#I will completely subjugate this world so that nothing can hurt me anymore.

[egooppidum]

Player: Was killing Cazador not enough? You already want more?

Astarion: Vengeance has been reaped upon Cazador, but not the world that made him. Not the world that makes people like him. (devnote: Scared, deep down.)

Player: People like you.

Astarion: Shut up. You don't know what it was like. You never will.

(This is ascended dialogue btw. Ascended!Astarion is scared, deep down)

"This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear. Or else we never really live." - Astarion Ancunin

[lailyn]

Take My Breath Away, Part 2

TW: Paralysis

Metro-General Hospital

“I think it’s Guillain-Barre syndrome.”

“Are you sure?” Christine asked in new-found anxiety. "Are you absolutely sure?"

“Of course I’m not,” Stephen said tersely. “I can’t be. But the clinical picture fits. He had the respiratory infection that was going around last week, and the tingling and weakness started today.”

For the hundredth time since he brought Loki in to the emergency room, fully paralysed from the waist down, he cursed himself. “I should have known something was up.”

How could he have missed the signs? The lingering weakness, the unsteady walking, the general malaise that was so out of character for Loki...all of them Stephen had simply put down to a post-viral infection fatigue, instead of something much more serious.

Life-threatening, a voice corrected. 

“Don’t beat yourself up, Stephen. It’s not helping.” Ever the voice of reason, Christine was still the grounding force he had once relied on. “Focus on what’s important.” 

“It’s progressing way too quickly,” Stephen said worriedly, staring through the observation window into the room where Loki was currently resting. 

“He hasn’t consented to assisted ventilation?”

Stephen shook his head, visibly morose. “He hates the idea of being put to sleep.”

“He’s going to tire soon,” Christine warned. “We’re risking respiratory failure.”

“I brought in the big gun.”

Stephen nodded at the tall figure whose silhouette they could see pacing Loki’s room like a caged tiger. “Let’s hope Thor can knock some sense into his brother.”

***************************

“Brother, you are clearly struggling. Why are you giving the doctors a difficult time?”

Loki refused to answer. He was not wasting precious breath explaining his reasoning, unreasonable as it may be, to someone so adamant in his mission to subjugate Loki to the mercy of doctors, human doctors who knew nothing about his kind.

"Loki, we don't have much time."

"There is no 'we' here, Doctor Banner."

Loki turned his head slowly to the other figure in the far corner of the room. 

Like a Shadow. Like Death. Just standing there waiting. 

“There is no treatment. You said so yourself.” Loki closed his eyes. He did not wish to see Thor's expression. Also, the double vision was worsening. “They can do nothing."

“Human immunoglobulin therapy is incompatible, and we are risking anaphylaxis with artificial plasma exchange,” Bruce repeated the conversation he had with Stephen word for word. "But there's still something we can do to help you tide this over - "

"There is no tiding over anything," Loki said in frustration; if he had the strength, he would have ripped out the oxygen-delivering cannula from his nose. "What you are doing is merely prolonging the inevitable."

"Going on life support is not a death sentence, Loki," Bruce said, his voice hard. 

"None of you can tell me with absolute certainty when you can take me off it," Loki rasped. "What was the 'ballpark' figure again? Weeks to month? No."

The outburst cost Loki energy he could not afford, and the harsh sounds of his gasps drowned the noises of the machines.

"Brother!" Stricken, Thor dropped into the chair and grasped Loki's shoulder. "Save your strength."

The wiry cords of muscles of Loki's normally slender neck bulged as the Asgardian struggled to pull air into his starving lungs, and Bruce could not help but stare. Soon, those muscles too, like the respiratory muscles in his thorax and diaphragm, would cease to function. 

When one's own immune system attacks one's own nerves, the result is devastating, Stephen had said. 

"I'm calling Strange," Bruce said.

“No, you are not,” Loki gasped. “I will not be put down like some kind of animal."

If Loki had seen the devastation in Stephen's eyes the moment Bruce told him they simply did not have enough of Loki's blood sequestered in storage for emergencies such as this, Loki would be singing a different tune.

"Stop being such an idiot," Bruce snapped. "Noone's putting you down, and you are not going to die. Get over yourself and snap out of it!"

Loki's sneer curled into a cruel, ugly smile. "Of course. I had no say in how I lived. How could I expect differently now that I am dying?"

"Loki," Thor growled warningly.

"What will you do, Brother?" Loki asked. "Take Mjolnir to my head? What will you do to force me to submit to you?"

Now that he was calmer, he could breathe easier.

Or perhaps, it was simply a momentary respite, a blessed, temporary relief before…

Before what?

Loki stared at the bright lights over his head and something in him died at the paradox of seeing something so glaring, so full of life, when the rest of his body from the neck down was shutting down.

"I wish to be alone."

***************************

"Any luck?" Stephen asked quietly.

He had pulled some strings and gotten Loki a private room, away from the public eye. It was good thinking on his part, for the expression on Thor and Bruce's faces as they stepped out of the room and into the hallway could only be described as murderous.

"There's no getting through to him," Bruce fumed. The physicist looked furious enough to punch a hole through the hospital wall, and for a precious moment, Stephen felt touched by the sentiment.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "For trying."

Bruce pulled off his glasses and massaged his eyes. "So what do we do now? Just wait till he passes out and then stick a tube down his throat?" 

"Christine would never agree to that." 

"Surely you can do it?" Thor asked. 

"Physically, sure. Medicolegally? Ethically?" Stephen shook his head. "And I would never do that to Loki."

"Can't you make this immunogoblin thing? The one that you said wasn't compatible?" Thor pleaded. 

"IV immunoglobulin's derived from a large pool of plasma collected from thousands of blood donors, Thor," Bruce said glumly. "There's only one of him."

"But we've started saving Loki's blood, have we not?" Thor pressed. "Can't you two work with that?"

"Even if we had the resources to isolate and autotransfuse Loki with his own immunoglobulins, it will not be enough," Stephen said quietly. "And the treatment is only helpful in lessening the severity of the disease." 

"You don't mean…" Thor could not bring himself to complete his sentence.

"There is no known cure for Guillain Barre syndrome."

Thor's jaw gave an abrupt click, before his broad shoulders squared a split-second later. "Then I go to Jotunnheim."

Bruce's head whipped up, and together, the two humans stared at the God of Thunder like he had gone mad. 

"Quill can take me. We're good friends and he has a strong, sturdy ship." Thor's chest swelled in sheer determination. "We set course for Jotunnheim and I will come back with what you need."

Stephen fought to hold on to the last shred of composure, to keep his voice steady, "Loki will not last the night."

Thor turned as white as a sheet and began to shake.

"For Norns' sake, Man, will you not do something?"

The tears brewing in the stormy blue eyes was all the motivation Stephen needed; with a determined nod, he pushed Loki's door open and stepped inside.

***************************

Stephen watched Loki's chest rise and fall, shallow and laboriously slow. 

"I do not fear going to sleep," Loki finally spoke when he could no longer stand the deafening silence. 

"Then what is it?" Stephen begged. "What's got you so scared that you won't even try?"

"I fear coming out of it."

"What?"

Loki's lips wobbled. "I heard what your Christine said, about the possibility of permanent damage."

"Loki, we don't know anything about any of that."

But Loki was not listening, so consumed was he by his delusion. "I fear coming back a cripple. A degenerate."

Stephen could only stare at him, stunned. 

"I was broken when I came to you," Loki said quietly. "I cannot come back broken. Not again."

"You would rather die for fear of something you think's going to happen? Something unknown?" Stephen asked incredulously, the betrayal blatant in his eyes and bitter on his tongue.

"Then tell me something," Loki said softly. "Tell me that something unknown."

"When we first met..." Stephen's thumb danced across the back of Loki's insensate hand. To think that Loki could not feel him anymore, it hurt him beyond reason.

"You asked me how this was all going to end, for us," Stephen recalled. "Do you remember?"

"What about it?" Loki asked, his voice hollow. 

"This is not it," Stephen said, gripping Loki's hand firmly. "This is not how it ends."

Loki's eyes brimmed with tears. "Tell me how."

"I see you and me at the far edge of the world ." Stephen kissed Loki's eyelids, one after the other. "Standing shoulder to shoulder, just us."

"Standing?" Loki echoed breathlessly. 

Stephen nodded, and his own tears landed on the bed, darkening it in places. "At the altar too."

Loki let out a sob. 

"I love you, Loki." A hand grasped the side of his face tenderly. "Whole, broken, I don't care. I just love you."

"As do I," Loki wept silently. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, what with the invisible weight on his chest. "So very much."

Stephen kissed his mouth fiercely, long, hard and desperate.

"So you gotta do this for me. For us." Stephen's forehead felt hot against his. "Okay?"

"Okay." Loki breathed in as deeply as his constricted chest would allow, committing what he could of Stephen's scent to memory. "Okay."

In a matter of minutes, Loki found himself staring up into a pair of hazel eyes, familiar in their kindness, comforting in their confidence.

"We will take good care of you, Prince Loki," Doctor Christine Palmer smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry about a thing."

She nodded at someone Loki could not see, and a mask was placed over his face. A sweet-smelling gas began to fill his mouth and Loki coughed weakly. 

"Shhh." A hand he knew very well caressed the top of his head. "Sleep, Brother."

Loki's vision blurred. Shadows merged into swaths of colours, of bright blues and greys.

Stephen.

His tears ran freely down the sides of his face but he could no longer feel them. 

He was floating, and there was no one there where he was going. 

Then he heard a whisper in his ear, "I'll be here when you wake."

There you are, Loki thought, and everything went black. 

[aotopmha]

Chapter 126 went back to showing AoT's greatest weakness - which is getting the story, specifically plot, where it needs to be.

I think it's the weakest chapter we've had in quite a while because of how scattered it is, but I very much appreciate we're actually closer to uniting everyone in one location now, which is one part of giving the story it's final direction.

One thing I feel is that the Tumblr demographic *probably* won't like where the story is going and the other more right-leaning places will probably take the wrong message out of it in a very different direction.

The hero we've been following all this time is now the "villain" and will probably have to die.

At the very least, there will have to be massive consequences for Eren here.

He started a damn *genocide attempt* and his actions have already killed many people, no matter how understandable his fall to this place he's at right now has been.

We had an entire chapter dedicated to how his idealism was destroyed from a very empathic perspective. It's so strange to me people claim we have no perspective on Eren when we literally had an entire chapter about it. We've seen the flashback to Eren sitting in the cart with his friends for like 3 times now.

We've literally been told this is going on because he doesn't want anyone he cares about to be killed and he's seen so much hate for everyone he cares about that he just saw no other solution anymore, but is simply going too far with it.

Nothing wrong with people feeling confused about or feeling like it's not enough etc. It's never directly stated, but I personally feel like we also don't need to be spoon-fed everything.

Personally speaking it was even becoming a little too in-your-face to me. You have to be careful empathising with a character that wants a genocide.

We can't have a fairy tale ending where everything is "pure" and "okay" now and I think most of us have pretty much expected that.

Ending it in a way where Eren is forgiven would be the standard, most straight-forward dramatic solution (and, well, people like stuff in their comfort zone, which is also very understandable as to why people want this to end that way), but it's also very morally screwed up.

On the flip side, I think ending it with no understanding for Eren is also equally wrong and something AoT also probably won't do because that's not what it has ever done and would very much go against it's philosophy of showing every single character as human in some way.

Tl; dr, if you know Connie's character, Connie's just being his hyperbolic self, the story is not saying you should start seeing Eren as the villain now, which is where I think most of the complaining comes from.

Right now, we're seeing complete chaos - the victory of extremism and radicalisation, which is an extremely important element to a story about fascism.

It's the lowest point preceeding the highest and it has to be there to see how fascism and it's "excuse" of freedom could be defeated.

It's also extremely uncomfortable, heavy and chaotic.

While browsing for some other perspectives for this chapter, I saw an observation along the lines of "why can't everything just sort itself out? Everything feels so forced."

You could 100% read it as the plot just being forced to where it needs to go, but I suspected Connie would hesitate and I don't feel like his reaction was out of character, myself. He's been idealistic and talks in extremes a lot, but he's also extremely empathic. Connie's mom was addressed, but the ultimate point was to bring a bunch of fractions together again.

People are extremely irrational and this is a extremely politically complicated situation.

A extremist movement within a minority race is threatening to subjugate the whole world - along with their *own country*. The people Eren so wants to protect are suffering because of him, too.

I think that's what will probably save the Eldians, though.

We got a bunch of the 104th together again, but more importantly, we got the highest ranking officers, Hange and Magath, talking and they're both some of the (if not the only) high ranking officers of both countries that are still alive.

If nothing else, there is at least a chance Marley and Eldia can reach a truce here if both countries are still functional once this whole thing ends.

I think Levi's story possibly won't have a very happy conclusion because he seems pretty focused on his revenge and we don't have a place for that right now.

I really appreciate Hange's proactivity and Annie loosening up.

I can see Mikasa ending up pretty angry when confronting Eren again.

Another child is about to die because of Eren's indirect actions and presence. I can see Mikasa actually growing very angry with him because the Jaegerists are literally called *The Jaegerists*.

Eren is not only hurting the people he wants to protect, but also being extremely irresponsible about the position of power he has. Something Mikasa has learned not to do.

So yeah, we're heading for Eren, but I think it's 100% going to be a lot more nuanced than I see being talked about.

I think this is a pretty valuable narrative for making people examine their relationships.

When is the time to put your foot down in a relationship?

Alternatively, when is the time to forgive someone you care about?

Pride also couldn't be a more appropriate title for this chapter.

Armin was talked down from killing himself.

Connie and Levi are being extremely stubborn right now.

Mikasa is reminded of her own values in the scene with Louise - she doesn't want any more children to die.

Other than that Gabi, Falco, Mikasa, Connie, Annie, Armin and Reiner are all in one place.

Yelena, Onyakapon and Jean are also together with Hange, Pieck and Magath now.

We now have two larger groups instead of everyone being separated and a specific direction for both: Eren/Zeke.

Floch is now the only straggler from the cast.

What remains to be seen is how the story handles this and I am interested.

I think I won't be doing my more detailed chapter posts for a while for now because I'm busy with work, but I will get to them eventually. If I can write them, full chapter posts will be out once the other chapter versions are out.

[thebladeblaster]

Pokémon: the Dark Circuit (aka Vanguard Descends season 2)

Chapter 8 Prelude To The Circuit Part 1

Aichi’s current team

Level 81 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 79 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 80 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 86 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

There is only an endless void around.

“Some people thought of you as the devil.”

A child Oliver sits on the ground looking over to someone.

“However I knew better.”

The person he was looking at was a younger Aichi with his back turned. His face was hidden though tears trailing down his cheeks were visible.

“I knew that in reality you were kinder than anyone.”

The young Oliver got up and approached Aichi.

“You simply wouldn’t let your enemies see it.”

The young Aichi briefly looked over to Olivier acknowledging his presence. Olivier put a comforting hand on Aichi’s shoulder.

“You had the burden of a great destiny. One that far exceeded me or anyone else. However I wasn’t envious in the slightest. I knew it was tough for you extremely tough especially with your kind heart.”

The young Aichi walks forward as he does; he seems to grow older. His clothes changed from his attire as a kid. He now wore a long black general-like coat lined with red. The side of the shoulders had a yellow part hanging off. Underneath was some sort of white zipped up top. He wore grey pants and long white boots. He had a belt similar to his father’s with a red A.

“I decided I wanted to be by your side. I wanted to protect you and aid you .”

The young Oliver followed Aichi, also growing older and wearing the same clothes as his current self.

“Conquering others. Subjugating nations. Bringing the world to your feet. Guiding the world. That is what it means to be the messiah. The world may consider you a devil. But I consider you as what you truly are. You will do what needs to be done even if the world curses you as a demon. You are the true messiah who brought peace to the world.”

Olivier vision got blurry and he swayed. He held out his hand desperately out to Aichi as he got further away.

“So why…?”

“Why?”

“Why have you betrayed Team Asteroid? You were more loyal to Team Asteroid than anyone else?!”

Oliver blinks looking around feeling confused. His vision started to become clearer as it did he noticed the pungent scent of smoke everywhere. He noticed his feet were moving as despite his state as if he wasn’t really there and simply reliving a memory. He walked by the side of Aichi in the same attire he was wearing before. The land around them was scarred and billowing with smoke. Once radiant gold buildings had been tarnished in the destruction. The once magnificent structures were now nothing more than rubble. Even the grandiose statue of Arceus was not unscathed. He could make out a stronghold which they seemed to be heading to. You could tell that the building was a bit worse for wear.

Oliver wanted to reach out and speak to Aichi beside him like when he had finally reunited with him. Aichi’s eyes were trained forward as straight as an arrow towards the stronghold. He felt completely different then from when he met him before or even when they were kids. No trace of weakness shown in his expression. He was completely focused on the objective in front of him like a good soldier.

Various elemental attacks shot at them. He felt like jumping, but his body didn’t move. Aichi didn’t seem alarmed in the slightest. They continued to walk forward unfettered to his shock. He noticed a psychic barrier had formed around them. Tons of smoke blocked his vision as they were continuously bombarded with attacks. After a few minutes the attacks ceased.

“Haha! We did it”, one of the people in the stronghold said.

“Those demons must be dead, not even a legendary can survive such an attack!”, another gloated.

Underneath the cover of smoke Oliver saw Aichi’s expression shift to amusement. Aichi continued to walk forward before in an instant he seemed to vanish. The smoke cleared from his vision and the barrier still remained. Aichi stood behind the soldiers holding their general in one hand casually. The general was sweating rivers of sweat and shaked. The soldiers gasped, turning to Aichi and their Pokémon faced him. The general seemed to be struggling to breathe possibly due to the effects of Aichi’s aura like what happened in Hammerlocke caste.

“Guess who?”, Aichi said with amusement.

You could see the general’s hair turning white from all of the stress. His heart beating loudly against his chest and sweating rivers of sweat.

“P-put h-him down!”, a soldier demanded.

Aichi just scoffed, having a very confident look.

“Honestly...you dare tell your god what to do.”, Aichi finally said...no it didn’t seem like exactly the Aichi he met or even the 003v he knew.

The soldier flinched and he backed away unconsciously and noticed their Pokémon had moved back far away from Aichi quivering in fear. These weren’t wimpy Pokémon either, these were: Charizards, Tyranitars, Aggrons, Nidokings, Gyaradoses, Electivires, Hydriegons, Garchomps, Druddigons, and far more.

“You aren’t in the position to make demands anyway.”, Aichi said as he raised up his hand to the general’s neck.

“H-hey what a-are you waiting f-for attack him!?!?!?”, a soldier ordered the Pokémon pointing at Aichi who wore a smug smile.

Tyranitar is a Pokémon that lives for a battle, a Pokémon that actively seeks out challengers and is said to have unbreakable armor. It nervously shuffled back like it was a Pachirisu or something. The Pokémon looked over Aichi cautiously full of fear. Aichi outstretched a hand to the Pokémon with a smile on his face.

“Do you want to come with me? Do you want to get back at them for how they have been treating you?”, Aichi asked.

The Pokémon shuffled nervously looking at each other. A shiny Lycanroc looked down at its damaged paw. You could tell that it had been whipped and beaten a lot; the signs were all over a few of the Pokémon to varying degrees.

“You really think our Pokémon would betray us?! We have raised most of them since they were babies!”, a soldier said.

The Lycanroc looked over to Aichi feeling almost lured in. The aura he gave off while to enemies it can choke the will out of them to others it can feel extremely warm and inviting. It was an aura that naturally made those exposed to it want to give up everything for him. Some Pokémon tensed closer towards Aichi. The soldiers expression shifted to disbelief in horror as the Pokémon started walking over to Aichi’s side. A soldier raised a gun to shoot the Pokémon however Aichi used his psychic powers to jam the gun.

“Good choice. Now...”, Aichi said as he turned to the frightened soldiers.

He walked over to Aichi’s side raising a Poké ball. Aichi raised up one as well as the soldiers cowered.

“Go, Morgana!”, Aichi called out, throwing out a Inteleon.

“Go, Percival!”, Oliver called out, throwing out his Cinderace.

“Morgana use snipe shot!”, Aichi ordered.

“Percival use pyro ball!”, Oliver ordered.

Their attacks hit the soldiers and the other Pokémon joined in.

“W-why?!”, a soldier questioned.

“You shouldn’t be surprised. Considering how you have been treating these Pokémon. It’s ironic this place used to be a preserve but the moment the rare Pokémon that it was supposed to be protecting became useful to them of course as you humans tend to do...you exploited them.”, Aichi said, frowning.

Aichi turned away walking as Oliver followed. The soldiers screamed as they were attacked by their former Pokémon till eventually they went silent.

“It was just platitudes. They didn’t care at all…”, Aichi said, his voice more quiet now.

Oliver put his hand on his shoulder as they walked through the former preserve. He noticed a flicker of sadness in Aichi’s eyes. Many were beaten pretty badly which was likely intentional considering they can easily be healed by the healing stations all over the faculty.

“Olivier can you call for some grunt to pick them up?”, Aichi asked.

“Yeah...It’s fine 003v they be fine now.”, Oliver replied as he pulled out a communicator.

As Oliver made the call he noticed two employees of the company standing in front of an injured Haxorus. It seemed they had been rushing, likely hearing that they had arrived. The Haxorus growled at them stubbornly grabbing one of the whips the employees had with its teeth.

“Darn it you stupid reptile! Just give it to us! Before that-“, one of the employees was saying before he froze.

He desperately tried to move and panicked as he realized he couldn’t move his body. Both of them screamed as Aichi walked between them. Aichi looked down at the injured Haxorus and it seemed to be protecting something. It held an egg close to its chest. The Haxorus backed away nervously as Aichi approached with eyes full of paranoia and roared at Aichi.

“Hey, it’s alright. I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”, Aichi assured.

The Haxorus growled at him and Aichi looked taken aback. Unlike him Olivier couldn’t understand Pokémon. The Haxorus staggered and swayed as Aichi reached out for the Haxorus.

“W-wait!”, Aichi pleaded, before the Haxorus started to fall.

He caught the Haxorus with his psychic powers before it fell. Aichi lowered his head, closing his eyes.

“She’s dead...you…”, Aichi said with venom in his voice and glared at the two employees who tried to cower but couldn’t move.

Aichi was surrounded in a dark blue aura.

“All of that for an egg! You killed her for her egg!”, Aichi said, his voice full of rage.

“W-wait we can explain?!”, the employee stampered.

“Explain it to Giratina after you see him in the Distortion World.”, Aichi replied as the two panicked more.

As Oliver finished the call the employees bodies crumpled to the ground dead. Aichi held the Haxorus’s egg securely.

“You gave everything to protect this egg. I won’t let it be in vain.”, Aichi said.

Olivier felt a sad smile form on his face. Aichi lowered down the Haxorus’s body gently and closed her eyes. Aichi’s eyes were shadowed as he did so.

“003v. It’s alright.”, Olivier assured patting his shoulder as Aichi stubbornly looked away.

“It’s alright for you to feel. No one else is here.”, Olivier continued.

Olivier could see him holding back his tears before finally letting them fall.

“W-why...can’t I just be emotionless?”, Aichi questioned, putting his hand over his heart.

He may be able to trick their enemies but he couldn’t trick him. Oliver gave him a small hug.

In reality Olivier rushes to Aichi and the others before they leave.

“It’s a long story but after I completed the Millennium Puzzle a spirit came from it.”, Yugi explained, gesturing his necklace.

“Alright.”, Aichi accepted nodding like that was perfectly normal.

The others sweat dropped at this. To be fair considering how weird Aichi’s own existence was it was no surprise he wasn’t bothered by something so ridiculous. Then suddenly Aichi froze and a worried expression appeared on his face.

“Wait...Oh...Arceus...my mom is going to kill me...”, Aichi realized, looking very pale.

Kai and Misaki sweat dropped at this and Kamui looked fearful knowing very well how Aichi’s mother could be.

“Your mom? Is something wrong?”, Tea asked.

“I-I’ve got to go back to Kakusa as soon as possible! I’ll just have to train there and make sure she does not find out.”, Aichi replied, looking very panicked and fearful.

“I don’t get what the deal is. It’s just your mom.”, Jonouchi replied cluelessly.

“Aichi’s mom is a scary woman…”, Kamui replied shaking.

“And she’s overprotective of him.”, Misaki added.

“Ooh…”, Jonouchi replied as Aichi quickly looked around for a way back to Kakusa.

“Well our boat got blown up so you would have to fly back.”, Yugi said.

“I...I don’t have any flying Pokémon. I’ll just have to…”, Aichi pondered.

Flying there with his Psyqualia crossed his mind though he was still a bit worried about losing control again. Still...he knew he would have to use it again eventually versus Leon. So, whether he likes it or not he must use it.

“I guess...I’ll fly myself.”, Aichi said, before his feet started to hover above the ground and the Kantonians jumped in shock.

“Wait...but Olivier...this might be my one chance to talk to him.”, Aichi thought.

“I have to do something here first.”, Aichi said.

“Well, your not going alone.”, Misaki said, and Aichi reluctantly nodded in response.

“Alright.”, Aichi agreed, knowing how much he had already made them worry.

Aichi sees Oliver approaching him from a distance. The others look a bit cautiously as he comes near. Aichi starts approaching Oliver much to their confusion.

“Hey bro what are you doing?!”, Kamui questioned incredulously.

“I need to talk to him.”, Aichi replied simply.

“Why? He could have been sent down here by Gin.”, Misaki asked.

Aichi said nothing looking towards Oliver who was now there. Jonouchi sneered at Oliver and Honda readied to hold him back if he needed to. Yugi looked at Aichi with confusion and curiosity as to why he was doing this.

“Oliver we need to talk before I leave.”, Aichi said.

“Wait...did...did he ever introduce himself?”, Anzu pondered.

“No, he didn’t.”, Misaki replied.

“How do you know him bro?”, Kamui questioned.

“Oliver is the son of Arthur Gaillard, my father’s brother. Making us cousins.”, Aichi revealed as the others gasped in shock.

The others gasped in shock besides Kai who just looked shocked but didn’t vocalize it.

“Your cousin?!”, Kamui questioned.

“I spent a lot of my early life with him. Just give me a few minutes. Please.”, Aichi said.

“...Alright. Fine, but me and Kamui will be there to make sure there’s no funny business.”, Misaki replied.

[mittensmorgul]

7.06, Slash Fiction.

gooey doppelganger crime spree. I love Frank. but this episode is an interesting take on point of view and perspective, in a season where the big bads are masters of deceptive identity, stealing identities to blend into human society, appearing perfectly normal at a glance but subtly shifting behavior to bring their hidden agendas to fruition...

They lie, they infiltrate and manipulate, and have a long-term plan to subjugate and devour humanity.

We get an interesting view into both Sam and Dean from the Leviathans who've assumed their identities:

Leviathan!Dean: [talking about a burger] You know, he has one of these every day? And in his heart, he thinks they're almost as good as sex. This? [gesturing with the burger] Is disgusting. Leviathan!Sam: [pushing away his own plate] Dead plants with creamy goo. It's like eating self-righteousness. Leviathan!Dean: I mean, honestly, I just... You know what? I can't stand the guy. Talk about a hero complex. And he doesn't have relationships. No, he has applications for sainthood. Oh, and he thinks he's funny. He thinks he's a damn comedian. Leviathan!Sam: Who has two thumbs and full-blown bats in the belfry? [points at himself with both thumbs] Leviathan!Sam: I'm serious. It's nothing but Satan-vision on the inside. I mean, how he's walking around in a jacket with detachable arms is beyond me. You know, I had a brother with this many issues once. Leviathan!Dean: Yeah? Leviathan!Sam: You know what I did? Leviathan!Dean: Mmm? Leviathan!Sam: I ate him. Leviathan!Dean: Of course you did. Leviathan!Sam: How are these guys even a threat? Leviathan!Dean: Boss says they gotta go, they gotta go. Leviathan!Sam: Right. Idea. You wanna trade? I mean, I'll take chuckles over schizo. Leviathan!Dean: No, I like this one's hair better. You can stay in the big one. Leviathan!Sam: All right. In that case, let's turn up the heat. The sooner I get out of this and into something more stable, the better.

Which... yep... validates Dean's mistrust of Sam right now, despite this being the episode that at the end has Sam storming off in hurt indignation:

SAM: Don't – don't lie to me again. No, don't even talk to me. Yeah, I can't. You know what, Dean? I can't. DEAN: You can't what? SAM: I can't talk to you right now! Dean... I can't even be around you right now! DEAN: Okay, so— SAM: I think you should just go on without me. Go. DEAN: All right. Sorry, Sam.

Referring back to Dean killing Amy Pond in 7.03, his guilt over which is pointed at with huge neon arrows in 7.04, but which he completely comes to terms with by 7.07, because DAMMIT HE IS NOT WRONG:

DEAN: You're pissed, okay? And you've got a right. SAM: Yeah, damn straight. DEAN: But enough's enough. SAM: Says who? Look, I'll work this damn case, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend. DEAN: No, I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn't know her, you'd have done the same thing. SAM: I did know her, Dean. DEAN: Yeah, which is why you couldn't do it. Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can't. SAM: Don't pull that card! That's bull. Look, if I've learned one thing, it's that if something feels wrong, it probably is! DEAN: Usually, yeah. But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn't do it, so I did. That's what family does – the dirty work. And I woulda told you, eventually, once I knew that this whole "waving a gun at Satan" thing was a one-time show. I think it's reasonable to want to know that you're off the friggin' high dive, Sam. You almost got us both killed, so you can be pissed all you want, but quit being a bitch.

Aah, all the lies, all around. Sam said in 7.04 that he just didn't feel guilty anymore, saying he just doesn't feel guilty anymore. He feels like yeah he did bad stuff, but he paid his dues in Hell, as if that suffering cancelled out all the bad. Which has long been one of Sam's go-to maneuvers. He's really REALLY good at compartmentalizing things like this, reducing his issues to equations and balancing them out. It explains his healthy food obsession-- using exercise and "healthy living" as a factor of "purity" to balance out his lifelong struggle with feeling "tainted" because of the demon blood he was fed as a baby. And he does the same thing with his own feelings of personal responsibility here. To Sam, his suffering in Hell was moral "payment" for his role in freeing Lucifer.

Dean expressed something similar when he got out of Hell (in 4.05), but for him the expression was entirely physical (the disappearance of all the evidence of his old injuries and a restoration to a baseline of physical wholeness), and in no way a "moral" restoration or absolution of his emotional state. In other words, in 7.06 and 7.07, Dean acts from an understanding that Sam is actively deluding himself, which is underscored by the Leviathan!Them coming to that same conclusion regarding Sam's inner mental state.

Avoidance works for Sam, but it's not honest. Meanwhile, Dean atones by his ongoing need to do the right thing, feeling like he will never be able to atone for the past, never truly be forgiven for the things he feels guilty over. He doesn't believe he can achieve a clean slate, in other words. No amount of good can undo the bad, but maybe in the end, his final tally will include more good than bad.

And this is the underlying message of the wound on Sam's hand. Even after the wound heals into a fading scar, he still finds himself squeezing it freaking CONSTANTLY. Skipping for a moment to 7.09:

SAM: Yeah. Yeah, I kind of mean more like, uh... more like ever since my head broke... and we lost Cas. I mean, you ever feel like he's -- he's going through the same motions but he's not the same Dean, you know? BOBBY: How could he be? SAM: Right, yeah, but what if -- BOBBY: What if what, Sam? You know, you worry about him. All he does is worry about you. Who's left to live their own life here? The two of you -- aren't you full up just playing Snuffleupagus with the Devil all the live long? SAM: I don't know, Bobby. Seeing Lucifer's fine with me. BOBBY: Come again? SAM: Look, I'm not saying it's fun. I mean, to be honest with you, I-I kind of see it as the best-case scenario. I mean... SAM presses the hand he injured in 7.01 Meet the New Boss. SAM: ...at least all my crazy's under one umbrella, you know? I kind of know what I'm dealing with. A lot of people got it worse.

This rather eerily harks back to Sam's manipulative thoughts about Dean from s4, when he was convinced that Dean was weak. Not strong enough to kill Lilith. Which led directly to Sam keeping all sorts of secrets from Dean because he'd convinced himself that only he was seeing things clearly while Dean was deluding himself. Considering Sam's lifetime of having been "manipulated" with half-truths and subterfuge John trained Dean to employ for Sam's own "protection," it's... kinda understandable to a degree, but it's so, so frustrating to watch.

But this was the line of thinking back in 7.02 that led Sam to hide the full truth of his Hallucifering from Dean, to shield Dean from having yet another thing to worry about, because Sam believed he had everything under control, consolidated under this singular umbrella that he could close and push side by explicitly refusing to acknowledge it. By squeezing his hand like it was the Ignore Lucifer Magic Button. In the short term, it worked perfectly, zapping the hallucination. But it was also something Dean could actively SEE happening. Every time Sam squeezes his hand, Dean knows Sam is experiencing a bout of Not Engaging With Reality. But he has zero guarantee that Sam would even recognize every instance of his hallucinations for what they are, and he has a history of rationalizing away whatever he wants based on what he chooses to believe. Kinda... scary...

(and this will come to a head later in the season, when Sam actively engages with his hallucination which serves to validate it as reality, at which point he succumbs to it completely-- which is what Dean's been half-expecting since 7.02...)

Heck it's all lies, all the way down.

[sir-teatei-moonlight]

Xenoblade reference: Interesting NPC text (Colony 9/Tephra Cave)

So I managed to (somewhat accidentally) get a text dump of most if not all NPC comments in Colony 9 (and surrounding areas of the same map), and I also went and did Tephra Cave because it’s small (well, in NPC count) and close by. It doesn’t tell me who’s saying what for the most part, but for the purposes of this post that’s not necessary: I’m just looking for interesting worldbuilding material. The process should be repeatable for other locations, but it’ll be a bit slow going.

I trawled through as much text as I could find and plucked out the interesting stuff. From what I can tell, this includes generic comments as well as quest text. Spoilers obviously.

Colony 9

People

"You shouldn't go outside the colony on your own, Shulk. The monsters will eat you alive! At least keep that hulking lummox around to fight them off."

"Oh, if it isn't Shulk and Fiora! You two are pretty close. I see you together at all hours of the day! Just don't get too close and leave Reyn feeling left out. Poor guy!"

"Fiora's alive? That's wonderful news! And not just because the area will smell like her great cooking again!"

"Make sure the girl doesn't get hurt. And you there, the scrawny one. Get the big one to help you out! The three of you are the funniest lot I've seen round here in ages."

"Shulk, don't be keeping Fiora out all night! Dunban's sits at his window watching what you do. I'm kidding! Come on, Dunban wouldn't do something so creepy. ...Would he?"

"Did you know about Dunban and Mumkhar? They competed against each other to be the one to use the Monado. In the end, Dunban won." "Mumkhar was always so angry after that. I guess he'd be using it now if he was still alive. Dunban can't handle it anymore."

"Dickson is actually the commander of the soldiers and scientists. But he's often away so Vangarre is acting as colonel. I just wish they'd made Dunban colonel instead..."

"I've been training in Arts using claw weapons lately. It's my dream to master Mumkhar's Hell Dive Claw." "If only he was still alive to teach me. It's a shame he's gone."

Races

"A lot more girls have become soldiers since the war ended."

"No Nopon on Mechonis? Even Nopon Merchants not go there yet? That not sound like Nopon."

"The Mechon had complete superiority. It was as if they knew absolutely everything about this colony."

"It turns out that the Giants' fate was linked to the White Spiders. The Giant in the coffin was in fact the Giants' Soothsayer. The Soothsayer subjugated the White Spiders. But when the Soothsayer died, the White Spiders were freed. That's when they started to amass power. So the Giants offered sacrifices in order to avoid a war! But the Giants' numbers grew ever smaller. Soon the oppressors had clearly become the oppressed. They were unable to fight back against the White Spiders. They were forced to live a meagre existence behind closed doors."

Creatures

"Pack Armus are different to other monsters. They're perfectly tame. Most monsters will attack Homs. Don't let yourself get hurt!"

Defence Force

"This vehicle managed to survive the war a year ago. Feels like we're squeezing the last bit of life out of it. We have to be careful with it. But Colonel Vangarre's violent. I dunno if it can last much longer."

"The mobile artillery used to have five machines. They got destroyed one by one in the war. Now there's only one left."

"The mobile artillery really came in handy in the war. It was the second most important weapon after the Monado. It's easy to control and highly manoeuvrable. Not to mention the firepower. Although we've only got the one. It was brought in from outside the colony; we don't make them here. So we're just doing our best to keep this one in working order."

Bionis

"You don't know why the Bionis is shaped like a person? Didn't you ever listen at school? The Bionis isn't shaped like us. We're shaped like the Bionis!" "Scientists are saying the weirdest things nowadays though. Apparently the laws of physics say that the world should be round. But if the Bionis was round, then people would be round as well. I don't want to be round. I think the Bionis would agree with me!"

"As we are born of the Bionis, we should all be returned to its body. We place the dead in water, so it may carry them back to the Bionis. But a lot of people who died in the last attack left no bodies behind... What will happen to them?"

Ether

"You see the little bits of light in the sky? Those are bits of ether. They're little energy particles released from the Bionis' body. There's ether everywhere. Everything's made with ether."

"Did you know that our bodies are made from ether? Not just our bodies, actually. That chair over there, too! And erm...rocks, I guess...? Anyway, lots of things! Everything in the world is made from ether. It's like...the base element! Of everything!" "There's even research that proves the Bionis is made of ether! But the ether deposits kind of prove that anyway, don't they? They're just hard lumps of ether shot out from inside the Bionis."

"Has friend seen ether crystal deposits on surface? They formed by high pressure and heat inside body of Bionis."

"Ether deposits are like...the crystallised blood of the Bionis. That's why the crystals you harvest from them are so pure."

"World is full of ether crystals. Ether crystal is small clump of ether. Formed when particles of ether are put under pressure. Particles of same colour and shape naturally fuse together." "Look at ether crystal's colour to see its properties. Red is fire and blue is water. Like that! If friends want to make gems out of them, talk to guy over there!"

"Ether Cylinders from the furnace fuel everyone's light and heating. They're also what powers the Defence Force's machines. But they're not usually pure enough for the latest weapons. That's why we need the stockpile of cylinders at the ancient ruins. All the cylinders there are of a very high purity, you see."

"Did you know that ether particles can cause a chain reaction? It happens when the same type of ether gathers in a large quantity. The heat it generates is intense! The ether stream under Colony 6 is a prime example of all this." "Ether is a plentiful energy source provided for us by the Bionis. Just plain ether is enough to power almost all of our machines. But some machines need very pure ether. Like the Anti-Air Batteries."

"All our weapons contain a catalyst that reacts with ether. So you just need to use your Arts to gain the benefit of that power. But I suppose there are some people who don't need that stuff."

"I heard that there're ether gears inside the Mechonis. You can use ether crystals from the Bionis or ether gears. When you're gem crafting, it don't matter which ones you put in."

Gameplay

"What? There are weapons and armour with holes in them?! Maybe holes are to put gems in! That make them stronger!" "There is also equipment that comes with gems stuck in holes. In Nopon homeland we call them unique equipment."

"If you help someone who's been Dazed, your affinity will deepen. That's how me and my boyfriend got together!"

"I've heard there are monsters who can Daze your entire party! That's why I sometimes wear gems that protect against Daze." "But not all the time. Sometimes it's nice to be Dazed in battle. Otherwise you don't get the affinity boost from being rescued!"

"Certain monsters can Poison you. I've been looking for some kind of medicine that can cure it, but... It seems like there isn't one." "I did hear that the ether rifles the soldiers use can cure Poison. They use anti-Poison bullets. If only I had any friends in the Defence Force."

"The skills you can learn depend on your character traits. Like, Reyn can learn Skills that help him be a hard-headed idiot! Did I just say that?"

"Do you think people have hidden depths to them? Like, extra character traits we don't know about up front? If so, I bet there are Skills related to those as well!" "How can you find out what hidden character traits people have? Good question. Maybe they're revealed when you help people?"

LOL

"Why Mechon attack colony? Colony do nothing wrong!" "Oh no! Might be because I steal and eat neighbour's fruit. I never do again!"

"Oh, fiddlesticks. I was really hoping I could ask Shulk for a favour. Why is he never around?" "He must be avoiding me because I keep asking for favours..."

"I shouted, 'Curse you, foul creation!' Then I swung my hammer as hard as I possibly could. What? It's the only way I could get my fridge to start working again!"

"I wonder what Talent Art a hero like Dunban would have. I bet it'd be really manly, graceful, powerful... Yeah..."

Tephra Cave

"I see. It's the Path of Absolution... The path walked when offering a sacrifice to the White Spiders. It is lined by the memorial tablets of those offered up as sacrifices. It's all written in this book."

"The offering we need to make is a White Spider Heart. Now, as you already know, there are many spiders in Tephra Cave. When these ruins were built, the Giants and spiders were enemies. Among both groups, the heart of the White Spider was revered. That's why we need to use the heart as an offering."

[doctorlaelia-ffxiv]

.|take no prisoners

The Garleans had spared no expense in destroying the village.

Wooden beams had fallen and toppled houses. Ash covered every inch of land, with people wailing in the streets over their dead loved ones. A woman cradled a small child in her arms and howled her grief, her fingers curled into the little boy’s shirt with his eyes wide and unseeing. His face was gray with soot, blood streaking his cheeks. 

Laelia’s breath had stopped up in her throat as she took in the razing before her, some of it still burning and smoking. Her bag full of medical supplies felt slack in her hand before someone touched her back, urging her forward. It was the woman to whom the Decurio had laid claim, hardly more than glorified slave that he kept with him in the camp. She was beautiful but well old enough to be a mother, with eyes gray like the sky after it rained and hip-length hair that flowed like water over her shoulders. 

“Medicus,” she had whispered as she entered Laelia’s chambers, gently touching the woman’s arm and startling her awake.

“Mi Kyong,” Laelia mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The woman was weeping, her small and calloused hands trembling as she grasped at the medicus’s blanket. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“Forgive me,” the woman wept, bowing her head. “I would not wake you if I did not know... that you help my people. Please. Decurio Silanus has acted without orders. I heard him talking about it-- a sudden attack on a village nearby--” 

Mi Kyong’s voice cracked as delicately as a harp string when she mentioned the village. Laelia was fully awake at that point, glancing towards her door to make sure no one was pacing by it before gently taking the Doman woman’s hands in hers and leaning down to make eye contact. She was nearly old enough to be Laelia’s own mother, with kind and haunted eyes. 

“There are no doctors there,” Mi Kyong whispered.

“How do you know? They have no medical aid?”

“Medicus... it is my village. I was the doctor, before they took me away and to this place. Please... They need help. I am sorry. I am so sorry to ask this of you. But I know that you are kind. I know you see the senselessness in all of this. Please. Please, help my people.” 

“Will the Decurio notice that you’re away?” Laelia was speaking quickly, quietly, tossing her blankets off as she stood to dress herself in something that she could move easily and silently in. “How large is the village?”

“Not very. There are a hundred people there, at most. I... Will he notice that I’m away?” 

“Mi Kyong - doctor - if there is an emergency, then I need all hands on deck. Can you come with me?” 

There was a flicker in the Doman woman’s stormy eyes as she looked up at the pale-haired medicus. How long had it been since anyone had called that woman doctor? She had the eyes of one, the hands of one. When Laelia spoke to her, asked her to help, it seemed as if she’d burst into tears again. Slowly, though, the Doman took a deep breath and nodded her head slowly.

“We will have a few hours before he notices. He’s celebrating his... victory. I don’t think he’s going back to the village. He said something... He’s sure that they’re all dead, or that they will be by dawn, at least. It’s not far, even by foot. Can you smell the smoke?”

Laelia paused, glancing towards the window she’d kept closed. It was a cold Doman winter, and she needed all the heat she could get in the drafty building they’d given her and her team to work and live out of. As they spoke, she was pulling on a thick coat and looking for a spare. She knew the Decurio preferred to keep the woman thinly dressed, though often she was kept in a warm tent as it was with furs to lay in. Her old coat - one she had worn all through medical school - was the one she unearthed, tossing it to the doctor. 

“You can borrow some of my clothes if it’s easier. Grab a pair of boots. We have work to do, Doctor.” 

Laelia forced her feet to move, starting in a jog and building up to a sprint as she assessed the village as quickly as possible. Mi Kyong wasn’t far behind. Both of the women’s ears were filled with the sound of anguished wailing and the sound of wood cracking and crumbling to the ground. A scream came from one of the buildings still burning, and Laelia inhaled sharply, whipping around to see what had happened.

A mother and father stood outside of the small shack, shouting, as a large piece of wood fell onto a little girl nearly completely covered in ash from head to toe. Laelia’s hand clamped over her mouth, and she was about to start sprinting to the building when the sound of galloping hooves entered the fray. Mi Kyong grabbed Laelia’s arm, yanking her back to avoid being trampled by the group of a dozen horses entering the fray.

“Attend to the injured!” shouted a man atop the horse leading the charge. He was donned in Garlean armor. Laelia recognized him; A Decurio, though not the one who had captured Mi Kyong. He was one of Doman descent who had been conscripted into the military almost as soon as Garlemald took control of Doma. “We’ll go and gather the survivors.”

“Decurio...” Mi Kyong said weakly.

“Hurry!” the man said loudly, over the roar of panic and fire. The doctors needed no further urging. From the back of four of the horses came a couple more medics and nurses, and they flanked the doctors as the women took off.

It was a grueling night of hard, bloody work. People had lost limbs, been burned to the point of being disfigured on their arms and legs and cheeks by the flames. Some of them had been beaten for daring trying to fight back against the Garlean invaders. Laelia was sweating bullets as she worked in the hot village. The fire seemed to have no end; no building was left standing after the first three hours of being set aflame.

It was hard to ignore how good a doctor Mi Kyong was, even in the chaos. She was as quick and as efficient as Laelia, if not moreso. Garlemald would have done better conscripting her to a medicus position rather than a pretty thing to keep the Decurio company. When she pulled up her hair, Laelia noted a small tattoo of the Garlean flag behind her ear, along with a number beneath it that looked like it had been branded onto her, like cattle. It made the young Garlean’s heart ache to see it, made her feel sick to her stomach. To what end did her people do this? Power? Control? Cleansing the world of false gods? Surely they needn’t go so far. Surely they needn’t have hurt these innocent people, stolen everything from them... just because they could.

“Why are you helping us?” one man groaned as Laelia leaned over him, looking at his bruised and bleeding lips. Makeshift IV stands were everywhere, made out of sticks and wooden poles.

“Because this is senseless,” Laelia had replied quietly as she worked on stitching up his arm where he gotten a nasty gash from falling architecture and applying medicine to the burns on his hands, wrapping them tightly and quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything my people have done to you.”

“You’d be better to just let us die,” the man said, steely eyes glaring up at Laelia. “They’ll take our children, our wives-- all of us. They’ll kill us or they’ll force us to fight for them. You’re sentencing us to hell.”

Laelia was silent, staring down at the wound she was stitching. He was right, wasn’t he? Was death a preferable fate to the one the Garleans would deliver to them come dawn? For a moment, her hands started to tremble. What else could she do? What was she supposed to do? Would it be better to ask the sudden influx of legionaries to just slaughter these people, free them from fighting against their own people and subjugating them, too? Pale eyes lifted to the conscripted Doman helping his men rescue people from the rubble, shouting orders and carrying children over to the small area they were using to attend to the wounded. Some of the people were already dead and passed on when they were rescued, wide eyed and covered in ash, coating their hair and tear-stained cheeks as they stared up what would have been a starry sky were it not for all the smoke polluting the view.

“The kami will protect us.”

A weak voice came from beside them, to a woman who was laying on a hand-woven blanket. Mi Kyong had already attended to her; her worst problem seemed to have been with smoke inhalation, and she was pale, but she wasn’t coughing anymore. She turned her head to look at Laelia and the man, smiling in what seemed like a delirious kind of daze.

“They’ve not protected us for a long time,” the man spat, venom dripping with every vowel.  “What makes you think that will change now?”

“There are ways to escape,” Laelia said, her voice soft. “To get you out of here. Kugane, or somewhere in Hingashi... Even Eorzea...”

“Do you think you can move a village of a hundred people without your bosses noticing, girl? I thought Garleans were supposed to be bright. And loyal. What good are you to the Garleans if you can’t even be loyal to them? You’re going to go back and stitch up their soldiers come morning so they can continue this war you called senseless!” the man barked, and suddenly Laelia felt so small. She had never felt so small while a patient was under her care; tiny, and ashamed, and unable to tell him that he was wrong.

“You’re nothing more than a coward and a lapdog,” he added with a sneer. “My son is dead! My son died because one of your Decurios got the idea to come and burn a village who has always given them so much of our own supplies that some weeks, we’d be starving, because we were missing a little this week. Are you proud to serve these people?”

“No,” Laelia said suddenly, meeting the man’s eyes. “No. I’m not. But there is much for me to lose from running from them, sir. They could kill me. They could kill my family.”

“I hope they do. I hope you know the sting of it all-- the sting of losing your freedom and your loved ones. But you never will. Look at you, the picture of Garlean heritage. You will never know the pain we have known, little girl.”

“That’s enough.” Mi Kyong’s voice rang out just as Laelia’s lips were parting in shock at the man’s words, and he turned his head to look at the older woman, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Doctor...”

“Medicus Caelius came here with no hesitation when I told her what had happened, at great risk to herself. I begged her to come and save my people and she did with no questions asked but how to find you all. You’re wrong, Kaito. She has everything to lose if her people find out that she helps the enemy-- the savages of the Far East.”

The chaos had slowed some, with most everyone tended to. Another medicus was taking a list of the dead with a nurse as his assistant while the legionaries were writing down the names of those who had been affected and attacked. The Decurio’s brow was furrowed as he looked over the village, hand on the hilt of his sword and the fabric hanging over the front of his armor flapping in the winter breeze. How had he known to come?

The man who Laelia had been attended to was silenced at Mi Kyong’s words, clearly more affected by hers than that of a Garlean’s. The Doman woman followed Laelia’s gaze to the Decurio clearly deep in thought.

“I told him, too. We aren’t of the same village, but his was a neighboring one. Garlemald took it and all of the hale and healthy people from it as conscripts when they first invaded. He told me he knew of Decurio Silanus’ plan... I suppose it wasn’t spur of the moment. He and his men have been trying to figure out a way to evacuate this village. There’s no time to waste now, either,” she added in a murmur, glancing up at Laelia before looking back down at the woman she was working on disinfecting the burns of. 

“Is he one of the rebel fighters?” Laelia asked quietly, and Mi Kyong smiled a little at her before nodding her head once.

“We have them, in Garlemald’s own infantry. We need people with inside information, people who are close to the higher-ups, if Doma is to ever be liberated. Brawn alone won’t win the battle.” There was a pause, Mi Kyong seeming to be weighing her own words. “You could help us, Laelia. You’ve the ear and trust of many of the high-ranking men and women in the Garlean military. They might even listen to you, if you speak up.” 

“They might,” she echoed, weakly. “They just might.”

Laelia’s whole body felt heavy when she and Mi Kyong finally returned to the military camp, just before dawn broke. Mi Kyong bathed quickly in Laelia’s quarters to rid herself of the smoke and ash clinging to her hair and skin before returning to the tent to wait for Decurio Silanus. The Doman Decurio had stayed back with his men. They had plans of moving the Doman village to Kugane over the next few days with the help of rebel fighters. 

“Garlemald will be taking no prisoners, here,” the Decurio had said, smiling as he patted the head of the little girl whom he’d rescued from the burning home. “We’ll get you all to safety. You have my word.”

She knew she’d done the right thing. Even still, the words of her patient echoed in her head on repeat. 

Coward. Coward. Coward. Lapdog. You will never known the pain we have known. Coward!

“Coward,” she whispered to herself as she sunk into bed. She couldn’t even agree to Mi Kyong’s proposition of helping the rebels. She was afraid of what would become of her, too afraid to really do innocent people any good other than forcing them to live another day under the thumb of her people. Tears clung to her eyelashes as she closed her eyes, and they rolled down her cheeks onto her thick comforter that she’d pulled up to her chin. 

Garlemald could be better. It didn’t have to be like this. Reform was possible. The slaughter and subjugation didn’t need to continue. But would it? Was hoping in reform and doing nothing in the process enough? She didn’t think it was. There would come a time where she would have start raising her voice in protest, but she had always been so soft-spoken, even meek. 

As she struggled to fall asleep and only dropped off due to exhaustion and grief over the people that had been lost in the razing of the village, she wondered if she would ever be able to take the stand for what she knew was right. 

[darkfromday]

Arc V Anniversary, Day 17

Day 17 Prompt: family

In a world where Leo’s plot destroyed all of the counterparts but Ray, the oldest Akaba child re-evaluates what family means.

It’s much longer than I expected so of course it’s under a cut.

What a beautiful city, Ray thought.

Maiami was a jewel to her: rare, coveted, all the more beautiful because no city like it had ever existed before. The people were charming, the landscape was enchanting, and the duels were electrifying. There were so many good things to eat and exciting places to explore. Even watching the sun creep slowly down out of the sky this late afternoon buoyed her spirits. She had yet to find anything that dampened her mood.

“—There you are, Ray.”

…Almost nothing.

Despite her flash of irritation, Ray lifted her head from her hands, looking up to see her father’s smiling face. Akaba Leo rarely went anywhere without sporting some kind of coat or cape, but the unusually-warm springtime meant he now joined her wearing only his single-layered white shirt and pale slacks. Since the war’s end he had seemed lighter. Perhaps because he out of everyone else had gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Were you looking for me?” she asked, putting enough inflection in her words so the why were you went unsaid but not unnoticed.

“Of course. Nakajima informed me of your departure two hours ago. I thought perhaps you skipped dinner because you weren’t hungry, and yet…”

He gestured to her lap and the picnic supplies lying there: basket, blanket, drinks. All just as perfectly prepared as the sibling who’d made it for her.

Ray shrugged. “I already have other plans with Reiji and Reira.”

“Ah…”

She hummed, offering nothing else, lost in silent worry. Her phone hadn’t buzzed yet. Reiji was going to text when he and Reira were on their way from the office.

Ray’s siblings were another thing she adored about the new world, and about Standard in particular. Though both of them were understandably reserved around her, she loved everything about them. Reiji’s quiet demeanor and rigid determination, his devotion, his intense interest in mastering every interaction he had, whether professional or personal. Reira’s trusting smile, impeccable manners and blossoming temper, a sure sign of a fiercer personality than their last. Ray connected to each of them through duels, drawing out their conversation and their comfort by beating them soundly at Fusion, Synchro and Xyz.

This evening’s picnic was another chance for Ray to spend time with them, drag Reiji away from his responsibilities at LDS and Reira away from their playdate… she just hadn’t expected to be followed out here.

When Leo finally sat next to her on the hill he asked, “Have you been avoiding me?”

He sounded hurt. And of course he would be—the one person he’d pushed an entire set of worlds away for, and she couldn’t stand to be around him for more than thirty seconds.

On top of that, he had raised her to be unflinchingly honest, and she was her father’s daughter.

“Yes, I have.”

He grimaced. “If you’re having problems adjusting—”

Ray lifted her hand, cut him off. “Nothing’s wrong with the world I made or my experiences in it. Maiami is charming; Heartland is comforting; Synchro’s City is electrifying. Even the town around Academia’s island is interesting enough. I’ve enjoyed exploring them all, but now I want to get to know my family.”

“But not all of your family.”

Ray’s eyes darkened; a familiar burst of anger licked at her insides, and she crushed the top of the picnic basket in one fisted hand.

“No, not all,” she agreed coldly. “It’s safer for me to remember you as you were before, in our world, because now you are a disappointment.”

“A disappointment!” Leo reared back, but rebounded quickly; the Akaba temper had flared in him too. “Ray, I am your father.”

“In name only! Your deeds since I split Zarc don’t match the father I knew. How can you look people in the eye knowing you sealed them away, or sealed their friends, or their families? How could you betray the people who cared for you?”

“Easily,” Leo snapped, “and I would do so again. For in case you’ve forgotten, I started the ARC-Area Project to save your life.”

Silence reigned a few moments after those words. The two of them glared at each other, raising the temperature around them, but Ray could not be cowed—in the end, it was her father who looked away first.

“My life was already forfeit,” she whispered. “I took the En Cards and went to destroy Zarc of my own free will. It was my choice. I knew I would rather give my own life than live in a world without the father I loved—but you… were so selfish that you made my nightmare a reality.”

The once-mighty Professor flinched as though struck; when she focused her glare, he had tears in his eyes. “How can you say that when I’m still here?”

“Because I don’t know this Akaba Leo,” Ray said bitterly. “This Professor in my father’s skin. The person who trained children to hunt other children, invaded the other worlds I made and separated to subjugate, the man who abandoned his own wife and son to bring back a daughter who no longer existed—snuffing out nine lives in the process… no, he’s not familiar to me.”

Leo shook his head, looking out at the sunset—even now, not daring to look at her. “I would wipe out more if it had meant your safe return, Ray—more. Akabas know how to sacrifice; it is in our blood, and it is how I knew that Himika and Reiji would carry on without me. It’s how I knew too that your sacrifice was too great, and one I would not allow you to pay.”

“I’m an adult. You don’t get to decide anymore what prices I pay, what decisions I make. Instead, you need to focus on what you can change, what sacrifices you aren’t willing to make.”

“…Explain.”

“Father…” She massaged her temple, wearing down her frustration enough to go on. “You aren’t a stupid man. You must have noticed how hurt Himika-san and Reiji were by your leaving them—worse because of what you left them for. Why do you think no one speaks at dinner, even after two years? Why do you think Himika-san sends you messages every time you’re gone on business for more than a day—or Reiji and Reira speak as little to you as they can manage?”

He looked like he would argue at first, but a moment later he bowed his head, acknowledging the validity of her words.

“Then you must know too that I’m lucky they don’t hate me for becoming your sole priority… before and after the war.”

“Ray, what happened in Union was not your fault,” Leo said softly.

“No, it was,” she insisted, fiercely stubborn. “What came after was all my doing. I shouldn’t have trusted you to move on—I should have wiped your memories completely, so you could have been a real father to Reiji and Reira these past five years, a real husband who wouldn’t make Himika-san cry, a man who would have looked at the broken pieces of me and Zarc and felt nothing.”

A few of her tears hit the basket. Her father was not the only one crying helplessly now. Sadly, this was what their relationship amounted to now for Ray—finger-pointing, bitterness, regrets. The moment her sacrifice had been invalidated, her confusion and horror had morphed into these feelings, and showed no signs of further evolution.

Leo broke their second shared silence.

“Daughter, you know I am a selfish man. No world has yet been made in which I would give up on you. But… whatever my previous words may have indicated, that does not mean I hold no regrets over the way I left things with my wife… or my son… or the child that also came to share my name. But between the two camps, I have had years with them, and lost years with you. Can you blame me for choosing to not waste any more time with you?”

“Yes, I can!” Ray cried; he was missing the point again. “Because they’re your family too. Everything doesn’t have to be a choice between two sides! I won’t allow Reiji and Reira to lose in your heart because of me, even if you will.”

“So then, you expect me to leave you here now, and ignore your presence hereafter?”

“I expect you to go home to your wife,” Ray growled. “Truly apologize to her for what you put her through. I expect you to challenge Reira to a friendly duel to get them out of their shell around you. I expect you to take the reins back at LDS so Reiji can enjoy what’s left of his childhood, and spend some time with him outside of the office! Those are just a few things you could do to convince me that my real father is somewhere in you.

“But for now—yes, I do expect you to leave me alone here to wait for my evening picnic with the other members of my family.”

Leo looked at Ray for another long, long moment, but before he could voice his thoughts once more, a honk jolted them out of their heated conversation: a sleek limo had just pulled up to the bottom of the hill.

The door opened and Akaba Reiji emerged one leg at a time—slim, polished, and much too careful for a young man his age. Much too somber too, Ray thought, feeling fondness and sympathy war within her before she noticed he was holding someone in his arms.

Then she beamed—it was Reira, waving delightedly up at her, looking so excited for the picnic they’d planned together.

“Ray! We’re here!”

“Up here!” she called; already her voice and heart felt lighter. Though she’d long since accepted her own original sacrifice, being alive again to meet her siblings and grow with them was nothing to scoff at, no matter how much she disapproved of her father’s methods.

In moments Reiji was up the hill and kneeling at her side to put Reira down. He bowed his head, the spitting image of the father he hadn’t yet noticed. “Apologies for the lack of notice. My phone died en route.”

“That’s all right. We were just…” Arguing. “…talking.”

That got Reiji to notice his father, and offer him a perfunctory greeting while Reira hid in Ray’s shirt. Likewise, Leo’s “hello” was stilted and hesitant, but at least seemed more authentic than the distant effort he gave at home.

Reiji cut straight to the chase after that: “Are you going to be joining us?”

“I… will not,” Leo replied, stunning Ray. “Another appointment calls.”

When she followed his pale gaze, she saw that the limo driver had rolled down their window down to be seen. Akaba Himika gazed back at her husband, unflinching, unyielding, drastically different from the mother of Ray’s birth yet a fitting match for the man who oscillated between Professor, provider and parent.

Despite their open disagreement not a few moments before, Leo took a minute to kiss Ray’s brow, wishing her and the rest of his children farewell before starting down the hill and sliding smoothly into the passenger’s side of the limo. Ray exhaled—she was not foolish enough to think their discussion was over, but her father’s willingness to mend at least one fence made her feel less like she’d been sparring—and living—with a stranger.

“Are you all right, Ray?” Reiji inquired. He sat right at her free side, a comfortable distance away, and ruffled Reira’s hair.

“I’ll be fine…” She smiled at him; she’d long since learned it was an expression he seldom had directed his way, and sought to fix that. “Thank you, Reiji.”

Reira emerged from her shirt and tugged at the nearest sleeve, gesturing to where the picnic basket handle nearby was still slightly smushed. “Ray, you didn’t eat without us, did you?”

“Of course not!”

Reiji smirked. Reira looked thrilled as they popped the basket open and dug in. As sandwiches disappeared into their mouth, they hardly noticed Ray and Reiji start to talk about their days, about the state of the duel circuit this year, and about the best places to go for some peace and quiet in the city that weren’t traceable by parents or bodyguards.

Ray preferred things this way, though. With her siblings around to share their city with her, with her family close by to help her sort out her chaotic feelings about the war and its fallout, Maiami was even more of a precious place than it would have been alone. Union was gone, and so many other good people from there and here were gone with it—but with some time, perhaps that would hurt less.

Maybe someday soon, she thought, I can eat a cookie with the same enthusiasm as Reira, or run a board meeting with Reiji. Try on suits with Himika-san and… have a civil conversation with my father. Maybe I can visit the places the war touched without crying. Visit the people who lost loved ones and offer them closure.

Yes. Maybe someday, when all can be forgiven, when we can sit down and eat together, we could be the type of family I was trying to save.

[the-b00k-wyrm]

The Demon

    An older man approaches two young men with quivers on their backs and a map spread before them. The map was of a forest nearby known as the Nui Forest, a place said to have bountiful game, said to be a hunter's paradise. The older man sat across from the young hunters, who looked up in confusion at the stranger. "Can we help you?", one of them asked the older man, who was absent-mindedly stroking five long scars that run diagonally down his face. "No," he said after a brief moment, "But I strongly recommend yah find yahself somewhere new tah hunt if yah value yah lives." The young men were both taken aback by the boldness of the statement, and the stench of alcohol that came with it. "What are you saying you drunk fool?", one of the hunters asked, a hint of anger creeping into his voice, the older man just looked at him before chuckling, "Aye, I may be a drunk, but fool, that I ain't. Over the past ten years I've warned hundreds of yah young morons about the dangers in that forest, but yah just ignore me, playing me off as some crazy drunk. Well tell me youngin if I'm so crazy, why do yah think no one goes in there anymore", the hunters stammered, but didn't get a chance to reply before the man continued "It's because there's a demon in there, and I was there when it was created. Me and my partner went on our annual hunting trip to celebrate our marriage, we knew of the druid who lived in the Nui Forest, but he had never attacked any hunters or caused any friction with anyone. Me and my husband were tracking a group of deer across the forest when we spotted a massive buck,antlers that seemed to spear the sky, muscle rippling under it's pristine hide, it was a perfect beast. My husband was always a good shot, and an eager one. He quickly nocked an arrow and drew it back to his cheek, with a sharp exhale he let loose the arrow and it flew into the bucks side, right into behind the front leg. As the arrow slide right into the beasts heart and it let out a dying bellow, I heard a sound I will never forget, 'NOOOOOOOOOO' a voice came from somewhere in the surrounding forest, without so much as a glance back at the now dead buck me and my husband ran. Yah see, we forgot one important thing, there was a druid who lived in the forest, and although he was gentle and never before hurt any hunter (somethin bout balance and nature or somethin), he often traveled around with a young fawn which was strictly off limits for hunters. Well I guess the fawn finally grew up because as we were running the crys of anguish slowly morphed into the guttural cries of a beast, which were then followed by something big crashing through the forest behind us. We ran and ran, but the noise only seemed to get louder. Suddenly a bunch of roots shot up from the ground in front of us blocking our escape. As we turned to run in a different direction more and more roots shot up, completely sealing us off. We immediately started trying to climb up when the crashing stopped, we turned around just in time to watch a young man walk out of a tree. He was a stunning lad,he looked like an angel, not too tall but not too short but perfectly balanced, face like somethin out of a painting, eyes bluer than a clear summer sky, hair that looked like it was spun from pure gold, he was dressed in simple cloth that somehow made him even more beautiful. He had tattoos all up 'is arms in a language I can only assume to be that druidic language they all speak. 'You killed him. He was my friend and you killed him. He had done nothing to you and you KILLED HIM.' With each line his voice, which sounded like a chorus of angels, rose until he was screaming at us. 'We're sorry,' I began, my voice cracking in fear 'we didn' know he was your friend, it was a mistake' and with those words I sealed our fate. 'A MISTAKE?!' He roared ' A MISTAKE WAS LETTING YOU FILTHY HUNTERS DO AS YOU PLEASE! A MISTAKE WAS THINKING IT WAS NATURAL TO KILL FOR SPORT! WHAT YOU DID WAS NOT A MISTAKE IT WAS MURDER!' his tattoos lit up like a fire in the night, and his shape slowly began to enlarge, hair sprouted from his body, fangs grew in his mouth, claws grew from his fingers, before our very eyes he had transformed into a fully grown grizzly bear. My dear, brave husband tried to shoot him down as he charged us but it was too little too late. The druid was upon us, he sent me flying with a simple swipe of his paw, raking his claws across my face as he did so, and he bit into my husband, again and again. As I watched on in fear, I realized, he was eating my husband. I watched, unable... or maybe unwilling to move. After what felt like an eternity the druid turned to face me, I closed my eyes, but the finishing blow never came, 'Go back to that disgusting town' he spoke softly but firmly ' Go back and tell them all what happened here. Go back and tell then should anyone enter this forest again, they shall meet the same fate. Go back and never return.' With that, he turned and disappeared into the forest. As I watched him go, I realised, he wasn't an Angel, he was a demon. I ran back and did as he said, and have been doing so for the past 10 years. At first the town sent a patrol in to subjugate him. They never returned, and neither have any of the young hunters like yerselves, who ignored my warning." As the old man finished his story he gazed off into the distant, absentmindingly rubbing a ring on his left hand. "Abandon yer plans to go into the Nui Forest, for the demon inside takes no prisoners." The young hunters looked at each other before bursting forth with laughter. " A demon? In the forest? You must be drunk you old fool, everyone knows that demons only cause corruption, and the Nui Forest is one of the purest in the world, leave us be we must continue planning out our camps. Maybe we'll give you a hare when we return!" One of the young hunters said through bouts of laughter. The old man simply shook his head, stood up and walked over to a pole that was covered in nicks. He took a knife and proceeded to add two more nicks to the pole. "Oye old man, what's that, the number of people who called you a drunk?" One of the hunters laughed. "No," the old man said coldly "it's the number of people who have died in that cursed forest." The old man walked to a table in the far back of the inn and sat down.     The young hunters had set out early in the morning, hoping to give themselves plenty of time to set up camp and get some hunting in for the day. However it was now starting to get dark and they had nothing to show for their troubles, as they were retiring to their camp, the noticed someone standing in the middle of their camp. As they approached he said, without turning to face them, " Another group of fools, trespassing where they do not belong" the two young hunters looked at each other, fear clearly displayed on their faces, for the voice of the trespasser sounded like a chorus of angels. They turned to run but the roots of the surrounding trees shot up all around them trapping them. They turned around and two eyes as bluer than a clear summer sky approach them. The voice said, "That old fool really needs to be more convincing.", before the screaming began.     One month later a group of hunters were sitting at the inn, a map of the nearby Nui Forest spread before them. An old man approached them.

[jaycatubigan2001-blog]

A REAL DOLL by A.M. HOMES

Summary of "A Real Doll"

A.M. Homes is the writer to turn to when you want someone to lift the floorboards of everyday life and show you the roaches scurrying underneath.

‘A Real Doll’ is the story of a teenage boy’s erotic obsession with his younger sister’s Barbie doll. Published in 1990, it is the final short story in The Safety of Objects. After the publication of her novel Jack, it was this collection that cemented Homes’ reputation. She became known as a writer who was not afraid to document the twisted things we sometimes glimpse in the mirror. The collection shows that the banal objects with which we surround ourselves are sometimes very far from safe and can instead lead us down dark paths.

The story starts on a gentle note with the boy declaring that he’s dating Barbie three afternoons a week while his sister Jennifer is at dance class. He chats amiably about how he brings Barbie out on their first date to the back-yard. There, he discovers that she’s a Tropical Barbie and that she squeaks when she talks. Captivated, he describes her eyes as ‘sparkling blue like the ocean on a good day’; she has ‘an entire galaxy, clouds, stars, a sun, the sea’ painted on her face.

It is only when he goes inside to fetch Barbie a Diet Coke that we realize we have been deceived and that Homes has lulled us into a false sense of complacency. The boy takes a couple of Valium from the bathroom medicine cabinet, breaks one into the Coke and swallows one himself; we are presented with a teenager self-medicating with prescription drugs and feeding them to his ‘date’ to eradicate inhibitions. This is a far cry from the seemingly innocent, romantic role-play that opens the story.

His reasoning behind the medication is simple, ‘I figured if I could be calm and collected, she’d realize I wasn’t going to hurt her’. He repeats this justification a little later, ‘I figured if we could be calm and collected together, she’d be able to trust me even sooner’. However, he also admits that he is ‘falling in love in a way that had nothing to do with love’. He may be young, but he is self-aware enough to know that what he’s feeling for Barbie is not love. He wants something else entirely from her and what he wants will require trust, or at least the illusion of it. There is a world of difference between the base urges of lust and the romantic notion of love – and with this one sentence he reveals that his intentions have no basis in the latter.

After this point (i.e. after he has fallen ‘in love’) the relationship between the boy and Barbie becomes an exploration of the power he exerts over her. At the end of their first date together, he puts her head into his mouth, like a ‘lion and tamer, God and Godzilla’. Comparing himself to these figures, he is associating with representations of ultimate power. The tamer subjugates nature’s monarch; the lion, God, and Godzilla exert their supremacy through slaughter, creation, and annihilation. The lion and tamer relationship is inverted here as the tamer often puts his head inside the mouth of the lion to demonstrate complete control. In this scenario, Barbie should be the tamer, yet it is the boy (here, he is the lion) who forces her head into his mouth.

There is an animalistic quality to their relationship, a coalescence of pleasure and pain. The boy bites her neck, licks her face, and sucks her feet, until eventually he progresses to masturbating with her in his bedroom. He thinks about how he is ‘forever crossing a line’ between ‘good guys and bad, between men and animals’. When he climaxes, he describes it as the ‘most horrifying experience’ he has ever had. He can’t even look at Barbie afterwards, even though she begs him not to stop. However, in a moment of clarity, he admits that ‘maybe I just think she said that because I read it somewhere. I don’t know anymore’. The fantasy world is starting to crack and shame is creeping in.

When he goes to the toy-store to buy Barbie a present, he is surrounded by rows upon rows of Barbie doll replicas. He imagines himself becoming a slave to Barbie, having to sexually service each doll before discarding it onto a growing pile in the corner of his room. In response to this overwhelming image, he feels faint. We get a sense that the boy is starting to realize he’s losing control of his own fantasy.

One day, he sees that his sister has swapped Ken and Barbie’s heads. He accidentally knocks Barbie’s head to the floor when picking up the doll and sees that his sister has used red pins as earrings for Barbie. The pins go right through her head. When he tries to explain this to Barbie, (who thinks she is supposed to get used to the resulting headaches) she can’t understand him. He admits that he is ‘starting to hate her’. However, in contrast, he becomes increasingly aroused by the Ken doll.

After his sexual experience with Ken, he worries about his future life as ‘queerbait’. However, soon afterwards, he decides that he wants to play with Ken and that he might take him out instead of Barbie. They could play ball together; ‘it was a boy thing, we were boys together’. He then smashes Barbie’s head ‘back on her own damn neck’. He has started to turn away from the object of his obsession, seeking male companionship – even if it is in the form of another doll.

In an attempt to win back his affections, Barbie pleads with him to have sex with her and he wonders if Jennifer knows that her toy is a nymphomaniac. While the image of a nymphomaniac Barbie draws a sly grin, there is also the possibility here that Homes is commenting on society’s judgment of sexually forward women. Everything is fine while the boy is the one making advances, but when Barbie attempts to do so, he retreats from her. He responds to her increasingly desperate advances by saying, “You don’t belong with little girls”. For him, Barbie is a sexual object and thus no longer fit for associating with children. This is a neat illustration of Freud’s Madonna-whore complex where women are artificially divided into two categories: saintly mother-carers and debased, prostitute-like personalities.

Eventually giving into Barbie’s demands, he rips her clothes off, but discovers that Jennifer has sliced Barbie’s skin and drawn on her. He asks Barbie why she lets Jennifer do such things to her. She responds by saying simply, “Jennifer owns me”.  In reaction to this, he becomes ‘crazy’ with jealousy, realizing that the relationship between Jennifer and Barbie is ‘one of those relationships that could only exist between women’. Jennifer didn’t ‘want’ Barbie, as she already ‘had her’. This is an unvarnished admission that he sees Barbie as a possession; he wants to control her yet he cannot do so completely because Jennifer remains the prevailing owner. The sexual relationship he has with Barbie is of lesser importance because her ties to Jennifer will always override her ties to him.

This holds true even when Jennifer goes so far as to disfigure Barbie. The things that Jennifer has done to her sicken him, but he cannot do anything to stop the mutilation because Barbie belongs to her. He is powerless to act without openly admitting that Barbie means something to him – and he will never do so.

When he sees Barbie in her final, destroyed state, instead of acting like the amorous lover of earlier, he examines her in detail, ‘like a scientist’, like a ‘medical examiner’. Transformed from the thing of beauty she was when they first met, Barbie is now scarred and hacked apart. ‘She was smiling, and she was burned. She was smiling, and she was ruined.’ She is no longer desirable, and he walks away, ignoring her when she asks in the last line, “Hey, aren’t we going to play?” The object of his lust and obsession is now merely a defaced toy that belongs to someone else.

Homes takes the innocent role-play of childhood and escalates it into a story of lust-fuelled obsession, laced with dark humour. She explores the seamier facets of our sexual urges: the paradoxical connection between pleasure and pain, the conflicting dualism of man’s sexual evaluation of women, and the concept of women as man’s possession. What is so disconcerting, yet intriguing, about this story is that all of the above is done by taking a mass-produced, familiar object like Barbie and showing what can happen once our secret fantasies are let loose.

‘A Real Doll’ should be read to catch a glimpse of what roils beneath the bland, homogeneous surfaces of American suburbia. Read it if you never want to look at a Barbie doll in quite the same way.

Analysis

A real doll is a short story about ayoung boy that was experiencing puberty and doing some sensual that is inappropriate for his age. In the first line" i take barbie away from ken. I'm practicing for the future". The speaker gives us a clear inage about the situation pf the character the young boy in the short story it tells us that it was hard to experience new things that is Physicall, sexually and emotional aspect that was in his age

According to Angela janovsky (2019) "Genre is a broad term refers to any works that share certain characteristics l. A main literary genre is a poetry wherein it is written in lines and stanzas instead of sentences and paragraph "A real doll" written by Amy Michael Homes is a short story, it tells us about the young boy experiencing puberty and doing some sensual that was inappropriate to his age.

As cited by Andrews Motion (2016). Theme is defined as main ideas or an underlying mean of literary work whcih may be directly or indirectly. The theme in the poem was the urge of pleasure felt by the young boy and how to control his darker side when he was experimenting Barbie as a real girl practicing for his future when dealing with relationships.

As cited in the literarydevice.net (2018) stated that the subject gives the readers a conplete idea of what the work is all about , or about whom is the Author's writing. Understanding how the subject is used is necessary to write a cohesive literary piece. The subject their is the sexual pleasure experience by the young boy a writer gives her readers an insight about on what will happen to their children if there is a lack of guidance in regards to their sexual orientation, physically and also during their puberty. Thus the parents must have a strong guidance so that their children will be on the right track and they are matured enough to yandle the truth regarding their bodies

-J-Lawrence P. Catubigan

[bubonickitten]

So what do you think are anders best traits (other than him worrying about mage rights and him being a compassive healer?) I really love him and I love the way you write about him so I'm just curious.

There’s a lot I love about him :0

I mean, on a personal level, he’s a really relatable character for me, so that’s part of why I like him so much.

But I also like him as a character in general. (I’ll put this post under a cut bc it got long.) 

Him being a compassionate healer and being incredibly passionate about mage rights are huge parts of his character and they’re honestly two of the biggest things that make me like him so much. 

Like, here’s a person who was subject to systemic abuse for most of his life, who knows full well the repercussions of rebelling against the status quo, but does it anyway, because his convictions are just that strong. He knows that the Circle and the Chantry are fundamentally wrong. He’s experienced and witnessed firsthand what happens to people who fight back. Hell, when we meet him Awakening, he’s only just recently been released from a year of solitary confinement for running away - he just got out and as soon as he was able to, he ran again. If he gets caught and sent back to the Circle again, he’s going back into solitary confinement at the very least, and by the time he’s in Kirkwall, he’s also possessed by a spirit, so he’s risking just being killed outright. He’s risking everything by fighting back so openly and actively, but he does it anyway. 

And it’s not just Justice’s presence that makes him so willing to fight. Even when he was running, he was fighting back, because by constantly running away, he was refusing to submit. But in Awakening, Anders did feel like he couldn’t have any impact on the status quo - he believed that things would change eventually, he believed that the way mages are treated is inherently and fundamentally wrong and one day things would be different, but he didn’t think he’d ever see it in his lifetime, and he didn’t believe he of all people could do anything to enact change. Justice helped him realize that he could be an agent of change, but that fire and that strong sense of right and wrong were already there - it just needed to be validated and encouraged, which Justice did for him. 

And I do like that Anders needed support to be able to get to that point, bc I feel like that’s... realistic, y’know? I don’t like the idea that everyone should have to fend for themselves and not have to rely on others to stand up and fight. He couldn’t do it alone, and there’s nothing wrong with that. He hasn’t gotten much support from others throughout his life, so I like that in this instance, he had someone to lean on. (And I still wish there were more opportunities to support him more actively in DA2.)  

Like, it was difficult for Anders to admit to those feelings of powerlessness - which is entirely understandable, because in his experience, showing that kind of vulnerability could get him killed or worse (if the templars considered a mage to be weak-willed, they might not even give them a chance at the Harrowing and just make them Tranquil outright - and Anders is canonically mentally ill, which I imagine added an extra burden in terms of hiding his vulnerability). So, outwardly, he talked a big talk about only being concerned with his own freedom and pretends to be more apathetic and careless than he actually is. 

This also shows a lot in terms of his sense of humor - it’s a lot of morbid sarcasm, irreverent joking, gallows humor even - because he uses it as a shield and a coping mechanism. Ngl, I love that aspect of him, it’s one of the things that started endearing him to me in Awakening first. I play my Hawke as having a similar sense of irreverent, snarky humor, so they play well off of one another. Humor as a coping mechanism is a character trait I tend to appreciate and relate to a lot, haha. 

Anyway, I think in actuality he cares so much it hurts. It might not seem like it when we first meet him in Awakening, but I think it’s just that it’s easier and psychologically safer for him to pretend he doesn’t care than it is to admit that he does care but feels powerless to change things. It takes a lot of strength (and also support from others, which again, is something that Anders hasn’t had much of throughout most of his life) to be able to confront your own vulnerability and try to channel it into something that benefits others. 

But even in Awakening, his actions often contradicted the “I don’t care about anyone but myself” talk - if you tell him to run away in the beginning of the game, he’ll do so, but he shows back up like five minutes later because he felt like he couldn’t leave the Warden to fight the darkspawn alone (he jokes about being “bad at the whole ‘fugitive from justice’ thing”, which... turns out to be way more accurate than he may even realize in that moment). In the endgame, he’s not eager to go along with the Warden to Amaranthine, but if you do bring him, he’s one of the companions who will argue against leaving Amaranthine to burn - his instincts might tell him to run, but he cares too much about the survivors in Amaranthine to leave them to their fate. 

Not to mention, canonically, spirit healers are kinda rare. They derive a lot of their power from spirits of compassion, which means earning spirits’ trust and cooperation. A person who isn’t compassionate probably wouldn’t be able to earn that cooperation of a spirit of compassion in the first place. Not to mention his interest in being a healer in general - it’s a big part of his identity, to the point where in DA2, one of the things he worries most about is not being able to heal anymore because he’s so afraid that he or Justice will accidentally hurt one of his patients.

I think a lot of his attachment to the healer role is also tied up in his own internalized belief that he has to be a Good Mage in order to deserve freedom - it seems contradictory, it’s something that goes against his stated principles, mages shouldn’t have to prove themselves and be ‘good’ mages according to the Chantry’s fucked up doctrine to deserve freedom and life and love, but he lived in the Circle for at least half his life and he definitely internalized a lot of the hateful messages they taught about mages. Fighting against those teachings is a constant battle for him - which also ties into his occasional crises of faith, because he’s an Andrastian and all the spiritual authorities in his life have taught him that he’s a non-person, that he’s inherently sinful and cursed and deserving of subjugation because he’s a mage. 

So, he has a lot of moments of self-doubt. He has a lifetime of trauma and abuse that affect his present well-being. He has a lot of self-loathing and a lot of fear of himself (the latter esp after merging with Justice). He doesn’t see himself as worthy of love or care, even if he talks passionately about how mages deserve those things - he often doesn’t give himself the same consideration that he’s willing to give others. He has an incredibly complicated relationship with his own anger - because his anger is totally and completely justifiable, but it scares him, because he associates rage and anger with demons and loss of control. (I think a big source of the conflict btwn he and Justice is how they differ re: embracing and accepting anger. For Justice, that anger is righteous fury, it’s justified, it’s a source of passion and change. For Anders, it’s a source of fear and insecurity a lot of the time. I think a lot of their miscommunication is rooted in that fear.)

But Anders works himself half to death trying to help as many people as he can for as long as he can, and even though he’s barely making a dent in all the suffering he sees in the world, even though he’s risking everything, he just keeps going, because that’s how strongly he believes and that’s how much he cares. Every mage he helps escape the Gallows, every patient he helps in his clinic is worth it to him. That kind of perseverance in the face of hopelessness and doubt and a world set against you is really admirable to me.

And I also like how clear it is that it doesn’t come easy to him. It’s not just some inspiration porn “you can do anything you set your mind to if you just try :)” thing. He stumbles a lot. He fails a lot. He spends most of DA2 in a constant state of anxiety and desperation (esp since he really doesn’t get much support from the people closest to him, except like… Justice and Hawke, if you play Hawke in a supportive role). He’s idealistic, but he can’t help but dip into periods of hopelessness and depression and doubt - partly because he has a mood disorder, partly because that’s just… expected for someone who’s seen as much shit as he has. His life is messy and he’s tired and it shows. But even when he’s running, he’s fighting. Sometimes, survival is in itself a form of rebellion and he’s a walking example of that. He is stubborn and although sometimes it’s a negative, it also has its perks. And that passion doesn’t just manifest as rage - it’s also love, because lbh, he is a hopeless romantic (in a dorky, endearing way at times) and in his romance route he loves Hawke fiercely.  

It’s a shame that he didn’t get more positive character development in DA2 (it’s no secret how resentful I am toward the writers, he and Justice really deserved better). I headcanon him over time learning how to communicate and coexist with Justice; learning to practice self-care and be kinder to himself; more fully accepting that he has a right to be angry and he doesn’t have to prove that he’s deserving of personhood or love.

And he has a fair amount of flaws for sure - he has a tendency to project his insecurities onto others (e.g. Merrill), he’s not a good ally to other marginalized groups (e.g. elves), he sometimes lashes out at others when they don’t deserve it (which, although I understand why he behaves that way, it still isn’t fair to others who are on the receiving end), he was manipulative in the ‘Justice’ quest (I understand his motivations but despite his intentions it wasn’t acceptable behavior) - but I think he has an ability to better himself in those areas and I like to headcanon that personal growth for him. (That’s not to say I want him to be a flawless character - nobody’s perfect, and a flawless character would be pretty flat and unrealistic, but I also like when characters are allowed to have personal growth in a positive direction.)

I guess, in all, he’s an interesting, likable, and relatable character for me - I wish the writers treated him better, I have a lot of criticisms wrt how he (and Justice) were written (including how Anders was treated as a bipolar character), and I’m also willing to criticize him where it’s deserved (I have a whole tag full of meta w/ my criticisms of him) - but overall he’s one of my faves.

 Tbh the reason why DA2 is my fave game in the series (despite all of my criticisms of the writing in it, esp Act 3) is the characters. Hawke is my favorite protag and DA2 has probably my favorite companion group - like, Anders, Merrill, Fenris, Isabela, and Varric are some of my fave characters in the whole series - so the characters are ultimately what make me like that game.