#Yes i am aware deserts do not have swamps

[marsafter-dark]

Vash has decided that, you know what actually fuck this. He is 150 years old and he is going to embrace his Shrek energy and live as a hermit in a swamp.

He has layers, you guys, like an onion.

Close up of the man himself

[evolutionsvoid]

As I have mentioned in a previous entry, the Underworld is not fully a place filled with fire and brimstone, but it does contain volcanic areas. Think of it as just another ecosystem that exists within an underground world. Just like how we have swamps, deserts and forests, they have fungal forests, geode canyons and lava rivers! So if you are visiting the Underworld in hopes of seeing some of this molten material, you are going to need a guide to direct you to the regions where it is prevalent! Be sure to bring plenty of heat protection and tough clothing, as these habitats are a bit harsh! Obviously the sheer heat is one factor, but all the rock that surrounds these places are quite sharp! Pretty much the whole habitat is made of igneous rock, and there is plenty of obsidian and other sharp stones to make the floor like razors! Honestly, I did most of my research and observing from a far distance away, practically sitting in the neighboring cavern and peeking through whatever tunnels offered a clear view. I am a bit sad my body cannot handle these places, because what glimpses I got were fascinating! Lava flowing like rivers of water, branching and winding through the rock beds! Great pools of magma the size of lakes, boiling and bubbling! Fire falls pouring over cliffs, creating a blinding spectacle found nowhere else! Quite incredible, but incredibly dangerous! I would be a pile of ash in seconds if I set root in such a place! In fact, I am pretty sure only demons and shades can truly dwell in these regions, save for any magic users who can create a resistance to the extreme heat. When it comes to these toasty places, the denizens of the Underworld have two different types of molten habitats: lava rivers and magma pools. Those who are savvy with the terms "lava" and "magma" are probably pretty heated with me seemingly using the two interchangeably. However, I must object! Though they may seem wrong to us up above, things are little different down below! Surface dwellers designate lava as the stuff that reaches the surface, while the magma remains down below. For a people who live entirely underground, those definitions don't really help. Instead, they differentiate the two through movement, or lack thereof. Lava is the molten stuff that flows, much like a river or stream. Magma sits where it is at and goes nowhere, like a lake or pond. Think of it like lentic and lotic systems for water, but magma is lentic and lava is lotic! I think I am explaining this right... Anyways! Despite the harsh heat and seemingly barren landscape, these molten regions can also be filled with life! If you know a thing or two about fungi, then you know they won't be stopped by mere heat! Many species of fungus grow here, with some looking quite similar to the ones found in volcanic deserts! Where fungus arises, other creatures will follow, using these mushrooms and molds as the foundation of the food web. Many of these species I refer to live upon the shores of these molten bodies, but what about within it? Turns out, there are indeed creatures that swim through the lava and magma, like the magnificent Pteramafic! These creatures are often jokingly called "lava fish" by us folk up above, but it seems this nickname for the Pteramafic may be fitting! Studies and dissections of these creatures have shown a lot of similarities to fish, mainly those who have no jaws. It is believed that these are some ancient fish species that long separated themselves from the water-lovers up above, and have settled in a hotter home. They have fins, bones and scales, but much of the details in their anatomy and make up is quite different. The most obvious difference is that they can swim through lava! Insane! I can't even begin to describe how specialized their bodies must be to pull off such a feat! The scales they have are tougher than metal, and their fins are arranged like claws to help pull them through thicker bits of magma. Their rostrums have greatly elongated to create a horn-like structure, which helps them slice through the boiling lava. Much like their jawless brethren, they possess no mandibles or likewise features. Instead, they are filter feeders, who strain the molten rock for some kind of mineral or nutrients that they can digest. With this diet, they must swim and burrow through the lava and magma to get their fill, which makes them appear as speedsters! It was quite a sight to watch these bizarre fish tear through the fiery streams, their beautiful dorsal fins looking like sails of some boat trapped in purgatory.  

With their homes made in the flowing lava and bubbling magma, the Pteramafic are obviously endearing to the people of the Underworld. Those who worship fire and believe it to be the source of their soul and life no doubt find some holiness in those who literally live in flame. The Pteramafic is seen as the messenger of Pyrogohna, being believed to be one of the few creatures who can actually swim down to the realm of the Gods Below. They relay information and knowledge from the upper layers down to the Goddess of Fire, filling her in on what her children up above are doing. It is believed that these fish are how Pyrogohna knows how to pace her dance, to ensure that the Underworld thrives. Thus, it is forbidden to bring harm to these creatures, as striking down a messenger of the Gods Below is surely one of the greatest sins. Though there is no hunting allowed of the Pteramafic, one may find their parts and pieces showing up in temples. I asked about this, after I saw a priest cloaked in the hide of a lava fish. While the people may not bring harm to these fish, they are allowed to harvest those that have already died. However, this collection can only be done by the priests of Pyrogohna, and the carcass must be brought to one of her temples. There it will be honored for its service, and then its body will be stripped for parts. Its hide and armor are fashioned into garb, its fins into banners and its horn into holy staffs and instruments. These items can only be held by honored members of the temple and Fire Dancers, and often they aren't even allowed to leave the premises. I got to see some of these crafts when Leyick took me to one of the worships, and they were gorgeous to behold! However, I was informed not to even go near these things, as they were meant only for the priests and preachers, and certainly not for outsiders. That turned out to be quite easy, as the hectic worship of Pyrogohna didn't really leave a whole lot of time for inspecting and studying. I was too busy getting pulled into dances and desperately trying not die of exhaustion. My adventures and studies have given me a body built with unstoppable endurance and incredible stamina, but it sure didn't seem like it that day! In my defense, it was a whole lot of dancing in a very hot room. You try doing a two hour country dance in a sauna and I am sure you will be just as winded as I! I must note that during my study of the Pteramafic I was musing about the culture significance of the Pteramafic. The fact that they were a holy species with such protection was fascinating to me, but then Vespar mentioned something that got me wondering. She made a comment that suggested that the Pteramafic was inedible for demons, shades and....well, pretty much anything. A creature built to survive molten temperatures and eat slag isn't exactly something that would show up at the dinner table. No doubt the meat would be poisonous to many species, so I had to wonder if this informed anything. Were the Pteramafic seen as holy before or after they found out you couldn't eat them? It sounds absolutely silly to say aloud, but I am curious. Perhaps it is just pure coincidence, or maybe this helped shape their views of the species. Hard to say, and probably isn't my place to really debate this. I would bring it up to my guides, but I think it would just give them more ammo to make fun of me.     Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian -------------------------------------------------------- Any lava place has got to have lava fish! And yes, I am aware real lava and magma doesn't function like this, but it is a sin practically every fantasy world commits, so I think its fine. Since we are the Underworld, that means we need prehistoric fish, so why not the pteraspis?    

[secretlyatargaryen]

Tyrion and Dany, Monsters

“Monster” is a word that has been used to justify the abuse and dehumanization Tyrion has been subjected to from the moment he was born.

“When I commented that you seemed a poor sort of monster, your sister said, 'He killed my mother,' and twisted your little cock so hard I thought she was like to pull it off. You shrieked, but it was only when your brother Jaime said, 'Leave him be, you're hurting him,' that Cersei let go of you. 'It doesn't matter,' she told us. 'Everyone says he's like to die soon. He shouldn't even have lived this long.'”

It’s a word that appears often in Tyrion’s thoughts because of his awareness of how it is used against him.

. . me, the dwarf, the monster, the one they scorned and laughed at...  

"Yes, and I am a monster besides, hideous and misshapen, never forget that."

And when Tyrion reclaims that word in the books and turns it back around on someone who really is a monster, he’s using it to protect Sansa.

"No." Tyrion's voice was hoarse. "Sansa is no longer yours to torment. Understand that, monster."

Joffrey sneered. "You're the monster, Uncle."

Which of course is used against him, because he’s never been allowed to forget that label that has been used against him just for the crime of being born, and used to justify sexually abusing him as an infant. And in the scene with Joffrey, it’s a reminder that not only can he not protect himself, but that he can’t protect Sansa, either. His disability makes him weak not only in the eyes of people who would hurt him, but it means he can’t save anyone from the real monsters. This dehumanizes Tyrion as a man because he can’t perform what he sees as his duty as Sansa’s husband, and also diminishes him as someone who can never be a hero himself, but can only be an object to be acted on. And later, it’s used to twist the narrative and portray him as a villain.

"Ser Ilyn never dared provoke Aerys the way your Imp provokes Joff," said Cersei. "You heard him. 'Monster,' he said. To the King's Grace. And he threatened him . . ."

This word also factors in Tyrion’s mental break when he is falsely accused of Joffrey’s murder and begins to collapse underneath the belief that he really is a monster.

“You make me sorry that I am not the monster you would have me be, yet there it is. I am innocent, but I will get no justice here.”

It’s hard to identify who the real monsters are when you’ve been told your whole life that you are a monster. Tyrion goes from insisting upon his innocence, to attempting to protect others, to wishing he were what people thought he was. But what hurts most is Jaime, the brother that he loves, seeing him that way.

“And I am the monster they all say I am. Yes, I killed your vile son." He made himself grin. It must have been a hideous sight to see, there in the torchlit gloom.

Jaime turned without a word and walked away.

By ADWD, Tyrion, haunted by trauma and consumed by self-loathing, begins to refer to himself as a monster, seemingly believing the things people have said to justify dehumanizing him.

“No matter, Griff. You are no knight and I am Hugor Hill, a little monster. Your little monster, if you like. You have my word, all that I desire is to be leal servant of your dragon queen."

And this is where Tyrion’s story starts to meld with Dany’s, who also is surrounded by the word “monster.” The Dragon Queen. Queen of Monsters.

The girl never started for the west. No doubt she had good reasons. Between Meereen and Volantis lay five hundred leagues of deserts, mountains, swamps, and ruins, plus Mantarys with its sinister repute. A city of monsters, they say, but if she marches overland, where else is she to turn for food and water? The sea would be swifter, but if she does not have the ships …

Daenerys is a girl with no homeland. Daughter of a king who was, by all accounts, truly monstrous. A girl who assimilated herself into a culture she was sold into and forcibly married into, a girl who woke dragons out of stone, literal monsters out of myth. Small wonder Dany has also come to see the word “monster” as describing herself.

Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

Other people also use the word “monster” against Dany, for her crimes of rebellion and upsetting the social order. And being a mother to dragons is also a feminine sort of monstrosity.

"Sweet?" Qavo laughed. "If even half the stories coming back from Slaver's Bay are true, this child is a monster. They say that she is bloodthirsty, that those who speak against her are impaled on spikes to die lingering deaths. They say she is a sorceress who feeds her dragons on the flesh of newborn babes, an oathbreaker who mocks the gods, breaks truces, threatens envoys, and turns on those who have served her loyally. They say her lust cannot be sated, that she mates with men, women, eunuchs, even dogs and children, and woe betide the lover who fails to satisfy her. She gives her body to men to take their souls in thrall."

Oh, good, thought Tyrion. If she gives her body to me, she is welcome to my soul, small and stunted though it is.

It seems like Tyrion and Daenerys are destined for some kind of partnership, and this quote hints at a sexual one. That doesn’t necessarily mean that Dany x Tyrion will happen, because it could also be a symbolic coupling. Whatever happens between them, this quote is very intimate, an exchange of bodies and souls. A union of monsters.

"Have you ever bedded a monster before?”

Of the characters that question the label of “monster” applied to disabled people, Oberyn is one. In ADWD, Sweets, the intersex character who is a slave in Yezzen’s menagerie, uses the word to contrast the ableist labels given to Tyrion and the other slaves and to point out the true monstrosity of what they are being subjected to.

"You will want to be careful with Nurse," said Sweets when the overseer had departed. "He is the only true monster here."

The narrative is telling us that the true monsters are the ones who dehumanize others, and it’s those who have been called monsters that are in a position to call this out.

For Dany, it is not only confronting the monstrosity of her family’s legacy, manifested in the literal monstrosity of the dragons, but also tied into this narrative is the fact that all of the men that Dany has loved have been monsters (and, similarly to Tyrion, Dany spends a lot of time thinking of herself as a monster because of how she has been abused by monstrous men.)

(About Daario) Dany was appalled. He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. 

Again we see the theme of men who give the appearance of gallantry but are moral monsters, just as Sansa once thought Joffrey gallant. And both Tyrion and Dany struggle with whether they are any different from these moral monsters.

What have I done? she thought, huddled in her empty bed. I have waited so long for him to come back, and I send him away. "He would make a monster of me," she whispered, "a butcher queen." But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters. 

“My hands …" Tyrion turned them over, inspected them, coiled them into fists. "… my hands are crusted with old blood, aye. Call me kinslayer, and you won't be wrong. Kingslayer, I'll answer to that one as well. I have killed mothers, fathers, nephews, lovers, men and women, kings and whores. 

The irony of these quotes is that the very context contradicts the claim that these characters are what they say. Dany is not the monster the men influencing her would have her be, and Tyrion didn’t even do half the things he is confessing to.

[smirkingsolo]

Orpheus: A Reylo Story (Chapter 2: That’s Dagobah for You)

The World Between Worlds Reylo Fix it fic you’ve been craving since TROS ripped out your still beating heart and crushed it to death.

Canon-compliant, universe-plausible, multi-chapter

Find previous chapters over on my AO3 (Rinnagirl) at https://archiveofourown.org/works/21984730/chapters/52460923

Or here: Prologue, Chapter 1

Your comments, likes, reblogs, kudos, etc. mean the absolute world to me!

Chapter 2: That’s Dagobah for You

Ben knows she’s coming.

When they boarded the Falcon back on Jakku, he’d attempted, once again, to steer the ship, but the Falcon wouldn’t have it. Instead he was forced to sit back and wait to see where this godforsaken ghost freighter would take them. Irritating as it was to not be in control, Ben had a feeling the Falcon knew where they should go. So he chose, much to his chagrin, to trust his father’s ship to take him to where he needed to be to find Rey.

He regretted his choice the moment he stepped off the craft and nearly tumbled face first into a swamp.

“Unbelievable,” Ben mutters to himself, gripping a nearby tree root using to balance himself as he yanks his other boot out of some muddy hole that has swallowed it. The third time such a thing has happened since disembarking on Dagobah no more than an hour ago.

Leia has already scaled a nearby fallen trunk and is smirking down at her frustrated son with an almost illegally gleeful look. She is enjoying being young again.

“Something the matter?” She smiles at him, the picture of innocence. Ben glares at her.

“I can’t believe she’s found a worse place to go than the middle of the damned Jakku desert.” 

The sand for swamp trade isn’t suiting him well, and he imagines it won’t suit Rey, a lifelong desert dweller, well either.

Leia offers him a hand, tugging him up onto the trunk alongside her.

“Don’t worry, Ben, we’re getting close to something, I can feel it.”

He can tell that his Force powers are muted in this state, more so than the more experienced Leia's, forcing him to the frustrating realization of how much he relied on them to sense and move about in the world with grace and awareness. If anything, he had expected his Force sensitivity to be heightened by both his altered dimensional status and the natural Force connectedness of Dagobah. No such luck.

He mutters, half to Leia, half to himself, about how it doesn’t seem particularly fair that they can pass through people but not other solid objects like the building-sized tree root they are now required to climb over to continue deeper into this hell swamp. Though sweat, water, mud (so much mud), and the like appear to roll off them like raindrops, Ben feels there really ought to be more perks, and fewer sense-dulling drawbacks, to being a part of the World Between Worlds.

Alas, the predominant contribution of the World Between Worlds to their surroundings remains the smoky, dreamlike quality—something that has increased tenfold in the ethereal fog of the Dagobah swamplands. The poor visibility makes searching for a handholds more of a risk than Ben is entirely comfortable with, given that his normally sharp senses are dulled.

“Ben.” He looks up to where his mother is steadying herself, clutching a thick, mossy vine. “Try a different vine.”

“Why?” He blinks at her, bemused, hand half a beat from closing around a sturdy-looking vine.

“That’s a vine snake, Ben.”

Kriffing swamp.

“That’s Dagobah for you.”

Ben and Leia both startle at the familiar voice, Ben nearly tumbling off the root as he whirls to face the Force spirit of his old master.

“Luke!” Leia exclaims in delight; “I would hug you if I could, but I don’t know if I can touch a Force spirit any more than I can a regular person.”

Luke offers his sister a sad smile, “No, I don’t think so. But if Ben succeeds—and I’m sure you will, Ben, by the way—you and I will be reunited again soon.”

Ben is silent, as unsure what to say to his old master as he was in the moment of Luke’s apparent betrayal at the temple all those years ago.

He knows Luke can sense his hesitation.

“I know you need time before you can even begin to forgive me, Ben. I failed you as a master, and as an uncle, even in death. I wasn’t there on Exegol when you needed me, but next time I will be. I promise you.”

Ben can only nod. His parents are one thing, forgiving them came naturally, even if it hurt. But his master could have appeared to him when he was clinging to Rey, looking around wildly, desperate for someone, anyone, to guide him, to help him save her. He’d sensed Luke—Luke and all the Jedi of the past—above him as he had climbed back towards Rey. But by the time he made it, they were gone. They’d abandoned him. Left him once again when he needed them. Needed him. It was too fresh, too new a wound to mend right now.

Luke’s face falters, sensing what Ben cannot say aloud, but he nods and Ben returns the gesture. An unspoken agreement that they will revisit this in time.

“There is someone else who wants to speak with you.”

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

She knows it wasn’t technically a lie, the claim that she needed to go to Dagobah to re-attempt her connection with past Jedi. She had told them that she needed to do so in order to learn how to construct a saber. Which was true. But it wasn’t the full truth.

She’d seen him. Seen Ben through the Force in her vision of his past self constructing his saber. And he had looked at her. Not up, not at the saber, not at anything in the vision, but beyond it and out to her. She could feel it.

After Ben faded into the Force, the one small comfort she had clung to whenever the loss of him overwhelmed her was the possibility that he might appear to her as a Force spirit, as Master Luke had done. But two months passed without a trace of him, ghost or otherwise. No matter how many nights she sat up til nearly dawn, deep in meditation, hands clutching the torn black shirt she’d carried back with her from Exegol, the sun would rise with no familiar pull in her gut, no hazy blue outline. And so she would curl in on herself and let the sobs shake her whole body. In those moments she allowed her sorrow to overwhelm her, beating against her in waves that left her paralyzed and powerless against the tide of her own emotions.

Master Luke had said that confronting fear was the destiny of the Jedi, but what about all of the other feelings? How was a Jedi meant to handle the consuming sorrow of loss, the harsh boil of anger, the deep pull of longing. How was anyone meant to handle such things?

A master would be useful during this time. But she would have to make do, have to figure some things out herself, as she always had.

When Luke spoke of his time training on Dagobah he’d explained how deeply intertwined the planet was with the Force, hence its appeal to Master Yoda. Logically, Force spirits could manifest wherever they desired, but highly Force connected locations like Dagobah and Ahch-To were ideal places to make contact. If there is anywhere that Ben might be able to appear to her, it will be deep in the swamps of Dagobah.

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

When Ben reaches the bottom of the root, there is another Force spirit waiting for him. He looks back up to where Luke and Leia remain perched on the root above. Leia gives him an encouraging nod.

He knows it’s a silly thing, but he is genuinely relieved that Anakin Skywalker is not wearing the mask of Darth Vader. When Palpatine had admitted—bragged—about being every voice in Ben’s head, including his grandfather, something small and private in him had broken. He’d trusted the voice of Vader, of his own grandfather in his head telling him that the dark side was right for him. He had believed in Vader. Learning that it had all been just some other manipulator using his trust to control him had crushed Ben more than he cared to admit.

He is glad he can see Anakin Skywalker’s face. See his eyes. His father once told him that the eyes never lie. Granted he was talking about gambling, but it still applied. He remembers that it was the first thing to strike him about Rey. After years of lying eyes, hers were clear—open, emotive, and honest. He’d known, despite himself, that he trusted her the moment she looked at him.  

“Ben, I am so—” Sorry. Yes, I know. Everyone is so sorry. He’s getting tired of the apologies. The damage has been done already and no amount of apology can undo their actions any more than it can undo his. For once Ben wishes someone would say something, anything, other than so—

“—proud of you.”

“What did you say?”

“I’m proud of you, Ben.”

Stunned, he replies reflexively with the first thought in his mind.

“Why?”

“You turned your back on the dark side, on Palpatine, on the power to rule the galaxy. It’s no small thing; I should know.” He smiles.

Ben can only blink. Snoke had so often insisted that Vader had made an error in judgment when he turned, convinced him that the Vader looking down on him would only be proud of his grandson if he upheld Vader’s true legacy of conquest, darkness, and power. To Snoke, Vader was a mantle, not a man. But this isn’t Vader. This is Anakin Skywalker and Ben has no idea what to think of him.

“What was it...what first turned you to the dark side?” He is curious. As fixated as he has always been on his grandfather’s legacy, Ben realizes he knows very little of the man beyond Vader.

“The same as you, Ben. It was fear that first turned me to the dark. I feared losing those I loved, my wife, my family. I was afraid of being alone. Just as you were. You feared your parents didn’t love you. You felt abandoned, and the dark side thrives on that fear, Ben, on the ability to isolate you from those who love you. It teaches you to be jealous, possessive, and manipulative in order to take and keep what you want. But Ben, that is the fastest way to lose someone you love.”

He knows, deep down, what Anakin is speaking of. He’d told Rey in Snoke’s throne room, when he first pleaded with her to join him, that she was nothing, though not to him. It didn’t make a difference if he thought it was true, if it was his own way of telling her she mattered to him; it was manipulative. He’d sought to remind her that she was alone, that she didn’t belong anywhere if not with him in the hope that it would draw her to his side. Every time he’d attempted to turn her to the dark side he’d relied on honing that feeling of loneliness inside her, preying upon it, making her feel she had no choice but to join him. Just as Snoke had done to him.

He knows it was wrong. It had felt wrong even then and it gnawed at him still that he’d turned the very thing that ruined him against the first person to show him compassion. The moment she told him, on the wreck of the Death Star with the sea raging around them, she had wanted to take his hand, wanted to take Ben’s hand, he realized such a tactic was worthless on someone like Rey—Rey with her guileless eyes and her unrestrained faith in him. Manipulation was for people who were too afraid to trust others choose them, to care about them naturally. It had been his weapon, his crutch, his defense for so long.

But everything about Rey scoffed at his master’s teachings on the necessity of manipulation in keeping someone in your life. She had thrown herself full force into reaching him, determined to dig out the good that she was so certain was inside him somewhere. She believed in him absolutely. It was almost miraculous. Rey had abandoned her initial hatred of him in favor of the possibility that the monster, Kylo Ren, was actually just a frightened, conflicted boy who needed help, needed someone to have real faith in him. She had locked on and refused to let go in a way that no one had ever done for him.

Rey had willed Ben Solo back into existence with sheer force of conviction. And somehow she had sorted the marrow of him from the Snoke-molded sham of fear that was Kylo Ren.

It had unbalanced him. Rey was a new creature, entirely other to him in her ways, someone who forced him to reckon with his own worth, his own self-respect, with the man he needed to be to get what he wanted. When he tried to manipulate her into joining him in the throne room, and again on the Death Star, she had given him a silent ultimatum. You can show me your real face now or you can die a coward in a mask of lies. But I will not allow you to have Ben Solo. You will not bury him back inside of Kylo Ren. Either you are Ben or you are not, but I will not take your hand if you are not. Ben Solo matters and you will not take him from me.

He knew, as he should have before he even tried, that Rey would resist any attempt to manipulate her to Kylo Ren’s side. There was only one way to Rey and that was trust. Kylo Ren didn’t know how to trust. But he was Ben Solo, and Ben Solo didn’t need to manipulate because he trusted Rey. He believed in her as absolutely as she had believed in him. And in the end, he knew that saved him from the dark.

Her light had exposed the lies he had come to accept. He knew the truth now. He didn’t need to be afraid, didn’t need the dark side to keep people in his life, because he knew Rey would never let him feel alone again.  

Ben is startled from his thoughts, brought back to the moment by the voice of Anakin.

“You’ve spent so much of your life preoccupied with carrying on my legacy, with finishing what I started. But I wonder if perhaps you’re closer to doing so now that you’ve ever been.”

“What do you mean?”

“I started on the path when I sacrificed my life for my son. By that time it was already too late for me. I had lost my chance to live the life I had always wanted. Thrown away what could have been a lifetime of joy with the love of my life and our children. Your redemption, like mine, will be valuable to those you leave behind, but to make it valuable to you it must be lived out in its entirety.  I believe you will have the opportunity to do what I could not. You can live a full life, Ben. You can finish what I started, succeed where I failed.”

Ben knows Anakin is waiting for a smile, a nod, any indication of excitement at the hopeful prospect. But a void of fear yawns within him.

“I don’t deserve that. I want it. More than I can say. My mother said I would need to spend my whole life earning it, which I don’t mind, but I...”

“Don’t know where to begin?” Anakin exhales the words, a soft sigh of one who has spent untold time pondering that very question. Wistful in a way that tells Ben just how much he understands Ben's situation.

Ben nods, eyes on his boots, his next words come out sounding small, full of childlike hesitation and sincerity, a tone that pleads for answers, for guidance. “Where would you have begun, if you had survived that day?”

Anakin is silent for a beat, though his answer was solidified long ago.

“With the ones I loved most. My children, the last traces of my beloved wife left in the world.”

Anakin’s sorrow is palpable, twisting thick in the air between them, a great coil of regret. Ben’s eyes prickle as Anakin's feeling cuts into his soul, forcing him to blink the burn of it away as Anakin offers him a watery smile.

“You can begin there too, Ben. The rest will follow in time. Great love saved you from the dark; it is the most steadfast path to the light. Once you reach the light, it is love for others, even just one other, that will hold you there. You will have the life I wanted because there is great love in you, Ben Solo. I can feel it.”

And Ben can feel something too. It swells in him, warm and familiar, climbing up his spine, humming in his toes and the tips of his fingers.

She’s here.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter, Beginning

[lostinkoreantranslations]

Monsta X “Alligator” Lyrics Breakdown + Translation

딱히 이유가 없는데 끌릴 때 그게 젤 위험해 자꾸 내 호기심을 자극해 like oh 눈빛을 교환해 뭐, 일단 그거면 충분해 모든 건 때가 다가왔을 때 like oh

딱히 - “really,” often used to emphasize the lack of something

이유 - reason, cause, excuse, grounds for

~이/가 - subject particle

없다 - to not have, to not exist, to not be

V + ~ㄴ/는데 - used to connect two clauses in which the second clause negates some aspect of the first (think: “even though,” “although,” “but”; ex.: ex: 지금 소고기 먹고 있는데 진짜 물고기는 먹고 싶어. → “Although I’m eating beef right now, I really want fish.”)

~은데 is used ONLY with DESCRIPTIVE verbs (싶다 is always treated as a descriptive verb)

끌리다 - to be attracted by, to drawn to, to drag

V + ~ㄹ 때 - when…

그게 - it, that; contraction of 그것이

젤 - best, the most; contraction of 제일

위험하다 - to be dangerous, to be risky, to be hazardous, to be perilous, to be critical

자꾸 - repeatedly, again and again, often, frequently, again

~의 - possession particle [내 → 나 + ~의]

호기심 - curiosity

~을/를 - object particle

자극하다 - to stimulate, to excite, to spur, to provoke, to tilitate, to thrill, to arouse

눈빛 - the look in one’s eyes

교환하다 - to exchange

�� - what

일단 - first, for now, for the moment,

그거면 + V - that is/will be [verb]

충분하다 - to be enough, to be sufficient, to be satisfactory, to be ample, to be good

모든 - all, every, whole, entire

건 - thing, case, matter; contraction of 것은

때 - time, moment

다가오다 - to approach, to draw near, to come closer

Translation: For some reason / It feels so dangerous when you’re first attracted to someone / My curiosity gets piqued again and again, like oh / We exchange glances / Huh, that’s usually enough / Everything’ll happen when the times right, like oh

Fallin' down 우린 아득한 저 끝에서 점점 빠져 뒹굴게 될 테니까 oh

우리 - we, us, our

~은/는 - topic particle

아득하다 - to be distant, to be far (away), to be remote

V + ~ㄴ/은 - used to turn descriptive verbs into adjectives

저 - that

This is used as opposed 그 when something (be it concrete or abstract) is far from both the speaker and the listener

끝 - end, finish, close

~에서 - event location particle; used to denote a location where a specific action or event is taking place

점점 - gradually, increasingly, bit by bit

빠지다 - to fall, to deflate, to drain

뒹굴다 - to roll over

V + ~게 - used to turn verbs into adverbs

되다 - to be, to become, to develop into

V + ~ㄹ/을 테니까 - used to express one’s assumption about a future occurrence (think: “since,” “might,” “will,” “so,” etc.)

Translation: Fallin’ down closer to our far off end / Bit by bit, you fall for me until you finally give into me

난 나의 늪으로 널 끌어당겨 너는 날 너의 늪으로 또 끌어당겨 모든 게 다 물 속에 잠긴 것처럼 헤어날 수 없이 벌써 빠져버린 느낌 난 나의 늪으로 널 끌어당겨 너는 날 너의 늪으로 또 끌어당겨 이 모든 게 내 뜻대로 다 이뤄져 작정하면 절대 놓지 않아 alligator

늪 - swamp, marsh, bog

~(으)로 - direction/method/means by which particle (think: “to,” “for,” “by,” etc,)

끌어당기다 - to pull, to draw

또 - also, too, as well, again, once more

다 - all

물 - water

속 - inside, in

~에 - location/time particle

잠기다 - to be swamped with/by, to be flooded with, to be lost in, to be immersed within, to be absorbed in/by, to be locked, to be fastened

것 - thing

~처럼 - like

헤어나다 - to get out of, to get over, to get through, to free oneself

V + ~ㄹ/을 수 없다 - to be unable to do

없이 - without

벌써 - already

V + ~버리다 (to throw away, to dump, to desert, to leave, to give up, to impair, to spoil, to ruin, to destroy) - used to emphasize that something has happened (often against one’s will if it is a negative occurrence/happening)

느낌 - feeling, sense, sensation

이 - this

뜻대로 - one’s own way, as one wishes

이루어지다 - to be achieved, to be fulfilled, to be made (of), to be reached, to be accomplished

작정하다 - to decide, to resolve, to plan, to intend

V + ~(으)면 - if, when

절대 - never, absolutely, completely

놓다 - to lay, to put, to place, to release, to let go

V + ~지 않다 - verb pattern used to negate verbs (think: “not...”)

Translation: I’ll pull you down into my swamp / While you try to pull me down into yours / Until it feels like everything’s underwater / Inescapably, it feels like I’ve already fallen for you / I keep pulling you down into my swamp / You still keep trying to pull me into yours / It’s all going to plan / Even if you decide to, I’ll never let you go / Alligator

Hello I'm an alli-alligator Watch out 팽팽해진 이 긴장감 속 danger 널 향해 터뜨리는 큰 banger hoo 넌 포착됐어 나의 radar 한번 작정하면 절대 놓지 않아 alligator 두 눈 희번덕이며 달려가지 숨이 차도 hah hah 제어가 안돼 제어가 안돼 나조차도 주체가 안돼  I can't control myself ye yeah

팽팽하다 - to tense, to strain, to be tight, to be taught [팽팽해지다 (“to be tensed”; passive form) → 팽팽하다 + ~지다 (to sink/settle/fall into, to become)]

긴장감 - tension

향하다 - to face, to head toward/for

터뜨리다 - to pop, to break, to burst, to explode, to detonate

V + ~는 - used to turn verbs into present tense direct modifiers (ex. 먹는 음식 - the food that I am eating)

크다 - to be big/large

포착 - capture, detect, seize, catch, grab, grasp, sense, pick up

한번 - once, one time

둘 - two (Native Korean number; drop ~ㄹ when using it to modify/count noun)

눈 - eye

희번덕이다 - to goggle, to gawk, to ogle

V + ~며 - while; contraction of ~(으)면서

달려가다 - to dash, to run, to rush

숨 - breath

숨이 차다 - to take a breath

~도 - too, also, even

제어 - control

안되다 - to must not do, to should not do, to be forbidden, to not be allowed, to not be supposed

조차 - even, too, in addition, besides

주체 - cope with

Translation: Hello, I’m an alli-alligator / Watch out, in this push & pull, there’s danger / You ready to face this explosive banger? (Hoo) / [Uh oh] I’ve got you on my radar / I’ve made up my mind, I’ll never let you go, alligator / My eyes are stuck on you, can’t seem to even catch my breath (hah hah) / I can’t control it, I can’t control it / I don’t even know what to do with myself / I can’t control myself, ye-yeah

Fallin' down 우린 복잡한 감정 속에 점점 빠져 뒹굴게 될 테니까 oh

복잡하다 - to be complicated

감정 - feeling, emotion, sentiment

Translation: Fallin’ down further into our tangled feelings / Bit by bit, we fall for each other until one of us finally gives in

날 알아봐라 이게 나라 어쩌면 아마 우린 알아 바람 따라 왔다 갔다 하지 않아 그게 나라 악어란 존재란 고요한 강렬함 순간의 찰나 너를 담아 갈 준비는 끝났어 oh (ah)

알아보다 - to investigate, to check out, to search, to look into, to recognize, to identify, to remember

V + ~라 - verb ending used to give a command; mostly used directed toward persons much younger than themselves

이게 - this (thing), contraction of 이것이

어쩌면 - how, what, maybe, possibly, accidentally, coincidentally, occasionally

아마 - probably, likely, possibly, perhaps, maybe

알다 - to know, to understand, to learn, to recognize, to be aware of

바람 - wind

따르다 - to follow, to go after, to tag along with, to obey, to comply with, to abide by

오다 - to come, to show up, to visit

가다 - to go, to come, to get, to enter, to proceed

하다 - to do

악어 - alligator

~(이)란 - used to indicate name of something/someone/some place (“...that is called ____”); contraction of ~(이)라는 [which itself is a contraction of ~(이)라고 하는]

존재 - existence, being

고요하다 - to be calm, to be quiet, to be tranquil, to be serene, to be placid

강렬하다 - to be intense, to be strong, to be mighty, to be severe

V + ~ㅁ/음 - used to turn verbs into nouns

순간 - moment, instant

찰나 - moment, instant

담다 - to put something in something, to bottle, to box

V + ~ㄹ/을 - used to turn verb into future tense modifier (ex.: 먹을 음식 - the food that will be eaten)

준비 - preparation(s)

끝나다 - to end/finish, to be over/done/completed

Translation: Look at me, this is the “real” me / But maybe we both already knew that / I don’t follow the wind wherever it comes and goes / I lie still and wait like a gator, placid* intensity / Always ready to strike / At a moment’s notice, I’ll get you

* - calm (I couldn’t help myself, okay; I HAD to make this pun)

Alli-alli-alli-alligator x3 Baby 내 몸과 맘 너에게만 Alligator Alli-alli-alli-alligator x3 Baby 내 몸과 맘 너에게만 Alligator

몸 - body

맘 - heart, mind, feeling; contraction of 마음

~에게 - “to/toward” & giving (as in giving something to someone/something) particle (너에게 → 너 + ~에게)

~만 - only, just

~와/과 - “and” connective particles (used with nouns; ~와 is attached when the last syllable ends in a vowel, while ~과 is used when the last syllable ends in 받침)

Translation: Alli-alli-alli-alligator (x3) / Baby, my body & heart belong only to you / Alli-alli-alli-alligator (x3) / Baby, my body & heart belong only to you

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Approaching Sun (20)

Author’s Note:Again, I apologize for not having this out until now. I have been absolutely swamped. I am hoping my time will free up a lot this summer. Thanks for your patience.

P.S. Happy Monday

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

Next Chapter: 21

Chapter 20: No More.

Sasuke thought it was the sudden light of sunrise that was signaling the instincts within his body to wake. That is, until a growing warmth began to bloom over his face and a sweat beaded across his forehead.

The Uchiha sucked in a sharp breath and opened his eyes. An orb of orange flame hovered a couple of feet in front of his face and Sasuke had to blink several times before his eyes could adjust enough to recognize the stooped frame illuminated just behind it.

Sasuke jerked back away from the flame as he croaked hoarsely, "What the--" He coughed on his own words, his throat strangely dry.

"You're finally awake," Sakura's voice floated softly across the short space between them. Finally, the torch was withdrawn and Sasuke let out a small sigh of relief. The torch was quickly replaced with a pale hand that touched the sweaty plane of his brow. "I'm starting to think that you might be sick."

"I'm starting to think you're annoying andcrazy," he moaned, glancing around him. It took the Uchiha a second to recall where exactly he was. They were still in Kaguya's tower, up the stairs and in this pitch-black room. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed since he'd fallen asleep.

"You've been asleep for almost 24 hours!" Sakura whispered loudly, almost as if she was afraid to overwhelm his senses. Sasuke was grateful because he suddenly felt a little disoriented--perhaps he had exhausted himself more than he had thought.

When Sasuke thought about it, more time usually stretched between his uses of the Rinnegan. Yes, he had spent almost a week and a half in the village and had roamed aimlessly outside of the realms for a week before he had even decided to turn towards Konoha. So essentially, he had had almost 2 and a half weeks to recover most of his chakra just to blow it on coming here. Thankfully, by only teleporting to the core dimension, Sasuke had only used 1/4th of the reserves he normally spent. It was a complicated math problem: his dojustu needed enough chakra to get him to the core dimension and then enough to open any of the other connected realms (all of which used varying levels of chakra) and still more to do those same steps but in reverse--not to mention, that he needed chakra to save in case he encountered an enemy.

This was Sasuke's biggest problem while searching for Kaguya. He felt like so much of his time was wasted just on letting his body recover enough to jump between realms, and the Uchiha already felt like time was slipping between his fingers. Just how much longer did he have? This was why they needed to leave—to go to the Sand village so that Sasuke might conduct an experiment and test a theory of his.

Lost in thought, Sasuke's eyes had drifted closed again despite the glaring light of the flame in front of him. If he was this tired, he must have emptied himself more than he thought, probably not taking into account that he had to use extra by bringing Sakura with him here. Would he have enough to take them home?

Suddenly, a green glow replaced the flame's brightness and Sasuke jumped when the palm on his forehead pressed harder. Without meaning to, Sasuke leaned into the cool, green brilliance of Sakura's fingers. When Sasuke's head began to clear, he let himself absorb the chakra, his body greedily accepting it. But then, an image of his former red-haired teammate pushing her scarred skin between his teeth had Sasuke reaching up and pulling Sakura's hand down.

He wasn’t the person to do that sort of thing anymore. "That's enough," he croaked, throat still scratchy from little use.

"Don't be silly," she whispered again as her fingertips moved to his throat and began glowing again, healing this part of him too. "We need to get you out of this room."

Sasuke stared up at her. Her face was dirty, and he was suddenly aware of just how long 24 hours must have seemed like to her--and in this perpetual darkness. "You could've woken me up sooner."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Says the grump who growled at me just seconds ago for waking him."

In answer, Sasuke growled. Just for good measure—so the pink-haired kunoichi wouldn’t forget.

That bright sound of her giggle escaping her mouth had the thought of smirk coming to Sasuke's mind, but when the kunoichi reached out, grabbed his tunic and practically lifted him to his feet, Sasuke snarled again, all joking aside. That damn strength surprised him every time—not to mention that by doing such a thing, she made Sasuke feel a little feeble.

He hissed when his weight settled to his stiff ankles. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck to disguise the sound. Sakura giggled again, obviously taking much delight in his current predicament.

"Come on," she tugged on his elbow—purposefully avoiding his hand—and Sasuke began to walk forward, focused on the woman in front of him.

…………………………..

Little steps, she almost said to him after pulling him forward. But with her hand on his arm and their bodies so close in this dimness, Sakura didn’t let the words escape her mouth in case he might misread her meaning.

In truth, she was starving. It was the reason she had finally woken him. Now the way in which she woke him could have been different, but the medical side of her couldn’t help but make an experiment out of it though: seeing how his body would respond to the light after being submerged in night for a 24-hour period. It took her a long time to re-ignite that infuriating torch so that she might mimic the sun.

Sasuke didn’t know—hadn’t realized that he had been by himself for hours at a time during his deep sleep. Sakura had left him soon after he had gone under. Sakura had left that room with a sense of thrilling determination, eager and hopeful to finally prove her usefulness to the Uchiha. However, after marching aimlessly around for hours, Sakura found—well, not much. Okay… she found nothing.  

She had searched for 3 hours inside this confusing maze of a tower looking for everything and anything that might be useful to them: structures, forms of writing or symbols, patterns of similarities or differences. There just wasn’t anything.

At best, Sakura was able to figure out and easily navigate this entire damn maze within that time. Each tunnel and every turn brought her back to that single room in which Sasuke remained sleeping. Each time she reentered, Sasuke would stir, years of ninja instincts alerting him to her coming and going.

"Sleep," she had whispered as she placed her glowing hand over his eyes and sent a soothing sensation down through her chakra, and he had fallen back into sleep. Sakura didfeel guilty for that—coaxing his body back into a sleep. She had only done it once, but Sasuke had stopped stirring after that. So Sakura had taken advantage of the situation and left the tower completely.

She was gone for four hours that time. Wherever the light was coming from, Sakura didn’t know, but it never darkened in this dimension—a sky always alight with a sun that never warmed or set. The medical ninja didn’t like it, but the tower's darkness made a lot more sense taking that fact into consideration. But why? Who, other than Kaguya had ever made use of it?

Sakura had been determined to find something out. It was with this conviction, that had the kunoichi marching through the rising and falling dunes for two hours after that, looking back and forth for a sign of anything--anything at all. But this dimension was like a red, rocky desert that never changed. There wasn’t another tower within that two-hour radius like she was hoping. She had even kicked through the dirt in search of any living thing, but there was nothing, so she stomped her foot into the red rock and turned on her heel back towards the tower.

When Sakura had arrived, Sasuke still slept silently and soundly in the dark, so she had curled up against the opposite wall and let her frustration pull her own body under. When she woke, Sakura sat up and was surprised to see that Sasuke still slept. It was then that she suspected her influence earlier had placed the Uchiha in a deep sleep—a sleep his body desperately needed. But she also wondered if he were sick, which was why his body was so eager for the rest. So she watched his even breathing for another hour or two, but then her empty stomach began to growl.

Now, as she led Sasuke through the maze, she desperately wished she were leading him to some big discovery, or some secret she had found. This was what she had wanted, and now felt disappointed because she was missing out on the chance to do so. Sakura supposed it made sense that if Sasuke hadn't found anything, she wouldn’t have had much of a chance either. Hehadbeen doing this for quite a while.

So she was going to pretend that none of it had happened. It was far less embarrassing to act as if she hadn't searched at all than to admit she hadand didn’t find anything. She sighed.

"I've never slept that long at one time," Sasuke admitted curiously to her, which was unlike himself. He never admitted to anything at all, let alone force it to sound somewhat sorry for it. Was he suspicious of her actions. There’s no way, she thought to herself.

Sakura forced out an innocent laugh. "It's a good thing to catch up on some much-needed rest. Take it as advice from your doctor."

The Uchiha scoffed but didn’t say anything else after that, even though Sakura could feel his scowling stare between her shoulder blades. She just kept marching.

When they finally made it to the cave, Sasuke turned back towards the tower's hidden door, firmly snuffed out the torch, and replaced it back in its hidden position behind the door's frame.

The sudden blackness around them afterwards was suffocating, but when she felt Sasuke's fingertips brush her elbow—in the same way that her own had reached for his over and over—Sakura let her smile break the seam of her own lips. It was short-lived, because Sakura froze when her eyes adjusted enough to make out Sasuke's Sharingan—which almost seemed to glow in the darkness—watching that smile. She knew the Uchiha had seen when he withdrew his fingers. She regretted the smile, then.

"Come on," he said emotionlessly, walking ahead of her in the gloom. This time, he didn’t grab her arm or help her stumble her way out as he had helped her when they had first come upon the cave yesterday.

There was no wind that hit them when they finally walked into the light, but rather a brightness that was dead and airless. It didn’t fill Sakura with the warmth that she had instinctively expected it to.

Sasuke finally spoke, announcing, “We need to make it back to the same spot in which we teleported.”

Sakura snapped her head in his direction, “What for?” That would mean they would have to trek for several more hours.

“It is much easier to connect a vast time-space if you teleport through a door that was previously opened before,” Sasuke explained, running his palm through his hair. “It’s almost like once there is a rip in space, it leaves a wound that can be reopened.”

He was speaking in a language that Sakura could easily understand, being a medical ninja. If the skin has been recently penetrated, it is easy to reopen. But once the skin scars, it becomes stronger than before.

“But then,” Sakura assessed, “if too much time has passed…”

“Exactly,” Sasuke confirmed her thinking. “The seal becomes almost permanent. It would take a vast amount of chakra to break back through it again.”

“Makes sense,” she replied, shuffling her feet in the dirt. “It’s a lot more complicated than I had imagined.”

Sasuke nodded, took a breath, and took the first step of their lengthy hike across the dunes.

Sakura observed his fixed posture and confident step, but the dark-haired ninja wasn’t fooling her. She knew he was trying to figure out how to get them home without completely draining himself of chakra. But there was something she hadn’t yet considered.

Catching up with him, she leaned forward and asked, “If we go back to the hotel, won’t we be walking back into an uncertain situation? I mean, those ninja could be waiting for us.”

“Perhaps,” Sasuke admitted. “Hopefully enough time has passed for them to have moved on, and they might not be expecting us to return there. But you are right. We need a plan.”

Suddenly, an idea began to form within Sakura’s mind. She halted in her tracks, a bit of dust rising around her, and said, “I have one.”

Stopping too, Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her. He was waiting for her to explain, which was a nostalgic feeling for Sakura. He was listening to her again, like he had when they were genin—taking her opinions into consideration and contemplating her viewpoints.

“What if I helped you,” she announced hopefully, “like I offered before.” If she used The Hundred’s Healing Mark, then they might have enough chakra where they didn’t have to make the journey.

“Absolutely not,” Sasuke deadpanned, instantly turning off his reception of her by rotating away again.

Sakura set her teeth in fury and frustration, but she didn’t move her body an inch. Her plan made the most sense! Sasuke was low in chakra while shehad been slowly storing a mass amount of it in the seal on her forehead. If she let Sasuke rely on his power alone, then they were forced to use their previous door because it took the least amount of chakra to access. By doing so, their location would undoubtedly put them at a disadvantage if their foes were still occupying that space around the hotel. And it would leave Sasuke vulnerable if his power was back at zero.

She didn’t really understand why Sasuke was saying no to this. He had slept for 24 hours just so they wouldn’t have to rely on her Strength of a Hundred Seal. Whether it was because he was being noble or something else, Sakura didn’t care. If she let him use up his chakra, how was she any better?

Sakura Haruno glared at Sasuke’s back. She was quite tired of seeing it—seeing him leading the way before her. As a kunoichi, Sakura thought she had proven herself—was going to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with Naruto and Sasuke from now on. But there he was, marking the path ahead.

No more. No more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

There was a sudden wind that brushed the back of Sasuke’s neck and he felt a silent roar of chakra spread across the range of ground behind him. He turned, taken aback and clenched his teeth in surprised irritation at the teammate whose beaming grin glowed as brightly as the tangible chakra emanating from her body.

Those searing, bright green eyes were directed towards the sky as she flexed her hands—open, close—open, close. Sasuke followed her gaze when it fell to the black marks running from her palms, up her shoulders, and to the crisscross “x” on her brow. Then her eyes landed on him.

Sasuke had to admit that the kunoichi was honestly quite brilliant to look at like that: rejuvenated by and delighting in her own power—feeling it electrify and exhilarate her as it began coursing down the pathways. But his annoyance with her focused his mind and Sasuke glowered in response.

She was defying his wishes and purposely breaking the seal to force him into a decision. Sasuke didn’t quite appreciate that, but was he going to waste this opportunity? Yes, he was. He would prove to her once and for all that he was changing. That he was done using people.

She began to walk towards him, and Sasuke didn’t break their mutual stare, hers one of mighty determination and his an icy challenge. He’d be damned—damned if he used her power.

Coming to stand before him, in all her strength, Sasuke broke her gaze to focus on that glowing purple diamond in the center of that large temple of hers. Everything about it was so… so… “annoying.” It came out as a stuttering hiss.

She grinned wickedly at the word and reached out, taking his hand firmly in her own. Her grip was so firm that Sasuke couldn’t jerk away this time. He found himself glowering viciously, all amusement gone from his red and purple eyes.

“You are annoying,” she said softly, letting her chakra graze against his skin in silent offering. “Let me help you. Quit being so damn stubborn.”

Sasuke set his teeth again. He almost said no, without giving her any further explanation, but then Sakura spoke again, as if their linked hands were somehow transferring his thoughts to her. “Relying upon your friends is not the same as using them. Let us work together so that we can complement one another’s weaknesses with our strengths. Become each other’s balance.”

Sasuke stared at this woman who was offering him a partnership that depended on one another—like they had had in the past. It had existed between them before—that bond of friendship that seemed to connect the two of them not only in ability, but emotions as well. He had tried to sever that type of partnership with her before. If he did this, would he be letting her in? Would he be acknowledging that bond of comradery between them? What if he let her in and then she was taken away from him? What would that do to him, them, by working together now?

“Open the portal.”

Another minute of hesitation. His jaw loosened and Sasuke took a nervous breath as he replayed her words over and over.

Relying upon your friends is not the same as using them.

Let us work together.

Become each other’s balance.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him.  “Open it.”

Sasuke’s tilted his head so that his hair fell away from the Rinnegan. His breathing turned shallow as he finally conceded and a black pinprick in the air around them began to expand. A sudden rush of energy flowed into his veins as black stripes began to spiral slowly up his arms. He looked at his teammate in amazement—at their joined hands now being wrapped together with bands of black chakra. It almost looked like they were being tied together.

When the markings reached his neck and crawled up his chin, Sasuke inhaled sharply, as if he were getting his first full gulp of fresh air since being in this damn place. His exhausted body welcomed the chakra, feasting on it as it had back in the tower. He flinched in self-repulsion, but Sakura breathed hard and directed more of her power into him. Where his body begged, her chakra was there to instantly feed it.

When the strips of charcoal reached his own forehead, Sasuke focused intently on the portal. It jumped in response to Sakura’s chakra, flaring and expanding large enough to finally walk through. He glanced back at her and noticed a sheen now coating her own forehead. That’s when Sasuke suddenly realized what she was doing.

The justu demanded chakra and she was acting as a direct current, bypassing Sasuke’s chakra entirely, not allowing any of his energy to be used, but hers only. She was sending it all—every bit of her own chakra to back the jutsu.  

Now in a sudden panic, Sasuke breathed “Stop. That’s enough.”

Sakura’s green eyes became unfocussed and her heartbeat quickened rapidly. Her breathing came in sharp inhales and exhales.

Yelling now, he warned, “Sakura! I said stop!” She wouldn’t let go of his hand.

Sakura wasn’t listening to him. She was dedicating her entire focus to the jutsu. Sasuke did the only thing he could think to do. He wrapped his fingers up and around the wrist of her clasping hand and pulled them through the portal.

[finefeatheredfriend]

Genocide! (the book. not like. actual genocide.)

Okay so it’s been a while since I posted one of my EDA reviews, and it’s been a while since I read this particular book (because I’ve been at a place where they don’t have wifi for about two months now so I couldn’t post it (since for some reason I always post these from the laptop but yeah ANYWAY.)) but here is another one of my weird reviews/liveblog things! 

This time, it’s Genocide! And I think, if I remember correctly, I liked this one. Well. I mean. Jo is in this one, so of course I liked it. Anyway! I’m gonna read these reactions I had while reading this book now (cause my memory is awful and I literally remember nothing except that Jo was in it lol) and then maybe I’ll be able to tell you how I liked it!

As usual, here are my favourite bits of reactions/quotes/scenes/impressions from when I read this, and the full liveblog will be under the cut! Enjoy my rambly thoughts!

AAAH the Doctor’s pretending he got his outfit from 1893 but Sam saw the label and knows it’s from a costume store I’m screaming

I love that Sam made a scaling system because every single situation with the Doctor is dangerous so the question is no longer ‘is this situation dangerous?’ but ‘how dangerous is this situation’ hahaha i love her

‘We all have to be daleks sometimes. It’s just a matter of knowing when you really don’t have a choice’ - Doctor (ooooh I love this line) 

“Do you know what it's like, Doctor? To watch them die, to hear them die, and know that there's nothing you can do to stop it?” STOP IT of course he knows!!! now I’m crying :(

[Cliff] LEFT JO???? who would ever want to leave JO??? I mean. now she’s finally free to marry sexy yates instead so I guess that’s fine BUT WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND

I know this was before storm warning came out and probably references something entirely different but still, THE UNCREATOR

wait a minute did jo just go and lift rowenna and is now running while carrying her??? uh she’s... strong

oh god how I hope there’s an easier alternative in which no species gets killed off :( ....... eileen this book is literally called genocide

“So you are human.' 'No, not exactly, but that doesn't matter.” Doctor... what... ‘not exactly’?

Jo and Sam have been alone for 6 days??? I mean, 5 and a half hours were bad for Rose, sure, but that has nothing on being stranded without the Doctor 2 million years in the past, in Africa, for six bloody days omg

aaaah the Doctor can hear Jo’s screams from millions of years in the future (Doctor x Jo confirmed)

I can’t believe Jo of all people would kill all those aliens! like... that’s genocide. just. I don’t believe it. not Jo. she’d never

Okay, so here’s my thoughts about the book: I loved it! The fact that we’ve got a non humanoid species here (that I at first thought were Nimons - imagine my disappointment when I found out they weren’t) is so interesting, learning all about them (they have a smell alphabet?? that’s so cool) is so... interesting (yeah, this book is interesting, I know I say that a lot lol). And Jo. asdfgdasflgadgs. I love her. Having her there definitely made the whole book better, though in my opinion I would have really enjoyed the book so much even if she weren’t in it. The only sad thing is that we didn’t get to see her off. She was just gone suddenly! But I loved the book nonetheless.

Okay, you know the drill. Under the cut you’ll find my unabridged reactions that I wrote down while reading! I bolded what I put in the highlights reel. 

okaaay this is interesting

I’m confused but it’s interesting

and I love that framing story line they’ve got going with that alien and the Doctor in what i think is a cell of some sort..?

ok I spoiled myself that jo is in this one (I was bummed that it wasn’t a surprise BUT I’m more excited that she even is in this book so I don’t care AAH MY WIFE IS IN THIS!!)

ok :/ so the aliens aren’t nimons :/

UNIT!!! I mean I don’t know what the alien’s plan is, but they mentioned UNIT!!

“more of his stuff was fake than he was generally prepared to admit” jfjdhdhdg

AAAH the Doctor’s pretending he got his outfit from 1893 but Sam saw the label and knows it’s from a costume store I’m screaming

aaaaah they mention my boy oscar wilde!!

“When he got there he looked over his shoulder and flashed her a smile. 'Guess.' No good, thought Sam. I've been out-cooled again. But I'll get him, one day. If it's the last thing I do.” jdhdhdhgd i love her (and him)

aw no his shoes being sucked into the swamp and he got really sad because grace gave him those shoes and now he wants to repair them at all costs!!

“Something was usually wrong. It was really a matter of scale. Sam had started to rate them in scores out of ten: for instance, (1) the Doctor had misdirected the TARDIS, (5) he'd landed them in the middle of a war zone, or (10) he'd accidentally destroyed the universe.” hahahaha and the situation they’re in is a 2.5, that doesn’t sound too bad haha

“Get back inside!' ordered the Doctor. 'I am inside,' said Sam simply. 'You're not.” Doctor i love you

okaaay we’re slowly raising the danger score point by point and are now at 3.5

hm ok so Sam determined that they are on earth where the invasion had already happened and humans are extinct just by seeing a river and thinking ‘oh yeah, could be the right size to be the thames’ like ??? how do you think you can say all that for sure from guessing that maybe that river you see there is a similar size to that of the Thames

‘even simplicity itself is never as simple as it seems’

oooh I wouldn’t want the Doctor to tell me off I couldn’t stand to have him be disappointed in me

‘We all have to be daleks sometimes. It’s just a matter of knowing when you really don’t have a choice’ - Doctor (ooooh I love this line)

“Wine's bad for your liver, you know.' Rowenna grinned at Julie. 'So are candy bars.' 'I ate a slice of pizza first!' 'Case proven.” I snorted

MY BABY

THEY’RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT JO

wait Rowenna was one of those people in the green death living with cliff????

flying lizards?? flying lizards????? you mean dragons??

earth reptile... a Silurian??

I love how this book is about non humanoid aliens, we rarely see that

“Do you know what it's like, Doctor? To watch them die, to hear them die, and know that there's nothing you can do to stop it?” STOP IT of course he knows!!! now I’m crying :(

JO

MY BABY

SHE!!!!

she’s here

finally

she has a son!! I mean we know she’s got a lot of grandkids but still!!

wait

“leaning across the cold sheets that she'd probably always think of as Cliffs side of the bed” this sounds like he died

he LEFT

he LEFT JO???? who would ever want to leave JO??? I mean. now she’s finally free to marry sexy yates instead so I guess that’s fine

BUT

who would leave jo??????

Cliff gave her an anniversary present AFTER HE LEFT HER??? what

BENTON

“ "Kilgai, Tanzania. Incident class N",' she read. 'What's class N?' 'They divide incidents up into Y for "Yes, it does immediately threaten the existence of the human race" and N for "No, it doesn't".” BENTON you... joker

oooh that’s a an interesting kind of book, these aliens have a smell alphabet? and read by sniffing or tasting the different scents..?

and the Doctor can read those books as well omg

the uNCREATOR

I know this was before storm warning came out and probably references something entirely different but still, THE UNCREATOR

wait but in storm warning they weren’t called tractites right

oh no those were triscele or whatever

oh I hate this

why do the tractites have to be so nice :( I don’t want them all to die :(

then again it’s a nice change away from the usual ‘these aliens are bad and that’s why we need to kill them’ that happens in all the other movies or shows

oh Sam can read those books too so apparently it’s not just a special power the Doctor has

please sam do NOT try to stop the Doctor from setting history right

yes those aliens are nice

but please

“A galaxy long, long ago and far, far away.” aaaah

“She wondered if she was walking into a trap. She'd always been good at that.” you’re surprisingly self aware jo

this is SUCH an interesting story?!?? like... kitig has to decide whether to kill the Doctor because he might destroy them all (which tbf the Doctor is actually planning to do) BUT THEN he decides to help him when he gets ill!!!

“Jo turned round, said calmly, 'Shut up, I'm talking to my friend,' then turned back to Rowenna. 'Don't worry about him, he's nobody. Have you seen the aliens yet?” Jo I fucking love you jsdjsjsggs

wait a minute did jo just go and lift rowenna and is now running while carrying her??? uh she’s... strong

oh god how I hope there’s an easier alternative in which no species gets killed off :(

eileen this book is literally called genocide

stop pretending everything is going to be fine

Jo is badass in this one and I love her

ARE THEY GONNA MEET NOW

I need the doctor and jo to meet

AAAAAH they really are heading for Africa too!!!!!! THEY’RE GOING TO MEET

the Doctor is wearing a white cloth sun-hat ahahahah

ok so both Sam and Jo are walking around the desert now and I’m guessing those two are going to meet first

aaaah the Doctor found rowenna and Julie!!!!

TRUST ME I’M A DOCTOR asdgdhhsgs why does he always have to say that haha

Awww he’s so happy that Jo is around there too

NOOOOOO ROWENNA

NOOO I was like ‘oh that’s jo saving Sam from the homo habilis right?? Hahaha!’ BUT IT’S THAT DICK JACOB

aw the Doctor buried them in the butterfly room

“So you are human.' 'No, not exactly, but that doesn't matter.” Doctor... what... ‘not exactly’?

“the floppy Indiana Jones hat and the purple striped pullover that looked ten years out of date, even for someone of Jo's advanced age” that sounds so like jo haha

“Yes, sorry, I do look a bit of a wreck. Don't worry, I can control the pain. Old Gallifreyan technique.” ooh another interesting bit of info about gallifreyan physiology - that is, if the Doctor isn’t lying to reassure Kitig he’s fine

Noooooo not the TARDIS!!!!!!

Jo and Sam have been alone for 6 days??? I mean, 5 and a half hours were bad for Rose, sure, but that has nothing on being stranded without the Doctor 2 million years in the past, in Africa, for six bloody days omg

Ha Sam, that teaches you to underestimate the absolute angel that is Jo Grant (don’t judge her by her clothes, Sam. this woman has lived on campsites and faced off aliens and is just overall an absolute angel.)

oh god I hate Jacob. but he’s surprisingly self aware (‘if humankind are all like me then no wonder their world will fall apart,’ he thinks while literally drinking an antelope’s blood directly from the neck)

NO JOOOO pls be alright aaah she just fell down the cliff????

aaaah there’s Sam and Theta written into the rock!!!! THETA!!!!

NOOOO SAM

don’t die please

I mean I kind of know you’re not going to die because I know you’ll be there for a bit longer

BUT STILL

DON’T DIE

oh no!!! the TARDIS is like she was in Father’s Day noooo

aaaah the Doctor can hear Jo’s screams from millions of years in the future (Doctor x Jo confirmed)

no

the TARDIS changed????? but she was perfect like that :(

oh wait hahahaha that was just Jo’s point of view it’s still the same thank god

and the vw beetle is just parked right there in the console room hahahahaha

“Outside, the Doctor was running down a grassy slope, fire exploding to the left and right of him. 'Usual situation,' said Jo wryly, running for the door.” jshajsghshsdha I love them

Noooooo axeman!!!!

Oh god Sam no

what have you done

Don’t just kill :(

oh no not Jo as well

I’m crying oh god JO

I can’t believe Jo of all people would kill all those aliens

like... that’s genocide

just. I don’t believe it. not Jo. she’d never

hehehe the empress reminds him of Davros

I love how he just whispers with Sam while the empress is speaking and clearly looking at them lol

aw kitig saved the world from the time tree

Sam you have to tell him!!! and not when he’s asleep!!! (what is it with people telling other people important things while that person is unconscious ugh!!)

wait what happened to jo?? we didn’t get to see her off!!!

And that’s all! Hope you enjoyed this!

[jaikrishnaponnappan]

The Last Harvest: A Sabbath, A Spiritual Renewal

Samhain is the last harvest. The blood harvest. The harvest that comes when the Queen of the Underworld appears in all Her glory to witness and lead the Dance Macabre, the dance of the dead. The harvest of slaughter.

All harvests gather death. But not all are of slaughter, that is, of the killing of animals and the preserving of meat. Not all are of the blood upon the ground, meeting the ichor of the gods, bubbling up in union.

All harvests are of death.

The grain harvest when the Dying God rests his head in the Goddess’ hand to Her sickle.

The fruit harvest when the apples hang heavy on the tree and children dance for Pomona.

And now the meat harvest. The one many of us don’t particularly want to think about, especially given how meat is “harvested” in Western culture.

In each case, life feeds on life. There is no other way for us heterotrophs to make it in the world. We feed on that which has fed on sun and water. We feed on that which has fed on the grasses and the grains. And sometimes we feed on the meat of animals who have eaten other animals.

Samhain is the Last Harvest.

The last harvest of the year is the last harvest against the cold of winter, coming to those in the British Isles, and to many others in other parts of the Northern Hemisphere. This last harvest is the last ritualized solar holiday of proud hope before the winter.

It is not the hope that the sun will come again. Those holidays are Yule and Imbolc. This is the holiday that says, “We will get through the dark times. We will.” This holiday expresses the insistent reality that the dark is already nipping at our heels, the water is already at our waists. Without setting aside September’s fruit and August’s grain, and now October’s meat, we won’t make it. We just won’t make it.

But there’s some echo under there of knowing that’s okay too. It’s okay not to make it. Somehow, as love and grief waltz together, it’s okay. After all, this is the time that acknowledges those who have been taken in the Queen of the Underworld’s harvest to herself. Those whom she frees to come near the Veil and dance with the living. The voices, the bodies of the living are the voices and the bodies of the dead. Cycles within cycles.

Our Ancestors are part of the harvest of life.

Our Ancestors are part of us. “We’re all ghosts. We all carry inside us the people who came before us.” Liam Callanan, The Cloud Atlas. So while our ancestors’ lives have been harvested, they, like every other single being on Earth, live on. Is it a paradox?

Some people say that one is not lost, gone, dead, until one’s name is forgotten. And so we do say the names of those who are important to us. Whose lives we have known. Those Ancestors of Blood, Adoption, and Spirit who have shaped us, made us who we are.

I say that one is never lost or gone.

Death is real, grief is real, and we may long for some moment with one who came before, or for knowledge of those whose names are lost to history. We may wish for the love of someone who never gave it. We may wish all kinds of things.

But we are all part of the Big Picture of existence, and we cannot escape it.

Hear me, I am a witch, and I do not want to escape the Wheel. I do not want to escape the Wheel of birth, growth, repose, death, decay, and birth again. I do not mean that I embrace classical reincarnation. I mean that I embrace (shudder the thought to say it so boldly?) what I understand to be the truth.

I mean all of this metaphorically, magically, and materially.

There is no escaping the Seventh Principle of Unitarian Universalism. We may choose whether or not to “affirm and promote” it, but we are caught up in “the interdependent web of existence of which we are all a part.” There is no rationally denying, and no metaphorical or magical need to.

Some of us try to avoid this reality by mummification or embalming. Still, Earth will out. She will have Her due, and none of us is apart from anything else, even when we seem to sit static in our caskets.

There are those like me who would prefer to (literally) push up daisies or fertilize trees or be tilled into rose gardens. We may prefer to express our belief in our inexorable interconnection. But it kind of doesn’t matter.

It kind of doesn’t matter because we are all always in it together as part of the Big Picture. There is no escape.

And so we gather for the last harvest and the last dance of the season, the dance of the dead, to say, Yes.

To say, “Yes, I know you, you Mighty Dead. You are still here and always will be. I am as dead as I am alive, and so are you.”

After all, we are like the sea, like the swamp, like the forest, things within us constantly being killed, dying, being born, changing, changing, changing. One of the things I love about all these places is how one can smell the dance of life and death in them. The undergrowth. The rotting trees. The source and return of Ocean. The seething living and dying of the bayou.

The trillions of bacteria that live in and one us make us who we are. The half-reality of consciousness makes us feel like individuals, but we are more great colonies, great crawling colonies of microbes that all allow us to be. Our mitochondria that used to be individual tiny beings. The bacteria that keep our guts in order. The MRSA that lives on our skin, always threatening to break in.

We are like the sea, the forest, the swamp.

We are like the desert, I’m sure, but having never spent any substantial time in one, I cannot say for sure. We are indeed like the eroding Appalachians, those old, old mountain-hills. We are always dying. We are always being born in new configurations, new ways.

And so Samhain tells us it’s okay to be living and dying. Because there is. No. Separation. There is loss, but it is the loss of consciousness, the loss of one version of reality, the loss of touch and awareness of presence.

As Shelley wrote, “If Winter comes, / Can Spring be far behind?”

That is what Samhain says. There needs to be winter, there needs to be spring. And we set by what is needful, and we know that there is always a deeper winter, a more joyful spring.

Because no matter what happens, we are all in it together, all part of the Big Picture.

If you would like more reflection on Samhain; our Ancestors of Blood, Adoption, and Spirit; and the legacy we leave when we, too, become Ancestors, please do go to The Way of the River and look into Through the Veil, my Samhain weekend retreat.

[az-valentine]

Entry 1: Pennywise [AU]

July 2nd, 2018 

In light of recent events – the nature of which I refuse to explain to people who simply couldn't understand – I've been inspired to record a few passages for Humanity to eventually stumble upon. Despite what you may know about me, however little that may be, I assure you, there is far more to me than what meets the eye. You probably know me to be an unpredictable, animalistic Eldritch Abomination that comes crawling out of the darkest pits of your worst nightmares – you are correct. However, I'm far more complicated than that. Yes, I eat flesh and feed on Fear, as it's necessary for my survival. I didn't choose to be this way, it's just how I was created to be. 

Outside of that, I'm actually a fan of your classic literature, like Shakespeare, Twain, Poe, and Lovecraft. I also enjoy taking long walks to admire your older European architecture, and your bigger, more lush and diverse botanical gardens. I don't often leave Maine, let alone the Continental United States, but when I do, it's always a treat. My Eldritch Brethren usually don't care much – or at all – about what Humanity has accomplished in its pathetically short time, but I watched your earliest ancestors crawl out of the ancient muds of this planet, and I'm positive I'll watch you all return to the weeds in due time. 

My past is better left being known only by those closest to me, and left up for interpretation to everyone else. That being said, I feel strangely obligated to offer you a word of warning – don't end up like the protagonists of most Lovecraft stories. Don't go digging for information you have no business knowing. What you know, and what you think you know about Fear, hardly even scratches the surface of the unnamable terrors that lie beneath and beyond your fragile mental barriers. The depths of Madness are not meant to be explored by Mortal minds, for they were never designed to be capable of handling the journey. 

Some have tried, and nearly all have ended up a writhing, unintelligible, gibbering mess before their inevitable, horrific deaths. Some have wound up on that Path without even intending to, and fell victim to similar fates. If there's one thing we have in common, it's our tendency to be curious creatures. I definitely understand the desire to learn about the unknown. I cannot stop you from attempting to uncover lost knowledge and hidden truths, and I can't honestly say I care whether or not you listen to me. However, I still feel compelled to advise against it. Like me, though, you'll do what you please, regardless of the risks. 

Moving forward, those of you that know of me know me to be a Shifter, a being that is capable of taking the form of whatever I want. I'm like a Mimic, but far more interesting, and intelligent. I'm also like Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, except I take no pleasure in gaining legions of followers and spreading Madness. I prefer to be left alone most of the time – to Hunt, eat, sleep, and explore as I choose. Earth isn't the only planet I've been to, but it's definitely one of my favorites. If I wake up during one of my sleep cycles, I'll sometimes take that opportunity to go somewhere new and different, or old and familiar. 

I've seen everything from the bustling cities of Tokyo and Arcturus Prime, to the noxious swamps of Beldron 4, the scorching, temple and monolith-spotted deserts of Alkh'tktuuhl, the ravenous raggle-trees of Nillub, and even the turbulent oceans, black forests, and numerous mountain ranges of an unknown terrestrial behemoth, floating aimlessly through the inky depths of Oblivion. One thing most don't know about me, is that Alkh'tkhtuuhl holds a very special place in my Heart. Those that know the reason why, though, I can count on one hand. 

Unbeknownst to Humanity, Arcturus Prime is still thriving to this day – and if rumors hold true, the Arcturians eventually want to introduce themselves. Don't worry, they're incredibly friendly. In my experiences with them, they're often a little shy, so don't do anything stupid when they get here. You'll need their help if you want your species to survive, thrive, and save the only planet you currently have to live on. They'll slowly work you into the galactic community, and help you learn how to integrate with other people from other planets, as well as how to survive off of your home world. 

Everyone that lives long enough will go through a Great Change at certain points in their lives – this trait is not unique to Humans, or any other Mortal species within the Multiverse, but is present among all sentient Life that has evolved far enough to be capable of experiencing these changes. Even I, the Prince of Fear, have gone through it several times throughout my existence. Indeed, many see me as just a highly intelligent, impossibly powerful beast that's merely good at acting, but I too am a person. 

I am not at liberty to speak of my true origins, or what came before, but I do have quite a few stories I'm allowed to tell. For the sake of brevity – I could write an entire series about my life – I will stick to telling only a few tales that I hold near and dear to my Heart. It's not every day a Mortal gets to learn such personal things about an Eldritch Being, let alone directly from them, so consider this a little gift to Humanity. I still take what I need to sustain myself, but who would I be if I didn't give back every now and then? 

Don't think of me as just a monster – I may be greater than anything a Human could ever hope to become, and I may have needs that cause a conflict of Morality between us, but it doesn't mean we don't share similarities. I don't know why I feel the need to say it, but just like you, I have my weaknesses. I have sore spots, bad memories, times of self-destruction, and an unhealthy relationship with self-hatred. Oh, yes...I can be as vulnerable as the Mortals whose lives I claim. It's not all bad, though. As I stated earlier, some of my guilty pleasures include literature, architecture, and traveling. I also enjoy attending plays, Broadway shows, and operas. At heart, I am an artist, and someone who appreciates the natural beauty to be found spread out across the Universe. 

In fact, for as long as I can remember, I've always taken part in the various cultures' Arts in some way or another. My numerous homes have always had a collection of writings, paintings, and props found in certain visual productions that had struck my fancy. I would occasionally write my own works, such as poetry and prose, plays, and even some music, and then offer it to Yog-Sothoth for his Archives. On top of that, I would often disguise myself as a native of a planet, and audition to play a role in something – not once was I turned down. Who was the best Carmen? Me. The greatest Figaro? Me! 

By now, you must be perfectly aware of the sizeable amount of differences between me, and the Being you've always known me to be. There is an explanation for this, yes, but I struggle to believe that you could fully comprehend what I'm about to describe. If I only lay out the basics for you, there's a good chance you'll be able to follow along. I've made mention of the Multiverse, yes? It's bigger, stranger, more complex, and more terrifying than you may have previously believed it to be. Infinities on top of Infinities, spanning in Infinite directions, through every Dimension, and every conceivable and inconceivable possibility happening all at once, at all possible times. It's a lot to take in, and I urge you not to try and understand it completely. It'll just drive you Insane, like many others before you. 

Back to the point at hand, though...I am not the same Pennywise you've known, as I'm from a different Universe. Who I am, as well as my Past, Present, and Future, have been and always will be completely different from the version of me you're familiar with. I've mastered the Art of Transcending Time and Space, and am able to move freely between Universes. The conditions of my state of existence, though, must remain a closely guarded secret for the time being. Let's just say that I've made promises I can't afford to break, to someone that makes me look tiny, powerless, and insignificant by comparison. 

Perhaps "completely different" was a poor choice of words. If I'm not careful, I'll become the Thing born of your worst nightmares. What's worse? I could get stuck like that, and require another Purification to set me straight. Yes, a Purification...something that all of the Dark and Twisted Souls must be willing to subject themselves to if they wish to enter the Light. Ugh! I shudder to think about going through such a painful experience for a second time. The agony is only temporary, and it melts away into a warm tingle, but it's still horribly unpleasant at first. I won't try to sway you one way or the other, but it was worth it for me. I was fine doing my own thing, and being by myself, but the opportunity was too great to pass up. 

I'd rather not get into the details of the situation, but I regained something I'd lost billions of years ago, only because I chose to go through the process of Great Change. I haven't been happy in billions of years, but I am now, and I'm never giving this up. To be perfectly honest, I only went through this change last October, and so I'm still adjusting to this new Way of Life I've chosen. I may or may not have snacked on a child recently...don't look at me like that, I was starving! And without a long sleep to fall back on anymore, I must feed at least once a week now, depending on the size of the person. 

I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. I've been targeting only the worst of the worst, so as long as you're not a piece of shit person, one worthy of being scared to the point of shitting yourself and then getting eaten alive, you have nothing to Fear from me. Except maybe the occasional scare for my amusement, and to satisfy my need for Fear. 

 July 3rd, 2018 

This entry has already gotten long, and I'm afraid I've run out of Time to tell you a story. Forgive me, I didn't think my introduction would wind up being so long. I'm afraid I have some bad news...I'm set to depart on a series of Hunts for the next three to seven months, and I'm unsure of when I'll be able to continue. This was sprung upon me at the last minute, and I'm in no position to decline this mission. 

Know this, Humanity: I will return, and in no less than excellent health. Chances are, I won't be hungry when I finally make it back. However, don't think for a moment that I won't continue to Hunt the scum of your societies, one by one...both to fulfill my needs for survival, and to make good on my Sacred Oath. 

 Until next Time, 

                  Pennywise 

[insanescriptist]

So, what do you and Umei think is the main distinction between Sky and Earth Flames? And any ideas about how they came to be? Though they're source may differ depending on which fanfic'vsrse it's from, so for clarity I'm mostly asking about Black Sky and Xanxus' Adventures in Parenthood Piracy.

Well, there are differences between Black Sky and XAiPP; lots of Izzy’s wild theorizations of Flames first appear in XAiPP and were further refined over the next few years with Umei as Black Sky progressed. Izzy kinda needs to rework sections of XAiPP but Izzy would need some time to do it in and Izzy is generally pressed enough because work is always short-handed don’t ask which is good for Izzy’s paycheck but less so for Izzy’s stress levels and free-time. Please don’t ask about the customers, please don’t.

Now then, canonically Flames are Genetic. So how Flames came to be is Genetic.

Which means that having Earth Flames are Sky Flames is by genetics. But you can also test for Flames by some method that’s never explained beyond the ‘learning to spark Ring,’ or ‘obvious unique personality trait.’ The latter of which Izzy now considers less reliable; socialization, background and culture all matter, okay? Anon, please pester me again about updating my Flame Lore.

More to the point, there’s this rather giant plot hole called the Future Arc. Where Flames are a lot more common knowledge and studied. To the point that the wavelengths for the different Flames can be harnessed individually to power Boxes.

If I were a megolomanic, determined to re-write reality, then I’d want some unique troubleshooters being enforcers ie Earth Flames. That Byakuran didn’t -and man, what a missed foreshadow opportunity was that- means Byakuran either didn’t bother with them or had killed the Simon off. And also possible is that Verde and the other two scientist/engineers of the Box Weapon Trio never encountered Earth Flames despite lots of testing. And this is if you play the Future Arc/Saga straight as ‘true as depicted’ and not as something else.

Which either means that Earth Flames are ridiculously rare or that people don’t understand that they exist as separate Flames from the Sky Spectrum. Which is very plausible and likely to have happened in canon until the Simon came out and beat their faces in with evidence otherwise.

Izzy offers two pieces of evidence for Mafia Unawares

1. Wrath Flames

2. Fuuta’s manipulation of gravity

Now, there are only two people with Wrath Flames in KHR; as said before, you’re pretty much born with what you got because genetics are a bitch that way. Those two are Ricardo and Xanxus. Now we don’t actually know how Ricardo and Giotto are related but clearly Ricardo takes after the other side of the family since he’s not blond or Giotto hit the recessive lottery. We also don’t know how Xanxus is related to anybody outside of his mother but we do know he has red eyes.

You know who else ALL have red eyes? The Simon. Wrath Flames being a combination of Sky and a specific Earth Flame makes sense. Also Izzy would like to see more Xanxus and Simon interaction in the ‘how the hell are we related’ and obviously the ‘you can’t help who you’re related to’ and ‘who the fuck fathered such a bastard like you?’ Because Enma’s parents were murdered in Italy, so there was likely to be someone that Daemon helped into the grave that probably fathered Xanxus.

Not Storm, not Swamp but that unnamed Flame that Yamamoto’s fellow baseballer uses that gouges and almost kills Yamamoto? Yeah, that one. The one without a name, officially.

Disintegration at its base is separating molecular bonds by adding energy; basically, setting it on fire. Those sort of gouges in the locker room in both living and nonliving objects without a physical direction to create all of them?

…

Yeah, that’s not Disintegration but it is a whole lot cleaner and faster than Disintegration and also of a much wider area; that old hunter’s adage of one shot, they got it, two shots they’re putting it out of its misery and three shots is them hitting air? That locker room was a mess and it was quick; the mess would have been far worse if Yamamoto had fought back and a lot more spread out if he tried to run. Yamamoto got hit with the Flame-equivilant of buckshot. Buckshot that rips holes in people and things like the magic-bullet it is.

Still, most people in the mafia go ‘you have to be born with it,’ or ‘it’s a special mix of Flames.’ Which yes, it is, but probably not Storm Flames. It’d leave different marks. Compare Xanxus vaporizing a classroom in an instant to how a Storm’s Flames have to ‘eat’ through things.

Now Fuuta’s manipulation of gravity is just a ‘quirk’ of him using his Ranking Powers, according to the manga. Which isn’t as accurate on Rainy Days, for some inexplicable reason. According the the manga.

Or it is, because for all that Earth is said to be ‘Gravity’ what it really is, is Playing with Magnetic Fields and Charges. Because as Magneto, magnet trains and rail guns prove, magnetic fields and charges can lift ‘objects.’ Especially if they’re conductive. And the human body is a conductor and people can ‘feel’ strong enough magnetic forces.

Now Fuuta ranks people, so he has to get that data from somewhere. Fuuta says it’s a ‘ranking planet’ but really, he’s a kid; he doesn’t know for sure and he can’t remember the data after a ranking if he doesn’t write it down. What’s more likely is that Fuuta is using Earth’s magnetic field to pass ‘data’ on to him, which is then processed in an Altered State of Mind and then organized into ‘ranks.’

Altered States of Mind effecting memories is a known thing. Basically it’s the ‘when you’re sober you don’t remember it but you do once you’re drunk again.’ Or high. Or sleep-deprived. Basically if it’s not your normal state, due to pain meds or whatever, you’re not going to be likely to remember it because your brain put it somewhere strange. But once you’re off your rocker again, brain remembers where it put it, because guess where it’s going to put new memories? Strange place again.

Now Fuuta’s ‘requirements’ for a Ranking are a little strange. He has to have met the person he’s ‘ranking’ to do them. Basically, Fuuta’s learning your own specific ‘magnetic aura’ to have something to compare to. And he can do so rapidly and accurately forever afters. No matter in terms of strength, wealth, intelligence or personality.

Fuuta’s a little scary like that, okay? Fuuta’s hacking the earth for all your files. Fuuta’s lack of accuracy when it rains is because the rain is washing out all those ions in the atmosphere; those same ions he’s using to transmit data around the world. It’s why Fuuta can even tell it’s raining when he’s in a windowless underground bunker. He basically gets hit with radio static and Lag.

As TYL!Fuuta goes out and about with Bianchi without a Flame Ring to protect himself with in a ‘future’ where even the lower-ranking ‘enemy officers’ have Boxes and Flames… it either says that Fuuta’s relying on Bianchi entirely for protection or that Fuuta has his own methods despite the lack of Ring and Box. Not that Fuuta ever fought, but it’d be interesting to see how he’d do so. Because not learning how is just Stupid, especially when the Vongola are being hunted down and you know it.

TL;DR - the mafia’s aware that some individuals have Odd Flames. They’re just not aware enough to both realize and weaponize it beyond an individual and personal basis ie X-guns Xanxus made for self compared to Bester’s roar of Box Animal made by Verde. So they don’t realize the Earth Spectrum exists except as Odd Flame/Quirk/some unexplained Flame Thing due to odd wavelength which varies between people anyway. This is XAiPP’s perspective because the wavelengths are there-ish, but the science is still shaky on the exact differences; mostly due to lack of study but also because rarity. Again, Byakuran didn’t use/bother with Earth Flames so is stupidly rare.

…

Which is something that is both canon and that Black Sky supports.

Black Sky however explains the difference.

You know that old elements diagram? The Greek one? Have a stylized one, from an image that Izzy picked from a google search.

Basically, Sky Flames are air-natured, and Earth Flames are earth-natured; hence the names because Sky sounds better than Air. Individual Flames can be found along this spectrum with a bit of common sense and thinking.

Izzy and Umei have discussed where exactly each would fall, but it’s pretty much common sense.

Like Storm is most Fire, Rain is most Water and Lightning is most Air. Sun and Sky fall on the Fire side while Mist and Cloud fall on the Water side. Or something to that effect; you can quibble on the placement on the Fire-side of Air and which is Most Air without much issue beyond someone’s say-so. Izzy’s just saying that Lightning is Most Air because one of the main theories of How to Make Lightning is that it’s oppositely charged particles in the air. Therefore is least ‘dense.’ Or why Lightning’s property of Hardness makes no sense as it is not physical itself but why it makes good sense in a shield so long as you don’t overload it.

On the Earth Side of things, Earth is Most Earth. Glacier, Swamp and Forest would be on the Water Side and Desert, officially unnamed Flame and Mountain on the Fire side.

Now, since this isn’t really a spoiler… a lot of magical enclaves have more Earth-spectrum individuals because genetics influence Flames. A smaller gene-pool means less of a chance of traits ie Earth Flames being bred out of said gene-pool.

Now Izzy is going to look over the chapter Umei just sent and go to bed. It’s like four am and Izzy has plans for once she gets up. Plans that do not involve work for once.

[queennicoleinboots]

Vegan Taco Mac with Count Macrula and Count Macula, Jr., part 8.5

A/N: Stupid shit, a lot of talk about video games: Dauntless, World of Warcraft, Black Desert Online, geekery, featuring Cutie Pie the Streamer and R.O.B the Nintendo robot character, spilling lima beans

Count Macrula, Count Macula, Jr., FreeLee the Banana Girl, and I returned from Publix and saw Joebear and the spirit of Colonel America smashing the TVs. Joebear had anger issues because he lost to Hecarim in League of Losers too many times. He switched over to playing Dauntless.

FreeLee the Banana Girl saw the TVs being destroyed and was pleased.

"Send FreeLee the Banana Girl to the heavens! She is done here!" Count Macrula shouted as lightning shot out of the palms of his hands.

FreeLee the Banana Girl floated to heaven. Everyone noticed, nodded, and then went on with his or her day.

Joebear then grabbed a TV, walked outside, and took a dump on the TV. I got excited and joined him outside.

Tyler1, Joebear, the cast of PeeWee Herman, Paul the Goat, Patches, Lindsay, Prince Carrington, and Nugget screamed. The Grinch hobbled up to Count Macula, Jr.'s castle and grumbled.

Count Macrula sang in dark angelic language before he shouted, "HOOOMMEEE!!!!" in a baritone language. A winter wonderland was blanketing the inside of Count Macula, Jr.'s family of gray bears' castle. A gust of snow entered the windows of the castle and burst them open dramatically.

We were all of a sudden surrounded by great high cathedral ceilings topped with snow. Count Macula, Jr.'s family photos, including his long lost cousin's sister's brother's former college roommate, whom he mentioned was absolutely nobody to him back in Swamp Ass With Bears when he was still Colonel Mac, had Christmas ornaments and Happy New Year lights surrounding them.

Count Macula, Jr. himself began to change again. His gray hair now was white, so he was a white bear. He also had bat wings and even sharper teeth.  "Coooool!!!! Cool! Cool! Cool! Cool! Cool! Cool!" he shouted as his high-pitched Southern voice echoed in the castle.

"WOW!!! This kitchen looks Santa's workshop on crack!!!" Lindsay shouted as she poked her head in the kitchen door. We heard the jingling of bells. "I didn't know Count Colonel Mac lived in a winter wonderland castle! Wow!!!." She was wearing a blue princess gown today.

We will dub her Princess Lindsay Carrington. 

Count Macula, Jr. skipped over to her and stared at her. "Dear Princess, my name is no longer Count Colonel Mac," he said.

Princess Lindsay Carrington stared at the white cub before her. "Excuse me. I was addressing Count Colonel Mac. I know not of whom thou art," she spoke as she chewed on a corn tortilla chip.

"I am Count Macula, Jr! I have become a white cub due to 2021 coming to town. I am a vambear," the white cub said as he looked directly at Princess Lindsay Carrington.

"So you're telling me that you were formerly known as Colonel Mac, then Count Colonel Mac and that you are now Count Macula, Jr.?" Princess Lindsay Carrington asked.

"Yes," Count Macula, Jr. said. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!"

"So much can happen in a grocery shopping trip!" Princess Lindsay Carrington said dramatically.

Patches, Princess Lindsay Carrington's cat, walked in the kitchen and meowed loudly. She shook the whole fucking castle. Snow fell to the ground.

"JEE WHIZ!!! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Count Macula, Jr. shouted like Tyler1 as he skipped in the kitchen. He had a widow's peak and intense brown eyes. Needless to say, he had a set of lungs on him.

"Are you Count Macula, Jr.?" Patches asked.

"YES!" Count Macula, Jr. shouted. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. We juuuuusttt went over this!"

Joebear, Colonel America's spirit, Count Macrula, Mr. Williamson, Princess Lindsay Carrington, Kendrick, Pauno, and Peter's therapist, the cast of PeeWee Herman, the Grinch, and I started cooking the vegan taco mac.

Colonel America's spirit wavered in the air. "I have returned to fill an important role in this story. I am the logic in this otherwise completely illogical nonsensical saga," he announced as he began to boil the canned beans.

"THERE BETTER NOT BE LIMA BEANS IN THERE!" Count Macrula shouted. Then, he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, "Not to mention, you fulfill the Colonel role in these covulted stories." as he was washing the spinach. He laughed a boisterous evil vampire laugh.

"Where are the avocados?" Mr. Williamson asked. "We're supposed to have guacamole with vegan Taco mac."

"Says whhoooooooo??? Yiiiickkkkk!!!" Count Macula, Jr. said.

"Agreed. Fuck avocados. Worst fruit ever. Should be abolished," I said.

"Disagreed. The only thing worse than an avocado is a lima bean," Count Macrula said. He shuddered. "The horror!"

A random bear jumped in the kitchen and said, "I brought lima beans for the vegan taco mac with Count Macrula-" He spilled lima beans all over the floor.

Count Macrula screamed and used red eye rays to disintregrate that poor bear and the lima beans.

I chuckled and continued to chop up peppers and onions.

"So are you not even allowed to bring lima beans in the kitchen?" Reba the Mail Lady asked as she brought a bunch of cans of lima beans into the kitchen.

Count Macrula shot his death rays at Reba the Mail Lady and disintregrated her. Lima beans then exploded out of the cans and all over the kitchen. "Aaaaaahhhhhh!!! The horror!!!!" Count Macrula shouted as he shot death rays out of his eyes at each and every goddamned lima bean that had the misfortune of being in that kitchen. "Get out of here, you damn dirty beans!!!" He shot lasers everywhere and disintegrated parts of our bodies that were near lima beans. My right ulna hasn't been the same since.

Princess Lindsay Carrington started rinsing the rice for the rice cooker. "That answers our question. Now if I may ask, can we even mention Lima-"

Count Macrula was quickly shooting the death rays in her direction.

"Lima, Peru! It's one of my favorite cities to visit. I say!" Princess Lindsay Carrington said as she was dramatically trying to catch her breath.

Count Macrula then smiled widely and said, "Why yes! That is one of my favorite cities! You can mention that all you like!" he said as he washing the lettuce with a huge smile on his face.

A female goat stared at him in concern as she was boiling the whole golden kernel corn.

I laughed as a response to the trauma that just occurred.

"Did you know avocados are good?!" Peter shouted as he poked his head in the kitchen.

I growled as I threw the knife I was using to chop up peppers and onions at Peter's head. "Bastard," I muttered. I shot death rays at Peter and missed. "Bastard."

Peter left and started laughing.

"Wow baebae!" Joebear said as he put the macaroni in the boiling water. He set the timer for 10 minutes before doing a sexy bear dance.

"No avocados for me! I didn't buy any!" I said as I growled and continued to chop peppers and onions.

PeeWee Herman picked up the knife, did his typical laugh, and did a goofy walk in the kitchen. He washed the knife before chopping up the tomatillos.

Miss Oreo meowed before she jumped off the window sill in the kitchen. How she was unscathed, I couldn't figure it out.

Pauno then walked in the kitchen. "For people who like guacamole or tacos while they wait, I shall make them rain from the sky!" he announced. "And cue the naked chicks and the riced cauliflower for low carb diets!"

"Thank you," Mr. Williamson said. "Oh. Excuse me. I spoke too soon."

Vampiresses, snow ladies, werewolf women, cat women, and naked lady goats and elven women flooded the castle.

Pauno then walked to the living room and threw his hands in the air. Lightning came out of them as he brought down guacamole, Mexican salsa, nacho chips, riced cauliflower, and many napkins. Everyone in the living room cheered.

Mexican salsa music started playing in the background. Vampires, werewolves, cats, goats, elves, and snowpeople began to dance.

That, of course, was when Count Macrula's phone began to ring. "WHAT IS IT?!" he shouted as he was in the middle of chopping tomatoes at lightning speed. "I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF TRYING A LOW CARB DIET. ATKINS IS MY IDOL!!!!"

"THE IT OFFICE IS ON FIRE!" an equally loud woman shouted over the phone.

Count Macrula then started laughing as his ass off as he threw his head back. I could tell he was sick of working. "Let it burn. Fuck 'em. The Gwinnett County Fire Department would never understand the intracies of a low carb diet!!!"

"I CAN'T QUENCH THESE FUCKING FLAMES. I ALREADY PEED DURING MY LUNCH BREAK! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AT WORK TODAY! I DON'T WANT TO TRY YOUR LOW CARB DIET!!!!" the loud woman shouted.

"Not that I'm aware of. If you would have tried a low carb diet, you would remembered to specifically schedule me for work," Count Macrula said as he raised his eyebrow and chopped the cilantro. "Morpheus, put this cilantro in the pico de gallo!"

"Apparently you will today. All of Gwinnett County is on fire, and we are short staffed! AND I DON'T CARE ABOUT A LOW CARB DIET! QUENCH THESE FLAMES BEFORE EVEN MORE HELL BREAKS LOOSE!!!!" the loud woman said with a sigh.

Count Macrula sighed. "Why should I be concerned?" He then laughed. "But, yes. Let me wash my hands and put a Dracula mask on. I'll be right over!" he said.

"Halloween's over, you asshole! So is Thanksgiving and so is Christmas, as a matter of fact," the loud woman shouted. "It's 2021 already. Where the fuck have you been?"

"IN A FREEZER!"Count Macrula screamed. He hung up and then screamed again. The vegan Taco Mac was done in a jiffy as a result, like gluten-free low-carb Jiffy cornbread mix. He moved time forward by an hour. Then he returned to normal. "Duty calls," he said as he then flew out of the castle and had the face of Count Dracula.

"What if I told you that you forgot to consider those of us with high blood pressure and until riced cauliflower was a menu item in Chipotle Mexican Grill, you forgot to consider those of us on a low-carb diet?" Morpheus asked as he was preparing the pico de gallo.

Literally everyone stared at Morpheus. Count Macrula's face appeared on the wall and just stared at him. He was trying to shoot death lasers at Morpheus, but his physical body was trying to fly back to the office.

"How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story? How many dietary restrictions are we going to have in this fucking story?" Count Macula, Jr. asked.

"No meat. No other animal products. Low sodium. Low gluten. Low carb. Low sugar. Real ingredients. Added hormones. And... limited advocado?" Peter said aloud before he shouted and threw his hands up dramatically, "I DON'T KNOW! I CAN'T FUCKING DO MATH!!!!!!!"

"NO LIMA BEANS!" Count Macrula shouted as his eyes had fire as pupils. He was the mirror on the kitchen wall. He was the fairest of them all.

"Would that make it ten dietary restrictions?" Pauno asked as he brought down low sodium chips, low sodium salsa, low sodium guacamole, and low carb taco shells with no salt added. "Kind of like the 10 commandments. Coincidence! I THINK NOT!" The other Greek Gods sang in the background as he spoke with conviction.

"Yes!" Count Macrula shouted. The vibrations of his voice knocked down a bowl of guacomole. "I don't think it's a coincidence, either. Hhhmmmmmmmm!!!!!"

"Goddammit!" Pauno said as he used more energy to create a table that only had bowls of chips and bowls of guacomole on it.

Paul the Goat bleated as he was jacking off. "I'm at a party, JENNA!!! You have a trust fund.... You can go to parties. Why is it my fault the Bank of the Ozarks Credit Card isn't paid off?!.... And? It's under your name!.... WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?! THERE IS GOING TO BE A GREAT RESET AT THE END OF THE MONTH.... LOOK IT UP ON WORLD ECONOMIC FORUMS DOT COM!!!! THEY TELL YOU ON THEIR WEBSITE... I'M NOT MAKING UP SHIT!!!" he shouted as his blue eyes were bugged out of his head. He bleated for twenty-one minutes straight.

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "That's why I ain't EVER getting married," he commented.

"My marriage is fucked up sometimes, too," Joebear said. He was mixing all of the ingredients of Vegan Taco Mac together as his bear booty bounced in the air.

"Yes, you act ridiculous, too, Boo," I said as I smacked his ass as hard as I could.

"Pssh! OWWWW!!!! Bae that hurt!!!! Yeah, okay! You're the one who almost added black beans to the Taco Mac last time and thought about forcing me to eat that shit!" Joebear said with a long-winded growl. He then washed his paws.

(The shit that goes on in food preparation would mortify people if they knew about it. I used to work at Chipotle Mexican Grill back in 2014. I am an expert on the business that happened there.)

"Baby, I add all the ingredients together-" I said.

Joebear interrupted me with a growl as he dried his paws with a paper towel. "No!"

"I say! May I please have an extra side of black beans?" Prince Oliver, Werewolf of London asked in his. black pleather thong. He was a great prince who I served on Sunday afternoons.

"Yes, you may!" Princess Lindsay Carrington said as she served him a side dish of black beans.

"Thank you, kind woman," he said as he started to eat.

"You are welcome, kind sir," Princess Lindsay Carrington said.

"Ahhhhhh!!!!! A man from the United Kingdom entered a kitchen in Untied States of America! He may be infected with the zombie virus!!!!!" PeeWee Herman screamed as he frantically threw the chopped tomatillos in the freezer. "Protect the food!!! Protect the refried beans!!!!" He was frantically putting prepared food in the freezer.

"A zombie werewolf. Sounds about right for 2021. He may radiate us all and turn us into the teenage mutant ninja turtles. I just hope he doesn't make us look like the demons in the Michael Bay movie. That was a disgrace! Ruined my childhood," I said.

"If we don't put the refried beans away, they'll be RADIATED beans! Holy Shit!" PeeWee Herman screamed as he tried to escape the kitchen through the castle window. He remembered to put his mask on (a face that looked like his) before he successfully jumped out of the window.

The remaining cast of PeeWee Herman screamed in agony as they ran around the castle in terror before they, too, put their masks on and jumped out of the window.

"Oh God! Who cares? Refried beans look out something that came out of an asshole!" Joebear yelled. "Fuck it. I'm done. I'm traumatized. I'm playing a game of Dauntless. Fuck this shit. I'm not putting on a mask. I'm not social distancing. Fuck you. "

I cracked up as I made bowls of vegan Taco Mac. 

"Just in case there are assholes who like radiated refried beans," Pauno said before he brought refried beans from the heavens. "Low sodium, low carb, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, vegan, organic, made in Heaven, heavy with hormones, and produced in Greece, freshly microwaved at 1200 watts."

Paul the Goat bleated as he hung up his phone before adding radiated refried beans to his vegan Taco Mac. He even added his own goat milk to the Taco Mac. The balance of the world was thrown off because the Taco mac was no longer vegan. He looked at his cell phone and bleated. "WHY ARE THERE 20 messages from politicians in my inbox????!!!!"

As a result, Count Macula, Jr.'s face ended up on eight walls of the castle. One of his faces ended up right next to the picture of the long lost cousin's sister's brother's former college roommate, whom he mentioned was absolutely nobody to him back in Swamp Ass With Bears. Count Macula, Jr. spoke in stereo. "WHY ARE THERE REFRIED BEANS IN MY CASTLE? WHY ARE THEY SENDING ME POLITICAL ADVERTISEMENTS?! MY PARENTS ALREADY VOTED STRAIGHT TICKET REPUBLICAN! WE DON'T WANT THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE IN AMERICA!!!!"

"Because they are a Mexican food," Pauno said. "They're there. Also, I agree. I voted straight ticket Republican. I don't want Rome to govern Greece."

"I will allow it the radiated refried beans time, but never again," Count Macula, Jr. said in stereo. "I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again. I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again. I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again. I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again. I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again. I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again. I will allow the radiated refried beans this time, but never again."

Count Macula, Jr. repeated himself 64 times. How obnoxious! Eight Count Macula, Jrs. saying the same thing eight times equals 64 times. He was ready to make that 512 times.

The computer Joebear was sitting at caught on fire and exploded. "My frame feels fried," he said as he stared at the flames emerging from the computer before Kissy jumped in his lap. "And, I am going to purge my mailbox of political ads."

I laughed. "I don't know what's going on. I haven't known what's going on for the past two years. I have been writing the same story 512 times, and I'm still not done with it. This is so stupid," I said with a laugh as I playbeat my bear. "I, too, grow tired of the political ads in my mailbox."

"It sounds like you need a raid therapist," Joebear said as he watched the World of Warcraft unfold in Count Macula, Jr.'s castle. "And I need a better group. What a bunch of scrubs."

"THERE WERE FIVE IDENTICAL FLIERS IN MY MAILBOX!!! I AM ONLY GOING TO READ ONE. I WILL PURGE MY MAILBOX OF THESE POLITICAL PIECES OF TOILET PAPER!!!! THERE WERE 20 TOTAL!!!" Count Macrula said as his face on the wall blew fire into the castle. He melted a couple of snowpeople.

Pauno laughed. "Does anyone actually give a shit about radiated refried beans right now?" he asked. "Also, these state is America is decadent. Full of Marxists. May God strike down these evil men in power!"

Before the rest of us screamed, Count Macula, Jr. screamed "Yes!" 512 times. Count Macrula refried and radiated the beans again with his breath of fire.

We heard a bunch of random angry gamers on Cutie Pie's stream shouting swear words at the Giant Count Macula, Jr. raid boss and bitching about politics. Count Macula, Jr. grew to be 30 feet tall. The fuck did we put in the low carb vegan Taco Mac?

Lifeskillers get to be pussies while the grunts take all the risks and make no money in World of Warcraft or Black Desert Online. Even in video games, no one is compensated correctly. Working for someone in America doesn't pay enough for anyone to make bills unless you are a lucky person who works for the corrupt government. And even then the government doesn't compensate correctly because they don't compensate for the mental stress they put their citizens and workers under. Their servers suck and take a shit. Doing your own business is the only way to have any sanity whatsoever.

"Are we getting on VR?" Cutie Pie asked.

"YES!" Tyler1 shouted. "It's for alcoholics and losers!"

"I'M A LOSER!" Peter screamed angrily as he got off the couch he was on.

The screen turned black. Joebear growled and complained that his eyes were sore. His eyes were watering.

Angry gamers were just chattering like hell.

A chubby man in a cat suit meowed loudly as he flew through a window next to one of Count Macula, Jr.'s faces. "I'm a hungry cat in the night, looking for food. And perhaps..." he said as he raised his black eyebrows and widened his blue eyes. "Something else!"

"I'm horny! Bbbbbaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!" BioNHack, a goat streamer who played Black Desert Online, said as he screamed like a thunder cat.

The Thunder Cats theme song started to play in the background.

"Whhhooooaaaaa!!! I'm not gay!" Catman shouted as he jumped on a table with nachos and salsas and started eating.

Count Macula, Jr.'s faces shouted ethereally 512 times in the beat of the Thunder Cats theme song, "I'm not gay! I'm not gay! Holy Shit I'm not gay! I'm not gay!"

"How do I join your world?" Cutie Pie asked as he was also dancing to the theme song.

A technicolor screen from the 60s just appeared in Count Macula, Jr.'s castle.

"Find your MD square!!!! Empty square, bro!!!!!!" Cutie Pie shouted to his posse.

"What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on?" Count Macula, Jr. asked in stereo.

"I don't know what's happening right now. I'm not trying to guess," Joebear said. He made a noise that sounded like an air compressor. "I used to love WoW. It upsets me to see it turn into a retard fest. I played during BETA!!! I used to respect the game. I don't respect it anymore."

I laughed so hard. "I can't breathe," I said.

"Do you have the Rona?" Pauno asked. "Do you have the plague?"

"Technically yes. I'm from the United Kingdom," Prince Oliver, Zombie Werewolf of London, said. "Also, Braaaainsssss!!!"

A few people stopped eating, put on their masks, and ran out of the exit farthest away from any zombie werewolf.

"MY HOUSE SUCKS!!!!" an angry gamer shouted before he neighed.

"No. I don't have the plague. My temperature is 98.3 degrees Fahrenheit with no symptoms of being a zombie. I'm laughing hysterically," I said. "It gets to be too much." I belly-laughed.

"I'm BIGGGGGG!!! Just too big!!!!" Joebear said as he rolled on the floor and did a cute growl.

A bunch of gamers laughed their asses off before they farted. They were drunk already.

[archonreviews]

The Archon’s Review of Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning

Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning is a fantasy role-playing game developed by Big Huge Games and published by Electronic Arts. In the fantasy realm of Amalur, Fate has dictated the comings and goings of all things. Particularly sensitive to the workings of Fate are the immortal Fae, whom are divided into the Summer Court and the Winter Court. However, tragedy strikes when a rebellious Winter Fae named Gadflow decides that the current Winter King isn’t doing enough murder, and that he should be king instead. After killing the Winter King and usurping his throne, Gadflow and his followers, the Tuatha Deohn, go to war against the mortal races of Elf, Gnome, and Human. The mortals seem doomed, as while the Tuatha can be killed, they reincarnate quite quickly and return to fight, whereas the mortals die when they are killed. To circumvent this disadvantage, a Gnome by the name of Fomorous Hughes creates the Well of Souls, a device meant to resurrect the dead. You are its first apparent success, and in the process of reviving, you become unbound from Fate, and basically ruin it for everyone. Now, you are the last hope for mortal-kind to defeat the villainous Gadflow and his Tuatha followers, restoring balance to the Fae Courts and preserving the realm of Amalur.

I first heard of Kingdoms of Amalur back in the mid-2000′s, just around when I was playing Oblivion obsessively. It was contemporary with another third-person fantasy thingie, Two Worlds, which the GameStop employee recommended against, before trying to shill for GameInformer. I suppose my point here is that I picked up KoA:R because I was curious to see what I had missed all those years ago. And yes, I am aware of the controversy surrounding the game’s creation and the dismantling of Big Huge Games, but I must confess to not being too familiar with the happenings.

The first thing one may notice in this game is the graphics. They’re actually pretty damn good, with beautiful vistas and vibrant landscapes. The characters are surprisingly expressive, even if that expressiveness does result in some humorous facial expressions. The character models are a little funny though; all the men, at least, have what I like to call “Ground Beef Body”. I ended up naming my character “Flaskkott Djur”, or “Pork Animal” in Swedish because he immediately reminded me of a hunk of ground beef (I got the word “Flaskkott” confused with the word “Nottkott” which is “Beef”. There’s your Swedish lesson for the day).

(Just look at that chin! And he’s got the neck of an ox to boot!)

Speaking of vistas, the diversity of environments is greater than I might have expected; although, get ready to see plenty of magical forests. There are, however, plenty of deserts, beaches, swamps, and arid landscapes to explore, all with plenty of monsters to kill and things to loot. All the environments are quite pretty and vibrant to behold and great emphasis has been placed on making each area feel like its own self-contained region. Even the magical forests feel different enough from one-another that you’re not likely to get lost.

(Upward shot of one of the game’s major cities. Go all the way south, along a beach and across a desert and through a forest, and you’ll find a Greco-Roman city ruled by Gnomes, as opposed to this necropolis-looking thing.)

Character creation is interesting. You only have two choices at the start; race and deity to worship. Funnily enough, you can choose to be an atheist, and it may be the best choice in my opinion, not because I’m some trilby-wearing “Dark Enlightenment” nutter, but because being an atheist gives you a permanent +1% experience point boost, and I’m always a slut for levelling up. All the other deities give you different boosts, and each of the four playable races gives you certain bonuses to non-combat skills.

When I say that you only have two choices at the start, I was leading up to something. See, KoA:R sort of has you create your character throughout the entire game. Every time you level up, you get a point for non-combat skills and for combat abilities. You could easily make the case that all RPG’s do something similar, having the player build up their character over the course of the game, but the difference is that KoA:R basically gives you nothing to begin with, save for a few points in all the beginning combat skills, plus a few points in non-combat skills dependent upon your chose race. Most other RPG’s would at least give you a bit more than that, if only to establish a direction. KoA:R is unique in that building your character is a persistent, fluid process, which keeps it engaging; in addition, the ability to refund all your points for a small fee allows you to go back and try a different build should you get curious/ fed-up.

One side-note I’d like to make mention of: If you’re the sort of person who gives a shit about difficulty curve, don’t buy the “Weapons and Armor Bundle” DLC. As the name would suggest, it creates a chest in the first town filled with weapons and armors for you to grab and use at your leisure. And while you’ll get/craft better equipment in time, it’s still better than the equipment you would otherwise have at the time, and it throws the balance off for a bit.

Speaking of crafting, the game actually has a pretty rad crafting system which allows you to create equipment, potions, and socketable gems. And frankly, once you put enough points into the requisite skills, you can craft some frankly ridiculous things. After a while, I was salvaging nearly all my equipment for the spare parts, rather than selling it. Gold wasn’t much of an issue anyway, and I wanted to see if I could craft an even more effective murder tool.

If it seems like I’ve been avoiding the topic of combat for a while, it’s because I’ve been avoiding the topic of combat for a while. Honestly, I think it’s one of the weaker elements. It’s slow and cumbersome, and it’s completely possible to be hit for a full combo because you couldn’t get your fucking shield up in time because you were already swinging at a different enemy. Whenever I swung my sword, I was committed for roughly the next half-hour. Also, for those of you more used to Dark Souls styled dodge-rolling, I should warn you that the dodge-roll in this game does not seem to have any invincibility frames; it just zips in a direction real quick is all.

(Spiders rather quickly became my arch-nemeses. They always came in groups, attacked somewhat unpredictably, and where often harder to kill than might be expected.)

To be fair, once you level up a bit and develop your own tactics, combat becomes easier. Learning your enemies’ attack patterns and learning abilities that stagger them, or prevent you from being staggered will help immensely.

If the plot synopsis up there seemed kind of involved and a little faffy, it’s because that’s how the game is. Ostensibly, the whole thing is based on old Irish and Scottish myths about the fae, and while the influence is clearly there, and it’s clear that the devs at least did a modicum of research on the mythologies they use. I like the idea of fighting Fate, the rapacious bastard. Although, there’s a bit where it’s implied that you’re appearance (remember, your character exists outside the web of Fate) was itself predicted by Fate. As others have pointed out, that point is kind of mad, but it’s not as big a deal as it sounds, and there’s evidence to suggest that perhaps Fate has simply rewritten itself to fit you in.

(The antagonist either screaming in madness or receiving amazing head. I’ll let you decide.)

Now, I have a bit of a confession to make. I spent almost my entire time playing this on sidequests. Much work has been done to ensure that the sidequest chains are engaging, from helping the resident mercenary guild fight an invading demon lord and his army of elven followers, to saving a small village from a rogue Fae and her spider minions. I had a lot of fun on all the sidequests; I almost forgot about the critical path. By the time I got back, I was massively overlevelled and had a set of powerful equipment to back me up.

Here’s a weird thing apropos of nothing: while the human ladies are dressed normally (boob-plates notwithstanding), the elven ladies are almost always in some kind of revealing top, often a deep V-neck. I have no idea why this is; there’s no lore reason for it. Maybe Big Huge consisted entirely of elf-misogynists? It’s bizarre is all.

(She’s just dressed like this. No idea why, especially when a normal human wearing leather armor has it look like regular leather armor.)

Now, some people have compared this game to Skyrim; certain reviewers even calling it “Baby’s first Skyrim“ I don’t necessarily think the comparison is a fair one. Whereas Skyrim is very much a standard fantasy RPG in the vein of its forebears, KoA leans more heavily on semi-frenetic combat action, even bumping up against the (admittedly nebulous) action-adventure genre in the subway car. Crafting is different as well. Whereas Skyrim has you stock up on ores and ingots to craft with, this game has you salvaging your old weapons to find screws and grips and rivets, which gives the crafting a different feel, even if they are functionally very similar. While Skyrim is admittedly a more detailed, immersive experience (glitches notwithstanding), KoA is about as complicated as it needs to be. It gets in all the features it needs to be a pretty good game in its runtime.

And Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning is a pretty good game. Levelling up is more addictive than it is in most RPG’s, and great pains have been taken to make sure that each quest is fun and interesting, not just the main questline. Despite the reputation it’s accrued as a cut-rate Skyrim or “That one game what got a bunch of people in trouble and now it’s owned by Rhode Island,” I’d recommend it to anyone who likes somewhat complex fantasy worlds and/or anyone who likes their RPG’s a little bit on the actiony side. I may come back to it. After all, I’m more than half-way to the level cap and I’m not even close to the end of the main quest.

All in all, it’s a damn fine game. Would love to complete it some time.

(A back shot of a male character. I told you these people are made of ground beef.)

[musingsfromthetardis]

“They Spoke Indian”

This is a digression from the usual Whovian content of my blog, but it’s something that’s been on my mind lately and I wanted to write about it. 

So recently I went to a small Native American related event at one of the old missions where the Spanish Conquistadors collected and housed indigenous peoples of the area to convert them to proper Spanish citizens- ie. Spanish-speaking, catholic-believing, good little obedient people.  While I was walking around, I happened to briefly overhear a tour guide talking to some tourists about the mission. I only caught a few phrases, but what I did hear has stuck in my mind. The tourists had questioned the language situation of the mission, and the guide told them how they were taught Spanish, and Spanish would have been the main language used in the mission environment. Then he went on to clarify that Spanish was not the first language of the native peoples brought here. Because of course, before the era of conquistadors and missions, the native peoples of the area spoke a different language.

“They spoke Indian,” the tour guide said, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. 

At that point I was no longer within earshot of the group and did not hear anything else. But that phrase and it’s uncertain tone resonated in my mind.

They spoke Indian.

The first reaction I had was simple- to inwardly scoff at the phrase. 

There is no such thing as an “Indian” language. There is no language that exists on this earth called “Indian” as far as I am aware. Even in the country India, there are hundreds of languages but none of them are called “Indian” as a specific name for a specific language. “Indian” is a category, a group, a collection of many different languages that are similar but definitely not the same. 

You may as well say that people in Uganda speak “African” or people in Belgium speak “European”. Is the term completely untrue? Well, technically no. Yes French and Dutch and German are European languages, and Luganda and Swahili are African languages. But to say “They speak African” or “They speak European” is just wrong. Because no, that’s not the language. It’s generic. It removes the real culture and real language from the equation. 

Removes the real culture and real language from the equation. 

And there, my peeps, is the rub. That is exactly what happened in that place I was standing in. That was the exact mission, of the mission. To completely erase and eradicate the culture and traditional life of the original inhabitants of the area.

Not to adapt their culture, or add to their culture, or even change their culture, but to completely erase their culture. To make their culture cease to exist. 

To make the people forget their culture had even ever existed in the first place.

And here we are, several hundred years later. And what do we know of the culture of the people who were brought to the missions? Because certainly something must have survived. Certainly there are people who remember something, who remember stories from grandparents, or just... something.

And a tour guide would know those somethings, right? 

What did they look like? What types of clothes had they worn? What types of religion or spirituality did they adhere to? What types of shelters did they live in?

What language did they speak?

They spoke Indian.

Culture is a very powerful thing. It is your identity, it is what binds groups of people together. As such, it can be dangerous if you are a colonizing force wanting to subjugate and overpower a large number of people. So the Spaniards destroyed it. They took away the identity of the people who used to live here in large numbers- stripped them of their beliefs, their way of life, even their language. 

It is in language that culture really lives; the words and how you use them, the intricacies of it’s structure and the way you say things- all influence the way you see the world. We are all influenced mentally by the language(s) we speak. Language is the glue of culture, one could perhaps say. You remove it, the rest is easily brushed away. 

I think people forget that North America is a continent, and at one time was full of more diversity and unique cultural groups than Europe ever had. An entire continent of languages and cultures and different ways of life. From coastal sea-faring people to people in the north where the ground is permafrost; from people who lived in the mountains to people who lived along rivers and in forests; from the endless grass seas of the Great Plains to the deserts of the southwest and the swamps and bayous of the southeast. All unique, with their own cultures and languages. 

And what has remained?

What do we, collectively, still know of all these people? Specifically, what do we know of the people who lived here, in the mission I’m standing in right now?

They spoke Indian.

It is said with uncertainty- We know it is nothing. We know that is not a real answer by far. 

But it is all we know. 

[keshetchai]

in response the my ask, too harsh/unfair? Naw, I asked wanting your honest criticisms and advice and you gave it as academically and emotion free as possible so no hurt feelings or anything over here. Your criticism of the information out there is valid and what I was looking for and the problems Jewish appropriation, the orientalist lens and intellectually dishonesty are important to not gloss over or forget. For that I thank you. You do good works.

> on the demon/devil summoning bit (prt2) But yes I am aware there is plenty of stuff out there that I don’t want to get tangled up in. Why do you think I’m so concerned about appropriation? Spirits and things don’t recognize white privilege and I sure as heck am not going to go poking any African or Caribbean spirits let alone the Haitian ones. There’s a reason why Mexicans, Koreans and Jews and such do what they do and thankfully, I’m not so white-blind as to not understand or not respect that.

—–

Haha well no, I wasn’t entirely academic about this. I won’t claim my answer was unbiased. But thanks.

Basically I don’t recommend it, no. Like honestly with any form of paganism, the concern should be what is YOURS? Where does your family come from? Did anyone ever talk about things that go bump in the night? Any superstitions your family has? Folk religion doesn’t necessarily exist away from monotheism - usually it’s right there under the surface. Is your family Irish? What about researching the fair folk? Are they Slavic? Swedish? Italian? Where do you come from? What wisdom does your family have?

Hell you don’t even have to trace your way back to Europe. There’s a myriad of American folktales and religious/superstitious practices. Is your family from Appalachia? What about the Midwest? Are you Pennsylvania Dutch?

I think neopaganism for (white American) people serves one or two major purposes:

1.) it gives you something to connect to that fills the void that is created by the concept of whiteness. Whiteness asks people to file down ethnic differences, individual heritages, and other communal ideals in favor of the social construct of whiteness. Basically when someone who is white says “I have no culture” it’s because they and their families have denied or buried their differences in order to gain the privilege of whiteness as a construct. People feel empty and disconnected!

The BEST way to cure this feeling is to look inwards. Whiteness as a construct denied you culture and heritage! The phrase “white pride” is upsetting because it’s a pride in social privilege and oppression of other people. But Scottish pride? Italian pride? It all sounds different, yes? Neopaganism often serves to replace the denied or loss of culture people feel because of whiteness. It bandages the issue (imo) but won’t stitch you up! This is also why so much of neopaganism is appropriation of native/indigenous or middle/far eastern beliefs mixed in with generic European folk concepts.

2.) it gives you a way to remove part of yourself from the pre-constructed limits of whiteness and probably Christianity while exploring your individual spiritual needs and desires.

Basically if you feel something missing now, replacing it with a knock off of middle eastern beliefs or plastic shamanism won’t really give you what you want or need. It won’t nurture you, ultimately.

It’s possible for many people that they don’t know where their family is really from - either because of adoption or history of slavery or warfare or immigration records or…etc. but again I emphasize you can use what is local, you can glean from your adopted family or your regional (white) folk practices, etc.

If I could suggest something to any neopagan/pagan, my suggestion would be “look inside yourself and your family and ancestors. What is there?” You don’t have to love your parents or grandparents. But take the chance and research your genealogy. Do a DNA test! Research the city/town/state you live in and read through collections of local folk tales. Research local plants/herbs/animals. Connect with the world you occupy and the place you live in. I’m not saying don’t worship Demeter or something if that’s what you really want, but DO try to connect yourself to the way you live and the life you have. Connect yourself to who you are. This is why you can’t do rootwork or santeria- because that isn’t who you are or where you come from. “Paganism” is about working with yourself first and foremost. You can’t suddenly pick up a native or indigenous practice because it’s not yours, the ritual can’t have that meaning for you, it has no power because it comes from the community, the people, etc.

Similarly – would working with abbadon really mean anything for you? What would a stranger spirit give you? If you live say, in the snowy forest areas of the north, or the muggy swamps of the south, how would spirits from the Fertile Crescent or unforgiving desert help?

I don’t know what attracts you to demonolatry. I think in general if you want to work with non-Jewish/non-Muslim spirits you could, but I don’t know why you want it. And obviously I’m biased, I did choose Judaism for myself. But what do you personally want from religion or faith? What is it about demonolatry that attracted you? What calls to you about religion? What practices do you want? When you work with “spirits” you are also working with yourself and you are working with the history of those spirits, and that’s why I suggest personal, local, or familial research.

I see two different things here - one, the appropriation and two, my question of “well why this thing anyways?” The appropriation – yeah I think it treads that way from what I saw online. It’s also, like I said, pretty orientalist. I recommend against it, especially since none of it is connected to you. The second “why does this appeal to you?” I think would probably help you find what WOULD work for you, eventually. I don’t mind talking to you about that either!

If you want to work with spirits, find your own ancestors. That’s the start.

[princesssarcastia]

You Need A Teacher (but it’s not fucking kylo ren, that’s for sure)

Just to be clear. Part three in the “the force thinks letting the past die is a stupid fucking idea that will allow history to repeat itself again, so it shoved a thousand generations’ worth of Jedi knowledge into Rey’s head” au, in which Rey gets many teachers, all of whom are (spoilers) dead. 

thoughts? comments? concerns? lmk. 

Long Gone • Let the past die? I think not. 

When Rey opens her eyes again, she’s alone, but the warmth of the past surrounds her, keeping out the wretched chill covering the entire island.  Cold isn’t a new feeling for her, but the damp is, and she’s not sure if she likes it yet.

Going back across the cavern is even easier.  Her limbs remember where to go without direction.  She lets movement fill her mind until it drives her thoughts from her head and enjoys a moment of peace.

Night has already fallen when Rey makes it out and winding her way down to Luke’s hut takes less time than she would like.  All of her previous sorrow and discontent is waiting there for her, but she recalls the feeling of sitting before Ahsoka, balanced, and pushes foreword.  

Luke has a fire going, with fish roasting on a spit over it.  Fish, Rey muses.  Another new thing.  She definitely likes these, though.  Variety in food is a novelty she isn’t sure will ever wear off, even though Luke assured her the handful of plants and animals here are nothing.

(Sometimes…sometimes Luke forgets to be on edge around her.  Sometimes he smiles, and it pulls at lines on his face like it used to be all he ever did.  Sometimes he is effortlessly kind and standing next to him feels like orbiting a star.)

“Did you find what you were looking for?”  He asks quietly.

Rey settles no closer to him than she usually does but meets his eyes searchingly.  “Yes,” she says, and he takes a deep breath.  

“I’m sorry.”  Sorry for what, she almost asks, but she already knows the answer.  Kylo Ren, Han, the state of the galaxy and the force; not being able to give her what she’s looking for.

They fall into silence. Rey finally accepts that, until he heals (unless, unless he heals), he’ll never be able to teach her like she wants.  Padawan, some memoryvision whispers in her ear, but she blinks the thought away.  No.

With Ahsoka’s promise to help her in her mind, though, it is the most companionable silence they’ve ever had.  He hands her a fish, and they eat while the darkness sings with life around them.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Not once does she manage to wake before Luke, despite years and years of rising with the sun on Jakku to work in the cool hours just after dawn.  She hasn’t decided yet if he’s doing this on purpose, just to annoy her.  

Either way, today she wakes early and climbs to a small plateau halfway up the mountain to watch the sun rise.  By this time in the desert, she’d be buried in the wreck of a Star Destroyer, unable to watch the sky turn pink.  While she’s here, while she has time, she’s going to watch every single one of them, from every angle on the island.

“A wonderful view, it is.” Suddenly, someone is sitting next to her.  Ancient, rooted, stable, impish.  Light, like Ahsoka, but not warm.  They feel almost…scorching.

She agrees quietly but says nothing.  The pair of them watch as the sun’s rays reflect off of the water, now sparkling like a mirage.  As the line of light creeps closer and closer along the rock, she suddenly knows he’ll be gone as soon as it touches them.

Rey keeps the question in for as long as she can, but it suddenly bursts out.  “Are you here to teach me?”

He chuckles madly. “Teach you? No, no.  A teacher I am no longer. Old, yes, but wise? Hmm.”  

Light slips nearer. “Then why are you here?”

“Always enjoyed sunsets I have.  When I could.”  Loneliness and grief surge through her; swamps and a ruined temple run roughly through her mind.  “Tired, I am, and old.  Yes, too old to train you.

But watch this sunrise with you, I will.”

Calm wraps around her, as warm as the sunlight that’s almost close enough to taste.  One of the porgs flutters down curiously and nuzzles her hand when she stretches it out.  

In, out.  In, out.  In…out….

Rey breathes with the motion of the sun and soon enough, Yoda is gone, but she thinks she understands.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Another week passes, and she never sees Yoda again, but it seems like dozens of other warriors have taken his place.  They, at least, can teach her.

The waters lapping at the rocks ringing the island remain a mystery to her until a smiling man, a Jedi, coaxes her chest deep in the water.  Feel the push and pull of the tide, he says, like your breath, like the Force.  Feel the creatures living in it: the fish you eat, the plants humming faintly on the ocean floor, the larger predators with their sharp and focused minds.  

Know your fear and you may find you no longer fear it, he says, and slips under the water.  After a moment’s hesitation, she follows.  It feels odd, and Rey has no idea how to move her limbs.  

The Jedi flows past her with his head tails moving strangely around him.  Rey ruthlessly copies his movements until she gains some momentum. He laughs at her determinedness in a good-natured way, his voice carrying through the water, and beckons her further from the island.

She follows unreservedly now and continues to watch how his arms and legs move.  Without webbing between her fingers, or gills, she will never move that fast.  Another few seconds and she sees his head tails feel the movement of the currents around him; they drag with the water and he shifts direction ever so slightly.

Ocean life is dazzling and strange.  It’s as if there’s a whole other world on this planet, even beyond the islands and surface waves.  Colorful, different, but

not––scary.  

One of the fish she likes to eat swims cautiously near her and she stills.  It freezes in response, sensing her muscles tensing somehow.  

“Relax, and he will come to you!” The Jedi calls from the reef where he’s stopped.  Looking at him makes her uneasy for a second: it’s disconcerting to watch someone go so long without breathing.  Rey wonders if it’s because he’s aquatic, or because he’s not really here at all.

Her chest tightens and she knows she doesn’t have much longer, especially if she uses up her oxygen trying to keep still.  Tension leaks from her limbs as she lets the water push and pull her.

The fish finally begins moving again, darting a path like lightning through the water towards her. She stretches out a hand and it rushes into her, it’s strange mouth trying to latch onto her fingers.  

I won’t eat you, she thinks, because that isn’t the point of this, but I won’t let you eat me either.

Pushing towards the surface and breaking into the fresh air feels wonderful.  Stretching hernotherotherout lets her know she’s alone now. Rey lets her body move with the waves, and the incomprehensible amount of water surrounding her is no longer worrisome, because she knows it.

…

Luke’s ship rests at the bottom of a cove barely big enough to contain it.  Algae covers it like the rust that hasn’t touched it, even though after all these years it should have.  Rey suspects that, if it was pulled out of the water, the x-wing would run perfectly.

…

After another week, Rey starts reaching out to Finn every morning with hernotherother, tentatively grasping at that faint thrumming of not yet, not yetin the back of her mind.

Some days, the best days, something that is Finn, FinnnotFinnother, will stir.  Reach back, asleep but aware.  Whenever that happens, she spends the rest of the day with a smile on her face.  This, her connection with him; this is what she’s been waiting for her whole life.  

Family.  

(She looks at Luke, sometimes, on those days, and wonders whether he still get that feeling from Leia).

…

Old Ben comes to her one day as she sits on the highest point of the island, watching the porgs waddle and flap their way across the grassy rock.

“Delightful creatures, aren’t they?” He says, groaning slightly as he lowers himself next to her. She raises an eyebrow and he scoffs. “What, you think the aches of age you earned in life just disappear when you die? No, the Force is not quite so kind.”

A flash of memoryvision pushes to the front of her mind, for the first time since she entered the temple. Visions of the past on Endor; a young man standing with old men.

Old Ben grumbles. “Yes, well; he always was the Force’s favorite.  The rest of us aren’t that lucky.”

He folds his legs and she mirrors him.  They reach out together, and Rey hangs back slightly to feel what he’s doing.  Himnothimother tosses a stone into the energy around them.  No, not a stone; a lure.

The porgs’ movements slow and they turn towards the pair of them, sitting there.  Old Ben nudges her side and she plucks the lure from his grip, balancing it out again in front of her.  As if in a trance, the animals move closer, drawn to her by something they can’t even comprehend, or hope to fight.

Kylo Ren and the chair with the bindings flash through her mind and she stops abruptly.  All the creatures around her start and begin to flap their way down the mountain, agitated.  Rey lets out a slow breath and closes her eyes.  “I don’t think I like that.”

“I rather think I liked it too much, while I lived.  Anakin never–” He cuts himself off, staring into the distance.  “Let’s just say, there are some lines the Jedi crossed far too often, with little thought to the consequences.”

He turns to face her and again she mirrors him.  “Rey, it is not just the dark side that leads to unnatural abilities.  Take care you don’t abuse them, or you may find yourself going down a much darker path.”

Kylo’s scorching presence ripping at her mind you want to go home and rethink your life and you will tell us n o w–

Air fills her lungs more quickly, and her chest feels a little tighter.  For a moment, warmth settles on her shoulder; then it is gone, and she is alone.

…

One day, Chewie makes the hike up from the Falcon with his bowcaster and the blaster Han had given her at Maz’s.  She didn’t see his reunion with Luke when they first arrived.  The tension between the pair of them nudged her to explore for a little while, and when she returned, Chewie was back on the ship.

Here, today, he nods at Luke and then drags her away from the fire and back down the mountain. When they reach the longest stretch of beach on the island, Rey finds the targets he’s set up, varying ranges and angles away from the spot he’s marked very clearly in the sand.

She smiles brightly and hugs him, long enough for him to huff exasperatedly, <Yes, alright, cub, now let’s practice your aim.  Han used to say ancient religions were no match for a good blaster at your side.>

Chewbacca adjusts her stance for recoil and lets her at it.  Most of her shots with the smaller blaster are accurate, but then he hands her his.  The kick pushes her back half a meter and the shot goes wild.

<You have the muscle for it, you’re just tensing too much.  Work with the energy, not against it>

Rey closes her eyes for a moment and feels the ghosts of waves pushing and pulling at her skin. Her next shot hits dead center, and she uses the recoil to swing to the next target.

Once he’s sure she has it, they spend the rest of the morning making increasingly ridiculous shots until R2 rolls over with ration packs, saying he knew meat-bags needed to charge more often than he did.

The three of them sat in the shadow of the Falcon contentedly for lunch, staying just out of reach of the midday sun.

[pcurrytravels]

Mini-Guide: New Orleans

Good afternoon, y’all! Now, as you all already know, during the last week of May, going into the first week of June 2018, I finally embarked on an excursion to New Orleans. This has long been one of my favorite places in spite of never having actually been there. Suffice to say, the city did not disappoint! I for one am very excited to jot down this guide and some basic tips for you all. I’m even more excited for jotting down my own personal thoughts, but we must get through this first. Anyway, LET’S GO:

The Appeal:

A TON of history, covering a wide-spectrum of topics. A highly-distinctive culture. Fantastic food around every corner (even at convenience stores, believe it or not). Free-flowing liquor to go along with a festive atmosphere. Lots of great music. A number of unorthodox tours and attractions involving topics such as ghosts, cemeteries and voodoo. And just so much more, really. Oh, and need I mention that it’s all very affordable? Especially in comparison to some places (see: California and Vegas)

Top Things To Do:

Sightseeing and Experiences:

- The French Quarter. Because it’s the French Quarter.

- Pick a tour. Any tour (or all of them if you can). There’s tours available for ghosts and hauntings, cemeteries, voodoo, vampires, pirates, neighborhoods, food and culture, etc..... The options are truly endless, and it really is the best way to learn about NOLA.

- Ride all four streetcar lines from start to finish. $1.25 is all you need to tour the city in these historic vehicles.

- If ever you see a second-line or a brass band playing live music, by all means, STOP AND WATCH. Your earbuds will thank you!

- Take a riverboat cruise down the Mississippi for the picturesque scenery, a history lesson from the tour guide on board and the unfortunate sight of still-remaining Hurricane Katrina ruins.

- Try one of a number of famous cocktails and daiquiris; such as Hurricanes, Hand Grenades, Sazerac, Absinthe, etc....

Dining:

Okay, thanks to some conversations I had with the locals, and also being on a budget, I learned that when it comes to trying out New Orleans/South Louisiana specialties, you really can do no wrong. True, there are places that are better than others, but the differences are marginal at best as almost everyone does a pretty good job with the food.

These are my personal suggestions, based on experience, but note that this is merely what I tried and where I had it. By all means, ask the locals when you get there, the vast majority of New Orleanians are very friendly and approachable people:

- Daisy Dukes for Po’Boy sandwiches, Red Beans and Rice, Crawfish Hush Puppies, southern-style breakfast platters and Sweet Tea so good you’ll slap yo mama.

- Cafe Beignet for Beignets, Crawfish Omlettes (sounds weird AF but was actually pretty good, trust me on this one) and Cafe Au Lait. (*Disclaimer: Yes, I am fully aware that Cafe du Monde is THE place to go to for beignets and cafe au lait. However, it was always crowded AF every time we passed by and, not wanting to stand around and wait in that humidity, we opted for this place around the corner instead)

- Cafe Maspero for Gumbo and Jambalaya. Oh, and some stiff Daiquiris too.

- Praline Connection for Pralines.

- Merchant for Crepes.

- PJ’s Coffee for Coffee Granita. (Like a Starbucks Frappuccino but better basically)

- If you take the Creole Queen cruise, the Bread Pudding they serve on board comes highly recommended. Don’t forget to ask for whiskey sauce!

- Brothers Food Mart for Fried Chicken and Natchitoches Meat Pies. Seriously.

- Deanie’s and Oceana Grill for seafood dishes. Now, note I didn’t try either of these places while I was there; however, literally EVERYONE was gushing to me about how great they were, so I’ll be sure to put them on the list for my next visit.

- Oh, speaking of places to eat nearly everyone recommended but I didn’t get around to trying: Mother’s for po’ boy sandwiches and Dooky Chase for soul food. (I need to make a list myself as I definitely plan on going again!)

- It’s also been alleged that Popeye’s in New Orleans tastes better than Popeye’s anywhere else. Although I didn’t check it out for myself, it definitely seems like something to keep in mind.

- Lastly, be sure to try a bag of Zapp’s potato chips.

Neighborhoods To Explore:

- The French Quarter. Pour it up and laissez les bon temps rouler of course, but be sure to learn about the history, admire the Spanish Colonial architecture (contrary to popular belief, hardly any of the buildings in the French Quarter are actually French; it’s a bit of a long story), poke in and out of the eclectic range of shops, stop and listen to the second line, get your fortune read, dodge vampires and search for ghosts while you do.

- Central Business District, or the “American Quarter” if you will. While only physically separated from the FQ by a wide avenue known as Canal Street, in terms of history, culture and architecture, it’s almost a world apart. Now, it may look just like the downtown area of any other American city, but don’t let the generic appearance fool you. There are still a number of superb dining, nightlife and shopping options to be found here; many just as authentically Creole as the FQ. This is also where I would suggest staying if you’re in need of more modern accommodations, as the hotels in the French Quarter are VERY old-fashioned.

- Warehouse District. Like the CBD, only even more local and laid-back. Despite it’s unassuming appearance (well, unassuming for New Orleans anyway), a number of museums and historical landmarks can be found in this area. Oh, and given that this area also doubles as NOLA’s arts district, the artistic and cultural offerings in this neighborhood are nothing to sneeze at either.

- Marigny. Like the French Quarter, but with cheaper prices for everything, slightly newer French and Spanish Colonial buildings, a quirkier, counterculture-oriented vibe and atmosphere, a more eclectic range of nightlife offerings, and less tourists. If you want so see how New Orleanians really get down, then you’ve come to the right place. Be sure to tread carefully however, as there’s some blocks in this area that aren’t very pleasant.

- Treme. If Harlem had a southern equivalent, this would be it. Originally the part of town (or “Faubourg” as the French colonists called it) set aside for free people of color, it has a rich and storied history, what with being the birthplace of Jazz, the nucleus of Afro-Creole culture, the home of Congo Square and the location of St. Louis Cemeteries #1 and #2 respectively. It’s a shame that the area is also a tad dangerous; so while I highly recommend paying your respects at the aforementioned historical sites and appreciating the numerous shotgun houses which dot the landscape, be very mindful of your surroundings; and avoid going at night altogether.

- The Garden District. Across Jackson Ave., you’ll likely notice that things start to look less like Havana and more like Savannah, Georgia. That’s because you’re entering the former domain of wealthy, 19th-century Protestant, Anglo-Americans who had chosen to move to a Catholic, French/Spanish Creole city but wanted nothing to do with the Catholic, French/Spanish Creole people and culture (In regards to their logic? Your guess is as good as mine). Thankfully, all of those snobs are long gone. Instead, should you decide to explore this neighborhood, you’ll be greeted to a number of large and stately homes with adjoining slave quarters from the Antebellum era, most of which fronted by, well, gardens. It also plays host to a much more understated and low-key, but still fairly active, nightlife and dining scene.

- Uptown/Audubon/Carrollton. Beyond the Garden District, with the St. Charles Streetcar bisecting things in the middle, you’ll be treated to this quasi-suburban respite near the parish line, upriver from the hustle and bustle of the French Quarter and CBD (Carrollton actually began its existence as an entirely separate suburb if that says anything). It’s here where things start to look more “normal,” albeit still retaining the NOLA flair with French/Creole naming conventions in use and drive-thru daiquiri bars (that’s not a typo). A number of worthwhile spots for dining, drinking and/or shopping can still be found in spite of the somewhat more modern architecture. Even then, Tulane and Loyola universities are both wonderful sights to behold with their Gothic architecture, and Audubon Park is quite lovely as well. 

General Tips:

Packing:

Okay, I will admit this is a place where I totally screwed up. Although I was aware that New Orleans is notorious for it’s humidity, I figured that, being from Las Vegas and all (another place that gets notoriously hot), I should have no problem adjusting right? Oh boy, how wrong I was. The heat of a subtropical swamp is an entirely different animal from the heat of a semi-arid desert.

Make sure you bring and/or buy a deodorant that you are 100% sure will work for you. Better yet, get an antiperspirant. I learned my lesson about this the hard way. Also: talculm powder and/or powder spray, anti-chafing/anti-friction sticks and/or gels, shoe/foot odor products and wet wipes/moist towelettes. Either pack these things beforehand or find a store to buy them at when you arrive. Trust me, you will need them.

Now, while I did pack sun care and protection items, going off of my experience, it turns out I didn’t really need them as the sun wasn’t the problem there. So I would suggest skipping that unless you plan on taking a dip in the pool. One thing you DO need however is insect repellent. If it wasn’t for the chemicals, I would have kissed my bottle of OFF. I saw close to a hundred mosquitoes, and wasn’t bitten a single time. Thank the lord. I also had a cooling towel and a portable fan, neither of which helped very much, but anything to keep yourself cool, right?

Another place where I screwed up is the clothes. Not only is NOLA culture VERY casual but it’s such a hot, humid climate that unless you plan on dining and/or drinking at somewhere on the more upscale side of things no one really cares how you dress. Light materials and colors, loose-fitting items, shorts, shorts, SHORTS and a basic pair of sneakers and/or sandals are really all you need.*

*Note that my trip to New Orleans was also at the beginning of hurricane season, so my packing tips are largely based off of that time of year. I’m sure another time of year would be a different story.

Weather:

This is a city that was literally built on top of a swamp, so yes, it’s VERY humid. Now, temperature-wise, it never got any higher than 90 degrees when I was there, but the humidity adds about ten to fifteen extra degrees so it doesn’t really matter.

I suggest the following things for dealing with the weather in New Orleans: The minute you check-in to your room, find the nearest store, buy a pack of water and immediately throw the bottles in your room’s fridge and/or ice bucket. You will need them. There’s also no shame in buying a bottle for one or two dollars from one of the self-licensed vendors that can be spotted near all of the tourist attractions (avoid anyone charging more than two dollars however).

“Cooling” items (like cooling towels or portable fans) come highly recommended. Stay in the shade when you can and duck into an air-conditioned space for a few minutes if it all becomes too much for you. Given that it isn’t the type of heat that warms up the air, hand fans really do come in handy. Oh, and no one will look at you funny should you decide to use an umbrella to shield yourself from the sunlight. It is the south after all.

Safety:

Okay, as rich, beautiful and magical New Orleans may be, it’s far from a safe city. Granted, the French Quarter, CBD, Warehouse District, Marigny, Garden District, Audubon and Uptown areas are all pretty safe in the daytime, aside from a select few pockets you wouldn’t really have a good reason to be in anyway. It’s after dark where you’ll be treated to a much different story.

There is safety in numbers. After dark, be sure you are accompanied by at least one other person at all times. Two or more is better. I learned this the hard way by foolishly taking a late-night walk in the area around my hotel in the CBD on my first night there. I had assumed all was fine until I ended up getting verbally assaulted. Thankfully, nothing more came out of the incident aside from some empty threats but still.

If the location of your accommodation is more than a half-mile away and/or you are significantly inebriated, avoid walking or taking public transit to your room at night. Either flag down a taxi or utilize a rideshare service such as Uber or Lyft. NOLA is such a compact city that the fare is unlikely to be very much wherever you are (well, provided you’re not in Metairie or the West Bank).

Be responsible with personal belongings. Keep wallets, cell phones and whatnot in front pockets, hold any purse or bag very close to your person (getting a travel pouch, money belt, passport bag and/or fanny pack would be a very good idea actually) and avoid walking around with an excessive amount of shopping bags. Pay extra close attention if walking on a crowded sidewalk or riding in a packed bus and/or streetcar.

One particularly strange phenomenon in New Orleans is that of shoe hustlers. These people will approach you talking about how nice your shoes are before insisting on making a bet that they can guess where you got them at (key word being “at” and not “from”). Just say “they’re on my feet” and keep it moving. There’s a number of panhandlers and beggars, but most of them are harmless. There’s a few that may cuss you out if you say no or ignore them but that’s about it. Oh, and whatever you do, DO NOT walk around wearing Mardi Gras beads, especially outside of the “Upper” French Quarter (just ask a local what that means when you get there). You’re pretty much asking to get mugged by doing so.

Transportation:

Okay, this is where things get a bit messy. The location of the New Orleans metro area can be described as very awkward at best, being sandwiched on a curvy strip of land between a river and a lake and all. Thanks to this unusual geography, they really had no choice but to place the Louis Armstrong International Airport in the far-flung suburb of Kenner in Jefferson Parish. There’s also no public transit access to speak of aside from two bus lines with unreliable and infrequent service. Oh dear. 

I mean, you could just take a cab.....for a set price of $36 no matter what part of town you’re going to. Or you could do Uber/Lyft.....for about the same price (I thought the whole point of rideshare services was to be cheaper than taxis?). And then you have airport shuttles........which are even pricier. You could rent a car too.....provided you’re willing to navigate 18th and 19th century streets designed for horse-pulled carriages before hacking off one of your arms in order to pay for valet and/or parking. 

Okay, anyway, more about the airport-serving bus lines: As already stated, there’s two of them; the 202 Airport Express under NORTA for $1.50 and the E-2 under Jefferson Transit for $2.00. Both of which pick you up at the airport and drop you off in the vicinity of the Superdome in the CBD. From there, you’re on your own. Thankfully, our hotel was in walking distance from the end of the line so having to transfer wasn’t an issue. If you do need to transfer to another bus line however, keep in mind that you can’t transfer from the E-2 to any buses in New Orleans due to it operating under the agency of a separate parish. 

Ironically, the E-2 is also the one of the two which runs on frequent service (frequent meaning once per hour). The 202 literally only runs five times a day. Seriously. Apparently, it’s primary purpose is to serve airport employees (because everyone there must work the same shift(s), right?). Thankfully, on the day we arrived, we literally came just in time for one of its five daily trips. Now if only we were so lucky on our last day.

Long story short, for some reason the E-2 doesn’t go past the parish line on weekends. We had no choice but to take the E-2 on the day we left as the 202 would have either brought us to the airport way too early or we would have missed our flight thanks to the five-trips-a-day nonsense. We took a long bus ride to the county line, only for the bus to show up and leave a whole thirty minutes before it was supposed to. We ended up having no choice but to share an Uber (that was strangely the same price as it would have been from our hotel despite being picked up at a location WAY closer to the airport) with a nice couple who were just as lost and confused as we were that morning. So, in all honesty, I would suggest holding on to an extra $80 for a taxi and/or Uber/Lyft ride to and from the airport. You’ll save yourself a lot of hassle and confusion by doing so.

As for getting around the city itself? Well, my mom and I paid $9 each for 3-day Jazzy passes and I’m still not sure if we really needed them. Given our hotel’s location in the CBD, we were in walking distance to almost everything. I guess that’s just the beauty of being in a city that was almost entirely designed and developed before the Model T was even a twinkle in Henry Ford’s eye. Oh, and the public transit in the area leaves quite a bit to be desired.

New Orleans’s public transit agency, NORTA, provides bus and streetcar service and, based on my observations anyway, was barely useful. I saw a number of bus stops, and would wait at them for about fifteen or twenty minutes, only to start walking and then see the bus show up just as I had made it to my destination. The bus service is 1.) infrequent and 2.) has the most peculiar routing I’ve ever seen (then again the city of New Orleans itself has the most peculiar street grid I’ve ever seen so that’s probably just a given). So I wouldn’t recommend getting around by the bus, unless you’re staying somewhere like Mid-City, Carrollton or deep in Uptown or the Garden District (which I also wouldn’t recommend, especially not on a first trip). 

Now, the streetcars on the other hand, on top of being an essential part of the NOLA experience, akin to San Francisco’s cable cars, were much more useful. The Canal, Riverfront and St. Charles lines in particular pass by just about every attraction and/or point of interest and, although the French Quarter is a highly walkable area, the Riverfront line is very useful if you want to give your feet a break when going from one side of it to the other. 

All that being said, it isn’t what I’d call reliable. Being operated by overhead, electrical wires, it’s very susceptible to the elements. There was one day of my trip where it rained, with the streetcars going out of order as a result. Of course, that says nothing of how easily a route can be put off by something as minor as a car not being parallel-parked correctly. Oh, and did I mention that they also get jam-packed? Well not the Rampart/Loyola line, but aside from Louis Armstrong Park, the Superdome and the Amtrak/Greyhound station, that one doesn’t really pass by anything worthwhile anyway.

Taking all of this into account, while I still highly recommend riding the streetcar at least once if only for the experience, the ideal way to get around New Orleans is to WALK. Its compact, European-style urban layout makes this very easy. This also lends itself to low fares for taxis and Uber/Lyft rides. You can rent a bike as well if that’s up your alley. But, again, I wouldn’t suggest driving at all. 

Hours of Operation:

This is another area where the city is in a bit of flux. There’s many things that are open 24 hours. There are others that close up early. Most of the drugstores and convenience stores are open 24 hours. A lot of the bars and lounges in and around the French Quarter and CBD open up as early as 10 AM and don’t close shop until 2 AM or later, with a select few being open 24 hours as well. After all, there is no last call or dry hour in the state of Louisiana.

With everything else, it widely varies. For example, a number of attractions don’t open until 10 or 11 AM in the morning only to close by 4 PM. That’s right, they’re only open five to six hours. As we had the 2-Day New Orleans Power Pass, we had to rush through a lot of the attractions (we actually went to the Audubon Aquarium twenty minutes before it closed, not that I really regret having to speed through that one, but more on that later) and after the end of day two barely even took part in half of the listed attractions. So if you want to do any of this stuff, be sure to plan accordingly.

Thankfully, food is very easy to find at all times of day. A lot of restaurants in the vicinity of the French Quarter and/or CBD in particular don’t close down until sometime between midnight and 2 AM. Most cafes open up between 5 and 7 AM. And, given that this is an area rife with hungry party-goers and drunks, 24 hour restaurants are not at all uncommon.

Money-Related:

Out of all the places I’ve been to, I can confidently say New Orleans is the cheapest. There is a lot that can be done on very little money. A disproportionate amount of travel guides and programs on the Travel Channel will insist that you dine at places like Commander’s Palace or Brennan’s, but the fact that I had a fantastic meal of fried chicken, meat pies and french fries for less than $10 from a CORNER STORE should be enough to indicate that one can easily experience this city on a budget. 

Be sure to keep a decent amount of cash on you at all times, as there’s a shockingly large amount of businesses throughout the entire city that don’t take plastic. ATM’s are also plentiful but I would suggest finding one compatible with your bank as the fees can be quite high. 

In Orleans Parish, all goods are subject to a 9% sales tax, including groceries. The latter was a shock for me, being from a state where groceries aren’t taxed. If you happen to be from a state that doesn’t tax groceries, keep this in mind so there’s no surprises.

As far as tipping goes, 15 to 20 percent is the standard for restaurant and bar tabs; unless of course you didn’t open a tab at the bar. In that case, tip $1.00 per drink. It is also nice to keep a couple of dollar bills on hand at all times to tip the numerous brass bands, street performers and tour guides that can be found all over town, but be sure to do so with discretion. 

Miscellaneous:

Restrooms can be very difficult to find. Wherever it is you are eating or drinking, be sure to use their restroom before you leave because it’s probably gonna be a while before you find another one. 

Be sure to pack and/or buy allergy and sinus medicine, or otherwise your nasal passages will not give you a break here.

You also may have been confused by some of the terminology used here, so let me explain:

In the state of Louisiana, counties are called “parishes.” You see, when modern-day Louisiana was absorbed into the U.S.A. back in 1803 (I point out the “modern” part because the territory known as Louisiana was actually much larger back then), there was a massive state of flux going on in regards to national, ethnic and cultural identity that arguably lasted well into the 20th century. The fact that the state’s government insists on referring to its divisions as parishes and not counties is likely a lingering sign of this period. 

Contrary to popular belief, Cajun and Creole are not the same, and although there are Cajun elements present, New Orleans actually falls in line with the latter culture. The reality of the matter is, Cajuns are the descendants of French Canadians that were exiled from Acadia (modern-day Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Maine), most of whom live in a region known as Acadiana which is west of New Orleans. Louisiana Creoles on the other hand are the descendants of anyone who settled in Louisiana when it was still under French and Spanish rule. Nowadays, the label “Creole” is usually attributed to those of French/African/Spanish/Native American admixture (likely descendants of the fairly large class of free people-of-color that existed in the area prior to the Civil War), but it can actually apply to anyone whose roots in the region can be traced to a time before the early-19th century.

So yes, these are two different ethnic/cultural groups, with much different histories; it would be wise not to confuse the two. There is also a difference between their cooking as well, but it’s a bit......complicated to explain as they have grown SO similar over time. Especially when you consider that very few people outside of Louisiana can even be bothered with the difference in the first place, essentially forcing the Creoles to pander to the stereotype. 

Thanks to the city’s unusual geography (now I understand why it’s called the “Crescent City”), it’s futile to describe anything as being North/South/West/East (example: the so-called West Bank is actually located east of the city). Instead, NOLA operates on its own set of directions. This is something else I would just ask the locals about, as I still don’t quite get it myself. 

Lastly, here’s a handy guide on how to pronounce street names and other things. Trust me, you will need this. Oh, and remember, the streetcar is to always be called the streetcar. Ask for the “trolley” and the locals will have no idea what you’re talking about. 

Well, that concludes my mini-guide for New Orleans. This is a place I honestly think everyone should visit at least once. In the coming weeks, I’ll be detailing more of my personal thoughts and experiences. Until then.