#But its for the sake of the plot

[tamavonpineapple]

TURTLE SOUP -DELETED CHAPTER 6-

Since I have deleted the original chapter 6, I decided to post the whole thing here for anyone who didn't read it (tho it's not that good)

I'm currently rewriting most of the chapters since I'm not happy with the results. Once done with that, I'll update everything with the true chapter 6.

THE OTSUKIMI FESTIVAL.

He would have understood if his friend felt cloistered and disappointed to spend a celebration like the otsukimi festival in a town smaller than Usagi's home village. Usagi looked up at the sunning pink and orange sky of the sunset. The people passing by praised the view on their way to the temple.

Moments like those were charming despite the shortage of luxury and comforts. Or rather, the wealth of the capitals did not overshadow the warmth of more secluded towns. That's how Usagi lived his entire childhood, after all, but a fact that he could not forget, is that his companion appreciated those stunning and over-the-top festivals they have in his worlds. He could only imagine the scope of a festival in a city that is home to as many people as Usagi's entire nation

"Hey, 'sagi" Leo nudged slightly, adjusting his new coat. "Why did the trew stones at that arch"

Usagi turned his head to see two kids throwing pebbles at the top of a Torii gate. He hummed before answering. "It is said that if the stone you throw at the top of a Torii stays on top, you will be blessed with good luck."

He illustrated his point by throwing his own rock, which hit the surfaces of the torii before rolling down. He clicked his tongue with a grimace as Leo laughed. “Oh, well…”

"Okay, my turn, my turn." The stone he threw stayed up much to Usagi's dislike, he saw Leo's pride swell up, he watched from below keeping his chin up. "Ha! Take that. Turtles must be luckier than rabbit's"

"Yes, Leo. I saw it" Usagi rolled his eyes, guiding the way to the temple. Leo picked Usagi's rock before following up the stairs, he noticed Leo bent down to pick up another stone, the one that Usagi had thrown. Usagi Glanced sideways as he threw it to land perfectly on the center of the torii.

"double lucky!" Cheered. " Don’t worry, I'll be lucky for the two of us!"

“Show off” He mumbled with a half smile.

Once there, Usagi showed him how to purify himself with the clear water from Chozuya, using the paddle to wash his left hand, then the right and finally his mouth –he even asked if Spot should be purified as well–. They greeted the shinshoku before kneeling to the altar to pray to the moon for the new harvests to come. He offered his remaining pieces of rice balls while Leo played with Spot Behind his back. As he left his offering, he felt Spot excitedly jumping onto his lap to try to eat the rice balls. Fortunately, Leo was able to catched before he could eat any of it. Leo held him in his arms while Usagi scolded Spot who jumped off his arm and ran away annoyed with Usagi, slipping out of the temple behind the bushes. Usagi assured Leo that he would return to them eventually.

"But he'll got lost"

“They are wild animals Leo, he is used to wandering.” He went back to his prayer when Leo seemed to give up. Leo waited a while as Usagi recited his chants, now unsure what to do with himself without Spot around.

"I've only seen these things in movies.” Leo mumbled looking around looking around at the visitors, busy with their own rituals

Usagi stopped his plea to respond under his breath, catching him off guard. “Why don't you pray with me?”

“I- I’ve never prayed before" He said playing with the straws of his coat "I don't even know what am I supposed to do”

Knowing that Leo wasn't the type to pray, Usagi thought he would have laughed and dismissed his requests at first. The air felt cold between them, he was closer than necessary, but too far from what he would have liked to.

He decided that it was better to start again at the top, so he could show Leo the entirety of the ritual. Usagi looked in his purse for a coin and lent it to him “toss the coin into the Saisen-bako –the offering box–” taking the thing between his fingers, he saw him stumbling with himself as he followed his instructions, Usagi told him to bow and clap his hands twice, while he himself repeated the process, He wait for Leo to finish and look at him again expectantly, so Usagi decided to smiled at him to calm him down. “Good, and now repeat after me”

He focuses on Leo's struggle to replicate the cadence of his chants. He slowed rhythm, he honed his speech, and waited for him to catch up, even repeating himself to make sure he did it right.

He prayed for the harvests to come, for the land prosperity, for Lord Noriyuku safety, he prayed for his hometown. He prayed for the living as well, he prayed for the dead. He prayed for his father, mother and–... for his Lord and his, he prayed for Mura, for Atsuko, and even for Shugo's family.

He knew his gods meant nothing to Leo, but Usagi wondered that if he were to pray for him and his family, the gods would answer. However, he shoved down the thought feeling, too embarrassed of himself.

“Now make a wish,” Usagi whispered. “And bow again”

“M’kay” Following his example, he bowed, touching the floor with his forehead.

“That's it” He simply stated, standing up with a smile. “Thanks for coming with me”

Leo smiled uneased, he returned a nervous smile as he rubbed his arms under his coat. “Isn’t this part of the experience?”

“Yes” Usagi softly laughed looking at the offerings “As well as the mochi”

His eyes sparkled “And why are we still here? Let's find Spot and go for those sweets”

On their way back to the mainstreet Leo was always fascinated by the Komuso playing their flutes. Every time he asked Usagi the reason for the strange "baskets" covering their heads, although he remembered well that many of them were ninjas in cover.

Leo was also intrigued by the mochi offerings and the wares of the botefuri that went from here to there.He was too self-absorbed to notice the occasional glances he received. However, it was no worse than the looks directed at Usagi himself. So he assumed that it was a problem with his class and not with him.Two little brothers even bowed to Usagi in honor of the moon rabbit, Usagi bowed back as Leo watched the exchange with a teasing grin.

They overheard the vendors gossip about a bake-kitsune terrorizing a small village on the Geishu outskirts. But the details were fuzzy under the bustle of the street, and the children's laughter.

“Should we worry about it?” Leo asked, pointing at the vendors.

“About the bake-kitsune?" Usagi shocked his head and gestured a circle with his thumb and index. “It’s a swindle, they won't fool me twice”

His change completely to a wide sneered smile “Oh ho ho ho! Has my sly bunny been deceived?”

Usagi frowned. “No. Not like that. A merchant tricked me to accept a bet, yes, in exchange for my service for a year. It turns out that the Inn was popular because it was surrounded by a bunch of yokai… But it was a scam played by the innkeeper's daughters and the yokai were puppets. Long story short I won the bet"

“You think it is the same case? This seems to be the type of things that came to bit you later”

“What are the chances?” Dismissed. They reached the vendor stall surrounded mostly by kids and their parents. Usagi bought a stack of mochi and lended to Leo's trembling hands, Noticing that, Usagi puffed and approached a vendor across the street. He evaded the two staggering drunks and held up two fingers at the vendor “Two bottles of sake, please”

Leo panicked, almost dropping in their sweets. “Wowowow! Sake, like the real deal? No, I- I can’t drink!”

Usagi blinked at leo and deadpanned looked back at the vendor face to correct, holding just one finger up “One cup of sake, please”

“You can’t drink either!”

“Why not?”

Leo sighed and looked away. “Where’s my emotional support anyways?”

“It wouldn't be the first time he ran around like this, but he doesn't do it when you're around” he said leisurely, keeping an eye on Leo still shivering, he put a hand on his shoulder. "You're still freezing, you should stay in a Inn, and I can look for Spot later"

"You want us to stay inside now? Really Usagi? We haven't even seen the moon yet?! It's just a little cold, but I can take it! It hasn't started snowing yet!

He went along with Leo despite his doubts, but promised to get something hot to eat later on to compensate. In part, because Usagi still wanted to attend a poetry reading.

"Poetry? You guys are stuck ups!" Leo yelled before seeing Usagi's unimpressed expression "Well, except for you, 'sagi! You' re cool, you're cool"

They saw kids playing in a pond, catching frogs, making it impossible to see the moon reflection on it.

They wandered for a while, looking for something that caught their attention, Leo kept embracing himself and Usagi could even hear his teeth clapping together at moments. However, every time he offered to share sake with him Leo would turn it down and call for Spot.

"Hi, Long ears!" He heard a woman's voice behind him. Usagi turned to de sound, right before hearing the same voice from the other side. "Bye, bye~ long ears"

Leo turned around looking for the voice's owner, but as quickly as she came, she was lost in the crowd, turning in the nagaya –long building– off the main street."What was that?"

From behind came a group of exhausted police officers, and it was no surprise to Usagi that they decided to approach him right out of all the people.

"Samurai" called the captain, already fighting for his breath. "Have you seen a woman passing by?"

"Sir, we've seen like a hundred women today, you need to be more specific…" Leo mocked

The cop seemed annoyed by his intrusion. "A fox, she's been stolen the merchants belongings"

"A fox thief?" Usagi pretended to ponder it, tucking a hand under his chin and looking up with a grimace before shrugging. "I'm afraid we didn't see it!"

The cops growled, Leo did see Usagi hold back a laugh as the lost officers continued their manhunt. Once they were nowhere to be seen, Leo turned his head to face him.

"You're an enabler!"

"The nature of our relationship should have made that clear by now," Usagi laughed. at Leo's dumbfounded face. "I rather not meddle in Kitsune's affair, it never goes well to me"

"Wait, her name is kitsune, really?"

"Yes, now let's get out of here before she finds us"

They wandered around for a few minutes looking for a good place to settle. Until they finally sat under a tree when a poet captured Usagi's attention and Leo by extension, who although having winced at the idea of sitting through the whole recital, accompanied Usagi without protesting –not out loud, at least–.

Leo frowned at Usagi as he watched him open his sake bottle. "You're really gonna drink it."

Usagi took a sip and gently blew out a sound to warn him to lower his voice so that he would not interrupt the poet. "Just for the occasion, it is part of the tradition, I can't see a reason not to"

Leo finally sighted, resigned "al right, all right, cotton tail. You win"

He felt his fur puffing up again. "What happened to long ears?" Usagi mocked.

"Ugh everybody calls you long ears! Is not special anymore"

Usagi hummed taking a big sip straight from the bottle, it gained a surprised face out of Leo.

"Well…I bet a lot of people call you Leo, should I give you the same courtesy?"

"I– Really? And which one will be?"

"Mhhh~" He hadn't expected to be faced with the possibility of calling Leo something other than his name, certainly Leo's choice of words sounded too cheesy in his own mouth. Not even looking for some inspiration in his face, he seemed to find a name to his affection. Not even witnessing his huge smile once again, nor the light sound of his laughter.

"Now, lemme save you before you have a shut down, Cotton Tail." Leo planted a hand on his shoulder. "I know holding hands it's already third base for you guys''

Usagi didn't know what 'third base' meant, but he had to brush away the idea of holding Leo's hand, being that it was something he didn't know he wanted. "Let us hear the Waka"

The conversation died for a while, especially on the part of Usagi who pretended to listen to the poet's verses, which were nothing more than hums buzzing to the back of his mind. Leo didn't even have the decency to feign interest, he just sat in there munching the mochi balls, while staring at the moon.

Still tasting the sake's warm savoriness inside him. He looked back at Leo, looking curiously at the moon, the brightest of the year, decrypting a mystery that only hounded him. He took the mochi to his mouth out of sheer unconsciousness, one after the other as if he didn't have to share it.

He took another sip, to keep his heat, to make his blood burn, to feel like it burned equal to fugu poison running through his veins. Although, against the cold weather, he welcomed its warmth and went for another cup. Perhaps it would've been wiser having a diner before a good drink, but he didn't bother enough to care this time. He was not going to regret that moment, not listening to the sweet words recited in love poems. Not with the strange warmth of his companion as he watched the beautiful autumn moon.

"You already found the rabbit?" he asked after a few seconds.

Leo's head snapped to look into his eyes. Usagi took another sip, waiting for him to come back from his stupor. "I think That the rabbit in the moon being a thing here of all places gives me heebie-jeebies as much as I think is hilarious.

"Is there a reason why it wouldn't be that way?" He asked, looking at Leo's blank face, as if he hadn't considered that possibility. As if their moons couldn't be the same. "Mhh, it's not like I don't understand the feeling… Tell me again about that thing you said before– was it Mubii?"

That seemed to cheer him up "Movie! Oh man, where do I start–?"

He deviated from the question, again. He should apologize to the poet, but Leo's ravings about his world were simply fascinating.

And so, he continued rambling and rambling about things Usagi might never understand. Leo seemed never to be at a loss for words, as much as he seemed to always be in high spirits. And he was the first to get up when the poet had finished his recital, leaving Usagi to worry about the leftovers left behind. At least there was something left for Spot, wherever he was.

"Ronin" called the same voice from a while ago, Leo, who had already gone ahead, immediately turned his head to see Usagi.

None of them expected the call to be for Leo, from a dancer walking up to him as if she had known him all her life. It took Usagi a few seconds before he recognized Kitsune. Leo, nonetheless, was quite stunned by the stranger's intrusion. He tried to step aside and looked back at Usagi for help. But he soon pulled himself together and greeted with the same enthusiasm. "Wasn't it obvious that I'm a ninja?"

"It is, it is!" she nodded, hugging Leo's arm in hers and resting her head on one of his shoulders. "You know Usagi, right? I'm also a friend of him"

"Aren't you too old to stalk teenagers?" Kitsune's face changed at the sound of being called old, which made Usagi realize that it was time to intervene.

Usagi took his bottle and tied it to his obi before calmly walking over to them. "Don't bother, Kitsune. Leo doesn't even have a purse for you to steal"

"Oh, Usagi!" She crooned, throwing herself to Usagi's arm, attempting to put her arms around him. "Something he must have"

Usagi gently pushed her away, keeping his chest out of her reach. "Only what I have on my own"

Leo rolled his eyes and scoffed "That and sixty-nine cents, you know what that means~"

"My, my! A big one!" she praised Leo "I don't see any clan emblem, I suspect you're a ronin, too? Maybe working as a shinobi has its perks.."

"Not his case, Kitsune." Usagi laughed.

She tried to sugarcoat it with her best smile. "Must be enough to spare a poor lady a bowl tsukimi soba"

Before giving Leo a chance to think about a comeback, Usagi intervened. "Maybe if you didn't try to steal from me every time we meet I'd feel more generous"

Leo looked at the street above their heads, lighting up his face when something went right for him, then spoke at the top of his lungs, shutting down any argument between Usagi and Kitsune and quieting the whispers around him." Oh Ma'am, it is very generous of you to treat two poor ronin to a delicious dinner, you must be rich!"

Usagi raised his head to see the group of policemen from a while ago, walking in their direction.

Kitsune's head snapped around, and her ears faced fully forward. As she lunged forward pushing Usagi by the chest, he heard a curse directed at Leo as he smirked.Likewise, the officers swept away anyone who got in their way, barely giving Usagi time to get out of the way.

"She'll be fine, right?" Leo asked, just slightly concerned.

"They'll be…" He nodded looking in the direction where kitsune had fled.

"They?"

"She and her little sister" Usagi shrugged "is her accomplice"

"Oh– I– right! … right, yes. She and someone else" His voice had trailed off with a sudden realization he kept to himself. "I didn't see her, tho"

"Me neither, but she's always around" Usagi patted her chest, feeling only Mura's manuscript inside her kimono. "Kitsune! That thief stole my purse again!"

"Mhh no soba, then.." It seemed as if Leo had wanted to say something else, but whatever it was, the opportunity was lost when he finally caught sight of his lost friend, who was coming back with something between his teeth. "Spot!... Seems like you were the lucky one"

Leo squatted down to coddle Spot as he took a coin from his teeth. Spot happily swished his tail as Leo rewarded him with the mochi that Usagi still had in his hands, then he stood up and raised the koban to Usagi's face, wrapping his other arm around his shoulders to bring him close to his chest.

“I guess enough for one meal" Usagi tightened his grip on the cloth bag and tried to ignore the sudden closeness of that blatant display of affection as he looked at the koban. He then felt Spot snuggle against his legs and was able to take advantage of the situation to get rid of Leo to carry Spot who tried to search the bag for more Mochis.

"It's something I guess" Leo hugged Usagi's shoulders again as they walked.

"If you are so cold, we can eat inside, they will have no problem for us to share a bowl"

Despite the statement being true, they still received stares from various strangers, and Usagi didn't know that among everything about them, it was the thing that drew attention the most

It looked like Leo was finally warming up, though his hands still moved roughly, and his grip on the chopsticks was rather clumsy. He would have a hard time holding his odachi in those conditions and he hoped he wouldn't have to come to that situation.

"So–" Leo says, blowing at the noodles between his chopsticks. "Her name is Kitsune? And your name is Usagi?"

"Indeed"

"Why?" Insist in a muffled noodle voice.

"Well" Usagi gently stirred the inside of the bowl. "Kitsune is not her given name. She left her name with her old life, I don't know what her name is either."

"Okay, get it! But you're not a thief" He chewed.

"Correct"

He swallowed. "And your name is Usagi anyway…why?"

"Because…" Usagi puts his chopsticks down on the stand with a heavy sigh. "Usagi is just a fraction of my Yōmyo –common name–"

"A fraction, you say?" His confusion overshadowed the mockery in his laughter, his hand freezed halfway to the bowl.. "How long could your name be, don't tell me your name is Shiroi Usagi ?"

His first response was a frown and a small sound of frustration. He savored the aftertaste of the soba that seemed heavier in his mouth now that his own name dangled from the tip of his tongue. He sighted. "It is 'So having made a clay boat the badger rowed out to sea along with the rabbit. Then the badger's boat began to sink... And when it was sinking, the rabbit brandished aloft his oar and struck the badger dead, thus avenging the old man's wife'... "

Speechless, for the first time, his eyes stared somewhere far beyond Usagi. The tips of Leo's chopsticks dripped broth onto the table, he saw one of the sticks wobble between his fingers.His jaw nearly hit the table. Then he stuttered "That's– that's– that's not a name, that's an event, how that even goes with your last name?"

"I'm also not happy going around with a pretentious name like that" He sighed massaging the bridge of his nose. "Not to mention my jitsumei –true name–! No, no, Usagi is just fine"

"No shell, Sherlock, of course Usagi is just fine! Like– I know anime goes crazy with their long-ass names, but this is ridiculous! How'd you fit that on your ID card? Imagine giving that name in a Starbucks! What on the Pizza Supreme name is that?! HAH! And I thought my name was weird!"

"– Is the end of the Kachikachi Yama monogatari, and please use your inner voice… " Usagi was quick to stop his tirade, not only before suffering a stroke from the nonsense that came out of her mouth. He looked around at the scowling brows of the people inside the Inn. "My name is the end of that story"

"Oh, geez! That explains it all, thank you very much!" Leo stabbed wildly into his noodles, letting some of the broth drizzle onto Usagi's sleeve.

"Why? you have problems with my name" Usagi took her chopsticks as well, waiting for Leo to clear the plate that was already less than half full.

"I don't have a problem! But you don't go around naming children after their species. Much less named them after the end of a revenge story about killing people with an oar. Why is that your name?"

He took advantage of Leo resuming his tirade to eat a ration of noodle and rectified it with a mouth full. "More like retributive justice"

"Same difference!" he yelled pointing at Usagi with his chopsticks. Usagi looked at it, outraged. But he swallowed his pride, and another time he would explain the manners. But he didn't miss the looks some of them gave him. "You're kidding, that's not your name"

Usagi's response was a seethe, many times he had to acknowledge that Leo was far too gushy for his own good. That night in particular he didn't feel like being thrown out of the Inn during a cold night because of Leo's unconventional manner, again. "Well, that was the kind of woman my mother was. I may not remember much of her, but the name she gave me always reminds me her view on the world"

"Oh she's…– She gave you that name" His entire raving seemed to dissipate the moment he tried to hide his face in his shell as he stared intently at the raw egg in the bowl. "But didn't you say it was pretentious? Now that you mention, it isn't crazy if she was, cuz she was a samurai, and many samurai are way too far from being as cool as you, but I would expect— I mean, I should probably shut up, cuz I don't wanna bash on your mother, that would be wrong and—"

"My mother was a samurai, yes" He cut him off to save him from his own words. "I believe her good intentions don't reflect in the name she gave me. But it was the values behind the name what it ought to evoque"

"But why name you that, and not as the rabbit?"

"That's the point, that rabbit doesn't have a name. Nothing matters about him but what he did. Think of it as the Komusō, monks of nothing, they wander the land with a 'basket' on their heads"

"I think I get it?"

"She didn't want it to be about me, but what I should be a samurai, a humble servant, that I should lack ego just like a Komusō"

"But how is pretentious"

"Because it is a statement. it proclaims the virtue expected of me as a Samurai. When you talk out loud about your virtues for everyone to hear how righteous you are, it becomes disingenuous. Having no name on my own, beyond the most basic of my existence, being a rabbit, brings me closer to being myself beyond my reality… although, thinking like that isn't pretentious as well?"

Leo pondered his thoughts staring, maybe with too much intensity, at the raw egg inside the bowl. "Dude… I was name after after a color and a painter … and I only know one of his works"

He now felt genuinely interested in that new information. "Which one?"

"The sunflowers"

Usagi blinked, trying to place an image of a painting he had never seen, an artist he had never heard of. How different could his technique be? How unique can his strokes be? How many will be the lucky ones who have been able to lay their eyes on something so special. However, the only thing he could be sure of was that despite everything, even on the other side of the world there would be an artist with a noble soul, painting all kinds of beauty, as the flowers were. "Those are pretty flowers"

"Yeah…" He mumbled, "Tell me your name again?"

"Ugh, please no!"

"Oh common! I wanna learn it!"

"But why!"

"... I just want to!" Leo whined.

Usagi kept her voice neutral despite the slight frustration. "I won't let you use it against me"

Leo gave in and Usagi saw once again that fragile glimpse of bitterness on his eyes, and the sight gave him a little pain to his heart "Your mom must have been something else… to give you a name like that"

He looked at the table, suddenly interested in the stains and gouges in the battered wood. "She wanted me to be a good man…"

"She can be proud…" The wistful edge to his voice was unlike Leo, but he didn't seem to be lying when he said it. Though his gaze was still on the bowl, playing with his chopsticks.

"Are you going to eat that?" Usagi asked, unsettled by the intense look at the raw egg, still in the bowl. Leo disappeared before giving Usagi a chance to reply. Not tonight, as any other night, perhaps it was time to go back to the abandoned shrine he was staying in, or just start planning how he should earn money again. At last he ended the raw egg's misery and ate it in one go and folded Leo's hakama to save it inside his kimono.

He was about to get ready to leave when he heard the thud of coins falling next to him, he looked down to see his purse was quite full and its thief standing with her little sister to one side.

"The soba was good," she simply said with a smile.

"Cheers to that" Usagi swung the half-empty bottle of sake at her. With a resigned sigh, he grabbed his purse and tucked it into the folds of Leo's hakama.

"You're friend is funny," Kiyoko giggled. She took a seat on the other side of the bench while Spot sniffed at her. "You know every kind of person! He seems nice… But he's a bit rowdy"

A fist hit the table hard. A huge dog stood like a wall baring his fangs, looking down at him. Usagi had a few theories as to what her problem with him might be."Ronin!".

[batcavescolony]

I feel like people aren't getting it. In. The. Books. Perseus. Jackson. Is. An. Unreliable. Narrator. This goes for everything he thinks. Percy loves his mother, so he writes her praises. In the show we get to see what Sally does from an outside POV not filtered through a child that idolizes his mother. It's not ooc for Sally to act like she does in the show. she's a single mother raising a neurodivergent, Demigod, and she's scared that when the Gods get to him they'll corrupt him. She's not suddenly a girl boss we're getting to see her for how she is.

[vibatu]

“Hope. A strange concept, after so long seeing myself as the agent of ruin.

Oh. Oh.

So that's some piece of a crumb over why Kuras is so "curious" about the MC.

"-Few would cling to life so resolutely"

Hope has become such a foreign concept to him after so long, especially looking at the current state of Eridia, oh I'm gonna be sick.

[yusuke-of-valla]

The thing about mean rivals is that like there's kinda a reason we stop having them the second the plots started getting world-ending in scope and that's because you do not have time to deal with some whiny asshole who you've beaten over and over again's shit when a space chinchilla is about to suffocate everyone in the region

Like if they're a dick to you the entire way through they quickly become all bark and no bite because narratively they're going to keep losing to you, and again progressively destroying the ego of a small child is second to whatever this year's eldritch abomination is (and if they went so far as to help the eldritch abomination it raises questions about why they're friendly enough to battle you in the post game).

So like. It's simpler if they're just nice? And have arcs where the fact that they keep losing to you is the point? Your rival isn't the final boss anymore you don't have to build up to finally being able to defeat them for good (except not really) (I guess Hau in USUM arguably but LBR the final boss is Ultra Necrozma)

Like I guess I get annoyed when people don't acknowledge there's a point to how the rivals have been handled since gen 3. You don't have to like it per se but there's a reason the rivals are like this and it's not just the devs don't want to upset little kids.

The fact that the adults care about your safety on the other hand...

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - General Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons and analysis on Forget Me Not as a character and other related things.

this post was brought to you by me, procrastinating on the second part of the Cover analysis and those yandere Pavia headcanons, and ALSO because mister lawrence cavendish jr is the second target for my brainrot

warning for suicide and self-harm themes!

On the subject of Forget Me Not's name and past.

It's Lawrence Cavendish Jr. Forget Me Not's real name is confirmed to be just that, as seen in this specific excerpt:

"Cavendish Jr, who was still alive and once sat in front of you [...]" which alludes to the dinner Vertin had at the Walden with Druvis III and Forget Me Not, and "'Forget Me Not', what a hilarious, stupid name". I only included this because I've seen people wonder about it.

What I mean to tackle in this point is the relationship between Forget Me Not, his origins and his current chosen name. Despite his calm and collected appearance, it becomes clear that Forget Me Not is one hair away from becoming entirely deranged, especially when confronted with the possibility of getting revenge. But why is Forget Me Not so focused on revenge specifically?

His backstory is not as openly laid out for us to read, but we can gleam some bits and pieces from all the documents and dialogue he has. To understand Forget Me Not, we also need to look at Druvis III.

All throughout chapter 02, we see parallels and connections being drawn between Forget Me Not and Druvis III - both of them appear to be extremely aloof, cold and collected, only to be revealed to be very emotional deep down, for better and for worse. Druvis III is initially defined by the neutrality and inertia that comes with being stuck in the past, while Forget Me Not is initially defined by the neutrality of the Walden and his ties with Manus Vindictae, an organization that rejects the future.

Druvis III is a disgraced, fallen noble whose life wasn't ruined by the fire that took her family, but the perception the world had of her, an image they forced onto her due to their hatred towards arcanists. And Forget Me Not has a family surname "buried in the dust, shot dead in history". A disgraced, fallen noble implied to have struggled with poverty, battling hunger and suicide countless of times. In the "··· Formula: 1920s" document, we can see a few pieces from various people and their opinions on Forget Me Not from the Big Mouth Bulletin. 3 out of 4 want him dead or think of him as a monster - entirely because of his existence as an arcanist.

The similarities are obvious. Hell, both share the theme of flora and plants, too. There is an even more subtle dynamic here too, alluding to the game's prominent religious imagery - Vertin's suitcase being compared to an ark that will brave the "Storm", the last supper moment, Arcana's offering, the orange, being a replacement for the apple of Eden...

And then, Forget Me Not association with snakes, rumoured to have a body covered in scales, with an arcanum skill that allows people to indulge in alcohol during the Prohibition Era - the snake that tempted Adam and Eve. Druvis III is associated with forests, trees, as well as a link between Vertin (the good guys) and Manus Vindictae (the bad guys) - the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The two go hand in hand and are linked together.

The big difference between them is that their respective quests to set things "right" are entirely different - their "revenge" is not the same. Druvis III was hellbent on finding out who set the fire that killed her family, not because she wanted them to face the consequences, but because in doing so, people would finally leave her alone and let her mourn. She could finally move on from something that she knew the truth of. Forget Me Not does it to feel satisfied with himself and get back at everyone who ever looked down on him or wronged him. To inflict as much as pain unto others as he had received before. It's a powerplay fantasy in which he finally wins, against all odds.

It's unclear what truly happened to the Cavendish that caused Forget Me Not to end up in such conditions, to the point where he'd go as far as make sure no one can trace him back to his family, to the point where not even the Foundation has a proper report on him.

But there is one line in particular that lives rent free in my head when it comes to the Cavendish and Forget Me Not's potential relationship with them.

This takes place after Druvis III loses her forest, after she loses her eternal branch because of Vertin's intervention during their dinner. They're talking about how to use her forest to build a refugee camp.

There's the possibility that Forget Me Not is simply alluding to that forest - something that used to belong to her is now something that he should have for the sake of Manus Vindictae's goals.

But! Indulge me for a second! There's a noticeable pause, there's a subtle tone to his voice. Reverse 1999's writing might be confusing at times due to the translation, but it's easy to see that it's loaded with metaphors, hidden meanings and so much more, to the point where reading deeply into everything most characters' say is pretty much the norm.

The dialogue that precedes that specific line is Forget Me Not insisting that he can transfer the ownership of the woods over to Druvis III anytime, because she has always been and will always be the only owner, no matter what. He does this to convince her to go through with Manus' plans, that's his main goal, he doesn't care about the woods. But that single line pictured above? It could mean so much more.

Again, the two share many, many similarities. So when Forget Me Not talks about what Druvis III once had - a prestigious family business, a name people can recognize, an assured future - is what he should have, it evokes a sense of entitlement and lingering resentment. Almost as if Forget Me Not's desire to go back to the past doesn't stem from nostalgia like her, but to reclaim something that was denied to him.

Which is incredibly ironic to me because both of them carried their family in their names - Druvis THE THIRD. Lawrence Cavendish JUNIOR. And yet, the one that worked so hard to obscure his origins and changed his family name was him.

Neither of these characters can be recognized nor traced back to their families by appearance alone - people need a name or a really good memory to truly recognize them. The only one with enough courage to continue carrying such burden is Druvis III. Forget Me Not wants something that he willingy lost the right to the moment he allowed Lawrence Cavendish Jr. to die and fade into obscurity.

The name "Forget Me Not" begins to sound more ironic. Like an order, a threat or the promise of his return - his desire for revenge and his hypocrisy become clear once you begin to dissect his character. Like the narrator in the "To Lawrence Cavendish" document says: "He is patiently waiting... to put his meanness, craziness and quivers under the sun". He's waiting to reveal himself.

The "stage" is shown when he makes people explode from inside out, a lot of people who recognized him as Forget Me Not, the mixologist. This is when we finally see his true intentions and the main difference between him and Druvis III, all in their respective reactions to the journalists.

She's terrified, thinking about the day of her family's funeral. On the other hand, he's ordering them to watch and record as he "takes everything he has been deprived of".

This is why the thing that breaks Forget Me Not is hearing that Druvis III does not care about the man who started the fire, that it's not important anymore. He believed them to be on the same page, that she would love to torture the single person responsible for all of her grief. The guy is projecting heavily onto Druvis III.

In the end, I don't know if Forget Me Not resents his father, his family name, if he had some sort of business to inherit and a "future" that was taken from him, or if they actually might've been a happy family.

What I do know is that Forget Me Not's desire for revenge was absolutely amplified and fueled by Manus Vindictae's own agenda. And that's why he works perfectly as both a victim of their MO and a willing member within their ranks.

He clings so hard to the past because there is no future worth fighting for, because everything would be much better if it was rebuilt from scratch with only those that won't oppose him and repeat history. He clings so hard that his new name and identity are, in the end, a plea for the world not to forget who he used to be and, at worst, an order because he sure as hell hasn't forgotten all the things others have done or said Back when Lawrence Cavendish Jr was around. Once his family outlived their usefulness or relevance within society.

TLDR: THIS is the cold-blooded, numb murderer who is actually very sad, empty and broken deep inside that some people wanted Pavia to be. Like, he's even sopping wet and sad and asking Vertin to kill him next time they meet.

Which leads us to my next point!

On the subject of Forget Me Not's self-destructive and suicidal mindset.

We've talked about Forget Me Not's views and relationship with the Cavendish - but what exactly is the end goal? He feels entitled to a better life, one he was supposed to have, and then what?

The "???" narrator mentions a woman who made a promise to Forget Me Not, as well as leaving a "sarcoma" behind which he then adapted and turned into his own. This woman is implied to be Arcana, as we see her talk to Vertin about being able to see the truth, to not be blinded - there's an emphasis in the way she recruits people by opening their eyes to reality. The sarcoma is the city (apparently "Windy City" is used to refer to Chicago, I had to google that but hey, that's pretty neat!). It's the world he lives in and that wants him gone. She focused Forget Me Not's grief towards it because in doing so, it would help Manus Vindictae's ideals of a world exclusively for pureblooded arcanists.

And even so, he remained suicidal. There was at least one more attempt at taking his own life, and that's when he saw "what had been on his mind". Whatever that might've been, no doubt influenced by Arcana and his situation, is what pushed Forget Me Not to "allow himself to revenge, revenge, re-re-re-revenge, and to die".

Ultimately, Forget Me Not's goal is to die at the end of it all - even after he gets his revenge, earns the life he wanted, takes back everything that was meant for him. This is why, after he's fully defeated, his last words to Vertin are to show no mercy next time they meet. To kill him.

This is not only a long and convoluted plan of revenge, it's Forget Me Not willingly marching into his own demise. And just like before, he's not strong enough to pull the trigger himself. Now that he has no solid argument to justify his anger - all because Druvis III has shown him that people can, in fact, move on - his only option is to have someone else end his life. He's shown tired, and the phrase "Don't save it no more" might indicate that even if there was someone who could repeat what Arcana did to him - give him a sense of purpose and a target for his grief - he simply doesn't have the energy for that.

Forget Me Not's self-destructive tendencies can also be seen in other ways. His job at The Walden is to cater to all the people who shunned him - he welcomes everyone and anyone for the sake of creating a network of secrets, he attends fancy parties and events full of those who call him a drug dealer, Satan's spawn and so much more. And he pretends to be someone else entirely while wishing for others to remember him. He willingly surrounds himself with all the things that hurt him.

His arcanum being related to alcohol is rather poetic to me - since Forget Me Not is said to have spiraled into decadence and into this extreme mindset, it makes sense that his main skill is related to being intoxicated and to drown into something that is largely hated but at the same time, desired and coveted. The Prohibition Era does have a very similar mentality to religion, namely western ideologies - you're meant to openly reject and loathe something, but the constant repression causes you to yearn for it instead. And at some point, this repression can become an addiction in itself, leading some to indulge in it. This loops back to Forget Me Not's association with the snake in the Garden of Eden.

It makes sense to me that he indulges in something so painful, while cohercing others into indulging in forbidden alcohol. That he later uses this very same arcane skill to kill all those people who, in his eyes, represent everything he loathes about the current state of the world. It's like a sarcoma that he now leaves behind, that kills from inside out.

And this is the last time I'll bring up Druvis III in a Forget Me Not post, but notice their choice of flower/plant? She has a mistletoe bouquet - a parasitic and toxic plant which represents positive things such as fertility, life and protection in many different cultures. Forget Me Not has black roses, roses being immediately recognized as one of the most beautiful flowers but, in this context, symbolizing things such as death and rebirth, remembrance, mourning. Their duality, contrast and the "two-faced" aspect is prominent there. And not to get very deep about character design, but Druvis III holds the bouquet very carefully and carries it around with her willingly, whereas the black roses that Forget Me Not wears wrap around his neck not unlike a noose.

To really drive home how Forget Me Not sees himself, here's the description they gave him for his boss fight.

They boil down his character perfectly, to all the little traits that make up his whole emotional baggage.

And to also put more emphasis on how Forget Me Not truly doesn't expect to live and "win" at the end of this whole revenge trip, here's his ultimate - "Heavengazing from Hell". He's fully aware that he's going to be destroyed by his own actions and that the only thing left for him will be to look up at heaven from hell. That all the good things will forever be out of his reach.

Now, onto proper headcanon territory, since I'm running out of media to analyze!

On the subject of Forget Me Not's scales.

As established before, Forget Me Not is associated with snakes - one of the segments from the Big Mouth Bulletin comments on this. "[...] he had scales under those long sleeves, one next to another embedded in his flesh."

And this can actually be seen on his in-game sprite! It's very faint, but there's absolutely some sort of texture peeking out from under his collar and sleeves that resemble scales. They can also be seen on the trailer animations. The only time these scales don't appear or peek out from his clothes are in The Walden illustration, with the other members of Manus Vindictae, but that can easily be explained as him covering up properly and the angle he's drawn in.

Originally I thought that they could be burn scars, as it would mean a stronger connection between him and Druvis III. But upon closer inspection, they don't look like burn scars at all.

I like to headcanon that it's a side-effect from his own arcanum, similar to how Rabies is implied to look like a scarecrow because of his involvement treating rabies. Being something "self-inflicted" - in the sense of him having the choice to stop and heal, but refuses to - also lines up with Forget Me Not's suicidal tendencies, the whole sarcoma metaphor and the fact that by carrying on like this, he's doing nothing but destroy himself and add to his suffering.

As for how far the scales have extended, I don't have a set favorite idea! Part of me really would love it if the scales coiled around his body like actual snakes, but also the idea of him having different patches of scales scattered throughout (again, like a sarcoma) and the third secret option of him being MOSTLY covered in them to the point where it becomes grotesque, something that he can't even look at.

They're not just a tattoo or pattern embedded onto his skin either - they're actual scales, cold and rough to the touch. The areas affected by this have grown numb, making it hard for Forget Me Not to feel any warmth or pressure applied onto them. This adds to that otherworldly and sinister vibe he's got going on, even if the lack of proper tactile sense irritates him. It's extremely uncomfortable if they're brushed or rubbed in the wrong direction, however!

Sometimes, Forget Me Not might pick at the scales, as if deciding whether he loves or hates them. In particularly bad days, he picks them out. I like the idea that, once picked, the scales grow faster and stronger, as well as in broader areas, making it a perpetual loop of picking them off from his skin.

Overall, it would be extremely easy to conceal them - he only needs a shirt with a higher collar and gloves or some make-up, but I like to think that Forget Me Not loves the idea of someone catching a glimpse of them, a reminder that he's dangerous and so much more than meets the eye.

As much as he he's been affected by the stigma against arcanists, he now thrives in their hatred for him and his existence - sneaking into places he knows he's not welcome is addictive, especially knowing everyone tolerates him because he's their only access to alcohol. The way everyone will turn around and talk shit about him once they're out of The Walden is fun, because it reinforces his views on why this current era deserves to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Forget Me Not has extremely poor eyesight.

I know the glasses look thin and pretty standard, but I just like to think that Forget Me Not can't see shit without them.

He has this habit of taking them off to "clean" them whenever he's talking with those he loathes - mostly humans - just so he doesn't have to look at them directly. Sometimes, he might just close his eyes and dissociate, pretending to pay attention if the situation calls for it. Yes, he's petty and hateful enough to feel physically sick when talking to people he hates.

If you pay enough attention, it becomes clear that eye contact becomes scarce, as if just looking at them will send him into a fit of rage (but he conceals it extremely well when needed).

Forget Me Not's poor eyesight is not a secret, and he often likes to make patrons nervous by making their drinks without his glasses - of course, he knows his way around drinks and potions, there's no chance of him messing up, he could do this with his eyes closed. But seeing customers squirm is such a delight. Because now, they must choose between making a scene in HIS territory or risk being poisoned with a poorly-made drink.

I like to think that he also just has a very fine ear, since he does play instruments (all of his attacks being related to music and him using a piano as his wand during the boss fight). So really, Forget Me Not couldn't care less about his eyesight.

Forget Me Not enjoys floral arrangement.

This is just based on his association with the actual forget me not flower. I think he enjoys creating bouquets or putting up vases full of flowers around his home, even if all of them may end up creating a very gloomy and decadent atmospere - they're perfect for funerals, and he simply may be preparing for his own.

And he leaves them out on display long after they've wilted. "They're more beautiful this way", he'd say.

It's not rare to find Forget Me Not on rainy afternoons with a pair of scissors on hand, absentmindedly cutting every leaf and petal off from all these roses, as if he had a personal vendetta against their colorful hues. Sometimes, he just twirls the stem around, pressing hard on the thorns to feel anything while he looks out the window. He's so very fucking dramatic and volatile.

Basically, I like to picture Forget Me Not as the type of person who has dedicated so much time into something as empty as revenge, that he absolutely has no idea what to do outside of that.

Everything he does is just a way to pass the time until he can go back to dedicate every waking second of his life into his and Manus Vindictae's plans, every "little pleasure" is just a façade, he doesn't get any real enjoyment from anything. Sometime he worries that revenge won't help him climb out of this apathetic life he's built for himself, but he can't afford to dwell too much on that possibility. Everything that he does is muscle memory, he's forcing himself to try and do it, because otherwise he could simply sit still in an empty room for hours on end, with the lights turned off, waiting and waiting - all alone with his thoughts.

[arcadekitten]

how would you feel if someone like matpat made a theory on your game series?

matthew patthew

I guess where I stand right now is I feel like...indifferent I suppose? Just as long as people don't treat a theory like it IS canon before I've said or done anything or finished whatever I'm working on

[tattooyeol]

I think maybe my favorite thing about Doctor Slump is how the characters will sometimes react in a way you don't entirely understand and then later the show takes care to establish specific moments, hurts and situations that explain exactly why the character struggles with this pattern of behavior or this fear etc.

It's shows how intimately the writers understand these characters and it's why the mains feel so fleshed out and alive

[miabrown007]

at least we now know that neither Marinette or Adrien are aware of him being a senti. after the S3 final we all assumed Adrien knew Rena Rouge and Carapace's identity, because it was so evident: cue Rocketear. after Félix and Kagami's theater kid nonsense we all thought Marinette finally knew Hawkmoth's identity, because how could she not? : cue Confrontation.

almost makes it look like our main characters are not allowed to learn or deduct anything that isn't explicitly spelled out for them

[ectonurites]

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR. KEVIN PHILLIPS

also, honorable mention to the original script for this scene:

[imelht]

Metadede Week. Day Two. First Meeting.

——————————————————————————

“… … …”

Silence. Save for the wind which blew. Save for the king’s thoughts, which weighed heavy on his mind.

“… … …”

It was an abnormally cloudy day in Dreamland. Shadows fell over and about buildings in unconventional fashions. No one seemed to be outside at the moment, despite it still being early in the day… no one at all, but one.

The penguin king stepped outside, on a rather generously sized balcony which stemmed from the side of his castle. He peered over the mountains which so surrounded the mighty establishment, alone with only his thoughts to nag him. The golden circlet which held his crown together lacked its usual shine, much to the doings of the thick, dark-colored clouds above.

He stood silently. Not a word to himself, not an utterance to the scene about him.

Nothing.

This was King Dedede, the courageous, the fierce-some. The mighty penguin king of Dreamland.

He stood tall, tugging at the band that bound his stomach lightly. Feathers a rich azure blue in hue, his eyes were of a corresponding color, while his feet and beak a dandelion yellow in contrast. By looks alone the man was of a royal caliber. (Or perhaps that was only due to his routine.) Though, in contrast to his royal, tip-top nature, one might come to recognize the undeniably prominent southern tint to his voice, and his rather… gluttonous and boisterous aptitude, though, despite this, he was still very much a king at heart. Coincidentally, the king came to be dressed in a sumptuous red robe with a lofty, cloud-like accentry, his very insignia he sported on both the back of his robe, and on his mallet, which he’d always on hand.

Over the years, he would come to be a kind, and empathetic king, and he would grow to love each and every single one of his loyal subjects, those being the Waddle Dees. He’d countless of the orange, horizontally asymmetrical, mouth-less creatures. Each one he’d grown to love, and for any one of them, he’d sacrifice his very well being…

Though at this moment, that was not of principle concern. The clouds were dull in color, sharply contradicting the multitudinous, and spirited colors of Dreamland. The King knew something was up, and it was not just those clouds in the sky…

He knew what he had to do, and he had to do it now, or never.

… … …

Late into the night, the King had snuck out with deft footsteps, and managed out of the grandiose castle. The city of Dreamland was now at utter rest, the lights of homes put out, not a soul in sight. All were asleep, all but one… that one being King Dedede, and he’d taken a visit to the legendary Fountain of Dreams.

The fountain ran with its usual waters, however, the fountain’s activity seemed off to the King. King Dedede had taken many a trip to the fountain, especially when his mind plagued him. He was no new face to possession, namely by the forces of Dark Matter. The King sat on the lip of the fountain, his sights on the Star Rod as it sat upright in the center of the monument.

He averted his sights and peered into the waters as he normally did, allowing his thoughts to rush his mind like a flood, though this time the waters, opposite of stagnant, rippled. They betrayed a scary sight, a wizard with sharp spectacles and a whirling body. He’d sharp fingers, and a sinister demeanor. The wizard smiled with his teeth, each sharp but perfectly locked together, and he pulled his cape about his body to conceal it. Dedede, who would rather have not set his sights on the wizard, attempted to pull away, but instead, was seized in the wizard’s powerful mental hold, and physically brought forcibly to the water’s surface.

When his hands did not feel the usually shallow bottom of the fountain… he freaked out.

He felt his heart as if a lump in his throat, and in his stunned state he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He flailed his arms, seeking out of the water as he was near pulled in entirely. The wizard himself did not verbalize anything, rather, he stared… he stared deep into what was the King’s soul, and the King could almost feel himself again being pulled into the rippling waters of the now dark fountain.

He shouted, or… he thought he did. He felt himself begin to sweat, or was that just the water that had splashed into his face during the ordeal…? His breathing hastened as he corrected his pose, managing his arms out of the water after he’d been pulled physically towards it. He struggled against the mental snare of the Wizard with shallow breaths, as the taunting grin of the wizard seemed to remind him of how weak he was... The wizard beckoned Dedede to him, and the King could feel himself losing again what control he’d over himself.

He loathed losing his mind to some outside entity… to Dark Matter. He hated the torment it brought. To lose the will but not the conscious… it was utterly petrifying for the King. He strived to fight against it, but the external forces always managed to trump his will…

He wanted to cry out again in the midst of it all, but he remained determined. He grit his teeth, though he felt his mind once again facing a slip. He tensed up with the rest of his remaining strength, until he was pulled away from the fountain by a pair of hands at his sides, his pupils were wild, his feathers, bristled, his crown lopsided from his earlier tumble. He turned promptly, wide-eyed to the one who’d managed him away from the wizard’s unrelenting hold on him…

His eyes widened a tad further when he laid his sights on the one who had practically saved him. He was met with a short, masked, orb-shaped puffball. His skin was dark in coloration. He’d amber eyes and a steel mask, which covered the entirety of his face, save for a visor which permitted his eyes to see through it. He had pauldrons and sported a flowing red cape which he held across his body in one hand.

He looked like a little knight. The King tilted his head, now calming down from the previous events that had transpired.

“W-Who… are you?” The King stammered, his voice shaking a slight bit, but his nerves soon faded.

The mysterious man spoke up, in a much deeper tone Dedede would’ve thought.

“My name…? Well, if I may, I insist on keeping it in the down low.“ He responded, hesitantly.

“Do you… have a name?”

The swordsman was silent.

“I’ll take that as a no, for now.” *He paused, eyeing the swordsman before him. “It’s no matter. I’m sure ya know who I am at least.” He assumed, the arrogance laced in his tone and radiating from his newly stricken pose.

After a moment of silence he was met with a quiet, “I am unaware…” from the bystander.

The King’s jaw nearly dropped at this. He turned back to him, a more honest face, this time.

“You seriously don’t know…?”

“Why would I?” The swordsman replied, not without a genuine lack of knowledge.

“Well… I jus’ assumed you would… is all…” The King mumbled, though he perked himself back up. “I’m the King of these lands, Dedede is my name.”

“A pleasure to meet you… King Dedede.” The swordsman accompanied this acknowledgment with a bow, his red cape catching in the breeze.

“It’s nice tah meet you as well, mister swordsman.”

“You may just refer to me as sir, for now.”

The King laughed lightly. “Right right.” Then he’d a thought. “Ah! You uh… you saved me back there…”

“I did, in fact.” The swordsman affirmed.

“Well… what brought you ‘ere?” Dedede questioned, tilting his head.

“I heard your scream.” The swordsman stated, as a matter-of-factly.

“Well, yeah… but…” He tried to think of something else to ask the mysterious swordsman for the sake of learning more about him, even if it wasn’t much, but found nothing, so he offered his thanks instead.

“Well, I thank ya… truly…” He replied, cutting of his prior train of thought.

“Don’t mention it.” Was all the small swordsman said in reply before simply walking away.

That was, until Dedede called him, with a slightly begging tone.

“Wait!” Dedede implored, as he honestly didn’t want to see the mysterious man go. He’d found himself oddly captivated by him. He was much different from the rest of Dreamland’s usually bubbly citizens. Something struck him as… different. Many a thing, actually.

The pleading tone of Dedede’s voice struck something within the swordsman. He halted, turning around to face Dedede.

“What is it?” He replied, his deep vocals monotonous.

“Maybe we could… talk some more?” Dedede took a slightly shaky breath. “Ya know… it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to speak with.” He pointed out, feeling a bit of his honor nag him at the admission, though he saw no harm in the idea. After all, he’d just been shaken by what he’d seen in the fountain, and… this man before him struck him as a rather serious fellow, so he’d wager his chances with him.

A moment of silence passed before the man replied, only saying one word.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Dedede’s face lit up a bit with the affirmative answer. He scooted over on the lip of the fountain (as if by habit) and offered the man to sit down with him.

The swordsman clutched his red cape after only a moment of hesitation, and approached the lip of the fountain. Climbing (not without very slight struggle) to sit on it, he sat a fair distance away, but still in reasonable speaking distance. He folded the cape neatly in his lap, and turned towards the much larger man.

“Ready.” He announced. Though Dedede thought there was no need. The man had intriguing habits, but he didn’t implore further regarding them.

“Well…” Dedede started, “Are ya new here, by chance? To Dreamland?”

“No. I have been living around here for a bit of time already. We just have not happened to meet, until now.”

“Oh? So… you just so happened to decide to come here? To the Fountain of Dreams?”

“Well, yes…” The swordsman admitted.

“So… you came ‘ere, not because of me, I know that… so… that means it musta’ been by your own whim, huh?” Dedede rose a brow, though this gesture was not in accusation.

“Well, yes… I actually visit this Fountain on a reoccurring basis.”

“Then… why ‘aven’t I seen ya?”

“It must have simply been chance.” The swordsman stated, his tone still bland of any change whatsoever.

“Hm… I guess so.” Dedede conceded, agreeing with the very slight chance that which the swordsman said was right. It seemed most probable.

“…and you? Why are you here?” The swordsman questioned, his tone alone did not betray his curiosity, rather… the slight tilt of his head did.

Dedede sat back a bit, hands still holding tightly the rim of the fountain.

“I… I came here to act somethin’ out. A plan.”

“Hm?” The swordsman hummed in slight confusion, clearly not getting what very vague “plan” Dedede could have possibly been alluding to.

“Well… you see…” Dedede hesitated.

“I was going to take the Star Rod, and break it.”

“And… why would you do that?” The deep voice rang out again, monotone, yet… subtly questioning.

“Ya see… earlier I noticed somethin’ was up with the clouds in the sky. They were awfully dark. It was highly unconventional of Dreamland’s usual.”

The swordsman stayed quiet, not betraying whether or not he too noticed this phenomenon.

Though in the midst of this silence Dedede pressed on with his plan.

“So I came ‘ere to check up on the Fountain, and… it turns out it’s been corrupted.”

“Corrupted, you say?” This captivates the swordsman, despite his utterly dead tone.

“Yes. Or so I believe… I did see an entity I don’t usually lurkin’ in the waters…” The King drew a deep breath, recalling the figure.

“That was before you saved me.” He added, looking at the swordsman, who was clutching his cape, staring right back at him with his dull yellow eyes from beneath the mask. Dedede could almost… feel his interest in the whole thing. This prompted him to ask what was on his mind.

“So… have ya any sort of knowledge on what’s goin’ on?”

“Maybe I do.” The swordsman paused, before speaking again.

“Tell me about the “figure” you saw in the waters tonight. It seemed to have quite the effect on you, King Dedede.” He spoke as if he was speculating something.

“Well, it was some wizard with… sharp glasses and a starry cloak. He’d a taunting smile and wicked fingers…” He answered, turning to the swordsman.

“Have any idea?”

The swordsman was silent, before speaking.

“That which you saw in the fountain… it was undeniably Nightmare. He is a powerful wizard with dark magic at his disposal, not to mention mind manipulation and corruptive tendencies.”

This was what Dedede was looking for.

“Oh really? So ya know about that guy?”

“Well… yes…” The swordsman fessed, fidgeting with his cape a bit.

Dedede, utterly oblivious to the swordsman’s slight restlessness regarding the topic, dwelt on the matter at hand. “Hm… that’s better than nothin’ I guess! I appreciate the information.” Dedede replied, jumping up slightly, pressing on with his idea.

“So, as I was sayin’, I was going to take the Star Rod and divide it amongst some trusted members so that we might be granted a chance against this… “Nightmare” guy.” He continued, looking back at the swordsman every so often, to keep his interest.

“Mhm.” The swordsman nodded, humming in acknowledgement of his plan.

In analytic thought, he nodded, seeming content with the King’s plan.

“What you have devised proves not unsound.” The swordsman admitted, a hint of respect in the way he worded his admission.

“Why, thank you.” Dedede seemed proud himself, and he stood up, hand on hip, his robe trailing gently behind his massive frame.

“Now… just to getting to the Star Rod…” He took a pensive look at the clouded waters, and bit his beak a bit in slight nervousness.

“Is everything… alright?” The deep voice inquired suddenly. It caught Dedede off guard.

“Oh! Uhm… yes… sorry…”

“No need to apologize.”

“Ah! Right…” Dedede chuckled nervously.

The swordsman watched as Dedede turned to step through the waters, his foot managed to touch the shallow flooring of the fountain… and he found it odd how his hands couldn’t locate it earlier during his struggle. Nonetheless, he managed to the Star Rod, and claimed it off the center of the Fountain, though, as soon as he did the waters gained a more violent tendency, and they rippled, crashing about him, drenching his torso’s feathers and his robe. He yelped at the feeling of his movements increasing in difficultly as the waters tried to keep him, and he trudged through with strain. The King felt as if the water was gripping at his feet, attempting to pull him into the dark abyss that seemed to overtake the fountain. Slipping, his nerves overtook him, but a gloved hand caught his, and yanked him from the waters.

Again, Dedede gathered his nerves on hands and knees, turning his head to see that the swordsman had saved him once again.

“Thanks…”

“No need to mention it.” The swordsman dismissed. “I am simply doing what is fitting of a knight.”

Dedede’s eyes seemed to betray his loss of concentration on outwardly matters… he entered a bout of thought, pondering the knight before him…

“Knight”. He’d not any of those yet… he wondered what it would be like to have a knight in his kingdom. He’d loyal subjects and soldiers sure, but a knight? A real knight? No… not yet, at least… not yet…

“Hello?” The deep voice yet again caught the King off guard, causing him to snap out of his bout of thought.

“Ah. Er… sorry again.”

“No need.” The swordsman dismissed the apology again, with a light tone.

“You are alright though, yes?” He wanted to make sure.

“Yes.” Dedede confirmed. “…Thanks to you.” He added.

The swordsman’s cape caught the wind slightly, and danced in it.

“No need to mention it.” He replied, again, not letting emotion seep into his vocals.

“Yeah yeah…” Dedede droned lightly, smiling. Then he had an idea.

“Hey… uh… you know what…? Maybe…” Dedede paused, holding the now fragmented Star Rod in one hand, then looking up at the swordsman.

“Do you want to be a keeper of a piece?”

“Me?” The swordsman’s tone betrayed very slight… surprise.

“Yes you. Do you want to hold one of the pieces for me?”

The swordsman dwelt on his decision for a second. Instead of further questioning him, he took up the role.

“It would be an honor.” The swordsman clearly meant every word, this task, to him, was now regarded with utmost seriousness.

“Then the piece is yours, swordsman. Keep it safe from Nightmare, and let it never be reconnected with the shards of its kin.”

Dedede paused, ensuring the weight of the moment.

“Do you promise to keep it safe for me?” Dedede asked, his eyes a bit wide with seriousness.

“I promise.” The swordsman said in reply, clutching the glowing shard in his hand.

“Good. Then… farewell to you, swordsman.”

“… … …”

“May we meet again.” King Dedede dismissed, and the two went their separate ways.

END.

[obstinaterixatrix]

I really like romances that highlights a complex relationship with desire. what’s that one quote. found it, it’s the siken quote that goes “the enormity of my desire disgusts me” and “there’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it” LOVE that. it’s so fun. denial and repression and self-loathing! some of my favorite ingredients for a romance.

[theflyingfeeling]

okay I'm not expecting anyone to care all that much, but I was looking at the prompts for the 18th Day of Gift-Giving for my Olli/Allu fic advent calendar and I'm between two options on what to do with them, so if anyone out there wants to put in their two cents...

(see the pros and cons in the tags of the original post)

[ghostlysoupcan]

im not even quote unquote a queer elder but remembering 2010 and seeing the sheer leap from queer people being like "yeah we support our queer siblings" and being decently supportive of lesser known identities and then having people 8 years later having dnis for anybody who respects mspec lesbians or gays is....something.

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of the things that’s just so funny and so good about Steve and Nancy is that Nancy really does care about things not just people, like she really is so invested in her girlboss journalism not only because it helps people but also for its own sake and she’s so earnest and deliberate and slow about it and Steve doesn’t give a damn about anything that isn’t the people he loves and Nancy specifically is the dearest thing to him so he’ll try to solve any amount of science puzzles to save her but he never cares about it inherently and idk exactly how to explain it but her careful attention to everything and his quick dismissiveness of most things make for a magical and hilarious combination. 

[obessivedork]

TBH as a writer appreciating the set-up of a character I ADORE Vivienne but her lack of proper character arc & the inability to argue with her more is as infuriating as with most of your companions in DAI, if not more when you play a Mage because you CAN’T grab her by the shoulders and shake her and say Ma’am if you’d had worse luck and wound up literally anywhere other than the Circle you did wind up at you would be a fundamentally different person please for Maker’s sake admit out loud that you only like the Circles because you managed to etch yourself some limited social power out of the broken and corrupt system you might not otherwise have been able to get for yourself and therefore you have not suffered the true effects of it!!!!

[rosemirmir]

Gotchard Spoilers and Theories in a stream of consciousness under the cut

Getting feral over reading the rising fighter English lyrics and connecting potential dots in my head.

The uses of both fire, tomorrow and future, in the lyrics makes me very 👀 since daybreak gotchard is now in the show and looks to be a prominent part of this arc.

Some snippets that have really got my attention:

I was born into this world for a reason When you’re alive you can get the good and the bad Go beyond yesterday Go change the world Ready, go push your heart forward Stand up and take action Move on and look forward Going on until it burns out, let's go Don't stop, it's not over yet No one is truly alone Now is the time to fight

I think the entire opening chorus is worth mentioning, since I feel it describes Hotaro's overall attitude pretty well.

How he's willing to keep on going for his dreams, what he would call his "gotcha!", and pushing through and never giving up along the way. As well as fighting alongside those beside him.

Get it on Gotchard Gotchard Gotchard Burning Fire Gotchard Gotchard Gotchard Shining Future

This part of the chorus really is interesting to look at now given the existence of Gotchard Daybreak looking at this has me thinking as I've been listening to this on repeat since the full version dropped:

Gotchard Daybreak might be Hotaro from the future?

Either that, or some other alchemist from the future. (And there's a lot of possibilities there if it's not a future!Hotaro.)

But even if he is or not, given his one quote about Hotaro grasping the future into his own hands, my guess I he might have come from a future and is trying to make Hotaro change something that must have happened from his time period.

Whoever this is, he has come to steer Hotaro to the right course and help him overcome whatever weaknesses he is still currently dealing with, and finding himself more in general.

He's stronger than he was at the start of the show, but Hotaro definitely still has much more growing he needs to do. Which was also shown in this episode.

Something I've been taking note of is a general theme in Gotchard that looks to be shaping up thus far is: Taking charge of your own future, with your own hands.

Which we can also see parts of this theme present in how Rinne's arc looks to be shaping up. I think even Spanner might potentially get a taste of this theme too...

(Though it's still a bit too soon for me to say with any confidence. We're only now beginning to get more looks into him since his mentor is now part of the picture.)

And I think the lyrics in this song really reflect that theme of grasping the future too.