Caraxes he could see someone approaching him. At first, it just looked like a big ball of black running down the hill, but he quickly realized who it was.

"Kepa! Kepa!" (Father!)

The frantic voice of his daughter rang loudly in his ears. Before he could register what was happening, Daena was in his arms. He stumbled a bit from the force of her hug. She was a sobbing, coughing mess, clinging desperately to him.

"It hurts! It-it hurts. Daddy, please! Make it s-stop!" Daena babbled.

"What hurts?" He asked as he guided both of them down to sit on the grass.

"M-my heart! It hurts so b-bad. Daddy please!"

Daemon didn't know what to say. He was never the best when it came to comforting people, but for her, he would try. He pulled her into his lap and played with her hair, just like when she was a toddler.

"Mother is - she's...she's g-gone." Daena sobbed. "Please don't leave me. Please. I need you. Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," Daemon promised. And this time, he meant it.

Two months later

The royal wedding of Princess Rhaenyra to Ser Laenor Velaryon was to be held at the Red Keep in King's Landing. Lords and ladies from throughout the realm were descending upon the capital to attend this once-in-a-lifetime event that would unite the two most powerful houses in the Seven Kingdoms.

Seeing as Daena was a member of the royal family, she knew she had to go. Perhaps, she could've used the excuse of being in mourning as an explanation as to why she would not attend. But once her father told her he would go, she knew she also had to go.

And now here she was, back in King's Landing, after almost a year in the Vale. Her grandmother decided to stay at Runestone, seeing as Amanda gave birth just one day after Lady Rhea's funeral. Harwin, Joy, and Hanna would join Daena in King's Landing.

She, alongside her father, decided to arrive at the wedding on dragon back. The two stayed behind at Runestone and only started their journey south one day before the wedding. Her gown and accessories for the wedding were with the twins who had traveled down from the Vale over two weeks ago.

Arriving at King's Landing in the early morning hours, long before sunrise, Daena made her way to the Red Keep. Immediately upon arrival, Daena was greeted by the twins who ushered her to her old room where she was to rest before the start of the wedding feast.

The great Throne Room of the Red Keep was transformed into a banquet hall fit for a royal wedding. The banners of House Targaryen and House Velaryon hung on opposite sides of the Iron Throne. A long table was set before the throne where the royal family sat.

With trepidation, Daena made her way to the Throne Room. This would be her first public appearance since the death of her mother. She was still in mourning and wanted nothing more than to seclude herself and ignore the rest of the world, but what choice did she have?

"Princess Daena Targaryen!" The voice of Ser Harrold Westerling rang across the Hall as he announced her presence.

The Princess strode into the Great Hall, tall and gaunt. The black silk of her dress only accentuated her pale complexion and the emptiness in her eyes. Her dark gown flowed behind her, making her look like an unworldly wraith.

Murmurs and whispers could be heard all across the room but Daena paid them no mind. With her head high, she made her way up the stairs to the royal table. She curtseyed to her uncle and Rhaenyra.

"Your Grace. Cousin." She greeted politely. A look of pity formed on the King's face.

"My dear, I must say, I was most distressed to hear of Lady Rhea's tragic passing. I know how close you were with her. I'm very sorry for your loss."

Daena gave an awkward smile. "Thank you, Uncle."

"Iksan sīr vaoreznuni, hāedar. Iksis konīr mirros kostan gaomagon?" (I am so sorry, little sister. Is there anything I can do?) Rhaenyra asked.

"....Are you happy, cousin?" Daena asked.

Rhaenyra seemed confused by the question. "I am."

Daena nodded. "Good. At least one of us is."

And with that, she sat at the edge of the table, somber and quiet. Lord Lyonel, who was sitting to her left, offered his condolences. As did every lord and lady who approached the royal table. She was getting sick of it and wasn't sure if she could handle it for another couple of hours.

To her immense pleasure, Alicent was nowhere in sight as she was "still readying herself for the celebration" as His Grace explained to Jason Lannister.

"Lord Corlys of House Velaryon; Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark. His lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, and their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon - the future king consort!"

Dressed in rich fabrics embroidered with gold, House Velaryon made their entrance. Everyone in the Hall stood up and clapped. Once they reached the foot of the table, Rhaenyra walked around it and greeted Laenor and he kissed her hand. Daena noticed Uncle Viserys glancing at Alicent's empty seat.

Once the Velaryons were seated, an unexpected visitor arrived - Prince Daemon. Strutting confidently down the Hall in his red and black clothes with a smirk on his face, he silently approached the table and gave his brother a mischievous smile.

King Viserys wordlessly gestured for another chair to be added to the table. Daena watched as her father sat down next to her. He made himself comfortable in the chair and once he did, he turned his head toward her. No smile was present on her face, yet her eyes gave away how glad she was of his arrival.

He grabbed her right hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. They continued holding hands, which warmed her broken heart just a little bit.

Uncle Viserys then gave a speech about uniting House Targaryen and Velaryon and how much of an important ally they were to the crown. Yet, he stopped, looking at something down the hall. Everyone, including Daena, followed his line of vision.

At the top of the stairs, on the other side of the Hall, stood Queen Alicent. Dressed in a dark green gown, she stood out amongst the crowd. She walked with a look of determination on her face and a certain fierceness was in her eyes, never before seen on the young queen. House Hightower immediately stood up, and everyone else followed suit. Except for Daemon and Daena, who remained firmly seated.

Daemon completely ignored her, looking down at his nails, while Daena stared Alicent down with a look of pure disgust and vitriol on her face, not caring for what others might say in the slightest. Alicent walked past them, walking up to Rhaenyra.

"Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you." Alicent said connivingly to Rhaenyra and proceeded to kiss His Grace on the cheek.

Daena caught sight of Rhaenyra's face - a look of surprise and worry was on her cousin's face. She also shared a look with her father; his pale eyebrows were raised and he was hiding his face behind his cup, almost like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. He obviously found Alicent's stunt ridiculous.

Laenor and Rhaenyra proceeded to perform an Old Valyrian dance that imitated dragon flight. It was a sight to see as the two spread their arms like dragons do their wings and circled each other. Daena noticed how intensely her father was watching Rhaenyra and she couldn't help but wonder if Rhaenyra had something to do with Daemon's banishment.

Rhaenyra in her stunning, pure white gown looked like the Maiden herself. Her silver hair was pulled up in an intricate hairdo with a bunch of rubies sewn into her hair. Daena could not say if she liked it or not. In the end, everyone clapped, Daemon more enthusiastically than others.

Other people proceeded to stand up and join the soon-to-be-wed couple on the dance floor. Among them, Daena easily spotted Joy in her bright violet gown as she practically hopped her way to the dance floor. She somehow managed to drag Hanna along, which brought a small smile to Daena's face.

Alicent then stood up and walked down toward the Hightowers and conversed with her uncle Hobert. Daena's eyes then fell upon her secret lover. Harwin was sitting next to his brother, Larys, and the two were having a conversation.

She couldn't help but admire his rugged beauty; his dark blue suit sat perfectly on his broad shoulders, and his dark curls were pulled back into a bun, freeing his handsome face. Almost like he sensed she was watching him, he locked eyes with her. She instantly looked away, her heart skipping a beat.

Her happiness was short-lived because the next time her eyes found Harwin he was on the dance floor, dancing with Rhaenyra! She did say to him before the feast she wouldn't be dancing as she was in no mood to do such things, but she didn't expect him to go and dance with her cousin of all people.

She watched as Rhaenyra giggled at something he said and how happy he seemed around her. Why wouldn't he? She was the Realm's Delight. She was the crown Princess. She was the future Queen. Of course, he was enamored with her.

Bitter jealousy nested itself into Daena's heart. Jealousy and envy. Jealousy, for she had no desire to share her lover with Rhaenyra. Envy, because Rhaenyra seemed to be the most desired woman in the Seven Kingdoms and had so many things Daena wanted.

Over the course of the night, Daena also noticed Ser Criston staring intensely at Rhaenyra. It seemed every man in Westeros desired Rhaenyra. Daena knew all of these feelings were irrational and knew Rhaenyra would never hurt her in such a way but, jealousy was a mad viper and its venom spread through Daena's heart.

She was so deep into her head that she failed to notice Lady Laena sharing glances with her father from across the table. The food that was in front of her went cold for she had no appetite to begin with, now, even less. She also failed to see Joy dancing and smiling with Ser Elmo Tully.

Her body was turned to the right, that way she wouldn't have to look at Alicent. The one time she did glance at Alicent, she appeared to be just as miserable as Daena was. At least that brought her some satisfaction.

Her father proceeded to get up from the table and go into the dancing crowd. First, he conversed with Laena. After that, he went up to Rhaenyra who was still dancing with Harwin. Father said something to Harwin who stepped away.

Harwin caught sight of Daena's face - it was twisted in anger. Her lilac eyes fell upon him and even from across the Hall, he could feel a rageful fire exuding from them. He wondered why that was.

"Your dear Princess seems less than happy with you," Larys commented as Harwin sat down.

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at her. She is fuming. I wouldn't be surprised if she started spitting actual fire upon you."

"And why would she do such a thing?" Harwin inquired.

"Something tells me she wasn't overly pleased seeing you dance with Princess Rhaenyra," Larys clarified.

"...It was all in good faith." Harwin tried explaining.

"I don't think that's how she sees it," Larys commented before taking a sip of his wine.

From her seat at the table, Daena had a clear view of her father grabbing Rhaenyra by the neck and pulling her closer. She furrowed her brows; What in the Seven Hells are they doing?

Then, a scream echoed through the Throne Room.

Something was happening at the dance floor, but thanks to the crowd Daena couldn't see a thing. She quickly stood up from her chair and tried peering through the mass of people.

"Where's Rhaenyra?" Daena asked, those being the first words she uttered after hours of silence. All her negative feelings disappeared once she realized her cousin was in danger.

"What in the Seven Hells is going on?" Uncle Viserys said as he got up. Quickly, a group of guards appeared.

"RHAENYRA!" Daena yelled trying to locate her. Daena tried looking for Nyra's silver hair but, she was never the tallest, so she was quickly engulfed by the mass. Joy and Hanna were also on the dance floor, so Daena worried for them as well.

Uncle Viserys walked around the table, trying to locate Rhaenyra as well. It was absolute mayhem. Daena joined her uncle at the front. She locked eyes with Harwin from across the hall.

"Get Rhaenyra!" She yelled. Harwin proceeded to fight his way through the crowd.

Next to her, Uncle Viserys bent forward, not feeling well.

"Uncle! Are you alright?" She asked, worry lacing her voice as she noticed his nose bleeding. He didn't respond.

As she turned her gaze once again to the crowd, in the corner of her eye something caught her attention. A short girl in a light pink gown held onto a chair for dear life; Lady Patricia Beesbury, Daena quickly realized.

The girl, blind from birth, had no idea what was going on and a look of terror was on her face. Springing to action, Daena jumped from the small platform she was standing on and ran toward Patricia, her black gown billowing behind her.

She could hear Lord Lyonel yelling her name in the background but she didn't care. She needed to help Patricia.

"Patricia! It's me, Daena! Come with me, quickly!" Daena said to the girl and tightly grabbed her arm.

There was no way they could get back to the platform so instead, Daena set her eyes on one of the pillars. With an iron-tight grip, she held onto Patricia and the two tried to escape the crowd. She heard what she thought was Harwin's voice calling for her, but she wasn't sure.

The two girls were pushed and pulled by the crowd but somehow managed to escape. Daena pulled Patricia and swung her around, pushing her against one of the large pillars. There, they stayed hidden.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Daena asked, breathless.

The poor girl looked horrified and had tears running down her cheeks. Daena looked her over and besides her hair being a mess, she seemed fine.

"I-I-I...Thank you. I'm f-fine." Patricia spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. Daena let out a sigh of relief.

Then everything went silent and the cries of Ser Laenor echoed through the Hall. Daena peeked out over the pillar and saw Laenor crawling over to a man's dead body. Daena would later learn this was Ser Joffrey Lonmouth.

"We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one." The dull voice of the Septon continued reciting the wedding prayer.

"Father. Mother. Warrior..."

Daena stood behind Alicent and Uncle Viserys. Her tight bun was now loose and barely in shape, thanks to her little rescue only minutes ago. Lord Lyonel was to her right. She couldn't have imagined a worse outcome for a wedding; a man dead and the rest of the celebrations canceled.

"Hear now their vows."

Rhaenyra approached Laenor, kissed him on the cheek, and said her vows.

"I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come."

Laenor did the same, but truth be told, neither of them sounded honest or happy about it.

"....I proclaim Laenor of House Velaryon and Rhaenyra of House Targaryen to be man and wife...Now and forever."

Daena's head was pulsating, almost like someone took a hammer and was hitting her repeatedly with it. She gripped the skirt of her gown tightly, taking in small breaths through her nose. Her left wrist, the one sprained months ago, was hurting as well.

All this newfound chaos only worsened her already fragile mental state. Now her cousin's wedding was ruined, her father was gone, again, and she didn't even know where to start with Harwin. It was all too much.

It seemed she was not the only one feeling that way. Uncle Visers keeled over, his crown falling from his head. Rhaenyra, Alicent, Lord Corlys, and Lord Lyonel all rushed to help him. Closing her eyes, she sighed. Her ears were ringing and her vision was becoming fogged. An uncomfortable heat spread through her body.

I can't take it anymore.

Without even thinking, she started walking away, leaving all that mess behind her. The click of her heels echoed as she practically ran toward the door. She barely missed the puddle of blood still left on the floor.

Harwin stood in front of the Throne Room, waiting for Daena to come out. Suddenly, the great doors were opened and she came rushing out. Not noticing him, she started walking briskly down the halls of the Red Keep.

"Daena!" He called for her. She seemingly ignored him and started sprinting toward the grand staircase.

He started running after her.

Right when she reached the stairs, she fell to her knees, her hand grabbing onto the railing.

He caught her just before she toppled over. "Daena! What's happened? Tell me!"

"The king has fallen...Call the measter..." She whispered, her voice weak and broken.

"What? What do you mean?"

He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. He called her name, asking if she could hear him. Her gaze was blank and distant, unfocused. The grip she had on his arm lessened. She leaned her head onto his chest and then she went limp.

"...Daena? My love, please! Get up!" Harwin pleaded, his usually stoic voice now ripe with emotion.

He picked her up and carried her to her chambers with haste. He hated the feeling of her limp body in his arms. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. Once again he failed to protect her and the shame pierced his heart.

57 notes · View notes

theender36 · 6 months ago

Text

I got some thoughts on Sonic 3 that I wanna talk about so

⚠️ Spoilers for the movie Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024) ⚠️

Love that the riff from Live and Learn is used as a leitmotif for Shadow but also Maria was playing it on her guitar which is sad and now I'm picturing Shadow playing that riff in his head all the time

Right before Shadow busts out of containment his heart monitor starts going and then stops which I'm interpreting as his heart beating so fast it doesn't register

They didn't outright say it but Gerald is the one who hacked into GUN to revive Shadow. I don't think they addressed how he got out of prison but he probably built something in his cell

I love the running gag that Ozzie the golden retriever resents Sonic

Loved the joke about Sonic's security system (nunchucks) still working (hit himself in the face again)

Shadow has always been a foil for Sonic but the movie fully realizes the potential of that dynamic in my opinion. They both have a loneliness deep inside from losing someone they loved but Sonic was able to move on and find more family. Shadow hasn't had that chance yet

They used the "Talk about low budget flights" line!

The credits said they used the City Escape music but I must have missed it

Wild that they gave Shadow a gun and a motorcycle again and made it work this time. It probably has something to do with him doing the Akira slide up the side of a building

The CG animation really shines in this movie. I kept looking at how good the reflections in their eyes were. And the fight scenes just had so much slick movement and speed while also properly conveying what was actually happening

When the egg-drones show up, you assume they're going after Team Sonic. But Gerald is controlling the drones so they were definitely gunning for Walters

A Traveling Wilburys song during the flashback was a surprise to be sure but a welcome one. However, I will nitpick the fact that the song End of the Line came out in 1988, which would have been 14 years after Shadow was locked away

Biolizard cameo as the kaiju in the movie Maria and Shadow are watching

Eggman says something about having some unknown quality that makes him "totally undesirable to all possible genders" which suggests to me that he has tried dating loads of people with various gender identities (Woah, he's pansexual! I didn't know that!)

You may ask why the plot treats G.U.N. keeping the other key to the Eclipse Cannon like it's a bad thing. For one thing, the Robotniks are gonna try to steal it, and for another, I don't think a secretive yet fallible military organization having access to a doomsday weapon is a good thing

The concept of G.U.N. keeping a vault that has no records of it so that people can't visualize it to use Warp Rings is very cool and almost SCP-esque

Big fan of Shadow's solution to a telenovela love triangle being for the woman to just kill the two men vying for her affections

Love the subversion of a fight between Sonic and Knuckles with Knuckles instead relenting because he trusts that Sonic will do the right thing in the end

That being said, Knuckles desperately needs a flying island to keep the Master Emerald safe because Wade just ain't gonna cut it

There are a small handful of moments where I think Jim Carey did a really good job of dramatic acting. In particular, the final flashback to Maria's death where he manages to really show the loss and heartbreak Gerald experiences despite wearing a goofy prosthetic

Gerald turning ice-cold to Eggman when he says "You're no Maria"

So glad they did a DragonBall-style Super fight between Sonic and Shadow. If you're gonna make a movie with a bunch of CGI, you might as well go a little nuts with it

You may ask "how are Sonic and Shadow breathing in space?" The same way they do in the games babeeeyyyyy

Shadow and Gerald really wanted to kill the whole world and themselves. And once the Cannon was charged, Shadow didn't care anymore. He was totally willing to let Sonic punch a hole in his chest

Of course, Sonic comes to his senses and is willing to talk with Shadow after sparing him. I love that what changed Shadow's mind was remembering what Maria told him about the stars. That even when they're gone, their light still shines

They literally Lived and Learnt

I wish the Live and Learn sequence wasn't interrupted by Gerald giving Eggman an over-the-knee grandpappy spanking but what can you do

I'm glad that Tails and Knuckles weren't just sidelined for the third act. They show up to save Eggman, help redirect the Cannon, and then save Sonic. Would have been really awkward if they made such a big deal about teamwork only for Sonic to wrap up the conflict on his own

Tails is really chill about Eggman stabbing his grandpa in the butt and launching him into a giant bug zapper

Eggman comes to terms with his own loneliness and is willing to sacrifice himself to save the world not just because he wants to rule it but because he has someone to care about

Missed opportunity for a "Sayonara, Shadow the Hedgehog"

I know it's still a family friendly movie but it's odd that Tom got kicked by an enraged hedgehog moving at the speed of light and all he got was an arm in a sling

The mid-credits scene got me hyped. I can't wait to see who they have voicing Amy. And I like the decision to have an army of Metal Sonics

I hope the next movie explores more about where the animal characters come from because we really don't know much. I'm guessing whoever is behind the Metal Army is from there

Post-credits scene, of course Shadow lived but I'm hyped to see what direction they take that in. Are they gonna do the amnesia thing or will he just be stranded somewhere?

I know that using Chaos Control requires an emerald and the movies established that the Chaos Emeralds are held within the Master Emerald but it sucks they never said it except for in the Shadow Generations DLC. So uh 0/5, do better

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog 3 #sonic 3 #shadow the hedgehog #sonic movie spoilers #sonic movie #sonic movie 3

53 notes · View notes

ghostwise · 2 months ago

Text

Aufra sits by the fire, the full curve of her belly shadowed in the light. Her shadow flickers against the wall while Allerleirauh is curled up on a temporary cot, beneath a borrowed blanket.

Allerleirauh watches the shadows. She thinks of eclipses, of wheels turning, and of the roundness of a cat’s eye. Her head aches. She’s worn out from crying. But Aufra has not cried today.

Calisca is three days dead, and four hours buried. But Aufra has not cried today.

Calisca is dead, and what survived of Allerleirauh is hollowed out, scraped thin. If only that meant she was empty! She’s not sure what dreadful thing has rushed in to fill the vacant space left after the bîaŵac, only that it whispers at her day and night. She has not made mention of this to her host—she has just enough sense to know it would complicate things, and this is delicate as it is.

A man, insubstantial as air, drifts through the room. He glowers at Allerleirauh before dissipating into the ether.

It undoes her. She is weeping again. Aufra slowly rises.

“I’ll brew us some tea,” she whispers, and Aller thinks, with a stab of guilt, that she is not the one who has lost a sister.

Around midday the miller stops by. Aller stares at him, worrying at a ragged fingernail as he chats with Aufra. He brings grain, and his condolences. He’s heard about her sister. He’s also heard and about her peculiar guest, the woman who dragged Calisca miles through the wilderness to deliver her home.

He tips his hat in greeting, and Allerleirauh frowns. He must be real. Trumbel is too ridiculous a name to have come from her delusions.

“I’m sure sorry to hear about Cal,” he says. “You did good making it so her kin could pay proper respects.”

Aller nods. The rest of the conversation between Aufra and the miller slides right past her. Something about trouble in the town. Unhappiness. Food scarcity. Were she still trading with her caravan, Gilded Vale would present an enticing prospect. Hungry people were desperate people, and she could always flip between generosity and opportunism on a whim.

“Your neighbors are kind,” she tells Aufra after he’s left.

She gives her a thin smile. “He’s sticking his neck out, setting food aside for me,” she murmurs. “People are… so angry lately. But Trumbel’s a good sort. Troubled times, but Gilded Vale is like that, full of good people. You have to believe that, regardless of…” Aufra hesitates, before finishing her words in a soft exhale, “anything else you might see.”

“I believe it,” Aller says. “You’re helping me, after all. A stranger.”

“A friend of Calisca’s is a friend of mine.”

“Mm,” Aller says, the sentiment drawing a wounded sound from her. Aufra looks up at her as she hurriedly turns away. She’s wept enough in front of this woman, intruded upon her space, delivered horrible news… how can she ever repay her?

“I appreciate that, truly, I…”

She is desperate to avoid the topic of Calisca, but her words fail her. One would never believe that she was a Chanter.

“I’m sorry. I’m… not quite myself of late,” she finishes lamely.

“I understand.”

Aller nods. Probably she does.

“What did Trumbel bring, anyway?”

Aufra holds up the bag of grain. “Seminola.”

“Seminola?” Aller puts her hands together, in an unconvincing attempt at cheer. “Well… let’s make something.”

“I was going to have it in a porridge,” Aufra says. “I don’t really have a lot…”

“I will bring ingredients. It is the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.” Allerleirauh is already pulling on her ragged boots, and her travel coat. She has not washed in days, she looks like she hasn’t slept for longer. “We can add eggs, cheese… or do you prefer a sweet pudding? I can find raisins.”

Aufra lets out an incredulous laugh, struck by the suggestion. “I haven’t seen a raisin in months,” she replies.

It is a bad idea, to be sure, but there is no stopping her now that she’s fixed on this idea. Aller is already at the door. Her sanity and her grief are vast and overwhelming matters. A grocery list is a small one.

“I’ll be back,” she calls out.

She’s gone then, and Aufra stands in place, thinks about what she just said.

“Months,” she repeats, hands smoothing over her belly, her eyes welling with tears in the silence. Her voice catches as she continues. “Maybe even a year. How… silly. I never liked them much to begin with, but I hadn’t realized, until just now…”

She feels better when she’s moving.

Allerleirauh hurries down the lane, making little note of the muddy puddles and debris. She scans her surroundings. She finds herself under a flat, grey sky. She nearly collides with a woman—but in the blink of an eye the woman isn’t there, and Aller lets out a startled yelp when she vanishes.

“Stop, stop,” she whispers. “Stop it, all of you. Gods—”

This isn’t good. She looks every bit like the mad old man who roamed her home town in Ixamitl, depending on the generosity of others to survive. Aller is not insane, she’s ill; she was ill when the ambush happened and the fright of it all has resulted in some fevered notion persevering in her head. The woman she loves is dead and she is forced to conclude that Calisca never, not once, mentioned her to her family. She won’t weep in Aufra’s home any further, that much she’s stubbornly decided.

Eggs and cheese. Raisins, or jam if the store doesn’t have any. Allerleirauh rounds a corner, her path curving near a low stone wall. She slows to a stop and stares.

Gilded Vale is rural. Agricultural. She knows its like well. A small temple for the townspeople to pray at. A single, storied inn. It’s a quiet place where people lead simple lives.

A sizable tree grows at the center of town, its canopy visible over the low buildings.

The tree’s branches creak in the wind, burdened by countless dead bodies. They hang by the neck, hanging from rope, from leather cord, from burlap twine, ripped sheets. Dwarves, elves, humans, a few orlans. Some look freshly dead, others are badly decayed, around the neck especially.

A vision. Surely a vision of her distressed mind.

Aller approaches one of the men in the square. He kindly directs her to the nearby inn, while puffing away at his pipe.

This reasonably assures her that she is hallucinating. And yet, she finds that quite preferable to the alternative. She puts the tree out of her thoughts as she heads right for the Black Hound Inn.

#rinnywrites #pillars of eternity #oc: allerleirauh #back to my roots of writing disjointed scenes that are not part of anything and do not go anywhere <3 #god it's been months... i am rusty... this felt very uncomfortable like my writing muscles fell asleep and now they're all pins and needles

16 notes · View notes

lovelivingmydreams · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Same anon from before here I’m very glad my ask made you happy! I genuinely adore the raven poetry multiverse and get really excited every time you both post a new chapter and new art! Usually I’m not one for anything but oneshots but the story really got me! (Literally spinning all the universes around in my head like rotisserie chicken) is there any fun facts you’d like to share about any of the universes you haven’t gotten around to writing chapters for yet? (Without spoiling anything important obviously)

Ooooh That's a great question!!!! Lets see. @skeletinmoss and I do a few we want to share: -In one au Logan is a sugar daddy -Uncontrollably teleporting Remy is fun -And there is Tarot Remus. All his alters are a bit nuts, but he might be the nuttiest. (also in this one his boyfriend might be almost too much for him to handle but not more than he's willing to take) -The "No you" Janus ( no elaboration) -In one au Patton is trans and his hero name is an egg pun -Emile does standup in one that's fun -There is a very pretty glass manipulation power somewhere in there we are pretty excited about -not something for the future but we are both very fond of the karaoke stream. Just the online personality shenanigans in every au are so much fun. -Honestly i love how Remus is always the one with the least personal drama. He's just living his best life. Small exception in eclipse but that's not his fault -I am so soft for Roman hanging out with kids. If you guys aren't careful i'm going to drag that stuff out so much when i can. -I also look forward to every instance where Roman has to stand up for himself. He sometimes has a bad boyfriend, rival or ex and it always makes for such a great moment of prioritizing his well being over accomodating their needs. -all that good puppy Roman content. I am so open to you guys suggesting things to do with that whenever we write full moon -hehe Journalists being Roman's nemesis -Detective Logan being clueless to not so well kept secrets -And I can't wait what you'll guys will pick for our next project after we finish Raven poetry! We decided to let you guys pick.

#sanders sides #raven poetry multiverse

24 notes · View notes

vtimbertiger · 1 year ago

Text

RIPTIDE THEORY TIME BECAUSE I JSUT CONSUMED ALL PUBLIC MEDIA IN THE SPAN OF LIKE A MONTH

THIS BITCH BE A LONG POST BUT I SEGMENTED IT INTO DIFFERENT CHARACTERS AND WHAT I DEEM TO BE THE MOST CONCERNING PART OF THEM

Niklaus Hendrix

While he definitely holds a major role in all events that the trio have gone through, I think Nik is a red herring to what the bigger antagonist is.

Nik is a pirate first and he chases what he desires, and it is .. peculiar .. that his compass opened the Hole in the Sea, but then again Nik has the power to open pocket dimensions.

He wants something else in the Hole, maybe the power that the Entity contains.

Doctor Ooze

Straight up, I think he was the 8-armed man on Zero/Canella: poly-armed with an ominous omnipotent eye (tattoo) on his forehead, bald with beard. He needed a place to start his research and what better place than the beginning of where his new subjects started.

Legend Lore of the Black Sea Map

"A map that is a guide, and a key, / Passed around the hands of destiny. / It leads to Chaos Infinity beneath the seas. / The Guarding Giant, the Nameless Prince, the Unborn Kings, / All await to be inevitably free."

I don't think we have seen any of the 3 Unspeakables. The 3 Unspeakables are not free, implying they too might be sealed away with the Dark Entity from the prophecy.

It's been hinted at that Dr. Ooze is the Nameless Prince, as he has similar intentions to creating a single race and has been on a rampage destroying other worlds. Gillion(?) suggested that Jug the Tortle is the Guarding Giant. But im not fully buying either of these.

I think the Unborn Kings doesn't literally mean unborn or "embryo", but rather they themselves don't know their role and have yet to realize that in themselves. I'm inclined to believe Chip might even be one, with all of his struggles believing in himself to be a leader/captain/good person.

Potentially others of the main cast (trio & primary NPCs) may also be Unborn Kings in this sense. HOWEVER due to Jay, Queen, Earl, etc. have left the Black Sea, they are now excluded from this. Leaving Chip, Gillion, Gryffon, and Drey (though we lost Drey somewhere to the Hole).

The True Prophecy

"An Entity threatens the world of stability, / Caged in the deepest layers of infinity. / The seal remains locked by a key of divinity, its release in time an inevitability. // A Seagods last egg, The Chosen is born, / Underneath an eclipse, in the midst of a storm. / 'Foreboded calamity' The Chosen is warned, / the shape of all life shall take a new form. / It's choice to be made with no time to mourn."

On youtube during the animation, the "key of divinity" was shown as the black and gold egg, the same one as in the one-shot. However, I don't think the egg is the key, but rather the hands reaching for it. Gillion is our only known divine being of our main cast, and I believe he is the only one who can handle the egg without collapsing the pocket-realm (like what happened in the one-shot).

"Deepest layers of infinity" could be a very broad perspective of what life is inside the egg. Much like Gillion in the Luxbris Pearl, where he was falling for infinity in an enclosed space, the egg may be of similar ability.

We also know that this Entity, has been fought before. So if the egg is the cage, it could be a reciprocal(?) being (similar to a phoenix, or the water horse if you've seen that movie) -- something that either rebirths or something that births a 'clone' and then dies itself.

---- explanation of first battle flashbacks ----

"[The Chosen's] choice to be made with no time to mourn" -- Our boy Gillion is gonna have fucking rough decision soon, and potentially that decision is between the land or the sea (but I don't think so, that would be silly and a stupid prophecy because the one cannot survive without the other as The Tree said)

Faye & Jason Ferin

Jason is a fucking Clone Soldier like DoppelGillion was. We don't have dates or a time frame for when those experiments were happening, but it sounds like it happened before the Hole in the Sea.

That means it likely happened around/shortly after Ava Ferin's death. "My son is stable", Ava's death likely shattered him (as losing a child does). I believe Faye offered this to him as 'a way to heal' when in reality it was to keep his focus on his work -- which also ties in to how focused he became for the promotion, and started to disregard his family as a whole.

The only thing that doesn't fully add up is how he responded to Jay about her mother/his wife. I wouldn't think an obedient clone would call off a Navy objective for a (now) false family.

So alternatively, like Gillion, Jason was hooked up to the repression machine to block out the emotions he felt about Ava's death as to regear him towards work. But a side affect means that those emotions were connected beyond Ava and reached the rest of his family.

Captain Lizzie & the Navy Mole

John and Caspian come to mind first as they are generally the most involved NPCs of her crew.

However, Caspian had been a pirate and with Lizzie well before she became a captain. Caspian being the mole just doesn't make sense character wise -- but at the same time he would be who Lizzie would trust most and ultimately be the biggest aid to the Navy.

John would make the most sense logically as he was a Navy Marshal. The way he went about becoming a pirate seems too out there to be faked. Also, I would think a higher up (Faye Ferin) might have (discretely) pulled him before he was sent into the Block as he would have more information on pirate plans than what he would be able to message.

And that leaves Rudith, the medic. He was on Jeraldo Island passively listening to all pirates who came in for aid. Yes, he had a safe house for the Granberry Pirates & Friends under his clinic, but that information seemed to be easily attainable, and maybe even for a price had the moment came.

Maybe an undercover Navy went in as sick, observed, saw Lizzie & Co frequent the clinic, then strike a deal to protect Rudith & his patients (despite the patients being pirates).

#SPOILERS #SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS #I'm also cross referencing the prophecy and the legends lore and the Ferin tablets #just everything #I'm gonna post those 3 and my notes just so they're all in the same place #AND I WILL DEFINITELY BE ADDING ON TO THIS AS I BRAIN ROT #just roll with it #jrwi riptide #jrwi riptide spoilers #JRWI riptide theories #jrwi lizzie #jrwi jayson ferin #JRWI riptide prophecy #jrwi niklaus #JRWI doctor ooze

4 notes · View notes

mrs-gauche · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Any thoughts on the 'hidden track' at the end of the Bonus DLC Tracks for the new Dragon Age Vinyl set? "D'Read Koda" can be interpreted so many ways but 'dread bear'? Coda, the musical notation? (Do you suppose there's any connection to the bear and maiden graffiti art we see several places in Inquisition [or any connection between that mural and the one from The Missing {moon atop the bear and halla horns on the maiden?}])

Hi! Thanks for the ask! :D And yeah, I've been super curious about this as well! (And also the pre-sale for the vinyl now starting at the same day that the final volume of The Missing is coming out, May 10th 👀 but ALSO everything about the cover, like the GOLDEN CITY (omg???), the enormous DRAGON (Mythal???), the vines/tree branches (like Mythal's vallaslin/visions of her conquering in Trespasser??), the ECLIPSE in the background (according to Dalish mythology Mythal "created" the moon/"An Eclipse as Fen'Harel stirred"??), the summit/mountain beneath it (!!) and that single hooded person (with a staff resembling the headpiece of one of the two figures in the 2020 teaser mural/symbols in the new cinematic)?? The potential LORE revelations on this thing are absolutely bonkers, but I digress! 😂)

Anyway! I actually thought something similar when I first saw that mysterious hidden track name, that it has to be some kind of anagram or wordplay, given how much BioWare LOVES to do those and also with the musical term "coda" being spelled with a "k" for some reason, but what stood out to me especially was the random apostrophe that's in there, since the devs are also known for their (internal) "disputes" about the extensive use of apostrophes in DA for the elven language and names. lol

So to me the odd spelling plus the random apostrophe points more to it being an anagram for a specific elven term, but I have yet to decipher what it could be. 🤔

My second thought was if this "hidden track" could actually just be the final part in the "extended version" of the Lost Elf theme (starting at about 10:13), but then I looked up the game's files and noticed that this specific tune actually plays (though only once) when you first get to the Darvaarad and the full piece is about 2:40 minutes long (the hidden track being only 1:08), leading me to think this is probably what's titled "Qunari Atmosphere" on the tracklist. And after going through all the Trespasser music files I could find, there was nothing hinting at something like "D'Read Koda" either. :/

But you're right, "Koda" is also a term in the Dakota language meaning "friend/ally" or "little bear", but I'm completely at a loss as to what that could refer to. For all we know, it could be a reference to frigging Storvacker. 😂

As for your second question though, since you brought up "The Bear and the Maiden" painting/mural in connection to the mural in volume 3 of The Missing, there are actually a few other interesting aspects to this that I've been thinking about, but before I start rambling get to that point, let me just put the rest under a cut so people don't get spammed with an exhaustingly long text post. lol

First off, for reference, this is the painting we're talking about, featured in various places throughout DAI!

People have made quite a few speculations about this imagery over the years. For one, given that it is not exclusively found in elven ruins and filed under "Fereldan art" in the game's files, some people assume it could depict an old legend of the Alamarri. Others have suggested that it's actually just a little easter egg in reference to the "The Bear and the Fair Maiden" song in ASOIAF. lol

But by far the most popular take on this, is that this is depicting the elven gods Dirthamen and Ghilan'nain. Based on Ghilan'nain's sacred animal being the halla and the lady with her all white appearance and her antlers kinda resembling one as well. And Dirthamen's sacred animal being a bear (among others, I think). Which would pose the question though, why these two are portrayed in such a way, when there's nothing in the lore that could give us an explanation?

To me, it almost looks like the maiden is trying to calm the bear down/keep him in check, who has gone out of control and is now turning into a wild beast (that can apparently also breath fire? lol). With what we know of Ghilan'nain now, it's definitely possible that her horrifying experiments and creation of all kinds of freaky creatures might have inspired such imagery.

So, while I can see how you could draw a parallel to the mural in volume 3 with the way they're positioned/embrace each other, I don't know what else to derive from this, other than that it would point to the bottom "red one" being Ghilan'nain and the "green one" being Andruil and not the other way around, or that Andruil was maybe able to shapeshift into a bear? lol But if we're going with my assumption that the bear is losing control over itself, maybe it could refer to the stories of Andruil succumbing to madness from hunting the Forgotten Ones in the Void. As opposed to the mural in the comic, where they seem to be rather peacefully in love (to me at least).

But while we're at it, let us go back to Ghilan'nain and Dirthamen's potential connection real quick (because I've been thinking about it 😶)! What's interesting to me, is that these two have actually been mentioned together in the lore, too, looking at this ancient elven writing for example that is only revealed to you when using Veilfire at the Temple of Mythal:

"His crime is high treason. He took on a form reserved for the gods and their chosen, and dared to fly in the shape of the divine.The sinner belongs to Dirthamen; he claims he took wings at the urging of Ghilan'nain, and begs protection from Mythal. She does not show him favor, and will let Elgar'nan judge him."

"For one moment there is an image of a shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes, whose form may be one or many. Then it fades."

So there we have the two being involved in what appears to be a judgement on someone serving under Dirthamen, because of Ghilan'nain's actions. While we don't know how much of this actually happened, it definitely makes you wonder about their intentions here. Why would Ghil do this? And why specifically to someone serving under Dirthamen? What was the outcome? And what does this tell us about their relationship? (And now that I think about it, what if this sinner was actually the bear in the mural? lol)

As for the sinner himself. Now, I don't know about you, but when I reread this codex again after several playthroughs, particularly the “shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes” at the end, I thought “Wait. That kinda reminds me of something......”

Look, I know it doesn't appear that way when looking at my blog for like five minutes, but I certainly don't think that every single codex entry on elven myths should be automatically assumed to be about Solas. 😂 That being said, I can't help but feel like there's a connection to be made when looking at this other ancient inscription, that can be found in the final chamber of the Solasan Temple:

Faintly carved into the stone is a figure bound in chains. Two other figures have turned their gaze from the central image.

The script below the image is ancient, though Solas is able to provide a partial translation:

Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound.

Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within.

To me, this text always seemed to perfectly match up with the ancient writing in Mythal's temple. A person being judged for claiming (godhood?)/daring to fly in the shape of the divine (a dragon?), put in chains and "bound" as punishment (by Elgar'nan?). And again, there are two figures involved. If the events of these writings do connect, was this "sinner" the one belonging to Dirthamen, taking wings by the urging of Ghilan'nain and them now silently accepting Elgar'nan's judgement, making those two the "figures turning their gaze"?

The thing is, if I'm presented with an ancient elven text about someone's PRIDE being corrupted in a place called SOLASAN temple, how in the world am I NOT supposed to draw an immediate connection to Solas here? 😂 I'm not saying that the sinner in this story had to be him per se, but if the age-old theory about Solas having been a spirit of Wisdom once who somehow turned into Pride is true, then there's still the question of how or why exactly this corruption occurred? And, if anything, the story of this sinner would provide at least one possibility for what happened to someone who had been corrupted in ancient times.

"Cast from favor and so he was bound."

If Cole's cryptic comments in Trespasser are actually about Solas (and Mythal?), then it's safe to say that Solas was himself bound ("He left a scar when he burned her off his face"), which does make SO much sense, considering that he values free will above everything, his furious reaction to the Well of Sorrows is SO telling, oh and also, he lead a motherflippin Slave Rebellion. 😂

But if we're looking for further potential connections between Dirthamen, Ghilan'nain and Solas... Well, Dirthamen is not only called the Keeper of Secrets, but is also always associated with sharing wisdom, knowledge and giving counsel to those in need. His symbols also include two ravens. Wolf and raven being known for pretty cool 80s synthwave music having a special bond in many real life myths and legends.

And Ghilan'nain is the only elven god we know of who was a "huntress of the People" before she ascended to become the youngest of the elven pantheon (possibly because of her relationship with Andruil or her ability to "create" things). As far as we know, Solas was also one of the People before he "became" Fen'Harel. So they were very much alike in that sense.

There's also the tale in which Fen'Harel gets captured by Andruil, because he had angered her by “hunting the halla without her blessing”. Some people have taken this to mean that Solas made a move on Ghilan'nain or that they had something going, so naturally, given that Andruil and Ghilan'nain are believed to have also been lovers, she was not very amused about that. lol (Which would make the rest of the story even funnier, where Andruil declared to “punish” him by making him “serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back”. lmao)

Which brings us finally back to the mural in The Missing volume 3, that could depict Andruil and Ghilan'nain embracing each other, perhaps even romantically (btw, if you want to know why I think so, check out my post on volume 3. :D).

I kinda joked about it at first, but if we assume that this mural was actually made by Solas as well, then you do have to wonder why he would even choose to paint such an intimate moment between Ghilan'nain and Andruil, people he arguably despises? Though it'll be interesting to learn what their relationship was like before his rebellion and Mythal's murder. I mean, who knows, maybe the before-mentioned tale actually happened and all three of them made out afterwards (willingly or not). 😂 (I mean, we're still talking about immortal beings here, so what else are they gonna do all day? lol) Or maybe Solas was just the Evanuris' personal portrait/mural painter at one point. lol

Anyway, to conclude, all of this is partially why I assumed for the longest time, that the two figures seen in the 2020 teaser mural could be Ghilan'nain and Dirthamen (also the fact that Dirthamen's vallaslin matched up perfectly with the silhouette of the right figure and obviously everything about Ghilan'nain and her horrifying experiments in Tevinter Nights).

...but with everything we've learned since then, I'm now actually leaning more towards it being Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan (if you want to know why, I highly recommend watching this fantastic analysis!).

The only thing that still kinda irks me with this, is the fact that the only elven god that's known for wielding a spear like this is actually Andruil.

However, it is super suspicious to me how the "goddess" seen in this concept art seems to break out of what looks like huge ocean waves and how this "grey sludge stuff" from Ghil's ancient "pools" in Tevinter Nights was described to have "smelled like the ocean" AND the mention of (capital P) Pride in elven myths having "stopped Ghilan'nain's hand when she was about to destroy her creatures of the deep sea". 👀👀 (Also, is it just me or does the figure in the 2020 mural look like she's having algae hanging down her headpiece? Not to mention the tentacles. lol) So there's that.

Also, and I know this is the silliest reason, but I don't know if BioWare would expect new or casual players to keep up with all these long "complicated" elven names, since "Ghilan'nain" and "Elgar'nan" do sound kinda similar and people might get them mixed up. lmao So having Elgar'nan and Andruil might be a bit more distinguishable, just for the sake of making it a little easier for new players lol (I mean, they have changed names before to avoid this problem, like when the Tevinter city "Qarinus" was turned into "Ventus" because it sounded too similar to "Qunari", I think? 😂).

I don't know if any of this actually answered your question, I feel like I got carried away by like a mile. 😂 I don't know how I got from "D'Read Koda" on the vinyl to tentacles, but here we are. 😂 Those are my thoughts on.... a lot of stuff. lol

#dragon age the missing spoilers #tevinter nights #dragon age the missing #solas #ghilan'nain #dirthamen #andruil #tinfoil time #da4

69 notes · View notes

mama-qwerty · 2 years ago

Text

Darkling Wade - Instincts

Here we go!

I hope this comes across like I intended, and I’m not just reading it KNOWING how it should sound. Because it seemed really good in my head.

(Who is Callie?)

~~~~~

It had been four months since Wade became a Dark.

Four months of adjusting to: taking care of scales, not stepping on his own tail, working with three fingers instead of five, and preventing himself from scratching anything and everything with his claws. Not to mention the whole ‘see better at night so the slightest light source could blind him’ thing.

There were advantages. His sense of smell was much better now, which brought with it a few surprising benefits.

He could detect bad food much faster. As someone who used to mostly live off whatever he felt like tossing in a saucepan, this would have come in handy on more than a few occasions. Best by dates just never occurred to him a lot of the time, meaning he spent his fair share of nights curled on the bathroom floor.

And he’d always scoffed at the whole ‘scent of danger’ thing, but now he found it somewhat accurate. Sometimes he’d get a whiff of . . . something, and his senses would go on alert until he could determine what had set him off. Sometimes it was something small, like a new cat stalking through the trees near the house, but sometimes it was much more urgent, like the frayed wires in the light fixture over the sink. That had been disaster waiting to happen.

He also noticed each member of his family had a distinctive scent, too—he couldn’t always put a specific descriptor to it, but each brought to mind a certain feeling reminiscent of his childhood.

Callie was his Pap’s workshop, where he spent summers learning carpentry at his grandfather’s knee. Silver was his treehouse, his secret oasis when his father was too drunk and too loud. And Eclipse was the creek he loved to splash in on summer afternoons.

He couldn’t pinpoint why they brought these particular images to mind. They just did. It was weird.

And this wasn’t even touching on his new instincts. He seemed to devolve into more . . . animalistic behaviors without noticing. Hissing when threatened. Growling when angry. Dropping into a crouched position when scared or curious. That one, in particular, was especially embarrassing.

But there’d been a new instinctive behavior that was particularly unnerving. At least he thought it was instincts. He’d zone out at strange times, and often awoke to find himself standing in the kitchen, staring out the side door in the middle of the night. He would have no recollection of how he got there, or what he’d been doing, but he felt . . . uneasy. Like his adrenaline—did Darks even have adrenaline??--had been pumping, preparing him for fight or flight.

Again. Unnerving.

Eclipse hadn’t been much help, when asked about it.

“I was created with all the best parts of Black Arms,” he’d said with a shrug, scrambled eggs tumbling out of his mouth. “I’m not like any of the other types. So, you’re not either. I dunno why you’re doing that. Maybe it’ll happen to me when I get older!”

Wade had sighed at that, while Callie had reminded her younger son that food works better when it’s in your mouth, not your lap.

At first these nighttime trips only happened every now and then, but lately they’ve been increasing in frequency. It bothered Wade, and he felt his chest tighten every night as the sun went down. Tonight it was especially bad, and he massaged his chest plate in a vain effort to loosen the knot. He paced the bedroom floor, claws digging into the carpeting.

“Go have a beer,” Callie suggested, brushing out her long red hair. “I know it doesn’t really hit you like it used to, but maybe it’ll help?”

Wade sighed, flopping onto his belly on the bed. “Doesn’t taste the same.”

“Warm milk?”

“Gives me gas.”

“Ugh, that’s definitely out, then.” She twisted her mouth to the side, chewing her cheek as she thought. “How about just a nice hot shower? Those always help me relax.”

He groaned in response. Hot showers were nice, but it just didn’t appeal to him tonight.

“Well then be anxious and miserable,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t hear you coming up with anything.”

Wade rolled his head to the side and shot her an annoyed look, barely suppressing the urge to hiss at her. He’d done that exactly once after he’d changed. Callie didn’t take too kindly to it, and he’d been much more careful since then.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him. She put her brush in the bathroom and walked back toward the bed. “I’d help you if I could, but you’re not giving me much to go on. I can’t fix ‘feeling off’. You gotta toss me a bone, Bear.”

A frustrated grunt this time, and Wade rolled over to his back. “I don’t know! I don’t know how to explain it! I just feel . . . off. Like . . . antsy. Like there’s something I’m supposed to be doing, but don’t know what. Like that.”

Callie nodded, sliding onto the bed. She tucked her legs beneath her and leaned over him, an arm extended to keep her upright. He lifted his head automatically to lay on her bent knee, gazing up at her with his gold-on-black eyes.

“Okay, let’s take this one step at a time,” she said, and his tail moved to lazily curl around her wrist. “I don’t think there’s anything on your honey-do list, right?” He shook his head. “And the boys would be talking non-stop about it if you promised them something. No one’s birthdays are coming up. I’m not aware of any get-togethers with the Wachowskis.” She furrowed her brow as she thought. “Hmmm.”

He watched as she thought, a small smile curling his lips. Her eyes were unfocused, staring at the bedspread beneath them, her mouth still twisted as she worked her cheek. He never told her, but he’d always thought it cute when she did that.

“Well,” she said, her face clearing as she looked down at him. “Barring anything I don’t know about, maybe this is some kinda sixth sense thing.”

He furrowed his brow ridge. “You mean like . . . like ghosts?”

She gave him a look. “What? No. Well. I mean, I guess that could be an explanation, but I’m thinking like how sometimes dogs and cats can sense bad weather or earthquakes or something.”

“You think we’re gonna have an earthquake. In Montana.”

“I’m spitballing here, Wade,” she said, casting him a cocked eyebrow. “Interpreting hidden Dark instincts isn’t exactly my expertise.”

She made to move, but his tail tightened around her wrist, keeping her in place. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!” he said, gripping the arm tented over him. “I just . . .” He sighed. “This feeling is getting worse and I don’t know what it is. It’s freaking me out.”

“I know, hon,” she said, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “I wish I could do more for you, I really do. But this may just be something you’re gonna have to figure out on your own.”

Wade blew out a long sigh. “Great.”

~X~X~X~

Later that night, the Dark that used to be human sat up in bed. Its eyes reflected green in the low light, and it looked to its left, where another form lay. It sniffed the hair, receiving a small sound in return as the being rolled over. A word formed in the Dark’s mind—MATE—and it gave a small huff through its nose before slipping out of bed.

The Dark stalked through the house, sniffing under doors, identifying two other beings with the word HATCHLINGS—although that didn’t seem quite right but it got the idea across—and uttering a small grunt in greeting at the two animals at the bottom of the stairs (the resident cats were used to these nightly journeys, and barely batted an eye), before moving toward the glass kitchen door. It stopped there, pushing itself up to stand on two feet.

And it watched.

Even through the barrier it could smell . . . something. Danger. Intruder. THREAT.

The smell had come and gone, grown in strength and then faded for weeks. Tonight it was strongest. The Dark smelled blood. Fear.

With a growl, it threw itself into the glass, shattering the door and sprinting off in pursuit of the thing that drew this instinct to the fore. To meet and destroy the THREAT.

~X~X~X~

A loud shattering sound shocked Callie out of a deep sleep, and she looked to her right to find Wade missing. She flung the covers back, slipping into her house shoes as she made for the hall.

Doors opened, and Silver and Eclipse poked their heads out of their rooms.

“Wha?” Silver said, rubbing his eyes with a fist. His current favorite plush, Applejack from My Little Pony, was tucked into his elbow.

Eclipse yawned. “Whawazzat?” The neck of his favorite plush, a googly-eyed ostrich dog toy he named Dorothy for whatever reason, hung from his fist.

“I don’t know,” Callie said, and pointed at the boys. “Stay here.”

She hurried downstairs and found her kitchen door shattered. Fear gripped her for a moment—did someone break in??--when she noticed something green shining on some of the jagged glass. A closer inspection confirmed her guess.

It was the blood of a Dark.

Wade’s nighttime ritual had just added a new complication.

“Great,” she muttered to herself.

Callie gathered up her cats and headed upstairs. Looks like they’d have to stay in the bedroom until she could cover this door.

And she had a wayward lizard boyfriend to find before he got himself into too much trouble.

~X~X~X~

“I’m so sorry to bother you this late, guys,” Callie said as she lead her sleepy boys into the Wachowski house. Silver was sleeping against her chest, while Eclipse hung off her arm. “I just didn’t know what else to do, and--”

“Cal, don’t worry about it,” Maddie said, taking Silver from the redhead and cuddling the boy to her. ��I’ll keep your boys safe.”

“Thank you.” Callie tucked Eclipse onto the couch, just as Tom came downstairs, shrugging on his jacket.

“I checked with the station and they said Carl had just called in about weird noises in the woods around his house,” the sheriff said, as he headed toward the door.

Callie rolled her head back. “Ugh! Of course he’d go over to Carl’s!” She uttered an annoyed grunt. “He’s gonna get his fool head blown off.”

“I called Carl myself and told him that it may be Wade and to not shoot until we got there,” Tom said, pulling his shoes on. “Although you know Carl.”

“Yeah, I know Carl,” Callie said, heading toward the door.

A few pairs of footsteps came down the stairs, one pair heavy, the other fast. Sonic and Knuckles hurried into the room, woken by the unusual action down there.

“What’s going on?” Sonic asked with a yawn. He looked like he was still half asleep.

“Nothing, go back to bed,” Maddie said, shooing her boys back upstairs.

“Why are the MacPherson’s here?” Knuckles asked, looking much more awake than his brother. “Has something happened?”

“Boyfriend troubles,” Tom said, giving Maddie a kiss as he and Callie headed for the front door.

“Has Wade done something?” the echidna asked, his fists clenched. “Did he harm you?”

“No,” Callie said, one foot out the door. “He’s run off and I’m worried he’ll get hurt if we don’t find him.”

“Ah. Then I will come with you.”

“No, stay here,” she said, pulling the door shut. Knuckles zipped over and grabbed it before it could close completely, and Callie uttered a frustrated grunt. “Knux, we really gotta go!”

“Wade is a Black Arms now. You may need protection,” the boy said, bringing a fist to his chest. “I will come.”

“Hey, I wanna come too!” Sonic said, zipping over.

“No!” Callie snapped, just as Tom poked his head back in.

“We going or what?”

The redhead uttered another frustrated grunt before turning back to the boys. “Fine. Knuckles, you come, Sonic, you stay here and protect Silver and Eclipse. I don’t know what’s going through Wade’s mind right now, and if he comes here looking for them, I need someone to keep him busy until we get back. Got it?”

The hedgehog snapped to attention and threw her a two fingered salute. “Yes ma’am!”

“Great, let’s go!”

~X~X~X~

Callie, Tom, and Knuckles pulled onto the gravel road leading to Carl’s trailer at a little after 2am. The librarian and echidna watched out the windows, trying to catch sight of anything that may indicate Wade’s location. Only dark trees stared back at them.

As Tom pulled the pickup in near the battered trailer Carl called home, the trio found the homeowner standing right outside his door with a shotgun in his hand. Two large spotlights were hung off the front and back of the mobile home, trained into the dark woods to their right.

“Sheriff,” Carl nodded in greeting as the three approached him. “Miz Callie. Knuckles.”

“Carl, I thought I told you no shooting,” Tom said, stopping with his arms crossed.

The older man shook his head. “Ain’t let loose a single shell, Sheriff. But that don’t mean I should stand around defenseless. Somethin’s out there.” He nodded toward the trees.

“Did you see anything?” Callie asked, and she tried to keep the fear out of her voice. It kind of worked.

Carl shook his head. “No ma’am. Didn’t see any sign o’ yer man. But I been hearin’ a bunch of sounds.”

“What kind of sounds?”

Carl pursed his lips in thought. “Shufflin’, like somethin’ big lumberin’ through the trees. Growlin’. An’ heard something like a deer get taken down.”

Tom and Callie exchanged a glance, before they turned toward the trees. There were no sounds coming now, but that just added to the eerie feeling. There should have at least been normal nighttime animal sounds—owls, and crickets and the like. But there was nothing.

That was never a good sign.

“Well,” Carl said, looking between the sheriff and librarian. “You gotta plan?”

The two exchanged another glance.

“I guess I should go in and look for him,” Callie said, and Tom and Knuckles both turned to her in alarm.

“Are you nuts?” the sheriff asked.

“I will not allow it!” Knuckles added.

Callie blinked, and one eyebrow shot up. “Excuse me?” She turned to Knuckles. “Allow it? Who are you, my father?” Turned to Tom. “Wade won’t hurt me. I’m sure of it. I’ll go in, calm him down, and then we can all go back home and be a little less sleep deprived when the alarms go off in about four hours.”

“Look,” Tom said, moving closer to her. “I get the whole power of love angle, and admit I don’t really understand this Dark thing with Wade, but come on. It’s pitch black in there, and it might not be Wade anyway. Could be a bear or rabid coyote or something. You shouldn’t go in there.”

“Well, what’s your plan?” she asked, hands on hips. “Sit here and wait until morning? See if he comes to his senses and wanders out on his own? What are we doing here if we aren’t going to actually look for him?”

“We will look,” Tom said, holding his hands up slightly as a calming gesture. “But running off into the woods willy-nilly isn’t exactly a plan. Best case scenario you’ll get lost, worst case scenario you’ll get hurt. We need to be careful about this so everyone goes home in one piece.”

Callie uttered a sharp sigh and crossed her arms. She hated to admit it, but Tom had a point. “All right. So what do we--”

“Quiet,” Knuckles said, his voice low. He looked toward the trees, quills bristling in alarm. “We are being watched.”

The echidna’s stance widened, and he positioned himself between the trees and Callie. Tom also moved closer to the librarian, pulling his service pistol from his holster. Carl cocked his shotgun, pointing the business end toward the dark forest.

The silence dragged on.

“Okay, big guy,” Tom said, his voice quiet. “Can you tell what’s out there?”

Knuckles lowered his head slightly, his fists tightening. “Something big.”

Movement to the right, and a pair of eyes flashed in the darkness. Green reflective light. Like a cat.

Or a Dark.

“Wade?” Callie called, and the eyes disappeared, moving quickly, deeper into the trees. “Wade!”

She was moving before she even realized it, running after him in the dark. Voices called after her, but she ignored them. If she could get to Wade, she could talk him down, and they could go home. Bing, bang, boom.

Which would have worked, had it not been pitch black, and had she not run into a tree. With her face.

“Ow,” she whined, touching her battered nose. Her fingers came away wet and sticky and she blew a sigh through her lips. “Perfect.” At least she hadn’t shattered her glasses. Small miracles.

“Callie!” a voice called out to her immediate left and she yelped, jerking away. Recognition clicked into place and she stopped, brow furrowed. “Knuckles?”

A light clicked on and the echidna stood with a small flashlight, his face full of worry. “Are you--” He gasped. “You are injured!”

She waved a hand. “It probably looks worse than it is,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Father sent me in to bring you back,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “Come. I will get you to safety.”

“Knux, I’m fine,” she said, pulling her hand back. Or tried to, at least. The kid was strong, and came up to nearly her shoulders. He had her hand in an iron grip. “Seriously, kiddo, it’s just a little bloody nose.”

He pulled his lips tight. “You’re coming where it is safe and I can protect you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do not make me carry you.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “Is that a threat?”

“A promise. Now come.”

“Knuckles Echidna Wachowski, let go of my hand right now,” she said, digging her feet in to give a good tug. His grip didn’t budge. “Leggo echidna!”

“You are in danger!” he snarled back. “I just want to keep you safe!”

“The only danger here is you losing your status as ‘Favorite Wachowski Boy’! Lemme go!”

He gasped. “That is hurtful.”

“Oh, like it would ever happen, Knux,” Callie sighed. “Look, you don’t have to--”

“Quiet!”

He suddenly released her and moved closer, his eyes scanning the trees around them. His quills bristled again, and Callie could feel the hair on the nape of her neck doing the same.

Something was here. Growling at them.

Callie stood straighter, straining her eyes to see through the black trees. The only light they had to see by was the little flashlight Knuckles had dropped to the ground behind them. The echidna circled her, keeping her at his back while he tried to determine the source of the danger.

The growling grew louder, and suddenly something leapt out of the trees to their right. It hit Knuckles, knocking him aside like a ragdoll. The boy uttered a surprised grunt when he hit a tree, and growled as he regained his footing.

“Not bad,” he said, lips curled in a sneer. “But that will be the only blow you land.”

His opponent moved through the darkness, trying to circle around for another attack on the boy, but Knuckles was prepared this time and caught it with a solid punch first. The creature flew back, splintering trees as it collided with them from the force of the echidna’s blow.

Growling and hissing, the figure returned upright, and circled for another attack.

Knuckles moved back toward Callie, red sparks flashing across his quills and fists.

“Stay clear,” he told her, his now glowing eyes never leaving the moving target. “I do not wish to hurt you by accident.”

Now that there was a little more light to see by, Callie squinted at the oncoming enemy. It moved strangely, in a kind of ape-like movement, kind of on all fours, but not quite. It was coming straight for them, and there was a flash of green eye reflection. Callie gasped.

“STOP!” she yelled, moving in front of Knuckles. “It’s Wade!” The echidna looked at her in confusion, and she turned toward the still-approaching form. “Wade, stop! It’s me! It’s Callie!”

The Dark pivoted, digging its claws into the soft ground to stop its forward momentum. It stopped a few feet from Callie, breathing hard and dripping green blood from one of its slit nostrils. Its eyes flicked back and forth between her and Knuckles, and every time the Dark regarded the echidna, it bared its teeth.

“What is he doing? Why did he attack?” the boy asked, still hunched and ready for a fight.

Callie shook her head, watching Wade. “I dunno.”

When she’d shaken her head, the Dark’s eyes stared beneath her nose. She reached up and touched there, forgetting about the blood. On a hunch, she reached her bloody fingers out, and the Dark sniffed them before turning and growling at Knuckles. Understanding bloomed and Callie turned to the echidna.

“He thinks you hurt me.”

Knuckles’ eyes went wide. “I would never!”

“I know that, but Wade’s . . . not himself right now. I think he’s protecting me. He thinks you’re a threat.”

“Why would he come all the way out here if he wanted to protect you?”

Callie sighed. “I don’t know, Knux. I’m just guessing. But he only attacked when you grabbed me. It seems like a logical conclusion.”

The echidna seemed to consider this, before relaxing his stance. “Very well. What do we do?”

“I think you should head back to Carl’s. I’ll talk Wade down and we’ll be out as soon as we can.”

Knuckles raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to leave you here. Alone.”

“Knuckles. Please. I’ll be fine.”

The look on Knuckles’ face was clear as crystal. He really didn’t want to leave. But he finally gave her a little nod, before turning and walking back toward Carl’s trailer. After a few seconds, Callie turned to the Dark, who stood staring at her.

“Okay, the big, bad echidna’s gone,” she said, keeping her voice calm and soft. “It’s just you and me. Okay?” The Dark gave no sign it heard or understood. “Wade?”

Nothing. It stood still, its eyes flicking between hers and the blood drying beneath her nose. After a few seconds, it moved closer, sniffing.

“I’m okay, Wade, really. Just a side effect of my habit of running blindly into various situations, that’s all.”

The Dark didn’t respond, but continued to sniff her, rounding her to stand where Knuckles had stood a minute before. She turned to keep him facing him.

“Ookay,” she said, her eyes going to the blood on its muzzle. “That looks bad. Does it hurt?”

She reached forward, and the Dark blinked, unsure. Callie froze. After a second she crept her hand forward, delicately touching its hurt muzzle, and wiping away the blood. The Dark huffed through its nose, uttering a small grunt in the back of its throat at her touch.

“Where are you, Wade?” she said, her voice soft. “You better still be in there, or I’m gonna be pissed. Come back to me, Bear.”

The Dark suddenly curled its lip up in a snarl, a growl rumbling deep in its throat. Callie pulled her hand back.

“Bear?”

The Dark’s eyes flicked over her shoulder, and the growl grew in volume.

No. Wait.

A second growl had joined in.

Slowly, like a dream, like a nightmare, Callie turned. A massive dark shape lumbered behind her, and it hauled itself to its hind legs, uttering a deep-throated roar.

“Bear,” she whispered, all conscious thought consumed by sheer terror.

~X~X~X~

The Dark watched as the small THREAT retreated, leaving MATE behind. She turned, and sounds came from her mouth the Dark didn’t understand. The tone was familiar, though. Soothing. Safe. It moved forward to check her for additional injury. Nothing serious. That was good.

MATE shouldn’t be here. MATE should be at the dwelling, with the HATCHLINGS. It didn’t smell the HATCHLINGS here, so at least they were likely safe. But there was another THREAT nearby. A larger one. More dangerous. MATE needed to go. To be safe.

She made some more noises before reaching toward its face, and it blinked. An attack? No. She didn’t smell aggressive. It allowed her to continue, and when her hand touched its muzzle, a warmth spread where her fingers brushed. Its heart beat faster, and a contented grunt escaped its throat. MATE was gentle. Soft. The Dark was very fond of her.

A stench suddenly hit its nostrils, and it snarled. The THREAT it had been smelling for weeks was here. The THREAT that was dangerous. MATE held great fear for the THREAT. The Dark would kill the THREAT, so MATE could be safe.

The Dark moved between MATE and the THREAT, lip curled and growling the whole while. The THREAT reared up, making itself taller and more massive, but the Dark wasn’t impressed. It was about to launch itself at the THREAT, when another scent reached its sensitive nose.

Fear. MATE was afraid.

The Dark acted quickly. It turned and grabbed MATE and teleported with her back to the bright area, where the other HUMANS were. She had been there before. She wasn’t afraid then. She would be safe.

They appeared in a flash of light, and the Dark gently laid MATE on the ground. It ignored the noises from the other HUMANS, but the small THREAT was here too. No matter. There was a larger THREAT that needed tending.

The Dark sprinted back into the trees, using its nose to lead it back to the THREAT.

Without pause, the Dark launched itself, latching onto the THREAT’S back, slashing, biting, and clawing. The THREAT roared in response, twisting and slashing with its own claws to try and shake the Dark loose. It got a single slash onto the Dark’s leg, and the Dark roared in pain and anger.

The THREAT tossed the Dark aside, roaring in apparent victory.

Rage boiled inside the Dark, and it felt a surge of power flow through its body. Muscles tightened, and it felt a great swelling, stretching, growing. In a split second, it no longer had to look up at the THREAT. The Dark was an equal size.

A sneer crossed the Dark’s face that could have been mistaken for a grin. The THREAT stood no chance now.

The Monster Dark launched itself at the THREAT, roaring in its great fury.

~X~X~X~

Callie stood frozen, staring at this massive, huge, unbelievably gigantic bear. Her mouth went dry, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Everyone was afraid of something, and the librarian was no exception. She was positively, completely, and unwaveringly terrified of bears. They were big, they were strong, they were deadly. And she would have been very happy to go her entire life without seeing one face-to-face.

Looked like her “never seen a bear in real life before” streak had come to an end.

The massive thing roared, pulling itself to its hind legs and taking a step closer. Wade moved in front of her, growling in response.

She thought of her boys, and wished she’d hugged them before leaving the Wachowski’s, and told them she loved them. She was sure Tom and Maddie would take good care of them for her.

She’d just had time to wonder if the bear would start eating her with her face when Wade suddenly turned. He curled his arms tightly around her, and she felt the stomach churning sensation of teleporting. Suddenly she was out of the dark trees, and back in the brightly lit side yard of Carl’s trailer. She blinked rapidly, and found Wade beside her, giving her a concerned look before turning toward the others.

Tom, Knuckles, and Carl rushed toward her, and Wade spared another look back before sprinting back into the trees.

“No!” she cried, trying to regain her feet. “Wade, don’t!”

“What happened?” Tom asked, kneeling next to her. “Are you okay?”

“Did he harm you?” Knuckles asked, looking for all the world like he was about to rush back into the trees after Wade.

“I’m fine, there’s a bear in there!” she said, letting Tom help her back to her feet. “A big one. Huge one.”

As if to confirm, loud roaring and thrashing sounds floated out to them, and Callie plunged both hands into her hair.

“Oh my God,” she hissed. “He’s gonna get ripped to shreds.”

“Why did he come all the way out here to fight a freaking bear??” Tom cried.

“I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know! If he survives I’ll ask him.” It seemed to occur to her what she said and she grimaced. “Oh God.”

“I will assist him,” Knuckles said, and started toward the trees when both Tom and Callie grabbed an arm.

“No you won’t!” they cried in unison.

“But I--”

That’s as far as the boy got when a loud roar erupted from the dark trees, and then all went silent.

The three humans and young echidna stood in the yard, staring into the darkness. All they could do was wait.

~X~X~X~

The THREAT put up more of a fight than the Dark expected. Stronger, too. But no matter. This enhanced form would be more than enough to end things quickly.

The Monster Dark drove into the THREAT with a massive shoulder, pushing it into the nearby trees. The creature roared, swiping at the Dark with a large paw, and catching the Black Arms on its side. Green blood dripped to the forest floor.

The Dark retreated, circling around for another go. The THREAT roared, running straight for the Dark before falling on it, biting and clawing. The Dark held the massive paws away, and rolled back, lifting its legs and shoving its sharp foot claws into the creature’s belly, kicking and slashing. The THREAT gave a pained roar, pushing off to retreat and regroup.

The smell of blood was thick in the air, and the Dark huffed through its nose to clear the stench.

The THREAT growled again, but kept its distance. Its energy quickly waning, the Dark launched its final attack, and leapt at the THREAT, bringing its claws across its throat in one swift motion.

The THREAT opened its mouth, but no sound came out. Its head dropped, and the body slumped to the ground seconds later.

The Dark opened its mouth, voicing a loud roar of victory. The THREAT was gone.

Mission complete, the Dark turned and hobbled back toward the light area. It held a hand against its side, the slashes it received from the THREAT already clotting.

It moved slowly, its body shrinking, returning to normal. Its mind was beginning to cloud. All it could think was to get to MATE. MATE was safe. MATE would care for . . . him. His feet dragged through the forest floor, leg pounding with each step. Everything was sore.

Wade stepped through the trees, blinking in the bright spotlights of Carl’s yard. He just had time to register the shocked faces before him, before Callie hit him at a full run, locking her arms around him and crying his name. Then he knew nothing, as he passed out.

~X~X~X~

Wade Whipple, former human, opened his eyes. He lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in the house he shared with Callie.

Sounds came to him, and he recognized Silver and Eclipse shouting at each other in the backyard. He heard the squeak of the swings on their playset, and made a quick mental note to oil those before too long.

Water ran in the sink, and there was soft humming. He turned his head and immediately regretted it. Pain shot up his neck and he groaned. The water turned off, and footsteps came his way.

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” Callie said with a smile. She settled herself on the edge of the couch by his hip, facing him. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

Wade furrowed his brow ridge and opened his mouth to speak. A harsh croak came out, and he cleared his throat. His mouth felt like he’d been sucking on old socks.

“Oop, hang on a sec,” the redhead said, before rushing into the kitchen. The tap ran again, and she returned with a glass of water. “Bottom’s up.”

Wade drank it quickly, surprised at how thirsty he was. Once the glass was empty, he handed it back and wiped his muzzle with the back of a hand. “Thanks.”

“Ah, and he speaks, too. How do you feel?”

“Tired.” A pause. “Beat up. What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head.

“None of it?”

Another shake.

“Well, my darling, you took down the largest grizzly Montana has ever seen.”

Wade’s stomach clenched. “I did?”

“You did,” Callie said, nodding. “You had one of your . . . episodes, and crashed through the kitchen door in the middle of the night to hunt the thing down. You were in rough shape after. Tom and Knuckles helped get you back here, and you’ve been unconscious for two days.” She crossed her arms, casting him a cocked eyebrow. “Now, care to tell me why you had a sudden urge to go bear hunting at one in the morning?”

He went quiet. If he really focused, he could remember bits and pieces of what happened. Dark trees. He thinks he and Knuckles may have . . . fought? But he didn’t have any memories of the bear itself. Just Callie. And an urge to . . .

“Protect,” he muttered.

“What?”

He blinked, looking back at her. “I . . . I was protecting you. I think.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I had that theory, too. But why would you go all the way to Carl’s to fight some monster of a bear to protect me? I was only out there because I was chasing after you.”

Wade sat up a little, wincing at his sore muscles. He remembered talking about that feeling, that new instinct. He remembered, vaguely, standing at the kitchen door. He remembered smelling something, and then a flash of realization hit him.

“You’re afraid of bears. I guess . . . that one was too close for comfort, and I wanted to get rid of it, so you wouldn’t be afraid.”

She sat staring at him for a long moment, her brows furrowed. “You could have been killed.”

He didn’t respond. It wasn’t like he had full control over himself. The instincts took over. He gave a helpless shrug.

“No, don’t shrug at me,” she said, and she sounded angry. No. Scared? “Don’t you dare shrug that off, Wade Whipple. You crashed through the door in the middle of the night to run off and fight a freaking grizzly the size of a bus, all for some convoluted idea of protecting me. That’s not a shruggable thing. Don’t do that.”

Wade pulled his shoulders up, this time in shame. “Sorry.”

She closed her eyes, and dropped her forehead into a hand with a tired sigh. After a long moment, she looked back up at him, her hand flipping her braid around to tug on it.

“I know it wasn’t your choice to run off like that,” she said, her voice soft. “I know instincts can override rational thought. I’m reminded of that every time you and Eclipse get into a hissing contest with that stray cat we see every now and then. But Wade . . . this was really scary. I thought . . .” She pulled her lips tight. “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

Wade sat up straighter, ignoring his protesting muscles, and reached for her hand. “I . . . I’m sorry. I’ll try to . . . ignore it or something next time.”

“No,” she said, but squeezed his hand. “You can’t ignore instincts. I . . .” She uttered a soft laugh. “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this. I just . . .” She paused, and a look passed over her face he didn’t often see. “You really scared me.”

Fear. She was really afraid. Had he scared her? Was she worried he would hurt her while in these . . . blackouts?

“Cal,” he said, sandwiching her hand between his. “I . . . you know I’d never hurt you.”

“No, Wade,” she said, placing her other hand on top of his. “I wasn’t scared of you, I was scared for you. You were a mess when you stumbled out of those trees. I honestly don’t know how you survived.”

A memory flashed then. Rage. Power. Growing.

Then it was gone.

He gave her a crooked smile. “Maybe I’m tougher than we thought?”

A look passed over her face then, like a cloud passing in front of the sun. Then it was gone, and her usual confident, somewhat snarky look was back.

“Well, I hope so,” she said, and he thought her voice sounded a little too nonchalant. A little too light. “Because you took down a monster of a bear. Oh, and if you’re gonna be doing this kinda stuff all the time, I don’t want to chase you down in the middle of the night again. Try to schedule these little excursions between regular business hours, okay?”

She dropped a little wink and made to leave, but Wade wouldn’t let go of her hands. She dropped back down to the couch, a look of mild surprise on her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft. He gave her hands a squeeze, his tail snaking out to wrap around her ankle. “I’m really sorry I scared you. I . . . I don’t know what happened, but I don’t want to see that look on your face anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll . . . I’ll try harder to control it.”

Callie looked at him for a few seconds more, before a smile appeared. A real one this time. “No one said being in a relationship with a Dark would be easy,” she said with a shrug. “Gotta take the bad times with the good, right? The occasional instinct fueled middle-of-the-night chase just keeps things interesting, yeah?”

He searched her face for a long moment, trying to determine if she was being genuine. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her. She had gotten really good at faking ‘being fine’ over her lifetime.

“Really?” he finally asked, eyes slightly narrowed. It was always better to ask, as he hoped she wouldn’t lie to him. “This is ‘Honest Cal’, and not ‘I’m Fine Cal’?”

Another smile, and she nodded. “Honest Cal. I don’t know how many more of these instincts will crop up, but . . .” She sighed. “I’ll be here to help you through them. If I can. We’ll see if we can’t try to . . . I dunno, hone your ability to identify them before they go all sleepwalker mode on you. Or something.”

Wade’s mouth pulled into another crooked smile. “You really wanna stay with me? Really?”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Wade. If I can put up with those nasty sausages you love so stinkin’ much, I can deal with some random instinct that may make you go a little feral now and then.”

He smiled, and reached forward to pull her into a hug. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know that,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. She heaved another sigh. “You keep things interesting Wade Whipple. I’ll give you that.”

“You love it. Because you love me. Right?”

“Some days, against my better judgment.” She pulled back, a smile on her lips. “But yes.” She cupped his muzzle and pulled him to her, planting a kiss on his forehead. “But if you ever scare me like you did the other night, I’ll skin you myself and make a couch out of you. Get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” Callie stood, heading toward the kitchen. “Hungry?”

“God, yes.” Wade pushed himself off the couch, hobbling after her. He was still pretty sore. “I’m so hungry, I could eat a bear.”

She had been pulling a pot of chili from the oven, and now slammed it onto the kitchen island. She looked unamused.

“I guess you could say, I have a bear of an appetite.”

A single eyebrow raised. “I’d think long and hard about the next words out of your mouth, Whipple.”

Wade pulled his lips tight. “I love you?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“A lot?”

Without breaking eye contact, she opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a serving spoon.

“You’ve narrowly avoided disaster, Dark. Grab a bowl and come fill your belly.”

Wade flashed her a fangy grin, and moved around the kitchen island to plant a kiss on her neck, before she batted him away with a little smile. He chuckled as he pulled down a bowl, and set to work on demolishing as much of that chili as she’d let him.

Being a Dark was sometimes scary. But with Callie by his side, Wade was sure he could deal with whatever this new body had in store.

~~~

Like this? Check out my other snippets. Reblogs are appreciated!

#my fics #my writing #darkling wade #callie macpherson #sonic fanfiction #wade whipple #eclipse the darkling #silver the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction

26 notes · View notes

warriorsfireandwater · 4 years ago

Text

Warriors Analysis 2: A Breakdown of the Crow/Night/Breeze Family Dynamic

I said I would do it, so here we are. The big doozy. For this one, I’m going to putting all of the sourced scenes in a linked google doc, because I just don’t want to make this post a million miles long. Instead, for this post, I will sum up all of the conclusions made after reviewing every scene involving the family from Po3 through OotS, with other relevant information from other books included.

Context of this one: I’ve watched (and participated in) a lot of debate over this family. Just about every single argument I’ve seen tends to:

1) rely on a person’s opinion of a character overall to how they feel about the family (”I found Nightcloud annoying” often goes along with “Nightcloud is equally bad of a parent” or “Breezepelt was a bad person so I don’t sympathize with him in the family situation”)

2) misremember canon

3) rely on a person’s headcanons of what actually happened to shape their judgement of the family (”Nightcloud spoiled Breezepelt and told him Crowfeather is bad” when there are zero canon scenes of this happening)

Some ground rules: I’m relying on breaking down the canon scenes in the books. I am NOT inserting my own thoughts or beliefs as to what happened behind the scenes. If there’s anything bordering on that (”this behavior implies X”), it’ll be clearly stated that it’s an interpretation. I ask that if you want to comment or debate this analysis that you do the same. People’s headcanons shaping how they remember the family is the thing that frustrated me enough to spend hours digging this up. As a personal request, please don’t use this post to say “Nightcloud still sucks and I hate her”/”Breezepelt still sucks and I hate him”/”neglect isn’t abuse” - the latter is definitively incorrect and is upsetting to hear as a survivor of abuse. “X character still is bad” just takes away from the point of this - which is not to say “Breezepelt is a good person”, but PURELY to breakdown the family dynamic. With that out of the way, let’s GO:

After looking at literally every scene involving Breezepelt, Crowfeather, and Nightcloud and analyzing the ones that involve or mention them as a family, here’s some key points. The scenes that back these points up are included and detailed in this doc.

Breezepaw is introduced to us as a bit aggressive and rude, and his mentor, Whitetail, wishes to Crowfeather that she would teach him manners (earning her no response from him)

We first properly see Nightcloud during the dog attack in The Sight, when Breezepaw returns from checking the barrier. Breezepaw reports that there is no damage, and Crowfeather immediately questions if he actually checked all the way around. Breezepaw tells him “Of course!”, and Nightcloud says that Crowfeather should trust his son more.

This suggests Nightcloud is ready to defend Breezepaw whenever. However, as ThunderClan is leaving, Breezepaw mutters that WindClan can manage on their own. Nightcloud immediately scolds him and compliments Lionpaw for saving Heatherpaw during the battle.

Later, at the daylight Gathering, Lionpaw and Breezepaw are buried underground. Crowfeather and Nightcloud help dig them out, and Breezepaw is not breathing when he comes out. Jaypaw has to pull dirt out of his throat to save his life.

Leafpool says to Crowfeather that she would “give [her] last drop of blood to save [his kit]”. Nightcloud sharply retorts that “our kit was lucky that Jaypaw was here”.

Nightcloud carries Breezepaw away from the scene “like a kit”. Crowfeather offers to help, but she carries him on her own. She does not push him away/force him away/shout at him, she literally just chooses to carry him. Nightcloud spends the rest of the daylight Gathering curled around Lionpaw and Breezepaw and keeping them resting.

We learn these things from the Sight: Breezepaw and Crowfeather seem to have a tense relationship, but that isn’t fully developed. Nightcloud is willing to defend him from Crowfeather’s doubts, but notably does not defend him when he acts like a punk in front of her. She is bothered by Leafpool’s comment about giving her life for Breezepaw (which I personally find pretty reasonable to be bothered by), but counters by giving her gratitude to Jaypaw. She wants to carry Breezepaw after he nearly dies, but isn’t pushing Crowfeather away or denying him anything like many people claim.

In Dark River, Crowfeather encourages Breezepaw’s bias against ThunderClan, telling him that they “celebrate mixed blood” in a tone that implies it as a negative thing. (It seems implied he does this to get to Leafpool, who is upset by his comment.)

Jaypaw is able to feel Nightcloud’s jealous emotions on a few occasions, but she actually never says anything to Leafpool or Crowfeather about it.

In Outcast, Crowfeather is called to go on the journey to the Tribe. Onestar tells him to take Breezepaw, who has gotten in trouble a few times. Breezepaw makes it very plain he doesn’t want to go and worries that his Clanmates are just trying to get rid of him. Crowfeather wants to go, but “sighs” over the idea of taking Breezepaw. To me, he comes off as disinterested and possibly disappointed that he has to bring him. Crowfeather snaps at Breezepaw for asking to say goodbye to his friends, saying “There isn’t time!” even though literally no one is rushing them to leave. Nightcloud comes to say goodbye, but Crowfeather is distant and doesn’t respond to her.

Throughout Outcast, each POV character has at least one (if not many) moments where they think about Crowfeather/Breezepaw and feel pity for Breezepaw, despite really hating him. Hollypaw especially thinks often about how she appreciates Brambleclaw for encouraging and supporting her, and the apprentices all seem to realize that Breezepaw is angry because his father “doesnt seem to like him”.

When questioning why they have to help the tribe, Crowfeather just tells Breezepaw “You’ll never understand loyalty.”

When they run into Purdy, Breezepaw is pretty rude to him. Crowfeather doesn’t interrupt a single time throughout multiple insults, then reacts by hitting him across the ear without saying anything, which is noted as “a hard blow”.

Breezepaw nearly dies falling off into a ravine after thinking he’s discovered a faster way. Crowfeather pulls him back and snaps at him, expressing no concern for his life. In Eclipse, Crowfeather pointedly does not compliment Breezepaw’s catch of the rabbit, which angers Breezepaw.

During the reveal of Leaf/Crow in the last book, Breezepelt and Nightcloud stand by Crow’s side and don’t publicly turn on him or say anything against him.

This journey gives us a lot of insight into Crow and Breeze’s dynamic. Breezepaw is pretty obviously a little punk throughout this book, but Crowfeather has no healthy way of communicating with him or discipling him. Instead, he snaps at him, hits him, or ignores him, all of which just feeds into Breezepaw’s anger. Nightcloud is not present for any of this and has no way of controlling their interactions here, which could have been a perfect opportunity for Crowfeather to build a relationship with his son if it were true that Night had prevented this.

Breezepelt shows up in Fading Echoes, training in the Dark forest. A few things are made explicit: he is being manipulated by the Dark Forest and Tigerstar’s words have an almost hypnotic effect on him. The cats present egg him on against Crowfeather, feeding into his belief that Crow does not value him. (Side note, I find it really interesting that in this book, Breezepelt has notable value in the warrior code [which encourages his hate towards Crow] and the DF cats encourage this, saying it is “strong” in his blood. Next time we see him, though, he wants to destroy it.)

Flametail randomly thinks about Breezepelt’s family while spending time with Tawnypelt, feeling glad he has nicer kin.

We get the infamous scene where Lion and Breeze fight. Breeze and Crow were both trespassing on ThunderClan territory and Lion caught the prey Breezepelt was about to catch. He intentionally eggs Breezepelt into a fight (rather than just attacking him himself). Leafpool interrupts, asking how Crow can watch this. Nightcloud then shows up and insists Crowfeather has only one son. Leafpool jumps in between them as Breezepelt is leaping for Lionblaze, and she gets clawed. Crowfeather hauls him off and throws him aside, then keeps talking to Leafpool, who tells him she loved him.

Nightcloud then comes over and pulls Crowfeather away from Leafpool. She sinks her claws into his pelt to do this. However, it’s worth noting that this scene contains MANY references to blood every time claws come out - she does not draw blood and he does not express any signal of pain. It’s likely she used her claws only as a means of holding onto him, not to cause him harm. Crowfeather turns on him, and Breezepelt wails before getting between them, telling Crowfeather to leave his mother alone.

Nightcloud doesn’t react rationally in this scene - but neither does any character. Lionblaze is an ass, Breezepelt is an ass, Crowfeather is an ass, and Leafpool is still walking around making declarations of her former love in front of Crowfeather’s wife.

Nightcloud is one of the cats to react rudely to Hollyleaf’s return, but she doesn’t directly attack/challenge her. (This is actually the last time we see Nightcloud.)

The final meaningful scene is in The Last Hope, when Breezepelt fights Lionblaze. Crowfeather intervenes and says he will not allow Breezepelt to hurt him. Breezepelt retorts he always knew Crowfeather hated him, which Crow denies.

“I never hated you!” Crowfeather growled. “That’s just what you were determined to believe. And Nightcloud encouraged you.”

“It’s not her fault!” Breezepelt spat.

“No,” Crowfeather hissed. “I should have done something much earlier...”

This is the first and only time this is blamed on Nightcloud. This is the only indication we have that this could be true.

Some other notable things:

Crowfeather took Nightcloud as a mate to prove his loyalty, not out of love. (This is said in After Sunset: We need to talk)

The Ultimate Guide also confirms the above, but is a questionable source given the many errors included in it. It states that Crowfeather resents Nightcloud (for not being Leafpool), and that Nightcloud coddled Breezepelt. However, the latter is never shown in the story (and the opposite is actually shown when she scolds him).

In Crowfeather’s Trial, Crowfeather is pushed to recognize his anger towards his son and apologize for his behavior towards him and Nightcloud. Even in an entire book from Crow’s perspective (which provides opportunity for memories, flashbacks, etc), there is no indication that Nightcloud actually pushed Breezepelt to hate Crowfeather. There’s a throwaway mention that Crowfeather was too strict or too rough with Breezepelt as a kit, but it’s never actually said that Nightcloud told him this/kept him away/etc. (IE: it’s impossible to say if Nightcloud screamed this at him or asked him once to be gentle. We just don’t know!)

With all this said, here’s my take on the dynamic:

Crowfeather was a neglectful father and an inconsiderate mate. The only scene we get where he seems to actually get along with Breezepaw is when he is encouraging him to dislike ThunderClan by feeding into hatred for “mixed blood” cats. In all other scenes, he: 1) ignores his bad behavior, 2) is unnecessarily harsh to him or dismissive of him, 3) questions and undermines him, 4) does not have healthy ways of addressing his poor behavior (IE, he ignores and turns away from him rather than discussing it when all the apprentices are in trouble and the other warriors are scolding them, he flat-out hits Breezepaw at one point after saying nothing to intervene in his rudeness), and 5) blames Nightcloud for their bad relationship. Crowfeather is provided plenty of opportunities to interact with Breezepaw while Nightcloud isn’t present (in fact, Nightcloud shows up very little - most scenes of the family have just Breeze and Crow, there are many books where Nightcloud isn’t even mentioned).

Nightcloud was literally just being a normal mom and was often pushed to feeling jealous around Leafpool, often because Leafpool doesn’t have any boundaries around hinting about loving Crowfeather for some reason. I was actually really shocked by how... absolutely fuckin brazen Leafpool is 24/7 about waltzing up to Crowfeather while his wife is standing right there and going “just so you know......... i miss you........... i’d give my life for you......” It’s just WEIRD. IMO, it’s pretty damn reasonable for that to make Nightcloud irritated! Most of the time, she never actually voices her jealousy, we just know about it because of Jaypaw’s ability. When she does, it’s sometimes done by complimenting someone else or giving credit to another cat, like when Jaypaw saves Breezepaw. There is zero text in the story supporting the idea that Nightcloud was overbearing or that she spoiled him: we have TWO SCENES where she has character moments around this. In the first, she is defending him from Crowfeather’s doubt, and in the second, she is scolding him for being ungrateful to ThunderClan for their help.

Breezepelt was a kid that grew up feeling unloved, unappreciated, and angry and resentful as a result. The Dark Forest, not Nightcloud, fed into this belief, but we also have a whole lot of scenes that show why that feeling of resentment towards Crowfeather is there to begin with.

The final hot take: If you believe Nightcloud ‘spoiled’ Breezepelt or that she was ‘overbearing and possessive’, you need to reread Po3 and OotS. It’s just not there.

(Bonus: I love Leafpool but god, girl, you need to read a room.)

#warrior cats #warrior cats analysis #crowfeather #breezepelt #nightcloud

650 notes · View notes

neonoddeye · 3 years ago

Text

Assigning each Loona member with an anime, Part 1

Hello, long time no see! Since LООПΔ is giving us a comeback (and I adore them), I thought I’d return with something for them :)

DISCLAIMER: These are only anime that I’ve seen, so if you think an anime fits a member better than the one I chose, let me know!

Heejin- Cowboy Bebop

Like the quote below suggests, she’s a strong woman that’s kicked ass the longest in the group! I felt like an action anime would fit Heejin well, and Cowboy Bebop is regarded often as one of the greatest in that genre. It’s had a huge influence in pop culture internationally, and can visually be recognized easily, just like our beautiful center!

Hyunjin- The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

I promise I’m not just giving one of my top 3 anime to my bias lol. Simply, the humor in Saiki K fits her so well. What I love most about Hyunjin is her unique and charming personality; I love the same things about this anime. I don’t watch comedy anime often, but I absolutely fell in love with this one, and I always find myself going back to it. Also, Hyunjin probably has a glow IRL like Teruhashi does bc she’s gorgeous.

Haseul- Your Name

First off, imagine how well “Let me in” would fit into this movie. Like omg, what a beautiful solo with a beautiful anime. Anyway, Haseul deserves a strong, stunning, incredible movie like Your Name. She’s a fantastic leader who has gone through a lot in her career, and has to carry a huge group on her shoulders. This anime is gorgeous yet devastating, set the bar HIGH for romance movies (in my opinion), and made a large impact on many people. Haseul is insanely important to loona as a group, and we don’t know what we’d do without her.

Yeojin- Hunter x Hunter

I am so dead set on this one, no one can convince me otherwise. It’s just perfect for our fun-loving and talented maknae! One thing that really drove me to pick this one was that, like Yeojin, Gon and Killua clearly mature and grow throughout Hunter x Hunter. Given that she’s the youngest member, we’ve gotten to see her turn into a beautiful young woman who never fails to impress me when she’s on stage (like honestly, she’s so underrated come on). Similarly, the main characters in this anime are constantly growing and learning and have been through way too much as children kinda like how Yeojin lost her childhood.

ViVi- Wonder Egg Priority

This anime deserved better. You know who else deserves better? WONG KAHEI FROM LOONA!!! I cannot think about Wonder Egg Priority without remembering its god awful ending, just like how I constantly think about my BIAS NOT GETTING ANY SCREEN TIME OR LINES!!! “Jokes” aside, the little we got from WEP was visually stunning, tragic, and incredible. On top of that, the main girls have it ROUGH; like, this anime is genus only hard to watch sometimes. Need I remind y’all that Vivi arguably had the hardest training period, having released a full Korean solo while STILL LEARNING KOREAN? No one is doing it like her.

Kim Lip- Demon Slayer

I will not lie, Kim Lip was the hardest to give an anime to. I tossed Demon Slayer around to a few members, but I chose it for her due to the impact that both have. I think a lot of orbits can agree with me that Kim Lip single-handedly helped the group rise to fame. A song with NASA? The phrase “Loona is for the gays” coming from Eclipse? Of course I’m giving her one of the most popular anime of our time. Eclipse fancams were as common on Twitter as Nezuko cosplays are at anime conventions. She’s an ace, she’s a great leader (don’t forget how her and Yves stepped up when Haseul was out), and she has a unique and infectious personality! Thank you for your service, Kim Lip.

Sorry for making it a 2-parter, but I wanted 2 pictures for each member, and Tumblr wouldn’t let me :(

7 notes · View notes

astrolovecosmos · 5 years ago

Text

The Nodes

The Nodes are most known for their association with karma and past lives. The Nodes connection to life purpose has been a popular translation too. However for those who do not believe in past lives this presents them with an area in astrology that they may cast aside and ignore. While the Nodes do have plenty of spiritual and abstract connections they also have more practical associations that don’t have to fit into a metaphysical realm. Let’s take a look at all the different ways the Nodes can be looked at.

What Exactly are the Nodes?

“The North and South Nodes indicate points in the zodiac where the plane of the Moon’s orbit intersects the plane of the ecliptic (a great circle on the celestial sphere representing the sun's apparent path during the year, so called because lunar and solar eclipses can occur only when the moon crosses it).” - Deborah Houlding. Because of this the Nodes can seem very abstract. They aren’t planets like Venus, Sun, or in astrology, the Moon. The North and South Node are opposite points in space. The Nodes move slowly backwards through the zodiac signs, as the Moon makes its journey around the earth, crossing the annual path of the Sun. The intersection points are the nodes.

Karma and Past Lives

“The North Node, the life path. The North Node is what must be done to fulfil the soul’s purpose. It is the life path, destiny or dharma. The South Node is the gateway to the past. The South Node symbolizes all that has gone before.” - Judy Hall. When talking about Karma or past lives I can’t skip over “The Moon Dragon”, to read more about this myth and its connection to the Nodes visit astro.com. For those who do not prescribe to beliefs about karma or past lives I suggest taking in this same information and applying it to earlier life and later life or connecting it back to life purpose. Another way to look at this is within some definitions of “shadow work”. Take this first part of the article I linked to for example:

“The engagement with the dragon is an allegory for the times in the individuation process when we wrestle with unsavory sides of the self, parts that we deny or keep secret but that have an uncanny knack for showing up anyway. Jungians call it the shadow, the Freudians’ nickname is the id; no matter what we call it, we prefer it to be unnamed. Whatever its name, the dragon struggle is a psychological truth and one that the ancients continuously scripted into their mythic epics.”

The South Node can be viewed as bad habits and challenges to leave behind without having to dig into a past life puzzle. The North Node can be looked at as opportunities to expand, discover, improve, and learn within one’s life.

Comfort Zone and The Unknown

Beyond life purpose and karmic lessons are other associations with the Nodes. The North Node can be looked at as places within yourself and within your life that are unknown and outside your comfort zone. The South Node can be viewed as what you are used to, your comfort zone, your programming. The South Node can actually show initial strengths - positive or strengths that we are comfortable with. It can show survival and habits. BUT there are plenty of flaws and weaknesses that we can easily get stuck in and find hard to change or move beyond that are connected to the South Node. The South Node can be about stagnation and what does not serve us. In most metaphors whether highly abstract and spiritual or practical and tangible - the South Node is looked at as a place to move away from. But the South Node is not bad. And at some points in life we may retreat to the comforts of the South Node to heal or to learn.

The North Node can indicate potential, strengths that one must learn and practice, it represents a journey forward, evolving or enlightenment, growth but also fear, anxiety, and discomfort that must be faced to grow.

Decisions and Direction

“The Hubers describe the North Node as being rather like a compass needle in its ability to find the right way to improve our character. If we are going through periods of confusion in life, the Node and its House positioning give the direction of the way ahead. In a sense, the meaning of the occupied House is the meaning of the Node, and this House will usually provide the right source of the next step that is important for this individual.” - The Cosmic Egg Timer

While this ties back into life purpose, it is important to remember that “purpose” is all about what decisions we make and the direction we take. The Nodes can provide guidance on this and in a way fit into predictive astrology. The Nodes can also give clues to challenges one may face in life towards breaking out of their comfort zone and challenges about growth towards success and fulfillment. It shows what decisions you may make because of your initial reaction to things and decisions that might be hard for you to make because they are unfamiliar.

It’s About the Journey

I’ve noticed many people approach the North Node with grandioseness and many times forget about the South Node altogether. They work off each other and can only exist if the other does. While one’s life purpose should be grand to you personally whether it be to help others or maybe to learn how to deal with change, but I think many are looking for something very concrete and specific and sometimes I’ve noticed many people approach the North Node with their ego or as if it is meant to show an area of self importance in the world.

And YOU ARE IMPORTANT! But be careful of letting the ego take control because the Nodes ARE NOT where the ego hangs out, at least in terms of the negative side of our ego like selfishness and arrogance.

While the North Node can give you themes and clues about your “purpose” know that life is not always linear and even in older text or when many well-established astrologers talk about the Nodes it is referenced as a cycle or that it is all about the journey of growth rather than where that growth takes you.

#north node #south node #nodes #the moons nodes #true node #mean mode #astrology #zodiac #the nodes #karma #past lives #comfort zone

267 notes · View notes

the-era-of-shadow · 3 years ago

Text

Inner Connection

Written by Ash Rose Cover Art by Ash Rose

THIS STORY CONTAINS: Swearing, depiction of suicidal thoughts, light talk of sex

(OG ver) Original publish date:

(Amino) October 20th 2020

(Fanfiction.net) February 17th 2021

(Rewrite) Original publish date:

(Amino & AO3) May 28th 2021

When Rouge and her passengers arrived in Station Square, the sky already was dark, illuminated by the waning moon, and the few stars that were able to be seen amongst the street lights.

“9:30pm already? You better have a good reason to be here…” Rouge groaned.

“Oh... some things really don’t change, do they?” Shadow thought, both relieved and annoyed by Rouge’s lack of change in her personality in the two years since they last saw each other.

“Yea, I’m aware… But I need some help safely retrieving something from a storage unit around here…” Shadow explained.

"Oh my~! How mysterious!" Rouge teased, making Shadow pout.

“Awwwwww! They’re so cuuuuute!!” Black Widow suddenly said. "Garrick's such a great friend!" She added, making it clear that she was talking about how Garrick was curled around Eclipse's sleeping Dark Arms.

"I'm glad to see them bond… To see my sweethearts be accepted as if they were full blooded Black Arms… Oh it makes me so happy…" Eclipse said.

"Oh yeah, they're hybrids, aren't they?" Widow asked Eclipse.

"Indeed. They started as wisp eggs, but I modified them with Black Arms genetics!" They explained.

"Ah! I've always wondered what the Dark Arms were! But if I may ask another question… What's a wisp, anyway?"

"Oh--! I can answer that for you, Widow!" Relic said excitedly. "Wisps are a species of small but powerful creatures that are not native to our dimension! They come from the Will Dimension! I've never been there myself, I haven't been to any of the other dimensions, I simply don't have the power to, but maybe one day I'll find some sort of device or method of traveling dimensions!--" Relic explained, quickly going into a ramble.

"The wisps are from another dimension?? How did you manage to get wisp eggs, Eclipse??" Widow asked in utter confusion.

"I have my ways, Lady Widow~." Eclipse responded with a smirk.

"Could you teach me one day? I'd love to travel the multiverse!" Relic asked.

"You haven't even traveled outside of this planet, Relic! What's the big rush?" Eclipse pointed out to her.

"Ah! Right! I suppose I should start by traveling this universe before I go to others, huh?" Relic said, laughing a bit. Eclipse could tell that Harazuki was looking at them with a suspicious look, but decided to head her no mind.

"Though, I don't think wisps are known for learning languages other than the one they already speak amongst themselves… I wonder what caused the Dark Arms to be different in that way…" Relic said.

"Most likely the addition of Black Arms DNA…" Eclipse answered nonchalantly.

"Or maybe it's that your intelligence rubbed off onto them, ay Relic?" Rouge suggested in a flirty tone, causing Relic to blush.

"Wh-what??--" She blurted out.

"You know, one must argue if something is of nature or nurture…" Eclipse noted, further encouraging Rouge's point.

"E-ECLIPSE--!!" Relic shouted, her face now completely red. Eclipse and Rouge both chuckled loudly, which made Relic even more embarrassed and angry.

Shadow felt Widow squirm back into their embrace, catching a tear quelling in her eye.

"Hey, mom, you alright…?" They asked.

".... How close are we to the storage space?" She asked flatly.

"I think we're almost there." Shadow answered. Widow moved herself to be able to stare out the car window, leaning its head on the rim.

"... Does Rouge flirting with Relic bother you?" Shadow asked over the hivemind.

"... It does, if I'm being completely honest. You and Garrick remind me so much of Doomie, of course, but… with Rouge in the mix, I've got myself missing both of them now…" Widow responded.

"... "Both of them"?"

"Hey! Shadow! Is this the place?" Rouge asked.

"Oh, yeah. This is the place." Shadow answered.

Rouge pulled the car into park and hopped out along with everyone else, who stood there, waiting for Shadow or Omega to tell them what needed to be done.

"Omega, can you give instructions on how to handle Midnight for me?" Shadow whispered to Omega, who happily took its request, and started giving orders out as Shadow tried to ask Widow again about what she said.

"What did you mean by "both of them", mom?" They asked.

"Oh, it's nothing…" Widow responded, trying to get Shadow to drop the subject. “Didn’t you say you needed help with something?” It asked.

"Right…" Shadow nodded. “Omega, Mom, you two come with me, I bet you two can carry the big stuff to the truck.” They instructed.

“Is that a challenge?” Omega asked boldly.

"Look, just get started, okay?" Shadow told him, not feeling up to being playful. "Mom, come with me, okay? I'll help you if you need." Widow silently nodded in response.

“So we’ll handle the rest after they get out the heavy things??” Yuki asked as Shadow left.

"Is that what Omega told you to do?" Shadow asked him.

"Yeah-"

“Then Yes!” Shadow hastily answered.

"Oh- uh- okay…" Yuki responded, tearing up a bit. Shadow felt bad and wanted to apologize, but didn't get the chance to.

“What is it that you need us to carry?” Omega asked.

“It’s a project that I've been working on for a few months now…." Shadow began to explain, a smile forming on its face. "You see, I wanted a child, ya know? So I recovered Gerald’s journal, and got to work on Project: MIDNIGHT!” There was a few seconds of silence, and then Shadow heard Widow sniffling, but before they could say anything, she was already flying off towards the truck. “Stay here, Omega.”

“Understood.” Shadow ran after her.

By the time Shadow caught up to her, Widow was inside the truck, holding Garrick close.

“Mommy….?” Garrick rubbed his eyes tiredly, confused and worried about his mom.

“Did I say something wrong..?” Shadow asked.

“Oh no… It’s just… The way you spoke about that Midnight project of yours…” Shadow caught on to what Widow was saying.

“I see... I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? I’m the one getting over emoti-”

“Because we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it wasn’t for me being stupid… Hell, we wouldn’t even be here…”

“.... Yeah, you aren’t wrong.” Widow looked back at Garrick. “I’ll never forgive you, Shadow.”

“Good, you shouldn’t.” Shadow responded, tearing up.

“But that doesn’t mean I hate you.”

“I know.”

“You’ve changed since then. You’re capable of doing as much good for us as you’ve done bad, or even more so.” Widow added, looking at Shadow, most likely smiling under that mask of hers. Shadow stayed silent. “Anyway, I’m feeling better now… We should get back on track, and rejoin Omega in getting the supplies and stuff for Midnight.”

“.... I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Shadow insisted sharply. They stayed in the truck, eventually falling asleep, with its mouth still quivering, feeling its cheeks get wet as they slipped into slumber, a part of them hoping that it’d never wake up.

But they did, and when they did, it noticed that they were in a completely different area, and that Midnight's lab area had been nearly completely rebuilt, with Eclipse and Relic sleeping next to it. But more importantly, Shadow heard something, a faint voice…

Calling out to them.

“Wha… Hello…?” Shadow responded, still mostly asleep.

“Shadow… Are you awake..?”

“Huh..?” Shadow started to fully wake up, quickly realizing who was trying to talk to them, “Dad?? Wait, does that mean… My wish came true…?” Shadow asked.

“... No.”

“Oh… I’m still alive then…” Shadow sighed and stared off into the distance.

“Why do you so desperately want your own demise..?”

“Oh please, don’t you fucking DARE act like you don’t know why!” Shadow snapped back, causing Doom to become even more upset than he already was.

“Shadow…”

“Why are you even here? Why are you supposedly working through ME of all people?” Shadow yelled, incredibly emotional. Doom saw Garrick begin to stir due to the loud noise, and quickly teleported Shadow away from the truck, as to not wake him or anyone else up.

“Do you not remember what Widow told you earlier?”

“No, I do. She’s just wrong..” The way Doom was going about the conversation was clearly not helping, so he took a moment to rethink their approach.

“I know you feel guilty for killing me-”

“It’s not just that! I killed millions, no, BILLIONS of Black Arms! I took nearly everything Widow knew away from her! I've RUINED so many lives!!” Shadow curled up and sobbed.

“You aren’t wrong, but neither is Widow… You’ve changed so much since then, Shadow… The fact that you are beating yourself up so much about it proves as much… That’s the main reason I chose you to be my vessel…”

Shadow looked up at Doom, successfully soothed.

“ ”Main reason”…? What are the other reasons?”

“I’ll explain, but… Let’s take a walk together, it’ll be good for you…”

Shadow nodded, agreeing.

“The other reasons why I chose you… well, my other two considerations were Widow and Garrick, but I ended up choosing YOU, Shadow, was because you have the best of both of them…”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, Shadow, you have Widow’s maturity and intelligence, and you have a piece of me that I can link to you through in the form of having my DNA, like Garrick does.”

Shadow smiled, blushing a bit from Doom’s comments about it being mature and intelligent.

“You know, it may be odd to say… But I’m impressed that you were able to kill me..!”

Shadow was taken aback.

“I-Impressed?? What??” Shadow asked, completely confused.

Doom laughed heartily.

“I’m QUITE powerful, yes, but you, Shadow, defeated me with relative ease! My heir being even more powerful than I? Yes, it’s a dream come true!!”

“You’re a lot more passionate than usual..!” Shadow said.

“Oh yes, Widow says I talk much more than I normally do when I get excited.”

“I see that!”

The two of them continued walking, sharing stories and bonding with each other. Despite Black Doom being a mere ghost now, Shadow felt closer to him than ever before.

“Oh, right! All of this talking made me forget!”

“Forget what?” Shadow looked at him, confused.

“The reason why I was calling out to you earlier was because I needed you to get something, but I knew you wouldn’t know where it was, so that’s why I came with you.”

“Oh… So, just like how it used to be..? Before I..-” Doom quickly cut Shadow off before they could go into a guilt-filled mental breakdown like last time.

“Not exactly… What we’re looking for isn’t for me this time… It’s for you!”

Before Shadow could respond, Doom piped up once again.

“I'll go get it for you, actually. I think I can sense where it is...”

Suddenly, Black Doom’s iconic Doom’s Eye Amulet appeared at Shadow’s feet.

“Your necklace…?” Shadow looked up at Doom, who looked back at them lovingly. “You want me to have your necklace..?”

“Yes, indeed… It’s one of my smallest pieces of jewelry, but I know that our difference in height is quite distinct, so it may still be a bit big on you..”

When Shadow put it on, the six-pointed star pendant hung at its ankles.

“Ah…. yeah.” Shadow chuckled awkwardly. “I bet Mom can fix it up for me..”

“I bet that as well."

"By the way, I just remembered…" Shadow said. "What did mom mean by… both?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I was talking to mom earlier, it said that Rouge was making her miss "both of them"...." Shadow explained.

"Oh, I think I know what she meant - Give me a second." Doom then went out of Shadow's view for a few minutes, soon coming back with a woman. She was slightly taller than Doom, with nearly fluorescent iris-less teal eyes, wearing a ripped black dress and a seafoam green scarf that was just as torn as her dress.

"Aww! What a cutie pie! Is this Garrick?" The woman asked.

"N-no ma'am… I'm Shadow…" Shadow answered sheepishly.

"Oh…. Well, you seem pretty upset. You regret what you've done?"

"... Yes." Shadow looked away, trying to keep themself from crying.

"Ah! Sweet!" The woman said cheerfully. "My name's Sendrir! I helped to kickstart the Black Arms back in the day, ya know." She said with pride. "I also fucked his wife a couple of times." She added, pointing to Doom.

"SENDRIR!" Doom yelled, appalled.

"What? You let me." Sendrir responded in a sassy tone.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M ANGRY ABOUT!" Doom argued. "... I'd rather you not be so vulgar about it in front of my child…!"

"Dad, I know what sex is. You don't need to baby me.." Shadow said, trying to hold in its laughter.

Doom sighed, he knew that Shadow was right, so they decided it'd be too much effort to continue arguing with Sendrir.

"Oh, and there was that one time where Doom and I got drunk and-" Sendrir started to add, but Doom interrupted her.

"IF YOU'RE TELLING THEM ABOUT WHAT I THINK YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT I SWEAR I WILL-" Shadow was on the brink of laughing hysterically now.

"I know you enjoyed it." Sendrir said, causing Doom to groan.

"Look, let's just get going, the sun's almost up. I'd hate to have the others worry about where Shadow is."

"Oh yeah… sorry." Sendrir responded seriously.

"I hope that the others don't freak out that I'm gone…" Shadow said. "Causing more sorrow is… The complete opposite of what I wanna do…" It added.

"I can tell. You know, you're very different from what I was expecting from THE Shadow!" Sendrir said to Shadow. "I think you're gonna do a lot of good things for us."

"You… You really think so?" Shadow asked.

"Of course!"

"Sometimes you really do know what to say…" Doom noted.

"Uh, yeah? We've known each other for how long now?" Sendrir responded, switching back to that usual sassy tone of hers.

"Come on you two. Let's get back to base already." Shadow said to them, cracking a slight, calm smile.

“Shadow!! Where were you?!” Garrick yelled, tightly hugging Shadow right after they were teleported back to the temporary camping spot. “Mommy and I were worried about you!"

“Settle down, both of you. We only woke up 15 minutes ago, for all we know-” Eclipse started to say, but Widow interrupted them, seeing the necklace Shadow had on.

“Is it really…? Doom’s amulet?? How did you find this??”

“Well… Ah, you’ll probably never believe me..-” Suddenly, the emerald center of the pendant produced a bright light and a bit of force, sending Widow and Shadow back a bit. The light quickly dimmed down, revealing Doom’s ghost to everyone else. Widow stood in disbelief for a few seconds before its eyes filled with tears.

“OH DOOMIE!!” She belted happily, heavily crying.

“I missed you so much, my dear..”

"I missed you too…" Widow responded, wiping her eyes.

"IS THAT THE VOICE OF MY LITTLE WIDOW I HEAR?" Another voice suddenly shouted out. Both Shadow and Widow automatically recognized it.

"S-Sendrir???" Widow asked, tearing up again.

"You know it baby!" Sendrir answered, coming into everyone's view. Widow suddenly felt something go by her, quickly realizing that it was Garrick.

"Are you my daddy, mister?" He asked Doom.

"Yes, I am… Oh how I wish I could have been there to see you grow, my son…" He answered, trying to hide the tears in their eyes, so as to not upset anyone. "But it seems that your mother has done quite a good job at raising you…"

"Wouldn't expect any less from the best!" Sendrir added, looking at Widow.

"Aww… you guys are so sweet, even after all this time… If only I could still feel that love in a physical sense…"

“Don’t worry, my love… I already accounted for that hope..”

He looked back at Shadow.

“Prepare yourself, Shadow… This may be a bit overwhelming..”

The blinding light from before returned, and shined briefly through Shadow’s eyes and mouth. The light left as soon as it came, just as it did last time. Everyone watched over Shadow’s body in curiosity and confusion, seeing their eyes open, completely orange, with no visible irises. Widow already caught on to what was happening, but then a third eye opened up on their forehead, making it more obvious. Widow turned into her Mobian form to erase the height difference, and pulled her beloved into her arms. Temporarily being a ghost was quite surreal to Shadow at first, but it quickly pulled themself together and appreciated getting to see their mother being so happy for once.

"Hey! What about me?!" Sendrir pouted.

"Finding a conduit for you will be tricky…" Doom explained.

"And why's that? What about-!" Sendrir began to argue, but then a realization came to her. "... Oh yeah. I see why that wouldn't work. That's fair."

"I'm just happy to see you guys again at all, honestly!" Widow admitted.

"Lord Doom." Eclipse said suddenly.

"Hm? Oh, what is it you need of me..?"

"Is Sendrir the only ghost of a fallen Black Arms you're able to bring to us?" They asked.

"No, of course not." Doom responded.

"... I see." Eclipse said with a satisfied smile. "It would be a pleasure to see my masters once again."

"Hey can I ask? Who is this kid??" Sendrir asked, pointing to Eclipse.

"This is Eclipse. I don't know much about them, but I know that the "masters" they refer to are Death and Vladmira." Doom explained to her.

"... That explains the "master" title… God Death was always so full of himself.."

"My masters told me many stories of the Black Arms' history. I do believe I've heard of you in many of them." Eclipse said to Sendrir.

"Well, I sure hope you enjoy getting to meet me in person!" Sendrir remarked.

"I very much do enjoy meeting you! You seem like a fun person to be around."

"Well, I'm afraid that I must return to my ghostly form…. Shadow and I will try to learn to sustain this form of my existence for longer periods of time, but for now I am at my limit, I cannot try to inhabit Shadow’s body any longer without some dire consequences…" Doom said sadly.

"Oh… well it was nice being able to hug you again.. and stuff." Widow replied. Doom kissed her on the lips.

"Wait! Wait!" Garrick cried.

"Hmm?"

Garrick ran up and hugged Doom tightly. "Are you proud of me?"

"Of course…"

After letting go of Garrick, Doom left Shadow’s body, allowing Shadow to inhabit it once again.

"Thank you, Shadow…"

“Hey… What’s with all the noise?? So early in the morning t-” Rouge groaned tiredly as she walked into the scene,, overhearing the commotion cutting herself off when she saw what was going on.

“My, would you look at that? I’m not much into supernatural things, aside from the mythologies of ancient civilizations, but even I’ll admit seeing a ghost right before my eyes is quite a sight indeed!” Relic said, surprised, as well as quite curious.

“Anyway…. No hard feelings, rig-?” Rouge began to say to Doom, before being cut off again, though it wasn't by herself this time.

“HOLY CRAP!! HARA WAKE UP, YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!!” Yuki suddenly yelled, being one of the last people to wake up aside from Eclipse’s Dark Arms,

“Yuki…? What are you yelling about now…” Harazuki looked up. “What the- Lord Doom???” She hopped up and ran to everyone else.

“Ah, Harazuki! How have you been?”

“Oh my... you, it’s really you…!” Hara said, already on the verge of tears. Hara looked down, curious as to where Doom's ghost had come from, and saw that the light illuminating Doom’s ghost was coming from Shadow. “... Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought…”

“No, I probably am…” Shadow replied, really only half-joking around.

“Shadow! Have you already forgotten what I-”

“Nah… I’m just kidding. I swear."

"Mhm… Surrrrre you are." Sendrir remarked.

"No need to be a troublemaker now, Sen." Doom told her.

“Hey, sir, I just remembered something.” Yuki said, finally catching up to Hara.

“Hello there Yuki! What is it?”

“Well… What ever happened to the Aerth Temple? The one you, Widow, Sendrir, Mom and Black Death built back in the old days or whateves?”

“Oh dear! What DID ever happen to that?”

“Ugh, it better not be destroyed!” Widow pouted.

"I'm with Widow on that! We worked real hard on that, ya know?" Sendrir said.

“I think it’s still up, I mean, Knuckles, The Doctor and I were the only outsiders who knew about it… Right?” Shadow asked.

“Yeah, I don’t remember hearing about it, let alone destroying it.” Rouge added.

“Then it’s most likely still up…!” Doom reasoned.

“That's great!” Widow and Sendrir said in unison.

“We can use that as our base!” Yuki suggested.

“I like that idea, Yuki..”

“Whelp, looks like we gotta deconstruct Midnight’s set up again…” Eclipse sighed, looking over to Relic, hoping to see her feeling the same tiredness they did, but they saw that she seemed to be incredibly excited, which was in some aspects, even better to see.

“This is quite wonderful! I can’t wait to see it!”

“Eclipse, I’ll go get as much scrap metal as possible while you and Relic deconstruct the Midnight lab.” Shadow offered.

“Ah, yes, that’ll be quite good. Make sure to get a lot, I need enough to make an airship that’ll hold all of us!” Eclipse responded.

“I can help you if you want.” Hara said to Shadow.

“Same here!” Yuki added.

“Sounds like a plan to me! What about you?”

“I’m quite fine with that!” Eclipse said.

"By the way, Yuki… Sorry for how I spoke to you yesterday..." Shadow said.

"It's alright Shadow… Sometimes things just happen under stress… I've been under enough pressure myself to know that well… let alone all the pressure this vessel's dealt with when I'm not using it." Yuki rambled out in response.

“I’ll take that as my goodbye cue… Farewell for now.” Doom said.

"Guess I gotta go too… Bye Widow!! Love you!!" Sendrir added.

“Farewell...” Widow blew a kiss to its lovers. “For now…” She added, taking solace in those words, and Shadow did as well, knowing that they weren’t alone.

#teos #the era of shadow #sonic au #sonic fanfiction #shadow the hedgehog #black arms #i don't wanna tag all the characters rn #writing tag #undescribed

10 notes · View notes

stardewspellshed · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Birthday Bouquet: A Stardew-based Techno Magic Curse

There's a guy I've known for years who's notorious for being a terrible person by... everybody I know who isn't terrible in their own right, honestly. There's a mile long list of reasons why he got to eat this curse, but the relevant one is that he's been mistreating a bunch of people and this is unfortunately not the first time this has happened.

And so when I'm out of all other options, I go for a curse. This one has worked swimmingly. This is a freakishly long post so it's under a cut for once.

What you need:

Some knowledge of energy work and poppets-- if you're unfamiliar these are pretty common concepts and there's many resources that can explain them to you.

Six Wilted Bouquets (Substitute with something else gross if you can't buy bouquets from Pierre's yet. Any hated item works. Void Mayonnaise or Rotten Plants would be my pick but your mileage may vary.)

Six tables for your bouquet (end tables work best)

Something to play Happy Birthday with

At least one light source that can be manually turned on and off by the player (like braziers, campfires, or fireplaces.)

A villager to represent your target-- you're going to be giving this villager the nasty thing!

(Optional) crops, fish, fruits, gems, artifacts, or other items with correspondences that match your intentions-- I picked kale for bitterness and catfish for drowning in his own negativity, but your items will vary depending on your desired results and personal associations.

(Optional) a notepad, paper, and writing utensil in a color you associate with cursing if you can't do or are just not great with visualization.

Timing

Cast on your target's birthday in real time, on the target's representative villager's birthday in game, or Fall 28 in-game. A waning crescent moon or total lunar eclipse in real time would probably also work in a pinch.

Pre-Spell Prep Work

Prepare your Bouquets by tossing them in a furnace with a piece of coal, or if you're using something else instead, craft that if you need to.

Also, if you aren't using Wilted Bouquets, you might want to do a bit of research to make sure they actually hate the nasty thing you plan on using since it's kinda missing the point to give Snails to Vincent or a Void Egg to Sebastian haha. I recommend using the Stardew Valley wiki (though friendly reminder not to do that if potential spoilers for patch 1.5 bother you since that JUST came out on console at the time I'm writing this) to check their hates. As an added bonus if you're like me and the kind of person who hates the thought of losing friendship points, this is a great opportunity to check what they love so you can stock up on stuff to fix it when you're done with the spell.

After that, pick a villager to represent your target. (I have a whole thing with suggestions for how to do that here if you're at a loss for who to pick.) I picked Penny to represent my target because other than the part where he's a heinous shitgibbon they've got very similar values, interests, and goals.

Setting Up The Spell

If you have a specific pre-casting routine (whether that's grounding, centering, meditation, warding, casting a circle, calling on deities or spirits for help, etc.), take care of that now.

Put down your light source inside a farm building then arrange the tables around them in a shape you feel is fitting-- I chose as close to a circle as I could get because that's the shape I most associate with birthday cakes. Leave space for one bouquet in the center or between your light sources, and if you're using extra ingredients set those up too. I felt it was best to set them up directly next to the bouquet in the middle, but that will probably vary depending on you.

Casting the spell

Turn your light on, then take a strand of energy and visualize it anchoring itself inside the thing to start things off. Play Happy Birthday while you bring the energy through all of the other items. Stop at each of the other bouquets, and say/think a reason why this person is getting cursed at each. If you don't have five reasons, something like "your behavior is messed up and you need to stop" or similar works.

Bring your energy through your correspondence items and for each, say/think, "for your birthday, in return for <insert the last straw that made you decide to do this here>, I give you <insert the intention this item is being used for here>."

End on the one you're going to give and say/think something summing up everything you've already said and making it very clear why you're putting this on them.

I said "<target's full name>, I'm really just sick of your shit. You are bigoted on so many different levels, two-faced, treat anyone you think is less than you like trash, have an enormous entitlement complex, and <something he did to one of my friends that they would like to keep private>. My birthday wish for you is that you get your head out of your ass. Apologize for your crappy behavior and stop doing it, or drown in misery and realizing how small of a person you actually are. Happy birthday!"

Let it stew as long as you feel appropriate, then figuratively blow out the candle by turning off your light source.

(If you struggle with visualization, plot out your layout on a piece of paper-- it doesn't need to be incredibly detailed if you don't want it to be, a bunch of Xes in a square will work.

Focus on your intent and emotions like discussed above, but do it while looking at the item you're going to give to your villager. While doing that, draw a line at the mark representing your light, and speak it into existence-- keep focusing on your emotions and intent and describe it connecting into the light source whether by speaking out loud or thinking it. Draw your line going through all of the other items while describing your energy the same way, stop on the other bouquets and correspondence items as described above, and end on the one you're going to give to your target just like you would otherwise. )

Deliver those nastyass flowers to your villager, then end the day. You are done!

Post Spell Procedure

I like to get a snack, stretch, and watch something silly to make me laugh and shake off any residual anger or sorrow from spells like this.

I also like to turn off my Switch and sound cleanse my whole space since I have a bell. I'd strongly recommend doing some kind of cleansing even if you don't sound cleanse.

(Note: ribbon dividers are not mine, I found them here. Please let me know if you know who actually created them!!)

#tech magic #pop culture magic #techno magic #techno witchcraft #pop culture witchcraft #tech witch #gif warning #curses #baneful magic

41 notes · View notes

chiseler · 5 years ago

Text

VISAGE... VOICE... VITAPHONE

In Dimitri Kirsanoff's Menilmontant a destitute waif, betrayed and abandoned by the man who seduced her, sits on a park bench with her newborn infant. Beside her is an old man eating a sandwich. This wordless exchange is one of the greatest moments ever committed to film. Nadia Sibirskaia’s face reveals all of life’s cruel mysteries as she gazes upon a crust of bread.

The persistence of hope is the dark angel that underlies despair, and here it taunts her mercilessly. A whole series of fluctuations of expression and movement in reaction to anguish, physical pain involving hesitation, dignity, ravenous hunger, survival, self-contempt, modesty, boundless gratitude. All articulated with absolute clarity without hitting notes (without touching the keys). Chaplin could have played either the old man on the bench (his mustache is a sensory device!) or Nadia. And it would have been masterful and deeply affecting, but Nadia went beyond virtuosity and beyond naturalism.

She made it actual. And it was more than just a face. Sunlight travels across buildings at every second of the day; and the seasons change the incidence of light, too. Nothing stands still. Even déjà vu doesn’t attempt an exact rendition with the feel of a perfect replay.

***

Another face equates with pain—though a far more luxurious and decadent kind of pain, a visage summoning leftover ancient Roman excess or Florentine backstreets, the contortions of Art Nouveau with its flowers, prismatic walls and perennial themes of ripeness/rottenness, sadomasochism. While various directors have helped mold her naturally unsettling screen presence into nightmare visions, it’s Barbara Steele's vulnerability I tend to remember.

She is open and sensitive even as she materializes in the viewer’s mind as a kabuki demon one moment and a radioactive waxwork the next, a kind of alchemical transformation, an appeal to what Keats called negative capability—one’s ability to appreciate something without wholly understanding it; in fact, one’s ability to appreciate an object for its mystery.

“When did I ever deserve this dark mirror?” Barbara Steele asks me. “Clever you – I feel you’ve just twisted and wrung out an old bible to dry that’s been left somewhere outside lost in timeless years of…” She pauses. “…of rain.”

She made her Italian screen debut as a revenant. And in so doing taught us all the eye is not a camera. It’s a projector.

Barbara Steele’s appearance in 1960’s Black Sunday is, even now, a shock of such febrile sexuality that it forces us to ask ourselves—why do we saddle her with diminishing monikers like “Scream Queen”? And, more fundamentally, why does her force of personality seem to trouble and vex every narrative she touches?

Of course, the answer is partly grounded in Steele’s unique physical equipment—and here I’ll risk repeating a clichéd word about those famous emerald eyes of hers: “Otherworldly.” As if sparked to life by silent-film magician Segundo de Chomón, the supreme master of hand-tinted illusionism. Peculiar even within the context of gothic tales on celluloid for the consumption of Mod audiences, flashing at us from well beyond their allotted time and place in history.

Barbara Steele is one of cinema’s true abominations—a light-repelling force that presents itself in an arrangement of shadows on the screen. No “luminary,”Steele is celluloid anti-matter; a slow burning black flame that devours every filament around it. Steele’s beauty is no accident of nature, even if she is, but in Black Sunday she gives a virtuoso performance by an artist in full command of her talent summoning and banishing it in equal measure in her dual role as mortal damsel in distress and undead predator released from her crypt. Filmmaking is the darkest and unholiest of arts (done right, that is), and for Mario Bava it becomes the invocation of beast and woman from the unconsecrated soil of nightmares. Steele remains the high priestess of the unlit and buried chambers of the imagination; the pure pleasure center of original sin and the murderous impulse buried just below the surface. She reminds us that existence itself is the highest form of betrayal and a continuing curse on us all.

Where Steele’s Italian films are concerned, we are watching silent movies of a sort. “The loss of voice for me has always been devastating…. It’s almost like some karmic debt…” Her sonic presence was eclipsed in a string of crudely, sadly dubbed horror vehicles, yes, including Black Sunday—no doubt aficionados of the great Mario Bava will object to my calling it a “vehicle.” But whenever Steele appears, the storyline falls away. Anachronism rules. Not to mention the director’s exquisite sets, all keyed and subordinated to his ingénue’s stark loveliness (understood in black and white, molded by Italian cameramen into disquieting and sudden plasticity). Like a hot-blooded funerary sculpture made of alabaster, raven hair piled high, Steele’s already imposing height summons schizoid power, satanic sorcery—she’s Eros and Thanatos dynamically balanced. I’ve screened the film many times; and the famous opening sequence invariably leaves my otherwise jaded film students looking traumatized. (Just as a young Martin Scorsese was shattered by it once upon a time.) Barbara Steele’s defiant witch, spewing a final curse upon her mortal judges, pierces to the bone.

While Italian movies robbed Steele of her voice, they liberated her from what it had meant in Britain. Leading ladies in Brit films tended to be well brought-up young things, unless they were lusty and working-class like Diana Dors. Even at Hammer, where sexuality was unleashed regularly via bouts of vampirism, the erotically active roles usually went to continental lovelies (Polish immigrant Ingrid Pitt got her work permit based on Hammer’s claim that no native-born actress could exude such desire and desirability). Steele turns up all-too briefly in Basil Dearden’s Sapphire (1959) as an art school girl, the only kind of role that might allow for both intelligence and a certain liberated attitude. And Steele really was exactly that type. Her appearance is so arresting, you want the movie to simply abandon its plot and follow her into some fresh storyline: it wouldn’t really matter what.

In Italy, Steele suddenly became class-less and nation-less, devoid of associations beyond those conjured by the chiseled cheekbones and enormous eyes (convincingly replaced with poached eggs by Bava for a special effects shot). Her inescapable exoticism didn’t make sense in her native land, but that bone structure could suggest Latin, Slavic, or anything else. Omninational, omnisexual, but definitely carnivorous.

Generally remote with his actors, who were nothing more than compositional elements to him, Bava’s capricious move of selecting his female lead from a magazine photo-spread looks almost prescient in hindsight. Was it luck? Or, perhaps her now legendary eyes suggested a bizarre and beautiful leitmotif… to be destroyed, resurrected, and played endlessly on a register of emotions—extreme emotions, that is, tabooed delights.

Steele shares an anecdote about her director’s temperament and working methods on Black Sunday… “Everything was so meticulously planned that Bava rarely asked me for multiple takes. There was no sense of urgency or drama, which was rare for an Italian director…” I’m suddenly detecting deep ambivalence as she vacillates between little jabs at Bava (“He was a Jesuit priest on the set, somewhere far away”) and gratitude. “There was a tremendous feeling of respect, whereas in my earliest roles at Rank I always felt shoved around, practically negated by the pressure of production.

“Bava did go absolutely berserk once,” she goes on. “John Richardson, this gorgeous, sinewy creature, for some reason couldn’t carry me across the room. And I was like eleven pounds in those days. We had to do it over and over, twenty times or something, and whenever John stumbled or dropped me, the whole crew would be in hysterics. We were all howling with laughter, except for Bava – he went simply wild! Eventually, some poor grip had to get down on all fours, and I rode on his back in a chair with John pretending to carry me.”

If Black Sunday is a summation of spiritual and physical dread, it’s because Steele is everyone in this dream-bauble, everyone and everywhere, an all-consuming autumnal atmosphere. Which, of course, provides Mario Bava with something truly rare—a face and mien as unsettling as horror films always claim to be and almost never are. The devastation she leaves behind, her anarchic displacement, which has nothing to do with conventional notions of performance or “good acting,” is hard to describe. And here Bava earns his label of genius through compositional meaning—amid the groundswells of fog, lifeless trees and gloomy dungeons, Steele is an absence impossibly concretized in penumbras and voids. She is a force of nature never to be repeated.

Nightmare Castle (1965) starts off in Lady Chatterley mode as Steele cheats on her mad scientist husband (“At this rate you’ll wipe out every frog in the entire county,” is an opening line less pithy but more arresting than “Rosebud”) with the horny handyman. She’s soon murdered on an electrified bed, hubby preserving her heart for unexplained reasons while using her blood to rejuvenate his mistress. Then he marries her insipid blonde half sister (Steele again in a blonde wig) and tries to drive her mad. So we now have Gaslight merged with Poe and every revenge-from-the-grave story ever.

The identical twin half-sisters (?) bifurcate further: blonde Barbara goes schizoid, possessed it seems by her departed semi-sibling. Dark Barbara comes back as a very corporeal revenant, hair occluding one profile, like Phil Oakey of the Human League. Tossing the locks aside, she reveals… the horror!

Almost indescribable in terms of plot, character or dialogue, the film looks stunning, as chiaroscuro as Steele’s coal-black hair and snow-white skin. Apparently the product of monkey-typewriter improvisation, the story serves as a kind of post-modern dream-jumble of every Gothic narrative ever. You might get a story like this if you showed all of Steele’s horrors to a pissed-up grade-schooler and then asked them to describe the film they just saw. As a result, the movie really takes what Dario Argento likes to call the “non-Cartesian” qualities of Italian horror to the next dank, stone-buttressed level.

When I first met Barbara Steele about ten years ago, we somehow found ourselves sitting in front of a Brancusi sculpture here in New York City—I remember a filmmaker acquaintance joking afterwards: “Steele beats bronze!” Indeed, at 66 she was still stunningly beautiful, flirtatious, frighteningly aware of the power of her stare.

She was a painter in her youth, so it’s not surprising that, even as I visualize her in a voluptuous, cinematic world of castles and blighted landscapes, her own self-image is perennially absorbed by art—in the sense of André Malraux’s Museum Without Walls. She asks me to show her my paintings and when I dodge the subject out of shyness she offers:

A friend of mine just had a show of his art in a little cinema here – very small paintings, about 8 inches by 6 – and then they projected them onto one of their screens and they looked fantastic! Size is everything! Unless you were born in the Renaissance… then you were surrounded by silence and stone walls, shadows and glimmers of gold, and faces that are like spells they look so informed.

Steele speaks of her “old, suspicious Celtic soul,” her bitterness at having “flitted through movies par hazard,” and a newfound desire to make audio books (what colossal revenge!). It’s poetic really, this doppelganger, a ghost-like screen persona following her around. Whenever I think of the effect her movies have had on me, the following words by Charles Lamb leap to mind.

Gorgons and Hydras and Chimaeras – dire stories of Celaeno and the Harpies – may reproduce themselves in the brain of superstition – but they were there before. They are transcripts, types – the archetypes are in us, and eternal. How else should the recital of that which we know in a waking sense to be false come to effect us at all? Is it that we naturally conceive terror from such objects, considered in their capacity of being able to inflict upon us bodily injury? O, least of all! These terrors are of older standing. They date beyond body – or without the body, they would have been the same… That the kind of fear here treated is purely spiritual – that it is strong in proportion as it is objectless on earth, that it predominates in the period of our sinless infancy – are difficulties the solution of which may afford some probable insight into our ante-mundane condition, and a peep at least into the shadowland of pre-existence.

Even the wooliest metaphysics can be hard to separate from actual violence. Case in point: the night of September 22, 1796. Charles Lamb had his own brush with horror, when the future poet and author of children’s stories found himself removing a bloody knife from his sister’s hand. A spasm of matricidal rage that would land her in a mad house—and tending to prove, once again, the need for genres of terror and trepidation. For a moment at least, Steele seems to agree, bowled over by the Lamb anecdote, literally screaming: “AND THAT NAME – LAMB – IT MAKES YOU THINK OF SUCH INNOCENT BRITISH LANDSCAPES!” She’s a fairly solitary and introspective person on the one hand, capable of intense and unexpected eruptions of joy on the other, which may be why Italians have always embraced her—a shared gloomy zest for life, fatalism and pasta. There’s something intensely porous about her (as porous as film itself), which helps clarify her otherwise inscrutable tension with that shadow-self up on the screen, the one she so busily downgrades.

***

The thirties bustled with wise-cracking, fast-talking dames, probably not for any proto-feminist reason, but simply because the writers had a surplus of sassy talk to dispense onto the screen, and audiences liked looking at legs, so why not combine the two? Amid all the petite peroxide pretties, a few acerbic character actresses were allowed room, perhaps to make the cuties bloom all the more radiantly against them. Whatever the aesthetic logic, we can be grateful for it, since it gave us Ruth Donnelly and Winnie Lightner and Jean Dixon and a few other unforgettable shrews and wiseacres, adept as stage mothers, streetwise best pals of the leading lady, etc.

Aline MacMahon sort of fits into this category, but also destroys any category she sees with her laser vision. In Gold Diggers of 1933, she’s a Fanny Bryce type comedy showgirl, and in Heat Lightning (1934) she’s an ex-moll running a garage. In between, she played world-weary secretaries and put-upon mothers, taking any role and stealing the movie along with it. Rather than resist classification, she goes on the offensive, smashing down stereotypes and insisting on her own peculiar individuality.

Big and rangy in the body and hands, she had a strange, sculpted beauty, and was as luminous as Dietrich. Maybe more so: cameramen hit Marlene with brighter lights to make her shine out, whereas Aline was typically in the lead’s shadow. Her complexion is like the glass of milk in Suspicion in which Hitchcock planted a light bulb. That white. A sheet of paper passing before her face would appear as a dark eclipsing rectangle.

The law of photogenics insists that actresses hired to play the non-glamorous roles must be staggeringly lovely, but off-kilter and unconventional enough to fool the audience into thinking they’re seeing failed beauty. Aline’s unlikely photofit of attractive features resulted in a caricature of elegance and earthiness in precisely the wrong proportions, which makes her fascinating and alluring to watch.

The eyes are seriously big, saucers hooded by the heaviest lids since Karloff’s monster, resulting in long slits which strive to echo the even wider mouth, a perfectly straight line seemingly intent on decapitation. Like a horizon with lips. The chin cleft below catches the viewer by surprise. Were chin clefts on women more common then, or did studios screen in favor of them? The cheekbones have a graceful, yet powerful curve, so the face as a whole combines the qualities of an ice-cream baby and a crystal skull. All wrong, and alright with me.

Aline’s humor about her ill-assorted collection of perfect features was often played on in dialogue, so it’s pleasing when a role like the one in Heat Lightning admits that, for all her unlikeliness, she was indeed beautiful. More than a pretty face, too: her way with a snappy rejoinder distinguished her even in an era of exceptional wit and quicksilver delivery. And her essence, which radiated out whatever the role, was that of a philosophical, warm, smart, funny, sad woman: the essence of the age.

By Daniel Riccuito and David Cairns

5 notes · View notes