#I don’t really have a greater point here I just think it’d be neat

[gremoria411]

Really hope the new SD Gundam Game has an Urdr hunt adaptation.

[yeojaa]

( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.

(or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing.  tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  slice of life fluff, light smut.  explicit (but only at the end). 

tags / warnings.  mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc.  7.6k.

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​, @papillonsgf​, and @yeoldontknow​​ 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note.  i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this.  it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless.  as always, feedback means a lot! 

You and forethought aren’t close friends.  You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree.  You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is.  Careful consideration?  Thoughtful patience?  None of that exists for you.  At least, not when you really, really want something. 

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.  

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this.  Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid.  By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.  

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment.  Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to.  When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed.  (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right? 

“Everyone’s fully booked.”  The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial.  (You don’t blame her.)  By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal.  You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue.  “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice?  Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable.  Well-known.  Considered one of the best in the city.  Surely their apprentice would be fine.  Just less seasoned, not as experienced. 

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter.  “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall.  “Last room on the left.  His name’s Jungkook.  His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.”  It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves.  Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told. 

“Jungkook?”  There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight.  (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.)  It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else. 

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting:  one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits.  Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine.  A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall;  one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it.  There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath.  All in all, very homey.  Reminiscent of your own apartment.) 

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space.  “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples. 

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for.  Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.  

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe.  It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin.  “Are you okay?”  He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way.  Good for him, but worse for you. 

He’s so cute.  Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.”  You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete.  “Um— I was told you might have some time?  For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering?  You’re never shy.  Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess.  People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!”  Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder.  He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway.  “Yeah, I’ve got time.  Come in.”  Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek;  the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip;  each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks.  “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no.  You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook?  He was that.  In spades. 

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”  He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table.  It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display.  “I’ve got a pretty big selection.” 

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him.  This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation. 

“So—”  He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen.  You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt.  It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion;  it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles.  He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling.  The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity.  “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.”  It really is.  You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink.  “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question.  Of course it did.  It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally.  “Like crazy, but it was worth it.  This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—”  He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.  

“A piece of cake?”  You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you.  (It doesn’t.  You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap.  “Do any of these interest you?”  He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash.  There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf).  They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.”  It catches your eye more than the others have.  Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines.  A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do.  “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.”  He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled;  you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion.  A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen.  “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy.  Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no.  You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.  

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though.  You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it.  You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life.  There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,”  you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.  

“Do you have your ID?”  You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form.  “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come. 

Alone, the nerves set in.  You’re actually doing this.  Getting a tattoo.  Putting something permanent on your body.  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap.  Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come.  (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.) 

(But had you really made up your mind?  Was this going to be it?  It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise.  It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!”  Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope.  You eye it curiously.  “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”  

He’s really thought of everything.  Or the shop has.  Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?”  It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand.  (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.) 

You hadn’t thought about that.  You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away.  “My arm?”

“Upper?  Forearm?”  There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative.  He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you. 

“Tricep area, I think?  Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.”  Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same.  “I’m kidding.  That was cheesy.  But I’m sure it’ll look fine.  We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?” 

“That sounds good.”  A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement. 

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake:  wearing a turtleneck.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like.  Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon?  Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)? 

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule.  Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside.  Whatever you’d prefer.” 

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill.  You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.  

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way?  He was probably desensitized.)  

“It’s fine.”  You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly.  Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though.  Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater.  It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath.  Two. 

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him.  “All right.  Let’s do this.” 

“So, which arm?”  He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.  

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello. 

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers.  You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.”  It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror.  “It’s so pretty.” 

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face.  “Thanks.”  He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful.  “What do you think?”

“This is it.  Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool.  As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee. 

“All right.  We’ll shave you down and get started.  You like the colours, right?”  Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart.  It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes.  (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.)  He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him.  “Hop on up.  Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace.  It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.  

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?”  You’d misheard that, right? 

“Your skin.  You’re sparkling.”  He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.  

“Oh.”  Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly.  “It’s my soap.” 

“Sparkle soap?”  Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure.  He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before.  (Which, fair.) 

“It’s this specialty holiday soap.  It has pigment in it.” 

“That’s cool.”  He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm.  “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree.  It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does.  Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot.  “Thanks.” 

“Was that weird?  I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.” 

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.  

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle.  “Ready?” 

Honestly, you’re not sure.  Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog.  Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue.  “I think so.” 

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee. 

“All right—”“  The incessant buzzing stops.  Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel.  “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you.  Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.) 

“Can I see?”  You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face. 

“Yeah, go ahead.  Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right.  You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet.  It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you. 

“Careful!”  It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.  

“Sorry, sorry.”  You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede.  Everything straightens out quickly enough.  “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?”  He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall.  “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art.  “I’m fine.”  That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.”  The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open.  Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words,  “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention.  It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours.  It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.  

“You like?”  

“I love.”  You’d stare at it for hours, if you could.  Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie.  “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head.  Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose.  Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into.  “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one.  It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink.  (You half expect him not to answer;  you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.) 

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.  

“So, what’re you thinking?”  

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking.  Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history.  You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece.  “A sleeve?”

That surprises him.  His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously.  “Like, a full sleeve?”  It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable.  “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high.  “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,”  he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea.  “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.”  He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up.  For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing.  (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.)  “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan.  It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there.  He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.  

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”  

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions.  It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin.  A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep.  Another takes up the entirety of your forearm.  There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi.  It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.  

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch.  You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.”  Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap.  “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers.  Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat.  He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up.  Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.  

“You mean we did it,”  you return, giddy like a child.  

“Ah, right.”  The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled.  “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey!  Screw you!”  You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.  

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more.  It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head.  Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow.  You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm.  That in itself had hurt like a biiitch;  you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?”  He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to.  It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.  

“Yes, you are.”  You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares.  This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together.  (Not that you’d complain.  You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful.  “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.  

“Wouldn’t I?  I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”  

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed?  You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation.  Had he mentioned it previously?  Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain?  No, you would’ve remembered that.  You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.”  How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea.  You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway.  Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago.  (God, your memory is good.  If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.)  “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.  

“Gonna miss me?”  

Would it be inappropriate to say yes?  Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question.  You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).  

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own.  “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,”  he answers, offering honesty to your reticence.  “You can still send me funny photos though.”  

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile.  “I guess you’re right.  Will you still be tattooing?”  It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know.  You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.”  Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin.  “Actually, where I got most of mine done.”  You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith.  He’s finally come full circle.  You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.  

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to.  It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.  “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,”  he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair.  It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn.  “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,”  you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder.  You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go.  It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk.  “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”  

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you.  It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available.  (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.)  “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black.  You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.  

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?”  He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to.  (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?)  “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended.  “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”  

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you.  “Hey, I don’t judge.  You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there.  Used your own impulsive history against you.  “I would never.”  

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what?  Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him.  “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth.  There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up.  You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”  

“Really?”  You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face.  “Then why don’t you have one?”  He has a million others as it is:  a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs.  (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)  

“And hide all this?”  One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home.  “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual.  “But I’m cuter.  It’d be a shame if it were me.  You…”  The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean.  (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.)  “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”  

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him. 

“I’m kidding.”  You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries.  A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke.  “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them?  Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was.  Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met.  It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?”  The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.  

Were you?  You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really?  You can’t?”  You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it.  But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously.  It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears.  “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”  

Had he?  Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall.  Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of;  accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff).  Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought.  You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,”  you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.  

“I think you’re cute,”  he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff.  The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week.  The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb.  (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer.  “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.”  Where the confidence comes from, who knows.  You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering.  It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits. 

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go. 

Then he does the last thing you expect:  shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.  

(His lips are so soft.  A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate.  Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him.  French fries and beer and his Chapstick.) 

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.) 

“You just kissed me.”  It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.  

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.”  Speaking the words into existence feels bad;  you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.  

“I am.”  At least he’s realistic.  It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay. 

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose. 

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.  

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next.  (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass.  Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers.  An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,”  the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials.  You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation. 

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof.  The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin.  You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous.  It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left. 

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed.  He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders.  You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,”  he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity.  It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,”  you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped.  You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was.  As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though.  You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow.  He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?”  You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder.  Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again.  (You’re proud of that.  It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”  

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine.  You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness.  Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad.  Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around.  It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper.  He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror.  “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals.  Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care.  Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre.  You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life.  It means so much - like progressing to the next level.  

Which, you suppose it is.  This is a fresh start for you.  A new beginning in a new city.  

“Proud of you,”  he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips.  He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.  

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago.  A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,”  you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.  

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual.  “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that.  You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome.  From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.  

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this:  a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had;  to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.  

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that.  Made it worth it in ways you had never considered.  Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?”  He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself.  It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.  

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.”  The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?”  You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets.  It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that.  He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.  

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised.  “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?”  Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job? 

(It truthfully could be.  You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.”  All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine.  “You don’t like when I admire my own work?”  Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit.  The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need.  (Because you really do need it.  You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.)  It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once. 

“Kook,”  you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.”  He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin.  They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas.  A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care.  Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits.  When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”  

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt.  “I’ve missed this,”  he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.  

“Missed you too,”  you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.  

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​​​ @codeinebelle​ @xjoonchildx​

[algernoninwonderland]

Miraculous’s Paris feels quite impersonal and its geography is incomprehensible most of the time, which makes it difficult to care about it whenever it’s in danger

TL;DR: Paris in Miraculous has a weird geography, and unfortunately, the show doesn’t hide it all that well, which makes it hard to believe in the city as a coherent and cohesive space. Bad lighting and poor texturing makes scenes set outdoors during the day look real bad, and while some of the famous buildings in Miraculous are pretty close to the real thing, they don’t mean much to the viewers emotionally speaking, they don’t elicit a reaction other than “huh, that’s neat”. If your heroes’ mission is to protect a city that’s just “neat”, well it’s pretty hard to care about said mission. 

When you aren’t French and you want to make a show or a film with a scene set in Paris and you want to sell it to an international audience, you put the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre and cafés everywhere. And that’s fine! It’s just a backdrop, you’re not supposed to care about it all that much, because you’re going to spend 2 hours there at most and what’s more, more often than not, Paris is just a decor, not the whole conceit of the film/show.

Miraculous’s version of Paris follows that same logic, weirdly enough, even though it’s made by French people, and initially intended for a French audience. The Eiffel Tower is in a whole lot of shots, we spend a lot of time at the Louvre and near some other touristic landmarks such as the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Grand Palais, the Place des Vosges and the Place du Châtelet alongside the occasional metro station, they’re all decently made, at least they’re recognisable. Good job, you guys! (I’m sincere about that bit of praise, too)

It uses referential elements, i.e. things from the real-life Paris… And mashes them together in a bizarre way. Monuments are way too close to one another, or they are places they shouldn’t be. That, in and as of itself, would be fine. Paris is big. You can’t model every single Parisian street in existence, you have to make choices to stay within your budget. And with Miraculous, it kind of works…? If you don’t think about it too much, that is.

This, for instance (that’s from Animan) doesn’t make any damn sense. The Eiffel Tower should be on the other side of the Seine, not here, and the Place des Vosges isn’t that close to the water. Still, it sort of works, if you haven’t lived in Paris yourself. Which will be the case for most people watching Miraculous. It’s a show about a girl who uses a magical yoyo, so I can excuse that sort of weird stylistic choice due to budget constraints.

So, basically, Miraculous has pretty good individual sets, especially indoors sets,Marinette’s house, Agreste mansion, the school, these cool touristic locations, the Grévin museum, even, but they either feel too close to one another or like they belong to different, disjointed spaces. It’s hard to tell where each location is meant to be in relation with one another, even when our characters travel from one place to another.

And how do they travel? Well, they jump from rooftop to rooftop and the landscape stretches endlessly. Rooftops that all look the same. It’s the exact same "set” every time. That isn’t a bad stylistic choice per say, if the point you want to make is that Paris is really really big and there are lots and lots of houses that all kind of look the same, it’d work really well. It’d make the city feel a little oppressive. But you want Paris to be a space the audience cares about, right? So maybe don’t do that?

The way travelling works in Miraculous is, you jump onto a rooftop, you run you run you run and then you land and you’ve reached your destination. Each trip works the same. Doesn’t help make the various sets feel connected, no, sir. Plus, the Eiffel Tower teleports all over the place.

Can you tell me where Alya’s flat is supposed to be? No, really, can you? It’s a nice art déco building, someone probably went through lots of references to model it and it shows! Nice job, really, I mean it. But where is it?  

Well, it’s in an Autodesk Maya file in a database somewhere, but other than that… You’ll tell me if you ever figure that out, I sure wasn’t able to!

So it’s hard to believe in Paris as a kind of non-fragmented space, even more so when wide shots look like this 

and that tells you everything that can go wrong with Miraculous’s outdoors scenes. (also that shot composition isn’t bad at all but it’s weird for a scene like that)

Copy and paste your assets, benches, trees and houses, and don’t modify them one bit. The thing it, that’s fine in shots in which the camera moves a lot, it works well with certain angles, which is the reason why there are lots of chase scenes that go too fast for you to notice that there aren’t all that many “regular house” models, some with an alternate “café” ground floor which features awnings with three different colours. That’s a trick cartoons like Scooby-Doo already used in the 60s to simulate speed. That’s good when things move!

Only, sometimes you see two awnings with the exact same colour in the same, very still shot that lets you see the street in which the house models alternate in a pattern that is easy to detect. You become truly aware that this is a set created by people that feels very artificial. 

Textures in Miraculous are great when it comes to the character models. For the rest not so much. The really ugly pavement texture you see here…

… looks fine when shot from above but looks like dogshit when the camera is closer to the ground, if I may be so blunt. Everything looks worse in the daytime, because daylight is rendered rather poorly most of the time, and the textures either haven’t loaded properly or aren’t high-res enough. That pavement feels real flat, like a texture, not like pavement. Which isn’t very good. Trees often feel like plastic, dirt doesn’t look like dirt at all, more like sand. Miraculous isn’t going for a photorealistic vibe, nor should it be, but these textures just don’t work very well to represent what they are meant to represent. They seem a little off, just enough for you to notice.

Often, everything looks squeaky clean too. Norman Reynolds of Star Wars fame understood that squeaky clean props and sets and costumes aren’t very convincing and tend to feel cheap, so you need to apply a bit of weathering. And Paris isn’t exactly clean. In Miraculous, most buildings are spotless. They don’t feel like they’ve existed for long despite their 19th century architecture. Are you supposed to feel like this is a story set in a giant dollhouse starring action figures? I’m not sure that was the intended effect, there’s an episode with alive toys and the toy world looks even plasticky-er

(Nighttime scenes, on the other hand, can be really gorgeous. Sapotis’s outdoors scenes are truly magical, it’s a really nice-looking handful of scenes because you get to have a better control on the way your scene is lit. Likewise, most scenes set indoors tend to look quite good because there’s greater control over the lighting sources).

Some spaces feel familiar and friendly, homely, even, namely Marinette’s house, the houseboat to a lesser extent, these are all places you’d hate to see get destroyed, and you get a sense of where they are. Sort of. Ish. But outside of that… There aren’t any memorable streets, most monuments are just that, monumental, important imposing buildings don’t feel personal. There are no charming details about them for the camera to zoom on either. 

Miraculous’s outdoors Paris is a series of more-or-less well-made sets that are loosely connected to one another in a way the audience can’t properly process. You aren’t made to feel attached to most of these sets. Technical issues and a limited budget alongside creative choices to feature iconic touristic landmark rather than having streets that feel more intimate, unique and lived-in means that you can’t really care all that much about Miraculous’s Paris as a place.

And it’s a shame. If these two heroes are fighting to protect a city the audience isn’t made to care about, the stakes are much lower all of a sudden. 

The scene in the New-York special with that helicopter shot of all the destruction caused by Mayura’s amok didn’t feel nearly as impactful as it should have. You really ought to wonder why.

[wordshakerofgallifrey]

Fluff/Angsty Drabble: Gandra breaks down crying, and Fenton does his best to comfort her.

this probably isn't what you were expecting. it certainly isn't what I was expecting but...enjoy??

*

McDuck Lab is way too easy to break into.

The space is still in shambles from the “date” and the subsequent fight with Mark Beaks, but there’s nobody around.

That is, until he hears a sniffle from the far end of the lab.

Fenton pokes his head curiously around the large central column, following the noise. He hadn’t expected anyone to be here so late, that’s why he even bothered to come back.

Under a table, the Suit gathers a stack of papers in her arms, muttering to herself.

"Stupid...Can't believe...Of all the low-life, no-good...Like to shove a nanite-charged ball down his throat..."

Fenton leans his hands against his the table, craning his neck to see her. "Do you always hang out under tables, talking to yourself?"

He winces at the dull thud! as she hits her head against the table when she startles and, a moment later, she emerges, rubbing a spot at the base of her skull, knocking her normally-neat ponytail askew.

Actually, the usually put-together Suit is quite the sight, her black button-down rumpled and a tear in her pressed jeans.

“Ugh, it’s you.” She does her best to scowl at him, even with tears brimming in her bright blue eyes. “Haven’t you done enough today?”

Okay, he probably deserves that. But because he doesn’t really like seeing her cry, but also doesn’t want her to know he doesn’t like seeing her cry, Fenton blusters his way through. “Uh, I did help you with that Beaks guy, didn’t I? Don’t I get points for that?”

“Get points for solving a problem you caused?” she snaps. “No, you don’t.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “What is your problem, Suit—?”

“Stop. Calling. Me. Suit.” she growls out, the tears causing her eyes to flash, almost dangerously. “My name is Gandra, or is that too much for your idiot brain to comprehend?”

He gapes. Even when she'd been mad and yelling at him earlier, she hadn't been so venomous. A part of him is impressed that the Suit—Gandra—actually has the ability to lose her cool like that.

The other, greater part that appreciates keeping his limbs intact, thinks maybe he should put more distance between them.

"Idiot?" Fenton finally mages to get out. "You think I'm an idiot, after everything that's happened today?"

“You want to talk about everything that's happened today? Let's review. You pretended to date me, tried to steal my suit, invited my worst enemy into my lab, and put two kids I happen to be very fond of in danger. I’m under no obligation to be anything resembling nice to you, Fenton,” she spits out, the tears finally spilling over onto her cheeks. She brushes them away impatiently, like she can’t be bothered to cry right now. “So just…get the hell out of here, okay?”

Her words sink in and he’s never felt lower than he does now, watching her valiantly stop her tears, smearing her eyeliner. Fenton’s done a lot of shady things in his line of work, but now he wishes he’d never taken this job for Mark Beaks.

If only Maria Cabrera could see what her son had grown into, he thinks darkly.

Look at me, M’ma and Dad! Working for a fiendish organization and hurting innocent women and children! Aren’t you proud of your boy?

Gandra sniffs, wiping her face with the back of her hand, scoffing slightly when he doesn’t answer. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” she mutters, turning on her heel and stalking away.

Fenton almost leaves then—it’s what she wants, after all, and he’s done enough damage—but, instead, his hand closes around the handle of the paddle ball in his bag. Feeling the smooth wood in his hand drives his feet forward, and he follows her.

“Look, I know what I did was inexcusable. Horrible Irredeemable. And downright shitty, and nothing I say will ever make up for that. I’ll leave in a minute and you’ll never have to see me again, as long as we’re both alive, and wow, that was way more macabre than I thought it’d be, but, anyways, I just wanted to give you this before I left, because you might be a suit, but you’re something special, S—Gandra Dee, and I think this is, too, so…here,” he finishes lamely, dropping the paddle on the desk by her elbow.

Without meaning too, he’d slipped into Old Fenton, rambling and bumbling his words, something he hadn’t done since Steelbeak publicly made fun of him in front of the other agents.

Gandra simply lifts her chin in acknowledgment of the paddle but doesn’t say anything more to him, studiously sorting the files in what look like arbitrary piles.

Fenton nods shortly, and turns to leave. He might be a short-sighted idiot on occasion, but he could read her cue, loud and clear.

Get out. I never want to see you again.

He probably never will see her again.

And, for some reason, that makes his stomach turn.

*

send a link, get a drabble?

[sorrelchestnut]

EVERYBODY’S PICKIN’ UP ON THAT FELINE BEAT, PART 37

holy shit I finished a scene.  We’re really close to the end now, y’all.  That being said: this definitely ends on a cliffhanger.  Fair warning.

Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.  Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Part 8.  Part 9.  Part 10.  Part 11. Part 12.  Part 13.  Part 14.  Part 15.  Part 16.  Part 17.  Part 18.  Part 19. Part 20.  Part 21.  Part 22. Part 23. Part 24. Part 25. Part 26.  Part 27. Part 28. Part 29. Part 30. Part 31. Part 32. Part 33.  Part 34. Part 35. Part 36.

Title: everybody’s picking up on that feline beat Author: Sorrel Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: None Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor Series: Part 3 of everybody wants to be a cat

Coffee helps; fresh air and sunshine helps more.  For someone who spends a significant majority of her life inside, underground, nocturnal, and/or just generally skulking around in the shadows, Whisper can be surprisingly solar-powered at times.  By the time they're over the river she's in almost obnoxiously high spirits, singing "Anything Goes" in a squeaky falsetto that makes him think longingly of the roll of duct tape in his pack.

"The world has gone mad today, and good's bad today, and black's white today, and day's night today-"

"Whisper, I swear to God-"

"And that gent today you gave a cent today once had sev-er-al chateaus!"

"Alright, Cole Porter, that's enough."  She grins wider and opens her mouth, and he hastily slaps a hand over it before she can start the next verse.  "No."

Her lips tickle against his palm as she grumbles, "You're no fun."

"What, because I like living?  You're going to bring down every raider in the greater Boston area, the way you're caterwaul- ow!  Fuck!"

She tucks her thumbs in the straps of her pack and gives him a cheerful, empty-headed smile, showing off the pearly white teeth she just sunk into the base of his thumb.  "Talk shit, get hit."

"Jesus, you're aggressive."  He studies his hand but doesn't find any sign of bleeding, just a neat row of stark white tooth marks rapidly flushing back pink.  "Whatever happened to licking my hand to gross me out?"

"Sometimes I can really tell you were an only child," she informs him, shaking her head faux-mournfully.  "You gotta go big or go home, that's my motto."

"Good thing we're going home, isn't it?"  When she squints at him, he smiles sunnily and holds his injured hand a couple inches above her head.  "I mean, 'big' isn't exactly your strong suit, so..."

She launches herself at him with a war cry.

Bickering aside, they straighten up when they come into sight of Diamond City, falling into character as a pair of road-weary mercenaries coming off an all-night hike and desperate for a shower and some sleep.  (Which, to be fair, isn't that far off from the truth, all things considered.)  They're both in costume already, not that that took long.  All Whisper had to do was slick back her hair and throw on a pair of sunglasses and hey presto: Olivia Bailey, ruins-rover extraordinaire.  Next to her all Deacon has to do is look suitably grizzled and road-weary, so he pretty much just tossed the least-disgusting raider's jacket on over his travel clothes and smeared some dust artistically through his stubble and called it a goddamn day.

It certainly works well enough on the second-shift gate guard, a pockmarked woman with nicotine stains on her fingers.  She waves them through with a disinterested nod, already going back to her book before they even clear the gate.  Deacon squashes down the contrary impulse to make some kind of scene and just nods back, professional and cool, as he wraps an arm around Whisper's shoulder.  She gives him a little sideways look that says I know what you're doing but doesn't bother to pull away until they're in the tunnel.

Deacon looks around and then back to her, pointedly.  Whisper huffs a laugh.

"What now?"

"Nothing," he says, and waggles his eyebrows.  "It's just… here we are again.  Where it all started.  Back to the site of our fateful first meeting."

Her eyes narrow.  "Weren't you the one who said-"

"Mm, yeah, but I've had time to think about it, and I think you made a compelling point.  First contact is definitely the first one that counts."

"You just don't want to 'fess up on just how long you were following me around."

"Why, partner, I'm hurt that you would think of such a thing," he says, and moves swiftly on before she can call him on the obvious evasion.  "You know, you keep bringing me back here, I'm going to start thinking you've got a secret romantic streak."  She gives him a look.  "Very secret."

"That's me, all hearts and flowers," says quite the most ruthlessly practical woman Deacon's ever met.  "Besides, if I was going to start up with romantical remembrances at this late date, that wouldn't be the one I'd pick.  I was so sleep-deprived I'm lucky I remembered my own name."

"Couldn't tell to look at you," Deacon says, in massive understatement.  She was all easy swagger and magazine-cover grin, on her way to bigger and better things.  She sure as shit didn't look like she was running on the ragged edge of her endurance - but then, he knows better than most just how well she can lie with a smile.

She glances over at him as they break out of the tunnel, her gaze shrewd over the rim of her shades.  "You remember it pretty well, huh?"

Nope, nuh-uh, not going there.  "Your hair was longer," Deacon says, tweaking the end of one of her curls in a transparent bid for distraction.  "I remember that for sure."

"Well, yeah," she says, ducking neatly around a kid that seems really intent on wherever she's running.  "You told me to cut it."

"I did?"  He definitely doesn't remember that.  "When?"

"When we were prepping for the Covenant op.  You said blonde, I said I had to grab some bleach, and you gave me that 'oh honey' look you do when people are being particularly stupid and told me to just cut it off, you had a spare wig lying around someplace."

That does sound like him.  "And you just did it?" he says, because Whisper is a lot of things, but 'obedient' sure as shit isn't one of them.

"You were brandishing a knife when you said it," she admits.  "It seemed easier to give in than argue."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.  Especially then: that must've been, what, their first week together?  Back then everything was one long haze of exhaustion, staggering from one crisis to the next with barely enough time to take a shit.  Hauling her into the Covenant op was a desperation play, pure and simple: he needed backup, and anyone had to be better than Glory.  He hadn't known, then, what she could do with nothing more than a smile and a little room to work.

Though he figured it out pretty damn quick.

"I'd say it worked out," he says, and tweaks her dark hair again.  "You do make a fetching blonde."

She gives him a look over the tops of her shades, knowing and a bit amused.  "They do have more fun."

Aaaand now he's thinking about their first time, that silver dress pushed up around her thighs, blonde wig spilling across the mattress above her and blue eyes begging him in the dark.  He clears his throat.  "You want to go talk to Valentine?"

"In a bit," she says, and wraps her arm around his waist.  He automatically puts his arm around her in turn, and she leans her head on his shoulder, a picture-perfect image of a lovesick spouse.  "Need to make the rounds, hit up a few of the merchants first.  It'd be weird if I didn't."

"God forbid we look weird," he agrees, and laughs at her elbow in his stomach.

~*~

She does break off eventually, slips away to discuss things with Valentine and leaves him with a key and strict instructions to take care of dinner.  Deacon makes a quick loop of his own, touching base with the runners they placed last time and offloading some of their scav while he's at it.  Myrna's girl has been promoted to working the afternoon shift solo, and is more than happy to take a few extra minutes dickering in order to fill him in on the local gossip.  He rounds it off with a visit to the Dugout where the cocky one is still serving drinks - Deacon makes a note to collect the ten caps from Whisper later - and picks up some dinner to go on his way out.  Never let it be said he can't follow orders when it suits him.

He's setting out the plates when Whisper follows him in just a few minutes later with a slammed door and a cheerful, "Hallo the house!" from the far end of her little warehouse.

"Kitchen!" he calls back, and a moment later she appears, weaving her way through the stacked boxes and dropping a noticeably emptier pack on the floor by the stove.

"Need a hand?"

The food's pretty much done, so he tilts his head to the table with a hopeful, "Something to drink?"

"I've got just the thing," and she grabs her pack again, fishing around inside until she comes up with a couple bottles of Bobrov's homebrew.  "I tried to catch you at the Dugout but Vadim said you just left.  Good enough?"

"We-ell, everyone knows a dry white pairs best with seafood, but for day-old mirelurk I suppose it will just have to do."

"You're trying to ruin my appetite but it's not working," she informs him, nose in the air.  "I'm so hungry I'd eat a mirelurk raw."

He laughs and nudges in behind her as she turns to grab a bottle opener.  "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that.  You know it's only the best for my girl."

"Flatterer," she says, nothing in her voice now but laughter.  "You talk any sweeter, I'm gonna be forced to check those lips for honey."

"Aw, babe.  You say the - ha ha - sweetest things."  He buries his nose in the back of her neck and inhales.  "I get the cigarettes, but why do you smell like one of Tom's experiments?  Hot metal and burnt wiring," he clarifies, when she gives him a truly weird look.

"Oh, I stopped by Piper's after I talked to Nick," she says, all offhand as if she's not talking about the biggest gossip in the Commonwealth.

Deacon unpeels himself from her back and takes her by the shoulders.  "Whisper," he says, seriously.  "Do we need to have a conversation about operational security?  Because I feel like you may have been out that day."

"Oh, so you want her to come by and harangue me in person?  Because that is one hundred percent what she'd do if she heard I was in town and didn't go see her first."

Okay, so maybe she has a point.  The thought of Piper fucking Wright showing up at his door - well, Whisper's door, whatever - demanding to know his intentions toward her friend… Yeah, no.  That's gonna be a haaaard pass.

Whisper grins at him, the devil in her eyes.  He knows that look.  "Whisper-"

"Ohhhh, I see what this is about."

"Fear," he assures her, trying to head whatever this is off at the pass, "this is a very healthy and reasonable level of fear," but she's on her way to a punchline and won't be deterred.

"You're a fan!" she declares, over his groan of protest.  "Aww, sweetheart, why didn't you say something earlier?  I could totally arrange an introduction for you."

"Ahhh, no thanks," Deacon manages, through the bolt of terror that thought inspires.  "Little-known fact, spies are in fact allergic to reporters?  Like, clinically.  The hives are brutal."

She takes pity on him and gives way with a laugh, her eyes crinkling up at the corners.  "Don't worry, babe, I'll protect you."

"You're the best."

"And don't you forget it."  She pops open one of the bottles one-handed, handing it off to him with a cheery flourish.  "Besides, you don't wanna bitch too much about my girl Piper.  Her caps bought you this booze."

"I take it back, she's my new favorite person.  After your radiant self, of course."  He takes a swig and passes it back, enjoying the flush of boozy heat down through his chest as he turns back to the stove.  After a moment's consideration, he adds a couple extra tatos to the pan.  If they're drinking Bobrov's then he definitely wants to lay down a hearty base.  "Something interesting afoot?"

"Mhm?"

"Your payout from Wright.  Anything I should know about?"

She wobbles her flat hand side-to-side, a wordless eh.  "Not really.  Just a side project I've been working on."

Interesting.  It's not as if they tell each other everything they get up to - he certainly has any number of moving parts at any given moment she's not read in on, and this business with Hancock gave him a good idea about how much he doesn't know about her adventures - but the fun stuff, yeah, that's usually share and share alike.  Then again, maybe it's a leftover from her little enforced vacation back in August.  He's mostly kept his nose out of whatever she was up to those weeks in hopes she'll do him the same courtesy, so there's a gap in his intel.

"Very mysterious," he teases, nudging a little.  "C'mon, not even a hint for your faithful partner?"

She refuses to be nudged, only smiles faintly and hunches one shoulder into a lopsided shrug.  "You can read it in the paper tomorrow like everyone else."

"Way harsh."

"That's me, cruel and unusual."  She passes him back a plate with an absent kiss to his scruffy cheek.  "C'mon, quit fondling that pot holder and get me some supper.  I'm starving."

~*~

It's a good night, maybe the best he's had in a while.  Deacon sort of figured she'd be distracted, mind on her mission tomorrow, but instead it's the opposite: for the first time in what seems like weeks, he has her full and undivided attention, and he basks in it like winter sunshine.  They trade stories and quips, mostly things they've told each other a dozen times over but still fresh, still funny, still so much fun to watch her trying out a new spin, a new angle.  She's so fucking good at that, always has been.  Yet another thing Deacon never needed to teach her, but damn does he never get tired of watching her reinvent herself on the fly.

Deacon, for his part, finds himself mugging shamelessly for her attention, chasing her approval as fervently as any junkie he's ever pretended to be.  And unlike a junkie Deacon gets what he's craving in spades, because she's as generous with her smiles as she is with her stories, lounging back in her chair with her glass in her hand, thighs sprawled wide and her voice gone syrup-slow with that insinuating smirk that only ever spurs him on.

Later, he doesn't entirely remember how they end up in bed.  The booze turns everything smeary and soft-focus, like light coming in through a stained-glass window, and his memory preserves only a series of snapshots: pulling Whisper into his lap, her startled yelp of laughter muffled with his mouth.  Making out on the landing, one foot braced a step down to put him closer to her height, his fingers busy on her shirt buttons and hers on his belt buckle.  Tumbling into bed in a snarl of limbs, laughingly disentangling them until Whisper tugs him up over her in the dark.  Burying his face in the sweat-slicked curve of her neck as he works his cock inside of her, her blunt nails scoring lines down the length of his back and her heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on.  The flicker of the candlelight playing across her lush mouth and her dark, shadowed eyes, her damp hair clinging to her forehead as she tosses her head back against the pillows.  The low breathy rasp of her voice, "Deacon," murmured against his ear, "Deacon, Deacon, please-"

And then when he wakes up, he's alone.

The radio downstairs is playing “The Wanderer,” and Deacon lies there for a moment, listening to the clatter of the rain against the windows, experiencing an overwhelming surge of deja vu.

Then he hauls himself out of bed, picks up his boots, and goes in search of his wayward accomplice.

Unlike last time, there's no pint-sized partner clattering around in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and dancing around like temptation on two legs.  The room is cool and dim, only the faint mid-morning sunshine straggling in through an upper window to light the way, and the only sign of habitation is the soft strains of the radio.  Deacon does a quick check in the warehouse section just in case - have the boxes been breeding back there? - but the only sign of life in here is him.  Most damningly of all, Whisper's pack is gone from the hook beside the door, leaving his looking lopsided next to the empty space where its partner used to be.

Do not project onto an inanimate object, Deacon my lad, he tells himself, and checks the counter next to the radio, where he previously saw a pad and a pencil half-buried under a precarious stack of ammo boxes.  Sure enough, there's a note there, torn loose from the pad and folded into thirds with John scrawled across the front in unfamiliar handwriting that must belong to Liv.

She's just keeping cover, not stupid enough to write anything else out here in the open where anyone could walk in and see it, but Deacon still stares at it for a long moment, that single syllable knocking around somewhere at the bottom of his ribs.  Then he shakes his head at himself, reaches out, and unfolds the note.

hey handsome, you looked so peaceful i couldn't bring myself to wake you.  at least one of us should get to sleep in, and nick had me up with the sun.  (you know what he's like when he's on a case!)  shouldn't take long though, just a quick run down to goodneighbor and fingers crossed we'll be back by supper.  take care of my best guy while i'm gone.  xoxo, liv

The radio changes to “One More Tomorrow,” and Deacon glares at it as he folds up the note.  Reading between the breezy, heavily fictionalized lines, it's clear enough she decided to handle this Kellogg business solo.  Which is… fair enough, he supposes, but something about it doesn't sit square.  Did she think he would have told her no, if she asked him to stay put?  He thought he made it pretty clear the whole thing was hers to handle or not as she saw fit.  Or maybe she just thought it'd be too awkward, having him up in her business like that?  Maybe after their last op, she's about had her fill of personal.  He couldn't blame her if that's the case, but he hopes she knows the last thing he'd ever want to do is make things harder for her.

Well, there's not much he can do about it either way, not with her at least a few hours ahead of him, judging by the sun, and definitely not with her clear instruction to sit tight.  Waiting isn't much his favorite part and he didn't really plan to be hanging out in Diamond City all day, but Deacon's an adaptable fellow; he'll find a way to keep himself occupied.

The market is bustling at this hour of the morning, and Deacon lets the crowd carry him along, thinking vaguely about picking up some noodles for breakfast and then maybe having a wander around.  It's not great for his cover to spend so much time out and about on his own, but with the right sidelong look most people will probably assume she's sleeping off a wild night, which would be great for his ego, at least.  Besides, there's really no substitute for market gossip when it comes to keeping a pulse on the goings-on in the Commonwealth, which is what he plans to tell Dez if she gives him shit for the wasted day.  Not that she will, because if Deacon has his way she'll never hear about any of this, but he likes having a contingency plan in place.  Makes him feel all nice and comfy.

It's when he's looping around the counter in search of an open stool that he catches the familiar sound of Piper Junior hawking her wares at full volume.  Which is funny, 'cause by his calculation they're not due for another issue for at least a week.  Normally Piper's pretty regular with the print, except-

Deacon gets a sinking sensation in his chest.

-except when she has something too juicy to wait and damn it, Whisper, what the hell are you up to?

Normally the last place he wants to be is anywhere near someone named Wright, but since his partner has been up to shenanigans without bothering to inform him first, he figures that in this case 'better safe than sorry' means getting out ahead of whatever nonsense Whisper's been cooking up rather than running the other way.  He makes sure to pull his cap low over his eyes, hitches his pack higher on his shoulders, and sidles over towards the Public Occurrences like he just doesn't have anything better to do.

"Extra, extra, read all about it!  Minutemen General has the tell-all of the century!"

Oh, it's Minutemen business.  Geez, why didn't she just say so?  If she's running some propaganda job for Garvey, the last thing he'd want to do is get in her way.  It was obvious they needed something after the trip to the Slog the other week, and throwing Piper at the problem is probably the most efficient way to get the word out.  Half the damn Commonwealth reads her paper at some point or another, even if it's just so they can tell themselves how wrong she is.

Still, Whisper did tell him he'd find out today, so she probably expects him to read up on whatever it is.  He snatches a paper off the top of the stack and flips it over, scanning for the headline.

Woman out of Time: Savior of the Minutemen Tells All About Life Before the Bomb!

"-not the current General," Little Wright's saying, when Deacon manages to stop staring at the paper and drag his attention back to the real world.  "The first one, the one that retook the Cast- hey!"

Deacon finds the paper snatched right from his hands, a pint-sized version of a familiar glare beaming up at him.  "You gotta pay before you read," Little Wright informs him.  "We're not running a charity here!"

"Uh, right," says Deacon, who still feels like he's hearing everything underwater, slow-motion and echoing strangely.  "What's the deal with this General, then?"

"Didn'tcha see the headline?  She's from before the War!  Vault froze her in cryo, right here in the Commonwealth!"

Vault 111.  Oh, fuck.   Ohhhh fuck.

"So you gonna buy or just stand there and stare?"  Little Wright brandished the paper at him.  "Hot off the presses!  Only ten caps, and you can be the first to know!"

[inventors-fair]

Tri, Tri, Tri Again

What makes a common? Usually the little black and/or white symbol on the card, but that’s not the point right now. What makes a common different than an uncommon? The thing is, we know the difference between a common and a rare, even when sometimes those lines are a little weird on older cards like Scion of the Wild and Sinkhole in their own ways. The line is there these days, and we’re designing for the modern era whether we like it or not. I’d hope that after over twenty years of tinkering we’re at a place where we do like it, so there’s that.

What stops a common from being an uncommon, though, is a little harder to quantify. We have to talk about recursion, multiples, finishing, the role in the draft, the complexity for new players, etc. There are so many factors that can make pushing commons hard in ways that we don’t touch that often. I wanted to do this contest because it’s both a restriction and a challenge. Making a common card isn’t easy unless you know your slot. Making a common with the three lines of text, well, that’s something else entirely. And for the most part, I think people did amazing work. There are a couple obvious cases where I feel people should have looked at prior examples, but in terms of general work, we’re on the ball here. 

We’re only doing two bullet points this week: “Things I like” and “Where to improve.” I feel that that’s the most constructive, yes? Gimmicks can be fun, but let’s be real, we are here to get as much positive feedback as we can and to improve what we like to do, which is making custom cards. Easy enough. Let’s pick some cards and some brains. 

@deg99 — Emberwild Inferno

Things I like: On its surface, this is mechanically just fine. It’s a three-mana bolt, but with a distinct upside, and you know, nobody’s going to be upset when playing this in a draft. Red removal is perfectly fine and anti-prevention, while a corner case most days… Well, kind of. There are actually ten current standard cards that prevent damage, which is kind of surprising to me! Still, ten ain’t as much as it could be for relevance, BUT, it’s still perfectly reasonable to see that it would be in this set.

Where to improve: Firstly, “Emberwild” is spelled with an “e” at the end in every iteration of MTG cards printed thus far, and it’s kind of throwing me off. Also, it’s a term from Dominaria; what city is doing the blessing? What city are they in? There needs to be a comma after damage, “cannot” should be “can’t,” and I feel that we have to tell at least one person almost every contest: Damage needs a source. “Emberwild Inferno deals 3 damage to any target.” No spells after 1999 use that kind of wording. Please, please proofread your cards.

@dim3trodon​ — Reassembling Sentinel

Things I like: Totally fine to be using Ward here, and I like where it’s going. This is an interesting cost-to-PT ratio, definitely more aggressive, and I don’t hate it. Flying and first strike later in the game are also totally valid. I’m personally not the biggest fan of ability counters, but in this instance, there’s absolutely nothing wrong here. Permanent additions like this are important for modern Magic.

Where to improve: But why add the ability counters only if they don’t have them? Is there some ruling corner case that I’m missing? Why not just four mana for a flying counter, three for a first strike counter? It doesn’t feel intuitive to me. Yes, multiple counters are waylaid on cards like Crystalline Giant, but that’s because it wants as many as possible. Here, where you can choose, I feel you could have just had it add the counters. Regarding flavor, I don’t see how this card is “reassembling” anything. Assembling, yes, but REassembling? Not clicking for me.

@dimestoretajic​ — Mob Beast

Things I like: Gruul rules! Well, there’s no ruling, but—anyway, this card works in interesting ways and I think it’s pretty serviceable. Raging Kronch comes to mind, and the beasts of Ravnica are definitely up there. It’s an interesting name for sure, and it’s making me think more than it is making me feel critical. Is this beast part of the mob, or belonging to the mob, like it’s being wrangled? It could be either, and that’s fair. This card would make a good finisher.

Where to improve: I’m worried about multiples in draft for sure. I mean, chances are you aren’t going to get too many of them, but having a bunch of hasty finishers can be a bit of a pickle especially when you can also slot these into other multicolor strategies. Maybe it’d need to be tested to be believed, but, y’know, how many one-mana 3/3s are there, right? For the flavor text, emdash your quoter and put them on a separate line. If it’s too cramped, time to revise.

@dumbellsndragons​ — Fledgling Nightblade

Things I like: Renown is fantastic here. I don’t necessarily know how renowned an assassin wants to be, but in their own circles, heck yes. It encourages blocking in its own way, and it’s certainly powerful on that front with the deathtouch. I think for me the flavor is one of the stronger points here, and I want to see a little bit more of a “professionally getting better in all colors and competing” world, so thumbs-up there.

Where to improve: The last time we saw deathtouch and menace at common was Kederekt Creeper from Alara, and, well, I don’t think that’s precedent; deathtouch and menace is strong. Really strong. Like, at common, I think it might be a bit too strong. It shows up printed so little because of that, even at higher rarities. Honestly, a 3-mana 1/2  or 2/1 might be better, but that’s also my worrywart tendencies. I’d have to play. This design as it stands would be fine in a Modern Horizons power level set more than a standard one.

@gollumni​ — Sovereign’s Duty

Things I like: I’m a big fan of “can block any number of creatures” for someone who isn’t super defensive when playing the game. I think it’s neat, and represents cool stuff, and I like this card a lot! The name is generic, but I don’t mean that as an insult. I could see this in a core set, on Dominaria, on Theros, on Eldraine, any number of planes, and for a common, that’s a good thing. That’s some success right there. 

Where to improve: That last ability made me worried about layers until I checked with some rules people. It’s not the layers so much as it is the wording. “As long as enchanted creature’s toughness is 5 or greater, it can block any number of creatures.” Continuous effects. Argh, that really threw me for a second! It was also kind of frustrating because there wasn’t any great precedent, but you know, nothing wrong with new territory.

@hiygamer​ — Guider of Souls

Things I like: Exploit would make a very cool mechanic in Orzhov, and I think that if we ever do a “mechanic/faction mixup” contest then you get precedent on that front. Totally flavorful and totally awesome. I think that Orzhov tokens was one of my favorite draft archetypes from RNA and this card continuing that tradition with death triggers is definitely up there in terms of capturing that feeling.

Where to improve: This card feels busy for some reason. Unfortunately, for this contest, you had to have the three lines, but were this printed, I don’t think it would have vigilance. Two flying bodies would be enough. If you wanted to keep vigilance, I’d definitely knock it down to one body. Two fliers… I feel that that’s too much. But, what do I know. Also why aren’t they white and black like the other Spirits? Regardless, that flavor text is also pretty dry. Not bad, but dry. What if it was the guider talking to the spirits instead? “Come, let me lead you to the light of Orzhova.” Little simpler, shorter, more personal.

@hyenagirldick​ — Poisoned Gookeeper

Things I like: I think despite this being kind of a placeholder, everyone liked this card’s name. I’m up there. This one, wow, this is giving me a lot of whiplash. The typeline is making me think Simic, but the “horror” is making me think Innistrad, but the Scavenge is making me think Ravnica again, but—and so on and so forth. I want context! Mechanically, using “scavenge onto” as a verb here is interesting and I don’t hate it. A good twist on this mechanic.

Where to improve: Despite that drive for context, I think ultimately the mashup is making me more confused than intrigued. It’s just over the line, to be fair, but it needs consolidation of ideas. You’re asking a lot of us here, to interpret the world, a new use for the mechanic (that seems considerably cheaper than the average common scavenge-r), to have a deathtouch blocker like this with the high toughness, etc. It’s not bad! But it’s a lot.

@hypexion​ — Blade of the Blessed

Things I like: I feel that the trend of having cool explorations of auras and equipment is 100% the right way to go and this card feels like it slots right in. Let’s talk about flavor, because without flavor text, this card still tells an amazing story. As long as you’re able, pick up the sword and fight. But, if you’re blessed by XYZ deity, then the blade becomes easier to wield. Fantastic. That much I like.

Where to improve: I believe that the last ability is too complex for common. It’s not that it doesn’t make sense or that it’s too powerful, but I believe that it’s asking stuff from players that they wouldn’t necessarily understand at common; it’s not immediately grokable. I like the space and I like what it’s doing. I think if you drop the cost to 1W it would be a fine uncommon. And you know what, I think I’m in the minority. I think that there will be disagreement, and I understand where that’s coming from.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ — Mummification

Things I like: I’m always a fan of cycling abilities for sure. Can’t be countered, instant-speed, powerful effects, heck yeah. I’m also a fan of finisher abilities like this. Black’s triggers for life-loss were definitely fun with those big enchantments. There aren’t a heck of a lot of common noncreature non-aura enchantments out there as precedent, but regardless, they exist.

Where to improve: Looking up precedents for this effect, I’m definitely skeptical about this at common. For one, it’s any player. For two, it’s whenever a spell is cast. For three, it’s harder to remove. All that together combined with a potential common cycling shell where you can draft a bunch of these and then make all black spells have extort? Actually, this card is almost strictly better than a two-mana enchantment with “Black spells you cast have extort.” Almost. I think this might have had to go back to the drawing board. As for the flavor, I don’t grok what the name, text, and abilities have to do with one another.

@koth-of-the-hammerpants — Coffin Devourer

Things I like: I just read the flavor text, and, uh. I love it but wow. That’s some nasty, funny, funky stuff. So! Let’s talk about the card. Perfectly serviceable in terms of getting things out of graveyards then making creatures big. There aren’t too many cards with tap abilities and vigilance at common, but they’re definitely there, so that’s okay. Man, I can’t get over that name and flavor combo. That’s really something special.

Where to improve: This card doesn’t really fit the prompt, and I think next time I’d have to reach out about something like this. Vigilance and trample go on the same line; yes, even in standard-legal sets where sometimes abilities don’t go together, because that’s mostly for starters and core sets and the like. Technically it fits the prompt, but for all practical purposes it’s a workaround that shouldn’t have been submitted as-is. Now, that’s Fair meta. The card’s totally fine on every other front, I think. You’re gonna have to decide, though, if you wanna stick with the sort of Scavenging Ooze wording or the Tome Shredder wording. I think you should go with the second, with the exile as a cost.

@mardu-lesbian​ — Rifleman Trio (JUDGE PICK)

Things I like: Huh, another card with vigilance and a tap ability. Well there we go! This card’s also got a lot going on, but it doesn’t feel like anything is at odds with itself, and is also on the upper side of being pushed without going into strictly uncommon territory. It’s got reach (“Stay on the defense, fellas!”) for blocking as it comes down, it’s got conditional vigilance (“Learn from those organized chaps!”) which encourages multicolor play but doesn’t force it, and it’s got that cool damage that is both a finisher, a pinger, and teaches a little about the combat advantage (“FIRE!”). So yeah!

Where to improve: I guess the only question would be where the rifles come from. Is this Ixalan-ian? I don’t think it super matters. This is a great commendable card.

@masternexeon​ — Bloodstarved Beast

Things I like: “Vampire beast” is one heck of a typeline. I like that part a lot, and honesty, I like weird echo costs a lot to. I’m surprised this isn’t a name already, actually! This card feels like its basis is in a lot of neat love letters to old-school Magic and high fantasy, even outside of the choice to submit with old-border.

Where to improve: The complexity of this one is definitely up there and past. Doing weird things with established mechanics that aren’t immediately grokable probably don’t belong at common. What happens when you blink it after previously paying an echo cost, a player might ask? Paying a cost for a continuous effect feels...weird, and I actually don’t know if that works within the rules. Nothing wrong with that specific echo cost, so that’s fine, but the second ability isn’t something I’d personally want at common. For the last ability, it should be “you draw a card and you lose 1 life,” see Phyrexian Rager.

@misterstingyjack​ — Flames of Anarchy

Things I like: Removal and cycling is perfectly serviceable. The cost suggests that the set has a stronger monocolor theme if the removal is costed like this, although it might just be for the slightly more powerful effect (sort of) and the ability to cycle if you don’t have the RR already. Name’s pretty darn awesome, too.

Where to improve: I know that you tried to balance it by making it only his creatures or planeswalkers, but this is still a recursive damage spell that’s asking weird things of you. What sort of set would have a sorcery-matters theme at common? What’s the as-fan? I think you had a cool idea that is indeed cool, but what you’re asking of your set and your rarity is too much than what can be provided. I don’t think this kind of recursion is what you want at common. In the shell that it’s intended to be in, I think it’s too powerful.

@morbidlyqueerious​ — Proven Sword (JUDGE PICK)

Things I like: Like I said earlier, new things with equipment and auras are totally awesome, and I fully support this kind of cost. Equipping to certain creature types for cheap makes sense to me because nine times out of ten it’s not something that’s going to be radically changing; either the creature is there or it’s not, and it’s either a Warrior or not. And that’s cool! First strike can be really powerful with that boost that you’re giving it, and if you have any other warrior or equipment strategies, then you better believe things are gonna get nasty on the field. I think this is a one-of in your pool, but it’s a fantastic one-of. Equipment can be undervalued at times!

Where to improve: I’m not 100% down with the flavor text. The blacksmith doesn’t “make” the metal, do they? They make the blade. I think that you had a good concept but it’s not exactly there yet.

@naban-dean-of-irritation​ — Physical Fluctuation

Things I like: Well, the art’s a big plus, and the flavor’s funny, so that’s pretty great. I think that common combat tricks in the GW sphere have always been a little funky, especially with Ravnica’s weird return to that again and again. There was even that green one, but searching for things that have multiple instances of “target creature” on Scryfall is such a pain.

Where to improve: Seeds of Strength is weird, but they’re all +1/+1 so at least that much makes sense, same buffing all around. Martial Glory is a little harder to grok sometimes, but it’s only up to two creatures, so that’s not the worst that can happen. If you have three creatures, then this card has a number of options that is legitimately making me worried about my ability to do simple math and statistics. The variance here in P/T distribution is off the charts. Yeah, it would make sense in-game, but just on principle, I don’t want that much at common. It’s—you know what, I’m gonna do some math. … There are at least 27 different variations if you have three creatures. I don’t think that that’s what people need at common.

@narkis24 — Unbound Devil

Things I like: Pushed P/T with drawback is totally valid. I like the fact that the “unbound” in the name refers to the fact that you can’t control it, literally, without someone holding the leash. That could make for some fun flavor things. If you’re on-curve, then you got some big beats that you can get in early.

Where to improve: I honestly wonder if it’s too much, actually. Yeah, it has to attack every time, but if you can get a one-drop then this then any removal on-curve and/or more Devils, then you’re in one crazy good spot. I think in terms of power level, this is uncommon for sure. In terms of abilities, I did a little searching, and there isn’t any precedent for non-temporary control switching at common. That’s for a good reason, IMO. Again, this is a great card, but definitely uncommon. And a good draft uncommon, too!

@nicolbolas96​ — Lost to Memory (JUDGE PICK)

Things I like: This is a really funky pauper card that also happens to have great draft function. The destruction is conditional, but on-curve you’re going to be fine with it. If there are no good targets, you can at least get a card out of their hand and deck. I think that the versatility there is awesome and that this card is definitely up there in terms of playability. And, well, it’s not that powerful. That’s a good thing! It stays at the common line while having great effects and not pushing anywhere it doesn’t need to be. Yeah, maybe the Pauper-rack meta doesn’t want it at sorcery speed, but heck, I think it’s great. Good with Chittering Rats

Where to improve: The flavor text lacks something for me. I know sometimes he asks questions, but unless they’re directed at someone specific, they tend to be either contextual to another statement or answered. I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel as...suave as Bolas usually is. It seems small but it’s a hangup for me. Feel free to up his grandiosity.

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff — Idyllic Falchion

Things I like: Heh, back to equipment. You know how I feel about that. Interesting sacrifice trigger. I think that that’s the strongest part of the card in terms of—well, maybe not power, but in terms of the “cool” factor and “push” factor. It’s fine for common, and it’s strong, and you need the color to cast it, so that’s awesome. And bonus points for making me look up the word “falchion” too; it helped to envision the weapon and scenario you had in mind.

Where to improve: The second ability doesn’t work. The equipment would need to be on the battlefield for the equip cost to be activated. Instead, it would read: “{cost}: Return ~ from your graveyard to the battlefield attached to target creature. Activate only as a sorcery.” And that would honestly be kick-ass for like...six mana? Get that in your archives, ‘cause I like the idea a lot. As it stands, doesn’t work rules-wise.

@rasputin-gold​ — Copse Fiend

Things I like: “Copse” got me, and I like the vocab check there, very nice. I think that your typing and the general mood is really fantastic, and holy crap, look: that flavor text literally gave  me a touch of ASMR. It’s not the next great American novel, but it fits so well, and it feels great and creepy, and it tells me so much, and that, that’s awesome.

Where to improve: Let’s take all that mood and make a different card with it, because there’s...a lot going on. A four-mana 4/3 with wither would be totally fine by itself at common. GG activation for a lure? Okay, makes sense, but combined with the wither, that’s something that’s far too powerful at common, assuming a set with the mana alignment to make that happen. The assumption that you have a Forest (capital F!) to give it first strike (tertiary in black and NOT in green) and potential recursion is way too far gone. If this card were presented without rarity I would assume it was rare. So, yeah, this is one of those times where it’s not a bad card but for this contest it’s just too much. Keep it appropriate for rarity.

@reaperfromtheabyss​ — Dwarf Forge Scrapheap (JUDGE PICK)

Things I like: Well, I already talked about the clues from the winners’ post, so I’ll go out on a limb and say that yes, I like this one too. A combination of the “shifting animated pile of knobs and gears and junk that when animated can come to life and hit you in the face” with “forget this I’m gonna make mana” is pretty funny to me, in that dry card way, and this card in general is pretty cool. In terms of gameplay, yeah, you can have a beater on turn four if you really need the boost, or late in the game as a colorless source, but it’s also mana-fixing, a three-mana buttwall, and just a cool card all around. I think that this is one of those that could have great art flavored on a cool world, and the name could be changed to fit just about anything. 

Where to improve: “Add ONE mana of any color.” ONE. I’m unreasonably curmudgeonly about that error, somewhat jokingly, a little rib-nudgingly. Easy oversight, but don’t let it happen again! (Kidding, kidding, I know I need to up my editing skills too.)

@snugz​ — Sidestep

Things I like: this card. I like this card, dangit. I don’t care that it wouldn’t be very playable in a whole lot of decks or archetypes as a weird combat trick, but I like it. It’s simple and funny and plays into the “I’m gonna right myself while tripping you up” gag and that’s great. The simplicity speaks to some Rookie Mistake vibes that I’m down with.

Where to improve: Again, I don’t think it’s playable. I could see them printing this card and having it be basically draft chaff, but maybe not, maybe it’s something in a combat-trick heavy set with some radical payoff. Maybe it’s a pauper Heroic card that could make the deck tier-1. But it’s so simple that it’s hard to talk about! I’m sorry I can’t give more feedback than that, honestly. The card’s too well-made. So, with that in mind, you need to season this steak. Any flavor text for any context would be awesome.

@starch255​ — Scab-Clan Brawler

Things I like: 100%, this feels Gruul. It’s a big fighter that’s on-curve with some brutal flavor despite no flavor-text. The notion of the Gruul tribespeople fighting among themselves comes across here fantastically, and having a 3/3 trampler is definitely something that a RG drafter will want on turn three.

Where to improve: [Foreword: This is a lot of text and I swear it’s mostly not criticism; you made me think.]  Brawl needs work. A lot of work. As it stands, either you lose a small creature, you lose this one and put a +1/+1 counter on your bigger creature, or you happen to have a 2/4 that can survive. I am… I’m working this out as I’m writing, and I want to like it, and I want to improve it, but the more I think about it, the more I think that the mechanic isn’t the problem. I think it’s actually surprisingly complex, almost more complex than a Gruul player would want immediately. The choice of payoffs is so hard to think about—and at this point, I’m not so much criticizing as I am ruminating. I really want to play with this mechanic just to see if my knee-jerk “fighting your own creatures is bad, ugh” is lizard brain and if there’s galaxy brain behind it. You’ve put me in a conundrum here. Hold onto this one.

@thedirtside — River Delta

Things I like: Great name, makes sense. I can picture the landscape where you would want this place to appear. Nonbasic lands are pretty interesting to design at common, and breaking away from the Guildgate/Life-gain lands was an ambitious move.

Where to improve: I know fetchlands are weird on the scale, but in terms of probability, the ability to (1) get your colorless mana if need be OR (2) tutor for the land you need while thinning your deck and furthermore (3) getting a 3/3 body once you’ve sacrificed it later in the game… This is borderline rare and might even be pushed for an uncommon. Yes, it’s basic, but in limited that’s a non-issue and in constructed there’s nothing wrong with getting your basic lands just to make this card work for you. The part about it being tapped really isn’t that much of a massive drawback. I like this card a lot. It’s not common power level. Small notes: “shuffle your library” can just be “shuffle” IIRC, and your comma between the 3UG and Exile seems wonky.

@wilsonosgoodmcman​ — Ruthless Vigilante

Things I like: Gotta love a vampire rogue. This particular card doesn’t seem to have a home, but it doesn’t seem to be sending any mixed-messages either. Ixalan doesn’t really want the roguishness, Dominaria could have it but where’s the vigilantism, Innistrad has different colors, Ravnica has different flavors, etc. etc. So does it belong? Yes! But “were” is yet to be determined. That’s totally okay. 

Where to improve: IMO, your abilities are too strong together. Vigilance and deathtouch is a pretty powerful combo once you get yourself in a position where you can attack, because, well, then you still have a murderous blocker. There’s a reason it hasn’t appeared at common yet. The lifelink feels a bit odd, honestly, and the toughness boosting feels out of place. Why is an aggressive vigilante boosting its toughness? Actually, why does a rogue have vigilance? There’s no precedent or flavor connection there. I’m just not feeling what this card is offering me. It might play, like, fine, but it doesn’t feel good and it doesn’t feel like it has a place that couldn’t be replaced by a more cohesive card.

@wolkemesser​ — Dry Sands Summoning

Things I like: We haven’t had a real good desert world since the Abzan from KTK, and I miss that. Having a sandy feel and aesthetic could be really cool here, and I think that what you were going for what the flavor of turning the desert into, like, part of the warrior tribe. That much I like a lot.

Where to improve: I find myself a little frustrated trying to write commentary, because there’s a lot to go on here and I don’t want to be too harsh. I’m going to address the individual parts, but in general, please, please run these cards by people before submitting.

The hybrid cost is fine but that’s pushing it a little. Eventide was an exception I personally liked, but the color weight doesn’t always play well with others. That part is honestly fine.

Enchanting cards in graveyards should never currently appear at common. Spellweaver Volute is a rules nightmare/abomination. 

It would be “Enchant land or land card in a graveyard.” “Warrior” needs to be capitalized. “Enchanted land is a 3/1 Sand Warrior creature with haste. It’s still a land.”

What is the purpose of having a land also be a creature in your graveyard? At common? I can’t envision any scenario in which that would be a reasonable theme. It can’t attack from your graveyard, it would be weird for type-changing in the graveyard with Conspiracy, and it wouldn’t move it to the battlefield either.

The retrace is a decision that’s almost designed to cause confusion. So it could enchant a card in a graveyard, but not be in a graveyard, until it’s in your graveyard, whereupon you can discard a land to cast it from your graveyard, but not target a land discarded this way.

@yourrightfulking​ — Mutilated Faerie

Things I like: This name and the intention of the flavor text is almost grimdark; I’m not averse to that. I actually really like the fact that it can’t block, because it lets you have deathtouch with a little more aggression. The fact that it’s an assassin almost makes me wonder about the story of this individual character, and you know what, that means that flavorfully you’re doing something really right.

Where to improve: The “human sacrificing” part feels important to your implied set, and I don’t know how to feel about that. You get a 2/1 deathtouch body and potentially take out another faction? I mean, if this was Eldraine, this card would probably be actually sought in drafts with the human as-fan. Might be a little too powerful on that front depending on the environment. But, uh, the flavor and name? I want to like it but it’s more confusing than not. “Pixie plucking” seems like either a poaching crime or a children's game, and the reason WHY pixies are plucked could be better specified. The second sentence is a fragment. Your story implies that a plucked pixie will 100% die, but then, how did this one get mutilated? To kill the culprit, the pixie would have had to escape mutilation, and this mutilated one apparently survived a 100% kill rate? Not sure where you’re going with this. Sort it out and you’ll be fine.

And there we have it. Again, I wanna stress, I’m using my best judgement and opinions here, but people are absolutely free to disagree. I hope that the constructive portion, even if it’s something you disagree with, helps see another perspective. Lots of cards here help me see other perspectives as well, and thank you for that. Tune in for something tomorrow. What will it be? The world may never know. Or maybe it will. Or will it?

— @abelzumi​

[gffa]

Hi!  I went through a similar phase as several of you--I never really connected the dots between my own aro/ace qualities and my gravitating towards the Jedi culture until someone else pointed it out and then everything just sort of clicked together in my head in a way that made so much sense. And I think it can be really useful to view the Jedi through this lens of aro/ace culture, not because people are obligated to agree to this interpretation (they absolutely are not obligated to do so!) but because it provides a framework of reference for why not being drawn to romance and/or sex is not a foundational flaw in characters.  That there might even be an entire group of people who find that to be really satisfying and fulfilling--I mean, look at how many people gravitated to this discussion (or were already here) in just one day on one person’s blog on one social media platform.  It’s not hard at all for me to think, yeah, I’m looking at us building aro/ace culture of our own, it’d be easy for an in-universe group of people to do the same, and the lack of romance and/or sex wouldn’t be them suppressing their feelings or lacking something fundamental about the human condition, either. That’s part of why the Jedi mean a lot to me--there are other things as well, I greatly value their “face the shit within yourself, acknowledge that shit, and then let that shit go, because holding onto it is poison that will hurt you”, as someone who came to the same conclusions long before I was ever a Star Wars fan.  I love the worldbuilding, I love the psychic space wizards aspects, I love how goddamned extra they are about everything, etc. But a culture that not only doesn’t prioritize romance/sex, but actively values other things and finds meaning in those things?  That we see they have friendships and connections all over the place, that they find joy and meaning in teaching their students (and learning from their students, just as much as they teach them), that they find joy in helping others and protecting others, that they love through different ways, that they love the galaxy around them, they love their brothers and sisters in the Force, that they love their community and their culture?  That they just don’t seem to really want love and romance? Even those that do feel romantic feelings (setting Anakin aside, of course) still find the Jedi path to be a fulfilling one.  Obi-Wan may have had romantic feelings for Satine (which was apparently fine, it’s about his commitment and where he places it, I’m pretty sure that was the whole point of the Obi-Wan/Satine relationship, to be a narrative foil for Anakin/Padme, where Anakin does prioritize his feelings for Padme over his morals and judgement, which results in disaster of epic proportions) but he is a fully realized character without them.  He loves--we see that with Qui-Gon, Ahsoka, Luke, Anakin--that he cares deeply, that he’s a compassionate person, that he lives a life that he considers satisfying.  He becomes a Force Ghost and we can see him looking out over Endor, at the things that have finally been set back to rights, and he’s happy. Even within canon, the Jedi that feel restless and like something is wrong in this galaxy, they’re not restless because they want romance/sex, but because they want to do more as Jedi.  They want to help more people, they want to do more good in the galaxy, and do you know how much that means to me?  That even those who are dissatisfied (setting aside those that leave the Jedi Order because they want to have romantic relationships, which are treated warmly by the Order and by the people who left, like Tula’s grandmother) don’t have to be shoved back into the same box so many mainstream properties shove the characters into?  That it’s not about how, oh, they want traditional nuclear families, but instead that they want MORE of what the Jedi are--more love as shown through service to others, more love as shown through helping others. Do you know what a relief it is to have a group of people who find fulfillment in the same kind of things that I do?  Friendships and helping others and learning/teaching about the galaxy around them and self-reflection/understanding and accomplishments the like?  That these are treated, not just as valuable, not even just as valuable, but more valuable to these specific people?  Without demonizing that they’re totally cool with other people wanting romantic love?  DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT MEANS TO ME? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS THAT THE JEDI DON’T REALLY SEEM INTERESTED IN ROMANCE OR SEX AND INSTEAD FIND SATISFACTION IN OTHER THINGS?  THAT IT’S NOT ABOUT SUPPRESSING YOURSELF, BUT THAT PEOPLE SOMETIMES JUST REALLY DON’T CARE ABOUT THOSE THINGS.  SOMETIMES EVEN LARGE GROUPS OF PEOPLE. That the Jedi aren’t just “hey, this one Jedi can be read as aro/ace, that’s neat” but instead the Jedi said, “Hey, how about an ENTIRE CULTURE that vibes hard with aro/ace culture?”  That it’s the one mainstream culture that I can think of that really can be interpreted to say, “You’re not just an outlier, but YOU’RE THE NORM in this fictional society.”  Do you know what kind of value that has to me, as someone who only has the tiniest scraps of representation for this character or that character who maybe might be like me, but are rarely confirmed and are almost always The Different One?  Do you know what kind of value it has to me that it’s not just one or two of them, but that THE CULTURE ITSELF is where I would fit in?  That they built an entire society where nearly all of them seem to be Like Me? AN ENTIRE SOCIETY OF PEOPLE I WOULD FIT IN WITH? Which isn’t even getting into the worldbuilding specifics that are so much fun to play with--like, can you imagine what it would be like to have this psychic connection to this vast field of energy in the cosmos?  To be able to sense the feelings of others around you, to feel their presence even when they’re halfway across the galaxy, to just know what they’re feeling?  To be constantly surrounded by the lights of those souls that are gently nudging up against your own?  The warmth and peace of the Jedi Temple that isn’t just what you see/hear/touch, but also what permeates your very thoughts, the soothing balm on your soul that it would be? Can you imagine what it would be like to have this in your head all the time?

A familiar sense of warmth, of belonging, of finding himself part of an endless lattice of connections that held him and everything else, each fixed in its proper place.  A Force. Romance and sex can be wonderful.  But they are not the sole defining qualities of what it means to be sentient or what it means to be fulfilled.  The Force being described as an endless lattice of connections and warmth, that sounds incredibly wonderful and human to me, that sounds incredibly fulfilling and like everything I could possibly want. That is what the Jedi seek and have found.  That is the foundation of their culture.  That is the culmination of their lives. This is why their relationships are so wonderful and I’m so glad that the iconic Jedi relationships, whether we as fans turn towards shipping them or not, whether we joke about how much you can read into them or not, are ones that are all about other aspects that are just as epic and important. Obi-Wan’s most iconic relationships are with Luke, Anakin, Qui-Gon, Ahsoka.  They’re all incredible ones and it’s not to disparage his feelings for Satine (I love them as a pairing, too!), but that his character is defined more by familial and platonic relationships being just as galaxy-shaking as romantic ones might have been in another story?  That means a lot to me. Anakin is, of course, driven by his romantic relationship with Padme, but think about how important his relationships with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are, ones that don’t have to be seen through the lens of romance.  That the ultimate climax of the prequels was Anakin’s fight with Obi-Wan, a familial connection.  That the ultimate climax of TCW was about Ahsoka’s relationship with Anakin, another familial/platonic connection. Ahsoka is a rising star in the SW franchise and her most iconic connections are with Anakin and Rex, both of which do not have to be interpreted through the romantic/sexual lens, that are complete just as they are presented.  That even when she can no longer be a Jedi, even when that possibility is stolen from her, she still doesn’t need to be defined through romance or sex. Yoda has many important, iconic relationships and is such a central character to the mythos and mythology of Star Wars.  His relationship with Luke is one of the most foundational of the OT, his relationship with Obi-Wan is important when you dig further into the supplementary material, his relationship with Anakin creates some of the most memorable scenes of the prequels.  All without ever having him desire a girlfriend.  Hell, the movies had Yaddle right there and you know what?  She wasn’t Yoda’s girlfriend, he wasn’t her boyfriend, that’s not what they were to each other, because they didn’t really seem to have any desire for that. THAT’S ONE OF THE REASONS I LOVE THE JEDI.  They show compassion and care and love all over the place, but they do it through George Lucas’ views on how people should strive to be, and they do it not through romance, but through friendship and helping others and seeking greater understanding of self-knowledge and artistry through the Force, and none of that should ever make them lesser, just as aromantic and asexual people seeking those same things does not make them lesser. We are people who love just as much as anyone else, we have fulfilling and wonderful lives, I don’t know any aro/ace person who would really even want to change themselves, we find ourselves to be perfectly fantastic the way we are.  I don’t feel some part of me is missing, I don’t feel I’m less interesting because I’m aro/ace, I love being the way I am.  I love how much my friends and family mean to me, I love how much joy I get out of caring for animals or helping other people or even simply yelling about Star Wars with them.  My connections to people are just as wonderful as anyone else’s, regardless of how they’re not in the romantic/sexual category. And, so too are the Jedi.

[luisa2swag]

Love me for me (2)

"If you're so great how come you don't know how to tie your shoes properly, doo-doo head ?" I shot back, taking a step closer with my chin up, finger pointing at his untied basketball shoes. Jungkook scoffed "why am I even here arguing with you? You sure talk a lot but you forget that your last name is Mcniplecocker. Thats an instant L"

he towered over you, chest looking larger than usual thanks to the tight white shirt that stuck to his body with sweat. Your eyes darted to his nipple and before he could even muster another insult, His nipples were firmly grasped between your thumbs and index fingers, twisting away with all your might.

Your lips tugged upwards in satisfaction when he let out a yell of surprise and pain.

"What the actual fuck?!" He backed away, freeing himself from your hands. You smirked "Now you know why my last name is Mcniplecocker. Because I twist nipples and I certainly do have a cock!"

You were shameless as you said theses words. Jungkook couldn't even bother thinking of something else to say other than "okay I'm leaving." As you watched him walk away from you in the empty classroom. You saw him turn the doorknob but he did not move.

Was he maybe going to say something?

The tugs at the door knob became more violent with each twist and you could see Jungkook losing patience. His shoulders slumped, "We're locked in."

"W-what?"

[THREE HOURS BEFORE BEING LOCKED]

"W-wow." You looked at the school in amazement, boxes in your hands, you watched as the other male students buzzled around campus with their parents and installed themselves into their dorms.

You didn't have the luxury of being here with your dad. Imagine one of the most wanted criminals in the past setting foot into a place filled with lawyers. Your plan would be immediately dead but most importantly, you'd be behind bars.

This school must of been as old as Harvard. The building resembled the ones they would teach about in history class -You know the medieval ages- only the inside had been done up.

They were the only University that didn't open its gates to every gender which only lured more male heirs from all over the planet.

Parents thought that no girls meant no distractions but what they failed to know was that in 2018,some boys didn't just like girls.

"Hey, do you want help? You seem lost.." startled at the sudden deep voice coming from your right side, you jumped a bit.

Turning around to take a look at who had the audacity to initiate a conversation with your lonely ass. To be completely honest, you had just been standing around, mouth agape, looking at boys passing you by.

Holy shit he's hot

Instantly, you felt blood rush to your cheeks, you hoped that he wouldn't notice. He stood tall compared to you, nose long and eyes almost rectangle-ish. The sun and the ore gold were both jealous of his heavenly skin. You watched as he ran a large hand through his chestnut hair.

"Uh-huh" was all you could muster. A frown draped itself on your features, realizing how dumb and un-dude-ish you just sounded. Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, nothing could prepare you to the fact that a freaking model would be here speaking to your thirsty ass.

"Are you perhaps looking for your dorm? I had tricky time finding mine too in my first year." His voice god his voice.

"Am Taehyung, by the way." He smiled, a smile so adorable you couldn't help but smile back too.

"Am Bob, yeah I think I need help."you smiled sheepishly, holding your box closer to your chest.

"Alright, ill need the number of your dorm."

"67-b"

"Ahhh, that's the law dorms. So you're a law student huh? So am I." He seemed excited. Long legs already taking the lead to find your dorm.

"Are you a third year student or ?" You asked, now entering the dorm you presumed to be yours.

"No, just a second year." He smiled.

You both walked in a comfortable silence until he stopped infront of a door. "67-b is here." He said with the nod of his head, leaning against the wall near the door.

"Do we usually have roommates?" You read that since it was such a prestigious and little school, they would give you your own room but you needed to be sure. You didn't want any surprises. "Yeah it'll just be you in there." He affirmed with his usual dashing smile.

"Official classes start in two days but if you want, you could still go check out the classrooms. There won't be any teachers so make sure you leave the door open or else you might be surprised."

"Oh okay." You didn't bother dropping your voice a couple octaves, sure that in the near future where you could be possibly drunk or inattentive, It'd royally fuck you up. You found it to be a better idea to stick to your normal low but warm voice and let the guys think that "oh, his voice sounds slightly feminine!"

You took a step back, hoodie floating around your body and hiding your womanly curves the best it could, you bowed slightly "thank you so much. I hope I'll see you around school!" You actually did hope to see him around .

Not only was he devilishly handsome but very sweet. You wouldn't mind spending time with him all while gawking at his beauty greater than the Greek gods. "If you want, in about three hours I'll be able to hang. I would've been available way sonner if it wasn't for the fact that we both need to unpack a little bit. We could meet up at your new law class? What do you say?" He pointed finger guns at you, only making you blush more.

Fuck he doesn't even know I am a girl and here I am blushing like a schoolgirl just because he invited me to hang out.

"I'd love to I-I mean yeah, that be cool dude." Awkwardly, you raised a fist in the air which he happily bumped. "Okay I'll be off now!"

And just like that, the chestnut haired boy was out of your feet with hop of his own. Leaving you to unpack with the sound of 90's music from your cellphone.

Your room was a decent size, a simple bed on the left with a desk on the right, a tiny kitchen area and out and down the hallways were the shared bathrooms.

You took out the basics, some clothes, toothbrush, the frozen goods your dad had cooked you and bedsheets. You'd finish up your room later,after seeing Taehyung.

Yeah, I'll do this as soon as I get back!

[thirty minutes before being locked]

Your room looked neat. There were still some boxes here and there but you promised yourself to unpack them as soon as you got back.

Now you had changed into a comfortable black t-shirt and joggers.You made sure to duck-tape your breast, of course.

You stepped outside, the sun hung lower but still shined and the wind blew, giving you a comfortable breeze. The other students also seemed to take this evening as a chance to explore the campus more.

You watched as two boys ran, almost bumping you on their way. The shorter one with plump lips turned and blurted a bunch of apologizes before his taller lean friend dragged him by the collar. "Cmon Jimin, we need to get him !" And they were gone, leaving you to wonder exactly who they were going to get.

You continued making your way to the class, eventually finding it.

It was spacious just like in the movies about college life. You quickly found yourself a the front where the teacher desk was but before that you made sure to keep the door open, starring into space and waiting for the young man. You heard foot-steps and a smile already adorned your features.

You turned around, waiting to be met with the chestnut haired boy but you were just met face to face with a chestnut haired boy, that wasn't your chestnut haired boy.

"Erm, sorry." You squirmed away as the buff boy with the angular nose reached to grab something behind you.

"Were you really trying to steal the notes professor had prepared for me?" He took out a sheet of paper almost out of thin air and you just stared in amazement until it hit you.

Hold on, did this guy just accuse me ?

"W-what? I didn't even know that was there. I don't even know who you are!" Brows twisted together in confusion, you couldn't help but dart your eyes to the paper and to his piercing gaze, examining me like a corpse.

I gulped when he crossed his arms over his chest, oblivious to his flexing, he stood about one head and a half taller than me.

"You're lying. Everyone knows me." He scoffed, confident in the words he spoke as I blinked away, still In confusion.

"Come again?" I tried, I really genuinely had no clue who this dude was. I mean yeah he's kinda cute or whatever but with an attitude like that, I don't see him having any friends.

"Of course you would play dumb, well you are dumb for trying to steal my notes. Maybe you should take the initiative like me and ask teachers to prepare you notes of everything you'll have to study for the semester." His thin upper lip twitched upwards, his eyes trailing over my body, probably judging.

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge lil punk, school hasn't even started yet and to inform you, i am the smartest student here, I don't need your bitchass notes to be able to catch up on class before class has even started."ooooh I burned his bunny looking ass!

A smirk adorned my full lips when I noticed the blush spread across his cheeks like wildfire. I watched as his confident facade slowly broke when he took a step back.

"I guess you really don't know me then, my name is Jeon Jungkook." Now he was the one with the smirk.

I deadpanned, "Uh, yeah I totally know you. Omg I cant believe I didn't realize sonner!" Arms crossed, I rolled my eyes.

"Think harder dumbass. Jeon Jungkook, doesn't that ring any bells?"

I thought hard, past all the cat memes, gta on PlayStation 2 cheat codes, my club penguin password, the pin of my first iPod. Past all the unnecessary things my brain stored I finally found what he has hinting.

All boys : Great Jeon University

It couldn't be, no .

Or could it be ? With my luck it could. His smile grew larger as he saw my eyes widen in shock. "Don't tell me this is some crappy wattpad plot where your family happens to own this school?" I already dreaded the answer I knew I would get. "Yes it is." His chest proudly rose.

"Well I couldn't care less , dumbass." I stated, indifferent.

"I just told you that my family basically owns this place and you don't give a shit?" Index pointed at my face, he asked dumbfounded. Not sure if my lack of respect for him should be a good thing or not. "You have a lot of guts for saying that to the great Jeon."

"If you're so great how come you don't know how to tie your shoes properly, doo-doo head ?" I shot back, taking a step closer with my chin up, finger pointing at his untied basketball shoes. Jungkook scoffed "why am I even here arguing with you? You sure talk a lot but you forget that your last name is Mcniplecocker. Thats an instant L" Your eyes twitched confused, how did he know your name? Then your orbs wondered down to your shirt who haired had gifted you as a joke with your fake name written just above your left tit.

he towered over you, chest looking larger than usual thanks to the tight white shirt that stuck to his body with sweat. Your eyes darted to his nipple and before he could even muster another insult, His nipples were firmly grasped between your thumbs and index fingers, twisting away with all your might.

Your lips tugged upwards in satisfaction when he let out a yell of surprise and pain.

"What the actual fuck?!" He backed away, freeing himself from your hands. You smirked "Now you know why my last name is Mcniplecocker. Because I twist nipples and I certainly do have a cock!"

[taehyung pov]

I don't remember the building being so far... I entered the law block, nothing but the sound of my sneakers against the wood floor could be heard. Hallways were clear and so was the sky this evening. I smiled thinking of the new friend I had made.

Pat pat pat I whipped my head around st the sudden running noise "Jimin? Namjoon?" My brows arched in confusion, I watched how they frantically started shouting my name.

I looked back to the front

The class where I had so kindly asked you to meet up with me was maybe twenty steps away

I couldn't just blow you off, no that wasn't something I'd want at all.

But with a blink of an eye and a stumbling Jimin, we we're passed the door and left behind a loud clacking noise. In fear of having accidentally closed the door shut, I twisted my neck to look back all while running with the two grown man looped around my arms. "J-Jimin, the d-door!" I let out breathless, heart thumping

"Guys -wait there's someone-" Jimin quickly interrupted "Yoongi snuck a girl on campus!" I looked back again, wishing that my gut feeling was wrong, wishing I hadn't just locked someone in a classroom.

She might be late, everyone comes late nowadays! I reassured myself.

With a aggressive tug of my sleeve from Namjoon, I realized that I didn't have a choice.

I'll come back later, I promise.

[Narrator pov] You were shameless as you said theses words. Jungkook couldn't even bother thinking of something else to say other than "okay I'm leaving." As you watched him walk away from you in the empty classroom. You saw him turn the doorknob but he did not move.

Was he maybe going to say something?

The tugs at the door knob became more violent with each twist and you could see Jungkook losing patience. His shoulders slumped, "We're locked in."

"W-what?"

[luccislegs]

Hiiiiii, it's been a while since I've send a request. Can I request Law and Kid fallen in love to a mermaid? ｡◕‿◕｡♥️

small warning for mild language. courtesy of kid.

law:

He meets you on his trip through Fishman Island. He’s definitely not intending to have a mermaid join the crew, but you’re so fascinated by his sub that whenever he or the others work on it, you’re right there, eager to learn. And something about your overeagerness and interest warms him to you.

The sub really took a battering on the trip to the island, plus with the log pose needing to be reset, they’re there for a while. Supplies are hard to come by, and after they meet you he realizes how lucky they are. You know exactly where to go to get the supplies they need and because you’re a local, they’re more willing to help out.

The second night they’re there, Law can’t sleep. Not unusual, but he’s also never been on an island that’s so hostile to people. He can’t blame them but he doesn’t want to have to hurt anyone if he can help it. He pretends it’s just him, but he knows it’s because if he did, you would get backlash and you’ve been so kind to them…

As he wanders through the streets, he sees you. Before he can call out to you, you catch sight of him and smile widely, waving your arm above your head. He smiles slightly and stops, waiting for you to reach him. 

“Hi, Law. What’re you doing out so late?” you ask, falling into step beside him. 

Law hums, looking up towards the dark bubble surrounding Fishman Island, forgetting for a moment he can’t see the sky from the depths of the ocean. “Just taking a walk. What about you, ___-ya?”

“Oh, I was just going to get some dinner. I spent so much time on the sub I forgot to eat,” you answer, pointing to a restaurant a little ways down the street. “Have you eaten anything?”

No, and he had no intentions of eating either, but you’re smiling so adorably at him that he can’t actually refuse you. “No. Mind if I join you?”

If possible, your smile widens and you nod, grabbing his arm and leading him to the restaurant.

The next day, you’re back. And the day after that, and the day after that. Until it’s the last day. They’ll be leaving in the morning, and Law can see that you’re feeling down. Since the first day, he’s met up with you a few times. You’ve taken him all over Fishman Island and wormed your way into his heart with your infectious smile and enthusiasm. On the last night, he seeks you out instead of the other way around, largely because you aren’t where he usually meets you.

He remembers there’s some place you mentioned going to when you feel low, so he makes his way there, getting lost a few times along the way. As soon as he reaches the place, he finds you sitting on a bench, watching multitudes of fish swim back and forth outside the bubble. You’re wearing a pensive look, a frown on your usually smiling face.

He sits beside you without saying anything, and the silence stretches on until it’s almost unbearable. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you turn to him. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, and his heart tugs in his chest. In his typical fashion, he ignores it, pushing it down as nothing more than anxiety about leaving tomorrow. 

But he can’t ignore it when you lean into him, hiding your face in his shoulder. Your soft fingers wrap around his as you whisper how much you’re going to miss him. There’s an annoying clenching in his stomach at your words, and his head swims a little as he acknowledges that he’s going to miss you too. With a heavy sigh he wraps his arm around you, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Can I come with you? Law, please, I want to see the world,” you say, still into his shoulder. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you wait for his answer, expecting a refusal and rejection of your feelings. You’re laying your heart on the line with one of the Worst Generation, not known for their generosity or pleasantness, but Law is so different from what you’ve been told. He’s quiet and distant, but you know underneath his hard shell he’s warm and caring. You’ve seen glimpses of it, and you’ve fallen for him hard because of it.

“I…don’t know if that’s a good idea, ___-ya,” he answers, resting his chin on your head. He’s got plans in the works, and he doesn’t want to hurt you. It might be better for you to stay here, where you’ll be safe. It’ll hurt for a while, but you’ll eventually get over him.

“I see,” you say, but instead of pulling away, you curl closer. You haven’t looked up at him yet, but he can tell by your hoarse voice that you’ve begun crying. It hurts, but you aren’t going to force him to take you along if he doesn’t want you. 

But you aren’t going to let your night become any worse, so you stay with him until the city starts to rouse. You’ve dozed off in his arms, and when he shakes you awake, you look up at him with bleary eyes.

“I’ve got to leave, ___-ya,” he whispers, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He can see the glittery hint of tears again and sighs, pressing his head against your forehead. “Please, it’s for your own good. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“How could I, if you’re there?” you whisper back, tilting your head back enough that your nose brushes his. You’re so close now that you can feel his breath on your lips, and he doesn’t seem interested in pulling back. His eyes are half lidded, boring into yours.

“I can’t promise I will be, ___-ya. I have something I need to do, and I intend to send the crew on ahead of me. I don’t even know if I’ll survive.”

Your breath hitches and the tears spill over but you still answer him. “Then I’ll wait. I know you’ll come back, Law. But I don’t want to wait here. Please.”

“Stubborn brat,” he whispers, just before his lips cover yours. Your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, pressing yourself against his chest. There’s a certain anxiety in agreeing to bring you, because he isn’t sure he’s capable of caring for you the way you need while he goes on his mission for revenge. But a greater part of him, a selfish part that’s weak for you, makes him give in. Even if it isn’t for long, he wants you at his side and waiting for his return. 

Maybe you’ll give him a reason to survive.

kid:

In typical Kid fashion, his entrance into Fishman Island is made with a bang. Right off the bat, he’s intimidating and a little rude, but something about them draws your attention. Maybe it’s his fiery red hair or his equally fiery attitude, but you find a way to make yourself useful to them by showing them to the nearest bar. 

The patrons inside fall silent when you enter with your newfound friends before breaking out into soft whispers as you pass. You know making friends with humans is usually taboo, but you choose to ignore that this time. Killer is the one that invites you to stay, and you float in your air bubble beside the table, listening to Kid and Killer banter back and forth and tell stories about their adventures. They sound grand and you’re enraptured.

Over the course of the next few days, they grow used to your presence. They can’t quite figure out your fascination with them, but Kid feels a certain pride that he’s attracted a mermaid. He doesn’t care for– or about– the looks he garners when he’s with you, but slowly it begins to concern him how they’re going to treat you when they leave. 

In the meantime, you show them all over Fishman Island. King Neptune comes down from his palace once to pass through the streets, and you reign Kid in from making a total ass of himself, impressing even himself. He’s a little weirded out at how easily he listened to you, and then it dawns on him he might actually be developing feelings for you. At first, he passes it off as just an interest in a pretty mermaid, then just lust, until he finally accepts that he actually might like you.

It’s the final day and you’re hanging around again, but you’re also moping. Heat and Killer have been trying to cheer you up for hours, telling you all about how they’ll come back and see you, but that only seems to be making it worse.

Finally, when Kid sees you turn away and swipe at your eyes, he tells the other two to f*ck off and approaches you himself. Taking your shoulders, he turns you to face him.

You look up into an apathetic face, his mouth drawn into a grimace. The tears that had started to fall are quickly wiped away, and apology spilling from your lips for being so weak.

He scoffs, cupping your chin in his hand and turning your face up to him again. “Have you considered coming with us? It’d be pretty neat to have a mermaid aboard.”

There’s something strange about his voice. It lacks the usual confidence, and his normal smirk is still absent. He’s frowning in an uncharacteristic way as he stares down at you, like he wants to say something more but he can’t.

He can’t figure out how to explain how deeply you’ve crawled under his skin. You’re so happy and sweet, but the way you don’t let him railroad you is attractive to him. He hasn’t seen you fight, doesn’t even know if you can, but he doesn’t care. He’ll train you to defend yourself when he can’t be around to protect you, that’s no problem. Words and emotions aren’t his strong suit, so he goes for his usual tactic.

Your face is still his hands, so he leans down close enough that you have to go cross-eyed to see him, his request whispered against your lips, and you nod. 

An instant later you’re filled with the taste of rum. His tongue delves into your mouth just once before he pulls back, and his lipstick is smeared around his lips. You giggle, covering your mouth with your hands as you realize it’s probably smeared around yours as well, but also out of nervous embarrassment.

“Do you really want me to go with you? It sounds so fun but…I don’t think I’m as strong as you,” you say, resting your hand on his chest.

He smirks as you reveal your kiss swollen lips, stained with traces of his red lipstick. He likes the sight and traces your bottom lip with his thumb. “Of course you aren’t. But I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you wrong, ___.”

A shiver runs up your spine at his words. They’re said with such conviction that you’re sure he means them and it makes you wonder what you’re getting yourself into, but you’re nodding before you realize it.

“Okay, Captain. When do we leave?”

[popculturebuffet]

Darkwing Duck Reviews: Tiff of the Titans

Uh-Oh, Gizmoduck Comes to town! In the first of a series of reviews building up to Just Us Justice Ducks,  the dopey, arrogant, anti-charasmatic, national embarrassment heads to St. Canard to guard a super weapon from F.O.W.L. Naturally, he ends up being more of a problem for our hero than the actual bad guys. Also a look at Tad Stone’s claims the series isn’t in the same universe as Ducktales.  Full review and recap commissioned by @weirdkev27​ under the cut

This review, much like Death, Taxes and Thanos, was inevitable. I’d been planning to watch and review the first appearances of each of the justice ducks and fearsome five as my next step in watching Darkwing duck anyway, and while I’ve already got one member’s appearance in the wings anyway, I’ll get to that tomorrow or Saturday just in time for Halloween, hint hint, Kev pushed this one into the queue with a commission and I  was happy to take the side trip to see just what the Darkwing version of Gizmoduck and Steelbeak, two of my favorites in the reboot, were like originally. So welcome folks to the build to the greatest superhero team made up of ducks of all time, let’s get quackin. 

We open, here in Duckburg, where the Eggmen are breaking in. Sadly they do not have the master plan, but they are here to steel the Comarant, a super powerful land, sea and air device the military is storing there. They instead find Gizmoduck! Who makes a good first impression, being a hoaky superman parody in iron man’s costume in this continuity, but it’s a nice way to contrast to Darkwing’s batman parody with a touch of Sandman.. the pulp one not the neil gaiman one.  Sadly he doesn’t have a cool gas mask but the Darkwing Duck costume is iconic without it. 

Point is the eggmen are easily repelled, though they do get away by blasting Gizmo with a tank. The General in charge is thankful for Gizmoduck’s help, but notes the Comarant will be heading to St. Canard soon for a demonstration at the big air show, and asks that Giz go over and protect it, maybe even work with Darkwing to protect it. Though Gizmo shoots that down, and not only insults Darkwing but says he’s not sure if he’s good or bad. While the latter comment did sour me on the guy.. research bears out Darkwing has been framed once or twice, and my own experience with the pilot saw him you know breaking out of jail and basically clamming superheroes are above the law, so I COULD get why someone wouldn’t trust him, even if Giz’s attitude about it still isn’t great. So fenton quick changes behind a sign and heads off to see his old buddy Launchpad.  A quick aside before we get going this episode doesn’t so much torch Tad Stone’s retroactive claim this isn’t the same universe as Ducktales, as burn it to ashes, take a whiz on those ashes and send each separate ash on a seperate probe to the farthest reaches of space. This episode not only has a cameo by Scrooge on a billboard.. but it’s one for DUCKBURG. Where Gizmoduck is said to be from. He also knows launchpad well, and vice versa, and outright mentions McDuck Manor. the episode couldn’t be saying “this is the same universe as ducktales’ harder if Scrooge himself showed up and started ranting about a Sea Monster eating his ice cream. I do like and respect Tad Stones, but I will never like or respect this claim of his and even if HE had that idea in his head during production of the show, it’s very clear everyone else including Disney who greenlit the Darkwing Duck comics explicitly connecting the two universes, felt it was a shared universe, and there’s really no reason they can’t coexist. 

If it’s because “Well launchpad wouldn’t leave scrooge”.. besides the fact Scrooge tried to fire him MULTIPLE times, it’s not farfetched Scrooge would put him in charge of a hangar both because he trusts him.. and to get rid of him since he doesn’t like Launchpad very much. Plus Donald has to come back from his tour of duty sometime and likely could easily do Launchpad’s job as pilot, as he did in the source material. My point is there’s tons of ways to write the man out easily, and he could just as easily be doing both jobs like in the reboot. This feels like a weird, unnecessary retcon no one wanted and everyone just politely ignores, like the creators of Doug saying he and Patti didn’t end up together after High School. Which even then makes more sense than this claim, since at least there I get the creators not thinking a high school romance would last forever. That’s fair.. it’s just not something fans really wanted to hear after spending two separate series and a movie getting them together. It would be like if Girl Meets World had revealed Cory and Topanga had divorced. Yes it’d be possible since they’d broken up twice over the course of the series, but no one wanted that, why would you do that. I’m getting off topic, the point is a few breakups aside Doug and Patti clearly married eventually, and Darkwing Duck and Ducktales are in the same universe. Sometimes you just have to ignore Word of God for your own sanity.

Back at the actual episode we cut to Steelbeak’s Bowling Alley Hideout... and I do love a job that allows me to say things like that. But in a really fantastic bit Steelbeak is bowling his minions over as punishment for failure.. even though they have a valid reason but eh he’s the bad guy and he has to get his bowling average up for FOWL’s bowling team somehow. Their insurance covers evil punishment related accidents anyways, they’ll be fine. 

But yeah let’s talk about Steelbeak for a second. I honestly hadn’t seen any of the original version so I was curious.. and he’s really damn awesome. Rob Paulsen always does a great job though and is always a pleasure, but he really does a good job here and with the contrast in him: He’d seem like a dumb thug, what with his gangster accent and general cockiness and swagger.. but he backs it up with great combat and even greater planning. He’s a schemer, a fighter and damn if he isn’t fun to watch.  It also makes me love the reboot version even more. While I already loved him for being played by Jason Mantzokus, being enjoyably dim, while also still enough of a threat to be freaking cool, it’s even cooler knowing he’s still fundamentally the same character. Much like Drake he’s simply been tweaked a bit. For drake it was softening the edges since Ducktales isn’t as broad a show, and neither will the darkwing reboot i’m betting, so his ego and selfishness is sanded down considerably. For Steelbeak it’s giving him an actual origin: Instead of starting at the top of FOWL, he’s starting as a very competent but very wet behind the ears and full of himself agent, working his way up to becoming justifably full of himself like the original show. He has the same swagger and badassery, he’s just not a master planner yet and he’ll get there. Like many of the reboot characters, he’s simply an already great character given some extra depth and rounding out. I love both and can’t wait to see him again next ep and hopefully he’ll show up in the Darkwing reboot so they can go for round 2. 

So with that out of the way, Darkwing naturally interrupts, and cleans house with his gas gun, forcing Steelbeak and his crew to literally go underground into the sewers. This successfully fools drake, and Steelbeak bemoans how both Darkwing and Gizmoduck have been thwarting his plans.. until he gets a great idea; pit them against each other so he can pilfer the comerant while their too busy fighting. It’s a classic supervillain tactic, and one that works perfectly because one of them’s an egotist and a dick and the other is also that but with more style and likeability.  Back at Drake’s place, Gosalyn and Honker are watching a horror movie they clearly aren’t supposed to till Drake and launchpad come back in via their easy chairs flipping them in from Darkwing Tower which is just.. really cool. I like it. I also like that much like the Shakespeare bust in Wayne Manor, Darkwing has his own neat statue to provide acess to his lair... a tiny bronze statue of Basil from the Great Mouse Detective.. I REALLY need to fucking watch that film but it’s a nice nod. But yeah Launchpad brought them back because he feels drake could use a break while Drake refuses to stop because crime never stops and he doesn’t have time for it and your usual self destructive bollocks. It’s interrupted by a knock at the door? 

It’s Fenton! Whose stopped in to see his old buddy launchpad, who is happy to see his old friend and the two catch up, though Drake dosen’t like the interuption because Classic Drake is kind of a grumpus. Fenton naturally is here because Gizmoduck is but says he’s doing a job for the military.. which makes no sense but given Drake doesn’t know what he does and Launchpad dares to be stupid, if not nearly as stupid as his reboot version, no one questions it. When Fenton says he needs to find a hotel Launchpad, being Launchpad, invites him to stay and while Fenton watches the movie with the kids, Drake wants him gone because you know he has a secret identity to keep and a case to work on and they don’t know if they can trust him with it. It’s fair.. but since this is Drake he almost handles it with the subtly of a howitzer. But before he can try to literally throw Fenton out on his ass, a news report comes on about an attack at a local theater and both head off to take care of it.. we also get a nice moment where both react to it with the same words at the same time.  Fenton.. is actually really likeable. He’s a bit awkward, more in that he sort of barges in and makes himself comfy.. but it’s very easy to see from this and the one Ducktales episode of his i’ve seen where the utterly marvelous reboot version gets some traits from: his nervousness, his pluckness, his lack of thinking things through ocasionally when he’s not overthinking them. Fenton is charming. The issue is once he switches on the costume he goes from utterly charming to punchable REALLL quick. I’ll explain my problems with his alter ego in a sec. 

At the theater Steelbeak fakes it to look like Darkwing’s doing the bombing, if half haphazardly and leaves Darkwing with the bomb so when Gizmo shows up he thinks he’s responsible. Darkwing naturally says it wasn’t him, but Gizmo dosen’t buy it and asks if he’s so good how come he wears a mask... says the guy in a helmeted visor’s whose only defense when that’s pointed out is it came with the suit. Which yes is a joke.. but it fails to land and instead of being funny just makes Gizmo look like a hypocritical dick whose assuming someone is evil based on flimsy evidence, and what’s very obviously a setup. it makes him come off as the biggest dumbass alive instead of this world’s superman and that is annoying. More ranting about him in a minute. We do end up getting an incredibly funny bit where the two end up arguing over who gets to defuse a bomb, with both wrestling over it till Gizmoduck takes care of it and both fall into the theater. Gizmoduck tries to arrest Darkwing who ignores him and runs off.  The next day the Mallard family, including Honker naturally, watches Gizmoduck get a parade, a key to the city and other good stuff on the news while Drake sulks before turning it off. And yeah i’ve waited long enough let’s talk about this version of Gizmoduck and why he does not work. I get in theory he’s supposed to be “The Cape”, minus the cape: The big cheese that everyone looks up to and loves to Darkwing’s  dark avenger of the night, a parody of that whose also really dumb. The issue is two fold. The first is .. the classic archtypical cape type chracter has been parodied to hell and back by 2020. He’s been a monster, an asshole and as with here an idiot. And even for then a superman parody, if not in apperance or powers but in treatment, whose really dumb wasn’t very new. 

And you CAN parody a big silver age type hero: Justice League International did so well without being too overt, having most of the team either annoyed or actively hostile to Shazam/Captain Marvel. But it was done well there because well.. billy’s a very corny very earnest and likeable kid in an adult’s body. To us he’s charming and loveable. But to a bunch of actual adults he’d be offputting at best and annoying at worst. While some have been annoyed at how he was handled, I a fan of both JLI and Shazam liked it and thought it was an interesting take. Another REALLY good and REALLY hilarious take on this is from fellow superhero action comedy Danny Phantom, one of my favorites and one I need to revisit. One episode had Danny split himself in two so he could crimefight and have fun with his friends resulting in one self whose a burnt out slacker, and another whose an over the top crimefighter who says things like “you Felonious fiend!” And “This looks like a job for the vacuum cleaner!”. It’s a damn good episode. My point is it’s been better done before and since. 

What doesn’t help is the episode tries to paint it as equal, since Darkwing’s problem in part is Gizmoduck stealing his thunder.. but it doesn’t work. Darkwing is a fully fleshed out character we know and love who despite his huge ego and rampant jackassery, is a decent person whose fought hard for St. Canard, loves his daughter and most damingly... is entertainingly sickish. Gizmoduck’s dickery just makes him come off less likeable and incredibly dense, while Darkwing’s is part of his charm and, along with his ego, has backfired enough to balance it out. Gizmo just doesn’t get comeuppance for his behavior, and instead gets rewarded with a parade, a key to the city, cheerleaders and Gosalyn looking up to him just for having powers in his gadgets. And really his methods aren’t that different from dark wing: While Darkwing is secretive, a loner and uses gadgets.. Gizmoduck’s suit is basically one BIG gadget, and he refuses to see. And I get that’s probably the joke but it just. doesn’t. LAND. It just makes him insufferable. And as far as I can tell in the original show he wasn’t: he was an awkward dork we root for like in the reboot, not a gloryhogging jackass whose squandered his good will long before he gets Darkwing isn’t evil and tries working with him to the point I don’t care by the time that happens: He’s already been so obnoxious it dosen’t make up for it. Maybe later appearances are better but he’s just a chore to watch in costume here. And that’s WITHOUT comparing him to the 2017 version, one of my favorites there, one of the best animated superheroes i’ve seen in a long time, and a toughly likeable character who struggles due to his superhero identity but took it up for exactly the right reasons and wants to help people. Darkwing Gizmoduck thinks he’s the cape and an inspiration when a good guy when he’s worse than the guy he hates at times. Reboot Gizmo is an honest, decent guy who simply wants to help people and use the gizmotech as a way to do that, to help change the world for the better and save the helpless, and only clashes with Darkwing due to his ego and lack of understanding that Gizmoduck and him really aren’t that different. Finally if THIS is why Tad Stones wants them to be different universes, because this Fenton is different from the Ducktales one in personality.. then that’s on HIM. That’s on him for writing this version poorly or letting him get written so poorly and not on the fans who had no reason not to connect a dot. God this character was disappointing and hopefully when I watch more of him at work in Ducktales, he isn’t this obnoxious, nor will he hopefully be in his sequel episodes.  Thankfully moving on Darkwing gets to work, because you know he has experience, and finds Steelbeak trying to pilfer the cormorant but Captain Clueless interrupts and tries to arrest him. The two then finally fight and while it’s sadly short, it’s a fun clash and I genuinely hope the reboot has it’s own fight with them, as given how damn good they are at fight scenes, it’s bound to be even more awesome. But Steelbeak gets away, and uses the comarant’s secret weapon.. a giant fake egg that drops a giant pile of yolk to drown them. Gizmo finally realizes he’s been fighting the wrong guy but our hero's are now running out of time. Darkwing , being the actually capable one here, has Gizmo uses his propeller to beat the eggs and the two head off.. though after a funny bit where Gizmo breaks the Ratcatcher’s sidecar Darkwing lets him use his spare tier, which is huge and likely intended for the main vehicle. Good stuff.  The two get after Steelbeak and while Gizmo makes me pray for death but death won’t come we get a fun battle with Steelbeak including Steelbeak using his beak to bite down and destroy the gas gun. It’s a damn fun bit I must say. But eventually the good guys win, disable the comarant and Darkwing beats Steelbeak. The day is save, FOWL is foiled, our heroes are on shaky but better terms, and Drake and Fenton depart on good if equally shaky terms, before arguing about which of them is better. And we’re out.  Final Thoughts: This.. was a disappointingly mixed bag. Gizmoduck REALLY drug down what was otherwise a good episode with a great concept: Bringing in a hero whose stronger and more popular than Darkwing.. but mostly uses it to make Darkwing look good, which he didn’t need, and make Gizmoduck look REALLY bad, intentionally or otherwise. Steelbeak is a delight and his plan, and the egg trap, are really good, and as mentioned there are enough good set pieces to prevent this from being a terrible episode.. but as an old friend says for me time and time again...

[waystobuild-blog]

Who REALLY Deserves a Miraculous

First off, please understand that these are my personal opinions and all. I’d love to have conversations about whether you agree or not. So these days there’s a lot of hate on Miraculous and honestly, that’s fair. This was a show that started out with so much potential, but they kinda really dropped the ball on it. I’ve got a lot of different opinions on the show and maybe I’ll talk about them at a later date, but for now… Let’s talk about how I think the Miraculouses should be handled because oh boy.

So… Miraculouses in the show are handled in the worst way. Everybody gets one. You sit next to Marinette in class, congratulations? You qualify to be a superhero. Awesome, right? So many people get these things to the point that new holders are arguably not even all that special anymore because it doesn’t really feel earned it’s just there.

First off, let’s talk about who has Miraculouses and whether or not I feel they should actually have one or not.

Marinette and Adrien are givens. Main characters and both have a lot to gain. Sure. Alya. She’s definitely earned it. Nino. Honestly, I stand by that he really shouldn’t have one as the current show stands. He’s definitely come his own as a hero, but he doesn’t really have much to gain when it comes to being a hero or having a Kwami. The only thing I can really think of is that maybe if they used Wayzz as way for him to learn to be a little more serious with his life and for Wayzz to mellow out a little. That’s really the only direction I can see it being valid, but otherwise, nah. Chloe is an amazing pick and I’ll get more into why later on. Luka barely has a character to begin with and now he gets to be a superhero too? Wonderful. Max really shouldn’t have one and I’ll get into why later on. Kagami is an amazing pick. Alix is great, but she’s another later. Kim is a pretty good pick and we’ll talk about why, later. Now a lot of the characters that are holders are because Marinette is the one giving out Miraculouses and I think the easiest way for the show to have avoided this is to have continued to have Fu do his job as Guardian and continue to pick who gets a Miraculous. Maybe he can ask Marinette and Adrien who they think would be neat but allow the ultimate decision to come down to him. This would also solve a little bit of the problem that Chat doesn’t get to know who anybody is but Marinette getting to know everybody.

But now comes my criteria of what should qualify a character to get a Kwami and why? Well, this can be summed up into four different categories and of course, I’ll be giving examples as to who I think does or does not fit some of them.

1. If their character arc seems to lead towards them getting a Miraculous and being a hero. Pretty plain and simple. If a character has really shown to kinda be inching their way towards the world of Miraculouses then yeah, they should be one. Alya is the best example of this and is honestly the most deserving character. Not only was she Marinette’s biggest supporter but she was also Ladybug’s. She was constantly throwing herself into the fray and had even helped out times where she could. Doesn’t help that she was Marinette’s first choice to be Ladybug in Origins. Alya earned it. Nino on the other hand is the opposite of this to me and I maintain that he should’ve stayed a civilian. He’s great with Adrien but has zero connection to Chat Noir and very few times has been involved with Akuma attacks outside of being one. He hasn’t really earned it as a hero, nor does his character or arc seem to be leading him towards one. I offered the idea for maybe the whole learning from Wayzz thing but I dunno. But hey, that leads me into my next one.

2. They can somehow benefit from getting a Miraculous or Kwami. Some characters show that they need a Miraculous or a Kwami for different reasons or another. This is more of the idea, if they can learn something or need a friend in their life or can become stronger because of being a hero and having a Kwami, then yeah give them one. Enter Chloe. Chloe is a terrible person, but as Queen Bee you thrust a lot of power that she doesn’t really know what to do with in front of her. Getting a Miraculous forces her to try and be a better person. Kagami on the other hand, is someone who can gain a lot from having a Kwami. We’ve seen how strict her mother is and understand that she doesn’t have many real friends because of this. She can’t relax or kick back because of that. But with a Kwami in her life, she has a sort of special friend that her mother wouldn’t be able to take away from her and I honestly think that’s great. It would also allow her to grow and change and maybe even begin to start to get some of her own real friends with the help of her Kwami. Category 2 can even be shown in the main characters of the show. Marinette becomes braver and far more confident as Ladybug and as such, this begins to bleed into her average life as Marinette and Tikki has been shown to be a great moral compass. Adrien on the other hand is allowed to have the freedom he desires as Chat Noir just like Kagami. Now as someone who doesn’t match this category, let’s talk about Max. Max getting a Miraculous is cool. But aside from that, I genuinely don’t think he needs one in his life. He’s got Markov for one and since the series has started he’s become more and more sure of himself on his own save for the occasional depressive moment. I think he’d honestly be better off as a sort of Oracle character if you wanted to get him involved, but otherwise he’s pretty good as is. I maintain that even though I love this character to death, he doesn’t need a Miraculous or a Kwami.

3. If they somehow have a tie to a Miraculous. If a character has come into contact with a Miraculous or if something is later revealed to be a Miraculous in disguise, I think it’s earned. The only one that fits here is Alix. But I thought it was clear that her watch was somehow special and the reveal that it was a Miraculous was great. I think she earned it. Plus, she also fits into the next category.

4. Admittedly, if they seem capable and it suits them. Pretty much, if a character just has the qualities that make it seem like they’d be a good superhero or at the very least a fun one. This is kinda the reason I’m okay with Kim. Kim is pretty warmhearted, a fun guy and all around good fun. A Miraculous suits him.

Ivan Ivan is an easy category 2. He’s got his anger issues, but he’s also really shy. Give him a Miraculous to help him work on both his confidence and maybe keeping his anger under control. Match him up with something that makes it where looking at things calmly that can make him learn a little more about himself and the world around him.

Marc Marc’s got a lot of shyness that can be worked out like Ivan. Give him a little more self confidence with a Miraculous. It’d be neat to see that translated for him.

Sabrina Sabrina is the one I think deserves it the most and like the others falls into category 2, but on an even greater scale. Being a superhero would give her some self reliance from an emotional standpoint. Skills that she could begin to apply to her real life that could get her away from Chloe or at the very least change their relationship, where they can actually become equals. But seeing Sabrina become stronger and stand on her own would be wonderful.

Nathaniel As for Nathaniel, he falls more in line with category 1. It’s true that he doesn’t have much of a character arc. But what he does have is constant interest in Ladybug and very clearly wants to be a hero of some kind. If they wanted to, they could build upon that and have it lead up to him becoming a hero. I think he’d make a great pick. Plus, a little bravery like the others putting him a bit in category 2. But that’s all I’ve got. Now of course, I don’t think that having a Miraculous should be a fix to all character development nor do I think that it should be the only way characters can develop. It’s just that I think when you have this focal point of your universe, it should not be thrown around like it’s nothing. Miraculouses in canon, just don’t feel special to me anymore and I think that more thought and consideration should be put into it over what’s cool and I think following this guideline would help.

But these are just my silly opinions at the end of the day and maybe I’m just overthinking a kid’s show. Haha.

[knking]

Memory 16 : The King’s Secret

Part 3/6

Written by TK, Illustrated by me

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The injury was nothing noteworthy, really. Even a smidgeon of the flower’s potential was sufficient for a speedy and painless recovery, but that was besides the point. He couldn’t reveal his secret to Toriel, and discussing the matters at hand within the castle seemed too risky. The one place where they wouldn’t be looking for them would be their hideout around the garbage. After all, what kind of King would hang around junk with two weirdo bears?

“... So that’s it then. I will be King now, he’s no fucking use!” Ömen blurted, pacing around angrily around Asgore. “What kind of chance does he have if he can’t even pinch his attacker?”

“It’s not like that! I can still be King! I-I can defend myself!” Asgore paced around Ömen as well.

“Oh yeah, How? Are you gonna ask them politely to stop, and start giving out hugs?”

The only one not pacing around at that moment was Shaa, who seemed content to lay on a dirty mattress between the two restless monsters, indifferent to their bickering, but attentive nonetheless. It was his old mattress. It was in pretty bad shape, but it’d served him well for quite some time in the past. It was also the one thing in that room that didn’t stink of Ömen.

“Alright, look. If I’m King, I’ll still let you call the shots alright? You and Toriel can keep your room, and do all that other cute shit you guys do yeah? So? What do you say?”

“I can’t! They’d come after you instead of me! They’d lose trust in all of us! They’d… They’d wonder what happened for such a weird decision to take place! Rumors… They… They’ll spread rumors and they’ll all know! They-”

“What does it matter? I’ll kick all their asses!”

“You could get hurt, brother!” Asgore begged.

“NO! YOU could get hurt! I dedicated my whole life from the moment you freed us to make damn sure NOTHING would ever happen to you! Up there, down here, everywhere! I made a promise, that I intend to fucking keep!” Ömen had ceased pacing and now stood face-to-face inches away from the horned monster, as they both so affectionately traded spittle... and glares.

“I am not a child, I can take care of myself! I’m not King for no reason, I nearly killed you back at the Savannah!”

“And look at you now! You couldn’t even hurt a fly if you wanted to!”

“Why did you do it?” once more, the calm mediator stepped in to make sure things did not heat up too dramatically. Shaa stood up on his filthy, ragged mattress he called “his bed”. They both turned their heads towards him, but his gaze was elsewhere. Sometimes it was hard to tell what went on inside the polar bear’s own head, when his gaze was simply a deep homogenous blue.

“Can you stop doing that?” Ömen scoffed at his other half

“Only after you stop yelling.” Shaa bit back.

Ömen flared his noses in a disgruntled snort.

“...Ugh. Fine, whatever.” the greater half scoffed once more, arms crossed and facing away from his two siblings.

“Well then, why did you do it Asgore?”

“I… I don’t think I... “ he struggled to garner the strength to find the words appropriate to his feelings. Ironically, he found he was still capable of fighting himself. Not physically, but with his own thoughts, his own feelings. Incapable of scarring the flesh of others, he now turned to scarring his own mind. Mental scars can’t be healed by a fleur saignante.

“Well?” Shaa probed.

“I was so… Afraid. Afraid of hurting you guys again… Of hurting Toriel, or Sofia… Honoré. That night at the lions’ home, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for it. I’d lost control but… I could still see and hear. I saw what I did to you, to Toriel…” He’d now sat down in front of his thin white familiar. Arms resting at the knees and gazing down. Despite his best efforts and flowing golden mane, he did still resemble a child, even if unintentionally. In the end, he’d never truly experienced the golden years of his youth - that sacred bliss of innocence - having spent most of it on the run or in pain. Now that the cards had adjusted themselves into a neat house, that spark of naiveté flared within him, becoming a kindle.

“...that’s how I remembered your tattoos, your power, Shaa. For so long I’d wished for peace, I’d dreamed of home. I saw my true power that night with the lions, but it was pure violence... I wondered if I could only use that power to make dreams come true… So I focused on my dream of… Harmony. I pictured before me what those buttons you talked about would’ve looked like and… They just appeared… So I destroyed it, I destroyed my fight… Button.”

Both the bears simply listened unquestioning to his confession, his supplication for understanding, however, both still had difficulty in abstracting from what Asgore’d said. Perhaps it made sense that when describing the destruction of something as otherworldly and intangible as “your fight button”, the only person in the room to fully grasp it is the speaker. Ömen rose an eyebrow in incredulity, whilst Shaa merely pondered the consequential intricacies of such an act by his brother. It did not take long for him to reach his verdict.

“Perhaps, it IS best if Ömen becomes King.” He pronounced.

“Finally someone listens!” he laughed in satisfaction, slapping his stomach. “Alright, let’s go tell the others.”

“Wait! No, this can’t be the only way!” he promptly jumped back on his feet, placing himself between Ömen and the exit of their hideout. “Listen to me, I can do it, just listen!”

The grizzly had enough, his patience had been tried sufficiently. First, it was the walks, then it was the taunting, then the “button” thing. Now he still needs to listen to this? No, he’d had enough of it. He grabbed Asgore by his shoulders, and pressed his muzzle against his, a streak of seriousness finally washing over him

“No. Leave this to me. I must protect you.” he growled.

“What about our fight just ten minutes ago? What if I… Just dodged all the attackers, what if I-” he could not get his point across without being cut off by his large teddy of a brother.

“Do you think dodging will solve all your problems? DO YOU THINK I DIDN’T TRY THAT ALREADY?! IN THE ARENA?! IF I HAD STUCK TO THAT, SHAA WOULD BE DEAD AND SO WOULD YOU!!! I MUST PROTECT YOU, I MUST PROTECT YOU SHA-” his berating quickly turned into an incoherent rambling, so, the serene voice intruded again.

“That’s enough Ömen. It’s not your fault.”

The grip around Asgore was now a grapple more like, and small beads of tears had started to appear on the bear’s eyes before he finally let go and stumbled back, before sitting down on the mattress besides his brother. Shaa continued

“But the point still stands, I do not see how you would be able to defend yourself or those around you with your ability to fight removed entirely from your essence.”  

“That’s what I was trying to tell Ömen - what if I don’t need to fight to defeat my opponents? What if I became so quick and dexterous they could not even place a finger on me? You saw my fight with Ömen! He was nearly out of breath by the time he smashed his face on your forcefield!” Asgore replied.

“You can’t.” the grizzly calmly stated, submerged in his process of calming down. “You don’t have the reflexes and swiftness to achieve that kind of perfection. That’s the stuff of machines, and you’re simply a monster.”

“I’m not giving up that easily!” Asgore stomped. Fists clenched. Though now clenching fists meant very little since, well, you’ve read far enough into the story to get it.

“What if you trained him to be a machine, brother?” Shaa proposed to his greater half.

“What ?”

“He’s no machine, but you are the Royal Engineer. If there is someone with mastery and knowledge of mechanics it’s you. What if instead of crafting a machine with nuts and bolts, you crafted a machine out of soul and flesh… That is, what if you could turn Asgore in an evasion machine. You’re also an expert brawler, those two skills could complement one another and help him.” Shaa explained.

“Well… I won’t say it is impossible because… I mean Asgore achieved the “impossible” already with his button shit, so… It’s not impossible, but it won’t be fucking easy.” 

“I don’t need it to be easy.” Asgore defied him “I can do it.”

The air of the hideout grew still, the polar bear sensed that fiery glow of the boss monster’s soul in the pitch black of the surrounding ether. The grizzly could see the shimmer of the amber and azure in his brother’s eyes. Asgore might have been foolish, naive and somewhat ill-directed at times, but if there was one quality he undoubtedly possessed, it was determination.

“Then let’s go.” Ömen stood up.

PARTS : [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6]

[INDEX]

[samaraclegane]

what about Mac x Dennis and number 23

author’s note: when I first saw this I thought this was a brilliant idea! such a macdennis quote you’ve picked, anon. love love love this! hope you like :)

number 23: “If we get caught I’m blaming you.”

-okay, so maybe this is self-induced. Dennis doesn’t often like to be the one to point fingers (well, that’s mostly if he can sense the finger slowly rotating and coming back towards him) but this is definitely Dee’s fault.

-the situation, this awful predicament they’re in now, is because of her utter lack of intelligence and integrity - and, to be honest while he’s at it, she’s not that pretty, either.

-long story short, she’d planned for them to go and surprise one of her ex-boyfriends (which, in Dennis’ mind, had sounded nefarious to begin with) but she’d accidentally sneaked them into the wrong house. what a bitch.

-and so, in some dreadful, roundabout way, here he found himself, crushed into a tight closet space with only Mac for company.

-out of the gang, Dee was certainly the least graceful. Charlie was surprisingly elegant (when he wanted to be, and when he wasn’t distracted by animals or gunk of some kind that he deemed treasure). Mac was on Dee’s level.

-his new broad frame hardly helped. they were lucky Dennis had kept himself in check for the last twenty plus years, because if he were as wide as Mac, there’s no way they’d both be able to fit in here.

-he’s trying to be quiet. he’s listening for footsteps, figuring from the sounds of things that the woman - not Dee’s ex-boyfriend, obviously - was a couple of rooms across from where they were in the bedroom, showering. 

-this bought them some time, he’d figured at first, but then another voice had entered the scene, freezing them in place. a male spoke through the bathroom door to the woman, then wandered around a little before settling in the room next door, which Dennis had seen earlier was a study.

-he’s trying to call Dee or Charlie or anybody, really, but it’s hard to keep as quiet as you need to be when you’re practically brimming with rage at this fool’s mistake. she’s a disgrace to the Reynolds name.

-what’s worse, Mac just can’t stop shifting and shuffling beside him. the closet can’t be any bigger than three feet either way, but Mac’s not helping at all.

-”if we get caught, I’m blaming you,” he hisses, under his breath, risking getting caught to tell Mac this very important fact. the man’s face falls.

-”well, don’t blame me! this is all Dee’s fault,” Mac shoots back, whispering though his words are obviously full of ire at his sister, “if she hadn’t gotten the wrong house- how the hell do you get the wrong house?”

-”I don’t know!” Dennis exclaims, a little louder than he meant to, and silence hangs in the air for a solid minute as they wait to be uncovered. nobody comes, so he chances speaking again, “we’ll ask her if we get out of this alive, but for now would you please stop moving?”

-”sorry, man,” Mac sounds sincere, voice low and almost defeated as he says, “I just don’t fit in here. do you mind if I- it’d make it a lot easier-”

-before he actually asks any sort of coherent question, he shifts again, and Dennis could almost kill him. he kicks a box of shoes over, the racket making Dennis’ hair stand on end, and when it’s all over he’s pressed right up again Dennis, the sides of their faces almost touching with the newfound proximity.

-”what. the hell. are you doing?” Dennis asks him, trying simultaneously to intimidate him by looking him in the eye but also not wanting to get to close that this becomes even more awkward than it already is.

-”well, I don’t know, Dennis,” he tries to reason, “I just thought I’d fit in better this way, because my shoulders can’t fit side-by-side with yours. I can turn back if-”

-Dennis’ hands shoot up in the darkness, cramping them even further, to grasp at Mac’s shoulders. he shakes his head, though he’s not certain Mac can see it properly. “no. do not turn around again: you’ll get us caught.”

-Mac seems to accept this sound justification, but a heavy quiet strangles them after this. without actual, clear sight, Dennis is left with a greater accentuation on his other senses.

-for example, he can feel every possible inch of Mac pressed up against his body. it’s strange, feeling the man so close. it’s wrong, feels too firm and familiar. they haven’t stood this close in years, not since Mac came out.

-the man’s smell is overwhelming. knowing this isn’t the time to do so, Dennis makes a mental note to tell Mac to switch up his cologne, because this one really isn’t doing it for him. it isn’t doing it for anyone, actually; Dennis feels like he might choke to death before they get out of here.

-outside the closet, he can hear the undisturbed sound of the woman’s shower, longer than usual, and vaguely there’s the sound of a man coughing, a page turning, something. inside, though, it’s oh-so-quiet. he can’t breathe.

-every time he moves, tries to manoeuvre into a less-homoerotic position for the two of them, he ends up making it worse. he moves his shoulders, and he bumps up against Mac. he turns his head, ends up breathing into Mac’s neck. he moves his hands and- 

-oh Lord, he’s had his hands on Mac’s shoulders for a good thirty seconds or more now. is this awkward? this is awkward, right? it should be, and it is. 

-friends don’t do stuff like this. he’s not meant to be all touchy-feely with Mac, especially not now that he knows the man’s gay. there are unspoken boundaries, built by Mac’s sexuality. he has to stop this.

-he drops his hands to his sides, letting them just dangle there. he doesn’t know what else to do, forgets what hands even do, thinks there isn’t enough space for anything in here, shakes his head gently to himself, dismissing this obsession.

-his eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. he thinks they might have a chance soon, because it sounds like the man’s moving about, hopefully to put on his jacket and go out again. he can just about handle getting past the one person, he thinks, but certainly not two.

-in the closet, he can now see a number of objects. none of them out of the ordinary, mainly just clothes and other usual things to find in such a location. there’s a once-neat rack of clothes that their bodies are now crushing. average.

-and then his eyes settle on Mac, who he finds looking anxiously down at the floor he probably can’t even see. absent-mindedly, he takes a moment to study the man’s face, all strong and dark-featured. handsome.

-he’s about to mentally slap himself silly for thinking such things when Mac finally looks up, catching his eye, stealing his breath. the traitor, the perpetrator.

-neither of them says a single goddamn thing. Dennis knows this should be the worst experience of his life, and thinks that in some ways it just might be, but on another, never-seen-before hand... it’s kind of nice. relaxing, almost. gentle.

-Mac’s face scrunches a little, silently asking him what’s happening. Dennis wishes he could give a response, but he really just doesn’t know. what is this?

-it’s a perfectly fine question, and one he has even less than no answer to when Mac begins to lean into him. it’s almost imperceptible to the eye, but Dennis sees it. is he waiting for it? no, that’d be weird. he’s just observant, okay?

-still, there’s something happening. his heart is pounding in his chest, and yet he feels completely calm. the world around them stops, even though it doesn’t, as Mac’s eyes drop to his lips and he closes the gap between them.

-surely this can’t be real, Dennis thinks to himself. he tries to convince himself that he’s asleep, that this is some dream-nightmare, some delightful poison mixed up by his mind, and he’s going to awake from it all very soon. too soon.

-he doesn’t. as Mac dares to press more into him, pushing him as far back as he will go before he’s completely shoved up against the wall, crushes and loving it.

-yeah, he knows he should stop. he should force Mac back, scold him, tell him this isn’t the time, and that even if it was the time he’s not interested, but those would be lies. well, maybe not the former, but when is the perfect time for something like this? Dennis thinks it’s one of those things that you just go for.

-and Mac does just that. there, in a stranger’s house, in a stranger’s closet, he kisses Dennis like it’s all he was ever meant to do, somehow sweet and hot at the same time. desperate and demanding.

-Dennis isn’t thinking straight - how could he be? - when he wraps his arms around Mac’s shoulders, letting go of all his inhibitions. his mind is somewhere else completely when he lets himself release a moan that’s been trying to claw its way out of his throat for the longest time - years, actually - and then he stops.

-shit.

-oh, shit shit shit. this cannot be good. he’s just gone and done it, hasn’t he? he’s outed them, let the woman and man know they’re there, and sure enough, like clockwork, as soon as he moans, the water turns off and a book slams shut.

-they’re fucked. utterly, royally fucked. he searches Mac’s eyes, finding a shocked expression that he imagines is identical to his own, and they have next to no time to react before the closet door is being thrown open.

-there, a woman and man are revealed, the former in a towel with soaking wet, dark brown hair. Mac and Dennis pause, frozen still with discovery, and without thinking Dennis offers them merely a sheepish smile and wave.

-uproar. devastation. threats to call the police, lots and lots of running. after all this, the catastrophe subsides, leaving Mac and Dennis hunched over, clutching at their stomachs, laughing their asses off, like nothing at all happened.

-”I can not believe Dee,” Dennis proclaims, and though he should sound agitated at best, he finds he can’t stop smiling fondly. did his sister just accidentally set him up with his best friend?

-”I know, man; she sucks,” Mac agrees, humming, but stop suddenly and smiles broadly at Dennis, just for him, only ever for him, “but you know what?”

-Dennis can’t help but return the smile lazily, unsuspecting, “what?”

-”I blame you.”

[sazorak]

Every Game I Played in 2019, Ranked

 2019 sure was a year that happened where I happened to play some video games. Here’s the ones I played enough to form opinions, in a rough ranked order of preference.

It’s kind of weird that I’ve done this for five years now, but hey. I like to talk about things that I like / dislike. Hopefully you’ll empathize with my complaints, and give ones I enjoyed a try.

As a bonus, I also tweeted about the anime I watched and enjoyed this year.

2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018

Orm & Cheep: Narrow Squeaks – 1985 – ZX Spectrum – ★

How far would you go for a joke? For the sake of a joke, I spent an hour beating an incomprehensible, shitty ZX Spectrum Game about Orm & Cheep, an 80s British children show I only know about from a Trash Night video making fun of it.

Orm & Cheep: Birthday Party – 1985 – ZX Spectrum – ★

… and also this one, though Birthday Party is marginally better than Narrow Squeaks. Marginally. Extremely marginally. Congratulations to Orm & Cheap: Birthday Party.

16. River City Girls – 2019 – Switch – ★★★

The style of River City Girls is great. I like a lot of what it’s doing in terms of look and sound. It’s just that… well, River City Ransom’s gameplay was interesting something-like 30 years ago. Gameplay wise, this game hasn’t evolved that much from OG RC Ransom. The combat certainly feels better, but as far as it controls… I can’t tell if it’s not taking advantage of modern controllers and just sticking too close to the original’s control scheme, or if side-scrolling beat-em-ups are themselves just so staid and dated these days that there’s not much to be done. I just wasn’t having much fun, and the RC Ransom progression of new techniques and stat boosting didn’t exactly make me want to keep going.

It’s a real shame because in terms of pure aesthetics and concept, the game is amazing. I just don’t actually enjoy playing it. Oh well!

15. Baba is You – 2019 – Switch – ★★★

The core gameplay concept of Baba is You is fantastic. The way you manipulate nouns and verbs to construct phrases that operate as equations in a physical environment is super interesting. The early goings of the game were quite fun.

The problem I have with this game is that when you hit a wall in it, that wall can sometimes be impenetrable. I found that Baba is You is at times too subtle with its attempt to “teach” you tricks or onboard you into approaches to puzzles; it’s possible to come to solutions without taking away the lesson the designer intended, which can make later puzzles basically impossible.

The difficulty curve feels all over the place; I was extremely high on this game early on, but after getting completely blocked moving forward for hours on end, with the only real recourse being to either look stuff up or stare at past puzzles to try to figure out what apparently crucial lesson I missed despite coming to my own solutions, I ultimately decided to just do something else.

14. Cadence of Hyrule – 2019 – Switch – ★★★

Zelda has great music. Crypt of the Necrodancer has pretty good rhythm-game action. Combine them, and you get… well, it turns out you get a pretty OK procedurally generated Zelda-game with Necrodancer mechanics, I suppose. The appeal is easy to understand, though I’m personally not sure I care much for the final product.

I enjoyed the original Necrodancer well enough as a simple run-based, short-ish rhythm dungeon crawler. The brevity of each given “run” (stemming in part from my own inadequate skill, I suppose) worked well with the style of gameplay, in that it never really became much of a chore.

Meanwhile, I enjoy Zelda as an extended puzzle adventure game where there’s an innate unthinking flow to the actions. I’m not typically thinking much about the moment-to-moment about the actual mechanics of the action; the brain’s desires flow directly to the motion on the screen, as it were.

Combining the two results in a Necrodancer experience that’s way too long, and a Zelda experience that is way harder to control. Add the fact that the procedurally generated world isn’t that interesting and I’m just rather lukewarm on this. Meh!

13. Super Robot Wars T – 2019 – PS4 – ★★★

It’s fantastic that Super Robot Wars is finally getting proper, high-quality localizations again. It felt like a dream to finally be able to play this franchise again after being forced to stop after the DS era. Playing through the rather roughly translated, and somewhat monotonous SRW OG: Moon Dwellers was good because the OG games tended to have the highest production values and narrative quality (missing out on 2nd OG may have also helped). SRW V was my first foray into the more recent non-OG games, and so shined as something rather fresh to me.

Two years on, and two Super Robot Wars releases later, it’s plain to see that Super Robot Wars’ current annual release cadence is not great. It results in incredibly repetitive, monotonous games that rely heavily on asset reuse— both between games, and even within the same game. Part of the problem is that the derivativeness doesn’t feel additive. It’s not like SRW T is SRW V + SRW X + New Stuff; it’s more that SRW T is a reskinned SRW V, with some heavy series-asset reuse to boot. I think it’d be a bit more tolerable if it felt like these games were building on each other, but every single one feels exactly as slight and mechanically weak.

Super Robot Wars’ combat have not been particularly good from a tactical sense for a long time now. The original OG games were probably the last time the combat was particularly interesting for me, as it presented an actual challenge and difficulty curve. Nowadays, they are entirely fanservice cakewalks, even on the hardest modes. Hell, they’ve apparently decided that increasing the difficulty of the game means you don’t get to chase the special challenge goals, which actually can paradoxically make portions of the hard-mode actually easier than the normal. Bizarre!

 I guess the idea is “well, folks are playing this to see the bits, so if it’s hard they won’t!” Which… I disagree? If the gameplay is deeply unsatisfying, why wouldn’t I just watch the damn series? Crossover shenanigans don’t mean much whey you don’t do much with it. Fanservice talking heads ain’t enough!

The addition of Cowboy Bebop and the return of GaoGaiGar and Gunbuster should have had me onboard. The series list for this game is fantastic. But what they do with it is so flat that about 30 chapters in, I just… stopped. It wasn’t worth it. I’d plainly seen all that it had to offer. Easy, slow, and repetitive gameplay isn’t appealing to me, even if I do get to see Spike Spiegel doing sky donuts to take out a Zaku.

Additionally: stop putting Nadesico in these games. The units are boring, the plot is boring. Stop devoting so much time to it! It sucks!!

12. Ape Out – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

Ape Out is a game where you’re a big ol’ gorilla murdering guys with guns while dope ass percussive jazz drums play to the action. It’s cool, it’s short, it could honestly probably do with being somewhat shorter, but whatever. I enjoyed it.

BattleTech – 2018 – Steam – ★★★★

Despite being famously a “mecha guy”, BattleTech has never really been my thing. While I’m not opposed to mecha-as-tank-analog, it’s not my primary focus in the genre; I like my robots to be fast, really. I like mecha getting into melee and fucking shit up. Mecha for me is a power fantasy. That’s not really BattleTech / MechWarrior’s thing. That all being said, I quite enjoyed my time with BattleTech, the PC-game rendition of the tabletop thing. It’s a neat turn-based tactical robot combat RPG with an interesting overarching campaign structure… to a point.

The first issue I had is pacing. While the game is turn-based, the combat and movement plays out in real-time. And given how lumbering these robots are, this means that a single mission can take aaaages. Think 45 minutes to an hour for a single mission. It took me about 20-30 hours to get to the campaign’s halfway point, which is when the game really started to sour on me.

The second issue is one of variance. Let me run you through the fundamental loop of the game. You are a mercenary captain that has a ship of mechs and mech pilots, and you fly around from planet to planet taking on jobs. You need money to pay for your ship to keep going, as well as to pay your pilots. It’s expensive to outfit your mechs, and severe damage to them can both REALLY eat into your budget and also take weeks in-game to repair. Missions are rated based on difficulty, and you are expected generally to field a greater “tonnage” of mechs in excess to that difficulty. This all plays out pretty well.

The game starts with you possessing mostly lighter mechs, and as you progress, you’re presented more and more missions in the campaign that require increasingly beefier mechs with more armor and more guns. Whereas in the tabletop game there’s presumably a kind of “point” system by which players are given a limited amount of tonnage that they can field on any given mission (for purposes of balance), there’s no such limit in the game; as such, you’re encouraged to field the four-ish beefiest robots you have, as they’re the most likely to kill everything fast while coming out with the least damage.

How do you get these beefy mechs? Well, you don’t buy them; instead, you’re aiming to kill opposing pilots and leave their robots as much intact as possible so that you can salvage or steal them. It’s kind of amusing; your entire gameplan after a point becomes “how the fuck do I shake this robot around a bunch such that its pilot dies???” It makes sense in practice, but if you think about it for even a second it comes across rather silly. Given you need good mechs to progress, you don’t have much other choice other than just running tonnnsss of missions and hoping you eventually get enough mech fragments to reconstruct some of your own. But beefy-ness isn’t the whole story, as some of the robots you can get just plain suck, regardless of their tonnage. You’re basically rolling dice again and again hoping a robot worthy of stealing shows up so you can kill its friends, and try to kill its pilot as gently as possible. You go through this cycle four times, across the four different weight-classes, until you’ve got what you need in terms of a team of class-appropriate mechs.

The fundamental lack of variety in what you field combines with every single mission really being “how do I kneecap everyone” instead of the given mission objective to make the game quite samey. Mission types don’t vary much, and the environments don’t constrain you all that much, either; the only ones that are particularly interesting are moons and Mars-like planets where your mechs’ ability to regulate their heat become much more constrained, which can necessitate loadout changes.  

I enjoyed the story enough for what it was, but honestly? After 30 hours, I was pretty much good. I had a good time with BattleTech, but I’d had my fill.

Mortal Kombat X – 2015 – Steam – ★★★★

In my ongoing adventure of playing the Mortal Kombat games for their goofy plot / story modes and nothing else, I played Mortal Kombat X. I’m not sure there’s much to talk about these other than “Hey I enjoy their dumb ongoing narrative; I wonder where they’ll go from here!”

11. Mortal Kombat XI – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★

Ditto. The plot for these games are getting sillier and sillier, and the ending of XI may be the most ridiculous yet. In a good way.

10. Devil May Cry V – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★

Character action games are heavily predicated on the question of “How do we spice the game up over time so that it stays interesting… without overwhelming the player?” Devil May Cry V’s answer is “well, we’ll slowly give them more characters with their own expanding skill sets, that’ll be neat!”

It is neat, but I’m not sure it was actually a good idea. The three protagonists all have extremely different move sets, meaning that the forced switches between them on a chapter-to-chapter basis results in you never really mastering any one of them. Each character has a ton of depth, but… take, for example, Nero, the “main” protagonist. He has a sub-mechanic involved with revving his motorcycle sword to boost damage. I never actually figured out how to get to work. Never really had to, because he had so many other mechanics that were also effective, and I never had much time with him alone to dial in the weird motorcycle thing.

DMCV also does probably my least favorite gameplay gimmick of “introduce new mechanics in a boss battle!” Like great, you gave me a whole new move set here, and are now going to rate me on my performance when you’ve never given me a chance to learn these skills? Oh wait, you’re giving me new mechanics in the final boss battle!?! Fuck off. That sucks!

Also, I think I’m an outlier, but I actually preferred playing as V, the control-three-characters-at-once-while-reading-a-book guy. Just felt like I dialed his move set in easier. Weird.

9. Untitled Goose Game – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

I’m not going to pretend that this is a deep game, or an enduring game, or even necessarily a great game. But I had a lot of fun with it, I have a lot of good memories thinking about it, and I am glad that so many people out there are now wrestling with the fact that birds can be both terrible and also good. Untitled Goose Game carries a powerful message about avian kind. You would do well to learn from it.

8. Super Mario Maker 2 – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

Mario Maker 2 is such an incremental upgrade to Mario Maker that it hardly feels like it earns that “2”. That being said: Mario Maker 1 is pretty darn good so it’s not like that’s all that bad. The additional mechanics and story mode are good, granted, but like… I had been wanting more than just Mario Maker 1.5.

As is, it was pretty easy to get bored with Mario Maker pretty quickly, given it was mostly a game I’d already played quite a bit before. The addition of the campaign held my interest for a fair amount of time, but I’m not exactly coming back to this all that often. Hopefully the content updates they seem to be rolling into it keep up.

7. Kind Worlds: Lo-Fi Beats to Write To – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★

This is less a video game and more a sort of vague pen-pal application masquerading as a game, but man… the existence of this thing is neat. It’s just a program where folks write letters about their problems, and people send them stuff back. That’s it.  It’s kind of a sweet thing to just exist.

I’m not a person with what would one term especially Heavy Problems, but just going through other folks letters and giving them an encouraging word is itself nice.

6. The Outer Worlds – 2019 – Epic Game Store – ★★★★

Having been deeply disappointed with the quality of Fallout 4, I was very happy to see Obsidian come back to do their own Fallout-a-like. The Outer Worlds isn’t perfect; I wish it had a bit more of a bite, the gunplay was… fine, the environment design was kind of dull, and the gameplay loop did not outlast the length of the game itself. But I had a fun enough time with it.

That said, I think the dearth of me having much to say here sort of speaks to how… rather unambitious the writing and design ended up being. There’s not a ton to say about it. It’s more responsive than a Fallout 4, to be sure, but even that caps out at a point. It doesn’t necessarily offer much in the way of RPG-style different “paths” to develop your character in terms of who they are or how they behave, beyond the sort-of four-way axis of “grouch to nice” and “corporatist to socialist.” The skill tree ends up being pretty flat, and you can basically become a master of everything by the end.

Shruggo.

5. Pokémon Sword – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

Pokémon Sword/Shield is a bizarre thing— its design is constantly fighting against itself. There are tons of ease-of-use improvements– but it somehow has some of the worst online in the series. It gives you dozens of complex, half-explained systems— but also feels the need to hold your hand lest you get lost in its incredibly linear, dull story. It adds challenging Pokémon raid battles that you largely need to team up with other players to beat— but also has one of the most trivial progressions in the series. It has a huge and varied open “Wild Area” where you can catch hundreds of Pokémon before ever facing the first gym— but that wild area largely exists as a world unto its own separate from the traditional Pokémon “routes”. It doesn’t want to have a plot up until the very end when it decides that gee, I guess we have to, even if it makes no sense.

Let’s go into these in more detail.

Sword/Shield introduces a ton of gameplay improvements. Auto-saving, while problematic in places, is super useful. The ability to move Pokémon directly from the box to your party is great, and removes a lot of process headaches. Single hand controls are a godsend for both improved accessibility and general ease of use. Items are way easier to get, Pokemon are easier to raise, and this is probably the easiest game in the entire series to breed and raise “high tier” Pokemon for online battling.

On the other hand: despite your friend list being loaded into the game, you are forced to use a bizarre password system and request system that is super confusing and prone to issues. You cannot directly trade or battle or play with friends except through this, which occasionally results in headaches anytime someone uses the same four-digit password as you and your bud. The Max Raid battle system is super poorly explained in-game in terms of how you find and join others raids— I only divined it by a tweet someone made. They did away with the “GTS” trading system they had used for the past decade that allowed global Pokemon bartering, presumably in favor of encouraging more natural trades— but didn’t give any way to actually communicate with people in game what you want to trade for. It encourages more in-person interaction, but that’s once again playing into Game Freak’s obsession with the Japanese mode of gaming.

Sword/Shield perhaps has the most sheer amount of systems in any one of these games. It’s not necessarily all good, but in terms of “wow, you’re not babying us huh” it is at least interesting. There’s Pokemon that evolve based on absurd, never-explained conditions like “number of crits in a single battle”, “pass underneath this specific rock when they’re at low health”, “spin baby spin.” The wild area has tons of mechanical stuff that they let you explore without forcing your hand much, and they let you explore it freely without really railroading you. There’s a separate wild-area specific currency system based on raids / dens that you just stumble upon unprompted, really.

On the other hand, the core story progression of the game though… is perhaps the most infuriatingly patronizing thing I’ve experienced. Cutscenes happen every 15 seconds, often-times forcing your movement, and are almost of zero consequence beyond someone going HEY YOU SHOULD GO THAT WAY. The game is completely unwilling to let you get lost when going through the story. It’s constant, it’s unrelenting, it’s maddening. It literally made me mad.

Pokémon Raid battles are super interesting. The battles themselves aren’t necessarily hard, but the kinds of things they present— in terms of providing access to unique Pokémon, rare items, and the fact that they’re not as “rinse-and-repeat” as normal battles— gives the system and game increased longevity. It’s a pretty deep system, with meaningful rewards. A five-star battle is time consuming and you run the risk of failing, but if you pull it off you can get items like TRs, EXP candies, even bottle caps (super useful items that let you increase the baseline stat “DNA” of your Pokémon), and the captured Pokémon can have unique moves you’d normally have to breed and possess extremely high baseline stats. You can even get hidden secret abilities! Nice!

On the other hand: the core game progression is so piss easy and straight forward. The game’s leveling curve is all out of whack, in part because their introduction of a forced “always on” EXP share. In older games, you’d only get EXP from actively battling and beating a Pokemon in a fight, or having participated in a fight. Now, your whole team gets EXP just from being around, and you also get EXP from catching Pokemon, making curry, and all sorts of other small activities. All of this is fine or even good in the abstract as it makes raising stuff easier, but the game isn’t well balanced around it. Encounters don’t scale, which can result in you steamrolling the game if you engage with any of the game’s other systems prior to beating the game. I had to compensate by stretching my normal party of six into a party of 10, constantly swapping members out to keep the average level across the party down. Additionally, the only non-PVP reason to train and breed pokes, the Battle Tower, is so trivially easy this time that… why bother??

The wild area system is brilliant. A big criticism I’ve had with this series in the past is that the kinds of Pokemon any given player is bound to encounter and capture tend to be pretty similar. The limited amount of Pokemon that tend to be put on a traditional Pokemon route, and the limited means you have to encounter them (“hey I walk through the grass, we’ll see what pops up”) doesn’t trend towards players ending up with very different party compositions, just because there’s not a ton of options at any given point. The wild area completely tosses that out the window. As an open space, the types of things someone encounters will vary wildly— and it’s further varied by player-specific weather conditions that dynamically change the encounter tables. It completely opens up the kinds of Pokemon one can encounter early on, presenting hundreds of appropriately leveled options for players. It’s brilliant. The intermixing of both grass-only, overworld-visible, and raid-specific Pokemon also increases the range of encounters. It’s the accomplishment of the core Pokemon concept of “explore and find everything.” Finally.

On the other hand: the wild area is actually kind of boring to explore, visually speaking. It’s basically the Ocarina of Time field with sporadic patches of grass. There’s little actually diversity or mechanics to its exploration, especially when compared to the fact that… the game still has normal routes. They still behave as they always have, except that by the total remove of “Hidden Machine” mobility moves, the ability to explore geographically has been severely hampered. There’s no “gee, I can’t get there yet, guess I’ll have to come back later” except for a single mobility mechanic (the ability to go over the water, introduced very late in the game). It makes revisiting past areas mostly a box-checking exercise, and in general feels like an odd juxtaposition. They either should went all-in on the wild area or better merged the concepts together, because as is it feels… weird. Especially because the wild area could have done with being bigger and more diverse looking.

The game spends most of its time having no story at all, which is kind of boring. Juxtaposed with the railroading stuff where there’s still constant cutscenes with their mostly mediocre characters who don’t do all that much, it almost comes across as padding than anything. There are good characters (Piers and Marnie are the best, the gym leaders in general are good) but man do they try too hard to put Leon over.

But then at the end they introduce the story super quickly and it’s very dumb in a way that made me laugh out loud so congrats I guess.

All in all, I rather liked Sword/Shield. It’s no Sun/Moon— which innovated in tons of places and had an extremely charming story, cast, and progression— but the places that it innovates, and the ease-of-use improvements that they’ve put in the game, are great improvements to the baseline formula. While it’s caused a ton of drama online, the Pokédex and Pokémon Bank stuff are not huge impacts on my personal enjoyment of the game. It kind of stinks a bit, but the overall package is still quite good and fun. 

 The Legend of the Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Master Mode – 2017 – Switch – ★★★★★

Breath of the Wild was my favorite game the year it was released. The harder Master Mode is something that had interested me as something to check out for a replay, but I decided to wait until the shadow of my previous playthrough loomed somewhat less. Breath of the Wild is, after all, both a monumental game and also a monumentally large game. Going back to it for Master Mode would mean (by way of my own obsessive brain) 100%ing it all over again, which is extremely time consuming, even if I don’t go after the all the Koroks.

There was also this sort of reticence in my behind to confront the creeping suspicion I’ve had in my mind that some of the DLC additions have made the core game worse. Which, I would say… is probably somewhat the case. Certain DLC gear items extremely imbalance standard play and really fuck with the exploration of the game (specifically, Majora’s Mask basically making you not have to fight multiple enemy types). Still, I knew I could ignore those, and just focus down on the core experience of Master Mode: harder enemies, regenerating enemy health, and the introduction of floating platforms.

Turns out, BOTW is still fucking amazing, and while the additions Master Mode make aren’t essential, they do make for a fun second run of a fantastic game. The harder enemies make the early parts of that game WAY HARDER (making you really have to get good at using your bombs and stealth), and while that difficulty ramp doesn’t keep up throughout (which, honestly, the platforms are somewhat to blame as they make getting certain bits of higher-level loot earlier easier), it’s still just a great game to go back to.

Breath of the Wild remains my all-time favorite game. Hyped for BOTW2.

4. Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★★

Sekiro is in a sense the purest expression of the Souls formula. Stripped away of the jolly co-op, the PVP, the stats, the equipment, and most customization to speak of, Sekiro asks the simple question: can you do this? Can you learn all the systems in this quite challenging game, and engage with it on its own terms?

In its mechanical simplicity, I found Sekiro to be my favorite game of that lineage, as it has allowed them to really polish the gameplay by its singular focus. It just feels amazing to stealth around and backstab dudes, parry everything, and triumph in nail-biting sword duels. While you do gain new skills and equipment (in the form of the ninja tools), they are just supplementing the fundamental systems of the game, rather than acting as diverging ones. So really, most of your time is spent not learning wholly new methods of combat, but instead improving your mastery of the core one.

And the feel of mastering that combat is incredible. By the end you feel unstoppable; normal enemies that would have been challenges early on are nothing. Even a lot of the bosses become trivial as-time goes on, bar the few ‘mastery test’ bosses interleaved throughout the progression. This isn’t some “hey I got more EXP and now over-level for everything!” thing, either; this is me, the human holding the controller getting skilled enough to become a Sekiro master. It’s an amazing feeling.

I beat every single boss in the game, including the hidden ones, and enjoyed the hell out of it.

3. Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★★

I’m very much on the record as being a huge IGAvania partisan. I fuckin’ love the core loop of that permutation of the Metroidvania formula. Koji Igarashi no longer being able to make Castlevanias hurt me. A lot. Over a decade of time spanned between the last IGAvania game, Order of Ecclesia, and the release of Bloodstained. I was a bit worried.

Thank god Bloodstained is really, really, really good.

Bloodstained is extremely “one of those.” You move about a 2D interconnected world, collect items and abilities until you find the stuff that let you move forward in a new area. It’s kind of an eclectic hybrid of IGA’s past titles. The castle design feels very Aria of Sorrow. The shard mechanics feel close to Aria/Dawn of Sorrow’s soul system. The weapons feel very Symphony of the Night meets Portrait of Ruin. The overall mechanics of movement feel most akin to Order of Ecclesia. All in all: a good mix.

The game is massive. There’s so many weird one-off mechanics (something I appreciate), bizarre callbacks, goofs. There’s an in-depth alchemy system (mostly used for cooking, which is funny). The shard system is a bit boring in places— some shards are extremely simple and forgettable mechanically— but the shard leveling system is kind of hilarious in how broken it can become. The familiar system from SOTN is back and has been essentially perfected by making it a dedicated slot so you can just hang with a fairy or sword pal.

I wish the game had more enemy diversity, and the story left something to be desired. Many shards just aren’t very interesting. But the game is just so dang fun. The core gameplay loop is just so compelling, and the game just feels so dang good. I’m glad they took all the time to polish the gameplay feel because hooooooooooo boy.

Looking forward to those DLC characters for some additional playthroughs.

2. Outer Wilds – 2019 – Epic Game Store – ★★★★★

“Space exploration”, “cosmology”, “archeology”, and “sociology.” While these are certainly not the only fields that dominate much of my attention, they are some big ones. The Outer Wilds is a space exploration game where you explore the structure of a strange but exquisitely constructed solar system, and dig through the remains of a mysterious vanished alien species. Also, you’re stuck in a Majora’s Mask-like apocalyptic time loop ‘cuz the sun keeps exploding. Should probably find out why that’s happening.

I went into this game completely blind, entirely based on the way Austin Walker was raving about it on twitter. Austin’s interests in heady space shit is pretty similar to my own, and turns out? Worked out quite well for me. I blindly explored this solar system for about twenty hours over the course of a couple weeks, and came away from the experience misty eyed at the ending. Outer Wilds is fantastic.

It’s a surprisingly touching and cozy for a game that mostly about you going off into space on your own, all alone. And that’s because you’re not, really. Outer Wilds is less about the science of exploration and archeology and the meaning of it, why it matters even in the darkest moments. Why do we explore? Why does science matter, divorced from the parasite of industry and markets? What value does it give to us, to future generations?

The game is built on the notion that even as we individually wander, explore, and discover, we’re all together collectively building on something that may outlive us, even outlive our species, the pursuit of a collective knowledge that transcends personal enrichment and individual accomplishments.

You are but one a few alien explorers, each on their own adventure. As you adventure, you catch their signals as you cruise across space. The things you learn and do are further built on the relics and messages left behind by the Nomai, the species that came before. This sense of a personal and emotional connection in the act of discovery is the heart of this game. We’re not standing on the shoulders of giants; we’re holding hands with those before us and those after us to build a bridge to a future that we may not live to see.

It’s a positive message of hope in the face of oblivion. 

1. Fire Emblem: Three Houses – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★★

I’ve been really on-and-off on Fire Emblem over the years. I first got in on the franchise with Awakening, which I rather liked for its anime-ass sensibilities— though not without criticism. I found the combat kind of obnoxious in its tendency to get muddied down in the Oops You Done Fucked Up, Time To Reset junk. It was too anime-ass in some places, not the least of which being its incredibly one-note characters who had little bearing on ongoing events so as to support the permadeath system without too much wasted effort on the developers’ part. Fates, the follow-up on Awakening, only amped up these criticisms, becoming convoluted, stupid, and kind of obnoxious to play.

I had hopes that Three Houses would be an improvement. Initial impressions made it seem way more serious, way more grounded, with a lot of improved systems. Turns out: it was better than I could have dared of expected or hoped. Three Houses isn’t improvement, or even innovation; it’s a revolution.

Three Houses is great. It’s long, it’s got so many different systems going on that I hardly know where to begin with describing it, but… it’s great. It’s the platonic ideal of what I’d like out of a Fire Emblem. Things feel like they matter. The setting feels weighty, the plot is actually good, and the characters are absolutely marvelous.  

No, it’s not perfect— its handling of representation could DEFINITELY be better. Some of the narrative is hokey as hell in places. Certain routes seem to have gotten more attention than others. The class-based specialization systems could do with more depth such that so many characters don’t end up mostly identically specialized to each other.

But… I found the combat extremely enjoyable.  The charge-based rewind mechanic removed the feel-bad gotchas of unanticipated troop appearances and bad rolls etc. The characters are fun, and they’re kept relevant all the whole way through via creative framing of events. The ability to roam an actual physical space via the monastery made the world feel more alive, and made everything feel more real.

The writing was actually interesting and nuanced, exploring things like faith, race, social classes, feudal politics, and romance. While the three routes are largely similar, it’s interesting just how different the underlying messages of each of them ends up being. I appreciate that in this game where you otherwise spend most of your time hanging around with nobles in a church ends just short of you rolling out the guillotines by the end.

This is a tactical RPG in 2019 that I have put something like 150+ hours into, having beaten only two of the four routes. I was, and still am, deeply invested in everything that is. I’ll probably go back to the other two routes when the final DLC is out next year.

SAKURAI, PUT EDELGARD IN SMASH

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 4.2

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time, as we began chapter 4, Gonta has become even more desperate to be useful to everyone, Monokuma gave out another motive that makes no sense as a motive from his point of view, Keebo became partially responsible for every future death through inaction, the true nature of this situation was hiding in plain sight in Shuichi’s lab, and Kaito vowed to protect his sidekicks despite having no way to guarantee it (because he’s also become even more desperate to be useful to them).

Kaito also found a Flashback Light, so we’re about to do that. Everyone’s gathered in the dining hall except Kokichi.

Himiko:  “I guess… he must be a real pro at hide-and-seek. I magically looked all over the school, but he was nowhere to be found.”

And you’d think Himiko would be good at finding hiding places, because her, uh, magic, often involves secret passageways and hidden compartments. So I guess Kokichi really is just that good at hide and seek.

Tsumugi:  “But I’m still uneasy about these Flashback Lights… Are they really okay to use?”

I don’t know, Tsumugi, you tell us.

Anyway, Kokichi shows up.

Kokichi:  “Unfortunately, I couldn’t use the card key.”

Shuichi:  “You couldn’t use it?”

Kokichi:  “Yeah, I had no idea where to use it, so I just gave up instead.”

This is of course a lie, and Kokichi did in fact find where to use the card key and view the outside world. So now’s the time to talk about this.

It could be argued that at this point, Kokichi falls into despair upon seeing the outside world and genuinely wants the mercy kill outcome that he gets Gonta to try and achieve. But that cannot be the truth, because he deliberately outs Gonta in the middle of the trial while everyone is still pretty sure Kokichi did it, and later outright shows everyone else the outside world, even though the whole point of the mercy kill would have been to prevent them ever seeing that. That interpretation just does not make sense, and I’ll be giving more detailed and precise reasons why as we get into the case.

But even if we ignore the events of this particular chapter’s case and the theoretical attempted mercy kill, him falling into despair here still doesn’t fit. See, Kokichi has made it very clear by now that he’s aware this killing game is being put on as a show for people’s entertainment. His entire plan in chapter 5 hinges on the fact that there must be an audience; if he’d started believing here in chapter 4 that everyone was dead, that plan wouldn’t make any sense. And he’s clearly already working on that plan during this chapter, based on his hints at being the mastermind and the fact that he gets Miu to build him some things that he’ll need for it, most notably Electrobombs.

So, since Kokichi is basically certain about his audience theory by this point, when he sees that the outside world is supposedly completely barren and uninhabitable – therefore there’s no people who are watching this? – he has to conclude that it must be a lie.

Upon seeing a supposed apocalyptic world outside that’s really just a big lie to make an exciting story for people’s entertainment, he might even have started to wonder what else is a lie – everything from the Flashback Lights? Maybe even their very talents?

This isn’t the moment Kokichi falls into despair. This is the moment he figures out that everything is fiction.

Kokichi was already angry at the gamemakers for forcing him into this game he hated just for the sake of other people’s entertainment, and he was already vaguely intending to claim to be the mastermind as part of getting some kind of revenge on them. All this would do is make him even more furious at them for fucking around with him on an even deeper level. It’s very like Kokichi to throw a tantrum when somebody else uses lies against him, like he will in this chapter’s trial. So he’s now more determined than ever to get some kind of petty revenge and beat the gamemakers at their own lying, manipulating game.

Kokichi:  “Oh, hey, the Flashback Light. Lemme see that. Kaito doesn’t have the balls to turn on the switch—”

Kaito:  “Of course I do!!!”

Good job making it look like you’re manipulating Kaito to do whatever you want him to when he was literally about to turn it on anyway, Kokichi.

Maki:  “Similar meteorite impacts happened millions of years ago… All living organisms on Earth were annihilated…”

Yeah, no, that’s not what happened. A mass-extinction, sure, but not literally everything. Even if it was a fictional, more intense meteorite impact than the one that wiped out the dinosaurs, I still don’t believe it’d wipe out everything – some organisms are really stubborn little fuckers. And if it did wipe out absolutely everything, then the chances of life arising again, on the same planet, are astronomically small. The person writing this story apparently doesn’t really know their science and is just going for spectacle.

Kaito:  “Then what happened to that plan? The one to save the world from the meteorites?”

Tsumugi:  “Oh right… I just remembered that…”

Sure, you definitely just remembered it and didn’t know about it this whole time because you came up with it.

Miu:  “Sh-Shut up! I’m tired of this! Let us outta here! Let us out!”

Meanwhile Miu has apparently snapped. Based on her reaction here, this might well be the moment she starts seriously plotting murder. I actually find it pretty neat that, for once, we have a character who decides to commit a murder not because of any chapter-specific motive but just because the overall stress of being stuck in here with the constant threat of being murdered has driven them over the edge. Chapter-specific motives shouldn’t have to be necessary. Admittedly, in a game like this one where there’s a much greater sense of co-operation than in most, it figures Monokuma would think they are necessary, so it also figures that it’d be one of the only two paranoid and non-co-operative people who’d snap in this way.

(Kokichi already snapped basically as soon as the game began, but he didn’t consider becoming blackened because he knew that’d just be playing the game and losing.)

Gonta:  “Miu, calm down! It’s okay! Gonta will protect you!”

AAAGFHDSGHDSGH

Kokichi:  “We probably need one more… Everything will start to connect after we remember one more thing…”

Meaning that, based on what he saw of the outside world, Kokichi’s already put all the pieces together and figured out most of the “story”.

Kokichi:  “That’s why, if the meteorites really did fall on us, anything could’ve happened. A mysterious virus could’ve spread, or some weird technology… Or even an unknown substance brought to Earth that could’ve bent time and space—”

And, see, this doesn’t come across as a Kokichi who’s secretly in despair because he believes the outside world is in ruins. If that were the case, he’d just be saying something like “hey, maybe the meteorites really did wipe out humanity, who knows?”, because he likes to drop hints about truths he’s figured out like that. Instead of that, he’s listing all these fantastical possibilities which have no definite correlation with what he saw out there – because he’s figured out this is all fiction, and therefore he knows that any of these things really could be where the writers want the story to go from here.

Kaito:  “Tch, that’s just stupid! It’s like the setting for some third-rate anime or game!”

And Kaito is unintentionally helping out with the implication that this is what Kokichi’s really thinking about.

Kokichi:  “Do you think I’m making this up? But then, how would you explain Flashback Lights, Exisals, and even Monokuma? We may be used to it *now*, but that kind of stuff goes against common sense, y’know? Which means… it wouldn’t be too farfetched if any of the things I mentioned actually happened.”

Kokichi’s laying this on thick. He’s never really talked about this kind of thing to this extent before. This is making me much more convinced that I’m right in my assumption that he just recently figured out this whole thing is fiction. The reason I came up with that idea in the first place is that it’s the only thing that makes any sense, not because I knew of anything in particular hinting at it being the case – but his behaviour here, the first time we see him after he’d have figured it out, definitely seems to be a deliberate hint towards it.

Gonta:  “Oh, before we go, Gonta put manhole cover back how it was. If we wanna challenge underground again, this time Gonta definitely—”

Kokichi:  “Ah-haha, no-one’s dumb enough to challenge that dump again!”

So I wonder – did­ Kokichi see the outside world from the door at the end of that tunnel? Because that might explain why he would want to discourage people from trying the tunnel again now, if he knows what’s at the end of it and wants to keep everyone from falling into despair until he’s ready to have that happen as part of his plan.

Shuichi:  (We can’t keep going like this… We need to find a way out. I need to solve all of these mysteries.)

Not just you, Shuichi! Yes, you’re the detective, but almost everyone’s started relying on you so much that they’ve forgotten there’s things they could do to help, too, leading to you forgetting that you’re not alone in this.

And now it’s Free Time.

Kaito:  “Meteorites all over the world… No! There’s no point thinking about it right now! I’m better off thinking of something else!”

Kaito may be freaking out a little about the possible end of the world.  But, being Kaito, he’s refusing to let himself dwell on that and trying to stay positive! By… ignoring the problem, but, I mean, what else can you do in this situation.

(He’s in Keebo’s lab for some reason. I guess he’s interested in all the sci-fi technology in here. Shame it never occurs to him to try and encourage Keebo to actually use this stuff.)

Tsumugi:  “A biohazard from a mysterious virus spreading… Infecting people with an unknown disease…”

Excuse me, Tsumugi? I know this is just a reference to some videogame or other, but man, that sure is appropriately timed with the recent revelation about the meteorites, now, isn’t it. She’s deliberately foreshadowing while passing it off as one of her usual arbitrary references.

Gonta:  “What can Gonta do… to be useful for everyone? Gonta think he could protect everyone… in underground passage! Gonta… no can take it anymore! Gonta not wanna lose anyone else!”

Oh Gonta; he just wants to be useful and stop anyone else from dying. He’s not even thinking at all about the meteorites next to this much more immediate issue.

Himiko is in Tenko’s lab! Aww. (While apparently being unfazed by the hidden Monokuma that happens to be dancing right by her feet.)

And she’s actually who I’m about to have Shuichi hang out with. He needs to have one more new hangout partner this chapter, and of the remaining people he’s not already been hanging out with who are generally pleasant people (on the surface), Himiko seems like the one Shuichi would have the most active reason to go for. After the hell she went through last chapter, and especially since he helped encourage her through it during the trial, it seems plausible that he might want to continue reaching out to her and trying to be her friend. Plus, she’s the other final survivor, so it seems appropriate. Also, there… may be one other reason I’m picking her, but we’ll get to that next chapter.

Himiko:  “Nyeeeh…”

Shuichi:  “Himiko?”

Himiko:  “Nyeeeh…”

…Unfortunately, doing Himiko’s early FTEs at this particular time is not quite in line with canon, since they’re written for depressed-Himiko and not positive-Himiko. I imagine most first-time players who choose to hang out with Himiko during their main playthrough also get this awkward whiplash, because probably most of them don’t do so before this point. I know I said I’d keep the FTEs in line with canon as much as possible, but it can’t really be helped in this case. Still, the actual topics she talks about are something she’d have talked about regardless of when it happens; the only awkward part is her attitude about doing so.

Himiko:  “It’s real magic, okay? You get it, right?”

Shuichi:  “Real magic, sure.” (I feel like this conversation will go nowhere if I disagree…)

Himiko:  “No, it’s magic. How many times do I have to tell y—”

Pfft, she’s so used to having to correct everyone that she’s genuinely caught off-guard when someone plays along. Having Tenko be all in on her magic thing must have been very refreshing for her, even if she was under too much of a depression haze to really feel happy about it.

Shuichi:  (Isn’t it strange that such a lazy girl would go through so much work for a magic trick?)

Shuichi’s questioning this, but Himiko has occasionally mentioned her reasons for being a magi – uh, mage – before. She wants to make people smile, just like Kaede did!

Himiko:  “A typical amateur question. You don’t need annoying preparations for magic.”

You really do, though. She must put a lot more work into her magic than you’d think to look at her. (And even if it was real magic, presumably you’d need lots of practice to get good at spellcasting, right?)

Shuichi:  “You have a master, Himiko?”

Himiko:  “Nyeh…? Did I not tell you?”

Shuichi:  “This is the first time I’m hearing it. So there are apprentice magicians?”

Himiko:  “Hm, that’s right. My master was an amazing archmage…”

Himiko’s master is going to be the topic of the rest of her FTEs, but the fact that he exists is basically the only thing we learn from this first one. It abruptly ends right after this because Himiko gets mad at Shuichi calling her a magician again.

Nighttime! Which means…

Shuichi:  “It’s time for training!” (I feel like I haven’t done it in a long time… Alright, to the courtyard!)

Training! Shuichi’s so into it now! Kaito would be proud.

On the way out, he runs into Gonta.

Gonta:  “But Gonta think it best not to go out at nighttime.”

Look at him worrying about everyone’s safety. Don’t worry, Gonta – Shuichi, Kaito and Maki would protect each other if anything happened!

Shuichi:  “But the promise I made to Kaito is really important to me. I can’t break it.”

It’s adorable how much this means to him and how determined he is to keep it up already. Shuichi and Maki (and Himiko) will absolutely continue their training every day when they escape from here too.

Gonta:  “Gonta not know you make such important promise to Kaito. Gonta… so useless.”

Aww, Gonta. He’s had nobody that he’s grown close enough to (FTEs aside) in a genuine enough way that he could have made that kind of promise with. Not only is he feeling useless, but even though he considers everyone here a friend, he must still be feeling kind of alone in his uselessness.

Shuichi:  “Not at all, Gonta. Don’t worry about it. We all know how much you care about us.”

We do! Knowing that already helps in terms of emotional support, Gonta! You don’t need to go risking your life to be useful when you’re already important just by being you!

Gonta:  “Shuichi, Gonta come to decision!”

…But that’s exactly what he’s just decided to do.

Gonta:  “Gonta will sleep good tonight and prepare for tomorrow! Good night!”

And he’s suddenly so much happier now he’s figured out a way he can be useful, even though it’s this.

Kaito:  “Ah, good. You’re here, bro!”

Shuichi:  “Yeah… it’s been so long since the three of us have done this.”

The three of them have only done this together once, in fact – and yet they still feel so much like a trio by this point that Shuichi’s talking about it in a way that makes it seem like they’ve done so more often than that already. I love these three so much.

Maki:  “…It’s because Kaito was scared of ghosts.”

Which is to say, it was Tsumugi’s fault. She cheated us out of more adorable training trio scenes. Boo.

Kaito:  “First off, 100 sit-ups! You guys better get pumped up!”

Yeah, they better, because Kaito’s… not going to.

Shuichi:  “One… Two… Three!”

Maki:  “25, 26, 27, 28…”

…

Kaito:  “When you really think about it, the universe is impossibly vast.”

Oh, Kaito. I’m pretty sure the reason he suggested sit-ups rather than push-ups this time is that he knew he was in too much pain to do much training, and so he at least wanted to be able to look up at the stars while he’s “slacking off”. It’s also a clever misdirection that he can make it look like he’s simply being distracted by space rather than that he has a more worrying reason to not be doing any.

Shuichi:  (Kaito stood up slowly, his body hesitant.)

There go Shuichi’s observational skills picking up on evidence that indicates Kaito is in pain… and then not following up and coming to a conclusion from that evidence, because – well, probably because there’s still some truths he doesn’t want to pursue, especially when he’s not in class-trial, if-I-don’t-face-the-truth-we-all-die mode.

Kaito:  “Sorry… gotta use the bathroom.”

Translation: just gonna go cough up some blood, guys, brb.

(Also, look at him apologising. Simply needing to use the bathroom should not ever count as “doing something wrong” even in his warped logic, so he’s not really apologising for that, is he.)

Shuichi:  (Kaito slowly began walking away toward the school building.) “…I wonder what’s wrong. He’s not in much of a hurry for needing to go to the bathroom.”

Again, making relevant observations that he won’t be consciously drawing any conclusions from because that’s too worrying a truth.

Maki:  “Do you want me to go check on him? I just finished doing my 100 sit-ups.”

Shuichi:  “What? Already? But, ah, maybe you shouldn’t go… Because it’s… the boys bathroom…”

Maki:  “…”

Shuichi:  “…Did that not occur to you?”

Yeah, things like gendered bathroom taboos kind of get lost by the wayside when you’re forced through hellish training to become a child-slave assassin.

Also, man, the problems in this game that could be solved if the school just had unisex bathrooms. Shuichi would have found the secret passageway, Maki would have discovered that Kaito is dying…

Maki:  “By the way… this seems like a good time to ask, but… Did you… like Kaede?”

So, of course, Maki’s asking this because she’s starting to wonder if she “likes” Kaito in that same sense and is trying to figure that out.

Maki:  “Well… I assumed you didn’t, because that would be weird.”

Shuichi:  “What do you mean, ‘weird’?”

Maki:  “Liking someone you just met… especially in a situation like this…”

Shuichi:  “… Then tell me… under what circumstances is liking someone *not* weird?”

Maki:  “…Huh? I… don’t know. I don’t… really understand what that is.”

But she doesn’t understand why she would start feeling this way, because regardless of how great a guy Kaito may or may not be, it doesn’t make any sense that she’d feel this way about him, or about anyone for that matter, and it’s inconvenient and annoying. But if Shuichi also felt that way about Kaede in the same kind of situation, maybe it’s not quite so nonsensical after all?

Here’s the thing: the way Maki approaches this and her opinion of this concept here read as incredibly aromantic. I would know – I’m aromantic, and everything she just said sounds perfectly logical to me and is very similar to how I feel about such things. Yet I gather that such an opinion is an outlier and most people don’t usually see it this way.

Obviously, Maki does in fact feel this way about Kaito, or at least is beginning to, since she explicitly admits to her feelings at the end. I’m going to trust her judgement of her own feelings in that future moment enough to assume that she isn’t mistaken about them, since learning to trust and understand her own feelings is a large part of her character arc. So… Maki is demiromantic? There’s no evidence that she felt anything towards Kaito before he befriended her, so it could entirely be that the platonic affection she gained for him once he reached out and started helping her is what this has grown from. (That said, I’m not demi, so I don’t know exactly how that feels and whether that’s applicable here. She could also just be grey-aro.)

I’ll be honest: I kind of doubt that the writers were deliberately trying to portray Maki as being on the aro spectrum here, because haha canon aromantic representation in mainstream Japanese media, especially that which is more complicated than just plain aro, that’s a joke. They were probably just trying to write her as someone who’s been so emotionally numbed by her hellish backstory that she never got a chance to feel anything romance-related until now, now that she’s started to open up and be a person again. But the end result is that they’ve written a character who is incredibly aro-coded, whether they meant to or not.

Maki:  “…Nevermind. Just forget I ever asked.”

Shuichi:  “Forget you asked? Why did you bring this up, Maki?”

Maki:  “…No reason. I was only curious.”

Shuichi:  “No reason? Maki, you’re being… cruel. You ask me a personal question, then act like you don’t care—”

Shuichi’s reaction here strongly indicates that he did feel that way about Kaede, because if he truly didn’t, then he wouldn’t be hurt so much by Maki’s apparent indifference. But I should point out that this is the only actual piece of evidence in the canon storyline that Shuichi felt this way. I never mentioned his romantic feelings towards Kaede during chapter 1 because they weren’t relevant. The most important point is that they were friends. Everything Shuichi was shown to feel about Kaede back then was entirely consistent with a deep friendship brought about by this awful situation causing them to bond very quickly. All of it would have been the same even if he didn’t also happen to have had romantic feelings towards her. The romantic feelings were just an extra thing, confirmed to be most likely the case here, but not remotely the main focus.

And I appreciate that! The writing of chapter 1 could have insisted that we should care about Kaede and Shuichi specifically because there was romantic love involved, but it didn’t. Platonic love is just as important.

(This is also the case with Maki’s romantic feelings towards Kaito, for that matter. This scene and the very end of trial 5 are pretty much the only points at which they are relevant while Kaito is alive. The rest of the time, the focus isn’t on anything except their friendship. Her romantic feelings are a little bit more relevant, but there is a point to that that’s not just purely for the sake of romance itself, which I’ll talk about when we get there.)

Kaito:  “Hey! Were you guys making out while I was gone!?”

So, clearly Kaito is oblivious to what they were just discussing, and I also highly doubt that he really thinks Shuichi and Maki are into each other – at no other point does he seem to think that way or particularly care about that kind of thing. This comment probably came about because Kaito was worried during his blood-coughing session that Shuichi and Maki might have figured out something was wrong, so he deliberately tried to shut down any conversation of that nature that they might have been having by making an awkward comment like this as soon as he returned.

Shuichi:  “*Anyway*, what’s wrong, Kaito? Why did you leave all of a sudden?”

…Not that it was very successful, perhaps because of the very nature of the conversation Shuichi and Maki were actually having.

Shuichi:  “Continue? I… don’t recall you doing even one yet, Kaito.”

Heh, Shuichi is being so sassy about it. He’d… probably be less sassy if he was more aware of the reason why Kaito hasn’t even started yet.

Kaito:  “So, from the beginning! Of course, you guys are gonna restart with me!”

It’s so like Kaito to turn his own problems into an excuse to motivate his sidekicks to train even harder. Plus, this way it might not seem quite so obvious by the end that he’s done way fewer than them, at least if they don’t stop and think about it.

Kaito:  “Let your sweat wash away all your sadness, fear, worry and hardships. Just start moving your body and your pain will become memories before you know it.”

Oh, Kaito. He’s giving such good advice while being so wonderfully hypocritical about it at the same time. (Although, in fairness, he’s specifically talking about emotional pain, and at least some of his own pain is physical, which is only going to be made worse by moving his body.)

Maki:  “…Then you should train, too.”

Maki might have partially picked up on the fact that Kaito is in some amount of emotional pain, if she’s saying this.

Kaito:  “Well, I don’t have anything to worry about. Cuz, I mean… I’m Kaito Momota! Luminary of the Stars!”

But what is she talking about, Kaito is fine. The Luminary of the Stars couldn’t possibly have any worries, obviously. If he did, then he wouldn’t be able to be a very good luminary, right? So, precisely because he is the Luminary of the Stars, he must be fine. He has to be.

Shuichi:  “H-Hey! No fair, Kaito!”

Meanwhile, Shuichi is only finding it unfair that Kaito not having any worries means he supposedly gets out of having to do any sit-ups. He is not disputing the truth of what Kaito just said at all. Kaito apparently really does have Shuichi fooled, at least in terms of his emotional wellbeing, if not necessarily his physical health.

(But Maki is perhaps a little bit less fooled in the emotional department, in keeping with how last chapter made it clear that she didn’t see Kaito as particularly emotionally strong, not that that stopped him from making a difference to her.)

Shuichi:  (In the end, Kaito convinced us to do all of our sit-ups over… But Kaito and I had to give up, and only Maki was able to finish.)

Apparently Kaito did end up doing at least some sit-ups after all. Still, the final tally is: Maki did two hundred sit-ups, Shuichi did a decent amount over a hundred, and Kaito… didn’t even make it to one hundred. Yeah, he is not okay.

(Given that his symptoms include stomach pains, and that sit-ups exercise the stomach muscles… looks like Kaito’s plan to give himself an excuse to look up at space while not exercising backfired on him. Whoops.)

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[Next post]

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 13 pt 1: Mokuba Finally Gets Stockholm Syndrome

So, I have today off work so lunchtime on a Thursday feels like a better time than ever to chime in on a 20 year old anime and say, uh this episode is nuts?

Like this whole arc has been somewhat tame compared to a lot of the stuff we’ve been dealing with in regards to Yugioh. Yeah, Tristan died, but like...Marik hasn’t murdered a hundred people lately so it’s been a pretty pleasant ride. And this was alllll part of Yugioh’s greater plan, Yugioh likes to do this, where it’s been overall a monster of the week Sat Morning cartoon type of affair, giving you a false sense of “I think I know what’s going on. I think I understand the logic of this show” before they start ripping the rugs out from under your feet with no other reason than to utterly confuse you.

And it’s like you just...you don’t expect this from a kid’s show.

And like don’t tell me you predicted this episode, guys, because it makes no freakin sense. I had to binge to the next episode just because I was like holding up all my paperwork of Seto Kaiba’s timeline and motioning at my brother “SHOW ME THE RECEIPTS!!” Because y’all this did not...

This just did not.

And like I’m very calm as I write these posts, but as I was watching this episode, I kept pausing it, turning to Steve-O and saying “NO.” Of course all of that drama goes on in the second part of this episode. The first half is still that somewhat tame area where it’s definitely very weird but it’s not...it’s not unpredictably weird yet, youknow?

So, to start out, Noah has given up on trying to persuade any of the Kaibas to change. It is not a thing Kaibas do.

He decides to show off his skills as a master manipulator, by manipulating one of the most manipulated boys on this entire show. The only person more manipulated is Yugi, who is has an actual brain parasite (and people might like the brain parasite more than him even so it’s like...it’s a situation up there).

Everything from here on concerning Mokuba is bizarre and kind of frustrating. Starting with the clone entering in from the black void.

(read more under the cut)

I like that we know this is Seto because of the 6 inch hip spike on his jacket. Yo if they ever did a Netflix Live Action Yugioh first off of all, they cannot do half of the hair on this show, second of all, this jacket. It can’t be possible. And like I’ve seen some pretty good high effort Seto Cosplay but the jacket spikes are like...that’s pretty rough youknow? First off, this custom jacket would take you like 8 months to sew, it’d be insanely expensive with the custom lining and the poofy everything, and then those spikes? Like what do you even do? I can’t even imagine.

One off screen slap by the clone, and then Mokuba decided his brother is now Darth Vader. Can’t believe it was that easy.

And then, to top off my frustration with how quickly Mokuba’s Stockholm Syndrome set in--Noah could do this the entire time.

Y’all I was so mad. It’s Episode 13 and he pulls this out now, are you kidding me? The entire time. The entire freakin time. This is like “and Bakura can just shoot lasers whenever but won’t be bothered.”

I still love this storyboarder but maybe they just don’t like drawing hugs? I mean, it’s supposed to be a spooky hug, but like...it’s more like a wrestling move that Mokuba has just decided to give up and lean into.

And you know what? I get it. Drawing affection freakin sucks. Hard to explain why but trust me--it’s freakin cursed. It’s worse than drawing cars. I’d rather draw like 3 cars. (And exactly 3 because it would take a hell of a lot of money to ever make me draw 4.)

Seto decides to run ahead although, and I just want to point this out--this bridge joins in the next scene so they can all reunite and there is a car right behind him.

There is a car and he uses his damn legs.

Smartest boy in Domino.

And off he goes, his wedding dress coat elegantly flapping in the wind as he...

runs...

...down a tunnel that is clearly marked with lane lines for cars.

Because Noah gave them a car.

Meanwhile, back at the car, Joey is Done and has found a great way to win the Battle City Tournament.

They did not. It was so weird. They took out most of the the slaps, but left in this monkey burrowing into Serenity’s chest for like 20 weird seconds. It made squeaky noises.

Serenity doesn’t seem to care by the way, it’s very, very 90′s.

Anyway, Tea’s decided she’s now done hanging out with these guys and the pervert monkey, so off these two go. Off to follow the plot. On foot.

The tunnel vanishes, and these four are left outside to continue...just doing nothing guess. Duke always ends up on the lowest effort team, youknow? I dump on Duke a lot but I’ve been kinda feeling bad for him.

Anyway, inside this tunnel, Noah is catfishing Seto as Mokuba and I gotta say, it’s way better than the shorts. Just put Noah in this outfit all the time.

And our heroes have decided to save the day by going the wrong way at the fork and completely missing Seto Kaiba’s loud booming voice. How do they get lost when Kaiba is being exploded just off camera?

Like it says a lot about these kids that they got lost down a tunnel with only 1 fork.

I had to look this up, and unfortunately this is not the same house as Kaiba’s Season Zero house. Would have been a neat touch but nah, it’s just a generic university style house that no one would ever want to actually live in.

ENTER MARIK. Thank all those gods, including himself, he’s finally here. To...not do anything. Especially since this is a 2-parter. He’ll do a little more next update. Still not much, but oh man, am I glad to see Marik. Am I glad to see that third eye is absolutely still glowing on his forehead. Can’t imagine how hard it is to sleep with that thing buzzing all day.

Back in VR land, I have been hit in the face with Seto’s design and it’s like the first time I’ve ever seen it.

Every single season of Yugioh spices up the character designs a tad and it takes a little while to get used to. I think Seto may have been slightly exaggerated in this scene but...he still seems way taller now. Like he’s basically Yugioh Pumpkin King at this point. Peak 00′s.

Anyway, was this why Noah said “Look down” ? Because like...that’s not really a hint if you throw him down a hole.

Seto’s reaction to this was “I’m just really tired of everything that’s happened today and I’m going home.” and he grabbed Mokuba by the hand to leave but, apparently Mokuba is too slippery to be abducted twice?

Weird that the only person who physically cannot abduct Mokuba is Seto Kaiba. The only person.

And just like that, Mokuba is now on team Noah and Seto is just...standing there. Noah is sort of a god person in this universe since he can code whatever he wants around him but like...

...still feels a little weird to see Seto go from “I’ll punch whatever I need to get Moki back” in S1 to “I guess Moki hates me so I’ll let him stay here now” when Mokuba is clearly possessed.

Anyways, this all gets much weirder next episode, but it was very, very long so I split it in two. Like I dunno how many of you want to read tumblr posts that rival Livejournal posts in length so...we’ll save that for next time. (in fact I was just telling bro that if Tumblr does go down, I don’t even know if there’s long-form blogging platforms left other than like webcomic sites and fanfic sites. We’ll cross our fingers that I never have to move this blog over to like...Tapas ((I would never do that ps, Tapas is a nightmare to upload to even if you just want to do comics and that is a whole story in and of itself)))

But ya. Noah could just mind control whoever.

Like whoever.

Y’all the past 12 episodes were kind of like Bakura level of “I could do something, if I felt like it, and it would take like 2 seconds max and nobody would stop me, but then I’d have to get off my ass, and I’m too busy watching the world burn to bother.”

Which is very much every villain in Yugioh, being real.

If you just found my blog, here’s a place to find all the episodes in chrono order from S1 Ep1, I apologize now that I never separated them into seasons, turns out a Yugioh season is just unapologetically long oops my bad.