#OH RIGHT I decided to try a different style of “rendering” after some studies and i like it sooo i think I’ll be using this more often

[idanit]

possibly underappreciated Good Omens fics I enjoyed once upon a time

Indirectly inspired by a video series about fanfiction I watched, I decided to pull together a list of Good Omens fics I have bookmarked as stories I enjoyed, but which have less than 250-300 kudos at the time I’m writing this. No particular order. They’re accompanied by short excerpts from my private fic reading notes (not originally intended to be read by anyone but me, mind), sometimes slightly edited for clarity—and, sometimes, the comments I left on the fics.

This list sat in my drafts for a long time and the recent S2 announcement reminded me of it. I’d love it if it inspired you to do something similar! Spread the love.

And mind the tags, please.

△ = general and teen ▲ = mature and explicit 

thermodynamic equilibrium ▲ 7K the author has such an ear for dialogue and is unapologetic about what they want to write the characters like. They think of the characters as a mix of TV and book canon, but they feel like a homemade blend to me. (...) It’s very funny.

such dear follies ▲ 6K I can really picture this Aziraphale—Crowley as well, but her especially. She’s rather distinct. (...) Nice writing.

The Words Were With - △ 1.2K post-Blitz vignette, Aziraphale realizes what he feels and wonders if they're human enough for this. I liked it, and I liked the tag "transhumanism, but in reverse?", too—what an interesting idea. I'd say it's a vignette in a dire need of a follow-up, but, well, there's the show. The show is the follow-up. It fits very nicely within the canon and I totally believe it could have happened, like a deleted scene.

Gossip and Good Counsel △ 19K/? I love their companionship and how they're set up to be opposites by the management even though they get on pretty well. It feels very in keeping with the canon, but I feel like the fact that it's an F/F set in this particular time period adds a meaningful layer to the situation. It's women supporting each other in the world of men, working with the personas that are created for them, but, privately, being normal, well-rounded people. (...) and of course your writing is always a pleasure to read. (...) SDHDGDHDHDG Maisie is truly an Aziraphale.

Crowley Went Down to Georgia (he was looking for a soul to steal) △ 6K This was nice. Based on a song I didn’t know. Crowley goes to a funeral in the USA, one of a fiddler he knew and lost a bet to once. (...) The fic has not one but two songs composed for it and embedded inside it and that makes it even better. I really enjoyed the experience.

The Thing With Feathers △ 18K WARLOCK you'rE HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT I would read an entire novel-length fic just of Crowley fighting his battles with Warlock. Written like this? It would be a blast. (...) The OCs are believably characterized and well-loved by the story. (...) Everyone seems to need a friend in this house. (...) This was so fun, and at the same time, their mission has weight here (...) We wonder about what the future holds even though we know it.

Here Quiet Find △ 11K This fic aimed for my head and the aim was sure precise. It was a story of Crowley sensing Aziraphale's distress and finding him in a self-quarantined English village in the seventeenth century, tired and anxious. It's hurt/comfort, so there was washing and bedsharing and I had to love it, so I did.

outside of time △ 2K Post-Almostgeddon, (...) nicely-written, short, but strung with a soft kind of tension and unspoken words. There's no drama, just "can we really", and "do you really" of sudden freedom. They fall into being inseparable. Book canon, which I like for this story (sitting on a tarmac). I liked the footnotes. There's a mention of Eliot. All in all, very much yes.

She'asani Yisrael △ 2K It’s Crowley going through a two-hour service and drinking blessed wine. He also keeps an eye on a boy he was asked to. It’s 1946. It was pretty good, so far the best Jewish GO fic, I think, from the ones I’ve read.

To Guard The Eastern Gate △ 11K  I loved it. You really made Sodom feel lived-in; the description of Keret, Hurriya and Yassib's house and relationship were great. I got attached to both them and the city (...) Aziraphale and Crawley’s interactions were generally very entertaining. I laughed (...) Your rendering of their voices just lands so well (...) But then oh, the entire ending (...) hurt, hurt a lot, and your descriptions are so vivid.

If you’ve been waiting (for falling in love) △ 14K AAAAA a good ending line. The whole paragraph, in fact. I love a good smattering of philosophy in my fics, and this was really nice. I can get behind Thomas Aequinus's and Crowley's view on eternity. It's (...) a pretty simple fic (...) - the courage to express yourself and take a risk is awarded with winning what was at stake by the virtue of reciprocity - but the way it was intertwined with a study of how they would experience a forever was done well. 

Holy unnecessary ▲ 2.2K It's well-written. (...) this is my type of sexual humour if I have any. So subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. Lovely.

The Parting Glass △ 17K Through the ages, they're dancing around their relationship until after the Armageddoff. (...) Wow, this was really, really nice. Very simple in its concept and nothing I haven't read before, but very well-executed. (...) AAAAH I LOVED the first chapter. I always like abbeys as settings, that's a given, but the banter, the good writing, the moral ambiguity!

Name The Sky △ 33K This Crowley is different, but very intriguing. Without his sarcastic talk, and much more animalistic. (...) I love how expressive Crowley is. (...) This fic has a very nice balance of drama and levity. I don't love Crowley-before-the-Fall stories very much, but with this execution I can read about it. (...) Okay I've read Crowley offering fruits, and even Aziraphale biting fruits, but the two of them sharing the apple? Outstanding. Ingenious. What a take.

A Flame in Your Heart △ 5K post-Blitz (why are so many dance fics post-Blitz?), they go to the bookshop and have an actually believable conversation. Then they dance the gavotte. It was really nice! Believable writing, emotions, the dancing! (...) Of course it's too early for them, (...) but the author's note? yeah.

Put down the apple, Adam, and come away with me ▲ 32K At this point it's just reading original stories with characters with names and some personality traits that I recognize. (...) I really enjoy this, the careful dance, the opposition between their views. (...) This is well-written, wow. (...) it's not an easy read (...) this story feels very believably 50s, but also reaches out to the present time. 

Liebestraum ▲ 10K/? It really is like music. I'm enjoying the writing a lot. (...) oh my actual god. This, this? Wow, uh. This came for my throat. (...) THE MUSICAL COMPOSITION, THE MOTIF RETURNING, THE AUTHOR KNOWS WHERE IT'S AT (...) Excellent. This hits the right beats so precisely, (...) and with feeling, too.

Down Comforter △ 2.4K and they lay down in angeldown, a soft rug ‘neath their heads– alright. Well, Crowley lies under Aziraphale's wing on a Persian rug after the Apocalypse, and they talk (...). It was sweet.

The Corsair of Carcosa △ 5K Crowley wakes up from a nap, visits Aziraphale for some drinking, and they read The King in Yellow that he happens to own. Good writing, so I'm bought. Aziraphale mentions Beardsley, so I'm bought twice over. My god, a discussion of etheral/occult madness? Caused by some wrong/true reading? Yes.

Very Good, Omens! △ 6K It's rather well-written, well-pastiched. People don't do that too often, nowadays - try to write in the style of a particular writer. (...) I love wordplay like this.

Reviving Robin Hood: The Complicated Process of Crème Brûlée △ 30K it's well-written (...), has a rhythm to it, and quiet humour. (...) Finally some nice, good, light writing. The attention to detail! (...) I'm still reading most of it aloud, the rhythm of it compels me to. (...) okay this does sound like Pratchett&Gaiman, the Good Omens itself (...) The fic is meandering, hilarious, sensitive in all the right places, and overall lovely.

my dear acquaintance △ 1K Oh. Oh. Yes, yes! Aziraphale in Russia, Russia I've never been in, but I can feel the snow and the evening of. Very real, and the bar, too. Attention to detail - vodka flavoured with dill, what on earth? Yes. He would totally have a distinct taste in operas and he would totally complain about a subpar one. I'm glad Tchaikovsky's there.

there is a crack in everything △ 1.8K This was good! Ah. Inspired by a comment (...), I went looking for Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese fics—really, what a big brain moment someone had and why have I never thought to look for them? This is Crowley getting suddenly anxious and Aziraphale going out of his way, through all his layers of not-thinking and denial, to console him. I also really liked how the Arrangement is a carefully unacknowledged partnership-marriage.

Scales And Gold And Wings And Scars △ 6K  No conflict, no plot, one tiny arc like a ripple on the surface of water on a calm sunny day - of Aziraphale discovering Crowley’s scars. It's the South Downs and it's early summer. They bask and swim in a spring. Non-sexual nudity, love in the air like a scent. Nice.

Nineteen Footnotes In Search Of A Story △ 0.4K This is a Good Omens story told only through footnotes. Your mind can fill in the gaps. Fascinating (...). Also, it’s an experiment so apt for this particular fandom.

Hell on Earth △ 6.5K Oh, I loved it! How could I not love it: it's Beelzebub-centric, it's historical, it has classical painting, and even a hilarious scene with a cuneiform phrase, as if I didn't enjoy this story enough already. There are so few Beelzebub fics out there and I find searching for them very difficult (I accept recs if anyone has any), and it's such a shame, so this was really like a gift to the fandom. I absolutely adore the way you portrayed them, small, frightening, powerful, and confident. Also, it was super fun to see how different Crowley seems when we're not in his POV or in a story about him and Aziraphale. (...)

Go Up to Ramoth-Gilead and Triumph △ 24K Daegaer is... pure class. (...) hdhdhdh what pfttt why you so funny (...) I love this Crowley. (...) This got unexpectedly intense. (...) I love the little nods to the fact that Israelites, especially the poorer ones, still believe in other gods. I also really like that they sleep on roofs. It's just the kind of detail that grounds the story and shows that the author is, in fact, a historian. 

[the-last-kenobi]

AHHH YOU’RE TAKING REQUESTS 🚨🚨🚨 Okay okay uhhhhh I can’t decide between 13 or 18 so you choose! With hurt Obi-Wan and caretaker Anakin, please!

I AM INDEED TAKING PROMPTS

And because you’re amazing and I love all your writing I have decided to write both 13 and 18 into one story, we’ll see how this goes yikes.

From this various prompts list

_

Anakin moved quickly up the hallway, trying to keep his footsteps as soft as possible.

It was very late — or very early, depending on one’s point of view. The low-lights were on, and Anakin felt like he was intruding somehow, in this residential wing that was almost entirely deserted due to the war.

The damned war.

Anakin clenched his fists. I can’t afford to be angry right now, he told himself. I need to talk to Obi-Wan and I can’t start out by yelling at him.

It was tempting to lash out at Obi-Wan.

They hadn’t had a proper conversation in months, not since the Hardeen operation and everything that it had entailed, and then Obi-Wan up and vanished on some discreet mission, stopping only to ask Anakin for a ship to borrow.

Anakin had discovered Obi-Wan’s return only when Acquisitions had notified him that his ship would be late in returning to his care due to extensive damage. Flight logs indicated that his Master had returned a full five days before. Five days without so much as a comm message letting his lineage know he was back home. Nothing.

For a few hours Anakin had foundered, stewing in disbelief and anger, but as night crept in he had begun to feel something different.

Concern.

And something that might have been the Force, prompting him, pushing him.

And so here he was, silently keying in the manual code to Obi-Wan’s quarters — technically still his own, although he spent most nights at Padmé’s or in a private room.

The door swished open.

It was utterly dark.

That wasn’t unusual; when he had the chance, Obi-Wan preferred to sleep in complete darkness. He said it felt more natural. No distractions tugging at his brain.

What was unusual was the state of disarray.

There was a kettle sitting on the counter, so near the edge it made Anakin nervous. He walked over and moved it a few inches, his eyebrows flying up when he felt the weight. When he lifted the lid, it was obvious that this was days-old, and untouched to boot.

Was Obi-Wan sick? Was he in the Halls? Surely someone would have notified him. Surely.

Anakin looked around and took note of the robe discarded against the wall, the boots left in the middle of the walkway. There was an empty mug on the reading table, and a holo-still sitting beside it, as if Obi-Wan had stared at it for awhile and then set it down — the only item that looked carefully treated.

On closer inspection, it was a holo of Obi-Wan, far younger than Anakin had ever seen him, next to Qui-Gon and a dark-skinned woman he had never seen before.

Qui-Gon was in the center, facing a little to the left, his eyes on the woman, a full smile on his face. Anakin stared. The Jedi he remembered had been understated, his smiles always a little sad. This Qui-Gon looked about to throw his head back in laughter. The woman was looking down at Obi-Wan, who stood on Qui-Gon’s other side. She was nearly as tall as Qui-Gon, her hair was braided into several intricate sections; she was smirking conspiratorially at the young Padawan.

And Obi-Wan was smiling shyly back. Although his Master wasn’t looking at him, he had draped one arm around Obi-Wan, and the boy was leaning into the casual touch.

They all looked ridiculously young and ridiculously happy, and Anakin didn’t even know who one of them was. He had never heard of this woman, or why she wasn’t around any more, because she must not be, and he had certainly never heard stories of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship. Not unless it was relevant to whatever they had been doing, or whatever lesson Obi-Wan had been trying to teach.

His Master was so damned secretive.

Angry again, Anakin replaced the holo-still and glanced around the room, thinking to check the Halls of Healing next.

Then he spotted something that made him instinctively recoil.

A Mandalorian helmet, sitting on the chair, painted in stark black and red and rendered in Death Watch’s style.

Heart hammering, Anakin picked it up and examined it, finding gouges and dents in the beskar alloy, signs of years of wear and tear.

Why was it here? Why was there a Death Watch helmet here, in their rooms? It didn’t make any sense!

His first wild thought was that the extremist group had somehow broken in, taken Obi-Wan, and left this behind. Then he mentally shook himself. That was beyond absurd.

So what then?

Anakin tucked the helmet under his arm and cautiously approached his former Master’s room, pressing the door aside slowly.

Obi-Wan was right there.

Sitting on his bed, dressed only in stained and scorched trousers and an undershirt, his head in his hands. His fingers were buried so deeply in his hair it looked as if he were trying to tear his skull open.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin burst out without intending to, the last few hours of anger, confusion, and momentary panic getting the better of him.

Except the older man didn’t react at all.

“...Hey. Obi-Wan.”

After a pause, the man on the bed shifted slightly, and then sat up. His fingers hastily brushed his hair back into order as he did, and his face, though white as a sheet, was a perfectly blank mask.

Anakin didn’t buy a bit of it.

“Obi-Wan... tell me what’s going on.”

The man who was Obi-Wan but wasn’t acting at all like him gave a slight shrug. “There’s a lot going on, Anakin, we’re at war. What is it you needed at one in the morning?”

Well, at least he knows what time it is.

“You’ve been back for days. I haven’t seen you.”

“Ah. Your ship?”

“I’m not worried about the ship. I’m worried about you. I don’t even know where you were!” Anakin said, his voice rising again. He cut himself off quickly.

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. “I was... on leave.”

“On leave?” Obi-Wan didn’t go on leave. Obi-Wan never stopped working, hadn’t since Geonosis. “You said it was a mission.”

The older Jedi passed a hand over his mouth before speaking again. “I... it wasn’t an endorsed mission. I undertook it myself.”

A non-endorsed mission... “You mean you went off on your own?” Anakin demanded, shocked. “Tell me you weren’t chasing Maul!”

Obi-Wan went white to the lips. He opened his mouth to speak, and then he spotted the helmet under Anakin’s arm and choked on his words, falling dead silent.

Anakin considered for a moment. Then he studied the helmet again. Taking it in.

Death Watch.

Mandalore.

A personal, self-assigned mission.

Satine.

Red and black.

Maul.

“...Oh, Force, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said numbly. Thinking of Padmé. Thinking of Obi-Wan and the confession he’d made to Satine, one that Anakin had not been meant to overhear. “I’m so sorry.”

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He just stared at Anakin for a few moments before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

Anakin set the helmet down on the desk and edged closer to the bed, his eyes on his friend, wary as if he were approaching a traumatized animal. “Can I sit?”

A nod.

Anakin sat down.

“...Is it all right if I hug you?”

A very long pause. A small nod.

Anakin placed his palm on Obi-Wan’s back, then slowly moved so his arm was around the man’s shoulders. When Obi-Wan didn’t pull away, Anakin drew closer, tilting his head down to rest on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Like he had when he was younger, and his Master was the best in the Temple, in the whole galaxy, and there was no war, just missions and too much meditation and time enough to just sit like this when they were tired and overwrought.

Obi-Wan shuddered in his hold. Not repulsed, but something else. Like he was cold.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked.

His friend shook his head, but trembled harder, his breathing fluctuating.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Feel... nauseous,” the redhead mumbled, and then he doubled over, toppling head over heels towards the floor. Anakin cried out, lunged and caught him just in time, hauling his former Master into his arms and holding him, his heart pounding from the sudden shock.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept? Or eaten?” he demanded, thinking of the tea kettle.

“Mm... not since the night I got back. For eating. I don’t know about sleeping. I honestly... can’t remember...” Obi-Wan murmured. He was shivering now, his face pale and twisted with discomfort. He looked too weak to move, and he really must have been, because all he managed when Anakin cradled him closer and stood up with him in his arms was a low groan.

“We’re going to the Halls,” Anakin informed him curtly, striding out of the room with Obi-Wan in his arms, still trembling.

Obi-Wan made a noise of protest, but Anakin shook his head. “No. You need to see Healers.” He watched his friend’s eyes mist over vaguely, with grief or with illness it was hard to say. “I’ll stay with you the whole time,” Anakin vowed, meaning every word. “It’ll be fine. As soon as they’re ready to release you we’ll come right back here and you can sleep in your own bed.”

Obi-Wan mumbled something that seemed to include, ‘not a child.’

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not your Padawan anymore. We still boss each other around. Just how it is,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, tilting his head against Anakin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. Then another. And then he was asleep.

“Damn,” Anakin whispered aloud. “Damn, damn, damn, you’re really not in good shape. You shouldn’t be this easy to carry, for one thing. Dammit, Obi-Wan. Why do you have to be so secretive?”

Is he secretive?

Or have I just never asked, and never listened?

Anakin honestly didn’t know, and that bothered him.

“Sleep, Master,” he murmured, adjusting his arms so that Obi-Wan was more comfortable. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. I promise. I’ve got you. We’re going to make it through this whole damn war, together.”

_

[ghost-in-the-hella]

73. “I missed you.” Gideon/Harrow

Took me a bit to get my head around this one, but I think it worked out well enough in the end. Consider this an AU where the Emperor never summoned the heirs of the Houses and Gideon therefore successfully escaped to the Cohort. Contains some mild spoilers for Harrow the Ninth, I guess? Kind of?

---

In the opinion of Private First Class Gideon Nav - rising BARI star of the Cohort, dirty toenail of the Emperor, ladykiller in her own mind - closing time is the best time. As much as she loves the hustle and bustle of the mess hall during its peak hours - chatting up all the uniformed honeys, filling three or four elaborate orders at a time like the coffee rockstar that she is, showing off her sick coffee-slinging skillz with style and flair rivaled by none - there’s something soothing about the quiet at the end of her shift that speaks to her soul. The mess hall empty save for a handful of stragglers and night owls. The slow work of cleaning the machines. The pervasive near silence in which every move she makes echoes in the cavernous space. 

It reminds her a bit of nights in Drearburh spent jogging in the recyc mist with only the sound of her own footsteps and breath for company, and enough time has passed since those lonesome nights that she can feel a tinge of nostalgia for them even as she internally celebrates her successful escape. She thinks of the Ninth House rarely enough these days that she can indulge in some light nostalgia without immediately feeling salty about the absolute shitshow that was her entire childhood and adolescence. 

Gideon’s got her back to the counter, wiping out a portafilter and whistling a jaunty tune, when she hears someone step up to the counter. She’s about to tell her unfortunate customer that she’s all closed up for the night - technically she’s still got ten minutes on her shift, but she’s already cleaned out the coffee urns and wrapped up the pastries so seriously fuck off already - when she makes the mistake of turning around. She is immediately and viscerally reminded of the Ninth House again the second she locks eyes with the young woman before her, and it’s not just because she looks like a skeleton.

Harrowhark Nonagesimus looks different, of course. She’s almost a year older, for one thing. For another, her face isn’t covered with ten pounds of ancient paint, revealing an awkwardly ferrety visage that Gideon would hardly recognize if it weren’t for the bottomless black eyes in them and how deeply they stare into her golden ones. There are dark shadows under her deeply set eyes that render her face at least partly familiar, as they echo the sockets of a skull. Her mouth is pinched, as if the stick up her ass has finally penetrated all the way to her cranium and jammed her lips shut. Her nose is thin and sharp as a knife. Her chin looks like it would put someone’s eye out if they were fool enough to try to embrace her, assuming Harrow didn’t slit their throat first for the very attempt. She’s wearing Cohort whites rather than her familiar billowing black vestments, and the uniform makes her look sallow and somehow even more painfully thin.

“Griddle,” she says before Gideon can start to wonder if she’s somehow stumbled into an alternate reality. For how different she looks, clearly Harrow hasn’t changed. Gideon rolls her eyes and returns her attention to the portafilter. “Is this how you treat all of your customers?” 

Beneath her typically peevish tone there’s something unfamiliar in Harrow’s voice, something it takes Gideon a good twenty seconds to decipher. Holy shit, Harrow’s nervous. Gideon’s seen Harrow be nervous before, but previously it’s always been buried under considerably more makeup and Gideon generally hasn’t been the cause of it.

“Customer, huh? Sorry, I naturally assumed you were here just to make my life hell again. Drag me back to Drearburh kicking and screaming, something like that. I didn’t think you might actually be here for a cup of coffee.”

“Yes, well, as usual you are mistaken. I was informed that on this deck’s mess hall I would be able to find a coffee adept who’s considered something of a genius with BARI. I certainly didn’t expect it to be you. I thought surely you’d be on the front lines on some distant planet by now.”

Gideon scoffs. “You don’t expect me to believe you joined the Cohort just to get a decent cup of coffee, do you? I mean, I know it’s all ice cold sludge on the Ninth, but damn, girl.” She fetches a porcelain mug (the darkest one she can find: it’s charcoal gray, but that’ll have to do) despite the fact that Harrow has yet to place anything remotely resembling an order and begins preparing her special extra-dark brew. It’s bitter enough that it’s unlikely to overwhelm Harrow’s stunted palette, and she should appreciate its blackness. 

“Of course I didn’t join for the coffee,” Harrow snaps. It’s funny: her face is much more expressive without her skull paint, but Gideon finds it harder to read. “If I’d known you were the so-called BARI star the others keep rattling on about, I wouldn’t have bothered with coffee at all. I was lured into a false sense of security by the word ‘genius.’”

Gideon grins smugly as she flips the mug expertly into place in a daredevil move that usually earns her at least a smile if not a room number. “I guess some folks appreciate my brilliance.” She braces the triple-shot portafilter against the counter with one arm and effortlessly tamps the espresso grounds with the other.

Harrow scowls, and it nearly makes Gideon homesick. “Your brilliance remains to be seen.”

Gideon locks the portafilter into place and hits the brew button, counting off the seconds in her head. “That’s fine; you’ll taste it soon enough.” As the espresso streams beautifully into the mug, Gideon adds a liberal sprinkle from the jar she’s marked Gideon’s Special Dark Mixture of Doom and Ecstasy.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you here so long after your… departure from the Ninth. I assumed you would have been deployed by now.”

“I was,” Gideon says with a shrug as she flicks the espresso machine off, trying not to sound butthurt about it. “Served for nearly a week before I got injured. Caught a leg full of shrapnel defending my commanding officer. I wanted to stay in the field - it was only a damn limp - but they didn’t want to risk me losing the leg to infection.” She removes the portafilter and bangs the wet grounds out into the garbage. “They started me behind the counter here while I was recuperating, found I had a knack for it, and I haven’t been redeployed since.”

Harrow’s face cycles through several dozen expressions that Gideon can’t quite parse before settling on ‘carefully neutral.’ “How is your leg now?”

Gideon stirs the brew with a wooden swizzle stick to help the BARI blend dissolve. “I’ve got some gnarly scarring, but it only hurts first thing in the morning.” And by the end of her shift most days. And if she walks too much, or stands too much, or sits too much. “Don’t worry, though; I look even hotter with the scars.” Gideon winks while Harrow groans, and for a moment feels like old times. She sets the steaming, fragrant mug down in front of Harrow. “So. What’s your story? I didn’t think anything short of a summons from the Emperor Undying himself would lure you out of Drearburh.”

Harrow eyes the drink as if she expects it to bite her. “I have no story,” she says without affect. “I am here to bring honor to my House.”

Gideon wipes the portafilter with the rag at her hip and locks it back into the machine, then hits the brew button to run hot water through it. “That’s some classic Harrowhark Nonagesimus evasive bullshit if I ever heard it. Why are you really here? The congregation finally all die out?” She jabs the button again and the water dribbles to a halt. “Oh, shit, did they finally figure out about your parents??”

“No and no,” Harrow says firmly. She leans in and gives the cup an experimental sniff. “I have simply decided that I can serve my House better as a Cohort necromancer than as the Reverend Daughter. What better way to disseminate the gospel of the Ninth and expand our congregation than by showing the universe what the Ninth House is capable of.” She attempts to take a sip of her drink and promptly scalds her mouth. 

“Careful, it’s hot.” Gideon studies her and shakes her head. “Y’know, you almost had me, but no. Maybe that’s how you rationalize it to Crux and Aiglamene, and maybe even to yourself, but that’s not why you enlisted.”

Harrow looks strangely vulnerable with her pale and naked face and her seared lips. “Would you believe I wanted to test my mettle and prove that I am indeed the greatest necromancer of my generation on the field of battle?”

“No,” Gideon replies bluntly. Harrow’s studying the steaming beverage like she can’t figure out how to drink it without injury, and she probably really can’t. Gideon still remembers how steep her learning curve was when she first encountered hot drinks after nearly two decades of nothing but cold. “Here,” she says, taking pity on her old nemesis. “You’ve got to blow on it to cool it off. Like this.” She bends and purses her lips, cascading cool air over the surface of the hot BARI drink.

The outer edges of Harrow’s ears turn pink. Gideon realizes all at once that Harrow’s not looking at her like she’s a nemesis at all. If Gideon had to classify the look Harrow’s giving her, it’s more akin to how the handful of fellow Cohort recruits she’s hooked up with since enlisting looked at her right before they hooked up. The idea of that look coming from Harrowhark of all people makes her palms sweat. “Harrow,” she says tenderly, as one peels the hard rind from a soft fruit, “Why did you join the Cohort, really?”

Harrow worries her lower lip between her sharp, bone-white teeth until it starts to tear and bleed. “I missed you,” she confesses, dredging the words up painfully like vomit.

Gideon nods as if this were a perfectly normal and comprehensible thing for her oldest - and only, really - enemy to say and not the most unfathomable thing she’s heard in her entire life. “You should aim better next time.”

Harrow turns livid at that. Rather than using her words like a normal human being (because when has Harrow ever done anything like a normal human being?), she snatches up her mug with the expression of someone who’s just taken a step out onto a tightrope only to end up tredding in flaming dogshit. She pivots with a dramatic whirl that doesn’t quite work without her flowing black robes and takes a sip of her coffee as she goes. She stops short and her eyes widen in the universal expression of ‘holy fuck that’s way more delicious than I expected.’

Gideon grins as she heaves herself up onto the counter, sliding across and landing lightly on the other side in a super cool move that would sweep any girl off her feet (even if the girl in question were a dessicated bone witch). “Oh, fuckin’ get over here,” she says, pulling Harrow into a hug that nearly causes her to drop her mug in alarm. “I missed you, too.”

[polaristranslations]

Shinobu Mustard Episode 4

028

"Kanbaru. Do you mind becoming a slave for tonight? Also, lend me your house."

"All right!"

Second slave, secured.

"Oikura. Tonight, become my slave, and cook for me."

"Don't think you'll be able to live until tonight."

Third slave, failed to secure.

The reason for that failure was most likely because I'd been a hurry and said "my slave"... Well, it wasn't like I could tell her to become the slave of a golden-haired, golden-eyed girl.

And because of her connections with Gaen-san, I couldn't exactly get Kanbaru fully involved in this either, so renting her house for one night should be good enough.

As the "citadel" of the king of oddities.

I'd heard yesterday that her grandparents were out on a trip, so Kanbaru could stay over at Higasa-chan's house or even Karen's room in the Araragi house and hold a pajama party there, while I was allowed to do whatever I liked in the meantime.

I knew it made me sound like an outlaw, but it was a decision I couldn't avoid—the only building I could think of in this town that could serve as a vampire's stronghold was Kanbaru's mansion.

Just as the death-prepared, death-inevitable, death-certain vampire, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster, had once taken up residence in the "Castle of Corpses", the iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded vampire, Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, needed a building of suitable pedigree in which to take up residence.

It was fairly Japanese-style for a castle—or rather it was just a Japanese mansion—but hopefully, this being Suicidemaster's first visit to Japan, she wouldn't be able to differentiate between castles and mansions in Japan... Not that I, a Japanese person, could.

"But no, I didn't say that just because I wanted to show off. If Suicidemaster were to learn that her former thrall who she came to visit had been rendered harmless and sealed in the shadow of a pervert—nay, human—she may close herself off entirely. We won't be able to hear a single shred of information. In the worst case, you might even be killed. Would you be fine with that?"

"No, I wouldn't, but..."

"In that case, become my slave again like you were in last year's spring break, and prepare a castle and a banquet. To make my reign more convincing. If you can secure two or three more fake thralls, then that would be great."

The slave sealed in my shadow stuck out her chest in pride and ordered me as such from the child seat.

Erm...

"So basically, you want to greet your old pal with a master-servant relationship in that sort of fashion?"

"Fashion is important in hospitality. I'm pretty strict on fashion. Like a Parisienne."

"No, rather than a Parisienne, you're more like a putting-on-airs-ienne. Respectfully speaking, Shinobu. Wouldn't a petty trick like this just be found out immediately..."

"Oh, you're already getting into it. 'Respectfully speaking', you say? Ka ka, you're an expert at acting like a slave already! Have you done this before? Wait, of course you have! Ka ka, keep it up for the real thing!"

With a loud laugh as if she'd already gotten accustomed to being the master, Shinobu sunk back into the shadows... It almost looked like she was assimilating with the child seat.

What a mess. She'd appeared as if she was going to listen to my concerns, but then she just said whatever she wanted to—however, as soon as I parked my New Beetle in the parking lot, before I went inside, it was then that I called Kanbaru, who'd been in the middle of her morning run, and Oikura, who'd been indulging in her slumber at her lodgings.

Kanbaru had eagerly agreed (it was scary how eager she was, but I decided to call her back and discuss it properly, as well as other things), while Oikura had refused (if I left her alone, she'd probably call me back, so at that point, I'll more or less apologize from the bottom of my heart... and ask for her home cooking separately).

Well, Shinobu putting on airs was the same as always.

I almost wanted to tell her to be more show-offy towards me, but considering the way she was cooperating for this case, I couldn't bluntly refuse that honesty... I had better properly inform Gaen-san about this, too.

Thinking about it, Kanbaru was the "niece of that Gaen-san", but in reverse, Gaen-san was the "aunt of that Kanbaru". What if Gaen-san casually went, "I'll do it, too! Let me be a slave, too!" after I went to her with our plans?... I didn't want to see Gaen-san like that.

What an odd family they were.

On the other hand, even though my parents were ordinary, upright public servants, why had all their children turned out like that?

Speaking of which, the fact that only the members of the girls' basketball team of Naoetsu High were being attacked could be rephrased as "only Kanbaru's juniors were being attacked", so maybe it was a good idea to think about things with her as the focal point.

Even if the gourmet Suicidemaster were only able to dine on "Princess Beauty", Kanbaru Suruga was the daughter (in other words, the direct descendant) of Gaen Tooe, who's practically talked about as if she were a legend—so for the club members that were under her influence, the possibility of them being targeted is...

Although, in that case, maybe Kanbaru herself would be targeted? Actually, it was fairly possible that that was the case—and if so, then using Kanbaru's house as a meeting place wasn't a bad idea, if only to see Suicidemaster's reaction, but Kanbaru herself should probably be kept far away.

That was what ran through my mind as I wandered around the campus of Manase University to kill time, having arrived earlier than expected (it was a fairly expansive university, and I still hadn't seen all of the campus yet. Supposedly, it would take over four years to check out all of the facilities—what was this, the British Museum?), but once it got close to 7:45 am, I knocked on the door to the lecture hall for my international linguistics class.

Although it was called "linguistics", it was different from classes on foreign languages in that it put languages from all over the world, both famous and unknown, on equal footing and compared them in detail. Ultimately, an unproductive course with no destination in sight—there were many incomprehensible courses like this in college.

But I liked that sort of incomprehensible stuff. Could this be Ougi-chan's influence?

It was a liberal arts course unusual for someone in the mathematics department to take, and it was hard to say that the course was particularly popular even taking into account how early in the morning it was, but for Meniko, whose goal was to work with codes in the future, there was no way she couldn't take this course—well, for her, international linguistics probably wasn't even an "incomprehensible course" (in exchange, Meniko was bad with normal foreign language study).

"Hola. Araragi-chan, you're ea~arly. How diligent of you~u."

"I dunno about being called early when you're here in your seat before me. Hola."

Not to mention, I planned on skipping class after this. Unfortunately (or not), today's lecture hadn't been canceled.

It seemed I'd have to borrow Meniko's notes another day—the number of favors I was asking her was increasing. Someday, I'd better do something for her in return.

I bumped fists with Meniko and sat down next to her, and then asked, "Do you mind if I asked you to decipher another code?", showing her the sequence of numbers that I had displayed on my cell phone.

"Hmm. Hmm, hmm?"

A normal person, after being asked to solve codes like these two days in a row, would find it strange and ask for my intentions before even trying, but this was Hamukai Meniko—she couldn't not solve a code that was put before her.

It was a difficult personality, but I liked that about her... It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but neither I nor my proud network of friends from high school were people that moved without some reason or purpose.

Even Hanekawa and Oshino.

And even the violent onmyouji Kagenui-san that was heading towards this town was actually a person of reason—she moved according to her own, unique logic.

As a result, there had been a time when I'd thought that people were just like that, but after becoming friends with Meniko, I came to learn that there were people who weren't like that—I'd been enlightened.

Meniko also seemed to be rather interested in the fact that I was (in a rough estimate) rather logical about things, so I suppose it was a mutual thing.

In order to maintain this relationship, I didn't dare introduce Meniko to any of my other connections, such as Oikura, even by mistake—of course, I had absolutely no intention of breaking off my connection with Oikura, who I had reconnected with after entering university, but as for her... Rather than our connection being broken off, it could be more like she herself would snap.

"A cell phone, huh. Was the code recorded in a cell phone?"

"Yep. Although I don't know if that holds any meaning..."

"That's tru~ue. These days, cell phones are like a part of our brains now, aren't they? Some people criticize the fact that when you go on a trip, you end up looking at the scenery through the small screen of your smartphone, but looking at something with the camera of your smartphone is basically the same as looking at it with your own eyes. Maybe when people complain about train passengers playing with their cell phones, it's a sign that they've failed to pair their phones with themselves?"

I hadn't exactly mastered the use of a cell phone myself, so it was hard for me to wholeheartedly agree, but, well, it wasn't like I didn't understand what she was saying.

"Anyway, this time it's only numbers, huh. Hm. I did solve it, bu~ut."

"Already? You're really the one that's early to things, aren't you. The truth is, I didn't have the slightest idea."

It wasn't like I didn't feel helpless when delegating the whole thing to Meniko, so I'd thought that I'd challenge it on my own in the period of time before I took it to her, but I'd spent most of that time on Shinobu's matter.

"It doesn't seem like putting it on a phone and not on paper really mattered? But numbers are easy to make into a code, aren't the~ey. Languages can vary from region to region, depending on grammar and culture, but numbers are worldwi~ide. No matter where in the universe you are, one plus one is two, and a prime number is a prime number, ri~ight?"

"That's not actually the case. For example, in Nepalese, the representations for '1' and '9' look similar, so when a Japanese person sees them, the math wouldn't add up at a glance. The logic would look completely wrong. Also, it's only in Japan where people use the '正' kanji to count to five, and for someone like me, the little horizontal bar used to distinguish a '7' from a '1' is enough to make me not think of it as a '7'".

"I see. For someone like me, a '7' with a horizontal bar looks kind of like the kanji for seven [七] upside down, so I end up getting those confu~used. So you're above me when it comes to that, huh, Araragi-cha~an."

There wasn't really an above or a below in this exchange, but aah, I wanted to have a conversation like this.

I suddenly realized.

When Shinobu—when Princess Acerola, as "Princess Beauty"—went about destroying countries... When she was a human, did she feel the same way as this when she met a vampire?

Even though it was a relationship of eat or be eaten.

The interpretation that they were vampire and thrall, or master and slave, was at odds with the lighthearted way in which she spoke of her as an "old pal".

She had said that she'd reflected from that time with Shishirui Seishirou, so I'd interpreted it as the master-slave relationship having been reversed, but what if it wasn't that? What if Suicidemaster really was just a "friend" to Shinobu?

Like, for example, Kanbaru and Higasa-chan.

According to Hachikuji, Suicidemaster had called Shinobu a friend as well.

A friend, huh.

There had been a fiercely determined class representative who had declared, "If I can't die for someone, I wouldn't call that person a friend". But what if Shinobu wanted to meet Suicidemaster with that in mind?

Did I have the qualification to stop her?

Talking about qualifications at this point was what made me, me—regret may always come too late, but logic always took precedence. If I ultimately acted upon my emotions, then I would most likely act too late to a disgusting extent.

I should learn a bit from my new friend.

What I wanted was not qualifications, but qualities.

"Hmm. Araragi-chan, what's the matter? Thinking about something?"

"No, I'm trying hard not to think about something. So, what's the answer to the code?"

"Like yesterday, I managed to solve it, but it's a dead-end that isn't really refreshing. Even though I managed to decode it, it just leaves me stressed aga~ain. But it ended up being letters of the alphabet aga~ain."

"Alphabet—then, 'D/V/S'?"

"No~ope. This time, it's 'F/C'."

"F/C"?

029

"If 'F/C' are also initials, I wonder if there's someone from the girls' basketball team who has those initials," said Gaen-san, the human representative of logic, after hearing my report.

We were once again in Naoetsu General Hospital, in yet another hospital room different from the three we'd been in earlier—the hospital room where Kanguu Misago-chan's mummy had been put up.

"I wonder if the message was left on a cell phone to hint at that. Since they had matching straps with their initials."

"Aah... That's right, they did have those," I said.

In that sense, I would've had more hints to decipher it than Meniko did.

It wasn't really a contest, but I did find it a bit frustrating.

"By the way, Kanguu-chan also had a strap. Since she's Kanguu Misago, it was 'M K'."

"Eh? But wait, Gaen-san. Wouldn't that mean that the vampire that we're looking for is actually among the members of the girls' basketball team?"

If, not the dying message, but the living message was indicating a specific member's initials, and Suicidemaster was being falsely accused of a crime, then that would be it.

"F C".

"Not necessarily. It could be that Kanguu-chan, in a hazy state of mind, was just trying to write the name of a friend she thought of. Or it's an act of deception to make us think that way. In other words, diversionary tactics by Suicidemaster."

A vampire trying to blame a human for their vampirism—it seemed a little narrow-minded, almost pitiful at that, and not at all in line with the image of a vampire. Well, if we can consider the possibility that the crime is being pinned on Suicidemaster, why can't we consider the opposite?

Taking it to extremes, it was even possible now that this was a diversionary tactic to make us think that everything was fabricated, like a deduction in a honkaku mystery.

Us people of logic.

"You're right. It would be too unexpected a truth for there to be a vampire among the club members."

"I don't remember explicitly denying that possibility. You can't say for sure that there aren't more oddities like you, Koyomin, that put on an air of innocence and casually attend school, right?"

"Again with the jokes."

And this was a bad joke, at that.

The phrasing of "air of innocence" felt like biting words.

"It's not entirely a joke, though. Well, this is just a brute force through all the possibilities at the moment. Like a canvassing operation done by throwing more people at the problem. It's true that, as a result of last night's events, the suspicion placed on Suicidemaster has faded. 'F C' seems like it would be fairly rare for initials, so I'm sure we'll be able to narrow it down to just a few girls out of the hundred on the basketball team..."

As she spoke, Gaen-san began flipping through the register of names borrowed from Higasa-chan, beginning her check. I'd promised not to make any copies of it, so it was the original document.

"For reference, do you mind if I ask, Koyomin? About how the code was deciphered. It's possible that the method can also provide a hint for us."

"Understood. However, I don't think it'll be very relevant."

"I'd like to hear it anyway. I may not exactly be a sciences person, but it's not like I hate number puzzles. It's a great way to exercise the mind and relax."

Relax?

Putting aside exercising the mind... She didn't really look like it, but was Gaen-san actually stressed right now? With this incident taking longer than expected, Kagenui-san drawing closer to the town with every moment, and my betrayal that must not be forgotten, well, there were plenty of things that could be cause for concern.

Well, if revealing the trick is somehow relaxing, then I'll gladly do so.

It's atonement for my infidelity.

"However, this code ended up not being a number puzzle. It had nothing to do with prime numbers, either—though it's still in the sciences, it was not mathematics, but the field of natural sciences."

"Natural sciences? If we're talking about fields, in middle school, they'd divide the natural sciences into the 'first field' for physics and chemistry, and the 'second field' for biology and geology."

"In that respect, it would be the first field—Celsius and Fahrenheit."

In other words, temperature notation.

Like numbers, temperature was the same throughout the world, or perhaps even throughout the universe, and high temperatures were high, low temperatures were low, and absolute zero was absolute zero—but temperature wasn't notated in the same way everywhere. The units differed.

And that difference was Celsius and Fahrenheit.

"Ah—that's why it's 'F' and 'C'?"

As expected of a logical person, she caught on fast. After speaking, Gaen-san flipped the register shut—it seemed she'd finished checking it all.

She was even fast at reading.

"But how does '820/280/610/160' become Celsius and Fahrenheit? Although, since Celsius is 'C' and Fahrenheit is 'F', perhaps I should ask how it becomes Fahrenheit and Celsius."

"For both Celsius and Fahrenheit, a '°' is placed in the top right direction to denote 'degrees'. In the same place where you would write an exponent."

"Do an explanation like that for a science major. I got it just from you saying 'in the top right direction'—don't go off in a completely different direction, Koyomin. And?"

"We look at the '0' in the code and interpret it as a '°'—basically, the '0' in '820', the '0' in '280', the '0' in '610', and the '0' in '160', all the zeroes at the end of the numbers, should not be taken as numbers but as symbols. Then, '820/280/610/160' becomes '82°/28°/61°/16°'."

"Aha. Highest and lowest temperatures, huh?"

That was exactly it.

The code that had been left behind was showing yesterday's temperature, represented in both Celsius and Fahrenheit—just like the Rosetta Stone, which could be described as the originator of cryptanalysis.

However, the essential letters of the alphabet were missing—"F" and "C".

"That's why, 'F/C' becomes the deciphered text to the code. Oh, but if they're initials, you can't really call that a text. But I see. It's amazing that someone could come up with something like that."

"Yes. Checking the daily high and low temperatures may be natural for an athletic person, but even then, I don't think they would have been able to come up with that in their hazy state of mind."

"No, my intention was to praise your friend, Koyomin."

It would be a bit troublesome if you show too much interest in her.

If you point your finger at her.

This was entirely my own self-interest, but I'd like to settle this case before I needed to ask for help with a third code...

But after relying on Hachikuji and getting Shinobu's cooperation and borrowing Kanbaru's house, I'd strayed pretty far from what I'd originally intended, so maybe next time I'd just give up and go to Ougi-chan for help with the cryptanalysis... Although, that girl likes to be befuddling, so she definitely wouldn't just give me the answer straight up like Meniko.

She was also a person of logic. A mysterious form of logic.

But anyway, let's return to the main subject.

For the sake of protecting Meniko, and for the sake of resolving this case.

"But anyway, how many people in the girls' basketball club have the initials 'F C'? Although we'd probably need to check whether that girl has a strap or not..."

Since the first mummy, Harimaze Kie-chan, didn't have a strap on her phone, it wasn't a given that everyone had a matching strap. Perhaps, within the club, that small level of resistance against peer pressure was allowed.

"There were as much as zero people."

"Eh? What did you say?"

"Sorry, that was a weird way to put it. Zero. There were none, is what I meant. Girls with 'F C' as their initials, that is."

030

"Have you looked for the reverse order? You know, when representing the name of a Japanese person, there's the pattern of 'first/last name' and 'last/first name'."

"Of course. There were none like that, either."

Could Meniko's solution have been wrong?

No, there was no way.

"I wonder if we should expand the range of possibilities. Should we include the third-years that have already retired as candidates?"

"Umm..."

It wasn't impossible to ask Higasa-chan through Kanbaru for a list of the OG members, but I wasn't sure. If we expanded it that far, it felt like the possibilities would be endless.

It didn't seem too productive to force the solution into the initials 'F C' and look for a person that matched, either... Rare as the initials might be, it wasn't like there was nobody with those initials.

"We did figure out that the victims were members of the girls' basketball team using the straps as the hint, but like with 'D/V/S', maybe there's a famous vampire with those initials?"

"The vampires here are from overseas, after all. It's normal to add a middle name... It's unnatural to have initials with just two letters."

"Is that so..."

I'd ended up bothering Meniko with this (though she'd been happy about it) and I'd ended up skipping class (though I probably would have skipped class anyway), but it didn't end up being that much of a hint... Well, even Oshino had said that fieldwork was a cycle of futility.

It was important not to dwell on it.

"By the way, Gaen-san. You don't seem to be in that good of a mood, so is it possible that you received more unpleasant news while I was out?"

"Hm? Did it seem that way to you? I was trying to act calm about it, but this onee-san that knows everything must be losing face to receive your concern, Koyomin. Even though I want to be an onee-san you can always rely on."

"No, no. Gaen-san, you're always an older woman that I can rely on..."

"I'm not trying to be a dependable older woman. No, but anyway, Koyomin. Your worries were right on the mark. The contents of a high school girl's cell phone weren't something we should have looked at."

And the fact that it hasn't produced any good results so far is nearly breaking my heart, said Gaen-san as she laid eyes upon the mummy on the bed—the owner of the cell phone, Kanguu Misago-chan.

Having been made to wear a patient gown and laid to rest on the bed... I didn't want to say I was getting familiar with the sight, but I was getting used to it.

When humans become nothing but skin and bones, it's hard to distinguish between them—their height became ambiguous when laid down, and since they were in a sports club, their hair was fairly short, so it was hard to distinguish them that way, too.

Kanbaru had also had a short haircut when she'd been active... Don't tell me it wasn't just because they were in a sports club, but because they were following after Kanbaru...?

Everyone doing the same thing... Hm?

"Even so, this onee-san won't be surprised any more. Seriously, after being shown the ugly side of human relations, I won't even be scared of vampires."

"Being shown? Gaen-san, you're the one who went and looked at it yourself."

"And I have nothing to say in response to that. They say you're not supposed to check your partner's phone, and that's completely true. If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

What was in that phone, exactly?

Honestly, if she said it like that, it made me even more curious... However, it probably was better to not ask. For the sake of respecting their privacy, and for the sake of my own health... If Gaen-san ended up like that, I might even end up hospitalized as a result.

And if it wasn't producing any good results, then all the more reason not to.

"Well, I suppose the girls' basketball team is pretty unique. If this sort of thing was commonplace... Well, it's not something I want to think about, as an adult. Their club activities are certainly strange. It felt like they were bullying themselves."

"But aren't all athletic clubs more or less like that? Even more so if you're a powerhouse."

Or rather, a former powerhouse. In the case of Naoetsu High.

Of course, that may have intensified that athletic mindset...

"Mm. I've always had a commander-like nature since I was in high school, but even then, I was still pretty incompatible with those sports-minded people."

"So there was a time when you were a high school girl, Gaen-san."

"It's not like this onee-san was always an onee-san from the moment she was born. Or an older woman."

"That wasn't what I meant... But even so, the hardest person to imagine as a high school girl would probably be Kagenui-san."

She didn't seem like she would be in the liberal arts or the sciences, or in a cultural club or a sports club... What kind of high school girl would she have been?

"That girl was actually a surprisingly diligent student. Although I only knew her as a college student, not a high school student. She's the only one from that trio to graduate without dropping out."

Is that so.

Human beings really couldn't be described one-sidedly, huh.

"Oh nooo. While I carelessly stepped into a colony of high school girls and got my feet stuck in a murky, bottomless swamp, Kagenui will probably arri~ive!"

Even if you lament the word "arri~ive" all cutely like that, that in itself seemed more lamentable.

Please remain a reliable older woman.

"It may be fine for me to think this way, but Gaen-san, aren't you being a little too cautious regarding your junior? She may be a bit uncontrollable, but it's not like she completely ignores the orders you give her, right?"

In the first place, Kagenui-san was coming all the way back from the North Pole because she was called by Gaen-san—plus, if she were truly uncontrollable, she would've ignored any sort of harmless certification and gotten rid of Shinobu and me.

Though she was infinitely violent, that was just a matter of the way she did things, and it should be possible to talk things out—she was a person of logic, too.

"That's right. It's true that, if I explain the circumstances, she might understand the reasoning behind why it's not necessary to exterminate Suicidemaster. It might even be possible to certify her as harmless, with how much of a little girl she's become."

Even while stuck in a bottomless swamp of high school girls, it seemed she'd long since considered the things I'd thought of, with the way she spoke.

"Yes. In fact, as soon as I'd heard that Suicidemaster had broken through Hachikuji-chan's mayoi-ushi barrier, those thoughts had already crossed my mind. It wasn't that Suicidemaster had broken through the barrier with brute force, but simply that she had been weakened to the point that the barrier didn't even react."

"......"

Was that even possible?

It sounded pretty painful and distressing, considering that she was the progenitor who birthed and named the legendary oddity.

"Even in that state, she should still be able to suck the blood of high school girls, so just by being in this town, nothing has changed regarding her being the prime suspect. However, the reason she became a mummy might not be because she was attacked by someone, but because she'd weakened to the point that she entered cryptobiosis by herself."

"In that case, would that mean she was the one to bury herself in the mountain?"

"Yes, it would be safer in the dirt, after all. The cryptobiotic-sleep, hibernation-sleep, dozing-sleep vampire. In that case, perhaps she was attempting to make her way back to Hachikuji-chan who was in charge of immigration control, and collapsed along the way. Well, we're still just brute forcing the possibilities here—the strongest possibility is still that she grew so hungry that she attacked a high school girl, but for now, we can apply the principle of innocent until proven guilty. But the problem is, that won't work on Kagenui."

"...Why is that?"

She sure was stubborn in a weird way.

In a sense, she was pretty laid-back to even put her faith in someone like me, but right now, Gaen-san was being weirdly obstinate in regards to Kagenui-san.

"Well, this is just between us, but they share a bit of a past. The problem at hand, Suicidemaster, and the even bigger problem, Kagenui."

"The problem—and the bigger problem."

"Even if Suicidemaster happened to not be the culprit for this case, and even if it's possible for her to be certified as harmless after not having harmed a human for the past six hundred years—even then, they share a past that makes it impossible to stop Kagenui. Though justice is the only thing that can put that unorthodox onmyouji in check, she's very likely to move out of a personal grudge for this time alone."

G—grudge?

That bundle of justice?

"If I make the wrong move, I may find myself having to excommunicate yet another junior. And I don't want to do that."

031

Kagenui-san's personal grudge probably wasn't something that other people should be prying into, so let's return to the main subject. Although the main subject was a ghost story with intense pressure. But anyway, back to the main subject.

The risk of intruding into her private life had been clearly demonstrated, and Gaen-san, who had hinted at it, didn't dare tell me the details of her past—perhaps she'd let it slip after being embroiled in the high school girls' darkness.

Speaking of being embroiled, it seemed that the reason Gaen-san associated the initials "F C" with the members of the girls' basketball team was not only because of the alphabet strap, but because she'd looked into the darkness of the club displayed on Kanguu Misago-chan's cell phone and had been influenced by it (it seemed she even considered the possibility that, in her dazed state, Kanguu-chan thought she could pin the crime on a team member that she had some friction with). But in the register, there was no one with those initials—and, as long as there was no initial for a middle name included, it likely wasn't the vampire's signature, either.

Before expanding our reach to the OG girls, one more possibility came to my mind.

"What if these aren't initials, but an abbreviation for something in English?"

"Abbreviation? ...In other words, something other than a person's name?"

Normally, Gaen-san would have come up with something in an instant, but at the moment, she'd been caught up in the murky mires of those high school girls... And it could be even more damaging to her as an adult.

I've learned that the private life of others is nothing but poison.

"It probably isn't 'franchise (FC)'��then maybe it's something like 'football club (FC)'?"

It seemed appropriate.

First a basketball club, now a football club.

It also wasn't impossible to interpret it as a franchise of making vampire thralls, forced as it was—but there was no need to twist it that much.

But before we went to Naoetsu High's soccer team, we couldn't forget the other organization in that high school that we should consider.

"'Fan club (FC)'."

"Hm?"

"There was something like that. In the past—well, it wasn't that far in the past—an unofficial fan club for the superstar Kanbaru Suruga."

It was an organization separate from the girls' basketball team, yet was an organization that was strongly influenced by Kanbaru, in a way different from the girls' basketball team.

It was something that came to mind after thinking that all the mummies' hairstyles were the same—let's see, as I recall, that fan club's name was "Kanbaru Soeurs"?

"What's that? Is it something like the Rukawa Kaede Imperial Guard?"

"Exactly. But somehow they ended up getting involved with me and I forced them into disbanding—"

"That's something really scary you're saying as just an introduction, Koyomin. Forced them into disbanding. You really are a delinquent like the rumors say, aren'tcha?"

"I think the remnants of that fan club could be related to this case."

As much as the hypothesis that there was a vampire among the girls' basketball team members was incredible to believe, the possibility that there was a vampire mixed in with Kanbaru Suruga's fan club was just as ridiculous.

But we weren't in a situation where we could afford not to consider ridiculous possibilities just because they were ridiculous.

"That's a fact that this onee-san that knows everything didn't exactly need to know. Ah, yes, but my dear sister had a cheerleading squad like that when she was in high school, too."

"It doesn’t seem like it will have much of a connection, but I suppose I should do something now that I've thought of it. She wasn't a member of the fan club herself, but my little sister is pretty close with that organization, so I'll look into it just a teeny bit."

"Your little sister?"

I looked at Gaen-san's clouded expression.

"My little sister (the bigger one)," I amended.

After hearing that, Gaen-san seemed to relax, smiling.

"You mean Karen-chan. Okay, do as you see fit. But, out of concern—from this old lady's point of view—please don't bring Tsukihi-chan into this. Of course, Koyomin, you were originally the one who said you didn't want to cause trouble for your family, but even discounting the thing with Yozuru, things that go well just don't go well when Tsukihi-chan is involved."

She's talking about you in a pretty amazing way, my little sister (the smaller one).

"And, I apologize for the late report, but Shinobu laid out some conditions for her cooperation in Suicidemaster's interrogation."

I presented an outline of the master-servant reversal to Gaen-san. Even though the plan seemed like it would be laughable regardless of the time, place, or occasion...

"Right, that sounds good."

I received the commander's approval.

Of course, she didn't say anything like "I'll do it, too! Let me be a slave, too!"

"Although, rather than an interrogation, it's practically an undercover operation at this point—but if Suicidemaster mistakenly sees that Shinobu-chan is doing well in this country, then she might end up chattering away without any caution."

Mistakenly. Well, she would certainly be mistaken.

Rather than "doing well", she'd been on the verge of being exterminated, on the verge of being killed, and on the verge of death, and in the end failed to die, turned into a little girl, and then ended up sealed in a teenager's shadow.

At any rate, seeing as I'd gotten the go-ahead to put the plan into action, it was inevitable—I wasn't sure if I could pull off the part of a slave, but I would do what I could.

"In that case, even if it didn't have to do with the fan club, I figure I should have a proper discussion with Kanbaru about this, but is there anything I should be careful about when talking to her? The situation has completely changed from yesterday."

"Something to be careful about... I'd like if you could avoid the storm entirely. I know you might feel a sense of duty, but don't go poking your nose into the murky depths of your juniors."

Her advice was not as a specialist but as a person with more seniority in life, but I wanted Kanbaru, too, to follow these words of Gaen-san, who was called a senior by various people.

Even if I couldn't mention Gaen-san's name.

Even if I doubted that Kanbaru would actually follow them.

"I'll stay at this hospital and do my best with the cell phone analysis while waiting for a report from the search party and preparing for the night."

"I'll meet up with Karen-chan and Kanbaru, and if I have some spare time I'll go drop in on Oikura."

"Putting aside your childhood friend, when it comes to your little sister and Suruga, there's no need to wait up until they come back from school. Koyomin, I think you should go back home at least once for a nap. Though I know all-nighters aren't hard on you thanks to your vampire constitution, you must still be at your limit, right?"

That was true.

Thinking about it, vampires, being nocturnal, did go to sleep in the daytime... Just as Shinobu was doing right now.

The truth was, I'd been working out a plan to drop in on Oikura's place until school let out for the day, but it seemed I'd have to abandon that idea.

Even sleeping was work.

Well, if it was around this time, that mathematics maniac was probably in class, too...

"Ah. I know. I'll split the difference and go to Oikura's place to sleep. I have a spare key, after all."

"Childhood friendships are pretty hard for other people to pry into, huh."

032

I decided to just go to my own home. Of course I needed to catch up on sleep, but I wanted to take a bath, too. Alas, I didn't have any clothes to change into at Oikura's place. I'll do something about that later.

Afterwards, I thought about saying thanks to Ononoki-chan for last night—since I'd left in a hurry, I hadn't been able to talk to her about how she relayed Hachikuji's message to me, or how she called over Gaen-san to the mountain after that.

From Ononoki-chan's point of view, I'd gotten a fortune slip and left all of a sudden, and then decided to go to hell—I probably seemed pretty weird to her... I couldn't bear being thought of as a weird guy by Ononoki-chan.

With both parents working, the first daughter a high schooler, and the second daughter a middle schooler, the Araragi house was generally empty in the daytime—I would be able to speak to Ononoki-chan, who'd infiltrated the house as a stuffed doll, without reservations.

It was one thing to give my thanks, but I figured I may as well tell her that Kagenui-san was approaching this town like a hurricane—for Gaen-san and me, it was an approach that was currently fairly inconvenient, but it could be good news for Ononoki-chan, who idolizes (?) Kagenui-san as an "onee-chan".

Because Ononoki-chan was busy with something else, she wasn't participating in this incident, but it wasn't like she was intentionally left out of the loop, unlike Shinobu until she found out—if the conversation went well, perhaps I'd be able to learn about the past between Suicidemaster and Kagenui-san, which I had failed to ask about, or rather, which I had wanted to hear but didn't want to hear.

Perhaps those ulterior motives led to my ruin, for when I arrived home, it was not just my parents and sisters but also that expressionless, frilly-dressed stuffed doll that was absent.

It seemed that young girl was even busier than public servants and middle school students, though not college students.

Well, I'd like to hear as much as what she had to say, but I didn't think it was a past that I wanted to dig into myself... If anything, maybe what I should be doing is to let the foreshadowing die so that her past doesn't get revealed?

Araragi Koyomi, killing the foreshadowing.

With that, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief, I took a shower and crawled into bed.

It seemed I'd been more tired than I realized (perhaps out of worry, too), so I slept soundly until the afternoon, waking only to the sound of Karen's return—despite her training in martial arts, she was a lot noisier in her movements, so it was easy to hear.

"Yo, Karen-chan. By the way, I wanted to ask about Kanbaru's fan club."

"That's way too direct. I haven't even taken off my shoes yet! At least welcome me back. You gotta have some sort of introduction before starting off the main topic with a 'by the way'. What happened?"

Araragi Karen. 16 years old.

She was super tall. My bigger little sister.

Tsuganoki Private High School first-year. She did not take part in any clubs, and continued to attend a martial arts dojo—something like that.

Also, her hairstyle returned to a ponytail.

"Kanbaru-sensei's fan club? Ah, aah. The one that nii-chan smashed up, huh."

"If I didn't break them up, they would've broken me. Just remembering it now, it's super scary."

The fact that she was still calling her Kanbaru-sensei was pretty considerable, but then again, the way Karen yearned for Kanbaru was... pretty unique.

I couldn't exactly give a thorough explanation of the circumstances, so I simply said, "Have you heard anything about, say, them having resumed activities?" and continued the conversation without explaining my reasons.

"Mmm. No, I don't think they have. When an organization like that comes apart once, it's pretty hard to reorganize."

"Is that so?"

"The crux, Kanbaru-sensei, retired, after all. Fans easily heat up and easily cool down."

I see... I guess it was like that.

Just as Karen said, if Kanbaru had continued to be active, then perhaps the fan club could have been passed down to the next generation, but now that the target of their admiration had retired, it was probably hard to gather new members.

And Kanbaru herself wasn't the kind of person that liked attracting that kind of attention, too—I had to admit I felt a bit elated at the inspiration of reading the deciphered code "F/C" as fan club... But I guess it wasn't that easy.

When comparing the girls' basketball team, of which Kanbaru had been a member, with the fan club, which was unofficial and separate... The quality was certainly different—if it became a fan club full of stoicism that could enforce ironclad laws without the actual person in question, it would be one of the best in Japan.

If only it had been "C/F", then it could at least have been read as "center forward", a basketball position...

Well, whether the culprit was in the girls' basketball team or in the fan club, it didn't change the reality that the vampire might be nonchalantly attending Naoetsu High—if that was even possible.

Of course, even though Gaen-san had been trying to implicate me, there were quite a few students that had gotten entangled with oddities, like Senjougahara Hitagi, Hanekawa Tsubasa, Kanbaru Suruga, or Oshino Ougi.

Well, a high school girl being a vampire did make for a prettier picture than a high school boy being a vampire—oh yeah.

"Karen-chan. You're a high school girl now, right?"

"What's with that, all of a sudden? But, that's right. I've become able to get married."

"That's not because you're a high school girl, it's because you've turned 16 years old. If anything, you've gotten harder to marry. Especially for me."

"Nii-chan, for you I'm the most difficult person in the world to marry. I'm your little sister!"

"How does it feel to be a high school girl? Is everything going well with your new friends?"

Regrettably, I pretended to be an overprotective older brother and started a survey to try and collect some live opinions—could even Karen be mired in the murky depths that had been a downer for the easygoing Gaen-san?

"I dunno what sort of school life you mean by 'going well', but this new world is pretty fun. I almost want to go to school on the weekends, too."

That's pretty insane.

But that's true, it's not like all high school girls have a dark side to them. There are individual differences, and it depends on the environment and the situation.

To put it in a good way, Karen's personality was endlessly bright, and to put it in a bad way, she was endlessly idiotic, but that wasn't just it—when surrounded by a stiff atmosphere, even the brightest idiot would lose some of that excitement. However, Karen was a follower of Kanbaru—

"—Oh yeah. Can I ask one more thing, Karen-chan?"

"What is it now? Today, it's all questions and no groping my boobs, huh."

"Don't talk like groping your boobs is a regular occurrence. I'm not going to touch them. This year."

"It was a problem when you've been touching them for the last year. Touching a girl's boobs like you were kneading clay. And? What's the question you were gonna ask?"

"You know the Fire Sisters, that you and Tsukihi-chan were a part of? You guys disbanded after you graduated, right? What happened after that?"

"Whaddya mean what happened. I told you, didn't I? Now, Tsukihi-chan's working hard on her own as Moon Fire."

I may have heard that before, but regrettably, the information she had on her sister was a bit vague.

Not that I could speak for others, considering I was the same way when it came to that sister.

What I wanted to ask was how the community of Tsuganoki 2nd Middle School changed after Karen, the mainstay and core of the school, left, like with the girls' basketball team—wasn't there anything like a war to be the replacement for Tsukihi's partner, or any sort of factional strife?

"Oh, for that, Tsukihi-chan, as the staff officer, handled it pretty well. For better or worse, Tsukihi-chan thinks she's so special that she doesn't expect anyone else, including me, to be able to imitate her."

I see. I'd been worried about my youngest sister's (excessive) self-consciousness, but that was an insight.

As is often the case with hard-working superstars, Kanbaru's self-esteem was quite low, and she had a tendency to believe that "anyone can do what I can do if they work hard enough"—that was something I could appreciate from a human perspective. However, if someone that was charismatic on a national level said such empty words as "if you work hard, your dreams will come true", then it would lead to a generation of people that actually buy into it.

Even though it wasn't Kanbaru's fault, the current state of the girls' basketball team was probably a climate formed by such a belief in hard work.

If I had to say it, when Kanbaru retired from the club because of her left arm, she should've picked a proper successor instead of leaving everything to Higasa-chan—though it was useless to say that now.

"Tsukihi-chan is basically a 'wasted effort is wasted' kind of girl. She'll say stuff like, 'Instead of hard work, just do what needs to be done!' 'If you put in wasted effort, you'll get even farther away from your dreams!'"

"I can't say that leaves a good impression..."

"She'd always insist, 'Find a way to make yourself a lucky boy or Cinderella girl!'"

"Tsukihi-chan probably shouldn't publish any business books. Speaking of which, it worries me that Tsukihi-chan, a middle school student, is coming home later than you, a high school student. Rub rub. What in the world is Moon Fire up to now that she's gone independent?"

"I dunno either. Rather than being independent, Tsukihi-chan's always been a dependent person with an independent spirit. Nii-chan, what were those rubbing sound effects you tried to mix in for the first time this year, without even trying to get them lost in the confusion? And I've heard rumors that you were helping out a magical girl, but how much of that is true?"

"Hmm."

Especially with Kagenui-san's return, I wanted Tsukihi to stay quiet, but she wasn't exactly the kind of sister that listened to her brother.

If I'd been able to talk with Ononoki-chan, I could've asked for her to do something about that... Rather than worry, it made me a little anxious.

Being a big brother was a lifetime job.

"Then, Karen-chan. I'm going to leave the house now, and I don't think I'll be coming back today, so in the meantime, watch over Tsukihi-chan carefully, all right?"

"You mean, today also, right? College students shouldn't be so flashy with their playing around at night. Your new life is an important time for you, too, nii-chan. I don't want to see you get burned like you did when you became a high schooler."

"Those are useful words. Worthy of engraving onto a chest."

"Don't engrave them on my chest!"

033

My fearless (of even a god) strategy to get Hachikuji to sit in the child seat ended in failure.

In transporting the ancient vampire from the Kitashirahebi Shrine to Kanbaru's house while waiting for her awakening (sunset), I'd proposed the formation of putting Hachikuji in the passenger seat and Suicidemaster in the back seat, but considering the size of the target of transportation, I was defeated by the logic that it would be legally safer to secure Suicidemaster, a six-year-old girl, in the child seat.

Well, considering that, in terms of outward appearance, Hachikuji was fixed in the form of a ten-year-old in fifth grade, it was already kind of impossible to fit her in a child seat—and Hachikuji was fairly grown for a ten-year-old. Over the past year, I'd directly felt her measurements with my own hands, so this was for certain. Of course, if the child seat itself were to break, it would be the end of everything.

It was a child seat I hoped to use for many years to come.

However, I'd been worried that Suicidemaster would suddenly go berserk in the middle of the day after being taken out of the shrine and lowered from the sacred mountain, so I consulted with Gaen-san on the phone and ended up applying further seals before securing her in the child seat.

The seals that Hachikuji applied as instructed by Gaen-san were, in simple terms, a blindfold and shackles on her arms and legs, but the image of a blindfolded, shackled little girl in white clothes fastened to a child seat honestly did not make me feel the slightest bit of safety in the legal sense.

If I were to go through police questioning, it wouldn't just end with my license being revoked.

My life would be revoked. Societally.

"A~ah. It was fairly controversial for Araragi-san, who loved his bicycle, to start riding around in a car, but I have to admit that the mobility of a car is certainly different. You can go all over the place, in every direction!"

Hachikuji herself seemed rather happy-go-lucky from the back seat—incidentally, she was in outing mode, which meant she'd changed from her white clothing to her clothes for an outing through the town, with her rucksack on her back.

She was sitting backwards, looking out the rear window, and flapping her legs—was it like a field trip for her?

"Hachikuji. Did your daytime stroll have any results? If you went around looking but couldn't find it, then that would mean the fifth mummy has yet to be made—maybe?"

"I'm not sure. If my godly eyes were able to reach every corner of this town without any problems, you could say this incident would not have happened in the first place. Although it's not that I regret allowing Suicidemaster-san to pass through without security."

"Well, sure."

From Hachikuji's point of view, she might even be a lifesaver—upon Suicidemaster-chan's arrival in Japan, it wouldn't have been odd if she had trampled Hachikuji underfoot, mountain and all.

Even though she was a god, our Hachiku-jin wasn't all-powerful—even in her weakened state, it could be possible for Suicidemaster to defeat even an athletic high school girl in a single blow.

"Hachiku-jin? Please stop. Don't give me a weird nickname. It seems your respect for gods is lacking, you know?"

Hachikuji did a half-turn and took her seat in the normal position.

"I knew that, with the case of Shishirui Seishirou-san, Shinobu-san had messed up twice, after all. I hoped that this could be an opportunity to wipe away that irreversible trauma—although, it would be a lie to say that I wasn't worried about letting Suicidemaster-san meet Shinobu-san, who was currently practically enslaved by a human."

That's why I'm all for the master-servant reversal, said Hachikuji.

"Although, I think it would be better to be honest about it afterwards. It would be sad to lose a friendship because of vanity. When I was alive, there was a boy in my class that I was close to, but because I'd been too vain—"

"Let's save that story for another time, Hachikuji. When Gaen-san called earlier and taught us about the sealing methods, I tried probing a bit, but it doesn't seem like they've found the fifth mummy yet."

"You seem way too uninterested in my flashback scene, Araragi-san."

"The analysis of the cell phone is still in progress, but it doesn't seem like there's any traces of her having made a call or sent a text or used an app since Kanguu-chan went missing, so it's hard to pin down the time of the crime. In other words, we still don't have proof of Suicidemaster's alibi."

I glanced at the little girl in the passenger seat.

The golden-haired little girl fixed in the child seat, in white clothing, blindfolded, arms and legs shackled.

"Is that so? Well, my credibility is at stake, too. I'll cooperate to the full extent of my power. Is it fine if I pretend to be a slave, too? Uhehehe."

"You sound less like a vampire's slave and more like a slave to money. Mm, I've thought about it, but..."

"So you've thought about it? Turning Hachikuji Mayoi into a slave?"

"But ultimately, a vampire's slave should be at least a little vampiric, or the lie will be found out. If it were Ononoki-chan, I may have just barely asked her to, but she's on bad terms with Shinobu. Plus, she's away at the moment, so it seems I'll have to be the only slave. If anything, Hachikuji, you can act as the local deity and be a guarantor for the relationship between Shinobu and me."

Not a bondsman, but a bondsgod.

It seemed rather apt.

Just as we were about to arrive at Kanbaru's house, the cell phone that I had left in the cup holder between the driver and passenger seats buzzed. This time, a call from Gaen-san—had the fifth mummy, Kiseki-chan's mummy, finally been discovered?

I felt slightly nervous, but I was driving, after all, so there was no way I could be the one to pick it up.

I'll leave it to my secretary.

"Who are you calling your secretary? Yes, hello? This is Hachikuji."

Seems like you've taken a liking to it.

"Araragi is currently driving. Yes. Yes. —Yes, I see. Understood. I'll let him know."

Finishing up the short phone call, Hachikuji returned the cell phone to its original position.

"What was it. Did we make any progress?"

"Rather than progress, it's more like we've fallen backwards."

That was Hachikuji's response.

"Putting aside the 'F C' initials, it seems they've completed their brute-force investigation of the remaining members of the girls' basketball team who were on the register, but everyone has been confirmed to be safe."

Everyone was confirmed to be safe?

"Isn't that a good thing? It's the first good news we've heard in a while. What's so backward about good news that's really worth celebrating?"

"The fact that they're safe means that they're also innocent—the results of the investigation made it clear that there is no vampire among the remaining members of the basketball team."

Back to square one.

034

The girls' basketball team members were cleared of suspicion, the fan club was also cleared of suspicion, and there were no signs of another vampire that could be associated with "F/C".

With this, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster wasn't just the prime suspect, she was the only suspect—the only reason that could lead me to believe that she was innocent would be Shinobu's testimony that "Suicidemaster, whose diet is unbalanced to the point of refusing food, would never suck the blood of an immature high school girl".

Tonight's interrogation was becoming increasingly important—it wasn't an exaggeration to say that everything depended on my ability to act as a slave.

I never thought that I would get the opportunity to become a slave to a little girl and deceive another little girl, but I guess I never really know where life will go.

There were many things that made me think that my high school years were the peak of my life, but as I lived on, there were many more interesting things occurring.

And with that, a greeting to my sponsor, Kanbaru.

The sealed little girl and the deified girl had been left in the New Beetle parked in the parking lot of Kanbaru's home—of course, I'd made sure the air conditioner was left on. It certainly wouldn't do if I left two children in a car and came back to find that they'd been mummified.

"Hiya, Araragi-senpai. We only just saw each other yesterday, but it feels like it's been so long ago."

"It hasn't been that long!"

"Yes, now here, the key to the house. Use it however you like."

I figured it was impossible for an ordinary person to imitate this sort of openness—if you tried too hard to act simple, you'd crumble under the stress.

However, they say a person is only as unhappy as the number of keys they have... I wonder how many keys I will have in my lifetime.

"Tonight, we decided to hold a pajama party at Higasa's place. If you've made any progress with the matter from yesterday, I can pass it onto her."

It wasn't progress, but falling backwards.

But it was a bit hard to say that.

However, I couldn't turn back now, and I was committed to it—I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't know anything about the girls' basketball team now.

Regardless of the outcome of this case, I should work together with Kanbaru and Higasa to come up with a plan to reform, or perhaps break down, the current situation. Without going against Gaen-san. She'd called it a pajama party, but it seemed it was actually a gathering of the OGs of the girls' basketball team to brainstorm about the current situation of the younger team members...

This had nothing to do with Karen's remarks, but as a former near-dropout of that high school, I couldn't just leave behind the students that seemed like they would drop out. Even if it was odd to speak of me, who nearly dropped out on my own, and the club members, who were about to drop out because of their stranglehold from club activities, in the same breath.

"Oh yeah, Kanbaru. When you ended up reuniting with Hitagi-san, the senior that you yearned for, at Naoetsu High, what kind of airs did you put on?"

"Airs? What do you mean by that?"

Of course.

Even if the person she was talking to was a senior she admired, she wasn't the type to pretend to be something that she wasn't—she was the type of person to charge in just as she was. If anything, it was maybe Hitagi-san that was likely to put on airs at the time.

Or display her stubbornness.

As a result, it would end up taking over a year before Senjougahara Hitagi and Kanbaru Suruga, the Valhalla Combination, would reunite.

"Huh. You're talking as if you're looking for wisdom in regards to Shinobu-chan reuniting with an old acquaintance!"

"I didn't talk like that!"

I didn't even bring up Shinobu's name!

She certainly was Gaen-san's niece, and I couldn't let down my guard—if I let something slip, this capable junior might decide to get involved all on her own.

She might decide to pretend to be a slave all on her own.

As someone who felt badly about the fact that I'd gotten her involved in the case of Shishirui Seishirou because of my own personal circumstances, this was a situation I wanted to avoid.

I needed to make up some reason to change the subject and get rid of her as soon as possible.

"Oh yeah, Kanbaru."

"Araragi-senpai, you sure come up with things frequently, don't you. What is it?"

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask of you—"

035

Though we'd settled on Kanbaru's place for our choice of location, it would be effectively impossible to clean up my junior's disastrously messy room before sunset, and, even if she'd told me to use the house however I liked, it certainly wouldn't do to infringe upon the territory of her grandfather and grandmother, so we ultimately decided upon using the Japanese mansion's garden for the revival of Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster.

Much like at Ryōan-ji, it was a Japanese rock garden.

Well, even if it was a measure of desperation, the mansion gave off much more of a castle-like impression when viewed from outside rather than being inside.

Yesterday, it had felt like I'd greeted nightfall feeling like I'd run out of time without doing everything I had to do, but today, it felt like I'd done everything I could and was greeting the night having run out of material. Now, I wonder what will happen?

"Thanks for waiting. So, shall we begin?"

At the moment the sun had set about halfway, Gaen-san appeared with a one shou bottle—the ones to welcome her were me; Shinobu, who had woken up early and crawled out of my shadow; Hachiku-jin, our witness; and Suicidemaster, who had been laid down—it seemed a little too pitiful to lay a restrained little girl on the bare ground, so I'd put down a rush mat (I'd found the rush mat in Kanbaru's room—why did she have something like that?).

All the actors were in place.

The show must go on.

"I've set up a barrier going all the way around the mansion, so if by some chance a battle breaks out, we'll be fine."

"That 'some chance' is what I'd like to avoid... But, Gaen-san. What's with that bottle?"

"Well, I am a specialist, after all. Wine would be better for vampires, but I figured we could do this the Japanese way, with sacred sake for a demon."

I guess I couldn't rely on crosses and holy water in a Japanese mansion with a shrine's god present... Her behavior was as if she'd come to a late-night drinking party, but in this Japanese mansion it held an air of sophistication.

"You should've come in full dress, then."

"Did you want to see me in shrine maiden's clothes, Koyomin? Unfortunately, I don't respect formalities and ceremonies as much as Meme does. I may be a pacifist, but at the same time, I'm a rationalist."

Indeed, now that I thought about it, that careless-seeming middle-aged Hawaiian shirt guy was surprisingly pretty picky about arrangements and whatnot to the point of irrationality... And looking closely, Gaen-san's bottle was just a bottle of cheap sake from a discount store... It was a bit difficult to call that sacred sake.

I guess it's the Gaen way to push through what's difficult.

"Goodness, I never thought I'd be visiting the Kanbaru house that rejected my dear sister like this—the wheel of fate sure turns."

As she spoke in an amused manner, Gaen-san casually turned over the one shou bottle and poured it over the body of the little girl.

Rather than occult ceremony, if anything, it seemed more like the "magic kettle" thing they did in rugby clubs.

Good, judging from that composed demeanor of hers, it seemed Gaen-san had managed to safely get through the murky swamp of the high school girls.

"Ooh. White clothing getting wet and sticking to a little girl's body... Kind of erotic, don't you think?"

Hachikuji made a vulgar remark, unbecoming of a god—for the record, though I hadn't touched upon it (double meaning) out of kindness, when you were meditating under a waterfall for a joke yesterday, you looked the same way, y'know?

Putting that aside.

"By the way, Shinobu-sama."

"...... Hm? Ah, you mean me, my master?"

She wasn't getting into her role at all.

Her servile disposition was so deeply ingrained in her.

"I mean, my servant. What is it?"

"Even if you catch it right away... Well, it's fine. Listen, Shinobu-sama. My master. Would you allow me the honor of inquiring something of you?"

"If you bring that quality of acting to the real thing, it'll be your fault if we get found out, my mast... my servant."

I think it would be both our faults.

But since we didn't have time, I continued instead of retorting.

"I haven't really thought too deeply about this until now, but... What's it like, living for six hundred years?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, if I may be permitted to speak for myself, I believe I have undergone quite a few changes, just looking back over the past year."

"Speak normally. I can't tell what you're saying at all."

Right.

I didn't even know what I was saying at all.

"In the course of our lives, we change our opinions, change our minds, realize our mistakes, and learn right from wrong, right? I won't make friends, because my strength as a human would decrease—when I used to say that, I really believed it, and I don't think I could have believed back then that I would have normal friends in college."

And that was in just a single year.

If that had been six hundred years—I'd ended up suddenly wondering how I would feel when I looked back on the past.

"I can't tell what you're saying at all, even when you're talking normally—after all, I've been quick to cast away the past that I can't remember."

Was it because she couldn't remember, or because she didn't want to remember? She probably didn't even remember that.

Well, it's fine. I just wanted something to say at the last minute—not even I, speaking normally, could tell what I was saying at all.

Just because they were meeting again after six hundred years, didn't mean they had to make the same decisions they made six hundred years ago—is that what I wanted to say? However—if I ran into Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade on the verge of death in an alleyway again, what if I would offer up my neck again, just like I had done a year ago?

"In the first place, before oddities are immortal, they're unchanging, universal. They don't change so frequently, like humans do."

"Then, let me ask you the same thing I did in that spring break. Shinobu, to you..."

To you, what are humans?

When Oshino Shinobu had not been Oshino Shinobu, when she had been the vampire, Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, she had responded immediately.

She'd responded—"food".

But for Shinobu now, that was incorrect.

Even under the premise that she was sealed—but when you took that out, it was still incorrect.

However, what she would respond was another matter entirely—and it was as if Shinobu had been caught off guard, because for a moment, she fell silent. But, as if aiming for that moment...

"O devourer, o imbiber, o lurker! Now that the holy sun has set, tear open the coffin and rise! Boil the flesh in blood, and stir it with the bones!"

Gaen-san started chanting something like a magic spell that had taken the world by storm a few decades ago—it seemed like a joke, but it was for real, right?

"Come together with the night! Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster!"

It seemed like the sort of hackneyed incantation that I would've been convinced if she'd said, "Just kidding," but in that instant, the little girl soaked in cheap sake began to glow gold—or so it seemed.

But it was just my imagination, and my misunderstanding.

In actuality, the girl who had been sleeping as if she were dead had suddenly opened her eyes—the blindfold flew open, revealing two eyes as golden as her hair, and it had felt to me as if they were glowing.

Miss Suicidemaster's facial features, who had previously appeared as expressionless as Ononoki-chan's, became clearer as she awoke—though they had the same golden hair and golden eyes, she gave off a different impression from Shinobu.

The sake that had been sprinkled over her evaporated in an instant—not only the shackles on her arms and legs, but even the sash of her white clothing flew off, just like her blindfold.

Had Gaen-san broken the seal, or had the little girl herself broken it? It wasn't clear from afar—but if anything, my impressions were more towards the latter, and I couldn't help but think, "What part of her is weakened?"

I was just beginning to regret my thoughtless act of treatment, which made me recall my actions last spring break, and was wondering if it would have been better to leave her as a mummy, but then...

Creak!

The little girl's face turned towards me.

Lying on her side, only her head turned to look towards me—no.

Not me. Those golden eyes had fixed their gaze upon the one standing on my shadow, the other little girl in this garden—within moments of waking up, the ancient vampire had sensed her former thrall.

And then.

"Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

She said—sprawled out on the ground, from the lowest position imaginable, her laugh rang out louder than I could have imagined.

And in response to that loud laugh, Shinobu, who had borne vivid witness to her former "master"'s revival—

"Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha." "Ha." "Ha."

She said.

"Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

She—laughed in return.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

If it weren't for the barrier, their loud exchange laughter would surely have disturbed the neighbors—it was like microphone feedback. How long had it gone for?

Six hundred years. A thousand years.

Did it go on for eternity?

It was quite the uproarious bout of laughter, as if Gaen-san and Hachikuji and I weren't even there in that garden, but it was finally brought to an end.

"Somehow or other, it seems I've died again."

That was the remark from the little girl on her back.

And, hearing that, Shinobu shrugged her shoulders.

"It seems we've both grown old," she said.

The two little girls had reunited for the first time in six hundred years.

[siriusbunbryist]

In defence of Abed x Annie.

Thanks to the magic of Netflix, I’ve rewatched Community at age 24, and still found Abed and Annie to have hit the heartstrings as much as I did when I was in high school watching the show for the first time.

But watching the series in its entirety just reinforces my thought that Abed and Annie had so much potential that was wasted, and it’s a shame that the writers planted all these seeds to only decide that perhaps this direction was not worth it / too risky / unfavoured by the audience. But I mean, Alison Brie herself (and I’m assuming Danny Pudi as well) endorsed them! Find here and here.

This was a pairing that with all the crumbs scattered throughout the show (I think we are all aware of these crumbs I speak of), could’ve easily played the “oh we’ve been secretly dating this whole time” trope during the last episode and it would’ve still made sense.

Naturally I did some scoping, and of course unsurprisingly the J.eff x Annie pairing takes the cake, while not a lot of love for Abed x Annie. So here are common points of contentions I see surrounding Abed and Annie, and my rationale on them.

Before I start, a note - I fully respect the J.eff x Annie ship and I don’t intend on starting a ship w.ar/debate. I understand where their support comes from! I just needed to vent because no one else in my social circle watches this show. No hate please.

1. Abed doesn’t see Annie romantically

I think on the contrary it’s been set up rather long ago that Abed at the very least is attracted to Annie.

Exhibit A: “What are you making” in Beginner Pottery

Exhibit B: “Flat B.utt and the one Abed wants to nail” in The Art of Discourse

This video basically explains it! The summary: Annie is Pierce’s favourite, Pierce constantly insults Britta, therefore Britta is flat b.utt.

Exhibit C: Not even trying to hide it in Accounting for Lawyers

But, a romantic interest has to be further built upon finding someone attractive right? There has to be intrigue to their character, such as

Exhibit D: “I can only connect to people through... movies” in English as a Second Language

It is pretty obvious here that Annie is a rare someone who has successfully broken the impartial screen that Abed filters everything through. Jeff saw it too which is why he said Annie was the ark of the covenant before Abed fell for her disney face. I can only imagine Abed to be quite struck with Annie’s infiltration.

A romantic interest should also share common interests, such as

Exhibit E: “Which makes Annie is my third favourite show” in Paranormal Parentage

I’ve said before that for Abed, a guy who lives life and communicates through comparing it with television and movies, it’s not unthinkable for him to be attracted to someone who genuinely watches his favourite shows and commits to roles during cosplay. And who, besides Troy, would fit this profile? Annie. 

And finally, the biggest indicator of it all, we also see how Abed views the Jeff and Annie pairing in everyone’s favourite episode Remedial Chaos Theory. Keeping in mind that the timelines are rendered by Abed, out of all the timelines, J.eff and Annie only kis.sed when Abed left the room for pizza. As well, as conjured in Abed’s head, Evil Jeff and Evil Annie only existed as a couple in the Darkest Timeline. To me at least, it’s arguable that this alludes to Abed’s omniscient “director” standpoint that he may be the obstacle in the Jeff and Annie relationship - pointing towards him perhaps harbouring feelings for Annie.

2. Annie doesn’t see Abed romantically The general consensus on this point is that Annie is only attracted to Abed when he’s playing a character. I rather think that being attracted to someone, and being attracted to someone during role play, aren’t mutually exclusive. Let’s take a look at the different characters that Abed played.

Don Draper: serious, sophisticated, and smooth.

Han Solo: immature, flirty and a smarta.ss.

Batman: mysterious, complex, and brave.

Three different personas, yet Annie responded to all of them. Since the common denominator to all three is that they are played by Abed, I would like to offer a counterpoint that perhaps the attraction to Abed has always been there, it’s just emphasized when Abed plays a character. Who knows, role playing might even be Annie’s ki.nk. After all, during For a Few Paintballs More, it is shown that Annie is disappointed when Abed dropped the Han Solo persona after the battle ended.

Annie also loves big romantic gestures. Who’s better than doing that than Abed? Since the beginning, Abed has already been doing big romantic gestures of varying degrees for Annie. With this, it’s not ridiculous for Annie to see Abed as a romantic potential.

Exhibit F: Staying in a room for 26 hours in Social Psychology

Annie: You sat in a room for twenty-six straight hours. Didn’t that bother you?  Abed: Yeah I was livid.  Annie: Then why didn’t you leave?  Abed: Because you asked me to stay and you said we were friends.

Exhibit G: Rescuing her from “captivity” and inviting her to move in in Remedial Chaos Theory and Studies in Modern Movement (even Troy was surprised at Abed’s invitation)

Exhibit H: Tearing down the Dreamatorium in Studies in Modern Movement

Annie: What about the Dreamatorium? Abed: Oh it's staying. The Dreamatorium is more important than any of us. But you're more important than our bedroom so we put the bunk bed in the blanket fort.

Bonus: Confirmed by Alison Brie

3. The show was about Jeff and Annie

Dan Harmon said that Community’s approach is that anything and any pairing is possible. We see this is as the series started with the classic “player vs smart snarky girl” trope with setting up Jeff and Britta as the main pairing. We also see Troy and Annie as the potential B couple in the show. The writers also threw Pierce and Shirley, Annie and Britta, Dean and Jeff, and even Chang and Britta in for a laugh.

And then the show subverted this all by introducing Jeff and Annie, and made Troy and Britta a couple, showing us that Community is a show that intends on breaking these classic sitcom stereotypes by experimenting with different pairings. Abed and Annie was no exception to this, as the writers often pair them up in different shenanigans and hint at possible grounds to explore*.

A few examples: Han and Leia in For a Few Paintballs More, Hector the Well Endowed and the Elf Maiden in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, spy partners in Modern Espionage.

No doubt that the show dabbled in and out of Jeff and Annie throughout the series. However, to say that Jeff and Annie was the primary pairing in the series would mean overlooking Jeff and Britta. Especially when Jeff and Britta have the whole love-hate dynamic, three(?) marriage close-calls, and emotional snippets such as helping Jeff reunite with his father in Cooperative Escapism in Familial Relations.

Anyway, not to discredit Jeff and Annie, but knowing that the show explores the possibility of different pairings**, why write off Abed and Annie?

* Not to mention that the cop pairing in The Science of Illusion was originally written with Abed and Annie in mind! ** We also see a stray Abed and Britta during Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps.

4. Annie is in love with Jeff To keep this short and shipper-goggle free, Annie has said on numerous occasions that she’s in love with the idea of Jeff, not Jeff himself. Specifically this scene in Virtual Systems Analysis:

Abed as Annie: "…We love Jeff…" Annie: "No we don’t, we’re just in love with the idea of being loved. And if we can teach a guy like Jeff to do it, we’ll never be unloved, so we keep running the same scenario over and over hoping for a different result."

And this scene in Conventions of Space and Time:

Annie: All right, I may have been play-acting that we were married, and then the staff thought you were cheating, and I had to save face. Jeff: Do I have to worry about this? Annie: No, I was just daydreaming. I mean, I've married you at least a half a dozen times. And Troy. And Zac Efron.

Not to mention that their conversation in the finale says it all.

Jeff: I don't wanna be fine. I wanna be 25 and heading out into the world. I wanna fall asleep on a beach and be able to walk the next day, or stay up all night on accident. I wanna wear a white t-shirt without looking like I forgot to get dressed.* I want to be terrified of AIDS, I want to have an opinion about those, boring a.ss Marvel movies. And I want those opinions to be of any concern to the people making them. Annie: Well I want to live in the same home for more than a year, order wine without feeling nervous, have a resume full of crazy mistakes instead of crazy lies. I want stories and wisdom, perspective. I wanna have so much behind me I'm not a sl.ave to what's in front of me, especially those flavourless unremarkable Marvel movies.

*Shipper-goggle on: Part of me thinks this is a reference to Abed, whose iconic style almost exclusively comprises T-shirts. What Jeff is saying is that he wishes he is 25 again with his future open before him, someone who compatible with Annie, but here he acknowledges that he isn’t, and lets her go in the end.

5. Abed and Annie wouldn’t work as a couple Another point I see is that Abed and Annie are strictly platonic and are more like brother and sister. On the basis that they have made out a couple times and are attracted to each other, I would disagree with the sibling statement.  

Troy, in contrast to Abed, I think actually resembles a more sibling-like relationship with Annie. Although Troy and Annie have the strong friendship of Abed and Annie, when disregarding the high school crush stage of season 1, their storylines never dwelled further down an attraction path, nor was there any specific episode that was dedicated to a deep dive of vulnerabilities and confrontation between them. As a comparison, Troy and Britta had opportunities to explore these setups (Troy admitted to lying about his b.utt stuff story and Troy helped Britta face Blade) - an indication that Troy and Britta were heading into non-platonic territory. Jeff and Britta too, had several opportunities to confront their feelings (up till the very last season), a clear indication of a non-platonic relationship.

For Abed and Annie, what I think pulls their friendship towards actual love interest potential is best pinpointed to Virtual Systems Analysis. Annie’s participation in the Dreamatorium prompted her to not only fully submerge into the way Abed thinks and comprehends his surroundings, but she also got to understand and address Abed’s stubbornness and flaws in a vulnerable way, confronting some of her own flaws as well.

Abed as Shirley: Your hospital school, young lady, is a simulation being run through a filter of other people's needs. Abed's been filtered out because nobody needs him. Annie: I need him!

And to point out this little tidbit in VCR Maintenance and Educational Publishing,

Annie: That's why Abed is like a brother to me. You guys are so alike. Abed: I can't accept that based on one time machine story.

This whole episode, instead of establishing Abed is like Annie’s brother, I would argue is rather doing the opposite. Abed and Annie’s hyper antics in the episode were basically matched by Anthony and Rachel’s blatant indifference and confusion. For lots of Abed and Annie supporters, this episode was a major setback. But I think it instead highlights how in-sync they are with each other, which is a good thing.

Another point, despite Annie trying to prove otherwise, Abed and Anthony had different vibes, and each shared different dynamics with Annie. And as Anthony pointed out in the end, who were Abed and Annie trying to replace in the apartment? Troy. The person who they are trying to fill is Troy - their roommate, their brother, their best friend. Troy was the brother role that neither Abed and Annie can fill for each other.

In Basic Sandwich, we get this exchange:

Abed: The point is, this show, Annie, it isn't just their show. This is our show, and it's not over. And the sooner we find that treasure, the faster the Jeff-Britta pilot falls apart. Annie: Got it. Thank you, Abed. Abed: You're welcome. I have a girlfriend. Annie: What? Abed: You were about to start a kiss lean. Annie: I was not.

Not only did Abed saw right through Annie’s anxiety and comforted her in his own uniquely Abed way, but he also felt the need to remind her of his girlfriend. The fact that he broke the fourth wall here is likely the writers’ way to be meta, but simply acknowledging the tension and bond there says a lot in between the lines. If tension does not exist, there would be no need for this line.

Besides, instead of thinking that they’re strictly platonic (which of course is also okay), they would rather work great as a couple. In terms of opposites attract, Annie grounds Abed with just the right amount, while Abed clearly encourages Annie to be her true self and be immature. Such as this scene in Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism,

Annie: I’m following him.  Troy: You moving in here was supposed to tone us down!

Annie also doesn’t just tolerate Abed’s idiosyncrasies, she actually likes them and fully participates as multiple paintball games and cosplays would tell us. Special shoutout to the missing lovers footage in Wedding Videography, which through Britta, actually shows us that Annie is the only one who would go along with Abed’s projects - while Britta found the project extremely weird and unhealthy, Annie thought it was fun and commits well to her role.

And while others may tiptoe around Abed, Annie isn’t afraid to call Abed out when he’s out of line and makes a point to teach him about empathy in Virtual Systems Analysis. Remember that Britta tried teaching him this but it didn’t work as well.

I am Abed Nadir... And I don't know a lot of things everyone else knows. I wander the universe with my friend, Troy, doing whatever I want. Sometimes accidentally hurting innocent unremarkables. This week, however, Troy went to lunch and I adapted. I now have the ability to enter the minds of others using an elusive new technique known as "empathy".

As well as in the entire episode of Cooperative Polygraphy.

They also know each other best. Abed knew her cushion preferences, was the one who spelled out her true pas.sion for forensics, and after living together, Annie knew how to navigate Abed’s peculiarities and to soothe him whenever he had a nervous breakdown. 

Annie also knows him so well that she can predict his reaction.

They are also each other’s exception. Annie was always the one who manages to pull Abed out of a trance and back to reality, usually with touch.

Abed is also very forgiving with her. An example is when Annie seemingly lost all common sense because she broke Abed’s special edition dvd in Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism.

Annie: Well, Batman, on behalf of all of us that aren't perfect, can I just say I'm sorry I broke your DVD? Abed: Apology accepted. But I wouldn't mention it to Abed. That guy's pretty ruthless. And that's coming from Batman.

And in Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas, Annie was the only claymation doll that didn’t have a weird form (except Troy as toy soldier of course). Annie was a ballerina because Abed sees her as a creature of grace. Abed was also the first one who got her “brighter tomorrow” diorama and responded with enthusiasm.

They are also in the same stage in life. As Dan Harmon explains the choice of Abed and Annie being the ones who leave the group, with Troy gone, Abed and Annie symbolize the many possibilities of the future - a possibility that makes them viable. I like to think Annie transfers to the LA FBI office after her internship and they reunite.

And as the Spice Girls said, “if you wanna be my love.r, you gotta get with my friends”. In Paleyfest, Dan Harmon says this about whoever Troy and Abed ends up dating, “I mean a woman that comes into either of their lives is either going to drive them apart or she's going to have to be really accepting of a very special relationship”.

Britta tolerated their friendship but to a point of asking Annie to distract Abed for alone time with Troy, Troy dumped the librarian as she called Abed weird, Robin disappeared, Rachel we never got to see much of, but was pretty quiet and separated from the group. From this, logically speaking, Annie would actually be the perfect match for Abed, as we all know they’re the ultimate trio within the study group and a transition from friends to more will be natural. 

Oh, and, Abed is wrong. They’re not Chandler and Phoebe with little storylines together, they’re Chandler and Monica. 

Anyway, that’s it for my super long rant/analysis. Community the series is done and over, so there isn’t a need for any ship war. All I want to say is, if #andamovie happens, hopefully, the writers will actually take a leap.

[rovvboat]

Painted Flaws - Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x villian!Reader

Part 1

A/N: i’m dead (in a good way) from writing this. Hope you enjoy from the bottom of my heart. A lot more to come! (this is also my first colossus smut uwu)

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: smut, n s f w 

Summary: You’re a villian with a moral grey area. You meet Piotr at an art exhibit, but both of you are there for completely different reasons. Though the attraction was inevitable, will it be enough? A growing passionate love wrought with secrecy, both of you try to move through this maze. But when the ball drops, what will you choose?

They all looked as pretentious as they were.

Prancing around, pretending to understand the art around them. As if they weren’t deliberately being conned by massive price inflation of seemingly valuable pieces. A bunch of rich snobs who could do better things with the money than hang it on their fucking wall in their private mansion and villas and– okay calm down. That’s not the priority here. You just have to look for the supplier, and make sure she gets the message.

You strode along the long hallways in your lace black long-sleeved, knee-length dress; complete with a cream clutch and pastel beige heels, and you undoubtedly got your fair share of stares from men and women alike. You didn’t look like the models on T.V., but you had your own allure that rendered you irresistible – much to your annoyance. On a normal day, you would prefer to dress a lot more like a hobo, just to keep yourself as much in the background as possible.

But on days like this, with these high-standing people, you had to put your best, charismatic-self out. And that means getting ogled at, but whatever.

You kept your eyes on every inch of the party, looking out for exit points and persons of interest. You had to judge every person you came into contact with, and for the most part they were all your standard issue snobs, with only a selective few who were genuinely interested in the art and artists. The other high-level celebrities were just there to hype up the party. It was a big event – but for you, it was important for an extremely different reason.

The supplier for today would make or break all future plans of The Hand, and it was pertinent for you to get the meeting set up with her.

After a few more moments of wandering, you spot a lady in a wheelchair, looking to be in her mid-40s with hair greying off at the edges; dressed in an elegant outfit of her own. Though she looked fragile, beneath that act lay an evil in its own right. The lady in question was your ‘’supplier’’, at least, that’s what you were told to call her ever since the beginning. You casually move towards her, but before you could make your presence known, two huge men in black suits, eyes covered by black visors, block your path. You stare them down, before showing them your business card – as if this wasn’t the thousandth time you’ve met with her. They inspect it and allow you past them, as you finally approach the lady.

‘’You look lovely, darling’’

You take her hand and kiss it, as is custom with her. ‘’I always look my best for the job. I can say the same about you.’’

She laughs heartily, ‘’Flattery will get you everywhere, love.’’ She motions for you to lean in, and you do.

‘’Tell me now, what is the important message I was supposed to receive?’’

‘’I’m sorry, I am not allowed to tell you here. But we have arranged for you to meet the Boss at midnight at a more private section of the gallery. If you wouldn’t mind, I could bring you to the room that we have arranged for you for the night. I’ve seen the place, and I can assure you that you will not be disappointed. May I bring you there personally?’’

‘‘Of course, darling. If that’s what you need to do.’’ She obliges.

You move to push her wheelchair, and before you do, you ask if she allows you to do so. She waves a hand granting permission. You slowly wheel her to the room, letting her take in the surrounding of the gallery and tell you about her long trip to New York, before allowing her to settle down in her private suite.

Once she was taken care of, you had the rest of the day, and you certainly did not want to spend it around these snobs. You walk along the string of the lesser coveted art pieces, bored out of your mind, when you hear a voice quip up from the end of the hallway. A large man was standing with a lady with short, styled hair by his side. They looked like they could siblings, from what you could tell.

They seemed very out of place in this gallery, though. He was a tall and brawny man, but he wasn’t dressed like a body guard, or a rich snobby collector – which raised some alarms.

Could he be a spy?

He’s wearing a navy-blue turtleneck with medium-khaki pants. He looked fashionable enough to seem like the artistic kind, but much too dressed down to be part of the target audience for this event. He was also at least 6 ft. tall, and you decided that those strong curves peeking out from under the sleeve fabric were definitely something worth investigating.

‘’Look NTW! This piece was made by one of the artists that inspired me when I first came to America. The use of colours is absolutely astound– ‘’ the man explains before he’s cut off.

The teenage girl next to him yawns. ‘’I’m sorry, Colossus. I’m just not an art person.’’

‘’Da. That is alright. You may go back to the mansion if this is not something you like. I just wanted for you to try something new, instead of being stuck inside all day.’’

‘’I think I’m going to go find Yukio, maybe she’ll be more interested in this than I am.’’ The girl pats him on the back and bids him farewell, walking past you to the exit.

You stride over towards the mysterious man, as he studies the details of the painting in front of him – even making sure to read the inscription on the plaques.

‘’I have never seen you around here before. Are you new?’’ You open. He jumps a little at your presence. He takes you in for a moment, his eyes wide. You smile and tilt your head at him, jolting him back to the conversation.

‘’Uh yes. I saw the sign outside about an art exhibit… and bought some tickets.’’ He responds in a thick accent – clearly Russian.

‘’You might have wandered too far from that particular art exhibit, my friend.’’ You point out. ‘’This one’s a little more of a… private event’’

‘’Oh, I am so sorry. I did not– ‘’

You laugh. ‘’Hey, it’s alright. If I’m being honest, out of everyone here, I think you probably deserve to be here the most. The rest of them… just look for prestige. Reputation is what matters to them, no matter how good the work might be. They might pretend to admire the work, but it’s all a game of who knows who.’’ You lament. He looks at you intently, curious about your thoughts of the art world.

You laugh again. ‘’I’m so sorry! It’s only been seconds since we’ve met and I’m already venting. Tell ya what, handsome. Since you had to listen to me be all negative about something you love, I’ll put your name on the guestlist, and you can spend the rest of the day admiring the artwork how it’s intended to be. The showcase ends tomorrow at 2am, so you can take your time and come back tomorrow as well.’’

‘’Oh no, I didn’t mind listening to you… I also think there are some things worth fixing in the community. But that is… very kind of you to put me on the guestlist. May I know your name?’’

‘’Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. And yours?’’

‘’Piotr. Piotr Rasputin.’’ He puts out a hand to you. You go for a handshake, and revel at how big his hands were.

‘’Nice to meet you, Piotr. Well, I have some time on my hands. Maybe I could show you around? I would love to hear your perspective on certain works as well. Would that be alright with you?’’

‘’To have a beautiful lady offer to escort me around this wonderful gallery, I would be a foolish man to say no.’’ He remarks. You giggle as you loop an arm around his.

You spend the rest of the day sticking close to him. You talk to him about art, all its intricacies and your general disdain for the insincere – before enquiring more about himself. Piotr tells you about how different things are here and talks about his time as a farm boy and how he’s always been interested in painting and drawing. The time passes far too quickly for either of your liking – before a tall, brawny man in an expensive-looking suit approaches you, with urgency in his steps. Piotr tenses, and moves to stand between you and the man, but you hold him back gently with a hand to his shoulder.

‘’It’s alright, Piotr. This is an associate of mine.’’ You tell him, turning to the tall man. ‘’Do you have any updates for me?’’ You ask, your face stoic and devoid of all the emotion that you freely showed when you were with Piotr, who watches your change in demeanor with intrigue.

The man moves close to your ear and whispers something, before a look of disappointment crosses your face.

‘’I’m so sorry, Piotr. I’m going to have to cut our private tour short. But you are welcome to enjoy yourself for the rest of your evening. It was a pleasure talking to you.’’ You say before shifting to make your way to the problem.

‘’Wait!’’ A hand reaches out to grasp you, stopping you in your tracks. ‘’I apologise if I was too rough, but… will I see you again?’’

You give him a sad smile. ‘’Maybe.’’ You could tell he was crestfallen – as he let go of your hand – at your response. But you had no time to be thinking about prospective relationships at the moment, especially not when your job was on the line. He was sweet. And amazing company. But it wouldn’t be worth your time if you weren’t going to pursue him in the long run. He probably deserves better anyway.

 After making a few calls, it turned out that the problem was that your Boss was caught up with a different matter, and because of that the meeting was postponed to midnight the next day; which only meant there was a whole day for you to focus on other areas of work. In the meantime, you ran some errands outside the gallery and returned the next day to make sure everything was going smoothly.

It had been a long day of checks and monitoring around the gallery, but your mind kept wandering to the man you met yesterday. Was he here today? You check your watch. It was already 11:50pm. You push your thoughts of the man away, and make your way to the meeting venue to ensure last minute checks.

As you walk down the long hallway, you spot a familiar figure – it was Piotr – studying the same artwork that he did the day before. From the back, you could tell he was dressed up for the venue this time around.

You wanted to approach him, but decided that would only serve to distract you. You got your priorities straight before making your way to the meeting.

 Everything went according to plan, and you finally exit the room an hour later and out into the main room. You look around, your eyes searching for the familiar build of the man whose face shows up whenever you had the time to daydream. His piercing blue eyes, crinkling as he laughs heartily at a joke you made, or wide-eyed at your explanations of how certain industries work.

You realized that unlike all the other sleazebags you were exposed to, he never once touched you without permission or tried to cop a feel, but would always apologise if he felt he was pushing it.

But, alas, he was no where to be found. You escort the remaining visitors out of the gallery as a security guard comes up to you.

‘’Thank you for the assistance, I think there is one more person who is still around the ‘Hues’ exhibition. He said he was waiting for someone so I left him alone. Not sure if he’s still around though.’’

‘’I’ll handle it. You go ahead and take off’’ You smile at the guard. He gives you a nod before wandering off.

Your heart quickened at the words of the guard, and your feet took off toward that particular exhibit.

Please be there. Please be there.

The words ring through your head – you felt as if life was giving you another chance. Your heels clink furiously on the floor, in sync with the thumping of your heart through your chest, as you gained ground towards the exhibit. Everything felt so terribly loud, and you felt like he was going to slip through your hands if you didn’t catch up to him on time – and thinking about it made your heart pump faster still.

You look at your watch – 1:12AM. There was no way he was still here. You stop abruptly at the doorway to the Hues exhibit, and your hopes start to fall. You try to regain your composure, when you look up in front of you.

And there he was, in the dimly lit section of the gallery, taking in the sight of one of your most favourite pieces. A deep relief washes over you, as you let out all your tension in a sigh.

He looks at the painting for a long time, eyes wide in awe, before leaning down closer – hands in his pockets – to read the inscription.  

The piece is one with a black background that slowly fades into lighter hues of grey then white, littered with smaller strokes of all the possible colours, but only in one of shade of each. The strokes form a spiral through to the medium grey in the middle – which ends off with a short vertical line of gold, and a horizontal line of silver – both of the same length – all of which came together to make it look like a telescope. It was a masterpiece in its own right – and you personally knew the artist behind the work.

‘’That’s a one-of-a-kind piece.’’ You say as you gracefully make your way into the smaller section of the gallery – meant for the best of the best works – as the sound of your stilettos against the marble flooring echoed through the room, catching Piotr’s attention; his head swivels around to catch your gaze, as you come to a stop next to him.

‘’It is… most beautiful.’’ He says, looking at you. You turn your head to him and smile.

‘’It’s nice to see you again, Piotr. What brings you here at 1am in the morning? And dressed to the nines, might I add. You look even better than you did yesterday.’’ You remark, as he gives you a shy smile in return – the blush on his cheeks stark against skin. You can’t help but want to eat him up. But before he responds, an ideas pops into your head.

‘’C’mon, I want to show you something,’’ you grab his wrist and tug him along behind you. You guide him up the steps behind the curtains at the very end of the room that has a ‘’restricted access’’ sign prominently hung on it.

‘’Are you sure we are allowed back here?’’ Piotr whispers to you, lowering himself to make sure that you could hear him. You laugh in response, but continue tugging him deeper into the studio.

Once you arrive at your destination, you walk over to the far wall and flip a heavy switch with a loud chunk. Lights buzz open to reveal an art studio with high ceilings and exquisite furnishing – fit for only, one could imagine, the ‘’royals’’ of the art world.

Beyond the small lounging area, there is a huge floor-to-ceiling length window which overlooks onto the front entrance of the art gallery, placed adjacent to a small area with tall shelves that also reached the ceiling. They held every colour you could ever imagine. Further into the room there were smaller windows, all made to adjustable to ensure that the lighting was always constant in the room. These windows faced the canvases and easels that were in the room – which were placed in a circular arrangement facing away from each other.

‘’This all looks so… fancy. And professional. Does this studio belong to you?’’ Piotr asks, awe-struck as he runs his hand along all the cases containing all the different paint colours.

‘’No. I’m not an artist, but I remember you told me yesterday that you were. This belongs to the painter of the piece you were looking at from before. And this– ‘’ you wave an arm as if to present the room to him– ‘’is where all the magic happens.’’ You say proudly, perched on the edge of the sofa. You look up to see Piotr, who’s now walking towards you. He looks like he has something to ask you. You tilt your head – your heart beat picks up again – and you straighten up to show that you’re listening. ‘’Got something on your mind, Piotr?’’

He gets close to you, and all of a sudden, his face is against yours, noses brushing past, as you melt under him – his lips eagerly meeting yours. You stand up to deepen the kiss, as his hand holds one side of your face.

He pulls away abruptly, but still looking at you with hooded eyes – the intensity of his gaze absolutely driving you wild.

‘’I am sorry to be so forward. But I… I could not stop thinking about you.’’ He breathes heavy.

‘’Me neither.’’

You let your palms run over his chest before tugging at his black tie, pulling him back into a kiss.

A few moments pass and you push him back, breaking the kiss abruptly. You stare at him, your eyes needy, as you walk towards him. You push him a little more and he relents, until his back is against the wall.

You push against him, your lips meeting his with an insatiable hunger – the warmth of your lips follow, inching down to his neck as his face lifts up to allow your presence; sucking and nibbling, leaving loving bruises in your wake. You unbutton his shirt, one by one – untucking it from his pants – leaving his bare chest exposed. You lift your face back up to kiss him. He pulls your face closer to deepen the kiss still; your tongues, impatient, gently get a taste of each other.

Your hands wander over every perfect line of his physique as you kiss – yearning to feel every part of him against you – as they finally loop around his neck to bring your body closer to his. He lowers his hands to your waist, holding you close, before slowly letting them trail down – grazing over your ass and gently caressing it. The sudden action causing you to moan against him.

Your hand moves down to his crotch – feeling up his stiff member through the fabric. You hear a sharp inhale from him, as you rub your palm up and down against his hard on. A shaky breath escapes him.

You gently push yourself away, and shift to get down on your knees – before Piotr’s hands hold up your shoulders, stopping you from moving down.

‘’I… would prefer to take you out to dinner first…’’ He says, somewhat sheepishly. You smirk at him. What a sweetheart.

You lean in close to him. ‘’Tell ya what big guy,’’ you say slowly, painstakingly trail a finger down his chest, ‘’we can do dinner after this. How’s that sound?’’ You whisper slowly into his ear. If he wasn’t on edge before, he sure as hell was now.

He puts his hands back down to his side, as you move to your intended position. You unzip his pants, his length springing up as you tease his cock; pumping it from base to tip, as you bring it out in all its glory.

Suddenly, the lights go out, engulfing the room with a dull blue glow, courtesy of the windows. Piotr jumps a little at that and looks up around him – clearly tense.

‘’Hey, don’t worry. They’re automatic lights with sensors.’’ You reassured him. ‘’Besides, we’re not gonna need so much light now, are we?’’

You get to work, holding his cock in your hand, and licking up its length. Once at his tip, you let your saliva pool in your mouth, before bringing his dick close – getting it nice and fully wet with your tongue, your saliva covering every inch of him. You tease his head, swirling over it with your tongue before using the pad of your thumb to swipe over his slit. ‘’Bozhe moi…’’ Piotr hisses in response, which tells you everything you need to know.

You open your mouth wide, and slowly take him in. You were only halfway down his shaft before he hit the back of your mouth. You slowly retract before going in again. And again. And again. Piotr’s breathing hard and raspy, peppered with stifled moans as your mouth moves up and down – your hand trailing behind, as your grip tightens and untightens – stimulating him to no end.

He brings a hand to your head, following your pace, then urging you forward into a quicker rhythm. You wanted to take all of him in, and knew that he wanted that too. You gaped wider to allow more of his length into you. He let out an exasperated breath in response, his head up; eyes closed, facing heavenward in a silent prayer.

His cock was now past the back, and inside your throat. You knew how to keep a gag reflex down, and it was especially helpful in this situation.

You quickened your rhythm, moving up and down his length with ease – releasing him from your mouth at one instance with a loud ‘pop’ and giving him a few strokes with your hand – before going right back into it. You pressed your tongue against his cock at each move. He hisses at the sensations, following them immediately with moans, before suddenly pushing his dick into you in a swift motion – as you take him in deep – but he quickly pulls out. You hold onto his cock with a hand, and let his release pump into your mouth, tongue out and flared to get every drop of him. You lick his head of residual cum – and once it’s over – he moves to get his composure in check, and is dressed up in seconds.

You lick your lips and swallow, before you give Piotr a satisfied smile.

All of a sudden, he kneels before you, both of you now at eye-level. You look at him quizzically.

‘’It is not in my nature to let myself be pleasured and not return the favour. Please. Allow me.’’ He asks, a different kind of need in his voice. Your lips curve into a smile.

‘’If you insist.’’

He sits down with his back against the wall, and pulls you onto his lap, letting your head rest against his shoulder. He hitches up your dress, before running his finger down the fabric of your panties. He places a hand under you as he gently pries your legs open, slowly running it up and down your inner thigh in the process. Your face scrunches up as you feel the growing arousal in your core. He brings his lips next to your ear, a string of Russian escaping him in a heavy breath.

‘’I don’t know what you’re saying, but keep saying it.’’ You whine as he starts putting pressure all around your sensitive spots – two fingers moving up and down over your entrance.

‘’I said… Just relax for me, I will take care of you.’’ He quickens his motions, before placing his finger directly over your clit. He presses down, and a deep moan emerges from you against his ear. He continues, circling over it – pressing down every time he hits full circle. You try your best to contain your pleasure, but with no such luck. Your grasp at his free arm to ease off the pressure and put a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

He realises he’s found your most pleasurable spot, focusing entirely on the bundle of nerves that’s driving you insane – with each movement of his finger eliciting moans of alternating pitch. You bite your lip before your head tilts back abruptly, mouth open wide, threatening to release a much-too-loud indication of pleasure. Piotr quickly brings a hand over your mouth, as you moan into it, dampening the sounds of utter pleasure coming out from your mouth. He slows down his actions, but doesn’t let up. He moves his finger closer to your core, shifting your panties aside to gain access, before pushing in slowly.

One… two fingers in, as he pulses into your pussy – which had been aching for this very moment. You were already wet all over. Panties soaked, but he’s still at it.

A little bit of you flows down your thighs, and onto the fabric of his pants. But he didn’t seem to mind.  He pushes deeper into you before adding one more finger – now three – while using his other hand to stimulate your clit, edging you into climax. You use your hand to shield your mouth – you knew you were close, and didn’t want a repeat of what happened before. ‘’Piotr…’’ you whine, ‘’I’m so close, baby. Take me home.’’

‘’kak pozhelayete.’’ (As you wish) he breathes into your ear.

He picks up speed, drawing circles onto your clit with just the right amount of pressure that makes you squirm on his lap – his fingers still moving in and out inside you. You twist your upper body to face him and draw him into a deep, fiery kiss, just as the orgasm found you.

The sweet sensation of release flows down your core, as you throw your head back onto Piotr’s shoulder, holding on tightly to his arm as the climax takes over you. He holds you still with a hand around your waist, as your body trembles through the sensation, and removes his fingers from inside you.

Heavy pants fall from your mouth, as you turn around to face him, straddling over his lap.

‘’That was… I’m sorry if it was…‘’ He begins.

You interrupt him with a kiss, softly placing a hand on his cheek, hooking the other arm over his neck – keeping him close. He instinctively brings his hands up to your waist.

‘’Don’t be sorry, babe. I enjoyed it… enjoyed you.’’ You say as you pull away from the kiss.

You gaze into each other, as time stood still around you, with only the dancing lights from the headlights of cars and streetlamps from outside world to illuminate the moment in its familiar dull blue glow.

For the first time, you notice just how serene his blue eyes look – and the dim lighting did nothing to impede their beauty. What was more bewitching was the person they belonged to – you could feel the warmth that this man exuded, and it made you feel magnetised to him; like you didn’t want this moment to end. This was bad. You weren’t meant to have anyone for the long term – one night, one timers were more suited to your lifestyle, but you didn’t know if you wanted to let go of a man like him.

 ‘’When can I see you again?’’

His deep, raspy voice breaks the train of your thoughts, and now you’re here again in this moment.

‘’Oh, um… yeah I…’’ You preemptively look at your watch. ‘’Let’s get you out of here first.’’

You walk him back to the entrance of the art gallery. Debating whether it would be worth the trouble to move forward with him. You think about your Boss, and a deep hatred is lit within you.

Piotr’s eyes linger over you, as you both make your way out onto the driveway. It was a cold night, and just as you bring your hands up to brace yourself from the cold, Piotr immediately put his jacket –  (when did he take it off?) – over you. With that one action, you had your mind made up for you.

You smile tenderly at him. ‘’Piotr?’’

‘’Yes?’’ All his attention was on you at this moment. A rush of adrenaline pushes through him as he awaits your next words.

‘’I’m free next weekend. Is that alright? I’ll give you my phone number, and we can work out the details later.’’

‘’That sounds perfect, Y/N.’’

Just as he responds, you hear the sound of gravel popping, followed by a pulling screech, as a cab arrives at the driveway. He holds your gaze for a moment, moving to open the door. You pull him back and give him a kiss on the cheek, before walking briskly away from the driveway; leaving Piotr to watch as your figure disappears back into the gallery.

[windsorgirllove]

The Prince and The King: Dirk Strider and Kazuaki Nanaki

It may be 4 whole months after the Epilogues came out, but guess what - I’m still thinking about Dirk Strider. And who can blame me, considering… well, everything. Dirk caused a lot of different reactions from everyone, but the way that his character finally clicked for me was watching him take over Jake’s mind and realizing “oh, he’s trying to ‘all will be one with the King’ them”. And then I realized that that would make sense to literally one other person in the whole world, so I decided to write an essay about it. As you do.

Spoilers for Homestuck, including the epilogue, and Hatoful Boyfriend and Hatoful Boyfriend: Holiday Star.

      I. Who are these nerds?

For those of you who don’t know, I’ll give a quick summary of these two characters before I start comparing them.

      A. Dirk Strider

Dirk Strider is one of the human characters in Homestuck. He is the biological father of Dave Strider and Rose Lalonde, and is an alternate Universe version of Bro Strider. He grew up alone in a post apocalyptic world after an alien queen took over Earth. He is the Prince of Heart and a Derse Dreamer. He is a big gay nerd. In the Homestuck Epilogues, his worst traits come out: his self obsession and his splinter selves that come about due to Heart shenanigans, which led to him making some… morally dubious decisions. By which I mean obtained ultimate power and started rewriting the wills of his friends because “he knows best”. Also he’s aware of the fact he’s in a story now, so he became the narrator. And in one of the timelines present in the Epilogues, he killed himself.

      B. Kazuaki Nanaki/The King

Kazuaki Nanaki is a bird featured in Hatoful Boyfriend: Holiday Star. He is a depressed college student studying literature. He fell in love with a boy who ended up pushing him further and further into depression, until the two of them decided to kill themselves. Kazuaki went through with it, his boyfriend did not. He woke up in the afterlife alone and scared. He ends up creating a star from a candle and a chair, which attracts other souls to it’s light. He lured people in because he was lonely, but didn’t want to get hurt again, so he absorbed all the souls into his will, and became the King of the star. And then all the characters end up in the afterlife too, most of whom are still alive, and it’s a whole thing.

So how are they similar? Well, they both are clearly mentally ill, both gay, both killed themselves, both took over the wills of their close friends. Let’s look at their big three narrative similarities: their ascension, their revenge on boyfriends, and their takeovers of will.

      II. The Ultimate Self v Kinghood

The Ultimate Self is a concept that was brought up at the end of Homestuck and was explored properly in the Homestuck Epilogues. It seems to be the endpoint for all of the godtiers, wherein they fully realize their Aspect. For example, Rose is ascending as well, and since her aspect is Light (ie knowledge), she gains knowledge of all timelines all at once. Dirk’s aspect, meanwhile, is Heart, which here means soul, so his Ultimate Self is all his splinters combining into one person. (As I sidenote, I wonder how much their classes play into this - Rose is a Seer and is seeing timelines, and Dirk is a Prince and is destroying everyone’s sense of self). It also appears to come along with an awareness of the narrative structure and the fact that they are in the story, which certainly does wonders for the mind. Dirk takes control of it - the narrative, that is - because he believes that he knows best for all his friends.

One thing we know for certain is the ascending fucking hurts. To quote Rose Lalonde: “I am ascending, and it’s terrible.” This process was enough to fully push Dirk over from “has poor judgement and a god complex” to full blown “evil and knows it.” He gains the power to take away the free will of all the other characters, and wants to make them all ascend and then stick their consciousness into robots that he made, because it’s “better” for them. He already carries this plan out with Rose, who he selected to be first because she’s the most like him. Essentially, he wants to make everyone just like him.

Meanwhile, Kinghood seems to have a lot of similarities. Kazuaki seems to gain some reality warping powers once he dies - he is able to transform a room with a candle and a chair into a star with a lighthouse and a throne. He basically makes his world run on fairy tale logic. This extends even to his form. Throughout the game, the characters are represented by photos of birds. However, when Kazuaki is the King, he is rendered in watercolors like the rest of the Holiday Star. Later, when he gets angry, he distorts into a darker colored being with multiple heads, and in his true form he is a monochrome pencil sketch. He also can appear anywhere on the star at any time, because all the residents of the star are under his hivemind. He can control the layout of his home, which is also visible from the outside (in the real world). He can create zones in the star specific to the people within in order to convince them to become one with him. And perhaps scariest of all, he can know the secrets of the people in the star, and toture them with their deepest darkest fear.

So ascending and Kinghood are very similar, except that Kinghood seems to be more in the line of eldritch horror.

      III. “I’ll Never Let You Break My Heart Again”

Dirk and Kazuaki also have meaningful romantic relationships with other boys that go super duper bad and end up being their start of darkness. Their whole evil plan can basically be boiled down to getting revenge on the boy who wronged them.

      A. Jake

Jake English is the boy that Dirk was in love with. He is from the same universe as Dirk, but from several centuries in the past (which is the present for us). He is the biological father of Jade Harley and John Egbert. He grew up alone on an island in the Pacific, and styles himself as a manly adventurer. Jake and Dirk end up dating when they enter the game, and break up after a few months because they’re dumb teens who can’t communicate and so are all of their friends. In the Epilogues, Jake is unwillingly wed to Jane Crocker, another of their friends, in the Candy Timeline. In the Meat Timeline, Dirk has taken control of the narration and forces Jake to confess his love for Dirk in front of a huge crowd.

      B. Uzune

Hitori Uzune was the guy that Kazuaki was in love with. He was a fellow college student at the university Kazuaki was attending, and was similarly fucked up and depressed. He convinces Kazuaki that they should kill themselves, and the two of them overdose on pills. But just as Kazuaki is drifting away Hitori gets up and steals Kazuaki’s identity in order to get revenge for his dead brother. That whole thing is actually the main plot of the game, kinda. Hitori refuses to call an ambulance for Kazuaki even as he changes his mind, and let’s him die.

      C. Angry Gay Selfrightousness

So first of all I think we can agree that Kazuaki is a little more valid for going off the deep end here. But they both did have a similar experience in love. Both of them felt deeply betrayed by the boy they loved. Both of them were super pissed about this, and it shows in their supervillain plans. Neither of the are directly setting out to get revenge, but their desire is written all over their actions.

With Dirk, he spends an inordanent amount of time calling Jake stupid while he is posing as the narrator, as well as inserting thoughts about himself into Jake’s mind when he’s about to have sex with Jane. (He’s also just weirdly horny the whole epilogue, in general.) After driving Jake to do his public confession in the Meat timeline, Dirk responds with “And to love Dirk is to obey him” in the narration. And finally, right before he’s about to fuck of to space Dirk plans this epic confrontation that ends with the quote that heads this section.

As for Kazuaki, the whole way he was able to become the King was because of the trauma that Hitori put him through, namely the killing him part. He absorbed people because of not wanting to be left alone again. And once Hitori enters the dream he turns all his focus onto him, blinding him and forcing him into a small pocket of the dream so he can’t hurt anyone again. And even after he is defeated he still reaches out and tries to grab Hitori.

Even when the two of them try to move on, they can’t.

      IV. “All Will Become One With the King” - Narrative Takeovers and the Hivemind

In order for there to be a narrative takeover, there has to be a narrative in the first place. And both Homestuck and Hatoful Boyfriend certainly have one, and I don’t mean in the sense that they are a story that we consume. I mean that there is a narrative thread that the characters themselves are aware of.

      A. Homestuck “Canon”

Let’s start with Homestuck, which in the Epilogues actually brought the term “canon” into the vocabulary of the characters via one Rose Lalonde. As a Seer and fanfiction writer, it makes sense she would be familiar with it. In the epilogues she discovered that there was something wrong with the timeline they were in - it was “non-canon”. This is different from the timeline being doomed, although it is similar. In both cases it means the timeline in question is fading away.

As defined by Rose, in order for a timeline to be canon, it has to be three things: 1. It has to be true, 2. It has to be essential, and 3. It has to be relevant. True as in true, essential as in essential to the characters or the story, and relevant as in relevant to the audience. Knowledge of the idea of canon seems to come along with ascending to the Ultimate Self, since the only people who know about it are Rose, Dirk, and Alt!Calliope.

Once Dirk ascends and realizes that the timeline they’re in is “non-canon”, he seizes control of the narrative in order to steer it back to canon and stop it from fading away. And once he takes control, he gains the same knowledge that the author would have of all the characters (except for Roxy because of his voidy-ness). He also wants to make everyone else ascend to their Ultimate Selves as well, and then take away their agency. How this worked is that he believes that their bodies wouldn’t be able to handle ascending (even though his did) and he makes them robot bodies because he’s just so nice. And the first people he assimilates are Rose and Dave, his children. And also as I said above, he inserted thoughts into people's heads and made them do things they wouldn’t normally do.

And Dirk taking control of the narrative isn’t an isolated incident, either. The narration has been passed around like a basketball, or more accurately stolen like loose change by a clumsy pickpocket. For the most part it is regulated to the cherubs - Caliborn and Calliope, as well as Doc Scratch - and Andrew Hussie. And that’s not even to mention all the people that give commands to the characters. The fabric of the text is very present in Homestuck.

      B. The All Knowing Eyes of the King

The King also tries to take control of the narrative as well, although not in the same way as Dirk. He isn’t aware of the fact that he is in a story in the same way. However, by trying to bring the whole cast into his hive mind he is essentially taking control of the narrative, since whoever controls the characters controls the story. He can’t full on insert thoughts into people’s heads like Dirk, but he can know the secrets of the people in the Holiday Star, similar to Dirk gaining the knowledge of the author. Then he uses a person’s deepest fear to convince them that the world outside is too scary, too dangerous, and it is safer to stay with him. Plus he uses creepy picture books to do it, which is certainly an aesthetic choice.

Two of the best examples of this is how he deals with Shuu and Yuuya. In Shuu’s case, it’s his most effective argument for staying on the Holiday Star - possibly because it is so similar to his own. Shuu was in love with a (married) colleague of his, but never told him, even as he passed away. Being as this was the only person Shuu cared about, he fell into a depression and also started murdering people. The King convinced him that there was nothing more in the real world that he could find a use for - that it would be better if he stayed here, where he could experiment and research forever. It worked so well that it took the ghost of his love to shake him out of it.

On the opposite side of this we have Yuuya. Yuuya was not actually supposed to be on the Holiday Star, but he dove in (basically) in order to save his little brother. And The King probably had the best chance of blackmailing him, because Yuuya has done some shit - including the murder of his infant half-brother. He did this in order to help his little brother, but still, jeez. The King uses this to convince him that he’s a bad person, that he would be better off in the Star, where his guilt couldn’t hurt him anymore. This doesn’t work, mainly because Yuuya is a more emotionally mature person that the King. He refused to be converted, because all the bad things he’s done has made him the person he is today, and to get rid of that would be irresponsible. His whole speech ends with this truly phenomenal quote: “It’s my grief. And you can’t have it.”

      V. Conclusion

So, what have I learned from this? Um, don’t trust gay men I guess. And also that mental illness and suicide is a very serious thing. I feel that with this essay I have run into the problem that my professors have told me numerous times - I can identify an interesting point, but I have trouble drawing meaning from this. So if any of you can figure out what this connection means, please let me know! Mostly to me it seems like there are definite links between my favorite stories, and it’s that giving in to despair is not the answer.

      VI. Miscellaneous: The Meta of HB - Hiyoko as the Narrator

Hatoful Boyfriend is not quite as meta as Homestuck - nothing really is. But it isn’t the benchmark of weirdness for dating games for nothing. And most of this weirdness revolves around Hiyoko, which makes sense. She is the narrator after all - and I don’t just mean that in the normal story sense. I mean that in the Homestuck sense as well.

Hiyoko is aware of the fact that she is in a game. She makes references to her stats, and is aware of the interface of the screen. She also doesn’t know the name of the town she’s lived in all her life until someone else says it in Holiday Star, because it was never established in the first game. She is also aware of alternate universes of each romance route. Because Hiyoko dies. A lot. She dies in Shuu’s route, in the neutral route, and in the true route. And in Holiday Star (which in it of itself is an alternate universe to the main game) she meets Death and is able to recognize him from all the other times she’s died.

The important thing to get from all this is that unlike Some People, Hiyoko never goes crazy from this fact. She’s in a game, and she knows it, and she’s cool with it. It should probably be pointed out that Hiyoko is dumb as a box of rocks, and with ignorance comes bliss, they say. But still, it is interesting to see an example of a character with meta knowledge who manages to deal with it, instead of going full supervillain.

[secretshinigami]

Masterlist of Demegawa-chan’s Special Prompts

A compiled list of everyone’s prompts from the exchange – thank you for letting us post them, and we hope you guys enjoy them! Prompts are organized by their submitter, so be sure to give credit if you use one.

niatsuki

Near and Light kissing

Mikami and Light in the rain sharing an umbrella

Misa in a suit

Domestic Mikalight

Matsuda confronting Near on the theory he brings up at the end of the manga

Nate and Light having an obtuse argument, but with romantic undertones

toygowther

Light wearing a crop top, high waisted jeans and fishnets, and a choker. 

L having a nice day out in the park eating ice cream with Maki and Near 

Musical!Light smiling

Misa in a cute gothic dress doing a finger heart

L and Light wearing Misa Misa merch at one of her concerts.

AU in which Light is actually a woman. The fic would follow how Misa reacts to it and if she would still want to be her girlfriend.

Role swap au. Light as Misa and Misa as Light.

Light and Misa meeting a different way and actually forming a healthy relationship. 

spaceblue

L, Naomi & B shenanigans

Naomi, Wedy and Lidner as Charlie's angels (or L's angels?)

Wammy kids as Pokemon trainers

Matt gets the rest of the Wammy kids to play Smash with him

Naomi and L after the end of LABB, after he says his name is Rue Ryuzaki 

Drama!L and drama!Raye Penber bickering 

hazblogs

your take on A's gender and sexuality, bonus points if they're not a cis man and straight

Mello and sun imagery

Beyond Birthday and his eyes

Near with Hanahaki disease (pick who it's about if you want a specific ship)

Mello and witchcraft, if possible in the canon universe

Naomi interacting with Beyond (au or canon), if possible talking about L or the Wammy kids

L/Light being soulmates, in canon or in an AU

how Matt started smoking (I am comfortable with heavy drug themes)

polyphenols

L learning to garden, paint, cook, do taxes, care for an animal, or pay for a parking ticket for the first time

All the times L has cursed Right In Front Of The Task Force (poor Soichiro)

L alone, dressed for the cold, in a cathedral during midnight hours, gazing at the altar in silent contemplation

Aiber and Wedy at an evening gala on a mission

L and Alessandro Juliani warmly shaking hands

Young Naomi in a darkened room with red string and case clippings everywhere

What chain of events led to Quillsh Wammy deciding to adopt L and care for him?

Matsuda cant swim and he’s knocked into a body of water on a case, one of the task force has to go after him

The conversation that happened between L and Rem before he walked out onto that rooftop

L traveling somewhere exotic for a case, meets celebrity of your choice and becomes unlikely friends, takes down crime circle together 

Naomi and L interact side by side as partners during a seperate case  

paralllaxes

16 year old Gevanni (normal day or family banter)

Naomi in modern clothing

the SPK in one of those cheesy family pictures.

Naomi thinking about LABB while in Japan

SPK found family stuff / domesticity

Naomi being with the SPK (with or without Raye is the author's choice)

kiranatrix

Light and L in emo/goth clothes or in an emo band

Light in a crown on a throne

Ryuk doing something funny or playing a prank while invisible

L and Light on a road trip

Misa painting Rem’s looooong nails or giving her a makeover

Death Note characters as birds! 

Sayu gets a grumpy parrot and Light doesn’t realize it can talk until after he hears it repeat some Kira plan thing, so he has to adopt it to keep it from spilling on him

L and Light talk about something important that happened to them in their childhood

L has to deal with growing amount of Light’s products in their shared shower and tries some out of curiosity with disasterous results

Light accidentally eats the last piece of cake in Kira HQ and L can’t deal at 4am

Lawlight Apocalypse AU of any variety 

Beyond breaks out of prison after LABB, where does he go?

47gaslamps

The task force with portentous umbrellas

Halle, symbolically framed between Near and Mello

Naomi kicking Light's butt after he attempts to use force

Matsuda gives Yamamoto a welcome-aboard to the former Task Force / 

AU where the drawer IS forced open

Misa has to shield Light from the paparazzi

translightyagami

Light and L in a crowded apartment, obviously lived in, playing piano next to each other

Light sewing something like his father's suit jacket or a shirt Mikami tore

Indulgent ask for my cryptid AU L and Light sitting in a graveyard having a nice time

Light having a smoke before he has to go tell his parents he's moving in with Misa

Light and Sayu having a difficult conversation where they're both saying they're gay without out loud saying it

Near goes to a Lego building event and meets a nice boy who isn't a Wammy kid

almostsane-things

Wammy's kid(s) of your choice sitting on the roof, watching the sky

Beyond Birthday and Candy Guro

DN characters in a rock band, maybe the shinigami are their mascots

Draw a less appreciated character but try something new with your style/medium. (i.e. use different brushes, incorporate a traditional art/craft like painting or cross-stitch, make a collage piece, go abstract, etc)

L in prison

Misa and Sayu becoming friends/ hanging out

The legend of Kira, how has the story of Kira changed over time in universe? Do people believe it was something supernatural, a government conspiracy, a group of vigilantes, or perhaps it's faded to nothing but a cautionary tale for misbehaving kids

A DN character enjoys that thing you really like/ find interesting to learn about, and shares that interest with someone else. (i.e. Matt plays your favorite video game with someone, Linda teaches someone about gardening, etc)

weneedtotalkaboutdeathnote

A hot double date with BBxDemegawa and LxHiguchi

B meeting L (any context is fine).

Naomi and Raye getting coffee together, having a nice time.

L can see ghosts, but he chooses to ignore them. This becomes increasingly had to do when B’s spirit shows up during the Kira investigation.

An Au where L defeated Kira, grew older, and basically disappeared. Older Mello (mid 20sish, now a detective) follows a lead that takes him to the washed up L. 

Non serial killer, "Unprivate Detective" Beyond Birthday works on a case with Naomi Misora.

pensulliwen

Misa making Valentine’s Day chocolate, perhaps while daydreaming about a fantastically unlikely result of giving them to Light.

Rem holding Misa as they fly over the city.

Meme redraws featuring Misa, Light, and L. Just go crazy. Any ridiculous meme image, shove these dorks in there instead.

Misa convincing Rem to take her flying, the feelings they both experience in the air together.

Misa and Mogi on a shopping “date” in which the unlikely pair manage to work together surprisingly well.

Light considers eliminating Misa from the equation many times, but there’s always something that stops him. Explore how he views her and the dissonance between how he views her versus how he views himself, as well as the reasoning for keeping her around longer than intended. 

izaori

Demegawa in a hot tub but instead of water its money

Mello playing soccer with the other kids (like Matt for example). 

Matsuda playing cookie clicker, because he's obsessed.

Young Demegawa when he first got his job, maybe a few months into the job.

Sayu studying for her big exam coming up so she goes to big bro Light for help.

Ryuk discovers sour green apples rather than just the red ones. Maybe Sidoh discovers dark chocolate/white chocolate at the same time.

mikami

High school age Mikami in a high school uniform.

MikaLight out on a date

anything L/Higuchi

A Sakura TV Documentary about the Kiras. 

MikaLight office romance, non-Kira AU.

Write me a fic about Demegawa. Can definitely be comedy, but please take the character somewhat seriously.

ghostoftasslehoff

L and Light playing piano together.

L with a kitty

Sayu and ‘Ryuzaki’ meeting, and hitting it off 

Matsuda recieving a present or something from a ‘secret admirer’

A day in the life of Matsuda (away from the task force)

L and B’s first meeting (can be shippy or not, whichever my Shinigami prefers)

L tries to engage in punnery with the task force, but only one person engages (preference for Light, but surprise me!)

Sayu’s (or Sachiko’s) thoughts on Light’s new secretive actions as Kira becomes more and more active 

tzigi

(All canon-compliant)

L gets first suspicions about a string of heart attacks which may be a new murder case for him

Light’s first day at To-Oh after L’s death

Light’s first day of work at the NPA 

Near tries to pick up L’s investigation

Why did Near go back to L’s original font for the “L” logo between chapter 108 and the C-Kira oneshot? 

A non-Lawlight rendering of the first evening of Light being chained to L after everyone else has already gone to sleep (preferably in keeping with the One Day one-shot) 

Light begging Ryuk for his life

Light’s funeral

catfishmaster

The main characters (plus B) as DND characters

Older Near (like 25-30) with a bunch of cats he keeps for company

Roger bonding with Near after the Kira case.

Beyond Birthday faked his death in 2004 and now lives alone as a poor and pretty miserable theatre actor with a fake name. Oh, and also it's a Kira wins au.

Years after the Kira case has concluded, L takes on Near as an apprentice.

Matt takes Near on a tour of an afterlife-like world they both wound up in. It's more like a dreamscape than anything else but it serves as an afterlife.  

[stanprokopenko]

Process for Successful Drawings – Caricature Essentials

This is an example by Court Jones based on his video on Shape Design and Facial Features caricature lesson.

***

I figured a good way to end the course is with a caricature of Stan the Man himself, Mr. Prokopenko.

Stan’s likeness is a little tricky. It could go many different ways. Even with his heavy eyebrows and manly stubble, he still has kind of a baby face. So to help me out, I decided to use the Spirit Animal technique to come up with the exaggeration. After some thought, I’ve determined that Stan’s Spirit Animal is… a beet.

Now I know what you’re thinking, it’s just because he’s Ukrainian and I’m stereotyping. And that’s not true at all. Stan is actually a huge fan of beets. Every time I see him at lunch, he’s enjoying pickled beets or beet salad or just a big ole’ bowl of borscht. His favorite song is Beat It. The man is beet-crazy! If you see him at a convention or out on the street, feel free to just give him a handful of beets. He’ll eat them raw.

Thumbnail Sketch

Of course Stan’s large cranium and thin neck coincidentally worked really well with the beet shape. So I begin with some thumbnail sketches, to try and figure out how to make Stan’s face work on this beet. I soon realize his features should sit low on his head, because his forehead and hair take up more real estate than on the average person. I think the concept here is a good start. But the features aren’t executed in a way that’s accurate to him. So I end this one and try sketching from a different angle.

For this second sketch, I maintain the same basic concept of the inner beet spirit, but I thicken the beet-neck just a bit at the top. I also like the idea of really small features set into a large wide head. It’s funnier. This one is working much better than the first sketch. Although I’m not a fan of straight-on views. I prefer more dynamic angles that allow me to show the three-dimensional quality of a face. So I move on to a photo with a more interesting angle.

Again, I try to maintain the beetroot proportions for the head shape and then place the features on top of that. In this thumbnail sketch, I’m able to draw a more dynamic angle which I push even further to give it more visual interest. And there’s even a slightly sassy expression on his face that I try to make more obvious in my sketch. Because of the interesting angle and expression, I feel like this is the one that I can take to the next stage. The likeness needs some work, but that’s what the rough sketch is for.

Rough Sketch

I begin the rough sketch by tracing directly over the thumbnail. I use some simple guides to align the features in perspective on the head. And I slow down a bit to give more attention to each feature. More time than I allowed in the thumbnail sketch phase anyway. One of the distinctive traits about Stan that isn’t strictly physical is the darkness around his eyes. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but also a slightly darker tone than the rest of his face. So I try to indicate that in my rough sketch.

At this point, it feels pretty good, but I’m not entirely sold on the likeness yet. Something I’ve learned about likeness is that it’s usually easier to see with the use of light and dark values, rather than with just lines. I could continue crosshatch shading to darken the values, but for the sake of speed, I add some more shading with a large brush. It’s pretty rough and simple, but I think it does add some visual information to define the likeness which wasn’t there before, like the volumes of the forehead and cheeks. When I squint down and blur my eyes, I really see it. So It’s just enough to confirm that I’m on the right track even if it’s not perfect yet.

Abstraction

For this next stage in developing this caricature, I flip the rough sketch over to better see any structural problems and then draw a Reilly Abstraction on top of it. The rhythm lines of the Abstraction are drawn from one side of the head to the other to help check if things are lined up or if they need to be moved. Some features, like the eyebrows, are going to be asymmetrical, so I allow for that and look for unintended distortions and asymmetries. I discover that the ear I drew on the rough sketch was too low. But for the most part, everything else was in a good spot. Even if all the features are determined to be well-placed, these geometric rhythm lines are most helpful because they act as an idealized template of Stan’s head – sort of a cleanser, washing away the rough lines of the earlier sketch, so that I can trace much more nicely designed shapes and features in the right locations at the next stage.

Oh, and besides the ear being too low, the Abstraction helps me figure out that the head would look better if the forehead was more bulging in front.

Final Sketch

After a quick check, I flip it back around, dim down the Abstraction and begin my final linear drawing on new layer, tracing over the Abstraction, but with much more attention to the exact shapes of the contours and features and also to the quality of my lines.

This lesson is all about drawing caricatures with special attention paid to the visual design. As I’ve said, a good exaggeration and likeness is not enough. To draw at a professional level, you need to slow down and spend time creating a refined look or visual design. It doesn’t have to be realistic and based on anatomy, like my work. You can draw abstractly or simple and cartoony. But whatever it is, you need to figure out what you want the finished style to be and then keep working on this until you’ve achieved that look. Tracing over the previous drawing is a great way to do that.

Now, the problem with being the judge of your own progress is that while you’re learning, your artist’s eye may not be able to see all the flaws that a more experienced artist may see. As you continue your studies, your eye will improve, followed by your hand’s ability to make the right marks. But during this time is when it’s important to have a teacher, mentor or at least another artist at a higher level of development help you and let you know where you can improve. Eventually though, you’ll be able to look back on your older work and wonder why you missed all those drawing problems the first time around.

With my linear lay-in finished, I now add the soft edges. Wherever a form transitions from a light to dark value, that transition will be either a hard, firm, soft or lost edge. Once those transitions are all in, I finally start to add the values, which is the final stage of this drawing.

I always seem to have the most success in a drawing or painting when I work on a middle grey background. In the premium version of this course, I demonstrate shading drawings with different strategies. On my David Bowie caricature, I shade on a white background, which shows how it negatively affects my perception of the values on the face. Working on a white background prevents me from shading as darkly as I should because the bright white fools my eyes into thinking a value I use on the face is darker than what it really is. A light-middle grey, as I’ve used here, sets me up right in the range of what Stan’s caucasian flesh tone already is. So even before I begin, I’m in the right value range.

Most of the time in a realistically shaded portrait like this is spent working in the middle range of values. Or the halftones. The dark accents and bright highlights are fun and give the drawing more visual punch. But they wouldn’t work if the the middle values aren’t properly figured out and correctly placed first. The meat of the portrait is in the halftones. They are what’s going to sell it to the viewer. And the halftones are usually all within a very narrow range on the value scale. So there’s not much room for error. If you shade the halftones with too much contrast, the subject will look shiny or metallic. If you don’t have enough contrast, the portrait will look dull and flat. And if you don’t shade and cover the shapes evenly, you may get spotty or streaky effects where bits of light or dark peek through your strokes. So make sure you’re using the right tool for the job.

Most of the Photoshop brushes I’m using to shade here are very subtle brushes already. One stroke from them doesn’t cover much because they have heavy textures applied to them. I have to keep on adding stroke on top of stroke to lay down a value. It’s similar to using very light pressure with a hard charcoal or graphite on a rough paper. In fact, I think my main brush here is called “Shady Graphite” by Kyle Webster. It comes standard with the latest version of Photoshop. But you can find or even create similar brushes in other painting apps.

Also, it probably goes without saying, but when shading a drawing or painting, use the largest brush for an area that you can. You want to be able to cover broad areas with less brush strokes. But to get hard edges or for textures like the hair and stubble you’ll need a smaller brush. But those should be used sparingly, lest you end up with a streaky and sketchy rendering. Most of your time in a drawing like this will be spent using large brushes.

Some final bits of advice to create professional quality caricatures with a strong sense of design are: First and foremost, keep working on it until you can’t make it any better. Push yourself to draw and paint like the people you admire. If you get to the end and aren’t sure if it’s a success, get up, walk away and come back to look at it with fresh eyes. Or flip it in reverse one more time to examine it backwards. If there are any structural problems, they’ll be much more obvious. If you can correct those problems, then do so. If there are just too many problems to fix, you may need to go back a few steps and start again from your rough sketch or Abstraction.

[ginnyzero]

A Case Study in the Limitations of Worldbuilding (my books)

I’ve mentioned before that I wrote the Lone Prospect specifically as a reaction against certain werewolf tropes and to push science fiction and fantasy genre conventions which means that I fail spectacularly at writing to a traditional publishing market. Here we are almost at 2020 and man, they’re making another Dune movie and Asimov is going to get a Foundation series television show.

I’ll be honest here, when I conceived The Heaven’s Heathens as a concept, I envisioned it as a movie or a television series as well as a book series. I wanted it to appeal to someone like Vin Diesel, an action star who is also a producer. There is even a Vin Diesel based character in the books. I’m sure you can find him if you look close enough. I also wrote Gideon for another very specific actor who shall remain currently nameless because I wanted that actor to have a fun part to play that wasn’t horrible.

This did end up snowballing until almost every major character has an actor or actress as a face cast. (Given the huge amount of characters in this series, believe me, this helps me. You have no idea how much it helps me. Gah. It’s the only way I can keep physical descriptions straight!)

I wrote the world in such a way that the technology and special effects (such as werewolf transformations) would fit into a $65 million price point. I’m a firm believer that a good science fiction/fantasy movie doesn’t need a tent pole budget in order to be a good film. For reference, Riddick and Serenity were $65 million budget movies. The latest Keanu Reeves movie, Replicas, had a $30 Million budget movie and was roughly the same level tech as I have in the Heathens universe.

Because, since Serenity and Riddick came out the people at Unreal Engine have made advanced leaps in technology that special effects can be rendered faster and better than they used to be and thus are cheaper.

But I was doing this back around 2013, so $65 Million seemed like a good price point to aspire to for a science fantasy type movie that involves werewolves, floating vehicles and explosions. I chose a price point in order to limit what I could do in the world instead of going hog wild with super advanced tech and crazy vehicle and space ship designs. I wanted to push my money towards specific things like floating vehicles with the motorcycles having decorative holograms instead of wheels, data to mass technology where it is assembled out of a computer by “lasers,” werewolf transformations and if they are in armor (think Ratchet and Clank style body armor but with more rockets,) armor that changed with the transformation and depending on where the story was set, Dredd like cityscapes.

Oh and explosions. Don’t forget the explosions. Gunfire. Explosions. Okay. Moving on.

At a $65 million budget, I could even reach for short space scenes if necessary depending on story.

Now, I normally do not do this for my books and I will be honest, I haven’t done it this way since. Most of my book ideas I do not see as applicable to television or movies. Heathens is different to me because it is so firmly rooted into that action genre that it made it worthwhile for me to go, “okay, if I was to get a movie deal, Lord willing, how would I want them to spend their money.” I mean, for cast, I have no control so I cast who I like and make raspberries. There are a lot of action movie stories and a lot of science fiction action movie stories. So, it made sense to do this for me. (It may not make sense for you.)

And if I was going to write it relatively to market, I could have kept it in the contemporary time frame that most urban fantasy is set in and appeal to those that read that type of thing. There is a more important reason than “I want to be different” to why I chose not to do this.

The Heathen’s universe could be summed up as the Sons of Anarchy/Expendables of Urban Fantasy. Which is totally ignoring the science fiction aspect of it, but those are the two major influences that sparked me into writing the story. (And my university English professor going “no vampires!”) The Expendables is a motorcycle club (Second) that does mercenary work (first.)

The Expendable movies are focused on the jobs that the Expendables take as a mercenary unit. Whereas Sons of Anarchy is exclusively about a motorcycle club that runs guns, does porn and a couple of the smaller charters make drugs and they run into trouble with other gangs, the federal government and the terrorist groups they’re supplying guns to in the first place. The large plot being about the troubled history of the main gang leadership and what they were trying to accomplish (and ended up failing miserably at because people.) They are a depiction of an “outlaw motorcycle gang” or the 1%ers culture. Sons was written by Kurt Sutter as a tragedy with Hamlet being an influence.

When I started delving into the world of motorcycle clubs and what type of legitimate work those classified as motorcycle gangs by the federal government did, I kept running across security work. I decided that action, adventure suited my style of writing so I’d combine the two concepts to give me more conflicts to work with other than “this werewolf pack is going after that werewolf pack” or “there’s a murderer in this werewolf pack and we must solve the mystery.”

And I’m very insistent on my books being about what it says on the tin. If my werewolves are a motorcycle club that does security, then the books are going to be about them defending their turf, inner club squabbles, getting into trouble with the government(s), gang wars and security jobs big and small. Werewolves, biker clubs and gangs share one major thing in common, the concept of “territory.” That was my major tying thread. (I also was big on making this series at least not kitchen sink every single type of supernatural possible and to focus it on werewolves.)

But! I needed to be able to do this without referencing current biker clubs, federally classed gangs or anything that could be construed as disrespect. I am a small white woman. And, I take my safety very seriously. Sons of Anarchy got away without referencing real gangs because for the most part they kept their story very focused to the town of Charming and to nearby Oakland. Sons stood in for a very prominent white motorcycle club and the Mayans stood in for very prominent Latino motorcycle club and the Niner’s for one of the big black street gangs. There was also a neo-nazi group and an upper middle class almost illuminati group. (I don’t remember, it was season 2 or 3 and the storyline pissed me off so much I’ve tried to block it out.)

In a television series, I feel like you can get away with this. In a book, for the sake of authenticity, I don’t feel like you can so much. Thus, I needed to move my story into the future somehow and have a reason for why these organizations no longer existed. And the best and I’ll admit easiest way is to go “oh, there was a huge war that literally redefined the shape of Earth and all the countries in it.”

This expanded my story even more, because I had to decide what happened to other continents. What survived this war? What didn’t survive? How did our technology and our way of life change? What new stuff are we building out of the ruins of the old stuff? Suddenly, I had this huge fascinating playground to run around in that didn’t need to be 100% accurate to today’s cities or technology or even country boundaries.

I couldn’t encompass it into one book. Yes, the fictional town of Jasper in what would be current day South Dakota is home base. But, they are going out on jobs or forming new charters or people are coming to them going ‘help’ and this shows this new changed world. And depending on the story, and how I feel, the storylines might lean a bit more “Western” gun slinger or horror or family drama. I mean, there can be bounty hunters and super soldiers and pirates and North American wolf monsters.

I’m not going to say that this way will work for anyone. (One of my friends on twitter just thought this was fascinating so I thought I’d blog about it.) In this specific instance, because my influences were so defined, this method of world building and setting rules/limitations through a budget made sense to me in the moment while I was watching hours of Ganglands episodes/motorcycle gang documentaries and reading up on modern wolf science. (In fact, I usually find this whole face casting thing rather self-indulgent and feel some second hand embarrassment cringe. But that’s usually associated with anything to do with 50 Shades of Grey or Cassie Claire.)

This is one way to do things. YMMV. There's no right way of doing things and as long as your world remains consistent no one should care how you came up with it. (Maybe I should apply this to a few other of my ideas. It might help. Ah well.)

[coin-news-blog]

Agorism and Bitcoin: Free People Don’t Ask Maxine Waters for Permission

New Post has been published on https://coinmakers.tech/news/agorism-and-bitcoin-free-people-don-t-ask-maxine-waters-for-permission

Agorism and Bitcoin: Free People Don’t Ask Maxine Waters for Permission

Agorism and Bitcoin: Free People Don’t Ask Maxine Waters for Permission

Anti-agorism Congressional Representative Maxine Waters still has misgivings about Facebook’s proposed Libra digital currency, even after meeting with Swiss government officials to discuss the tech last week. The sustained reservations echo the message of July’s open letter from the House of Representatives to Facebook, calling for a halt on Libra’s ongoing development. While many view regulation and careful legislative feet-dragging a troublesome necessity for crypto mainstreaming, agorists, anarchists, and other free marketeers see a critical problem: the tech is already here, and how we use it in non-violence is nobody else’s damn business.

Intro to Agorism

Agorism is, quite simply, the free exchange of goods and services by individual, free market actors. News.bitcoin.com has previously reported on the philosophy, and this primer about Agorism and crypto is a good place to start for the agora-curious. Suffice to say that at its most basic form, agorism is the philosophy and practice of engaging in free market activity outside of the control or regulations of a state. Living one’s life in such a way, to such an extent as possible, that violent governments are ignored, counteracted, and rendered increasingly irrelevant. The word “agora” itself is a Greek term, meaning “open markets.” The hugely influential agorist activist, philosopher and author Samuel Edward Konkin III once said agorist counter-economics is:

The study or practice of all peaceful human action which is forbidden by the State.

The Problem With Regulation

One of the most misunderstood aspects of agorism, voluntaryism, and anarchism is the fact that chaotic violence and a lack of order are not what is being sought. Agorists want the same things any other sane person wants: better education, better healthcare, better opportunities, and more peace. What is being sought is logical order and voluntary interaction, governed not by sociopathic, economically inept politicians and religious beliefs like the “divine right to rule,” but by logic, science, and the natural reality of individual self-ownership. That is to say, each individual owns his or her own life and body, and by extension, the property legitimately acquired or created by that body and mind.

The regulation of cryptocurrencies by the state exists ostensibly to fight crime and terror. What is seen playing out in reality, however, is that the groups that are by far the largest financiers of terror and violence globally — governments — have labeled themselves “regulators,” and now stifle a technological revolution set to help free billions of people. Waters states, in her August, 25 official assessment of the meeting with Swiss officials:

While I appreciate the time that the Swiss government officials took to meet with us, my concerns remain with allowing a large tech company to create a privately controlled, alternative global currency. I look forward to continuing our Congressional delegation, examining these issues, money laundering, and other matters within the Committee’s jurisdiction.

It is interesting that the state Waters represents, the United States Federal Government, is the world’s leading money launderer, by most rational estimations. After all, what is the unlimited, systematic creation of debt for the benefit of an elite class, represented by pieces of paper and zeroes and ones in computers, but a gigantic scheme to launder financial power? Bitcoin presents a threat because these irresponsible economic practices are simply not possible within the protocol itself.

The United States Federal Government spends over $1.25 trillion on war, annually. There is an infestation of child porn users in the Pentagon and at NASA. The IRS pays people to spy on hardworking Americans, organizing letter threat campaigns to scare even law-abiding citizens into paying money they don’t owe. And these are the regulators “concerned” with crime?

The Biggest Roadblock for Inclusion of the Poor Is Government Regulation

Financial inclusion is a big buzz-phrase these days, especially with influential, mainstream-friendly projects like Libra. It sounds nice. Include the previously disconnected, unbanked, and impoverished in the exciting new “crypto revolution” where blockchain saves us all, ends world hunger, and wipes our asses for us on the way out. There’s just one problem: there’s no need for centralized regulators – only individual human action.

“Hey there, impoverished guy! Wanna get out of debt!? Just head on over to Facebook or Coinbase and create an account. Of course, you’ll have to wait a few weeks to a month for your passport photo to be …. what’s that? You don’t have a passport? Well, I’m sure that’s okay, just present some proof of resi … how’s that? You’re homeless? Oh. Well, not to worry. If you figure out how to pass the KYC/AML requirements, pretty soon you’ll be able to do business online, and send and receive crypto! Bye!”

A cheap smartphone and an internet connection. This is all that is currently needed to make and receive crypto through free trade. Private, P2P platforms like Local.bitcoin.com help make this possible. Introduce a little government, however, and everything becomes cumbersome, violent, and vexingly inconvenient and inhuman. Agorism says if it’s non-violent, trade it freely.

The Desperate IRS

Speaking of poor people, the IRS is understaffed and overworked. Currently flailing to finagle whatever paltry satoshi dust they can out of America’s pockets, over 46,000 of the agency’s employees were forced to work for free during the last government shutdown. Some of them got discouraged and decided not to go back to work at all. The agency has turned to fear-mongering letter campaigns and automation, sending out a series of AI-generated notices relating to supposed non-payment of crypto taxes. They’ve also sent out over 400,000 notices since February, 2018 about failure to report income which could result in the loss of one’s passport. Financial inclusion never sounded less inclusive.

Government Through the Lens of Agorism

“Free people don’t ask for permission.” The commonly repeated agorist bromide deserves fresh attention. In most people’s daily lives, it would be absurd to ask someone else for permission to do things like drive into town, go out for a pizza, or help a friend fix his car. Without payment to a small group of people calling themselves government, though, each of these activities can turn deadly.

When state agents force someone to halt and find they don’t have that special piece of plastic for driving, they can be kidnapped. Those who try to provide a service — say starting a pizza shop — are also not immune. Without the proper building permits and food service licenses (also costing a pretty penny, of course) an entrepreneur will be shut down, fined, and thrown in a cage if they don’t pay. Potentially killed, if they physically resist the kidnapping. Those who try to help a friend with auto repair might also be criminals, thanks to the protection of the state. In Sacramento County, CA and elsewhere, this is already the reality.

No Victim, No Crime

When someone’s neighbor smokes cannabis in their home, they are not violating the body or property of anyone. Going a few miles over the speed limit is not violent, either. Nor is selling tacos outside of a sporting event to willing customers. Nor is collecting rainwater. Neither is drinking raw milk. Generating one’s own electricity and not selling a surplus back to a political jurisdiction called a city is not a violent crime. Nor is refusing to pay taxes.

Critics of the agorist approach rightly are concerned that there must be some means by which to establish order in any given society. Anarchists, agorists, and voluntaryists agree. The prescribed methods are different. Where the Maxine Waters, Steven Mnuchins, and Donald Trumps of the world demand submission to their violence-based class system, agorists maintain we are all equal under the biological, metaphysical, immutable reality of individual self-ownership.

Decentralized rules can be set up for any group of property owners anywhere, based on these principles. As such, asking self-styled gods called politicians for permission becomes a laughable prospect, if the risk of disobedience were not so real. Yet, for some, freedom is well worth it, open letters and legislative scribbles from psychopaths be damned.

Source: news.bitcoin

[coin-news-blog]

Agorism and Bitcoin: Free People Don’t Ask Maxine Waters for Permission

New Post has been published on https://coinmakers.tech/news/agorism-and-bitcoin-free-people-don-t-ask-maxine-waters-for-permission

Agorism and Bitcoin: Free People Don’t Ask Maxine Waters for Permission

Agorism and Bitcoin: Free People Don’t Ask Maxine Waters for Permission

Anti-agorism Congressional Representative Maxine Waters still has misgivings about Facebook’s proposed Libra digital currency, even after meeting with Swiss government officials to discuss the tech last week. The sustained reservations echo the message of July’s open letter from the House of Representatives to Facebook, calling for a halt on Libra’s ongoing development. While many view regulation and careful legislative feet-dragging a troublesome necessity for crypto mainstreaming, agorists, anarchists, and other free marketeers see a critical problem: the tech is already here, and how we use it in non-violence is nobody else’s damn business.

Intro to Agorism

Agorism is, quite simply, the free exchange of goods and services by individual, free market actors. News.bitcoin.com has previously reported on the philosophy, and this primer about Agorism and crypto is a good place to start for the agora-curious. Suffice to say that at its most basic form, agorism is the philosophy and practice of engaging in free market activity outside of the control or regulations of a state. Living one’s life in such a way, to such an extent as possible, that violent governments are ignored, counteracted, and rendered increasingly irrelevant. The word “agora” itself is a Greek term, meaning “open markets.” The hugely influential agorist activist, philosopher and author Samuel Edward Konkin III once said agorist counter-economics is:

The study or practice of all peaceful human action which is forbidden by the State.

The Problem With Regulation

One of the most misunderstood aspects of agorism, voluntaryism, and anarchism is the fact that chaotic violence and a lack of order are not what is being sought. Agorists want the same things any other sane person wants: better education, better healthcare, better opportunities, and more peace. What is being sought is logical order and voluntary interaction, governed not by sociopathic, economically inept politicians and religious beliefs like the “divine right to rule,” but by logic, science, and the natural reality of individual self-ownership. That is to say, each individual owns his or her own life and body, and by extension, the property legitimately acquired or created by that body and mind.

The regulation of cryptocurrencies by the state exists ostensibly to fight crime and terror. What is seen playing out in reality, however, is that the groups that are by far the largest financiers of terror and violence globally — governments — have labeled themselves “regulators,” and now stifle a technological revolution set to help free billions of people. Waters states, in her August, 25 official assessment of the meeting with Swiss officials:

While I appreciate the time that the Swiss government officials took to meet with us, my concerns remain with allowing a large tech company to create a privately controlled, alternative global currency. I look forward to continuing our Congressional delegation, examining these issues, money laundering, and other matters within the Committee’s jurisdiction.

It is interesting that the state Waters represents, the United States Federal Government, is the world’s leading money launderer, by most rational estimations. After all, what is the unlimited, systematic creation of debt for the benefit of an elite class, represented by pieces of paper and zeroes and ones in computers, but a gigantic scheme to launder financial power? Bitcoin presents a threat because these irresponsible economic practices are simply not possible within the protocol itself.

The United States Federal Government spends over $1.25 trillion on war, annually. There is an infestation of child porn users in the Pentagon and at NASA. The IRS pays people to spy on hardworking Americans, organizing letter threat campaigns to scare even law-abiding citizens into paying money they don’t owe. And these are the regulators “concerned” with crime?

The Biggest Roadblock for Inclusion of the Poor Is Government Regulation

Financial inclusion is a big buzz-phrase these days, especially with influential, mainstream-friendly projects like Libra. It sounds nice. Include the previously disconnected, unbanked, and impoverished in the exciting new “crypto revolution” where blockchain saves us all, ends world hunger, and wipes our asses for us on the way out. There’s just one problem: there’s no need for centralized regulators – only individual human action.

“Hey there, impoverished guy! Wanna get out of debt!? Just head on over to Facebook or Coinbase and create an account. Of course, you’ll have to wait a few weeks to a month for your passport photo to be …. what’s that? You don’t have a passport? Well, I’m sure that’s okay, just present some proof of resi … how’s that? You’re homeless? Oh. Well, not to worry. If you figure out how to pass the KYC/AML requirements, pretty soon you’ll be able to do business online, and send and receive crypto! Bye!”

A cheap smartphone and an internet connection. This is all that is currently needed to make and receive crypto through free trade. Private, P2P platforms like Local.bitcoin.com help make this possible. Introduce a little government, however, and everything becomes cumbersome, violent, and vexingly inconvenient and inhuman. Agorism says if it’s non-violent, trade it freely.

The Desperate IRS

Speaking of poor people, the IRS is understaffed and overworked. Currently flailing to finagle whatever paltry satoshi dust they can out of America’s pockets, over 46,000 of the agency’s employees were forced to work for free during the last government shutdown. Some of them got discouraged and decided not to go back to work at all. The agency has turned to fear-mongering letter campaigns and automation, sending out a series of AI-generated notices relating to supposed non-payment of crypto taxes. They’ve also sent out over 400,000 notices since February, 2018 about failure to report income which could result in the loss of one’s passport. Financial inclusion never sounded less inclusive.

Government Through the Lens of Agorism

“Free people don’t ask for permission.” The commonly repeated agorist bromide deserves fresh attention. In most people’s daily lives, it would be absurd to ask someone else for permission to do things like drive into town, go out for a pizza, or help a friend fix his car. Without payment to a small group of people calling themselves government, though, each of these activities can turn deadly.

When state agents force someone to halt and find they don’t have that special piece of plastic for driving, they can be kidnapped. Those who try to provide a service — say starting a pizza shop — are also not immune. Without the proper building permits and food service licenses (also costing a pretty penny, of course) an entrepreneur will be shut down, fined, and thrown in a cage if they don’t pay. Potentially killed, if they physically resist the kidnapping. Those who try to help a friend with auto repair might also be criminals, thanks to the protection of the state. In Sacramento County, CA and elsewhere, this is already the reality.

No Victim, No Crime

When someone’s neighbor smokes cannabis in their home, they are not violating the body or property of anyone. Going a few miles over the speed limit is not violent, either. Nor is selling tacos outside of a sporting event to willing customers. Nor is collecting rainwater. Neither is drinking raw milk. Generating one’s own electricity and not selling a surplus back to a political jurisdiction called a city is not a violent crime. Nor is refusing to pay taxes.

Critics of the agorist approach rightly are concerned that there must be some means by which to establish order in any given society. Anarchists, agorists, and voluntaryists agree. The prescribed methods are different. Where the Maxine Waters, Steven Mnuchins, and Donald Trumps of the world demand submission to their violence-based class system, agorists maintain we are all equal under the biological, metaphysical, immutable reality of individual self-ownership.

Decentralized rules can be set up for any group of property owners anywhere, based on these principles. As such, asking self-styled gods called politicians for permission becomes a laughable prospect, if the risk of disobedience were not so real. Yet, for some, freedom is well worth it, open letters and legislative scribbles from psychopaths be damned.

Source: news.bitcoin