#People who need image descriptions I hope you appreciate my shade at myself

[ava-does-dumbassery]

It is done!

A lot of our knowledge of ancient Egyptian gods comes from spells, which sometimes record narratives or pieces of narratives as historiolas, but a lot of the time just give us lists of gods that it’s kinda hard to infer a personality from. Which is why I thought it would be fun to go through some collections of spells and track how many times certain gods are invoked alongside another certain gods, and to see if those patterns could say anything about that god’s relationships to other gods from. Because my autism compels me to make bar graphs, and it especially compels me to make bar graphs that I can use to make headcanons about my blorbos.

What counts as gods being invoked or referenced together is kinda subjective sometimes, but it’s the general patterns that are important with this so not counting some things that maybe should have been counted is probably fine. I thought I’d do Set first for this, because I think his position in the pantheon is really interesting and also really seemingly contradictory at times.

What we’ve learned from these charts is that most of Set’s social life is just him muttering evilly in front of a brainstorming board that has “ways to murder Osiris Horus” written on it. (/joke)

For some gods I thought it would be interesting to track how many of the references implied a negative relationship between them and Set, so I kept track of how many references specifically implied a negative relationship (things like saying that god and Set acted in opposition to each other, or that Set wronged them in some way, or just that they don’t like each other) as well as just the total number of references. On my graph this reflected by having the number of those references be coloured red, and all the other references that were just neutral and didn’t imply anything (or sometimes very occasionally implied a positive relationship) are blue. The gods I did this with are Nephthys (because she’s his wife but it doesn’t seem like their marriage is that happy), Nut (because she’s his mother and the epithet “son of Nut” is used for him a lot), and Horus and Osiris (because I read somewhere that Horus is sometimes portrayed as working with Set, but that Osiris and Set are always portrayed as enemies, and I wanted to see if that was true or not). In the Greek Magical Papyri this also includes Helios because he was sometimes synchronized with Horus. So when gods other than those gods don’t have red parts on their bars, that doesn’t mean the text didn’t imply they don’t like Set, it just means I wasn’t counting it, but if a deity like Nephthys has an entirely blue bar that means there weren’t any negative references.

My copy of the Calendar of Lucky and Unlucky days is weird, in that a lot of the mentions of Set sound a lot more like they should be about Apophis. I can’t tell if that’s some weirdness with the text, since it’s supposed to be from the New Kingdom which I’m pretty sure is before a lot of Apophis’s traits started carrying over to Set, or if it’s some weirdness with this translation and they translated everything about Apophis as being about Set for some reason, or if it isn’t actually weird at all and I’m just thinking of this wrong. Like, there’s a part in it where it calls Set the son of Nun, and I can’t tell if that’s a misprint of Nut’s name, or if Set actually was sometimes called the son of Nun and I just don’t know that, or if that’s actually not Set at all and just Apophis committing identity theft.

Fun individual things I found while doing this: In the Pyramid Texts there’s a spell that implies Set drank Osiris’s blood, a spell in the Greek Magical Papyri has Nephthys show up riding a donkey, which I think is really cool, and a spell that’s in the Coffin Texts and the Book of the Dead says Horus and Set kissed on New Year’s Day one time. Also there’s a Coffin Texts spell that says Horus gained Set’s strength and used it even more than his own, which is the only reference I’ve seen to the events of the Kahun fragment so far outside of the actual Kahun fragment.

The Greek Magical Papyri has a lot of references to elements of Christian or Jewish religious elements alongside Ancient Greek and Egyptian religious elements, and it brings me great sadness they never showed up with Set because it would have been absolutely hilarious to get to put “Gabriel (the angel)” or “Jewish/Christian G-d” on my Set chart.

Doing this was really fun so I think I might do another god soon. Probably Anubis because he almost never shows up in any myths and I’ve heard a thousand different versions of who his parents are supposed to be.

[tfotababe]

Chosen by the land

DESCRIPTION:

I got the idea from my last post. Jude and Cardan being able to control the weather with their mood. I kind of went a little crazy with my imagination and somehow altered (almost) everything about the original story… I also kinda made this because the fact that if Jude stays in Faerie for maybe a few hundred years and somebody drags her to the mortal world she would turn to dust right away because time would run for her again. I doubt Cardan would let that happen or that she would let that happen but I just need reassurance 😔😖🤧

Faerie!Jude (Might turn into a series or maybe just a compilation of scenes in an alternate universe where Jude is born almost fully Fae.)

P.S. If you could tell me what you think/places where you think I could improve in -- maybe it's my grammar, my use of words, or anything at all -- I'd really appreciate it :)

P.S.S. Tell me if you spotted a YOUR THRONE reference ;>

SYNOPSIS:

Jude is resentful of being born a Faerie. She hates how they look at her and how they speak of her. For all that, she can’t seem to let go of the land that makes her livid.

TAGS:

Alternate universe - Jude is born only 1/4 human and the rest is Fae || Scenario || High  Queen Jude || Jude’s mom is half Fae || Romance || Maybe fluff in the future

Word count: 3, 272

Can also be read here (Canva) (Docs)

Ch. #1: A Mortal Fae (Next Ch. ->)

JUDE is staring at a reflection in the Lake of Masks. It’s another of ‘those’ days. Again, I hate myself. I hate my father for killing my mother and my mother for being stupid enough to anger a redcap. I hate that they were careless enough to let the situation get so out of hand that even as his anger has gone, as she was six feet under, their children are still affected by the phantom of what they did. Even now, fifteen years after, rumors still go around about a half-fae, half-human wife of a red cap trying to run away with a mortal man for the second time only to get slain.  But of course, it would be talked about. The scene took place at a revel. A mortal man, holding the hand of a five-year-old Faerie, the well-known wife of the High General, carrying a pair of twin two-year-old toddlers. Only a few Fae had seen the actual thing happen. Still, who lied to you and said that Fae were private creatures? They have mouths after all, why not put it to good use? Thus, word spread.

JUDE stood up and headed home. I took my time walking through the trees. I breathed in the early morning scent. Faeries are nocturnal creatures. Most of them are asleep. I should be asleep. I’m one of them, after all. No, Fae is in my blood, but other than my horns, all of me looks human. The curves in my body could probably attest to that. Round breast, a curve in my waist and hip, thick legs, and full arms. Faes have flat bodies. I have features that are seemingly appropriate in both worlds, yet I’m still just a piece of a puzzle that fits perfectly but makes the whole image abnormal. I look human, but without glamour, people would be sure to give me a look. I could pretend my horns are part of a costume, but humans are curious creatures. Even as part of a costume they would take interest in my horns. In Elfhame, my head is the only thing Fae. In either, I would be found to be bizarre, strange, peculiar, an unnatural oddball.

JUDE reached her destination. I headed straight to my room. Careful not to wake anyone. When I reach my room, I jump into bed without changing my clothes. I would have to wake up later anyway. I could just wash up then. Right, I’ll sleep now to relieve myself of the things that tire me, to wake up again later to face the things I wanted to relieve myself of.

JUDE was woken up by Tatterfell. I woke up just as the sun was saying farewell. The sky was tinted with shades of yellow, red, and orange. It looked like fire. Fire, I hope to feel before I sleep again later. "You should wash your face before the water goes cold." Tatterfell’s voice broke my train of thought.  I look at the small silver tub with a gold rim before dipping my hand in to test the water. The warm water felt nice. I must be really tired. I never thought that bathing or washing myself was a good thing. It felt more like a chore, time wasted. Had it not been for hygiene, I don’t think I would have done it. My mouth formed a small smile by itself at the thought. How amusing; I find my own thoughts laughable. I cup my hands to scoop the water and lean in closer to the small tub so as not to wet my dress. I dry my face and head to the bath that Tatterfell prepared. When I’m done, I get into a pleated rose beige-colored dress. It has a V-neck that, fortunately, shows little of my cleavage. It had bell-type sleeves. It was a simple dress. "Can you wrap my horns in some hair?" I asked Taterfell, who was currently hooking a pointed cincher around my waist. "So you assume that I can refuse?" Silence "Of course." I say, more steadily than I heard the voice in my head say it. "I can't, child. I have a debt to pay. " She says, finishing up the cinchers. Contrary to her tone, she ushered me softly toward the vanity and did as I had requested. 

JUDE and Taryn headed to Noggle’s class. Breakfast was good. The cook did a great job today. "The dress… It looks really good on you. You look fresh…" Taryn told me in a hushed voice. I looked over to her and saw that she was already looking at me. Our eyes met, and we burst into a fit of giggles. Really, it’s nice to have a person who can give such compliments. 

JUDE and Taryn arrived. Though we gained a few stares from the other Fae, we were lucky enough to not be faced by Cardan and his lackeys when we arrived. Anyway, getting watched like that was a normal thing for us. I saw a free place to lay our blanket. I pointed it to Taryn, then we started to fix our place to make it comfortable enough. "You two make even the dustiest corner seem extravagant with how unpleasantly basic you are." A proud voice carried through the air. Taryn put her hand over mine. "You're wrinkling the blanket." she whispered. My hand relaxed and my jaw felt lighter. I must have tensed up. I turn to face Cardan. I want to punch that smirk off his face. "Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment. " I can’t help the smile that crawls over my face when I see their expressions turn into scowls. Valerian looked especially bitter. I felt the need to keep talking. "Our being basic, differing from the place must mean we look unique. You must be really forgettable if you can’t stand out in plain surroundings." I tease, fake pity evident in my voice. THUMP. I felt pain in my back, pressure on my wrists, and weight on my torso that wasn’t mine. Valerian tackled me and is currently on top of me. I saw a glimpse of the Fae around us. Most were smiling and leering. Some didn’t care. Cardan’s face is unreadable, Locke looked worried, Nicasia looked satisfied. Valerian… He was seething. "Valerian, Jude didn’t mean it!" Taryn said, urgency in her tone. "Cardan! Please stop him! Please, we’re sorry! " Taryn sounds like she isn’t breathing when she says that. Meanwhile, Valerian tries to land punches. I avoided the first, and by the second time, I was able to free myself. I pushed him off me with the left hand he let go of. "You dare consider yourself better than us!" He yelled, lips thinning with every word. My first blow landed straight on his nose. When my fist left his face, blood was dripping down. Before I could land another, Taryn had pulled me back with my arm. Cardan looked at me and said, "Valerian, stop that… '' He pauses, keeping his eyes on mine “Don’t dirty your hands. Let filth stay on the ground where it belongs." He didn’t smile when he said that; instead I heard the grit of his teeth. He must be displeased with my being able to make one of his minions bleed. I’m pleased. Only, since I have a talent for getting under their skin, I can’t help but fire back. "Filth? Dirt? I hope you remember most of me is Fae. Are you implying that you are dirt yourself Cardan? " He only looked at me longer, smiled, then told his group not to waste time on us anymore. Nicasia helped Valerian stand. “Mortal filth.” She scowled at us after Cardan turned his back. “Jude, you scraped your elbow.” She took out a piece of cloth from the basket and tore it into half. Using the smallest bit, she rubbed the blood off with light fingers. When there wasn't any more blood she used the other piece to wrap my right elbow. She said that it should do for a temporary fix. 

JUDE’s class took a break. They make their warped view of us too obvious. I sometimes wonder how much worse it would be if we had been fully human. If we had been able to get glamoured, needed salt for our food, or were unable to stop ourselves from dancing at revels… I could only imagine what they would do. From the corner of my eye, I could see Cardan standing up. Nicasia tries to follow him but he says something that makes her look at him with pleading eyes, which Vivi and most mortals might refer to as cute. I personally wouldn’t. She looks like she’s choking on a whole orange. She sits back down and Cardan turns. Our eyes met. He smiles. I suddenly have the urge to use the hand sign Vivi had taught me. She said it meant something very offending that many mortals fight when somebody shows it to them but I doubt he’d know what it means. “Here.” Taryn caught my attention again. I moved my body to face her. While I had been looking around us, letting my mind wander, my twin was setting up the food on the blanket. The pens, inkpots, and parchment are now replaced with the sandwiches, jars of water, and meat that had been packed for us. I smile at Taryn; our silent thank you to each other. I let my skin feel the coldness of the air but it might as well be his lingering gaze. Burning through my nape only to leave a cold crack.

CARDAN headed to the Lake of Masks. Hatred. Cardan felt hatred. Whether it was for Valerian or Jude, he didn’t know. Whom he referred to as dirt and filth he didn’t know either. All he knows is that it’s probably not Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. He hated that name as much as he couldn't get it out of his head. It repeats itself like a spell or a catchy song. He disliked that. He stops his pacing, kneeling in front of the lake instead. When he looked at the lake, rather than his face or any other Fae reflection, he saw her face. Her hazel eyes, her flowing brown hair. The face with the unnervingly dazzling features that appear in both his dreams and nightmares. Except he’d never seen this expression. She had tears in her eyes. Tears that, no matter what he did, he couldn’t prize out. Paired with a look of anger. Angrier than he had ever seen her. After just a few moments, she took a deep breath then as if they had been sea foam, her tears were gone, though they didn’t even fall, her anger left no trace, as though she had never felt it. Next thing he knew, she stood up and left. Just like that. Suddenly, his clothes felt too taut against his skin. Even after he wet his face with the water from the lake, the air still felt hot. He didn’t think he could go back to the lesson. It bored him stupid anyway. Besides, maybe, just maybe, he might not be able to stop himself if he sees her. And so, the cruel prince left the lake, looking agitated.

JUDE and Taryn’s class finished. Surprisingly, Valerian didn’t do anything more. He didn’t even so much as glare in our direction. He just left with Nicasia and Locke. If I hadn’t known better, I would be relieved. However, only a dunce-like creature would assume sudden quietness from an enemy is good. After all, silence weighs heavier than a thousand words. We walked through the woods in silence. Glancing at each other occasionally.  We’re identical only in our faces. Taryn was more similar to a Faerie with pointed ears and a body only slightly curved at her bust and bum. While the only thing Faerie that I have are my horns. Horns that even without, Taryn still looks a full Fae. Really. Taryn was meant to be born a folk. 

TARYN wondered what her twin was thinking. Jude had always been the rebellious twin. Taryn thought. Still, she hoped that Jude would stop putting her neck on the line. Jude was strong, of course she was. She took their father’s training more seriously than Taryn ever did. Except, even Faeries die if they clash with knives or fists. What more a mortal Fae? Looking at Jude, Taryn took notice of the differences that they had; her round ears and full body. Jude, more akin to humans, still felt more like a Faerie than she did. Sure, Taryn fit in, but only with her features and because she did what the Faeries who hated them told her to. Taryn knew that even if Jude had been fully mortal, she could still turn herself into something that fit into Elfhame. Jude didn’t need to be Fae to fit in because Jude could be poisoned and she’d come back to life, she could be dipped in heat and only come back stronger, she could be tossed into an unfamiliar place and she’d just make that place hers. Taryn���s mind was filled with compliments and astonishment for Jude. She felt small beside Jude. She didn’t like that. What was so different about them? They had the same face. They were both trained by Madoc. Sure, Taryn didn’t pay much attention, but it was because she was a woman. She could just marry a great man. Taryn was strong by herself too. After all, she was able to pull Jude by her arm a while ago. Taryn stopped looking at Jude. She looked straight in front of her instead. She worried if she looked for longer, the disgusting feeling eating at her would take over.

JUDE and Taryn arrived at Madocs estate. When we arrived, an imp told us that Madoc had called us to dine in a few hours. I told Taryn that I would be getting ready in my room. She nodded my way without looking at me. I decided not to take much notice of this. She might have something on her mind that she doesn’t want to share. That’s all right. I headed to my room and opened the windows to let the cold night air in. I felt it in my face and on my now bare arms. When I entered the room, I hesitated not for one second to remove my stuffy clothes. This is also when I notice that the neckline has ripped, that the center gore of my mortal underwear has been visible. It must have torn when Valerian launched himself on me. "The bath is ready." Tatterfell informed me while I removed the pinned hair from my horns. I smile at her through the vanity mirror, she only grunts in return. She turns back to tell me to hurry and get to the bath, then I’m alone again. As I sink into the water, I think back to why I felt hate towards my parents again. I remember a mortal film that Vivi showed us when we visited the mortal realm when we were fifteen and she was eighteen. The girl whom the story focuses on saw parents spending time with their child. Parents. It was something she didn’t have. Seeing something she lacked get enjoyed by another made her feel jealous. I closed my eyes and dipped my head in the water. I never thought I’d feel or even think the same. I kept my head underwater for as long as my lungs could go without air. I figured it wasn’t a long time, despite it not being a brief one either. I breathe in deeply a few times before relaxing against the bath. I hear a rustling just outside the door. I soon realized that I had left the window open. I curse myself while putting my clothes on. I grab the dagger on top of the small table. I creep to the door, making sure my footfalls stay as silent as possible. I push the door open, seizing the first figure that comes into view. Without thinking, I stabbed the opponent. My heart drops. It’s a stand-in. The real opponent is still in my room. I feel a kick at my side, toppling over to the ground, back first. I feel a familiar pain, the familiar pressure on my wrists, and the familiar weight on my torso. I see the moonlight reflecting on blonde strands; Valerian. He landed a punch on my face as I was processing the details. I try to move my arms only to find I can’t move my body. "You turn Elfhame into a dirty place. I’d like to kill you, but that would mean burying you somewhere in Elfhame." He looks up. I keep my expression as nonchalant as I can, though feeling the beating of my heart throughout my body. I’m afraid it would give away my facade. He stands up, a revolting smile plastered on his features. I’m able to move again. I push myself up onto my elbows. "Burn, you hideous mortal. Bring your vile ashes to your rotten world." I look at where his voice comes from right when he throws the candle in the stack of books. He smiles at me. He gives me a despicable look while walking over. The burning fire illuminating his face made his expression look something out of a nightmare. I almost froze yet again, but I was able to stand up just before he could grab me. "Still putting up a fight?" He says through gritted teeth. We go against each other for some time; throwing punches and trying to grab at each other. I land multiple punches to his face though it’s my kick that sends him toppling down. He scowls at me before pulling my leg. I feel the heat creep up my arms, I look to see my sleeves burning. I had landed just a few inches from the fire and my sleeves were caught. I tore them off and stomped on them. I look for Valerian and see him heading for the window. I go at him, ripping his grip from the windowsill. When I hear a thud I close the window. He’s going to be alright.

I look back into my room. It’s a mess; things scattered everywhere, broken pens that he swung my way, torn books, and fire burning through the wooden planks of the floor. I go to the door and yell for somebody to clean my room. While waiting, I took some soil from the ceramic urn vase on both sides of my bed. I put it over the fire to stop it from burning further. A bit of soil smudged on my wrist, only then did I realize that I had burned myself. I tear my other sleeve, it would look far too grotesque to have only one sleeve, to wrap it around my wrist. I don’t want to risk the burn getting worse. 

When the small imp, who told us about Madoc wanting us to dine, came into the room. I told her to tidy it up and left for Vivi’s deserted chambers with my change of clothes.

The room felt stifling but I couldn’t bring myself to open the window. I looked around and decided to sit down on her bed. I couldn’t help the sigh that comes out. When I said I wanted to feel fire before I slept, I really didn't mean it this way.

[justaz]

Saw your posy about your fic with the aliens that sound too similar to minions. I think you just gotta add details that pull it away from the first gut instinct to visualize a minion.

Like, are they humanoid or are they more reptile/bird like? Or a different mammal? Do they have sharp teeth? Do they have hair, fur, feathers, scales, something else or a combination? Are they a prey or predator species? This will affect things like the placement of the eyes at the front or sides of the head. These details add physical additions that minions don't have and help distance the race from those little guys.

We can also describe more of how their colouring is different as well to change our mental image. For example, are they varying shades of yellow? Are they yellow because it's a natural camouflage for the planet? Are they completely yellow or do they have a gradient from the limbs inward or a completely different coloured stomach? Are they yellow mainly due to mating reasons as yellow was the most attractive colour of this species causing most of the population to end up a shade of yellow over time. I mean so long as they aren't literally entirely one shade of yellow all over then it's less likely to be a minion.

Finally the additional clothes, technology, and societal norms will change our perception again. Like are they highly advanced or in the beginning stages of their technology. If its just figuring things out the clothes will likely be more hand made and simple if not simply woven together directly from the planet itself or taken off the back of an animal. If it's advanced go nuts, who knows what people wear in the future. And is it a highly modest society covering everything up or more accepting of their bodies with skimpy clothes or even none at all? Is it a cold planet, moderate, or a hot planet because that will also affect the styles of dress the aliens have. Literally so long as they aren't all wearing goggles and Jean overalls and sometimes lab coats (this is all I really remember the minions wearing) you'll once again make these aliens seem unique.

Anyways, point is you don't have to redesign your aliens for your fic, you just need to ask yourself a whole bunch of questions as to why they look the way they do and then describe them in your fic to the point that we get a better mental image of what your aliens look like to the point that we won't even think of anything else they could resemble. You don't need to go overboard and write 5 paragraphs in one go as soon as they show up in your story but you can add at least one of each of these categories to your initial description to start off and then as the story progresses you can weave in more details about the alien's world and specific characteristics of specific alien characters your main cast meet with to eventually add more depth tk your species overall.

In any case, sorry to dump literally all of this on you over a quick funny blurb about your situation, but I hope this helps. I just really love world building and character species creation and figured that you shouldn't have to give up the ones you have right now due to a tiny bit of common description. I hope to read your story soon, anyway, and wish you good luck with your writing!

omg HAHA thank you, i appreciate this and will definitely consult this on any world building i have to do in future writing but in the context of what i was writing, it was a short passage of the characters passing a few aliens that rlly didn’t play a role in the scene AND the character i was focusing on was kinda panicked and didn’t rlly give a shit about who was around so it was a super vague description

i am kinda proud of myself bc i DID think of a few of these questions on my own. they live in the desert part of the planet so their coloring was for camouflage (and i edited it to add that they vary in shade, from dark brown to pale yellow) and i did give them lightweight robes, not unlike what you see people wearing in like the middle east. i did add extra arms and modified their noses to a kind of flap that opens and closes on command over just a couple holes in their face so their “noses” don’t protrude and solid black eyes

hopefully that gets rid of the minion visual LMAO

[mistaeq]

Caught in his fangs, freed in his claws.

Chapter 11.

CHAPTER 1 HERE

TW // blood will be implied, kinda non-con relationship, vampires, werewolves, spooky things.

DISCLAIMER! EVERY IMAGE IN THIS FIC IS EDITED BY ME AND MATCHES THE DESCRIPTIONS IN THE FANFIC.♡ Feedback and interactions are appreciated !!

Lord Higashikata x neutral!reader / Butler Nijimura x neutral!reader [depends on your choices <3]

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

Last question was: As you looked at him struggling, you knew there was only a thing to do. You would have...

a) ...helped him to stand up. You couldn't look at someone struggling without helping.

b) ...been careful and waited for him to stand up, to see if he was really harmless.

IF YOU CHOSE ANSWER A: As you looked at him struggling, you knew there was only a thing to do. You would have helped him to stand up. You couldn't look at someone struggling without helping. So, you slowly approached the groaning guy, as he kept on failing in standing up. Had someone thrown him out of the room at the end of the corridor? Was he Higashikata Josuke? No way, nobody would have ever thrown the Count out of a room, it was probably the contrary. Either way, he had to be helped. You stepped right in front of him, as he froze, probably hearing you. But didn't pull up his head. You were sure you heard him... sniffing?

You lowered yourself on your knees, and gently grabbed his shoulders, to help him stand up. But, unexpectedly, he pulled back, and almost... barked? What kinda creature had you bumped into? Is this a person? A wolf? A... werewolf? All you knew, was that in front of you, a grey skinned, angry guy with golden, shining fangs was growling or something. Taking a better look at his face, he wasn't ugly at all. His eyes had something, something not human, a longer pupil on the vertical poles, rounded by a blue, shaded hue. "I apologize, I didn't mean to scare you", you said, bringing both your hands on your heart, symbolizing your honesty. "I'm Y/n L/n. Lord Higashikata's future spouse..."

IF YOU CHOSE ANSWER B: As you looked at him struggling, you knew there was only a thing to do. You would have been careful and waited for him to stand up, to see if he was really harmless. So, you stood there, carefully staring at the groaning guy, as he kept on failing in standing up. Had someone thrown him out of the room at the end of the corridor? Was he Higashikata Josuke? No way, nobody would have ever thrown the Count out of a room, it was probably the contrary. Either way, you had to be careful about him. He started crawling right towards you, as he suddenly froze, probably hearing you trembling at the sight. But didn't pull up his head. You were sure you heard him... sniffing?

You lowered yourself on your knees, and gently tapped on his head, to see if he would have let out any reaction. And, unexpectedly, he leaned into your touch, and softly... barked? What kinda creature had you bumped into? Is this a person? A wolf? A... werewolf? All you knew, was that in front of you, a grey skinned, weird guy with golden, shining fangs was being petted by you or something. Taking a better look at his face, he wasn't ugly at all. His eyes had something, something not human, a longer pupil on the vertical poles, rounded by a blue, shaded hue. "I guess this doesn't mean anything dangerous", you said, pulling your hand back and slightly smiling. "I'm Y/n L/n. Lord Higashikata's future spouse..."

You saw his eyes grow darker and and darker after every second you told him so. Sure, sure thing, he thought. Obviously the first virgin betrothed of Lord Higashikata had to be this... handsome/pretty/beautiful. "Y/n L/n..." he repeated. "We've been waiting for you. Josuke can't wait to see you, master/mistress." the boy slightly bowed with his head, standing up to bow to you properly. "I apologize profusely for what you just had to witness. Nijimura Okuyasu, at your service." You felt your cheeks burn up, at the sight of someone bowing in front of you. He must have been the Count's servant, or maybe the butler.

"Please... please, just call me Y/n..." you begged, pushing his shoulder a little for him to stand back up straight. "I grew up in a broke family, despite my noble title. We had no servants, nor butlers. I've never been anyone's master/mistress. And I won't be yours."

"Hm?" Okuyasu's eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow, standing back up straight. You weren't gonna order him around? "What do you meant you won't be my master/mistress? You don't want to... instantly get a drink? Be carried to Josuke's room? You won't take off your coat and shove it in my arms for me to take care of it?" Well, this was pretty new to the butler. Lord Higashikata's previous partners used to treat him like a slave since the very start, so not being ordered around by you was a surprise. He thought you could just be shy and that you would have started doing it after some days, anyway. Still, you were the most beautiful one, out of all the people the Count had bought so far. Nobody had ever looked at Nijimura without saying he looked like a monster. You shook your head.

"No, I won't. Plus, it's a little cold in here, I'd rather keep my coat on for now." you crossed your arms on yourself, to warm up your torso. You rocked back and forth on your tiptoes a little, as an awkward silence fell between the two of you. Until... he sniffed again.

"You have a great scent..." his raspy voice said, as he got closer. Really closer. Okuyasu's face was almost in the crook of your neck, as he kept on smelling your scent, and his grip on your arm as he did so, tightened. "You're really perfect, Mister/Lady L/n..." he murmured, just until you pushed a hand on his chest, trying to get him a little further from you. Compliments were appreciated, but this was running out of hand...

"Mr. Nijimura..." you whispered, to push him away without anyone to hear, so that he wouldn't have gotten into trouble. "Hey... excuse me..." you murmured, blushing and staring at his hypnotized expression, pushing against him in a way which made him stumble on his own feet.

All of a sudden, his eyes widened back, and he hid his face by turning around and showing you his back. "I'm sorry, m'lord/m'lady." Okuyasu heavily huffed, and his voice broke. "Nobody's ever been so kind to me in years... plus... tomorrow's a full moon night... and when they get close... I can't help but... I-I'm so sorry... this is an awful start..." he trembled, hoping you could understand. And you did. You understood he was probably a werewolf, and the more the days got closer to a full moon night, he had instincts getting stronger. He probably couldn't even fully control them. That was fine. He's fine.

"No need to ask for forgiveness, Nijimura." you smiled, and took a couple of steps towards him, making sure the poor butler was mentally stable. "If you wanna make up for this little inconvenience, though... would you be so kind to accompany me to the Count's room?" he stopped his trembling, and turned his head towards you, smiling. You had the occasion to look at his features a little more. His face was really angular and slightly bony, but so clean at the same time. Not a pimple, not an imperfection nor a single scar. You wondered how old was he, but considering werewolf don't live eternally like vampires do, he was probably in his genuine early twenties.

"I'd be honored to." Okuyasu said, knocking at the room's door, which was exactly behind him. "I got thrown back in the corridor because I brought my Lord the wrong blood glass. It's not like I'm a submersible or something, so when the cook's not in the kitchen, I have to choose the correct blood myself."

"A submersible...? You maybe mean a... sommelier?" he considered your correction, with the most confused expression ever. You giggled, trying to make up an excuse to hide the amount of goosebumps the thought of someone drinking human blood had given you.

"Yeah, right! I meant that one." he exclaimed, knocking at the door again, but louder. He was the only one who could afford doing something like that without being killed, someway. Everyone was afraid of the Count, and he was, too. Higashikata had just understood that his butler had some issues with being quiet. Still, he was a good butler. No point in firing him or better, killing him.

"You better have a good reason to knock back at my room after you messed my order up." you felt your legs grow weaker. Was that your future husband's voice, coming from the inside of the room? The old man? But... it sounded so young and soft. Maybe... being a vampire, his appearance stayed young and fresh.

"Is your betrothed enough of a good reason, milord?" Nijimura asked, smiling at you, to probably reassure you about the fact that everything would have gone properly. But as you got closer and felt his hand on your shoulder, you noticed he was shaking. Bringing the Count's new "purchases" to his room was a job he never liked to do, on a basis. But this felt way different. He was gonna give to Lord Higashikata a 18 year old, a virgin, a pure soul. Who treated him well and respected him the best. He... "I'll stay in the room until he'll let me, Y/n. It'll all be okay." Okuyasu whispered so quietly you barely heard him. But you had heard him, and that warmed your heart.

"Come in." the warm voice of the one who was, effectively, the man you would have had to marry, invited you to get in his room. Luckily, as he promised, Okuyasu got in along with you, too. He probably wouldn't have left you alone with Lord Higashikata. Not yet, at least. Unless Josuke ordered so... he wouldn't have been able to disobey. You saw him... and your breath hitched. He wasn't old at all. He was so young, and his skin, apart from the paleness, was as smooth and clean as porcelain. He almost looked like a doll, sitting on his armchair as he stared at you and the butler entering his room. "Look at you..." he commented, his greedy eyes running over you. "Take a seat." a seat?

"There's no more seats..." you murmured, looking around the room to find something to sit on to not to upset him on your first meeting. It was better to start in a good way, if you would have had to spend your life with this man. But nothing looked like something to sit on.

"There is, if you're creative enough." Josuke grinned, staring as you understood and took a seat on his lap, not without thinking about it twice or more. His thighs were thick, and he had a pleasing scent all over him. You could tell he was a man who cared about his appearance and qualities. A man who knew was worth a lot for his beauty, but not too much for his soul. He never cared about his soul to be purified, though. "Good..." you felt his hand creeping up your back, caressing your waist. Then, his gaze moved back up. "Give me the glass I left on the windowsill and tell your new master/mistress how we do it here." At this words of his, your gaze ran towards Okuyasu, who slightly bowed with his head and walked to the windowsill.

"So... hope you slept at home, because you have many hours ahead of you before you can get back to sleep." how could you know you would have gotten to be married to a vampire? You would have slept back at home, it's known that vampires' day start at night. "Plus, I hope you'll get used to the food." The butler added, grabbing Josuke's half full glass from the windowsill. "Our chef does his best for it to be good for someone who's not used to bloody food at all. You'll get used to it, hopefully..." he grinned, then his eyes widened. "...Have you ever tried eating rabbits? Like... alive? I can even eat humans, on full moon nights... teehee..." Okuyasu hummed, as he licked on his golden fangs, his gaze not abandoning yours. His eyes had clearly something wrong right now. Something... way more animalistic? Not to mention, the velvet, crimson glove he had on a single hand was stretching, as if he wanted to do something with that hand. He was so lively, apart from the disgusting question, it made you nervously giggle.

The Count punched his armrest. "Shut it, Nijimura. You're scaring my slut." ...and Lord Higashikata didn't like your giggling, apparently. Slut, this is how he had called you? You didn't want to be his slut... he had called you a master/mistress, just like him, what was up with the slut thing? Obviously, you didn't really want to have the power to give orders to people like a true master/mistress, it was just... the contradiction. In response to Josuke's pissed off attitude, the butler gave out a smile.

"You always get all the fun away, m'lord." Okuyasu sweetly winked at you, before he left the wine - probably blood, since he had talked you about bringing the Count the wrong blood to drink - glass in Josuke's hand. "Also, I'm pleased to see that despite my drinking choice wasn't so accurate, you're gonna have it anyway. If, instead, you're not satisfied with my services and plan on throwing me out of your room some other times, allow me to suggest your highness drinking the blood directly from the victim like normal vampires do." What the actual fuck. Was he allowed to say such things, as a butler?

"Thank god, I have my future spouse on my lap and no will to stand up and kill you." the Count threatened, clenching his teeth.

As Nijimura huffed and gained his static position back, Lord Higashikata caressed your thigh once again, but all the time, you couldn't help, but feel uncomfortable. As if you knew that the same hands which were caressing you, had killed many other people before you, but everyone kept on claiming you were, someway, different. That he wouldn't have killed you. But you weren't so sure, about it. After he would have gotten your virginity away, you would have been a normal person. Why would he even consider marrying you, unless he wanted to have sex with you after marriage only. You had no clue. "Kiss me now, we're engaged, so you have to prove me your love." Which love did you have to prove, if you felt nothing towards him? What was this situation? What to do...

He was waiting for your kiss. Deep, red, and intense eyes were staring at you, and Okuyasu's presence made it even worse. But you couldn't waste any more time. You leaned in and...

a) ...kissed Josuke in an uncertain way, making unwillingly clear to him how uncomfortable you felt with it.

b) ...passionately kissed Josuke, using all of your acting talent, hoping he would believe your sudden behavior was true.

[talesofzero]

La Douleur Exquise - Ch. 4

AU; Chapter 4 - The Case of Violet

Shep’s chapter!!! This one tackles some weird ideas, so I hope the execution works. Let me know what you think!

~3k words

Everyone in the brothel said my skin was an odd color, but I didn’t see it that way. However it looked to them must have been similar to Desslar’s skin, but to me, Desslar was the same gray as everything else. He only gained color when he spoke - splashes of red, purple, and white. I’d never seen someone with such coloring.

Clients tended to have the same colors in their voices - greens usually meshed with the shades of red. When anyone spoke, the colors flooded their form and seeped into the air around them. 

Most of the other brothel workers had unique patterns, though. Susumu was beige and brown, Mamoru orange and yellow, Dick green and blue. Daiba was all reds, though some pink had mixed in lately. The new Tadashi was yellow and red and white and blue, and watching his voice was like a symphony. The old Tadashi, now dubbed Monono, tended toward a baby blue. Manabu had an odd mottling of blue and black that always made me anxious.

Zero had the same coloring after things went wrong.

So had Harlock. They’d both stayed that way for weeks before any trace of their old colors returned, but even now the old colors were faint. Harlock’s voice almost never exuded the loud yellows it did when I first met him.

He was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. The first thing I could remember. His attempt to speak with me was gibberish to my ears. The words were foreign, but the colors that came along with them were familiar. I felt like I knew those swirls, somewhere once far away.

Harlock, though I knew nothing about him at the time, helped me sit up, and I found myself lying on a bed in an extravagant room. There was another man nearby fiddling with something. The two spoke a brief conversation before Harlock took hold of my hand and tried to talk to me once more. I found myself more interested in his hand grasping mine. Though my hand was bandaged, something about the sensation made my head roar with familiarity.

It was then I noted my other hand bandaged as well, restrictive cloth winding up my arm and across my bare chest. Reaching up, I found it on my face and forehead as well. I must have been a mess.

The other man walked over and fit an object, the one he’d been fiddling with, into my ear. When he spoke, the words formed meaning.

“Let’s try that. Can you understand me?” His voice was mostly brown broken by pools of dark blue, different from the reds that appeared when he spoke to Harlock.

For some reason, I knew I was unable to respond aloud, so rather than open my mouth, I nodded. It felt like the appropriate response, a form of confirmation.

“Can you speak?” he asked.

This time I shook my head.

“This is going to be a little difficult then,” Harlock said, a curious mix of orange, yellow, and purple. “My name is Harlock. This is Zero.” He gestured to the other man, who nodded. “Your ship transported here, so damaged it was basically scrap. We weren’t able to salvage much from it, and you were pretty badly injured.”

“I don’t know anything about a race with gold blood,” Zero said, “but with how much you lost, I’m amazed you’re still alive.”

My head listed to the side. It seemed we were of different races, not just different languages. 

“We’re humans, if you didn’t know,” Harlock offered. “Our blood is red, so we were pretty startled when we saw you like that and didn’t have a transfusion available. Luckily we have a sexaroid who was able to make enough sense of your anatomy to hold you together. Your wounds were largely superficial, likely caused by shrapnel. Whatever you had a fight with, you probably lost.”

“He did come out alive, so that’s something,” Zero said.

Another human knocked and entered the room with more bandages in hand. I later learned that humans could identify themselves in varying ways, and this one expressed “woman” rather than “man.” The variation in the translator took me by surprise at first, but I grew to a base understanding over time. Humans had a variety of identities. All the same but all different.

“Oh, he’s awake,” she said in flashes of yellow and orange as she pushed the tray into Zero’s hands. “How are you feeling?” she asked me.

I offered a smile in answer. Nothing hurt, so I felt content. Confused and lost but content.

“He can’t talk,” Harlock said.

“Have you tried giving him something to write on?” she asked. The two men looked at each other, and she rolled her eyes. “His race may not have a written language system, but it’s worth a shot.”

Perhaps women were the smarter variety of human. I was unsure, as I only met a few in my time at the brothel. She introduced herself as Kei and wrote it in some strange, flowing symbols on a square of what I later learned was paper. Harlock wrote his name as well, though the symbols were entirely different, several simple ones in a row. Zero wrote his name the same way, but his writing curved and flowed where Harlock’s drew to points.

When they handed the paper to me, I realized I didn’t know my name, but writing I could grasp. They peered at the paper with eager eyes as I sketched out a message. “I do not remember my name. I do not remember anything. Thank you for helping me.”

When I handed the paper back to them, they all frowned at it. Zero used some small device to scan it. His brows pinched as he looked at the device. “Whatever the language is, it’s not showing up in records. Decoding it may take some time.”

“It looks kind of like sheet music,” Kei said, tilting the paper and her head.

What followed was several hours of gesturing and doodling and yes or no questions, until I was finally able to convey my lack of memories to them. Zero suggested they turn me over to some sort of authority figure, but Harlock’s voice swirled with colors at the idea. “We don’t know who attacked him,” he said. “It’s not safe to turn him over to anyone right now.”

Zero’s voice dipped in hue. “Harlock, we know nothing about him. It’s possible…”

“You’re honestly going to look me in the eye and tell me you think he’s dangerous?”

I hoped they didn’t think that. I would never wish any harm to them or anyone else. Zero must have sensed that, as he sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, we can’t keep him at a brothel.”

“Sure we can,” Harlock said. “He can work here once he’s better.”

Zero’s eyes went wide. His whole body tensed.

Harlock threw his hands up. “Not as a whore! Just as a helper or something! Just so he can make some money!”

Despite Zero’s reservations and my own confusion of human customs, I became the new helper. They called me “Guitar Ship” for a while. Apparently my now-ruined craft looked like something called a guitar, but that was shortened to “Ship” almost instantly, and that was steadily slurred to “Shep,” which stuck.

But once I realized what the brothel business entailed, it became clear to me that I was better suited to being one of the whores than attempting to help cook or fix anything. More often than not, that resulted in a bigger mess.

Harlock did not approve of the idea one bit once I finally managed to explain my goal. “Shep, I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he said, though his voice became distressingly pink. “But it’s just… the anatomy… you don’t... it’s not…”

Before he could become more anxious, I offered my hand. “Hm, what is it?” he asked. Part of him seemed to understand, though, because he placed his hand in mine. I’d figured it out once the bandages came off, why a physical connection gave me such a rush. I knew what I could do.

I knew what Harlock wanted.

In a blink, the office around us became a bedroom I’d never seen, though it was all an illusion, like a dream - Harlock’s dream. Because I made the dream in the image of his views and desires, I saw color as he did. But I wasn’t part of what he wanted.

Harlock’s eye was wide with confusion and surprise as he spun to look around the room. His clothes had changed as well into some sort of odd pirate getup. 

“What is this?” he asked. “What’s going on? Shep?” But when he turned back, I was not myself. I was the person he desired. “Zero?” he choked.

“Relax, Harlock,” the Zero of his dreams said, placing his hand to Harlock’s cheek and leaning in close. “Isn’t this what you want?”

“No.” Harlock placed his hand to Zero’s chest. “This isn’t real. Enough, Shep.”

The dream shattered as Harlock came back to himself and tore his hand from mine.

Of all the times I wished I could speak, that was the greatest. I’d wanted to make Harlock happy, to give him what he wanted, but his shoulders were taut, his hand slapped over his mouth. Despite my intentions, I’d hurt him.

Harlock jolted as I fell to my knees in front of him. I had to apologize somehow. All I had were my actions, so I bowed my head. If he wished to hit me, I would take it.

Instead of a blow, Harlock breathed a laugh. I peered up to find him kneeling in front of me. His smile seemed forced, his eye worn, but his words weren’t far from their usual shades. “Sorry, you just startled me. Remember, our rule is absolute consent. I know it’s hard for you but you need some sort of affirmation before making a move on anyone. I don’t want...” He shook his head. “So you can manipulate people’s minds?”

I nodded. That description sounded crueler than I liked, but it wasn’t incorrect.

“I can understand how that would make you a good worker, but if you’re able to access clients’ ideals like that…” His gaze drifted toward the wall. “You might see some disturbing things. I wouldn’t want you to be under that kind of stress.”

I couldn’t understand why he was concerned for me. He should have been upset. He shouldn’t have been the one to apologize to me.

But that was just like him, always more worried about us than himself. Even after I was able to show him that I wouldn’t allow clients any dreams that broke the brothel’s rules, he checked up on me after every new client.

And after what happened to Zero, he sat by the locked door of Zero’s room for endless hours, murmuring apologies in that black and blue voice. Apologizing for something he couldn’t have predicted or controlled, just like with me.

But things got better. Colors returned. Daiba appeared with all his fires of red and Mamoru with his blinding oranges and yellows. Mamoru in-particular I could always see coming. He was always talking, so vibrant his color bled all over. It was infectious in a way.

“Shep,” he whined as he dropped into my lap where his brother had been not long before. “I lost most of my clients. Give me some of yours.”

I patted his cheek, uncertain what he was talking about. He didn’t seem too upset, so it must not have been a big deal.  

“What did you do?” Zero asked. “And who said you could come out of timeout?”

“I didn’t do anything. Some guy bought my brother exclusive, and he’s paying for all those clients I would have had, but now I’m going to have all this free time. I’m gonna be so bored!”

Manabu appeared as well, having tiptoed down the stairs when Zero wasn’t looking. He clambered over the back of the armchair Zero sat in, forcing Zero to scooch over and make enough room for Manabu to squeeze in next to him. “What?” Manabu cawed. “Susumu got a client to himself? Aw, I could have taken the client.”

With a worn smile, Zero ruffled Manabu’s hair. “Maybe next time. How about we have Monono make us some tea right now and just relax instead?”

Zero, Dick, and I had clients scheduled for Monday night, so this was our last chance to relax until then, but the reality was that Manabu could be soothed by horrible, bitter tea no matter how upset he got. Zero was just playing that to his advantage. He sent Tadashi to let Monono know of our request.

“So is Harlock going to be the one to let most of my clients know they can’t have their incest kink fulfilled anymore?” Mamoru asked. “Because I’m not dealing with that.”

A new voice with the same colors flashed from the entryway. “Can’t I have two seconds of being here without you saying something gross?” Kei called as she strode in. Her travel bag slid from her shoulder and hit the ground with a thunk. Whatever was in there sounded heavy.

“Kei, is that the equipment we sent you to get?” Zero asked, frowning at the bag. “Please be careful with it.”

“Don’t worry. I have it padded,” she said. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“Daiba got a brother,” Mamoru said.

“More brothers? Jeez, don’t we have enough?”

Tadashi popped back out of the kitchen with a bag of chips he was eating by the handful. “He’s makin’ the tea,” he said through his munching. “Who’s that?”

Kei stared at him for a stretch, a deep frown forming along her features. “Did Harlock pick out that maid outfit?” she asked at length. “It’s pretty cheap looking. We have to get him a different one.”

“I picked it out!” Tadashi squeaked. “It wasn’t cheap!”

Kei put her hands on her hips. “Well, it looks like a costume. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a better one.”

“Anyway,” Zero called over them. “Kei, this is our new maid Tadashi Daiba. Tadashi this is our other bodyguard, Kei Yuki.”

“Daiba and his brother have the same name?” Kei muttered. “Well, anyway, nice to meet you, Tadashi. I’m going to go put my stuff down and wash up. Don’t be gross while I’m gone, guys.”

She scooped up the bag and headed upstairs. She must have spotted Daiba on the way because the red of him barking spilled out from the upstairs hall.

Our tea arrived shortly, while Mamoru continued to whine, and Manabu lounged against Zero. Zero was the only one Harlock would allow Manabu to get close to to ensure no one got too handsy.

“My client should be here soon,” Zero said after he finished his tea. “I’m going to go ahead and get ready. You should too, Shep.”

I nodded as Mamoru and Manabu began pouting. I would have given them some of my clients if I could. I had no use for the money Harlock gave me. He said if I ever remembered where I came from I could use the funds to buy a new ship and return, but I was content with my home.

After stretching out my legs, half-asleep from Mamoru lying over them, I headed for the stairs. As I reached the base of them, Desslar turned the corner at the top. His expression was plain, his eyes straight ahead. We walked on opposite sides going opposite ways, but when he reached the same step as me, he paused.

“You’re not Gamilan, are you?” He sounded as though he already knew the answer, and his words were now far more red and purple tinged with black.

I shook my head. I wasn’t certain what I was, but I felt we weren’t the same.

“Strange,” he said. “I feel like we’ve met.” He continued down without another glance, so I ripped my eyes from him and hurried upstairs. Passing my room, I knocked at Susumu’s. 

“Coming,” came the muffled response through the door. We didn’t lock our doors unless we had clients, yet I heard the bolt snap out of place. I tried to keep myself from looking too anxious as he opened the door. “Oh, Shep.” He smiled, but his words were all wrong, all black and mottled with blue. I couldn’t help but let my expression twist with concern. Something was wrong.

“Did you come to check on me?” he asked. “Everything went fine, so don’t look all worried. He was pretty easy to take care of, honestly.”

But the colors were wrong. It was like an infection had spread to him, the same one that claimed Zero, Harlock, and Manabu, the one that made them stare off at nothing with heavy, worn eyes. I took Susumu’s face in my hands, trying to speak with my eyes, begging him to tell me what was wrong.

He simply looked confused. “Shep, it’s alright. Everything went fine. Don’t you have a client soon? You should get ready for them.”

I so desperately wished for a voice, but all I could do was press my forehead to his. “Shep,” he sighed, drowning in that horrible blackened blue. “I’m exclusive now. You’re not allowed to touch me.”

I had no proof, no voice, no understanding, so I let him go to take care of my client instead. No one else seemed to notice anything amiss. The next morning Susumu smiled and laughed along with the rest of us. But that hue remained in his voice, and when he thought no one was looking, I saw his gaze grow distant, glazed with pain as he lost himself in that horrible color.

I would not allow it to infect anyone else in my home, in my family. I would free them from it.

[maria-louisa]

Arjuna’s story Part one

This is the first part of Arjuna’s introduction, there is more to follow of course. Stay tuned for Arjuna’s story of how she became a vampire.

I believe introductions are needed, my name is Arjuna. I should give you some information about myself. I think I shall start with a description of my physique. Even if in my opinion it shouldn’t really matter what I look like for the reader to appreciate my story, still I’ve noticed that people like to be able to picture someone when hearing their story. I shall give a short description and hope it’ll paint enough of a picture. I’m a small woman, a petite build, something that was highly valued in my time. Unfortunately, my features weren’t soft and round or otherwise I would’ve perfectly fit the beauty standards of the time. I’ve always had a rather muscular athletic build, something very unfit for a lady of my standing. I posess the blonde hair typical for the people from my fatherland, it reaches my shoulders. My eyes however don’t have the flat sky blue color my countrymen often exhibit, they’re a deep green. Not the green of the vast and turbulent ocean I’ve become so well aquainted with but green of the forests of the far away country I was born in.

I wasn’t born as Arjuna. I was born as Maria Louisa van der Wit in 1734. in what was then known as the Dutch Indies. My father was a rich merchant appointed by the XVII lords as a representative of the Zeeland chambers of the VOC. He was stationed in Batavia with the rest of the governors. Because there were no unwed men to fill his position he had been allowed to bring his wife, my mother, with him to the indies. My French first name was handed down from me from her side of the family. It was there, in the distant orient, that I was born. After my birth my mother pleaded my father to let us return to the republic. She said the wild jungle was no place to raise a daughter, that my weak constitution wasn’t made to endure it. I believe however that wasn’t the real reason she wanted to leave, I feel that my mother knew that if we stayed she would lose me to the land. It was in my eyes, a wild spirit that came from the jungle. Mothers know that kind of thing about their children. My father was heartbroken but finally consented and let me and my mother return. She was the daughter of the old general of the Zeeland fleet and through letters he could arrange with her father that our old town house in Middelburg would be prepared for her return. I was two years old when everything was prepared for our sea voyage back home. While I was too young to actively remember Indonesia, it was always somewhere there, an impression, a mix of sounds and smells that lay at the very core, the very start of my existence. I do very clearly remember the ship, it was there that I spoke my first words and learned to walk. For two years my world was as small as the upper deck and as wide as the endless sea and sky. Returning to the Netherlands didn’t make my world bigger, in fact it made it feel smaller.

As a young girl in a wealthy family my life was supposed to be lived in my private chambers. To my mother’s despair being passive was something I had no talent for. Like any girl of my position I had a proper upbringing. I was taught how to read, play music and paint. Inside of me there was a hunger for the world, to learn it’s secrets. It was the kind of hunger that only grew if you fed it (al to comparable to a different kind of hunger I’ve got to know later in my life). I devoured any books I could get my hands on, not just the light reading that was thought suitable for girls. Books on science and anatomy, dangerous topics, I would steal from my father’s old library. The four walls that were supposed to be my world now couldn’t confine me though, more than books I craved to be outside. During my childhood, I’ve found countless ways to escape the courtyard behind our home. I got caught enough to drive my mother insane, but she doesn’t know that the majority of the time I wouldn’t get caught. My favorite escape was to get out of the city and roam the surrounding forests and countryside, despite how dangerous this was for a young girl alone. I avoided people if I was out there and studied nature, so those weren’t the occasions I got into trouble actually. I got into trouble when I would head to the canal and watch the ships passing through heading to Vlissingen. I loved to watch them glide by like enormous slow animals and I would remember a world made of two shades of greyish blue separated by a small horizontal line. In the port I couldn’t avoid people and the sailors weren’t exactly the right environment for an unaccompanied girl. It was often from there that the city guard would escort me home. Whenever I was returned to my mother like that: dishelved, out of breath, wild, she would never get angry with me. Rather she looked scared of me, scared of a wilderness inside of me that she would eventually lose me to. She had tried to avoid it removing me from the wilderness but she couldn’t remove it from within me. I could tell she felt alone in her worries about me. It must’ve been subject of the long letters she would write to my father back in the Orient and it must’ve been part of the reason of his eventual return. One evening we had guests over. I was always polite company and entertained them in conversation. The man visiting us was a colleague of my father and still without a wife. I didn’t realise the implication of his visit until later. I barely had any attention for the man that day, all my attention was with what he’d brought with him. My mother had mentioned my keen interest in nature and that I painted lovely botanical pieces. I did paint lovely botanical pieces but she made my scientific interest in studying nature sound like a girl who painted decorative pieces. This man however seemed to have understood the nature of my interest better than my own mother because he’d brought with him a rare edition of a book with prints of the collected work of the painter Maria Sybilla Merian. I was completely captivated by the implications bound in that one book laying heavy in my lap. A woman painter, who scientifically studied botany and travelled to our colony in Surinam alone to study the exotic specimen she’d find there. I vaguely recal that the man mentioned that if I were to travel to Indonesia with him I could study the specimen there and paint lovely pictures as well. I barely heard him, the images of exotic flowers stirred a deep buried memory in me. All he did was awaken in me the idea of traveling back to Java but in my mind he wasn’t there on the voyage with me. After that night I started asking my mother questions about the Indies but they unnerved her. She always responded that she tried to stay away from the wilderness and that thankfully her rooms in Batavia were quite sophisticated so that she could live almost the same as in the Netherlands except that it was dreadfully warm and she’d get fevers sometimes. The thing I longed to know more about she had been hiding from. My initial wanderlust and curiosity was now more clearly directed and focussed completely on the island where I was born.

[cipherpolfiles]

Incoming extra-long Follower Appreciation and reply post!

I may need to start doing these biweekly (in this case, every two weeks), truth to be told. The amount of attention this blog is getting is a lot more than I had anticipated.

First of all, I want to welcome all the new followers. I also want to thank the people who have been following this blog for quite a while, some of you have even been here from the very beginning, for all their support.

I’m going to take this chance to inform you that this blog has just reached the 252 followers (it’s 255 right now, but I don’t have the time to screencap it all over again). Never, not even in my wildest dreams, had I imagined I’d reach so many; in fact, I was expecting to reach 50 at the very most. Sadly, right now I have no time to host another raffle/giveaway to celebrate the 200 follower milestone, but once things have calmed down a bit and I’ve been able to finish all the prizes from the previous one, I’ll do some other thing for you, guys, maybe during summer.

On another note, those 5 drafts you see there include some essays/analyses: an analysis about Tamago, which is actually one of the prizes for the 100 follower milestone giveaway and I have permission from the person who requested it to wait until the current arc is done, so the analysis can be wrapped up properly. On Charlotte Pudding, about how Pudding was evil and lying throughout the entire arc - I was working on this when Oda unveiled the truth about her, so after that I just lost my drive to keep writing it and it’s kind of just sitting there -; an unnamed one about the giants we’ve seen so far and their connection to Norse culture and other sources - on which I’ve been working for quite a while before the entire prince Loki of Elbaf reveal, mind you -; Creating Impel Down, an essay on the (possible) sources used to create the great underwater prison and its dwellers and Family & Loyalty. Edward ’Whitebeard’ Newgate Vs. Charlotte ‘Big Mom’ Linlin, a comparison between Whitebeard’s and Big Mom’s differing views and postures regarding the concept of family.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. My eternal gratitude goes not only to my followers, but to everyone who has followed this blog or liked and/or reblogged any of its contents, your sweet comments and tags make all the effort well worth it! You’re all incredible, guys!

Now, let’s give an answer to all the tags and comments you’ve left on my posts during this last month, shall we?

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post & this other one:

Please, read the screenshot below because I’m not going to discuss this subject again (I’ll answer all the tags/comments I’ve gotten for it so far, but I won’t answer any new ones nor I’m going to talk about this subject ever again). It’s what’s written at the bottom of the post in the first link and the second one leads to that “other post of mine” that’s mentioned below.

I’m rather nonplused about the reception for this post, because people only seem to pay attention to those four dreadful words (Sanji has brown eyes) instead of the actual point of the post, which was the parallel/joke about Sanji being like Little Red Riding Hood. All that seemed to fly over nearly everyone’s heads despite it having two big images, a huge title and a sentence dedicated to it, plus a joking comment about just how gaudy the golden wristlets are.

@huevodandy Preach! (this is technically from another post related to this one, but I want everyone to see this).

@penumbrazxs​ That’s what we’ll all do, but you know, the manga purists are probably going to be bothering people over it, so better make it clear for everyone. We were talking about the manga cover on that post, so they’re brown. Manga = brown; anime = blue. Choose whatever you like most, people, just like with Law and Robin. I, myself, prefer them blue. Thanks for your input :)

@bee-kun I know, I know. I was surprised and confused as well.

@writesailingdreams Truer words were never spoken. Skin and eye colour diversity is certainly a job Toei does better than Oda. Also, don’t worry about it; they were mostly people who meant well. The problem is that when you receive loads of the same thing one after the other, it gets annoying. I must confess I like blue-eyed Robin better; she seems, don’t know, more myterious, more... alluring somehow. Not that there’s anything wrong with brown eyes nor saying that they can’t look mysterious and/or alluring, because they can be as hypnotising/mesmerising as any other hue.

@namibean Thanks for the reblog and your input. I must say I’d always pictured his eyes as blue, even before they started colouring them in the anime, so it was quite a shocker to see those brown eyes. Also, I laughed at the “cheese and rice” tag, I’d never heard that expression before. Thanks for teaching me something new, even if it wasn’t your intention :)

@lucy-heartflawless Go check the coloured manga if you want; I left a link to the officially coloured manga at Kissmanga on the first post linked on the title of this particular section (if you’re interested but can’t find it, just drop me a line), but I must tell you that I already checked the Punk Hazard incident and Nami!Sanji’s (Sanji in Nami’s body) eyes are still brownish.

@imadeablogforchitchat, @mellorine91, @torosiken, @sanjilovesbest, @roomshxmbles, @niyaow, @katsunenpiece I seriously nearly cried when I saw you guys were some of the very few people who had reblogged this post but hadn’t focused your (non-generic) tags on the eye colour comment. Thank you. Also, yes, it’s Little Red Riding Hood in Wonderland with some touches of Cinderella and I believe there are high chances of the “Ugly Duckling” (also Sanji) becoming a swan (I’m having a really hard time fighting off my need to write down the so very terrible pun I have in mind concerning this “Ugly Duckling” thing and Sanji’s use of honorifics). Sanji is like the protagonist of every fairy tale ever written, to be honest.

@kurakurapika Yo no he dicho nada de que no me guste la capa. Simplemente me hace gracia que Sanji se ajuste a prácticamente todos los protagonistas de cuentos de hadas: La Cenicienta, Caperucita Roja y sospecho que, antes de que acabe la saga, también El Patito Feo. Lo de los ojos, lo he comprobado en el manga oficial a color como dice ahí arriba y son marrones.

@nikotehfox I laughed at the nickname; I had come up with Little Red Riding Cook XD

@dustail I was shocked as well, to say the least. How dare he take blue-eyed ginger dino-man away from us. Luckily, the regular manga is black and white and the anime has blue-eyed Drake, so we still get to see the Drakey we all love XD

@sirenacalavera Bueno, para gustos están los colores :) Además, según mi incursión en el manga oficial a color, todos los Mugis tienen los ojos marrones (a excepción de Chopper, que no lo he mirado página a página por lo que no lo tengo claro y Brook, que ahora no tiene ojos y cuando los tenía los llevaba ocultos tras las gafas de sol a lo Lennon).

@theshittymarimo Yes, you’re right. I checked the official coloured manga and Sanji’s eyes are brown as well as the rest of the crew’s (exceptions being Chopper - I haven’t checked it page by page so not sure - and Brook - currently he has no eyes and before he always wore those shades of his -).

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@venomkid-64 That’s got to be one of the best descriptions of Oda I have seen XD

@iprincezzinuyoukai I concur, but who’s Anne? I don’t recall any characters with that name, except for what Ace’s name was going to be had he been a girl...

@gg-xx, @welcome-to-sanjis-shitty-kitchen, @eve-mura, @nicefandom, @katsunenpiece​ I know, right? Big Mom wasn’t even pissed at her, but at her twin Lola. Not saying it would have been ok to beat Chiffon had she done anything to piss Mama off, but you get what I mean. That said, I still find Big Mom’s character fascinating even though I hate her.

@writesailingdreams, @dixxymouri​ I’m curious about those mixed feelings on Capone.

@yeahnahmate Yes, please. They both need a long therapeutic chat about all the crap they’ve been through because of their respective families.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@wordsdear I’m laughing way too hard at this. Something to do with a Drag Queen contest they celebrate during the carnival of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, here in Spain and how they are all presented with the ‘title’ Drag + Name (e.g. Drag Sethlas, the controversial winner of the contest this year).

@katuen, @nicefandom, @adelyslikeop, @katsunenpiece I’m glad to know you guys like the post, find it interesting, think they’re good points and/or that it helped you notice new details about the manga. Thanks for taking the time to leave little comments among the tags :)

@jiofreed OMG, where do I even begin? I completely agree with you on the Sanji-Ichiji parallel; they seem to be similar yet opposites in many ways. Actually, I’m rather pissed at Sanji’s new backstory; I consider it mostly lazy writing what with the ‘magic‘ drug that only affects Sanji during a pregnancy of four and all. I don’t like the fact that he’s always been Saint Sanji and don’t get me wrong, because I absolutely LOVE Sanji, he’s easily one of the most humane characters in the entire series, that’s why I believe he deserved a less sci-fi, easy-way out bullshit backstory and a more realistic one, instead. The family dynamics and tension are great (not literally, but I hope you get what I mean), but the fact that Sanji is presented as white, pure, good whereas his brothers are completely black, immoral, evil just because of some nonsensical sci-fi crap explanation ruins it for me. I swear, if he pulls some “Sanji will awaken his genetically altered powers and the other three will suddenly be able to feel empathy and be good” crap, I’m going to murder someone. I would have rather had them all be different shades of grey; some leaning more towards a lighter shade and others towards a darker one. Either that or if he were still set on having ‘Saint Sanji’, Oda should have given Sora a separate pregnancy for him like he did with Reiju. Actually, Yonji seems to be the only one who is somewhat greyish to be honest. The way he acts when he’s with Ichiji and Niji is different from the way he acts when he’s with Reiju. Look who’s writing fanfiction now (I’ll probably lose a few followers because of it)  and I’m not even done but I’ll leave it here :)

@hanamatthiwone I completely agree with you; there’s something going on with the Vinsmokes. Something’s not adding up for the time being.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@upyan I never said anything about his design? In fact, criticism towards the character’s design is nowhere to be found within my post. That said, I LOVE his design.

@detectivebiggs98, @sanjilovesbest I love that corrupt Big Bird and the fact that the news are managed by birds too. This guy is like a reverse Lord Varys, only he uses his ‘little birds’ to spread info rather than to gather intel.

@chaosconleche No, no. Please, don’t apologise. Even if I do remember they’re called News Coo (I just wanted to write avian workforce to be honest), maybe some people didn’t. So thank you very much for your input.

@wordsdear I want Morgans to be yellow too or maybe white, but Oda will probably colour it hot pink or something like that.

@jorrmungandr My thoughts exactly when I read the chapter. Word by word.

@hanamatthiwone Add corrupt in there somewhere and you probably have a very accurate description of Morgans.

@meiye OMG, that tag. I nearly died of laughter. You just won the most amusing tag of the month.

@katuen, @moonwave55 It is incredible and fantastic. Birds everywhere, indeed.

@trash-with-pride  I like their designs as well. Also, fair maiden... You mean the who’s actually a procuress and has possibly dozens, hundreds, if not thousands of sex-slaves? Fair maiden, indeed. Bet Caesar contacted her to spend all of Big Mom’s money on women and wine.

@keropatch He’s more than likely “a piece of shit” like you so eloquently pointed out.

@fossilfinding, @eleventhhourranger Evil Big Bird for the win! I’m already loving this guy.

@overlord-flinx First of all, I don’t think you can compare the human-reindeer doctor of a small pirate crew to a corrupt bird who is literally in charge of spreading the news to the entire freaking world or half the world, at the very least. They’re certainly not on the same league influence-wise. Secondly, please show me where it says that’s the reason the Long Ring Long Land animals are so long. As far as I remember, and correct me if I’m wrong, Tonjit explained it was because they had a lot of space to grow longer and taller, not because it was boring. Lastly, it is well known that octopuses or octopodes are often cannibals, so Hachi making and selling takoyaki is not weird at all.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@luffy-of-spades Wish it were true, but somehow I seriously doubt it.

@wordsdear With what purpose exactly? I mean, how would that benefit either of them?

@katsunenpiece Not sure which one is the point you’re talking about, but thank you anyways :) Also, I’ve noticed you’ve become quite a regular on my posts as of late, which is good; it tells me I’m doing something right, so thank you for that as well.

@dyeblow “Ah, yeah. Well, whenever you notice something like that, a wizard did it.” - Xena (Lucy Lawless) The Simpsons. Seriously now, it was probably Daz.

@lunerblade1996 That’s one so very expensive umbrella then, even for the likes of Sir Crocodile XD

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@hanamatthiwone Well, even in colorspreads/covers/etc. we don’t really get to see the male characters’ eye colour because basically, until we met the Supernovae in Sabaody Arc, Oda didn’t even give them irises, I think (I can’t remember whether Enel had irises drawn as well or not).

@wordsdear That’s because Brook himself would have made a skull joke about it. Yohohohoho!

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@sagelynaive My thoughts exactly, nearly word for word too.

@wordsdear Nah, Luffy doesn’t have the patience nor the acting skills necessary to pose as the priest/minister/officiant.

@firstmateandcaptain I’m glad you like the idea and Luffy would probably hollow it from the inside... Let’s face it, he would eat the whole damn thing XD

@katsunenpiece & @useless-chan I’d love to see it happen, to be honest. It was the most absurd thing that popped up in my mind while I was reading the chapter. Now I need this to be canon XD Thanks for your respective inputs!

@huevodandy But wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose? I mean, Capone wants Luffy to create a distraction so no one pays attention to what he’s doing. If Luffy comes out from within Capone in front of everyone, that would drag Bege himself into the spotlight too.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@choconanime That’s what I’d like to know.

@katsunenpiece I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks this.

@niyaow I’m sorry to hear that blasted option caused you trouble. Tumblr should really get rid of it.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@torosiken Indeed, but not only the royal family, the clone soldiers are just as bad.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@fridoline I agree, it’s so very fitting for Niji.

@strawhatfamily Well, they’re all a bunch of douches, but they still make interesting characters. I’m loving the Vinsmokes so far. I think they’re good people? No. They’re intriguing nonetheless.

@phonenix Thanks, I’m glad you liked it!

(Well, this is technically from my last Follower Appreciation post (February 28 - March 1), but since there’s a comment referencing this post I’m going to include it here)

@malfunctioningkitten Thanks a lot for the follow! I’m glad you like the blog.

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post & this other one:

@detectivebiggs98, @niyaow, @katsunenpiece Turns out I was right about him being CC, after all. Also, thank you all for being regulars on my posts. It makes me happy to see I’m at least doing something right when people come back as often as you guys do.

@whatinthechickenballs It got even more interesting now, but yeah, I’m loving the whole Bege/Big Mom = Al Capone/Big Jim thing. Oda even included the poison bullets the real Capone had!

@huevodandy Looks like CC’s Alola form is called Gastino XD

Response to the people who left little tag comments on this post:

@bluegrasscountry Well... Someone should inform Trafalgar Law about the fact that he can’t be the crew’s captain and doctor at the same time, if that’s the case.

@niyaow Thanks a bunch for the info!

@writesailingdreams I was confused about this as well.

Response to all those who went on a faving spree &/or reblogged something from the One Piece Icon Project:

@greenleavesgreentea, @livinforluffy Thanks for the rebbloging spree and I’m glad you liked my icons enough to reblog them.

@askcp9kaku Thanks a bunch for the faving bout. I’m always glad to see people like the things I do :)

@askrosetto Thank you so much for the kind words and the faving spree. I really appreciate it and yes, it’s a conspiracy, I’m telling you. I didn’t even notice it looked like a chicken until I was getting the post ready to upload.

@askthelongnosedsniper Thanks for the reblog on the Usopp icon!

@huevodandy You’re more than welcome, my friend. Now, should I create a Pekoms to go with it? *ponders*

Response to the people who left comments and/or faved this post:

I’m sorry I’m getting back to you guys with this so late OTL

@niyaow Thank you so much!

@jiofreed ¡Muchas gracias! Por cierto, si te sientes más cómoda, puedes hablarme en español, no me importa.

Big thanks to @nicefandom, @huevodandy, @andrewtheamericandude, @lovablestories (aka writesailingdreams), @mad-phlegmatic & @nerentina.

Aaaaaand I think I’m done. God, that was some monster post right there!

As usual, if I forgot anyone it’s more than likely because I didn’t receive a notification about it.

[drink-n-watch]

This week plunged us right back, head first, into the story of an old god of destruction, the ghost of an evil man and fifteen year old Chuuya and Dazai chasing after them. Almost immediately, I prefered this episode to the last. And that’s saying something because I quite liked the last one.

Do you guys like my gif. I’ve been making them lately. Also – all the spoilers, if you haven’t seen the episode, it’ll be like you did after reading this!

oh why thank you…ok, so this review is going to be positive..I mean, you can’t buy me!

We open on a dizzyingly well animated action scene as Chuuya and Dazai have to deal with the armed welcome committee they encountered at the mansion. Of course I always knew that Chuuya has an extremely powerful gift, but I had never quite gotten my mind around all the potential applications. Seeing him fight multiple enemies with childish glee was impressive and mesmerizing. It gave me a new appreciation for just how cool gravity manipulation is.

  And a few minutes later, I got a whole new appreciation for just how terrifying Dazai is. There’s always been something uncomfortable about Dazai’s character. Bungou Stray Dogs tends to be bloodless and lighthearted in general so his personality has always been skimmed over or used for laughs but Dazai is not o.k…. Not at all. He pushes way past anti-hero into actual villain territory pretty often. I guess what Mori said last episode was true. Those two really are alike.

and we had started off so well…

About 5 minutes in and I was fully captivated. The visuals were stunning, the character developments riveting and the atmosphere somehow managed to be disturbing, ominous and yet cheerful all at once. Superimposing ll that violence over such a beautiful lush garden on a sunny afternoon. Good move.

I don’t remember exactly when it cut in, but we also got an OP for the first time this week. It was decent. I quite liked the song. The visuals were mostly stylized still images. No special but good.

Turns out the ability user they were visiting, and those armed guys were trying to take out, was none other than Rando. I had to look it up last week to find out it’s actually Arthur Rimbaud (french poet – good one – died quite young). There was something both sneering and incredibly fitting at watching the eternally cold Rimbaud dispassionately throwing books into his fire lace to keep warm. As a big fan of the poet, that scene resonated with me. I like to think that he would have enjoyed it.

is the state of the mansion a reference to how Rimbaud died in poverty? ohhh I made myself sad.

Basically this s what we know so far. 8 years ago, a god like creature named Arahabaki almost destroyed an entire city with an explosion of *black flame* then disappeared. In the past weeks, there have been sightings of those black flames again with the Port Mafia’s old boss at the center. Rimbaud was a witness at one of the last sightings.

Dazai is pretty sure the whole thing is an elaborate hoax. A simple chemical reaction can make ordinary flames look black and there are many ways to make people think they saw someone who isn’t there. Especially in stressful conditions. But who would be putting on this hoax.

As for the armed guys. They’re just a rival faction. Rimbaud’s new loyalty to Mori is helping calm down and unify the Port Mafia. If he were to suddenly be dispatched (especially in a see of black flames) that could spark mutiny in the ranks and greatly weaken the organisation. I dunno why I bothered writing about these guys. Chuuya already took care of them.

wait, you’re getting ahead here

  Dazai isn’t the least bit thrown off when Rimbaud tells him what what he saw was definitely not a hoax, but it wasn’t the od boss either. He describes his encounter with Arahabaki and is visibly still shaken by it.

At this point I was intrigued. BSD is very loose with it’s rules. There definitely could be a great old god out there. Heck, there could even be a vengeful mafia boss ghost. This should really not be playing in the show’s favour. Universes where everything’s possible tend to get boring, and flashbacks with characters we know have no long term stakes. Yet, I’m eating this up so far. It’s well paced and interesting. They manage to make this bonker story just convincingly enough for me to want to find out what happens next.

Well what does happen next is some comedy relief banter between Chuuya and Dazai. Chuuya has a running gag that he’s only 15 and is going to get taller. it’s cute. They also make some silly bet at an arced, because they’re kids. Whoever figures out who’s behind it all first, get to boss the other one round. It’s always hard to tell with Dazai, but I think he might actually like Chuuya.

oh Chuuya…so easy…

Some bad timing means that Chuuya has an unfortunate encounter with some Sheep members and gets himself thrown out for collaborating with the Port Mafia. One thing I noticed throughout the episode, is that everybody seems to know Chuuya. No one knows Dazai. I wonder why he’s so popular!

Usually when shows have genius characters that can figure/plan everything out, there’s a fair bit of contrivances and intuitive leaps going on. It’s very difficult to consistently write these archetypes in a satisfying way. Dazai is no exception. But this time it worked. Because it was very simple. That’s the key to making your mysteries impactful. keep them straightforward.

and to the point

Dazai is throwing Chuuya a party to celebrate his new freedom with Rimbaud as the only guest. Let’s face it, neither of these guys have many friends. While waiting for the guest of honor Dazai an Rimbaud chat a bit and the conversation falls n the bet. At this point Dazai reveals he’s won and he knows the culprit.

In traditional sitcom style, Dazai calmy points at Rimbaud as the traitor both men just pleasantly chat while Dazai explains. This is where I was expecting a flood of coincidences and hard to follow mental contortionist but no. Simple answers are the best answers. Rimbaud’s description of the events of the previous week insisted on him seeing the sea. Yet he would have been in the middle of the crater. The sea is clearly not visible from there. The scene he described, could only have taken place before the xplosion 8 years ago.

And speaking of explosions, Chuuya sure knows how to make an entrance.

congratulations, you’re guilty!

Seems Chuuya also figured out it was Rimbaud behind it all but how? He simply says that all the other witnesses described seeing the boss’ face while Rimbaud described the actual Arahabaki and is simply not possible….

The episode ends on a shocking reveal. The fact that there was something that Dazai had not anticipated! I know, jaw dropped!

right!!!

But you must be asking yourselves. What exactly aren’t you ready for Irina??? Well basically this felt like an ending. That season 2 opening arc I keep droning on about was adapted from a light novel rather than the manga proper. It was a side story meant to give Dazai a bit of background. Thi explains the shift in tone and pacing. It was riveting. A bit of research has revealed that the present episodes are also adapted from a light novel. It’s entirely possible that the last second reveal marked the end of this particular journey and that next episode will bring us back to the present.

And I’m not ready. Sure I would love to see the rest of the gang again but I still have so many questions. I can guess Rimbaud’s motivations. He was not quite as loyal to Mori as he seemed and considering Mori staged a coup, he’s made plenty of enemies. There’s no need to go into that much deeper but, what about Chuuya. His character is up in the air right now. Not to mention Dazai who is rather worryingly unhinged at this point. Why did Mori bring them together in the first place.

And beyond the questions, I’m still enjoying this more mature and severe story. It has consequences and a lot of questionable morality. I enjoy shades of grey. I’m not ready to say goodbye to the comedy duo of angsty teenage Dazai and Chuuya. I hope to see them again next week. Fingers crossed!

agreed

in the meantime, you can see them in the dozens of screencaps I took!

  Bungo Stray Dogs 3 -2 : I’m Not Ready This week plunged us right back, head first, into the story of an old god of destruction, the ghost of an evil man and fifteen year old Chuuya and Dazai chasing after them.

[thatsoundssobeautiful]

Forgotten history, forgotten legacy,

Facts of the past sure can influence our future

‘Fore they can face the truth, my people fades to black

Back against the wall, living in a world in war.

Ignorance the number one cause of death

Knowledge and faith the only wealth worth collecting

Culture saved from the shade, Black slaves finally free.

  This new video  not only introduces the first single from the Black Panther album, by Kendrick Lamar, SZA and The Weeknd, but showcases one the most beautiful visual artistry since Alright and LOVE from Kendrick.

This is most definitely a perfect way to picture Black History in this month of February.

  The clip contains a lot of symbols and follows a certain logic to express an impactful message.

Let’s get to the analysis.

  Ancient Egyptian Mythology

Black people raising their hands left with nothing but Faith,

The raising hands of a helpless and dying Black people.

Kendrick Lamar is arriving as Charon, the ferryman of the god of death Hades, who carries souls across the Styx, river to the hell.

This very first scene pictures what Kendrick calls the hell on earth when he came in South Africa by the time he was preparing To Pimp A Butterfly. 

“I don’t see Compton I see something much worse, the land of the landmines, the hell that’s on earth”. Complexion

“We all came on a boat looking for hope, all you can say is that you’re looking for dope

These days ain’t no compromise, your pain ain’t mines half the time […]  – Cape Town.” untitled 08

This image also exists in the Ancient Egyptian religion, with The Celestial Ferryman would navigate the soul through the winding waters of the Underworld.

Save the children

“This is for the kids” – Kendrick Lamar.

“Barefoot babies with no cares” Complexion

The visual continues with this idea of death as the faceof sad woman is shown above a group of kids attending royal funerals.

Red in South Africa refers to mourning, violence and sacrifices. Therefore all the kids wearing a red hat implies they’re either dead or mourning the death of their beloved friends and family.

Kendrick stands among these children, with the will to go and save them, empathetic, feeling their pain, wearing orange, which is also associated with mourning death in Egypt.

  Afrofuturism

“You can bring a bullet, bring a sword Bring a morgue, but you can’t bring the truth to me” All The Stars

Afrofuturism is no news to African-American recording artists.

Last year, we listened to this Joey Bada$$ song that sampled  Sun Ra (from: Space Is the Place, 1974), and its concept of Afrofuturism. The goal is to critique the present-day dilemmas of black people, and to revise, interrogate, and re-examine the historical events of the past.

That way, African intellectual (musicians, writers,..) use the codes of science fiction, technology, magic, historical fiction, as well as hints of Afrocentrism and the Egypt civilization, symbol of prosperity and royalty in the history of Africa.

The idea of space is really important too. That’s why you can hear Joey Bada$$ rapping “[he’s] just a black spade spawned out the nebula.” – GOOD MORNING AMERIKKKA.

From the same idea you can appreciate SZA singing the hook:

“‘Cause maybe the night and my dreams might let me know All the stars are closer, all the stars are closer, all the stars are closer”.

Dancing in the stars is also a way to feel closer with ancestors, enjoying the present, looking forward to the future with the memory of the past.

  Sapology

Société des ambianceurs et des personnes élégantes (SAPE).  Sapology is the movement from Congo Kinshasa and Congo Brazzaville in opposition to the Western fashion trends.

The Sapology movement owns its proper clothing identity and has been challenging Paris trends for over 100 years.

This is an original message of self-expression and self-affirmation to the White world.

To continue with this idea of standing for your ground, Kendrick states the following :

“I recognize you far as confidence and calculated promises all in your conversation […] Corrupted man’s heart with a gift That’s how you find out who you dealin’ with A small percentage, whom I’m building with I want the credit if I’m losing or I’m winning” – All The Stars

He’s clearly adressing himself to the capitalist Western society, just like he did in untitled:

(What the white man say?) A piece of mine’s That’s what the white man wanted when I rhyme Telling me that he selling me just for $10.99 If I go platinum from rapping, I do the company fine What if I compromise? He said it don’t even matter You make a million or more, you living better than average You losing your core following, gaining it all He put a price on my talent, I hit the bank and withdraw Hit the bank and withdraw, hit the bank and withdraw Put myself in the rocket ship and I shot for the stars Look at what you accomplished and what he said to the boy I’ma make you some promises that you just can’t ignore” – Untitled 3

  NEGUS, Black Royalty, Black Panther – Long Live The King.

Walking in a forest of dead trees, King Kendrick is on his Soul searching.

Wearing Black Panther clothes is not just a hint to the movie he is promoting, but is a fact that he’s retracing his forgotten Black history.

When he sang I (Love Myself), this wasn’t only for the people suffering from suicide tendencies, but this was also for the Black community and diaspora, too divided or not enough united. Recognizing our history and identity, acknowleging yourpast can help you moving forward.

Let’s notice that he’s wearing here a yellow hat, which stands for richness, and being aware of your inheritance is worth gold.

What is more, in Ancien Egypt, yellow would also mean eternity and immortality. Then having Kendrick is a wood of dead trees implies the idea that he and his people (the panthers) won’t die, but multiply and are still stepping.

“I promised Dave I’d never use the phrase “fuck nigga” He said, “Think about what you saying: ‘Fuck niggas’ No better than Samuel on Django No better than a white man with slave boats” Sound like I needed some soul searching My Pops gave me some game in real person Retraced my steps on what they never taught me Did my homework fast before government caught me So I’ma dedicate this one verse to Oprah On how the infamous, sensitive N-word control us So many artists gave her an explanation to hold us Well, this is my explanation straight from Ethiopia N-E-G-U-S definition: royalty; King royalty – wait listen N-E-G-U-S description: Black emperor, King, ruler, now let me finish The history books overlook the word and hide it America tried to make it to a house divided” – I (Love Myself)

  Suggestive color coding

SZA gets back with a shining and triumphant red in the background, before turning into pink.

Pink refers to the Carribean, with vivid colors of the wax and the vibrant dances which all suggest something more cheerful.

  From the joy and celebration we go to more quiet emotions with blue visuals. This color sets up some kind of peace, wisdom, purity.

More thn this, throughout to thie blue color, the video shows warriors (maybe a reference to Ethiopian warriors).

Shades of gold follow up these blue pictures.

The part of SZA is an actual celebration for life, and embraces to the fullest the African culture within our skin, our dances, our fashion…

  Closer to the African Civilisation, History and Spiritualities

Color coding

Sapology

Black Panther Movment

Les mains d’un peuple qui ne meurt pas, mais se multiplie

Kendrick Lamar, SZA – All The Stars (Meaning), Highlight of The African Civilization Forgotten history, forgotten legacy, Facts of the past sure can influence our future 'Fore they can face the truth, my people fades to black…