#I’m losing the fight lads. I’ve had these characters for so long

[pendorstorm]

Fighting the urge to post about my old fallout ocs Fighting the urge to post about my old fallout ocs Fighting the urge to post about my old fallout ocs Fighting the urge to post about my old fallout ocs

[crystal-moon-101]

Charmcaster and Mike!💚

I present to you the chaotic magical duo! They were pretty fun to draw with their colours and different body shapes, and these two I've been really wanting to talk about since I've made a lot of rewrite changes for them. Before I get into that, I recommend you read my Dagon Arc Rewrite, to get a better idea of where I've taken these characters, as I involved them quite a bit in that story line. Albedo will be the next redesign eventually, and I'm glad people are liking what I'm doing with these characters so far.

-Mike Morningstar-

Soooo, Mike. He's always been an interesting concept to me, because there are two ways you could make his character go. One way is to just go full out with the creep and power hungry factor, making him a villain through and through, which can provide a very eerie character, which is the route canon mostly too. The other way, which I've taken, is you could make him a very complicated character, tragic even, with the idea of "If someone was born with dark magic, how would the world treat them", and since canon (Both the original series and reboot timeline) as taken the more evil villain approached, I'm taking a much different approach because I think his story can add a lot of interesting dynamics. In terms of his design, I went for the "rich winter" outfit aesthetic, since this lad does know his fashion and tastes.

Mike is an Apotrodite from his mother's side, the dark magic equivalent of Anodites. This means Mike primarily uses dark magic, but unlike other people, his Apotrodite sides means he is in full control of himself, and can't be tainted by dark magic. But that doesn't mean everything goes well...

His parents are Lilith Morningstar and Samael Morningstar, both Plumbers who work in the magical department of things, and since Lilith can use dark magic without it corrupting her, the two get a hefty amount of money working in a field only they can really handle. So they're a very rich family, owning two mansions on earth, and some holiday homes.

Mike was an...accident, not something planned, but his parents wanted to see what it was like, not realizing how raising a child takes a lot of work, especially one that was born half Apotrodite. You see, since Mike was only half, his dark magic didn't come naturally to him for a while, needing to adjust and train himself. There were worries Mike would end up hurting someone, which both Lilith and Samael were nervous about, since Apotrodites didn't have a good reputation anywhere for their use of dark magic. They feared that if Lilith or Mike made a mistake, they'll both be shipped back to their homeworld, which none of them wanted...

Sadly, a mistake did happen one day. Mike didn't mean too, it just happened suddenly, but he ended up hurting two other kids in Plumber Kindergarden, giving one magical burns, and nearly draining the life out of another. He felt horrible over what happened, and couldn't stop sobbing for the rest of the day as everyone debated what to do, and had a long discussion with Mike's parents. Lilith and Samael ended up pulling Mike out from school to homeschool him from now on...and didn't trust Mike to leave the house on his own ever, the fears getting the better of them. So...you could say Mike's childhood was rather lonely and depressing. Eventually as he grew older, he got into lots of arguments with his parents, until finally snapping and running away sometime after his encounter with Ben and his friends. If everyone was going to treat him like a monster, then he might as well be what they say he was and do it being free...

Mike does have an Apotrodite form, much like how Gwen has an Anodite form, but he hardly ever turns into it, even if it would save him energy and make his human form 'rot' less. He doesn't like being reminded of what he is, the reason behind all his problems...

He loves cats, and has always wanted one since he learnt about them.

Mike did end up helping Charmcaster when she was losing herself in omniverse, during the final fight with her. He was one of the few who managed to snap her out of her insanity, and later when she was recovering, she tracked him down with the help of Ben, and managed to convince him to come to Ledgerdomain with her, wanting to repay him for his help. Along with knowing that Mike was really just lonely and tired with the world...something she could relate too...

His hasn't been in contact with his parents since running away from home, and they haven't made an effort to reach out to him, not sure how to approach their son after what he became...

Mike and Hex have a very...awkward dynamic, since neither know how to talk to the other, especially regarding Charmcaster.

Loves scarfs, he just likes the way they look and feel.

-Hope Charmcaster-

Miss Charmcaster, a character who keeps spinning on that plot merry go round. She was defiantly someone who went insane due to how often the writing changed her up, which is a shame since she is a very interesting character, so that's what I'm here for. For her redesign, I've always loved the idea of her being short, plump and very curvy, and entirely confident with her body and looks. She knows she's hot, and owns it. I kept her outfit similar to her original and omniverse style, but played around with the look of it.

Her mother died at childbirth, so her father had to raise her own his own, with the help of Uncle Hex from time to time. Eventually after what happened in Ledgerdomain with Addwaitya, Hex has been looking after her since she was 8, but it wasn't easy, especially when he started tapping into dark magic to find ways to fight Addwaitya, and eventually going power hungry. Charmcaster knows Hex was trying his best, but there are things she can't forgive him for, even if they're getting better during her recovery.

She has black markings on her hands due to her use of the Alpha Rune and dark magic. The Alpha Rune also left a mark on her chest right above her heart. She is subconscious about these things, and tends to hide them from everyone and herself.

Ben 100% had a crush on her as a kid, and she knows it.

Charmcaster has a sweet tooth, and loves desserts. Her favorite is cake, strawberry cake to be precise.

She's still trying to be the Queen of Ledgerdomain, which isn't easy with what's left of it, but she's slowly getting them and creating a new age for the Kingdom, having opened it out to any magic user in the galaxy that needs a place to go.

Gwen and Charmcaster have been building up a nice friendship finally now that Charmcaster is getting help. It's been sweet, with Gwen doing normal teen and girl stuff that Charmcaster hasn't been able to do in years. The little things always remind her that she is human after all.

She is still on the hunt for Addwaitya with the help of Gwen, Hex, Mike and the Plumbers, after the turtle managed to run away during the fight against her.

Later on Mike and Charmcaster do meet other Apotrodites, and visit their homeworld, and does feel bad for their situation. They pair end up letting a good chunk of them move to Ledgerdomain, where it will be safe for them from the outside galaxy, and their contribution of dark magic knowledge really helps Ledgerdomain in the long run.

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 4 (6-16): Reverse batfamily | Hugs | Soulmate

Warnings: Canon typical violence, major injuries, background character death, ✨angst✨

Note: this one ran away from me. It got a mind of its own. If I had more time, this would be so much longer. I've always wanted to write a reverse batfam story with Damian's perspective. Please enjoy.

---

Damian has only spent a month living with his blood father, and he's felt nothing but miserable this entire time. Somehow, life has managed to become even more stressful and exhausting compared to living within the League of Assassins. He... understands why his mother felt he'd be safer here for the time being, but at least, back in Nanda Parbat he knew what he was doing and what the rules were.

He's not sure where he stands with his father. It's obvious that his father doesn't know where he stands with Damian either. Damian, his entire life, had grown up with the knowledge of Bruce Wayne being his father. Batman. Caped Crusader of Gotham. Hero. Bringer of Justice. His mother's dearest, most precious love after Damian himself. She spoke often of him. Highly. Only when alone and no one else to hear them. His father isn't exactly on high standings with his grandfather nor other high ranking members of the League.

Yet, his father knew nothing of him until the day they met. His mother brought him to the streets of Gotham, lured Batman to their location, and introduced them there. His father seemed visibly shocked under that cowl at the information of having a son, yet he didn't question it.

Damian didn't know what to expect after his mother left him for his own safety. He didn't know all too much about culture outside of the League. He was, of course, taught the basics to blend in with American society—as well as other countries—if the need so came, but other than that... He didn't know what to do with himself when he first stepped in the manor to find only one servant and a new home empty of anything to fill his time. The cave where his father operates was locked to him from the get-go.

His father doesn't seem to trust him. He explained the situation to the servant, and then sent Damian off with the servant to find a room with the warning that if Damian "did anything", he'd regret it.

Damian's hardly seen his father since. When he's not working as a CEO, he's out as Batman, and Damian sits in the manor all day and night running out of ways to keep himself entertained.

Sometimes he sees his father at supper, but he doesn't ever start any conversation. Damian doesn't start any either, thinking it's purposeful. He doesn't ask about Damian's stay, or if he's comfortable here, or anything. He doesn't update Damian on any new information about his mother and the league. The only words he speaks to Damian are gruff good nights.

Miserable. It's miserable. He doesn't understand why his mother is so in love with such a miserable man for company.

He doesn't speak up on it, however. If his father is anything like his teachers or his grandfather, questioning him or speaking out of turn will just get him in trouble. He'd like to keep his stay at a tolerable level of misery, thank you very much.

So he doesn't say anything to his father, even though he's itching to go out with him at night to... to do whatever he does. He's seen the television, Superman has a kid fighting with him in Metropolis. Why can't Damian do the same with his father as well? He can wear a mask and change his name. He can easily defend himself, even against this country's love for guns.

He still doesn't say anything, and he spends the days miserable.

-o-o-o-o-

It's the butler, Alfred as he has insisted many times during his stay (Damian humors him by calling him by his first name, being as he's the only one to speak to Damian in this drab house), who suggests school a few months after coming here.

"School," his father says blankly, looking at Alfred like he's lost his mind.

"He's a young, growing boy," Alfred says. "It's not good for the lad to be inside all day like this."

Damian sits at the dining table, stiff like he's stepped on a landmine and is now waiting for it to explode. However, he can't help but look up at his father through his lowered eyebrows to meet his sharp gaze. School... doesn't sound like something that would be any fun, but... but anything to get out of this manor sounds almost heavenly.

His hopes fall when his father shakes his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

And something inside Damian snaps just a little. "Dangerous for who?" He demands, slamming his hands on the table. "For me? Or for the other children?"

His father looks stunned, and Damian's stomach drops as Alfred's eyes widen as well.

He's running out of the dining room before anything else can be said.

He's messed up. He's definitely, royally, messed up.

-o-o-o-o-

Punishment for yelling at his father doesn't come like he expects it to. A week goes by, and there's not a single word of his outburst.

It sets him on edge. It fries his nerves. It makes him jumpy and paranoid and frightened at every shadow.

So much so that he finally decides, one day, to pull the sword hanging above the library entrance off the wall and practice with it. It's heavier than what he's used to back in Nanda Parbat. British history is in the shape of the blade, but he still wields it and practices rusty moves on it until he's sweating in the middle of the library. Usually training makes him feel better, but the more time that passes, the more frustrated he gets.

He gets so frustrated that he imagines enemies surrounding him. He imagines the warmth of blood splattering against his skin as he swings. The taste as it touches his tongue. Their screams of death. He gets so deep in this trance that he doesn't notice he's broken something until the sound of crashing glass reaches his ears; he's swung right through a glass display case, the unprotected remains of a signed classic novel resting inside.

His heart jumps when the door opens to see what the commotion is about, and he drops the sword like it's hot when Alfred is the one to poke his head through.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Alfred gives him a long look, and then he sighs. "Come fetch the broom with me, and we can clean this up."

"Will you tell father?" Damian asks slowly. He can tell it's a loaded question when Alfred pauses and purses his lips.

"Not this time," he says finally, after a few heartbeats. "But I do think it's time I speak with him about some other things. Come along, the quicker we clean this up, the quicker I can get you a cup of tea to stop you from looking like a frightened racoon."

-o-o-o-o-

A few days pass, and his father invites him to follow after dinner. Out of everything Damian expects to come from this, being led into the batcave through a grandfather clock in the study wasn't one of them.

"You can train here," his father said, showing him a massive room in the cave filled to the brim with practice tools of all kinds. Dulled swords, throwing stars, bo-staffs, and straw dummies to name a few. There's locked cases on the far side of the training room, of which Damian suspects are full of much more sharp, dangerous, and fun tools.

No matter. He's already feeling his blood shake with excitement at the thought of finally getting some proper practices again.

"You can come down here only when myself or Alfred are here to supervise you," his father explains. "Nothing here leaves this room, and if anything breaks you tell us immediately."

"Can I start now?" Damian asks, barely managing to hold himself back from running towards the closest, one-handed blade.

His father, surprisingly, nods. "I'm going out, and Alfred will be down to help me with the computer. He will be in charge."

Damian can't stop himself from smiling. Finally there's something to do in this house. Feeling hopeful, he decides to ask one more question.

"Can I go with you? One day?"

Silence is his answer for a few heartbeats, making Damian suddenly fearful that he shouldn't have asked that. Then, his father sighs.

"We will see."

-o-o-o-o-

A few more days pass before they do see. He suspects Alfred must have had another conversation with his father, because he approaches him one night and offers to spar.

It's done in full concentration, not a single word exchanged between the two. Both are too busy studying the other's fighting patterns to say anything.

It's now that Damian realizes what his mother meant whenever she spoke about his father's advanced martial arts. It's brutal and expertly executed. It's only a matter of time before he's pinned. He's disappointed in himself, but not surprised to end up losing.

But not all is lost. He can tell his father is impressed when he releases his pin and tosses Damian a rag to wipe off his sweat.

"We need to talk to Alfred about getting you a suit."

-o-o-o-o-

The suit Alfred makes him is made of the strongest, thinnest material Damian had ever seen. It cannot only be Kevlar, because it would be heavier than this. It must have been created by his father himself, or one of his associates.

Whatever the case, he's in awe by it. Alfred is a master of every craft, it seems. He's managed to create the suit to Damian's submitted designs to the T, only making subtle changes here and there where sketches don't match up with reality.

It's mostly black, because according to his father white isn't a good color to go with in Gotham. It's understandable, as much as Damian dislikes it. He's always liked wearing whites and tans for his outfits, accenting here and there with greens and blues to bring out his eyes. Black is such a boring and dull color, but this, he supposes, he will have to deal with.

And it's not all black, at the least. Just the bits around his shoulders, cape, hood, sides, and legs. On his chest, however, is a splash of dark maroon, as well his boots and gloves. His belt is yellow, like his father's, and filled only with smoke pellets, a grappling gun, and a hanging pair of sticks that triple as escrima, a bo-staff, and nun-chucks. Not his preferred weapon, but his father doesn't seem to be very trustful with him and sharp ones yet.

He goes out into the city, out of the manor, for the first time in what feels like forever. His father keeps a sharp eye on him, reminding him every two seconds to not kill anyone, but Damian doesn't mind too much.

He's just happy to be out, and to finally get glimpses of what his father is truly like outside of the stories of his mother and the silent dinners.

He's ruthless, but not heartless. Strong, but not abusive. He prioritizes justice, above all else, and teaches Damian that even the criminals deserve it. The victims get saved, and his father leaves the criminals to be picked up by the cops to be brought to rehabilitation or wherever else they must go.

Damian's careful to remember these teachings, even though he doesn't understand them. He's been raised to think the only thing bad people deserved was punishment, but after taking down a bank robbery, his father researches the names of the robbers and finds that the bank keeper was blackmailing them to give him money on top of the loans they already had with the bank.

The bank keeper was trying to pay off the gangs to protect the bank from other gangs.

So on and so forth.

Gotham seems to be a big cycle of abuse, with no one willing to end it.

Well, no one besides his father.

It doesn't make sense to Damian why his father would try so hard to stop it, but he can at least respect it.

For now.

-o-o-o-o-

Everything goes almost fine until it doesn't.

For the first time in almost half a year, Damian finds himself separated from his father and Alfred. There's a new big bad in Gotham, a man with half of his face burned off by acid. Two-Face, he calls himself. Harvey Dent, his father informed before he left Damian behind to fight him alone.

"This is personal," he said.

And Damian didn't listen. He wanted to see what a real fight was like in Gotham. These petty bank robberies and classic muggings were getting boring and repetitive. He didn't mean to get so close.

His father was in a standoff with Two-Face, and on a stroke of bad luck one of the goons spotted him watching.

"It's Red Bird!" Shouted the goon. Red Bird is the name Gotham had started to call him by in the papers.

A group of the goons charged after him, the rest kept by Two-Face and his father, sneering as they separated his father from helping with their guns and a baby hostage.

And maybe it was seeing the child in Two-Face's arms that made him see red. Maybe it was the disappointment in himself for being spotted. Maybe it was simply all the pent up frustration that's been building without his knowledge since he's gotten here.

Whatever the case, he fought back a little harder than he meant to. What he was supposed to. He brought most of the goons down to the ground, clutching broken bones and bloodied gashes. His old training kicks in, and he goes to hit one of his opponents in a specific place that would kill them.

"RED BIRD!" His father shouts angrily over the commotion.

And Damian stumbles, stopping in his kill-path. His father sounds disappointed and upset and- and Damian almost disobeyed his orders and his father saw it immediately.

Then, before he can be fearful or horrified or confused, his own skull is hit hard enough that the world fades to black.

He wakes up with his arms tied behind his back and his entire person disarmed. His father stands at a makeshift pair of gallows, another man besides him. Both are hooded.

Two-Face flips his coin and asks Damian heads or tails. He says tails, and saves his father, but the other man hangs.

Then, Two-Face beats Damian with a bat, to the point he can't see straight, and the pain drags him back into unconsciousness. The last thought he has is that he's failed. He's disappointed his father, and he must have disappointed his mother as well if she hasn't come back for him yet.

He's failed.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes in the batcave's med-bay, his entire body numb. He can only lay there with a tube running up his nose and needles in his arm, listening to the machine besides him voice his heartbeat. Vacantly, he can hear arguing voices outside his door, one of a woman he doesn't recognize and the other of his father.

He closes his eyes when the arguing gets too loud, but opens them sometime later when it stops and someone enters the room.

His father stands in the doorway, his face looking more raw and vulnerable than Damian's ever seen it.

"I thought I lost you," is all he says before he runs to the cot and grabs Damian's hand. The one not in a sling, he realizes. He's so numb he didn't even notice he had so many bandages and casts on him.

Not that he focuses on that for long. In fact, all he can focus on is that his father is clutching his hand like a lifeline and whispering over and over how sorry he is.

"I should have been better," his father rambles. "You're not like Jon, you don't have powers. I'm so stupid for letting you out there- I almost got you killed- your mother is going to murder me-"

Damian doesn't even know what to say. He's so flabbergasted by the actions of his father, that he just lays there as his father continues.

"I knew I wasn't cut out for this. I'm not even in my thirties, and I'm a dad. I tried my best to keep you safe, make sure you didn't get yourself into danger- and I fucked it all up. I don't know what I'm doing, Dami. I don't know- I'm sorry-"

And this continues for a little while longer until the door opens again, revealing Alfred and the woman who must have been yelling at his father before. She has gray hair, curled up like a loose afro around her head, revealing her old age. Behind her glasses, her eyes are sad. Together, Alfred and the woman approach the bed, and the woman lays her hand on his father's shoulder.

"We need to check his bandages," she says.

His father nods, wiping quickly under his eyes before he stands up. She gives Alfred a look before she leads Bruce out.

It's only Alfred and Damian for a moment, and Damian releases a breath.

"He's not going to let me out again."

Silence.

Then Alfred comes to his side and looks at the bandages. "I will talk with him. First, let's get you healed up and properly introduce you to Miss Thompkins."

-o-o-o-o-

Red Bird does go out again, once he's healed up. Alfred's talks with his father do wonders, it seems, as life at the manor has gone back to lonely and miserable—what with his father avoiding him at every chance. But he goes out again, swinging into the night with his father silently beside him having just finished retelling him every rule he must follow.

Damian intends to follow them. He doesn't want to lose this. He's come so close to losing this.

He hopes... That maybe... If he follows the rules... Things will start getting better again.

They fight crime like normal, going their normal routes and working silently by each other. By the time it's time to go home, Damian's feeling more alive than he has since Two-Face beat him with the bat.

Before they can return to the manor, however, a familiar signal is lit in the sky by the police department. His father stills and Damian watches him carefully. His father has been careful to keep him out of the business that comes with that signal, even before Two-Face.

His father sighs, then gives Damian a hard look through his cowl.

"Behave," is all he says before they're on their way to the police station.

There's a man on the roof. Commissioner Jim Gordon. He gives his father a greeting, then pauses when Damian steps out besides him.

"Decided to finally introduce us?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "Just when I thought Red Bird was off the streets for good."

Damian bristles, but his father sighs. "What do you need, Commissioner?"

"Apparently a college teacher went insane and poisoned his students with a gas that made them see their deepest fears. Professor Jonathan Crane. It sounds like something you'd handle quicker, and I can get you the files we have on him after you explain to me why you're still letting a child run around in tights. Especially after you told me he was quote un-quote, 'alive but out of commission'."

"I don't see why it's your business," Damian hisses before he can stop himself.

"Red Bird," Batman scolds, and Damian falls quiet.

His father looks at the Commissioner with a hard look. "He's my responsibility, and I will look after him."

"There were rumors he died, Batman," Gordon argues back. "Two-Face bragged about it all the way to Arkham. He had blood on his face."

His father stiffens his jaw, then says through gritted teeth. "I will never allow something like that to happen ever again. If you want my word, I will give it in saying if anyone like Two-Face tries to hurt him like that again, I will make sure they regret the thought before it can happen. Red Bird will continue to be with me where I can watch him, and you will respect that. Trust me, it's safer for all of us this way."

He looks down at Damian, then almost smiles.

"He will sneak out himself anyways, eventually. Or I won't hear the end of it from a mutual acquaintance."

Damian finds himself smiling back. It seems getting on the good side of Alfred was a good decision on his part. And he's right in the former statement as well. Damian is sure he'd eventually get bored enough of being left behind and go out to prove himself without permission. Red Bird... It's too good to give up. He can't lose it.

It's like a staring contest between Gordon and his father for what feels like an entire minute, but eventually Gordon gives up with a sigh.

"Don't know how you do it. The wife's starting to talk about having a kid... I can't imagine a little one of mine running around doing the things I do, let alone what you do."

He brings a cigarette to his mouth, then pulls out a file with his free hand. "Take the case."

Batman steps up to do as was told, but before Gordon let's go, he gives his father a hard look.

"You better keep your word," he growls, "because if anything happens again to that kid, I'm holding you responsible and I'll bring you in for child endangerment myself."

Batman nods. "I'm counting on it."

-o-o-o-o-

Eventually, the topic of school comes up again.

Which of course brings up the topic that no one actually knows about Bruce Wayne's son. Damian's been kept a secret this entire time, unknown to the public.

"We'll tell them that your mother and I met at the end of highschool, and we have kept you a secret ever since. Due to your mother's weakening health, we decided it would be best for your future to have your custody turned over to me and the mother wishes to remain private. Then, we can-"

"Wait," Damian interrupts. "You're going to let me go to school?"

His father pauses in his verbal plans, then nods.

And suddenly, Damians jumping from his chair with joy, wrapping his arms around his father's neck without thinking about it. However, the second he realizes his action, he attempts to scramble away with horror. He's never hugged his father before. But things have been so good, civil even, to the point where they can be in the same room and have conversations about the weather or the recent sports game or even about a new cartoon Damian found on TV.

But they never hugged.

Afraid he's pressed boundaries, he pushes away, but he doesn't go far before a hand wraps around his shoulder. Damians left halfway on his father's lap where he sits, looking at him with anxiety churning in his stomach and an unreadable expression on his father's face.

Then, gently, Damian's pulled back in so now arms are wrapping around his back. His father's hugs are soft and warm, Damians learns. The opposite of how he fights. Yet he feels so safe and protected that he doesn't resist the action.

"This is really happening," his father says in a whisper. "I have a son. I'm really a dad now. I... I promise I will be better for you. From now on. I'm sorry for how I treated you... In the beginning. I was scared. It's no excuse, but I promise you, I will be better."

And he is. They get ice cream after and then watch a movie before going out as Batman and Red Bird.

Time passes so Damian starts school and makes friends. He meets Clark Kent and his son, Jon, and makes a best friend. He grows older, and happier, to the point he no longer misses the League of Assassins. To the point when his mother does finally return to see him, saying the danger has passed...

Damian tells her he wishes to stay with his father. She smiles, and hugs him, and says that she's proud of him. She promises to visit him as often as she can after they share a good cry.

She leaves, and visits, and time moves on a little more.

Until one day, years later, they notice a kid with a camera following them around and taking pictures. Then, the same kid admits to knowing about their civilian identities when confronted.

His father searches the kid up when they get back to the manor, and after some digging it's revealed his name is Tim Drake and his parents are neglectful and strict.

Damian sees the same look in his father's eyes as when he first told the public he had a son named Damian Wayne, and he gets the feeling the manor is about to get a little more crowded.

This, he thinks, is about to get interesting. It's been awhile since life threw a curve ball. He just didn't expect this one to come in the form of a little brother.

And life goes on.

[anonymouslyangsty]

You wanna hear a super angsty au idea? Taka just so happens to walk in when Mondo bludgeons Chihiro with the dumbbell. Taka's first instinct is to try and resuscitate Chihiro, who is unconscious but just holding on. When it becomes clear that Chihiro is going to die regardless, Taka makes an impulse decision. He delivers the killing blow himself.

First of all how dare you.

Second of all...That’s a very good idea.

Off topic for a sec. I’ve always thought that Taka is capable of killing, that ALL of the students are. But I can’t see him killing for selfish reasons. Taka wouldn’t kill just to escape. Either he’d do it to save someone else, or protect something worth dying for. Either way, I have a hard time thinking of a situation where he’d actually try to escape. Taka wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice the lives of others for his own.

But to sacrifice his life to save someone he cares about? Yes. 

And honestly, though it’s so far from what we’re used to with his character, I can see it. Taka would freak out of course, do everything in his power to keep Chihiro alive. He has to, because if he fails than both Chihio and Mondo will die. And in that moment, there’s no rebuke of Mondo, no thought on his friend’s character that he’d do something like this. Just the raw terror of seeing someone die right before his eyes.

Giving up is something that isn’t in Taka’s character. He doesn’t give up. He keeps fighting tooth and nail for what he wants, regardless of how much it hurts. But that willingness to sacrifice and suffer is for him and him alone. 

But in that gym? Watching someone bleed out and convulse in his arms? That’s a totally different situation. If it were his life on the line, he’d keep trying to help Chihiro until the body started to cool. But someone else, Mondo, will die if he can’t fix this!

And that panic, that sudden realization that Mondo will die, is enough to make Taka pause in his panicked attempts to slow the bleeding. If Chihiro dies, Mondo will be a murderer. He’ll be killed, executed. And that...terrifies Kiyotaka.

Taka doesn’t have many friends. In fact, he had none before Mondo. All his work in the morals committee got him the sneers and hate of his classmates. And so having now made a friend, the kind of connection Taka had longed for but could never grasp...Taka’s unwilling to let that die. He’s unwilling to let Mondo die. 

So Taka gives up, at least on saving Chihiro. He accepts that it’s something his hard work can’t fix.

But he can save Mondo. 

And really, it’s not like it changes anything, right? He’s the leader, the one tasked with keeping everyone together. Any death that happens within Hope’s Peak is HIS fault, because he’s meant to be guiding everyone down the right path. Thus, him killing Chihiro is no different from the fact that he allowed Leon and Sayaka to die. At least here, someone else won’t take the fall for his failures. 

If Taka were left to his own devices, it would be a quick trial. He’d have no reason to hide what he’d done, because doing so would make his whole goal pointless. 

But he isn’t left to his own devices. Mondo’s there.

And Mondo...I’m not sure what his initial reaction would be. Shock at what had happened, anger that Taka would throw his life away for someone like him, relief that he isn’t going to die... I’m not sure. But whatever it is, I think Mondo would ultimately decide that he has to save Kiyotaka

He’s already a murderer. He killed Daiya with his pride, then killed Chihiro because he was weak. Now he’s about to drag Kiyotaka down with him. Another victim in the long list of his fuck ups. 

But a man doesn’t let others take the fall for his mistakes. He already did that to two people. Mondo wouldn’t let Taka be next.

So Mondo, as Taka’s cleaning up and trying to make Chihiro’s body look as neat as possible, is planning. Mondo’s not really a plan guy. He’s the ‘rush in and knock heads’ type. But he’s also the leader of the biggest biker gang in Japan. When he needs to be tactical, he CAN be. 

And he’s got to be tactical to save Kiyotaka.

Taka’s not going to let him take the fall. He’ll label himself the killer as quickly as possible and all but begged Monokuma to kill him. 

So Mondo has to force him into it.

From what I see, he’s got two options. He can ALSO confess, make it look like Taka’s trying to take the blame to save his friend. It’d be a hard case, because it’d just be his word against Taka’s. He’d got like a 50% chance of that working.

Second option is to make Taka forget what happened. Which wouldn’t exactly be easy, but it’s possible. Mondo’s been fighting for YEARS, he’s been surviving on the streets. I’m sure he knows how to make someone forget the last couple of hours, be it through knocking them in the head the right way, or drugging them.

 And sure, Mondo wouldn’t do that kind of thing usually. He’s not some prick going around putting stuff in a girl’s drink. But being on the streets for as long as he has, Mondo would definitely understand how that stuff works, if only so he can stop it. 

Whatever way he picks, I see Mondo pulling a bit of a Celeste in this latter option. Laying an unconscious Taka out, covering him with blood, and making it look like he was attacked and survived. And just PRAYING he doesn’t remember killing Chihiro, so Mondo can take the fall and he can escape. 

All and all it’s a very interesting idea. Mainly because it puts the two strong determinations of our lads against one another. Both are terrified of losing a brother, so much so that they’re willing to die to save them. 

And honestly, if Mondo can manage to make Taka forget about killing Chi, I think he could successfully frame himself. All the evidence would point to him, not to mention that it’s far easier to think Mondo attacked Chi than Taka.

Imagine that situation. Imagine Taka, desperate and horrified, insisting Mondo would never kill someone despite all the evidence pointing to the contrary. And he’s begging them, sobbing and crying, begging them not to kill his only friend. A man who he’d do anything to save.

Only for them to vote anyway...and to be wrong.  And for one flash, there’s this burning anger. He told them, told them that Mondo was a good man, that he would never kill anyone. If only they listened, if only anyone ever listened. If only he were a better leader.

But then he hears Monokuma congratulating him of all people. Congratulating him on graduating, successfully killing Chihiro.

It would be a horrifying moment. Angry and frightened shots being thrown his way, accusing him of getting them all killed. And Taka doesn’t remember it, doesn’t believe he could ever do something like that. He would never, right? He’s not like his grandfather, he’s not a bad person. He would never hurt anyone for selfish gain.

And yet here he is, being accused for a crime he honestly cannot remember. 

Monokuma, the monster he is, wouldn’t let that stand. Of COURSE he’d show the video, show Taka desperately pounding a dumbell into Chihiro’s skill, slamming it down until he’s sure the smaller boy is dead. Making sure everyone gets a good long look at that once white uniform stained red.

[hickeys-dickey]

Pls share your thoughts about the gays in THAT scene… I would love to read them!

Ahh you are too kind, I am but a little swiss cheese brain but I'll try my best to sum up my thoughts, I have too many! I wanted a chance to grab some screenshots too! I'm going to put a read more because this is a long one buckle up lads.

So obviously the whole punishment for Hickey is designed to humiliate him (I would imagine this is one of the reasons his punishment isn't explained to him, because if Hickey truly was a naval petty officer he would know, and I think it's another way for Crozier to essentially say "I see you" and not in a good way). The fact we're not shown the other whippings shows the importance lies in the scene with Hickey.

I've seen a bit of discussion about his charge of "dirtiness", which isn't listed initially when we see him being questioned by the Captains, and whether or not it alludes to homosexuality but on a quick cursory search it does seem to have been used as a euphemism where an outright accusation of sodomy would mean a death sentence. The way Crozier throws it out there, no doubt to heap the humiliation onto Hickey and add crimes to the list to cover the fact he added lashes on to the punishment essentially for a bruised ego (but that's another matter), suggests a whole lot of venom to the accusation. Hickey's pointed look at Irving and Irving's quick shift of his gaze down suggests they both know exactly why Crozier has listed this among Hickey's list of crimes, and Hickey looks furious for it.

But I think this is also ultimately where the panic begins to set in. Again, there are far greater minds than me who have made excellent posts about queer coded characters in the terror, and I think it's no surprise that most of them are the faces that are focused on in this scence. It is clear long before this moment that Crozier's leadership is lacking, and people have already begun to voice concerns fairly loudly. Tozer for one is livid in the wake of Heather being injured, and the marines have clearly started distancing themselves from both the officers and the men. I feel like this scene, for a lot of characters is a point of major shift in either allegiences or character.

Tozer and the Captains are the first faces that are panned to in this scene and I think the expressions speak for themselves.

Tozer is visibly upset/concerned after the first lash. I do think guilt probably has a part to play, in that is was him whole told Hickey where Silna was, and presumably approved enough of the plan to not rat him out to anyone. Again, very probably part of Tozer's anger at Heather being injured due to what he sees is Crozier's poor management. Fitzjames is stoney faced, but is also the only one looking. As a man who many have noted pushes himself to pick emotional scabs, I think it would make sense for someone who is also notably queer coded and stuggles with trauma to make himself look directly at someone being whipped for a crime he himself might commit. Crozier isn't even looking, whether out of suddenly doubting his harshness or simply triggering something in his own memory it's not clear. I think the end of this shot also speaks for itself.

(Fig 1. Three Concerned (very likely not straight) men contemplate)

The lads at the back behind Mr. Johnson are all looking Directly At the whipping as it is taking place. Interestingly none of the men at the front near the table are looking. This is the stewards, officers, and marines. Whether out of respect or also Concern at their own skins (I think every one of these characters has been addressed as being queer coded at some point, minus the marines who are all, except Tozer, fairly nameless characters).

I'm not a gifmaker which is unfortunate for this section, though this is what is gifed in the beautiful gifset by sashneeka I reblogged (x). Tommy is also visibly upset, whether because he knows Tozer was involved in the plot to kidnap Silna and is concerned for him and any of the rest of the crew who had assisted in someway or voiced support. Billy interestingly does look briefly, and sets his jaw after in a way that suggests he's trying to fight the guilt of being the one to tell Irving about the whole affair with Hickey to paint himself in a better light. It could just as easily be Billy there on that table being lashed, but he somehow rationalises it in his head (probably because Hickey is a little bastard) that he was right in what he did. He does look down fairly guiltily after this, so maybe he hasn't quite settled on an opinion. Jopson also looks incredibly concerned/unsettled, and interestingly looks at Hickey right up until the whip hits where he flinches, and not for the only time in this scene. From what we know about Jopson's past, though not at this point, it may well be he is remembering similar punishment/mistreatment and like Fitzjames looks enough to pick the scab open and flinch from his own trauma.

The closeup of Hickey shows the full extent of his rage and humiliation building, and as I think Adam himself said, they whipped something out of Hickey that day and let him reach this potential that lay inside him (to become an even bigger bastard). He's fully severed all ties and feelings of loyalty after this and it becomes full on train to manipulation station from this point. I have a lot of Thoughts about Hickey also (which I am sure you are all aware of) but I think there was some semblance of Hickey attempting to start afresh on this journey, or at the very least keep his head down and go unnoticed. The trouble is, he notices Crozier as a flawed man, and one not from the upper classes like himself, and his ego can't help but think we're not so different, that could be me with the right connections. Well surprise lads, its murder time now and he's gonna make this old man pay for not recognising initiative but punishing it. I do wonder if Crozier wasn't booze sick and rattled from losing even more men under his command, would he not have come down so harshly for someone clearly defying the Articles to do what he thinks is right and save the men (a la Crozier and his fuck you I'm directly contradicting an order and leading this rescue party myself).

Tozer gets another wee closeup here and again looks like he has resolved something in his head too. Most likely that he thinks Crozier an unfit leader, and admiring Hickey for having the balls to do what he did (Hickey also never reveals anyone else who came with him, and when he talks about Hartnell and Mason's part in taking Silna it highlights their skill and bravery and (he thinks) commends them to the Captain. It's probably the only time we see him building up and applauding others). He looks dead ahead here and seems to have a very steely gaze, like yep fuck it looks like I'm going it alone now. It is interesting that Tozer goes from this to notably disliking Hickey (both at the start and when they are packing up - "you've just given me an excuse to give a big shove". This might be anger at Hickey having caused all the issues with Silna after the fact when Heather gets killed at Carnivale), but still follows him in the end. Hickey has the ability to kill, manipulate, steal, basically do whatever needed for their group to get ahead, which means Tozer can be part of the group and not have to dirty his own hands. I think Tozer probably has a complicated relationship with Hickey, but he does fall for the charm hook, line, and sinker, and the fact he seems concerned for him here suggests how easily he is sympathetic to those he sees as being wronged.

Gibby getting Hickey's blood on his hand (ayy) seems to visibly make him blanch, and I do find it interesting that the shot then pans to Tommy as though they are looking at each other when they are stood side by side. The similarities between them maybe? (I've seen and reblogged a lot of discourse about Tommy loving Tozer, maybe another nod to no one being so different to the man on the table?) Irving doesn't get much of a close up in the rest of this scene but bless him he looks equal parts terrified and guilty (another man who has been noted as having a list of many things to distract from the Gay Thoughts like why do you need to distract from Gay Thoughts Irving?). He also has the Far Off Look of trauma about him, probably because he too could just as easily be on that table.

I have many many thoughts about the way Hickey turns to look (and fucking smile???) at Crozier next, which is when Crozier is looking directly at him and Fitzjames looks at him. Like if I were Crozier I think my fucking blood would chill, look at this man. Being humiliated and lashed still hasn't broken him, if anything he has just become fully unhinged and looks at Crozier as though to say "did you really think this would work?". I would also say, this man has fairly quite for someone who is at this stage something like 22 lashes in? Like what the actual fuck Hickey?? I fully belive Hickey to be a psycopath, and most of what he does in the beginning of the series is an attempt to stay hidden until they get to Hawaii and he can ditch the crew, but I think it is fairly safe to say he isn't hiding it any more.

And he knows this is going to make the men doubt Crozier - I can't do a proper search because I am using my work laptop atm, but I seem to remember reading that a punishment greater than 12 lashes required a court martial (probably why Little steps in to say so when Crozier orders his punishment as well as them technically being lost at sea), which would be another strike against him as a Captain. Not only that, but Crozier does seem to grant him some mercy in letting him only be lashed I think 23 or so times? Probably because the tension is fucking palpable in this whole scene and Crozier can either choose to claw back some sense of control on the matter, or deal with the consequences of many people admiring Hickey for what he has done for the crew and start a mutiny. I think this is the first time Fitzjames sees the damage Crozier is doing to himself with his choices as Captain, and is probably just as concerned at the look Hickey is giving him. He knows this has unleashed something in this tiny rat bastard too, and that he will become the physical manifestation of Crozier's self-destructive tendancies. Crozier perpetually comes to everything just a fraction too late to change anything - he never saves any of the men, only comforts them as they die, and a lot of this has to do with his own ego and bad decision making, and I think this is the first example here of the fact his actions are having an effect on others to the point it will be his downfall.

Anyway, to round it off, I think this scene really epitomises the notion that Hickey is a mirror to the rest of the men, and they see their flaws in him. Those who have questioned Crozier's captaincy look concernced knowing they too could be being lashed. They too would have tried to get Silna to stop the Tuunbaq hunting them. Those who are queer or queer coded know they too could be being lashed for it. Crozier himself sees his unwillingness to follow the Articles in him, sees his own insubordination, and feels what Sir John meant when he said his position afforded him deference. Hickey may as well be a metaphor for all the men being lashed, theres not one among them who haven't voiced wanting to do what he has done. Let them without sin and all that. This is make or break for who holds loyalty to the Captain, and the turning point for who is going where. I think everyone except Jopson, Irving and Fitzjames ends up in the mutineers camp, and Irving ends up killed and mutilated by Hickey and Fitzjames is scavanged by them. Theres not one of them that isn't haunted by what happened in this scene, and Hickey would end up being the death of every single one of them. The only one who remains loyal after this is Jopson, who thinks his care and duty to the Captain can outweigh his other sins. Fitzjames and Crozier have a stronger relationship once he recovers from his withdrawal, yes, but Fitzjames also keeps him in check now (I'm thinking of Edward Little being threatened with flogging again because of course I am), and it is another step too late for Crozier's self-destruction. I've seen a Hickey/Fitzjames Christ analogy on here before too, so I hope you'll forgive me in comparing them, but Hickey in this scene really does get punished for everyone else's crimes in this scene, and becomes a sort of Christ-like figure, reborn as a complete version of the worst of himself from the pain of being lashed. They whipped something out of him!! Anyway, that about sums it up!

[majimemegoro]

just finished watching a playthrough of saejima's hunting storyline and i get why you like okudera so much now. he's a pretty minor character in the eyes of the game's main storyline but damn, he's genuinely really compelling, alongside the entire hunting storyline...i really fuckin like this dude now. anyways, i wanted to ask, do you know of a timeline or anything of his backstory? cause its. a little confusing for me to understand

WE CAUGHT ONE LADS

jokes aside I'm so glad you watched, so glad you liked it, and so glad you took the time to let me know. for anyone else who wants the chance to discover the joy of MR OKUDERA, whether or not you have a ps4 or steam, you can do that here.

as for the backstory timeline... buckle up, because it's convoluted as heck. We learn about the events of 9 years ago partially through the false story of the villagers and partially from okudera (whose tell-all story at the end is also, I think, a bit cagey and perhaps deliberately vague). these in-text obstacles to determining The Truth are exacerbated by the fact that the remastered version has at least one egregious translation error, and hence the possibility of other errors.

But I've spent a LOT of time trying to figure out the timeline. like a stupid amount of time. and while i still plan to do a serious methodical review of the story and determine the possibilities once and for all, I'll take this as an opportunity to lay out what I currently figure is probably the case.

disclaimers: y5 spoilers for the okudera/hunting storyline follow. i also havent systematically reviewed the evidence before posting, so it's possible that there will be errors. if anyone notices them, PLEASE point them out! meanwhile I will do my best to specify what is fact and what is interpretation: events I am 99-100% sure of, and are stated more or less explicitly in the text, will go in normal text, while I'll put my own filling-in-the-blanks and original notes in [square brackets]. I have some pretty detailed personal headcanons to do with these events, but I will NOT bring them up. Here I promise I will only bring up speculation that has a textual basis and is strictly necessary to fill in the gaps of the accounts given by mr okudera and the other vilalgers.

I will refer from now on to mr okduera as Sato, and to og okudera as okudera.

~10 years ago

the upcoming changes to hunting regulations are announced, and a hunting boom begins on the mountain [this could be more than 10 years ago]

sato breaks out of Abashiri, either crashes or abandons his snowmobile, and is saved by okudera

[Nishina recovers the snowmobile at some point]

okudera teaches sato how to hunt "as I (sato) was losing hope of living"

meanwhile the natural balance on the mountain is decaying due to overhunting, and bears are becoming vicious

~9 years ago, 6 months after sato's arrival in the village

yama-oroshi, the giant-size bear, is first spotted and starts causing trouble

~9 years ago

during a blizzard, okudera goes out after yama-oroshi. [the villagers give conflicting accounts of his intentions. i think sakurai says okudera wanted to help them, while nishina says he was after money. unclear whether sakurai is telling his honest opinion or a cover story]

sato goes around begging the villagers for food with "hat in hand" and is given some by mrs nishina [note that he apparently didn't have any, even though, if you accept this timeline, yama-oroshi hadn't yet attacked the village and destroyed its food stores. mrs nishina tells the story of okduera begging, and she doesnt specify when it happens, but i think it was probably here? not sure though.]

sato follows okudera into the mountain, intending to kill him

sato finds okudera; okudera reveals that he already knew sato was planning to kills him, and tells him that it's okay to carry out his mission

sato decides not to kill okudera

Okudera is attacked by Yama-oroshi. Sato passes out. [was he attacked???]

[okudera fights off yama-oroshi alone, defending the unconscious sato and succeeding in driving the bear away]

However okudera is grievously injured

Sato awakens on bloody snow. [presumably the site of the original attack, though its not for sure.] the dying okudera holds his hand and tells him to take his name and continue living in order to atone for both of their crimes.

[at some point here okudera presumably dies. it is possible that sato buries him at this time, but perhaps more likely that sato immediately follows yama-oroshi, who is headed towards the village, presumably having been driven in that direction during the fight against sato. saving the village from a demon bear would seem like a good way to begin atoning for a life of crime.]

Yama-oroshi attacks the village, ruining buildings and eating/destroying all of the food stored up for the winter, including the buried food

(still 9 years ago, but after this the order of events gets really fuzzy. the remaining events may shift slightly in order, depending on one's stance on the next bullet)

sato saves the village somehow [this bit is really vague. possibly this comment is referring to ways in which sato helped revitalize the matagi principles of conservation and mutual aid in the village. but I think it is more likely that he did something more concrete, namely, luring yama-oroshi away from the village. otherwise why did Yama-oroshi leave before killing anyone? someone did something, I think, and I think it was sato.]

[sato reports to the villagers that okudera ("sato") is missing - probably NOT that he is dead. the villagers then presumably report this to the police, since sato cannot be seen by the police, who would surely recognize and escapee from Abashiri.] [Note that sakurai tells saejima that sato (mr okduera) went into the mountain after og okudera BECAUSE og okudera was already missing, but I don't think this makes sense unless it's part of the fake cover story. it's also possible that sato told the villagers okudera was missing & he was following him for that reason, since he wouldnt have admitted he was planning to kill him...]

[some of] the villagers realize or suspect that sato/”okudera” is the escaped convict. [because they would know WHEN sato showed up, and when the escape occurred, and they would know that the bigger guy who disappeared had been with them for too long to be the escapee]

the villagers decide to protect sato (”okudera”) by secretly following him on the mountain, and by shunning him so that they have an excuse for not knowing him well and hence not reporting his identity to the police.

[it seems that Sato never admits to the villagers that he knew okudera died. OR the villagers pretend not to believe that okudera is dead?? which is weird since youd think after almost a decade, “went missing on the mountain during a blizzard” would entail “presumed dead”... but i digress]

the village spends the rest of the winter and perhaps longer on the “brink of starvation”

at some point the new hunting regulations go into effect.

and that's the events of 9-10 years ago, as near as I can figure them.

Thoughts? questions? me too !!! please speak up, and thanks for the ask, comrade.

here is a user badge for you:

[ijustwant2write]

You'll Outlive Her-Thorin Oakenshield x Reader x Company

(GIF credit to @riepu10​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘hiii. a thorin x the company x fem!reader (21 years old). the reader tells the company about humans’ short life span (75-85 years old) and they freak out telling her they’re going to protect her and all that. very fluffy please & thank you!!’

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (platonic), Bilbo Baggins x Reader (platonic), all of the company x Reader (platonic), Gandalf x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death, but a majority is fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) could feel how sore her body was as the company continued riding, having done so for a whole day already. They had travelled far today, making good process. She had never imagined herself on a quest such as this, especially with dwarves. Although she was a human, (Y/N) had been surprisingly welcomed to the company, but not without slight disdain from Thorin; she could understand his feelings, she was not of their kind, she didn’t know what it was like to lose a home like that. Gandalf had recruited her (and she was a vast contrast to Bilbo) because of her skills in fighting, and the fact that her family had been nomads helped with journeys such as this.

The dwarves were kind to her. There had been no prejudice against her being a woman, and she had learnt that a lot of their women were fierce like her, it was a dwarfish custom. It was easy to joke with them, there had been banter amongst the group about Bilbo when he joined, and once he loosened up, he could be fun at times too. Naturally, the other thing that separated (Y/N) from the company (excluding Gandalf), was her height. (Y/N) wasn’t a tall girl per say, but the men were all smaller than her, giving (Y/N) the upper hand when they started teasing her about something; it always shut them up.

“I spy with my little eye...” Ori called out, followed by a round of groans from everyone else.

“Do you not tire of this game?” Bofur moaned.

“There’s nothing else to do!”

“We’re on a quest lad, what did you think we would be doing?”

“Go on, Ori,” (Y/N) smirked, knowing that it would annoy everyone else,“what do you see?”

“OK, I spy with my little eye, something beginning with...G!”

“Is it grass?”

When he didn’t reply, she looked back over my shoulder, giggling when she saw his head hanging low.“Don’t worry Ori, there’s not a lot to spot out here.”

Ori smiled slightly, mesmerised by (Y/N)’s own smile before she faced the front again. Dori noticed his brother’s blushing cheeks, leaning over as much as he could whilst staying on his pony.

“Stop that! She’s a human, you’re a dwarf.” he simply said.

“I wasn’t thinking of anything!” Ori defended himself.

The sounds around them were peaceful, it brought tranquility to their minds. They were riding through a forest, the gentle wind making the leaves above them rustle, the occasional chirping of birds joined, and the horses hooves were muffled against the worn out path they were riding on. Despite the company being relatively calm, (Y/N) noticed Bilbo’s expression, and how silent he had been. 

“Are you alright, Bilbo?” (Y/N) asked, her voice quieter.

“Hm?” he had been broken out of a trance.“Oh, um, yes, yes, um, I’m fine.”

She sadly smiled at him.“You’re missing home, aren’t you?”

He sighed.“A little. It would have been the easy choice to stay at home and carry on doing the same thing everyday. But something made me choose to accompany Thorin on his quest. And I hope I made the right choice.”

“You’ll figure that out for yourself, soon enough.”

“We need to find somewhere to sleep for the night.” Thorin announced.“Everyone be on the lookout for a good place to shelter.”

Once they had found a safe enough place to stay, the company began dismounting their ponies/horses, and setting up their camp. Food was being prepared, makeshift beds were being made, and those sent out to patrol the area had already left. They were situated in a tiny clearing in the woods, with enough trees and bushes to conceal them. The fire was lit, and everyone instinctively huddled closer, feeling the chill that the evening brought as the sun set. 

(Y/N) thanked Nori as he handed her a bowl of stew, and she sat on her bed, pulling a blanket tighter around her. The bowl provided more heat to her cold hands, the smell of food causing her stomach to rumble loudly. As she ate, she glanced around, smiling at the sight. These men were so determined to complete this quest, it made her feel motivated to help them. She thought back to one of the first nights they all had together, when Balin had recited the story of how the leader of the company became Thorin Oakenshield. (Y/N) had never met someone with a royal background, but had heard that they were snobs, and turned up their nose at anyone they deemed less than them. Despite Thorin’s first impression, (Y/N) had a feeling it wasn’t him. For someone to be like that, they would have had to have gone through something traumatic; she knew his story now, and it made him seem stronger, powerful, a true leader.

“Where’s Thorin?” (Y/N) asked Bombur who was sat beside her.

He shrugged before diving into his bowl. She scoffed a laugh, shaking her head as she finished off her own meal. Her eyes scanned around the camp, subconsciously counting the dwarves, making sure they were all there. Fili and Kili had just come back from patrol, almost racing towards the food as they reported that they hadn’t seen anything. (Y/N) almost wanted to ask if they knew where Thorin was, but didn’t.

“You know what,” Bofur said, getting everyone’s attention,“we still don’t know that much about you (Y/N).”

“Well, I suppose I have heard everything I can about all of you. What is it that you wish to know?”

“Where were you born? What were you like growing up? Why did you like to fight?”

(Y/N) laughed as he continued asking questions.“You know, come to think of it, I’ve lived a pretty simple life up until now.”

“A simple life? Really?” Balin said.

“Yes. I actually don’t know where I was born. My family never stayed in one place, they were completely free spirits, and when mother gave birth to me, we were travelling in the back of a caravan, with my father helping her, and my auntie and uncle riding up front. So they never really knew where we were when I was born."

There were a few chuckles from the group. She grinned and continued.

"All my family taught me how to fight, each of them with a specific skill. They said it was to keep me safe, that if we all knew how to fight, we could defend each other. Not that anything actually happened."

"Have you ever been in a fight?" Kili asked.

"Yes, a few times, but I was never the one to start them. I was always looking out for someone."

"That seems very like you lass." Bofur added.

"Although I was travelling, I haven't seen a lot in my life. We circled sometimes, meeting up with old friends. But as I myself grew older, I noticed how my parents didn't want to move as much. They rested more frequently. And I realised that I was the one in my prime, I was the one who had to be the leader. And I guess...I guess when I became the only one left of my family, I seeked new adventures. Something that would make them proud."

"How old were they? When they died?" Bilbo was careful how he said it.

"Hm, they all must have been in their eighties. I think father reached ninety-four actually!"

Everyone's eyes were wide, mouths agape as they stared at her. She felt uncomfortable with the attention, wondering why they all looked so shocked.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You poor thing." Nori breathed out.

"Th-thank you?"

"Losing your parents at such a young age...If you don't mind me asking, was it natural or...?" Dori said.

"Yes, it was natural. They were healthy for the most age. Old age caught up to them. Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

"My dear friends," Gandalf spoke up, smoking from his pipe,"you must understand that unfortunately humans have a much shorter lifespan that dwarves do."

"So, how old do you live to?" Fili asked.

(Y/N) thought for a moment."Usually eighty to ninety years old if you're healthy. I have heard of some people miraculously living to the age of one hundred!"

The company shared a concerned look with each other, worrying (Y/N). Why was this such a big deal?

"Do you know how long dwarves live for?" Thorin suddenly appeared, making everyone whip their heads towards him.

(Y/N) nodded."You can live up to two hundred and fifty years old, sometimes older."

"Doesn't that frighten you?" Ori asked.

"Well, no. It's just how life works. I suppose it would be great to live for that long, but at the same time, you age the same as I, though in different ways...that made more sense in my head." she quickly laughed, though no one else joined.

"And...how old are you now?" Kili's voice was quieter.

"I'm twenty-one."

"Twnety one?!" multiple people exclaimed, fussing over how young (Y/N) was.

Her head was running wild, trying to take everything in. They were all asking her so many questions, some she could not answer. She spotted Bilbo attempting to calm them down, but he was too quiet.

"Let me put this into perspective, for all of you!" Gandalf snapped, causing silence."Dwarves are thought to reach maturity at the age of forty, for humans that is twenty. They live the same lives as many of us, just in a shorter time, which is why they always seem to be in a rush with everything."

"You need to be more careful lass." Dwalin announced.

"Yes, we really should be taking better care of you." Bofur agreed.

"I'll protect you (Y/N), I'm not scared!" Ori puffed out his chest.

This was followed by everyone's proclaimations of chivalry, all protesting over what they could do to make her feel safer. Instead of being offended or made to feel weak, she felt loved. She hadn't had many friends since her family died, and had been apprehensive to join a group of strangers. All of this was just too much, it was an emotional moment.

"You don't all have to worry about me. You know I can handle things myself." (Y/N) gushed.

"Doesn't mean you have to." Thorin said, though there was no warm expression on his face."Don't think you have to prove yourself and get you or someone else killed."

He slumped off after he spoke, leaving the company in silence once again. The conversation slowly built back up, the attention still on (Y/N), but Bilbo saw how she was getting upset. Gandalf smiled to himself as he watched the hobbit steer the topic of conversation away from her, glad to have someone with a level head.

Elsewhere, Thorin was leaning against a tree, his hands on his sword as a precaution. He heard footsteps, slow and heavy ones, and he only had to peak his head around the tree to spot Balin. The older dwarf sadly smiled, placing a hand on a tree to steady himself.

"You know, it's not wise to storm off by yourself." Balin half joked.

"I did not storm off."

"I think others might say different Thorin."

Thorin didn't reply.

"They might see it as your usual self. But I can see that look in your eye."

"And what look would that be?"

"You will deny it as soon as I speak it."

"I promise, I shall listen."

Balin raised an eyebrow at him, sighing before he spoke."You have grown fond of the girl. She's a fighter, she's kind and she's smart; (Y/N) didn't come on this quest for her own glory, she came to help us return home."

Thorin did stay silent, because he knew that Balin was right.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you can't let yourself fall for her. For one, you cannot be distracted whilst on this quest, two, she is a human and three...well, being a dwarf, you'll easily outlive her. We all will unfortunately."

"I won't."

"What?"

"I won't fall for her. I haven't been falling for her in the first place."

Balin knew this was the response he would receive. Even though Thorin was denying it, Balin could tell that in his head, he was still thinking about her. And that was a problem.

"You've been through enough pain Thorin. Don't bring more onto yourself." Balin left him with that, making his way back to the camp.

Although Thorin had removed himself from the camp to also remove a certain girl from his thoughts. They weren't sexual, or anything to do with love. He cared for her like a younger sister. Of course, he had been taken back by his beauty (dwarvish women could almost be mistaken for the men), but that wasn't important to him at the time. What Balin said about her was true. She was a selfless human, which was more than he could say about the rest of her kind. He hadn't known how short their lives were, and he wondered why she had chosen to live hers like this, with them. She could be exploring new places by herself, with no one to stop her. Perhaps she would meet another traveller on the way and fall in love, start her own family and move around the world just as her parents did. Though he wouldn't gain any answers like this, he wanted to ensure that she survived this journey, that she was there forbthe glory. She deserved as much as the dwarves this, and with that thought, he solemnly sweared to keep her alive.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 11

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1531

Warnings: Language, Bullying Themes

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Eyup my Loves! so it’s been a while since I last added to the story, I tried my best to keep my writing similar to my previous chapters, let me know what you all think! any advice or constructive criticism is welcome :) I’ll shush now, enjoy!

(This is what I Imagine Annetta to look like :) )

So, in case you were all wondering, the day didn’t get any better. I mean I kinda knew that kids my age could be massive A holes to each other, but I didn’t really expect to see it literally the flipping second I ‘walked’ through the doors. And by walked I mean dragged by the duo known as my own personal demons, or Steve and Bucky to the rest of the population.  A crowd of kids were all gathered around a row of lockers, loads of the shitheads were cheering and encouraging whatever the hell was goin’ on, and as I was about to find out it wasn’t a surprise performance by Frank Sinatra. Safe to say that was a bigger disappointment that diet coke. Anyway, what was I saying ? oh yeah, stood at the front of the crowd were a bunch of lasses that couldn’t of been older than 16, in their hands was a bunch of eggs and flour. At the bottom of their feet, on the floor, was a kid around the same age as me, her glasses were snapped in half and the bottom of to shirt was ripped, but what disgusted me the most was the fact she was begging for help as these girls smashed egg after egg into her face. You know how bulls lose their shit when they see somethin’ red? Yeah imagine that but 10x worse, the lads didn’t have time to stop me as I tore through the crowd ready to beat the ever-loving shit outta these pricks.

“‘OI! WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT ARE YOU DOIN’”  the crowd fell silent as the girls turned to me with what one can only assume was supposed to be a ‘threatening’ glare, if I’m being completely honest it looked like they’d all simultaneously crapped em self’s. One of the girls stepped forwards, she was only a tad taller than me, her hair was a bright red, her green eyes were narrowed at me like she couldn’t believe someone was actually talking back to her. I think this is the part where I yell surprise right ? no? okay then. “Not that I care, but who the hell do you think you are? You got any idea who I am?” she sneered at me, oh my god! I’ve found someone with a bigger ego than Bucky. How in the hell is that possible. “well from first glance I’da said Santa Clause’s ex-wife but I reckon he’d have a better taste in girls now I’ve seen you up close”. And que the outraged gasps from her minions in 3,2,1…. I could hear a few people laughin’ and if I weren’t mistaken a very loud “Oh Jesus wept” from barney boy. Oooh yeah that’s when I know I’m doing my job right.

“YOU BITCH!” she screamed at me, her grubby little hands started swinging towards me in such an exaggerated way it was almost funny, I mean come on anyone coulda seen that comin’ from a mile off. And like the genius I am, I literally just side stepped her as she lunged forward,  an’ from the look on her face she weren’t expecting that, it was like the world slowed down as she surged forward unable to stop herself. Well that was till she landed head -first in the bin. I’d be a big fat liar if I said I wasn’t on the floor dying from laughter. Her legs were flailing above her head as she struggled to pull herself outta there, her cronies tried to help by grabbing her legs but that ended with one of em sporting one heck of a shiner on her right eye. A small sniffle pulled my attention away from the rather hilarious sight, glancing behind me I saw the young lass still on the ground, holdin’ her glasses which were in half with tears rolling down her cheeks. “hey, it’s okay now, they’ve gone. Here take my hand, lets get ya cleaned up eh? Reckon they’re be a bathroom round here somewhere”. The lass didn’t say anything to me, only looking at me with apprehension before taking my outstretched hand and leading us to the bathroom, the sound of the crowd growing quieter as we moved further away from it. “Thanks for saving me from Monica, she’s been bullying me since we were 11, nobody’s ever stood up for me before.” Her voice was so quiet, it shook from the effort it took her to hold back her tears, and I admired her strength, not a lotta girls woulda gone this long and not tell a teacher. “Don’t worry about it mate, I’m sorry it took so long for someone to defend ya, my names y/n by the way, don’t think we’ve met” her brown eyes met mine, as a small smile spread across her face, I couldn’t really tell what colour her hair was but I’m guessing it’s a shade a brown,  other than that she looked like a completely normal person. “My names Annetta, you’re right we ain’t met yet but I’m glad we did”.

-Later that day

It took us ‘bout 30 minutes to get all the egg off Annetta, best we could do was wash it off and cover up the stains with the cardigan I leant her, but what really put the icing on the cake was the teacher in period 1 yellin’ at us for being so late. The temptation to yeet my shoe at someone had never been as strong as it was in that moment, fortunately for the overgrown turnip of a teacher I had to settle for a mean ass side eye. And man was it a mean one.

Apart from that the day had gone by with no more incidents, well unless you count me chasing Bucky round the canteen with a carton of milk for stealin’ half my lunch, much to Annetta’s entertainment and Steve’s embarrassment. I mean the butthole deserved it, nobody and I mean NOBODY messes with my lunch. Even blue-eyed boys with a smile that could charm the devil….what am I sayin’?!

ANYWAYS it’s now what? 4th period I think, which meant English with Annetta, and maybe my favourite boys in the world. Shakespeare and Charles Dickens. Bet ya thought I were gonna say Steve and Bucky right? Well they’re currently sat behind me debating who’d win in a fight, Popeye, or Bugs Bunny. I’m surrounded by idiots. Thankfully, the teacher walked into the classroom and saved me, Mrs Davis seemed like a nice woman, she had a friendly smile and roundish face, her hair tied back into a neat bun as she took a seat. Now I’ll save you the boring bits, she started the lesson with a pop quiz which was just plain rude, about halfway through it the door burst open and there stood my best friend in the entire world. Monica. I have to say I loved her new style, the schools P.E kit really brought out the judgement in her eyes, did you detect my sarcasm yet?.

You wanna know what made her entrance even more dramatic ? the lovely aroma of gone off milk and rotted banana skins that followed her around the room,  I could help the smirk on my face as everyone around me started gagging at the smell. If you ask me I reckon it’s an improvement, I mean she certainly captures the attention of everyone in the room. Monica’s face started to match her hair, quickly racing over to Mrs Davis to give her the tardy slip before taking her seat which just had to be across from me, whoopee for me. Eventually Mrs Davis got the attention back to her, carrying on with her lesson, which moved onto matching up the famous English literature quotes with the character and book. To be fair this was actually a load of fun for me, even if Steve butchered a line from Romeo and Juliet, I don’t remember Shakespeare saying, ‘ A rose by any other name would smell as bad’. The way I banged my head on the table made Annetta think I broke my neck. Fun times people.

Of course, my reaction didn’t escape Mrs Davis’s attention, just my luck eh?. “Miss y/n, seeing as you seem to know everything, answer me this. Elizabeth Bennet is a main character in a well-known book, she’s known for the quote ‘I am a no bird and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will’. The question is who is the author of this book is it A) Charles Dickens B) Jane Austen or C) Arthur Conan Doyle ?”. Is she being for real right now?. “Miss? With no disrespect the question itself is wrong, that wasn’t said by Elizabeth Bennet from pride and Prejudice, but said by Jane Eyre, and it was written by Charlotte Brontë”. A small smile spread across her face, which was confusing as all heck and a tad creepy to be honest, “very well-done Miss y/n, that’s the first time a student has gotten that question correct.”……

What in the name of ever-loving fluff just happened?….

So our girl is back and kicking butt! hopefully it’s not as bad as I think it is, and again I want to thank you all again for being so patient with me, good news is I’ve got the rest of the book written already! I’ll be posting them at least once a week.

Lots of love,

Rose xxx

[bertyose]

cannon death predictions for today’s war:

okay so first things first, lets talk about the one lives lads,

i feel like these guys will be okay (tommy, tubbo, quackity and philza). if someone was to die out of these guys it probably be tommy and/or tubbo. these guys story arcs have been going on for a long time now and they might want to have a break from all the roleplaying and such. they can still come to the smp as “ghosts” if they did die. but realistically i think no one is going to properly die, there might be some threats to take away their lives but i think they will be okay.

fundy, niki and ranboo

i think one of these guys might die. they were popping off yesterday with their lore, i’m really interested in their characters. but either way they are in trouble of death..

ranboo is being targeted by a few people, mainly quackity and kind of dream? quackity said he wouldnt kill ranboo but throught the whole festival quackity was out to get ranboo. he was targeting him with the armour and sent him death stares the moment ranboo was exposed. dream’s also being mr evil manipulator/gaslighter to ranboo which is b a d. ranboo has been here for over a month now, maybe its time for him to lose his first death ;)

niki, oh niki. i loved nikis story line yesterday. i want her to grab the guns and just go wild. let her go feral please. theres a part of me that wants niki to die so she can have a big plot moment but also i dont want her hurt. niki and ranboo are very good at acting so i just want them to get some good lines in the plot. but if niki was to die it would be after she shouts at everyone, shouts at tommy, shouts at dream, shouts at tubbo and someone goes “niki be quiet” and she goes no, i’ve had enough of being quiet. and then someone kills her because uh, reasons.

fundy is fighting against his exe fiancé, his uncle and his grandad. theres going to be some agnst with that. i kind of hope either philza or dream kills fundy or maybe techno. fundy is set on killing dream and techno but what if he goes to murder someone, he has the finishing shot on dream (or phil) but he hesitates. for a moment he’s unsure and is confused. in the moment of hesitation the other person strikes and kills fundy. poor fundy.

techno and dream

the gods of war and chaos. these two are going to bring hell to l’manberg. i am honestly so scared. dream and techno probably wont die but i have an idea of if they do.

the one way i can see techno dying is if he sacrifices himself for phil. we know phil has one life left and their friendship has lasted a long time so techno may give up one of his lives to protect philza. maybe an angry president has phil locked in a corner and techno comes to stand in the way, taking a finishing shot. thats the only way i see techno dying right now.

now dream.. if dream was to die it would be intentional. he would of planned it himself. it would be apart of his plan and no one elses. i dont see anyone killing dream, attempting to yes but not actually murdering him.

well theres my death predictions. im very excited for the wat, im also so so so scared. lets all hold hands and cry whilst we wait. sobs

/roleplay! also i hope you have a great day today :))

[jerryb2]

In my ongoing quest to create the ultimate Expanded Universe® Grand Master® Luke Skywalker® Lightsaber® (shut up, that’s totally my latest quest 👀), here we have some side-by-side pics of the ROTJ Luke V2 & V3 sabers, as well as the MK1 for scale and reference.

I’ve just recently added the blade plug to the V3, as well as replacing the original D-Ring on the pommel with one that has a more rounded shape, which I personally think looks better. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. 😎

Breaking character for a moment though; ever since I learned about the different versions of Luke’s Lightsaber I’ve been sort of mulling over a metanarrative that I’d like to share (this’ll take a while, so strap in):

For those that might not know, Luke’s lightsaber from Return of the Jedi has a complicated history, to say the least; there are actually multiple screen-used lightsaber props for Luke in ROTJ. If nothing else, this simple fact serves as a testament to the sheer disorganization of the early Star Wars films. In general, movie scenes are rarely shot in sequential order - in fact, they’re shot in an order that’s the most cost-effective. Pressed for time, and shooting the climactic throne room duel with Darth Vader early in the production, the prop department was forced to re-purpose several "stunt sabers" and turn them into on-camera props. These were originally FX/stunt sabers for Ben Kenobi (the MK1) in ANH, and that had since been repurposed so that the actors could practice with them. There’s some really neat footage out there of Mark Hamill and Bob Anderson (Vader’s stunt double) practicing the fight from ESB where Mark is actually using the V2. This led to the V2, V3, Yuma and later, the Hero versions of the same (technically) lightsaber. This also goes a long way to explain why Luke & Ben’s sabers have such a similar profile. How did no one notice this for literally decades? Well, when you take into account that there was no such thing as a high-definition picture, as well as the fact that most kids watched the OT on VHS tapes in the late 80′s and early 90′s, you can start to see why the filmmakers weren’t too worried about smaller details like that. 

It was a different time - and in that way - worse. 

If we look at the V2 (that is, the one with the gaffer tape around the neck and the overall aesthetic of ‘let’s just get this over with’) we see something that fits the part it played in ROTJ; a weapon made by a burgeoning Jedi Knight, who was probably just glad that it didn’t blow up in his face when he hit the activation plate. For my money though, I’d say that this is Luke’s saber for only a few days to a week, at most. 

For anyone who hasn’t read Shadows of the Empire, here’s a brief aside; Luke built his lightsaber using plans he found in Ben Kenobi’s Hut on Tatooine, hence an in-universe reason why the sabers look so similar. After losing to Vader on Cloud City, Luke and his allies spent the next several months recuperating and making plans to rescue Han from Jabba the Hutt. During this time, Luke was able to scrounge the parts necessary to build his new lightsaber; a high-energy reflector cup, diatium power cell and a focusing lens, etc. The only thing he needed to complete his blade was the main crystal. Due to a lack of resources (thanks to Old Palpy himself), Luke was forced to use a synthetic crystal. After a solid month of work, he finally completed his saber and it’s here where we more-or-less meet the narrative of the film. There are dozens of pictures that depict Luke fighting on the sail barge, on Endor and on the Second Death Star - and in the vast majority of them, he’s holding the V2.

So where does the V3 come in, within the context of this story? 

Well, after the conclusion of ROTJ and the events of the next several days as depicted in The Truce at Bakura, I would imagine that Luke took some time to reevaluate his saber. Maybe it had begun to malfunction? Maybe the insulation wasn’t properly protecting the power source from the superconductor after all? Or maybe he was just slightly embarrassed that his (not-so) shiny new Jedi weapon had a strip of tape holding it together? The point is, I would imagine that he probably made a trip or two down to the ol’ hangar bay and had a chat with one of the chief mechanics, who was then able to procure some slightly higher-quality components.

The gaff tape is outta there; it doesn’t provide proper insulation and it just doesn’t befit the only Jedi Knight left in the whole galaxy. After the insulator was properly (re)installed, it’s conceivable that Luke took the neck to a milling machine and polished it to expose the metal underneath, revealing its copper-brass color. For that matter, Luke probably gave the whole thing a good once over with some steel wool. Now at least it doesn’t look like a Bantha shat it out after an evening meal. And as it turns out, with proper dimetris circuitry, he doesn’t need the nipple on top of the emitter to stabilize the blade, so he just removed it.

That’s the way it probably stayed for several years; it looked more polished and was properly functional. It would still have the long clamp lever and the unique circuit card over the activation plate, as well as the cone knob and mystery chunk, but we’re already starting to look more like the V3. Then we get to the Thrawn Campaign and shortly after, Operation Shadow Hand with the reborn Emperor. After these threats had passed, we do know (via The Jedi Academy Trilogy) that Luke spent some time contemplating his place/role in the galaxy - it was shortly after this that he decided to establish the Jedi Praxeum on Yavin IV, after all. 

By now the clamp lever is getting a bit sad; probably more trouble that it’s worth to replace just the clamp lever, so why not replace the whole thing? And that clamp card is pretty grotty, so it’s time to fix that. And I would imagine that he would be a bit tired of having the cone knob & mystery chunk cutting into his hand (I can relate, fam) so let’s just rework that booster. What we come away with is something that looks almost bang-on like the stock Rudy Pando V3; no emitter nipple, copper wind vane, new activation card and clamp, and no extra greeblies. 

From then on his saber stays pretty much the same for a couple of decades....until he recovers it from UnuThul/Lomi Plo after The Dark Nest crisis. 

Now, because we know that Luke did build a replacement after UnuThul confiscated his first saber (one which apparently looked almost identical to his OG saber - sure, okay, Troy Denning), I think this is where the Hero saber enters the narrative. Most likely only a short time after he claimed the title of Grand Master of the Order (around the time when the Jedi were preparing to launch an all-out attack on the Dark Nest and thus the newly minted GM would need a functioning saber), I’d like to think that Luke let his natural mechanical ability and technical knowhow run a bit wild - he builds a very close facsimile of his saber, but this time with a proper control box and indicator lights, better basic construction, etc. Once he recovered his original saber, I don’t think it would be out of the question for him to carry over a few design tweaks he had just made with the Hero. Notably, he added back the nipple on the emitter - in the long run, it’s just better to have it since it prevents power bleed-off (or something - lads, I’m literally pulling all of this out of me arse) and more than anything, because it improves the overall profile. And on top of that, it looks like he added some mesh coverings to some of the heat venting ports(?), probably to prevent grime or dirt from building up over time. Smart man, that Luke Skywalker.

And at last, we have arrived at the construction we see in the pictures above; this is (for me) Luke’s saber as he carries it in his duels with both Darth Cadeus & Lumiya, when he goes into (more-or-less) self-imposed exile and through to when he confronts Abeloth and eventually becomes one with the Force.

This has been my TED Talk. Thank you for coming. 😅

Oh, and because I suspect that some of the more eagle-eyed readers out there will be wondering - where does the Yuma fit into all this? Well hey, this is my metanarrative. Go make your own. 😉

[mearchy]

Swords in Writing: Common Mistakes

Today we are going to be talking about general truisms that many might not know about when attempting to write a historical story with swords. Because I mostly see European swords written about, and thus that is where I see the most inaccuracies, this is going to be European-focused. 

- Swords didn’t weigh a lot. Yes, I have also read a hundred fantasy series that go on and on and on and on and on about how f****ng heavy that dude’s sword is and how the main character can barely hold it up, but 98% of the time, that just wasn’t true. Swords needed to be carried by soldiers, usually alongside a shield, for both the battle, the campaigns, and other travels. That’s the main reason swords had a fuller- to reduce weight without reducing strength. Here is a GREAT post talking about the actual weights of different medieval European weapons. Dm for more resources on other weapon weights.

-  “Longsword” refers specifically to a two-handed sword, like a Zweihänder or a Claymore. “Broadsword” does not refer to a specific type of sword, and has no historical usage in any language to refer to big swords. This basket-hilted sort of blade is the only type of sword that has ever been known to be called a broadsword, and it’s definitely not what you think of when you hear the word. When people say “broadsword” they usually mean “longsword.” If you want to be historically accurate, do not mix these two up.

- Two-handed swords were almost always used for thrusting. You attack and parry a bit until you find access to a weak point in the armor, where you thrust forward into it and hope that you’ve damaged something vital. I have no idea why so many tv shows/movies need to have a dude with a big longsword diagonally slashing his merry way through a bunch of other dudes. Longswords aren’t great for slashing. Also... historically, nobody would use a longsword during a time period where no one is wearing plated/metal armor. Longswords evolved specifically in response to plate armor, because they are meant for thrusting. 

- Swords needed maintenance. All swords. They needed constant care and cleaning. They needed to be oiled regularly, with different ways of caring for them depending on the time period, what they were made of, and what you were protecting them against (someone on a ship with seawater would protect their sword differently than someone in a desert with sun and sand). On top of this, blood is highly corrosive; it wears away at many metals used for making swords, so anyone who used a sword for fighting would make it mandatory to clean the blood off their sword after every battle. If your character has left a non-magical sword in a trunk for 15 years and then decides to pull it out to use again, it’s going to need to undergo cleaning and repair. It won’t be fit for hard use right away.

- Swords were relatively delicate. With medieval longswords or rapiers, people would parry blows by dodging, deflecting the opposing weapons, or landing the blow on the flat of their blade. If they did not do this, their weapons would become basically serrated from the edge cracking and chipping on each hard impact. Every time I read or watch a fight where the sword blades hit each other edge on edge, I cringe. It is worth noting that some lesser known swords, like hangar cutlasses, did not use the flat of the blade to parry, and thus would purportedly become saw-toothed after a particularly hard battle. THIS LEADS TO MY NEXT POINT

- People would rarely practice/spar with real swords. Swords were delicate, required maintenance, and vitally, were expensive to repair or replace. Practice swords (which look like blunted swords, this one is 16c.) were created specifically for this purpose, though people who couldn’t afford to be equipped with formal practice swords would often have used sticks or lightweight metal rods. 

- Being good and staying good at fighting with a sword requires lots of practice. For someone who’s been doing it a long time, it is true that a lot of it is muscle memory. But like learning a language, in order for your skills to stay sharp - even for someone who’s very experienced - old drills need to be revisited regularly, and you’d need to be challenging yourself in order to maintain your skill level, or else you will lose proficiency. Someone who takes up the sword for the first time in ten years will not have the same level of practical skills they did when they put it down. 

It is worth noting that there have been sword-bearers in history who didn’t have the means or structure for formal sword training (I’m thinking specifically of pirates for example), and they fought their sword battles more like brawls, pommeling each other and grabbing each others’ blades and generally relying on desperation/bloodlust to win. There are also many dirty tricks an inexperienced swordsman who is clever can use to win a duel (sand in the eyes, etc). Those are ways your character might sword fight without training/regular practice. 

Anyway, I am but a simple young lad who looks up stuff about swords in their free time. If I’ve made a mistake, please send me aggressive hate mail about it (with citations). 

[tenmillionwhumperflies]

Cloudwalker Series Part 21

Did I whump the beans? Yes, am I sorry? No. I like this one and there’s a lot of oofs.

Warnings: Descriptions of wounds, blood, blood magic/rituals, panicked characters, being restrained while a loved one gets whumped.

Masterlist Here

Approx WC: 2600

Dyan’s scream was enough to startle the horses in their stable some distance away. In that moment, he didn’t care. “Blue!” Dyan rushed towards him and dropped down beside him, not caring about his own pain that jarred his body from the sudden impact.

Avizon limped over to him and knelt down carefully. Blue was laying face down, so Avizon quickly checked his pulse. “He’s still alive. Help me with him.” He and Dyan hadn’t even been able to turn him over before Orrien arrived, panting for breath and wide eyes. Dyan guessed it was because he’d screamed. But seeing him so panicked did nothing for Dyan’s fear.

“Blue! Get back, Dyan, let me through,” Orrien ordered. Dyan could only obey, shuffling back as fast as he could until his back hit the wall and even then he tried to go back another inch. He couldn’t stop staring in shock. He whimpered. He wanted to hold Blue, to help, but there was nothing he could do. He had to hope these humans could do enough. If he lost Blue… No, no he couldn’t lose his friend.

He watched as Orrien turned Blue over with care, supporting his head. Dyan noted Blue’s sickly complexion, the way his chest barely rose and fell. Orrien swore, and Dyan soon saw why. The bite mark the other cloudwalker had left. It looked… well, he didn’t even know what could cause such a thing. It was dark and looked painful. It was like a burnt piece of wood.

“That’s dark magic,” Avizon said almost immediately. “How on Earth has he gotten dark magic in him?! The other cloudwalker? But they’re creatures of light.” Blue coughed feebly and Orrien tensed, seeing ink-black liquid escape the corner of his mouth. They quickly adjusted him, turning him on his side. Orrien gently stroked his hair before he seemed to realise it. He grimaced.

“This isn’t just dark magic, this is something else, stronger… this is evil, pure evil. An abyss compared to your magic.”

Avizon suddenly threw his head up to stare at Dyan with wide eyes for a moment. It was like he’d realised something. He rushed over to Dyan which made him squeak and cower in the corner. He couldn't help but panic. He expected master to be mad, to hit him because he’d failed to protect Blue and this was all his fault. This was all his fault and he was going to get punished- he deserved to be punished!

“I’m sorry!” he cried, bracing, which yanked Avizon back like he was on a rope. “What? Dyan, you don’t need to be sorry, please come here. We don’t have the time, I’m sorry little bird, I have to make sure you’re-”

“Take the time,” Orrien instructed. “Dyan, what are you sorry for? Do you know what happened?” Dyan whimpered. “I. I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him and keep him safe. I’m sorry p.please don’t be mad. I tried so hard, please...” Avizon sighed softly and wiped a tear out of Dyan’s eye. Dyan braced again, but Avizon simply began to remove one of his bandages, hushing him gently. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad, but you were bitten too, and I need to make sure you’re not hurting like that. I’m sorry for startling you. We have to act fast, that’s all. Dyan, I could never punish you for something like that.”

Dyan whimpered and Avizon mumbled reassurances in a bid to quickly calm him. The bandages came away to reveal Dyan’s bite mark, seeing darkness at the edges of the puncture wounds, but it was nothing compared to Blue’s. “It seems Dyan’s magic is protecting him enough…” “Blue also got bit first,” Orrien said. “It could be a number of things.”

Avizon grimaced, taking a moment to cup Dyan’s cheek to give him comfort. Dyan leaned into it and whimpered, craving it. He was just so scared. “We have to find that cloudwalker. I need to understand how this came about, how it happened. Until then, the best I can do is try to absorb this magic.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Orrien retorted. “That’s far too dangerous.” Dyan couldn’t believe how Orrien spoke to Avizon. It didn’t feel right seeing and hearing his master not being in charge.

Avizon simply shrugged. “I’ve done worse, and Blue needs me to take that risk. Another way is to burn it out with light magic, perhaps, but it will take a lot and could kill him. I should be able to take it without risk-”

Orrien exclaimed, “And it will make you a cruel bastard again. That magic is so strong it might not let you give it up. Avizon, I can’t let you!” “If you’d let me finish, I can store it, trap it into something. I will be able to get rid of it, my magic is strong, and darkness loves to spread. It will go to a new host. I can’t let these birds die!”

Dyan whimpered and curled up in his wings. His fear was bubbling in his chest. Master was scared, he’d panicked Dyan already and now he was saying they could die… this was too much for him to process all at once. Avizon swore, realising his mistake. “It’s going to be alright, Dyan. I’m sorry, don’t be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you. But I need your help, we have to find that cloudwalker, I won’t keep him, I won’t hurt him, but I have to understand what happened.”

Dyan nodded slowly, trying to fight all that fear back for now. He had to help Blue. His own panic wasn’t important right now. “Um… I. I don’t know how I can help.” “Call for help, see if you can get him to come here,” Avizon answered.

Dyan bit his lip, but went outside to do as his master asked. He hoped he didn’t get attacked again. His hands were shaking, and it felt wrong of him to do such a thing, to trick a cloudwalker, but for Blue, he’s do anything, and he trusted his master to not hurt him.

He called out, once, twice, three times. He was surprised to find Ihuka rushing towards him, but then he paused, seeing that Dyan wasn’t in any danger.

“We have to talk to the cloudwalker,” Dyan said quickly. “Blue is dying, we have to talk to them and find a way!" He decided to leave out the fact he could be next.

Ihuka nodded and called out, which was far louder and better than Dyan’s. Dyan eventually stopped, letting Ihuka do the work until finally, finally, the cloudwalker appeared. Dyan tensed and couldn't help but step back in fear. “What do you want?” he hissed. His black hair was still long, but the shackle scars on his wrists made it clear he had not been free all his life. His eyes carried an unnatural reddish grow which made Dyan feel uneasy. 

Dyan opened his mouth to speak, but Avizon had grabbed the cloudwalker with his powers. He shrieked and tried to get away but Avizon was not letting him go. He dragged him into the barn, restrained, and forced him to kneel in front of Blue, seeing the damage he had left behind by attacking the innocent lad as Orrien would call him.

“How do you have this magic?” Avizon asked, he looked at Dyan and nodded as a prompt for him to translate. Dyan did so. “The same reason that everything we are is broken!” the cloudwalker shrieked. “Humans! Hurting us, separating us, using horrible magic on us that makes our venom black and stops us hunting and makes us starve! Humans destroy EVERYTHING!”

Dyan trembled but still translated it word for word and Avizon frowned. “Someone is corrupting you?... what is the name of this human? Please, we want to help.”

Dyan translated again and added a plea. He cared about Blue. He didn't want to lose him. These were good humans, they could help, they could protect them or maybe even stop the human. The cloudwalker snarled, but all the same, he screwed up his face.“B.Boruk?... Borg...”

Avizon didn’t need to hear anymore. He clenched his fist. “Borgurk… I should have known!” he ground out. “Keep your head,” Orrien warned.

Avizon went to the back of his cart and found a small glass vial. “Don’t be afraid, I just need to see your venom,” he said to the cloudwalker. The cloudwalker bared his teeth, but Avizon only used that as a means of getting the vial under his canine. “Shhhhh, it’s alright. I’m going to help you.” Dyan couldn't believe how fearless Avizon was being. To just walk up to the cloudwalker that had come close to killing Blue and himself.

Avizon began to gently massage a spot on the back of the cloudwalkers jaw, under his ear until it whined and several droplets of black liquid began to appear. “Orrien, see if that liquid is coming from Blue's teeth.” Orrien carefully opened Blue’s mouth to look. “No, it’s the back of his throat. Southern cloudwalkers have venom glands, but they're not actually usable. He can't make venom. This is different, it must be in his organs..."

Avizon kept working, coaxing more venom out, but he knew he was playing with time, something Blue was rapidly running out of. Dyan didn’t understand why he needed the venom when Blue was laying on the floor dying, but he trusted him. Avizon looked up at the cloudwalker and paused, seeing their eyes, seeing the redness.

"Don’t tell me… Fire fever… you're running out of light magic- it's killing you,” he exclaimed to the creature who only glared at him. “Being a cloudwalker must protect you from most of the symptoms. The dark magic is going bad, rotting, it's killing him- that's why Blue is in such a bad way. It's magic decay!"

Avizon looked over to Ihuka, “Bring me some eggs. Eggs, Ihuka.” Ihuka nodded quickly and disappeared. Dyan had taught him what eggs were during their stay. Dyan was now very glad he did.

Dyan inched over to Avizon and said "W.what's magic decay?"

Avizon spared a glance to Dyan and began to explain. "Dark magic isn't meant to be in a human- or a cloudwalker. It rots, and it can kill whoever is using it if it's not used and managed properly. When it's not used, it becomes physical; it becomes like a magic infection. It's killing this cloudwalker and he doesn't know it. It's infected his venom, so when he bit Blue, it passed on a lot of that 'infection' to him… and onto you."

Dyan gulped. He didn't like this at all, he didn't want to die, he didn't want Blue to die.

"It's going to be alright, Dyan, I swear. I'm not letting you go," Avizon promised. “I will fix this no matter what it takes.”

Once he had enough of the venom, he put the cork on it and looked at a cut Dyan had given the bird the day before. It was still bleeding. That would do. Ihuka returned with the eggs, and Avizon managed to get him to put them on the floor beside him. “Eggs… Avizon, you’ve gone mad.” “Oh, I went mad a long time before this. Orrien, make sure everyone keeps their distance. I have an idea.”

Orrien picked Blue up and carried him up to the back of the barn. Ihuka and Dyan followed.

Avizon looked down at the scared bird in front of him and hushed him before he closed his eyes and put his hand over the bleeding wound. Dyan stared with wide eyes as he mumbled and drew what looked like black smoke out of the cloudwalkers body. The cloudwalker screamed in pain but Avizon didn't stop. He kept pulling, dragging more and more smoke out of him.

Dyan wanted to turn away but he was frozen in place, staring as Avizon drew it all out. Avizon’s eyes were red, cherry red and blood slipped down his cheeks from his eyes. Dyan whimpered and watched as Avizon took the egg in one hand and wiped the blood from his cheek with one finger. He drew a symbol on the egg with the blood and then groaned in pain. The smoke that was swirling around Avizon slowly went into the egg, which caused Avizon pain. 

Finally, it was done, and the egg now looked like a lump of coal. Avizon looked exhausted and the cloudwalker had fallen unconscious. Avizon released the bird from his power and set him down on a pile of straw to sleep it off.

"By the gods, Avizon…" Orrien mumbled, staring in half shock, half horror. "Blood magic now as well…"

"I know… I'm not proud of it, but if it saves him, then I'll do what I must. Eggs work temporarily, as a means of getting the power out into a container. But they don’t last. You need to destroy them anyway so it won’t be a problem."

Avizon picked up an egg and staggered over to Blue and knelt down.

"Same again." He took another egg that Ihuka had brought and put it by his side. "I need him to bleed. A small cut will do it. Here."

Orrien took his knife from his belt and with a grimace nicked at Blue's skin right by the bite mark, drawing a slightly heavier breath from Blue's sleeping body. Blood began to trickle, and then Orrien stepped back, keeping the birds back.

"Mind Dyan," Avizon warned in advance before he began to draw out the darkness.

Dyan shook as he watched Avizon cause pain to Blue. Even if it was saving him, he hated seeing it. Blue cried out, somehow dragged into consciousness. Avizon ignored how he tried to bite and scratch him out of instinct. He held firm, clenching his teeth til he thought they'd break.

Dyan's body acted before he could stop himself. He lunged forward but Orrien was quick and wrapped him in a tight hug from behind. "No, Dyan! It has to happen. I know it's awful, but it has to happen. Stay strong, lad."

Dyan tried to drown out the screams, not even realising he’d started to cry until there was suddenly silence. Avizon finally had it all. Blue dropped down motionless again. Dyan wanted to get to him, but he was surprised when Ihuka stood in front of him and opened his wings, cutting off his vision.

"Dyan… stay," he said weakly. “Rest.”

Dyan shrunk down onto his knees and cried. He hated this! He just wanted to get to Blue. He wanted to hold him and see if he was okay and offer him comfort, but Orrien still held him.

He tried to push past them again, but Orrien clamped a hand on his forehead. "Sleep."

Dyan clenched his teeth and battled against the spell. He didn't know how he did it, he just couldn't sleep right now. He found the strength in him to resist the order and he fought it with everything he had.

Orrien tried again but Dyan was determined. "Let me get to him," he ground out. "I… I have to…" "How strong is your magic?! Sleep!" Orrien strained.

This time Dyan wasn't quite able to hold off against the massive wave that took over him but he tried all the same. He slowly succumbed to sleep despite his efforts to stay awake. He reached out for Blue and whimpered before everything faded away.

Ftr if the whole magic thing didn’t make sense I’d be happy to explain it or answer any questions. I have those ask games open still too.

[softschofield]

a guide to the secondary characters of 1917

inspired by @a-beautiful-struggle-of-life because saying “i wanna fall in love with all these characters too omg” is just such an open invitation and i couldn’t resist ♡♡♡

sergeant sanders: “yes, well, sorry to disrupt your crowded schedule, blake, but the brass hats didn’t fancy it in the snow.” the sergeant of blake and scho’s platoon. the one to first introduce us to our boys so we have to love him for it

lieutenant gordon: “a couple of little treats.” he’s soft. i love him. he’s just the hype man of erinmore, like does he want to agree with another one of his proverbs? another one of his quotes? another one of his shakespearean monologues that he learned off by heart at eton? no. he’s so tired. he doesn’t want to hear another fancy sentence in his life. “wouldn’t you say, lieutenant?” he wants to say i could not possibly give a smaller fuck, sir, but can he? no. let him sleep

sergeant: “YOU’RE GOING UP A DOWN TRENCH YOU BLOODY IDIOTS” he doesn’t have a name but MAN did he have a cultural impact. like he changed my world with that line. the delivery? the poise? the hint of a snarl? no one else could ever and i’m afraid that’s just the facts. he was probably mad because he just had a tiff with leslie and he got the day of the week wrong. he thought he had it this time. he didn’t. he never does 

private kilgour: a bloody waste of space. THE softest boy. somehow managed a perfect :o in real life. how did he do it? no one knows. dermatologists HATE him. owns a cute scarf that he's managed to actually keep clean. probably has a blanket stashed somewhere. he’s just so, so gentle, he deserves nothing but good

lieutenant leslie: “for any sins thou hast committed.” you already know. you already KNOW. every time i saw this film there was someone who whispered “moriarty!” the first time it was me. he’s just so tired. a lieutenant shouldn’t be in command of a company. everyone is dead. his only friends are the orderlies he forces to hang out with him in his smelly dugout because all the other officers are in bits and pieces. the orderlies are trapped. they can’t escape him. gallows humour. he just needs a rest. we love him. was absolutely checking schofield out for the majority of their scene together. i've written about how they absolutely seem to have history and i'll say it again: they do. gay

the idiot who thought it was tuesday: one of the orderlies that leslie is holding prisoner solely to bully. when no one else is around they probably cuddle while leslie has a cry and the idiot who thought it was tuesday (TIWTIWT) comforts him and tells him he can do it

private atkins: “hey, it’s alright, it’s okay.” one of the two to find scho trying to haul blake’s body along. the gentlest giant. parry’s back-up, like he looks like he’d be in charge because he’s all big and tough-looking but then weedy, hot-headed little parry is the one doing the talking and atkins is just hovering behind him being soft. loves and supports his friends. they remind me so much of an iconic cartoon duo but i just can’t put my finger on it, but you just know they’d get into mischief because of parry and atkins is just “i don’t know about this” but of course he goes along with it

private parry: “you alright, mate?” he single-handedly made everyone in the cinema jump when some random english guy suddenly spoke when no one else was supposed to be around. he’s tiny but in charge and we truly do love to see it. lowkey feral vibes. you just know he’s a little bit chaotic and snarky and he’d challenge anyone twice his size to a fight, but he’s also gentle and worries about schofield so much when he doesn’t know him at all and i Love him the very most  

captain smith: “it doesn’t do to dwell on it.” the dad. the warmest, most calming dad. gives great hugs. he’s tired because he has to spend all his time trying to keep parry and cooke apart because if they ever met and conspired all hell would quite literally break out, like they’d be too powerful together and he knows it. has a cane for the aesthetic. he’s completely traumatised but he has to keep it together for personal pride and for his boys

colonel collins: “they at least could have retreated with a bit of grace, BASTARDS.” i quote him daily. he truly is just the stuff of legends. we love to see it 

colonel collins’ driver: “no, sir.” if he and lieutenant gordon ever met they wouldn’t even speak, they’d just fall asleep on each other. they’re both so exhausted by their superiors. when will they be free

private rossi: “welcome aboard the night bus to fuck knows where.” we love him!!!!!! we really do love him!!!!!!! scottish. soft. he and jondalar are best friends and jondalar teases him constantly. genuinely lovely, observant, empathetic. he talks about the pointlessness and bleakness of what they’re doing when no one else dares think on it too much in case they break down and i love him for it. probably goes home to become a war poet

private cooke: “HERE, DRIVER, HOW ABOUT YOU TRY TO KEEP IT ON THE BLOODY ROAD FOR A CHANGE” ABSOLUTE feral vibes. he’s just a public menace and we love him

private butler: “alright, alright, keep your ‘air on.” i really do just love him. he’s the one who tells the story about scott and beaufoy and eventually rallies everyone together to help scho push the truck, but to me he’s better known for being the scrawny little icon with the especially prominent red x on his sleeve and the moustache who’s just so GRUMPY all the time. like why is he so GRUMPY? i love him

sepoy jondalar: “i hope you get there.” it’s recognised in the script that he did the best impersonation of beaufoy, we love to see him excelling. gentle. loves schofield with his entire heart and he’s only just met him. there are a few iconic duos in this film - scho and blake, parry and atkins, bäumer and deserving more - and jondalar and rossi are one of them

private malky: “you could do with a new set.” my FAVOURITE!!!! the script says rossi says that line but i am CONVINCED it’s malky and i will stand by that. sounds like george harrison from the beatles. a soft lad who quietly teases cooke TWICE in one and a half pages with the most bashful kinda voice. he and cooke are another iconic duo. i love him so, so much. gay. they all are but malky especially. all the gays ride in that truck, that’s why smith, The Gay Dad, chose to put scho in with them

driver: “oh, piss off.” he and cooke have an iconic dynamic and it’s only one line long. you just know cooke is always giving him shit, it’s a running gag that’s famous throughout the whole company 

lauri: “chil-dren? you?” the queen of deserving more. she’s only something like 17 and she’s probably an orphan raising another orphan. if you’ve seen 1917 and don’t love her with your whole entire soul then you get shot on sight, like i literally do not make the rules. the softest, strongest girl. a lesbian

private bäumer: “ENGLÄNDER!” the king of not keeping his goddamn mouth shut. at least two people in this fandom ship him with kilgour and i am one of them. a soft twink. i love him. if he weren’t dying he would have loved being straddled by scho and i can’t blame him for that

private müller: “bäumer? BÄUMER!” the one who was throwing up. he’s like kat from all quiet on the western front, the older veteran who takes the fresh recruits under his wing. he did not deserve to lose bäumer like that and honestly the grief in his voice when he realises what’s happened HAUNTS me. i really do love him so much. he felt guilty about deserting. he had so much depth like every other character who was barely on screen for half a scene and i hope he made it out of the war and did okay

private seymour: “well he’s not one of ours.” i just love his accent, i’m sorry this one is purely selfish. but i do love him so much, he was instantly ready to LITERALLY pick scho up and just take him with them and that’s pretty iconic. like he was just going to adopt this random, half-drowned soldier who showed up out of nowhere with no rifle or helmet or pack. his now

lieutenant richards: “what the HELL are you doing, lance corporal?” my FAVOURITE secondary character. like i say that about all of them, but i love him, lauri, malky, rossi, and parry THE most. honestly has some of the most iconic moments in the whole film. that squint he does at scho after “what?”? the stuff of oscars. he loved scho so much. the fact that he so desperately wanted to believe that what he was saying was true breaks my heart. genuinely such a good person. i love him. he and captain smith are husbands and dads with a bunch of idiot children

major hepburn: “well done, lad.” he’s like, an actual disney character. like his face, his voice, they just scream disney side character. like a good version of the guy from the princess and the frog. i love him so much. he’s so kind

medical officer: “i have NO idea. move along, lance corporal” I JUST LOVE HIM!!!!! he’s so cranky!!!!! get him some scissors!!!!

[sassaetcie]

The Ashes of the Oven : Silver x Idia as a play with Lilia as the main actor

I really wanted to experiment writing a play since it’s really good to practice on dialogues and how relevant each words are to characters once uttered, but I’ve barely ready Sebek’s stories so... I guess I wasn’t that good in the end, but hope you’ll enjoy the first 3rd scenes anyway!

                                                      Scene I

LILIA VANROUGE: Please enter, please do enter, pray enter.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT: Is it truly alright for Silver to come into OUR dorm with the leader of another dorm, though?! I mean! Is it truly the best solution to this situation, Father?

LILIA: Pray, let this aside, your line is useless here, young lad. Silver is coming in with his, hm... soulmate, if I may say so. Let us show some courtesy, fufu. It is not everytime we get to witness true romance in reality, and especially a romance of the romances... Don't you find this beautiful, Sebek?

SEBEK: If you say so, Father...

LILIA: You will understand what I meant someday. Or perhaps you will not. Maybe it is better if you do not need to scratch this truth till you find this very truth, this very ugly truth. Truth is, after all, but another one facing change.

SEBEK: I hear them... IjusthopeShroudwon'tbeinsultingtowardLordMalleusorhewillfacemyrageforsureandbyragetheoneoftheworld.

                                                        Scene II

SILVER: Well... Good afternoon, old... Vice Dorm head, Sebek.

IDIA SHROUD: Eeeer... G-good afternoon... Vice Dorm head, Zigvolt...

LILIA: Well, pray call me Lilia, young Shroud. This title is one among others, and I may end up lost, fufu. And it would not be welcoming of us if you were to still face an exact hierarchy as we supposedly welcome you into our dorm. Shall I name... call you Idia? Calling someone by their parent's name can be as restrictive, I must say, but the choice is yours.

IDIA: O-oh... s-s-s-sure... I don't mind. I think?

MALLEUS DRACONIA: Hm, welcome, welcome. It is the first time you venture into our dorm, isn't it, Idia?

IDIA: Eeek! Y-y-yeah! It's not like I could have come here anyway... I mean, probably, considering how may work the mirrors and all... But it's not like I had business here anyway s-s-so...

SEBEK: Thinking you can break into your dorm just because...!!!

SILVER: Calm down, Sebek...

LILIA: As Silver said, please do not let rage corrupt you, Sebek.

SEBEK: But!!! He SHOWED clear hostility toward our dorm!!!

MALLEUS: Whatever, we barely have this kind of behavior around. For you are Silver's... beloved, I think? And since you seem to share some of my... bothers, I shall forgive you.

SEBEK: So Gracious... Our Master truly is Gracious... No, Graciousness should beg for its name in front of our Young Lord!

LILIA: So, dear Silver, have you come in order to present us your already known Dear one?

SILVER: I thought it was an usual thing to present one's love to a family...

LILIA: Well, this is what I used to read you when you were but a tiny lad, after all. It is not like we had that much different books, no matter how many we could grasp in our domain. I guess it truly shaped the inner parts of your skull, or perhaps carved... Fufu, whatever. I am honored.

SILVER: Wait, does that mean you've technically failed our education by reading us only one kind of literature...?

SEBEK: SILVEEEEEER!

LILIA: I apologize, Sebek, since Silver is right. I have indeed partially failed if you have come to think presenting Idia to us was mandatory... However, like I said, I am honored. Perhaps I would have thought of another failing if I had not met your beloved like this.

SEBEK: Let's stop talking in front of a potential enemy...!

IDIA: I mean if you hate me that much, I can go away, I have several raids to attend, lol. I was there for Silver and out of respect since Malleus... Draconia always had that cool vibe and so does Lilia, but if you don't respect me, don't even expect me to respect you, gehehe.

SILVER: See, you're being disrespectful again, Sebek... Idia isn't a goddamn enemy, for f... For real.  Shouldn't we follow our old man's wish and try to befriend instead of being agressive everyday, every minute, every second?

LILIA: I am glad you remember this, Silver. I would indeed like if Sebek were to be a bit less... zealous, although zealous definitely is not the term but whatever, a word can be another here.

MALLEUS: And for this, we shall pardon Idia's several arrogant lines, which were but answers to Sebek... To Sebek. Let us be at peace, be peaceful and talk.

SILVER: Yes, let's talk.

SEBEK: Let us... talk.

LILIA: Let us chat.

MALLEUS: Let us talk indeed.

SEBEK: Maybe Idia should try to challenge the young Lord to chess to see if he can last more than one turn... No, no way he could win against our great Lord!!!!! Silver, fight him!!!

SILVER: Sebek, please... Why are you just being so agressive, dammit...

SEBEK: I am not being agressive! I barely want to ensure he will fit... you! And the family!

LILIA: Oh?

SILVER: What do you mean again, Sebek...

IDIA: You're behaving like I will have r-r-responsibilities toward the family, what the fuck...

SEBEK: But you will!?! Do you really expect to... to...! To wed my brother, although not by blood but by soul, my brother although not by kin, my brother!!! As if you will only live a peaceful dream?!

IDIA: 'twas the plan, yeah? Lol...

LILIA: Sebek.

SEBEK: Huh! F-Father? Have I said something wrong...?

LILIA: Once again, you are pushing on Idia your own ideals. As I said before, I am glad to see my children...

IDIA: Okay so you're really a family, nice, don't mind me, just keep going...

LILIA: ...My children, as I was saying... to be so united under a strong bond. However... You should not call it family. 'Tis but an old belief, and old beliefs are as prompt to change as truth itself, if truth and not truths among this mysterious compass we are standing on. Therefore... You should consider Silver your precious friend, or your bro if I were to speak Idia's short but precise language. Of course, you can chose to keep on calling him your brethren, and I shall never entirely judge it, nevertheless shall you count on families and push them upon other. There is no such thing as a Family guidance in itself. There are only broken individuals playing with Fortune since the dawn of time, and rejecting these consequences into Luck on the yet-to-be-broken... or perhaps will they escape Luck and Fortune combined.

MALLEUS: I agree, Sebek. Although I am, once more pleased, with you being so concerned about the whole family, you shall not restrain Idia to our sphere. By doing so, you will restrict Silver as well... probably. And speaking of something as hollow as a family in front of Silver... Is cruel. I swear I will help you three at least, you four, maybe, but I cannot ensure I will be able to save all of you at the same time if something were to happen.

SEBEK: I apologize. I APOLOGIZE, FORGIVE ME LORD MAL... NO, LORD OF THE LORDS! I am. I have no right to utter your name... I should not even use "your" anymore!!! I will stain your... thine... thineself! With my language!

MALLEUS: Well, you are forgiven as long as you understood.

LILIA: Ahem! So, about this all, proving thing? I am interested in Idia, but not because Silver will perhaps be less able to protect Malleus because of dates, huhuhu!

SEBEK: F-f-f-f-father!!!! That was not what I...!

LILIA: Oh, is that so? How mischievious of I!

MALLEUS: That being said... I would indeed like to know as well Idia's... capacities.

SILVER: Eeeh, as long as you're all nice with him. Ahem! I do not see any problem, as long as he is also okay with it...

IDIA: I m-m-mean... it depends... what would you like from me...?

SEBEK: Whatever! You should not even imagine fighting with our Lord, because you will lose anyway!

IDIA: Never said that... And you ever stop simping or it's your only trait? You're so noisy...

SEBEK: !!! SEE!!! HE IS BECOMING ANNOYING AGAIN!!!

LILIA: What kind of human would not be outraged if you were to keep saying they cannot fulfill a single thing in their lives better than someone else than they probably barely know? Ufufu...

SEBEK: Urgh! I apologize!!!! I once again brought shame upon...

MALLEUS: Quiet, quiet... Let us stop there before another loop starts.

SILVER: Mhhh... If you really want to see how is Idia... maybe we should do some kind of fighting test?

IDIA: Eh?!

SILVER: From what I've heard, you even impressed Div... I mean, Teacher Crewel, didn't you?

IDIA: Oh, yeah. Sure did. Although I wasn't alone... I don't know how much of a cause was my partner, though...

SEBEK: But what if his damned technology destroys something...

IDIA: I mean, I still can challenge Malleus with chess, if you really want me to prove you I ain't that bad...

MALLEUS: Oh? So you do play chess? I thought you only were interested in... videogames. How wrong of me.

IDIA: Used to, yeah. Because of my... family, kind of. But I stopped playing the physical version. I play sometimes, but honestly, y'know, there are some chess games inside other videogames sometimes so... I think I'm doing pretty well. Especially when wi-fi hated me enough to want me to only play chess to hope for friends...

LILIA, aside: Dear, dearie, dears! What if Idia indeed ended up winning? Sebek would not like it for sure... and would for sure call him a cheater, a liar! But who is not a liar in this world, anyway? Huhuhu... But how would Idia react? How would this poor Silver react? Not well, I know it for sure. It is time to intervene again, and play the fool once more!

LILIA: Oh, my dears! Pray do not play chess, for my poor old heart would not bear such boring and repetitive activity, especially in my old times!

SEBEK: B—b—boring?! This game of wits that Lord Malleus masters so well, boring?!

LILIA: Yes, my boy, boring! Pray fulfill my wish of some strategical fight on a large-scale, yet a battle where no one dies! Even such a fake and tiny wish can be granted by someone who does not handle magic in the end. What shall you say of it, Idia?

IDIA: W-w-well... huh... I mean, sure but... Can you just record me instead of probably observing me? I don't want to hear you being disgusted by the way I use my... own magic, y'know...

LILIA: Oh no! We shall not be disgusted. I swear it on, hm... Peace between humans and other species. And well, we will not use magic for the... headmaster could watch us from afar.

IDIA: Why would you say something so cool?!

LILIA: Because my old self may be prompt to lie or forget among all of these years carving my brain and skeleton, skeletons, perhaps. Therefore, I shall be wise and swear of Fortune, for I know I will not betray my own last core.

SILVER: Let's just settle this before I fall asleep again...  

                                                       Scene III

                           One of Diasomnia main building's dining room

LILIA: Well, it sure will be interesting, but I do wonder if this needs to long or shorten.

MALLEUS: Oh oh? What may you mean?

LILIA: Nothing that matters, really. Only an old lad speaking his mind out of age, and age only, likely, likely, likely.

SEBEK: Huf... uff... Lord Malleus, Lord Lilia! Silver and... Idia are ready. They must only fight each other, right? Or have I forgotten something?

LILIA: No, no, my child. So far, we do not need to push anyone inside Diasomnia's castle. This dinner room will be enough for sure, as such. It is not like all of them are used, after all.

SEBEK: This isn't one of the best Dorms for nothing. We are not as much as the others because we are superior!

MALLEUS: Hm...

LILIA: Pray, Sebek. No such Words. They do not need to be uttered anymore. They have been uttered too much already, and have possessed many a kin. But, as Luck, we cannot allow Words to take over, can we?

SEBEK: H-huh sorry. Ahem! Look, Silver and his sword, as peaceful as ever! Although, well, this one is blunted for obvious reasons, I guess... And here comes Idia and his... staff? Such a peasant choice! No wonder he relies on technology with such bad instincts! Who would pick a staff as a reliable weapon when many good, excellent, swords lay in front of them!

MALLEUS: Should I make your mouth shuts itself, Sebek? I want to hear them and their fight. Idia might bring something we need in... here.

SILVER: Well, Idia, hope you're ready to fight, I won't go easy on you.

IDIA: Heh, so do I. I-I mean... There are still a lot of odds against me since I'm not that good when it comes to physical stuff but body isn't the only important thing in these kind of things so... My intellect stats are pretty high so it should be okay...

SILVER: En garde, then.

IDIA: Dude, I don't even have a sword, why would you say "en garde"?

SEBEK: Shut... Be quiet! En garde is just said here to be sure you are ready as well! ARE YOU READY, IDIA SHROUD?? ARE YOU?

IDIA: Yeah, no need to fucking shout... like really...

SEBEK: Then, let the fight begin. We will...

LILIA: Just go mad, my dear lads. No need for rules, for one. Just do not obliterate each other, for quite the obvious reason. Well, magic to attack is forbidden as well. Just in case one of you summon some thunder, we do not need this.

LILIA, aside: Well, actually, I may. But I should not meddle that much, for it may cost me much more than surmised.

SILVER: Alright. Here I come... Idia!

SEBEK: Silver's movements are as good as ever! We can really tell he has been training hard!

MALLEUS: Mhh, mh.

SEBEK: Ha! Have I bored you, Lord Malleus?

MALLEUS: No.

SEBEK: But...

LILIA: Sebek, Malleus does not speak of what is plainly sightable, unlike us. You should know, by now. And indeed, Silver has grown, as surmised. Hard work certainly went as expected. Causality does not disappoint on this point, I guess.

SEBEK: Ughh... I apologize... I still have a lot to learn. I will do my best.

LILIA: Well, when it comes to this, pray take a look at Idia. He has not lost yet.

SEBEK: That's true... That is true!!! Is that the power of the staff?!

MALLEUS: More likely Idia's own potential.

IDIA: Hehe... I may not be used to lot of movements and all... But a staff sure is easier to handle to protect myself than a sword would have been... And it's much lighter too!

SILVER: So you did chose accordingly to your own strength.

IDIA: Welp, rather my own weakness, but yah. Take that! Hehe!

SILVER: Huh! You dare... attack me when my blade is pushed backwards because of your staff?!

IDIA: Of course, I've been waiting for it this whole time, gwehehehe!

SEBEK: Idia is being an eyesore right now! Look at him acting all smug just because he was able to surprise us by not being absolutely useless!

LILIA: He is just enjoying himself, pray calm down, my child.

MALLEUS: Mhh...

LILIA: Oh! Silver has been cornered...

SEBEK: Huh! How?! Silver has been training so hard...

LILIA: Well, not against sly people.

SEBEK: What... do you think... Silver will lose?!

LILIA: Oh, pray, do not glare at myself like that! I cannot tell, I am just an old chap. It is not like I have all the knowledge of the world, nor can I foresight. I wonder how interesting it would be, anyway...

SEBEK: Ah! Silver has lost! But I'm pretty sure he just slipped...

SILVER: A defeat, still is a defeat.

IDIA: Y'all really are into really cool lines, huh? Well, I won so huh. Now? W-what are we going to...  do? Or talk about?

MALLEUS: Sending you back to your dorm... and room. It is getting quite late.

IDIA: Oh... yeah... Guess so... It's not like I've awakened anything in that old staff, huh. Ehm... will someone like... guide me through the dorm...?

SILVER: Oh, yes. I'll do it.

LILIA: Pray do, Silver. Good night, Idia.

SEBEK: You better not be late, Silver! Come back AS SOON AS YOU'RE DONE WITH YOUR MISSION!

MALLEUS: Spare my ears, Sebek... Please.

[lady-plantagenet]

What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 3: GOOD Grief! (we finally have a good episode on our hands)

To all those of you keen enough to have come back for another segment of ‘what hasn’t already been said: TSP’, as opposed to have just been scrolling when you see this - welcome back! (Scrollers you too <3)

Drawing of Thomas More’s Son AKA who Margaret Pole at this point wants to be the step baby momma of ;).

To anyone who’s seeing this for the first time: what this is a list of observations, jokes, reactions and criticism which occur to me upon a rewatch. I wait every week until Saturday to do this so that I have had my fill of scrolling through the tag and aggregating what has already been said. I tried doing a whole spoof (here where I gave up 10% in) but tbh a) I don’t know the history well enough b) it’s more time consuming than I thought and c) this series is just not as funny or as crazy as TWQ, so it’s untenable. Having said that: This is not a hatepost. I’m not hatewatching this series and nitpicking on purpose but expressing my honest views and trying to find the good in it as well as the bad.

Without further ado...

First Scenes: 

LMAO the way Wolsey suggests they break their alliance with Spain is freaking hilarious because the actor delivers the lines as if he were a high school girl making a personal attack by suggesting the prom change its theme to 70s disco to the chagrin of the peppy up-and-coming rival.

Also @ Henry VIII looking like the peppy up-and-comer’s bff and shy stan with that pencil bite and small smirk when Catherine loses her cool against Wolsey.

I’m sorry... who is Henry married to again?

Also what is Margaret Pole doing at the council meeting?? I’m not saying I don’t like it.

Margaret Pole warning against certain repetitive thinking creating madness :(((

Attempted Naked Twister:

Oh Catherine, what is with you and all the other STARZ protagonists and that weird politcky bedroom talk? Who actually finds this sexy?

‘Catherine you are unnatural’ ooof that line delivery was somehow haunting.

Was the whole ‘I can’t be rushed you are off-putting with your overpowering’ a callback to Arthur and Catherine? Apparently there’s another writer for this episode so I won’t put all subtly past them. 

Scotland:

‘Shitey men’ asdkjashd

Look I’m tired of all this ‘my children won’t be safe’ line getting repeated. Look mate, murder of royal infants and children was not exactly a common occurence, even in cases of deposition. The Princes in the Tower are an exception to this but a very infamous case for that reason. Child murder was extremely taboo. In situations like this with an infant kid, no one is going to bother murdering the babies and taking their thrones, the lords will just vie for power and make themselves de facto rulers and oust the queen. It’s not a question of safety but a question of holding power. Stop giving all women characters perma mummy brains.

Maggie being all caring:

‘Barnaby’ *scoffs* ‘Such an English name’ - OH MAN 0_0 is Catherine mocking them for trying to adapt ? Like I know it’s meant to show her envy for Lina, but it’s coming out all messed up.

Our girl Maggie’s smile screams I’m beating your ass in chess.

Anyhow this is the least histrionic we’ve seen Catherine so far.

Chaplain vs Catherine:

I’m interested how Catherine will feel at Stafford’s execution given that I have noticed this show build up to a friendship between them.

Why is everyone laughing at the whole ‘will you delight us with new schemes’ line was not that funny?

LMAO at Thomas Boleyn’s attempted brown-nosing. 

You know what? Ruairi is a decent actor. When he says ‘so you admit it? you lost the child because you tried to be a man?” the actor conveys Henry’s troubled mind, lowkey scare towards Catherine and bewilderment all in one. The way his eyes do not move but just widen emotionlessly also gives this sense that he is being manipulated (which I guess they are going for with Wolsey). Then the whole choir music in the background.. I don’t know.. I’m liking this, it’s creating a vibe of a king of haunted and increasingly paranoid Henry. I’m sure they are going for that, so good.

Ursula Pole and Mama:

Maggie Pole say ‘riches don’t keep you safe’ with tears in her eyes :’(. Please tell me how this is not her thinking on her parents and granddad Warwick and what befell them ;’(.

I find Ursula refreshing actually, don’t get those types of heroines often. But they are making her similar to a gold-digger, an exhalted marriage was first and foremost considered a thing of honour. Noblepeople wouldn’t speak in such mercenary terms regarding their marriages. 

Post Mary Defiance:

I love the ‘horse’ nickname from Brandon n’awwww

Also just realised what made TWQ so atmospheric - that wierd ‘oooo’ sound effect in the background when a character was being paranoid or worrying. They are using it during Henry’s ‘How is it that I have no sons?’ and it is just... so effective.

Catherine calling them ordinary children... she just keeps striking me as more and more classist. Like ok, I know every royal was... but still, I thought she was meant to see Lina as a friend and equal despite her race and status. To add the race element, this kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Also it is so clear by the end when Catherine states how the king is upset with her, she expects Maggie to ask her about it.. but she doesn’t lmao.

Back to Scotland until Sexy boy fencing:

I love me this soft boi. Angus <3 <3

I like how they address that some men don’t really like killing and that violence isn’t inherent in a man’s nature.

Oh man, are we supposed to look at Lina’s house and deplore the impoverished conditions? It would go for at least 3,000,000 pounds in today’s property market?

Is Catherine being particularly classist again with ‘Why u not becoming a butcher Wolsey, ey?’. 

Though I will admit the ‘but giving meat to the poor is also good’ was one of her only smart comebacks.

Just realised, Catherine’s pink dress pretty as it is, looks straight out of the 1570s... why?

Montage and After:

You guys are right, there is this weird longing between Henry and Wolsey lmao. It is actually insane.

So basically Catherine is officially depressed

OOOFF we have Stafford as regent instead of Catherine. (edit: I suppose it’s cause they go to France which they didn’t historically? Also if Stafford is at home then what is his son later doing in France, why would he be there without his father. This show didn’t think this through)

Meg Singing:

An impassionate speech is not too anachronistic. But despite the title of this post (what hasn’t been said) I will reiterate that 16th century and Medieval people’s problem wasn’t that they were ashamed of their grief and didn’t cry. In fact, crying was somewhat more socially acceptable then than it even is now! Even manly men like Arthur were written as crying in literature such as Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. Obviously you couldn’t go overboard, but in truth crying was indeed often too performative rather than hidden too much behind doors.

Pole and More UWUWU in France and after:

I LIKE THIS INTELLECTUAL FLIRTING

It’s nice to see a depiction of romantic feelings between mature and level-headed subjects.

God Mary Tudor is so beautiful in this scene jesus. and the music when she was being presented was also very beautiful.

Maggie Pole getting given ‘a modest income’ yeah... she was one of the wealthiest peers of her day.

Also Maggie’s lady cousin not lady aunt Frost!

‘shaking of the sheets’ lmaoooo

William Compton cracks the hell out of me. I love this guy. He is just so creepy and twisted yet super keen and friendly. ahaha He looks like a riot, I hope we see him more. lmao tiles.

Also this palace feels very anachronistic almost 18th century-ish.

I like the Louis and Mary sequence, it’s nice seeing him trying to make her feel less scared, but OMFG when he lay on that chair.. for one second I thought they were trying to kill him off already.

Scotland: ‘Love is an open doooooorrrrr’ + Last Scene:

I ship Meg and Douglas ahhhh this soft boi x strong woman match is everything Henry and Catherine could have been.

I wonder... why is Lina speaking in Spanish more than Catherine. hmmm Are they trying to foreshadow Lina’s eventual return home and how Catherine become a true englishwoman?

Conclusion:

7.5/10

I cannot in all fairness believe it. This was actually decent. I’ve given up on historical accuracy long ago so by this point I’m focusing more on how it stands as as drama. I mean, TWQ was also a flop when it came to grasping the complex issues of that era but why do I feel compelled to rewatch it every year? Because it had atmosphere when it came to acting, music, certain aesthetics (though the costumes let me down often). It felt adequately gothic and dark, yet bright and jewel-lish when it had to be, sometimes both at the same time. Some one-liners were also memorable etc...

So far TSP 2 did not have any of this. Everything felt way too off and anachronistic. But not even consistently anachronistic. The music was also often very meh (though I just noted the absence of the spanish stringy theme that kept playing in season 1 - I guess I understand why), the dialogue very clichéd (‘alright lads let’s throw in the words: king, crown, power, fight, battle + other buzzwords and we have ourselves Shakespeare’) and so on... but I saw a change in this episode and I couldn’t initially point out what it was.

Upon rewatch, I identified some of the improvements (noted above) but above all: The producer was different! Boy does it show. Unfortunately, I think she is only for this one episode which really sucks. Come back! There is more chemistry between the couples, less predictable interactions, pervy Compton, cinnamonroll Douglas, better music, more scenic shots (e.g Douglas and Margaret in church) e.t.c. I hope it will match the rest of the STARZ productions in getting better towards the end.

Look it’s no masterpiece. But I’ll give credit where it’s due because at least this time it didn’t leave me feeling wanting and unsatisfied (if that makes sense).

[carewyncromwell]

The next piece of the POTC AU is here -- and with it, the Revenge’s return to Isle de Muerta, the breaking of the curse, and ...what’s this? A new player in this drama?

Pictured above are Carewyn’s villainous relatives, the Cromwells -- Blaise (green), Pearl (red), Claire (gold), and of course the GodGrandfather himself, Captain Charles Cromwell (lime). If you’d like to learn more about their canon R-member versions, including what fancasts inspired these characters’ designs, you can find that here! I’ll make it clear right now that none of these characters, in any version of Carewyn’s canon, would ever be considered good people -- but maybe after this section and the next one, you’ll get to know them all a bit better and see some of the grayer wrinkles to at least three out of these four.

The song “Saucy Sailor” (or alternatively “Saucy Sailor Boy” or “Saucy Sailor Lad”), like “A Maid in Bedlam,” was first developed in the 18th century, but has since had its words and overall sound changed a LOT over time. The lyrics I’m using are from a more modern variation, which I put in the link to, simply because I prefer the flow of the words. The sentiment is nearly identical to the original, older lyrics, though. ^.^

Previous part for this AU is here -- full tag is here -- and, once again, Jules Farrier belongs to ma chere @cursebreakerfarrier! xoxo

x~x~x~x

It was a very long morning locked in the brig of the Revenge. Carewyn found herself singing more, just to keep her mind occupied -- it was something she and Jacob had done a lot when they were kids too. Even their mother, when she still alive, used to sing with them. It was one of the few things that could bring them joy on board the red-stained pirate ship, as even if Charles was very controlling, he found it mildly entertaining. The rest of the crew often ended up being in a better mood whenever they’d sing too -- like all of the sailors Carewyn had encountered in the Navy, they’d seemed to think that a song could make the work day go faster.

“‘Come, me own one; come, me fair one; Come now unto me -- Could you fancy a poor sailor lad who has just come from sea?’ ‘You are ragged, love, and you’re dirty, love, And your clothes smell much of tar, So be gone, you saucy sailor lad! So be gone, you Jack Tar!’ ‘If I am ragged, love, and I’m dirty, love, And me clothes smell much of tar, I have silver in me pocket, love, and gold in great store.’ And then when she heard him say so, On her bended knee she fell -- ‘I will marry my dear Henry, for I love a sailor lad so well!’”

“Ah -- I thought that little ditty sounded familiar.”

Carewyn stopped immediately and looked up.

Through the bars of the cell, she could see the frame of Charles Cromwell’s only son and First Mate, her uncle, Blaise. His almond-shaped blue eyes -- identical to all of his siblings, Charles’s and Carewyn’s -- were narrowed slightly, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

“I seem to recall that was Jacob’s favorite when he was alive, was it not?” said Blaise rather drolly.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed coldly and didn’t respond.

Blaise uncrossed his arms, strolling over so as to prop one of his arms against the wooden bars so as to better look down at his niece.

“Little word of advice,” he whispered coolly, “you might want to tone it down a bit. The Revenge’s crew has not much liked singing these last fifteen years -- especially Pearl.”

“Since we left?” Carewyn said, and she couldn’t fight back a humorless laugh. “Should I be touched by that, that you all lost that last piece of humanity you still had, because Jacob and I did the one thing you’ve never been able to do?”

Blaise lashed his arm out violently at the bars, making Carewyn flinch despite herself, but she kept her glare firm.

“You forget our curse, little Winnie,” the First Mate murmured, and his blue eyes darkened noticeably. “No earthly pleasure can reach us, so long as one medallion is parted from that chest and the blood is not repaid. All food becomes ash in our mouths. No drink can satisfy. All carnal pleasures make us ill, with no cure...”

Something flickered in the back of his eyes.

“...Even music...the one thing that always brought your mother back to our minds...sounds like a death’s rattle.”

Carewyn’s glare faltered slightly, losing some of its edge. Blaise’s eyes drifted over her face for a moment. His brimmed black hat cast a shadow over the top of his face that obscured his expression somewhat, but it was definitely less arrogant than when he’d first arrived.

“You don’t resemble her much at all,” he murmured, almost lamenting the fact. “Neither you nor Jacob...ever resembled her much.”

Carewyn crossed her arms, her legs folded in front of her on the floor.

“We resembled her in the way that mattered,” she said quietly, “knowing that we deserve to live free, not stuck in a cage.”

Blaise gave a short, harsh sigh, throwing up a hand in aggravation.

“Must you bite my hand off when I’m trying to show you sincere sentiment?” he asked in a tired, condescending type of passive-aggressiveness that made him sound all the more like Charles. “I am your uncle, little Winnie.”

“I wasn’t biting your hand off,” said Carewyn, and her voice echoed with a bit of edge in return. “I’ve never understood why you, Claire, and Pearl stayed. Mum used to say you were so ambitious, when you were a kid -- that you wanted your own fleet and an entire island all to yourself. She said Claire was happier than she’d ever been in her life living on Shipwreck Cove, when she was too pregnant to sail. She said Pearl wanted to be captain of the Revenge herself someday, after Grandfather retired and you got your own ship. But not one of you ever chased any of that -- instead you just march lock-step with Grandfather like none of your dreams ever mattered -- ”

“I will not have a Navy brat chastise me for ‘marching lock-step,’”spat Blaise.

Carewyn got to her feet and got up right next to the bars so as to better glare into her uncle’s face.

“I may be a so-called ‘Navy brat,’ but I still have a heart and a soul that are mine. And the East India Trading Company couldn’t buy those with all the coin on earth. You, though? You gave up everything you ever wanted and are, for nothing at all. You gave it up without even fighting for it.”

Blaise stared Carewyn down for a very long moment, his glare rippling with resentment.

“...Nothing...yes. I suppose that is what I’ve received, through this venture. We found the treasure of Cortes -- a chest worthy of a king -- and yet the wealth we accrued through selling it could not replace the humanity we lost...nor the family. Not Lane...not my sweet Marianne...”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. She’d barely known Blaise’s wife, since he’d been very newly married when she’d left and her pregnancy ensured her place in Shipwreck Cove, away from Charles’s ship. All Carewyn and Jacob had really gathered was that the woman had gotten swept up in Blaise’s good looks more than any particular charm on his part -- if nothing else, then because Blaise, as well as the rest of the Cromwells, were the furthest thing from charming imaginable.

Blaise’s smile twitched with a completely humorless smile. “Did you not wonder why I have no sons or daughters on board, while Claire and Pearl’s children run wild?”

The unpleasant smile vanished instantly.

“I first saw what I’d become while visiting Shipwreck Cove to spend a night with Marianne. I’d been feeling so out of sorts, with nothing tasting right and my thirst never being quenched, and I’d so looked forward to holding her in my arms again. But when she saw me, bathed in the moonlight...she ran from me. I begged for her to stay. I grabbed her, tried to hold her down and explain...she ripped herself out of my arms...and in her panic lost her footing and fell down the stairs.”

Carewyn’s heart clenched.

“She was alive,” Blaise said in response to the concern that rippled over the Commodore’s face. “But only just. The injury made her miscarry, of course, but she’d also hurt herself beyond repair. She was never able to leave her bed again. And knowing what I was...my Marianne grew cold. Didn’t wish to see me. I broke down her door more than once, trying to force her to come with me, so I could take her somewhere more comfortable with better medicine, where it could just be her and me, but she said she was in too much pain to move. It was then...that she first asked me to kill her.”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly. Blaise’s eyes had drifted away from her and now bore into the wall of the brig.

“My Marianne asked me to kill her multiple times -- but I refused. She was my wife. She was mine, mine alone...I was not going to let anyone take her from me, not even Death himself.”

The possessive attitude again reminded Carewyn unpleasantly of Charles.

“But...as the years went by...as I returned time and again, her presence gave me no pleasure, and mine...repulsed her. I didn’t need pleasure, of course -- only her. Even if we could have none of the children we wanted while I was cursed, that could come later. She could wait for me. Even if she could not leave her bed...at least that way, she could never leave me...”

“You’re disgusting,” Carewyn spat.

Blaise didn’t seem to hear her -- he was too lost in his own memories.

“At least...so I thought. But in the end...she did leave me. After I’d vowed never to let anyone take her from me...she took herself away...by poisoning herself.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed grimly, but couldn’t reply.

“So in the end...I truly do have nothing. No wife, to love me forever and a day. No child of my own, to mold the way I see fit. No member of my family who has ever shown me any genuine love or kindness...that isn’t now in an afterlife that I will never reach. Pearl has her husband and sons, and Claire has her family...but I...I have nothing.”

Blaise’s voice was never choked and his face never showed outward grief, but there was a bizarre, isolating gloom swirling around him.

Carewyn’s eyes were still narrowed as she studied him. Then, after a moment, she reached a hand through the bars and took hold of the sleeve of his dark red coat.

“...I’m sorry,” she said solemnly.

They weren’t the right words, for she really didn’t feel remorse or regret for Blaise’s sake, but they were the only ones she could think of to express any shred of sympathy.

‘As despicable as you are, and however much you brought a lot of this on yourself...it’s not something I can take pleasure in.’

Blaise looked down at her hand, and then up at her face, his expression appearing wounded and almost confused. Then he roughly pulled himself out of her hold, his expression contorted in disgust -- as if he didn’t know what to do with basic human compassion.

“And here I thought you’d toughened yourself up, in the last fifteen years,” he said, his voice again dripping with condescension and scorn.

Carewyn’s gaze hardened, but Blaise didn’t seem to care.

“No matter,” he said, his voice a low growl in the back of his throat as his eyes bore into the upper corner of the brig. “Things are going to change, once the curse is broken. I may have nothing now, but mark my words...I’ll have everything soon enough.”

The vengeful tone of his voice made Carewyn ask suspiciously, ”What are you planning to do?”

Blaise’s lips spread into a smirk, but did not answer. He turned his back and Carewyn and started to walk out of the brig. On his way out, he paused, his hand absently resting on his scabbard as he looked over his shoulder at her, his blue eyes twinkling with malice.

“When the curse is lifted, little Winnie...you’ll be singing quite a lot for me.”

And with that, he left up the stairs back toward the main deck.

Meanwhile the Artemis was making very good time. The Revenge was a very fast ship, but sure enough, any outside observer watching the ships’ trajectories from the air would’ve seen the Artemis was shortening the distance between it and the Revenge rapidly. Even McNully hypothesized as much.

“According to my calculations,” said McNully as he addressed the crew early that morning, “the Revenge travels about 7 knots, normally -- well above any of the Navy’s fastest ships -- and they had a half-day’s head start. But the Artemis is a schooner. We may be a lot smaller than a galleon like the Revenge, but we’re built for speed, so we’ve made it to 8 knots consistently since we started. And since we presumably don’t have as much loot weighing us down as the ship that can only make berth in one place and Orion dealt with our mermaid problem, meaning we didn’t need to slow down while traveling through their waters the way the Revenge no doubt would’ve...and most importantly, Charles Cromwell has no reason to think anyone’s following him...I reckon there’s a 96.5% chance that we catch up with them tonight.”

Knowing that soon they’d be catching up to a whole ship full of pirates, Bill and Charlie spent the rest of the day training Jules in sword combat on the main deck. Jules had asked Bill to teach her some moves earlier in the voyage and had soon proven quite capable with a blade -- though Charlie had teased that it was because Bill had been going easy on her, even he had to admit Jules was a fast learner. At one point Skye even jumped in to show Jules, Charlie, and Bill how to do the “Pincer,” a move she’d developed where three people “hem” in their opponent little by little until they can reach in close enough to trap the person’s neck between all three of their blades crossed in a triangle shape. McNully also got in on the action by talking her through fighting with a sword while in the ship’s rigging.

“Very good!” said McNully, as he supervised Skye and Jules fighting each other in the rigging that afternoon. “Try to attack your opponent’s stance every-so-often, that’ll improve your odds of victory by a good 26%!”

Orion strolled down from the helm to get a better look, his arms crossed over his chest as he came to a stop between Charlie and McNully.

“A clever strategy as always, McNully,” the captain said levelly.

McNully grinned. “Thanks! Though it being done by a woman always helps. I’d say a good 89% of all men on the high seas fear nothing more than a woman who could kill them.”

“I reckon Bill’s in that remaining eleven,” said Charlie amusedly.

The three men glanced at Bill. His gaze was locked on Jules up in the rigging and his lips were spread in a full, admiring smile.

“There admittedly is also a good two percent of men who love the idea of a woman who could kill them,” said McNully amusedly.

He nudged Orion in the side with his elbow, and the Captain actually bowed his head and grinned from ear to ear, showing white teeth.

It didn’t take long for Carewyn to figure out what Blaise was planning. She’d stopped singing, not to placate her uncle, but so as to listen, and soon she could hear the whispers. The unhappy mutterings from Pearl’s son, from Claire’s husband, son, and three daughters. Some about how much more controlling Charles had gotten in his old age. Some about how their plunder on the Isle de Muerta was still in a giant pile and had still not been parsed out evenly between the crew. Some about how much they hated being cursed, speaking longingly of drinking an entire bottle of liquor or eating a bushel of apples or screwing every woman they laid eyes on, once their humanity was restored...blaming Charles’s expedition to Isle de Muerta for their fifteen years of misery.

It all added up to one thing in Carewyn’s mind. As soon as the curse was lifted and Charles was mortal again, Blaise was planning to spark a mutiny.

From what she could deduce, the only people who didn’t know were Pearl, Claire, and Charles himself, and Carewyn thought she could guess why. Pearl had treated Jacob and Carewyn with the most active hostility after Lane and her husband tried to escape with them: she was furious by their attempt at desertion, and Carewyn figured mutiny wouldn’t be something she’d support much either. And Claire had always been the “follower” out of her relatives to whomever was the most powerful, in this case, Charles: she would’ve been far too much of a liability to have in the loop until after the mutiny was complete, at which point she’d probably fall into line.

It was sort of sad, Carewyn thought. The Cromwells had always claimed to be a family -- but there truly wasn’t an ounce of love or trust anywhere to found in them. It made her miss Bill, Charlie, and Percy all the more.

The Revenge docked in Isle de Muerta late that afternoon. Part of that time was spent unloading the loot they’d collected into the cave -- there was quite a large store of it. Considering that pirates usually spent anything they stole right away rather than saving it -- and, more specifically, that her family had always done that before, when she was a kid -- Carewyn supposed that even enjoying the gold and riches they’d collected fell under the umbrella of “earthly pleasure” the Revenge’s crew couldn’t enjoy.

It was as the sun began to set that Carewyn heard the sounds above deck starting to quiet. She peeked out the magic-patched hole in her cell -- because they’d docked, they were in shallower water, and she could see a large swath of dark red heading into a large cave, lit torches held aloft. Among the landing party were Pearl, Claire, and Blaise, and at its head, Carewyn could just barely spot the one lone red hat that belonged to Charles.

‘Five, six...nine,’ Carewyn thought. ‘They’ve left two people aboard. Probably Claire and Pearl’s husbands.’

She could hear raucous laughter from the room below deck, just above the brig.

“Another win for me, then!” said a rather muffled, raspy sort of voice.

“Aye, but can you do it again?” challenged another much more boorish voice. “Let’s have another go at the dice, then!”

Carewyn could hear a rattling sound and then two loud thunks on the table overhead.

‘They’re playing Liar’s Dice,’ she surmised.

“I s’pose ‘Captain Blaise’ and his new mate would be more open to it than old Charles,” said the raspy voice smugly, “but I don’t reckon your biddy would be too happy about it...”

“Look, I’m just saying, I haven’t had a good lay in fifteen years,” said the boorish voice, “I’m sure Claire won’t put up too much of a fuss if I borrow ‘er for a bit, on the side -- it’s not like I can sleep with my own daughters -- ”

More raucous laughter followed. Carewyn cringed, but she quickly put his words out of her mind and got right down to business.

There were now only two people on the Revenge -- sure, they were currently undead, but they wouldn’t be much longer, and they were distracted. This might be the only chance she had, to get the upper hand. And so the Commodore got to work plotting her jail break.

Since she’d been changed out of her Navy uniform against her will, Carewyn didn’t have any hat pins she could turn into a lockpick, but fortunately the dark red jacket she’d been forced into did have thin metal clasps for its buttons instead of holes, even if it was too small for her to button the jacket around herself properly. After some work, she managed to rip one of the entire fastenings and twist the clasp into a flatter wire that she could stick into the keyhole of her cell door.

Within fifteen minutes, there was a click, and she very, very carefully inched the cell door open and sneaked out up the stairs, right past the room the two pirates were playing Liar’s Dice, and up onto the deck.

‘I can’t move against those two until I know for sure the curse is broken,’ thought Carewyn. ‘So I’ll have to bide my time, at least for a short while...’

She glanced around before her eyes settled on the door to Charles’s cabin, just below the helm. She swept over, trying the handle -- upon finding it locked, she took her new lockpick back out and, within two more minutes, had opened it.

Charles’s cabin was much more opulently decorated than Orion’s cabin, with fiery red Persian rugs, black silk curtains, and gold-trimmed mahogany future. Carewyn also noted with some scorn that her grandfather did, in fact, have a pair of ridiculously voluptuous, naked woman carved into his headboard. Fortunately it also held a store of weapons -- so Carewyn stole a cutlass, a pistol, a couple of grenades, and some spare bullets and powder, just to be safe. She’d just been securing the sword’s scabbard when she heard a raucous cheering from below deck.

“AYE! AYYYYYE, YEAAAAAH!”

The two pirates sounded elated beyond reason -- almost gleeful. 

‘The curse has been broken!’ thought Carewyn.

She charged out of Charles’s cabin, ready to seize her chance -- but when she made it out on deck, she was shocked by what she saw.

The whole of Isle de Muerta was surrounded. There were a good ten pirate ships, all hovering just off shore in a noose-like shape around the island. The largest of them, which was also closest to the Revenge, was a pitch black vessel with a winged harpie carved into its bowsprit.

The blood drained out of Carewyn’s face at the sight of it.

It was the Tower Raven.