#also not to sound like a massive tool. but- i think 'women fear him. the cia want him' is my favorite thing i've ever written | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

masked-buffoon · 4 years

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Chapter 2: Twisted (Part 4)

Warnings: none...? (enjoy it for now XD)

Author notes: a kind of transition... More action in the next part, I promise!

Dazai-san's office was quiet when I entered, without bothering to knock on the door. It was not yet the middle of the afternoon, and the warm sun rays shone through the imposing bays, bathing the room with bright light. I sat down on the couch and contemplated how peaceful it was without my superior, before demanding my mind to come up with a plan to erase the slave trading company from the world. The orders given by the higher ups of the organisation had been clear; I could not let these people run free, for they had betrayed their contract with us and deserved to pay for our losses. In a way, the whole Port Mafia worked like an enterprise, a business, except it was led by a ruthless man who commanded countless armed men ready to kill on a single word from him. I sighed and closed my eyes. Ambushing them would be quite a difficult task. The location of the warehouse made it impossible to surround with the men and there was a single entrance, heavily guarded. Inside were stored the slaves, from different origins, whom I ideally wanted to spare from the fire, so launching a massive and blind attack was also not an option. Going all out for them in the open was not a wise plan, and I thought eliminating them from the inside was a much better strategy. As such, I had ordered the investigation team to gather information about Samejima Seiji that we could use against him.

For the moment, I could simply rest in the serene atmosphere of the empty office, without worrying about being beaten up by my whimsical executive. Erasing an entire organisation... I was not sure I could do this within a single night, just like Dazai-san and his partner, Nakahara-san, had done some time ago. This achievement had given them the title of sōkoku, double black, the strongest and most feared duo of the underground. I did not possess my superior's extraordinary foresight and intelligence, nor was I half as strong as Nakahara-san. His gravity manipulation ability was made for combat, it was undeniable, whereas mine... I did not even know how it could prove useful, considering I could not even control it. I was worthless, and deserving of the executive looking down at me. At least, if I could succeed this mission on my own, I would perhaps make sure he would not slap me upon returning by the end of the week.

A knock interrupted my train of thoughts and I groaned an annoyed "come in", much like Dazai-san each time someone would bring in a new pile of paperwork. It was Taneda-kun, the subordinate I had scolded in the torture room.

"Ogawa-san... I am there to bring you the intel we gathered about Samejima Seiji." He timidly said, putting the documents on the table in front of me.

"That's a thin file..." I grimaced before sighing.

"The man isn't very interesting..." He conceded "Shall I leave you alone?"

"Please." I nodded.

Once the door closed, I took a look at the information I had requested. There was not much, indeed, nothing exploitable at the very least. He did not even have a family I could have used to lure him into a trap, and despite being able to hack into his offshore accounts, stealing his money would not erase his organisation. As I was thinking about a strategy, at least a dozen of ships all around the world was transporting his slaves, which would bring in another tremendous amount of money. The fact he liked tennis was useless for the Port Mafia as well. The only thing I could use was his lewd tastes for women, but being the head of a slave trading company, he could surely have all the women he wanted for his personal pleasure. Finally, I came to believe it would be easier to drop a bomb on the warehouse and make them disappear all at once.

Once again, a knock disturbed me and, frankly annoyed, I stood up to open the door myself.

"I asked to be left alone —" I started grumbling before cutting myself "Oh. Yamada-san."

"I'm equally pleased to see you, Ogawa-kun. There is someone on the line who requests to talk to you." He gave me his most contemptuous look.

"I have a phone. Why didn't that person call me directly?" I crossed my arms.

"It is rather urgent, so I would appreciate that you do not ask any questions. For my and your sake." He replied curtly.

I was forced to follow him in the corridor, toward his office. It was fancier than Dazai-san's, heavily decorated with luxuries he would not be able to afford, did he not occupy such an important position in the Port Mafia. Without waiting for him to suggest it, I took a seat in front of the desk. He handed me the phone.

"Ogawa Yōko." I introduced myself "I was told you wanted to talk to me."

"Yes, indeed."

My blood froze in my vessels and my hand started shaking uncontrollably as I struggled to keep holding the phone. It could not be... I breathed out and tried to calm myself down. I could not let him hear how frightened I was.

"Dazai-san." I clenched my jaw "What would you want from me?"

"Tell Yamada to leave us alone." He ordered.

I did as told and, as the door closed, brought the phone back to my ear.

"I heard you interrogated a prisoner earlier. Is that right?"

"It is." I nervously tapped my finger against the desk "I gave my written report to Yamada-san and ordered an investigation on Samejima Seiji, the leader of the slave trading company we are after. I also obtained the location of their headquarters."

"I know the details, the report was sent to my mailbox." He stated, making me frown "Which is why I know the man was released. What I want to know is why. You are perfectly aware that we don't let them go."

"I judged he did not need to die and simply made sure he disappeared from Japan." I answered concisely.

"You are a fool for thinking he could be harmless." He scolded me, rather harshly despite his poised tone "Now that he is gone, we can't even know if he isn't going to inform his boss, and any plan we can make won't change the fact we lost the upper hand of surprise effect...!"

I sighed, slightly.

"The man chose China to start his new life with his wife and future child. I made sure they were escorted by our men from Tokyo to Beijing, and also personally called our contact within the Chinese embassy to provide them with a new identity, which means we can find them anytime. Besides, I do not think he would even try to go against us... Not after how I threatened him in the torture room." I explained.

"Oh? And how did you threaten them, Ogawa-kun?" He sounded more curious than angry.

"Oxytocin." I said, staring at a painting on the wall "With his pregnant wife at my mercy, obviously. Then, I crippled him by shooting a bullet in his hip. I made sure to send them a souvenir from their stay among us as well, to remind them we are watching."

"Excellent." He somewhat chuckled at the other side of the line "It seems I was wrong for worrying. Yamada only mentioned you had released our prisoner in the wild, after all, I could not help wanting to question you about your clumsy mistake."

"I understand..." I relaxed a bit "But my report contained everything I told you, including the methods of torture and details about their release... You said you had received it in your mailbox... But it was a handwritten version I had submitted to Yamada-san."

"Is that so? Perhaps I should have a talk with him, then... Anyway, I entrust you with taking care of that company, so no matter what that second in command says, you have free reins." He declared "Try not to disappoint, this time."

"Of course, Dazai-san." I accepted his orders.

Having been officially appointed to the task, I left the office of Yamada-san, not without a slight smirk as I gave him the phone back. Our superior wanted to have a few words with him about the reporting incident, and if he had expected that his false report would have doomed me, his lie would actually get him quite a lecture. However, I knew that he would not be demoted, because Dazai-san needed a stupid pawn he could move as he wished. The greedy man was the perfect tool for that motive, easily controlled and manipulated, quick to kiss up the higher ups and too nearsighted to see he was being played with. Quickly, I made my way back toward the executive's office, the only place where I could focus properly without being disturbed. There was no point in launching an attack on the organisation, we would have to kill them from the inside. I could still exploit his weakness for women and attempt to seduce him — I had been taught by Ane-san herself — but seeing as I lacked many feminine attributes, I would not even be able to get a glance from him. Disguising myself as a slave disgusted me, for I had been in their stead only a few months ago and entering the company undercover sounded like a waste of time. They were not that powerful, it was only the location of the warehouse which made it complicated. Then, I had an idea. Slaves were captured to be sold. As much as I despised this business, it was one of the Port Mafia's most important income, a market a powerful organisation like us could not neglect. Slaves were sent overseas, of course, but there were auctions in Yokohama as well. I had been the product of one of them, so I knew for sure such events occurred. I had seen different kinds of brands on many girls' skin, marking them for life as properties, and I recalled that particular company had been present as well. I only needed to know if they were to participate in another auction soon, or if there was a way to invite them to a scheduled one. Once everything would be settled, it would be my turn to infiltrate the event.

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#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu

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valentinesparda · 4 years

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in reference to this post:

@nougatships oh god oh geez

@kirasgxddess you come here too

listen, I understand nmh is a silly game. it is a sly commentary on video games as a whole and should not be treated as seriously as I am about to but goddammit if I'm not gonna Go Off.

content warnings for discussions of violence and sexuality, but you should know that already, right?

1444 words lets GOOO

“ LET THE BLOODSHED BEGIN! “

yes yes i know Hee Hee he shake his beam katana suggestively he’s a Funny Boy, but in my humble opinion there can and Should be more depth put into him and his character....and for starters I wanna point out the fact that he lays off of the flirting when he knows it isn't being reciprocated / not appropriate. I half expected him to be completely trashy and nonstop sexual but he really doesn't and I....adore that?? for someone like Him who I mean. he's still pretty raunchy and it's the vibe of the game but like. I really appreciate that he has his moments of Badass and also his moments of Weakness

[ re: moments of Badass - he IS shown as being a capable and feared fighter and they don't stray away from that. bro he's so fuckin cool....effortlessly cool and he KNOWS it. he earned his spotlight and i love him

re: moments of Weakness - if i start i wont stop but essentially im referencing the whole “moved by people’s emotional problems” thing that his wiki page mentions / how he treats people who don’t particularly give him reasons to hate them / aren’t necessarily involved in things ]

so like. part of me wants to project and be like "he just likes to have fun because it is his way of coping with trauma" and "he feels like if he isn't being a bit of a dweeb then what is the point" but a bigger part of me is obviously going to say that he’s like That because he’s written that way. but also. if no one I going to respect you for who you are or what you do and if you're going to live with trauma then might as well have a little fun right?? I mean for gods sake the whole "just because we're assassins doesn't mean we're worth nothing" [ lit. "Assassins aren't tools. As fucked up as we may be, we're HUMANS, too!" ] comment kinda puts a pin in that. he doesn't like feeling like he's used as a tool. everyone else does it because they've got personal vendettas [ which, admittedly, the whole bishop scenario ] or, re: “you’re just a perverted killing maniac” to badgirl, blah blah. he doesn’t do it to actively cause harm; that said, if you’re in his way, you’re in his way. he does it cause it's fun and because he knows he can fall back onto it. he does it for the money and he does it for the memory, and so what if he wants a little bit of fame??

[ I would love to comment on the whole "man he REALLY likes to fight" thing / the commentary on senseless violence being seen as an inherent urge and the parallels to his sexuality / equating violence to sexuality but if I did we would be here all day and I also would sound completely nuts ]

also travis has shown himself to be almost flighty and this gets me to thinking....would he really be in it for the long term?? all he ever talks about is immediate gratification / multiple imaginary flings [ fantasizing about having multiple women around him if he ever hit it big at the beginning of the first game, asking for sylvia to just let him hit it Once becky lemme smash.mp4 ], so like. why would he ever attempt to keep up appearances and pursue a relationship with killian?

let's be real; dude has been out on his own for far too long and he's incredibly touch starved. this is going to manifest in massive amounts of unresolved sexual and emotional frustration and just a lack of positive physical and emotional relationships so of course he will cope however he can. bro, sylvia all but promised that he would get laid and he did whatever she wanted him to do. so once killian shows him that they could and want to - in some way - reciprocate those feelings and balance out what he had been lacking, of course he'll grow attached.

so that all said before I make myself upsetti spaghetti, travis doesn't normally let things get to him. and yeah he might be a little bloodthirsty himself but what's a guy to do. it's the Spirit of the Fight. he sees the humanity in the people that he goes up against and idk man that is something that goes overlooked a lot. it's something in his character that I personally adore. and in the end, he Does care about the people closest to him and he’d do anything for them [ as prominently seen with entirety of nmh2 ]. he’s still incredibly attentive and while he might be a little stupid and hot-headed, he has compassion and he isn’t afraid to be himself. he knows how to have fun. he's talented, he's stylish, he knows it, but he also knows that at the end of the day it really is just a job and a choice and being an assassin doesn’t have to make a person who they are.

travis feels so blessed that he gets to see killian at their most relaxed, that he is the reason that killian smiles. he thinks that their stubborn nature and how quick they are to fluster is adorable and once he bites past that hard exterior and knows what buttons he needs to press to get them to open up, he exploits the hell out of it, and killian could not be happier. hell, at one point [ not that he would ever know it because if killian told him they would die on the spot ] travis was almost the only thing motivating them. even if they have trouble showing it, and even if they didn't become lovers, killian would still have travis as a friend and would still cherish every moment.

travis also likes killian because they balance him out pretty well. they can hold their own and they also see the Business as just a Job or a side hustle but he can also see that they might be a little more in their element in the playing field than they'd like to admit. sure they're hot, they're really kinda mean and a little scary which isn’t normally his type, but they're also capable of being sweet and genuine and out of almost everyone else he has met they're the ONE person who still sees him for him. they don't see the crownless king, they really just see this ordinary 20-something loser who collects figures and likes wrestling and drinks and eats fast food and has a cat and cracks jokes like it may as well be the end of the world and that is something he holds dear to him. they give him what he really enjoys: a fight first and foremost, that’s not something that’s gonna go away, but also a similar soul not to yoink a concept from the first game or anything who treats him the way he really wants to be treated - as a person. not a killer, not a legend, but a man. he appreciates that.

no, even moreso - he adores that. above all else.

[ less important things i want to mention, but because i feel like it is necessary to say and someone might ask: other things that travis likes about killian are their love for soft things, their thighs and body in general, their tenacity, and most of all, their heart. ]

ugh i’m aware that it’s all not that deep, i really am, but travis deserves someone who is gonna treat him like a person first and foremost and also be capable of cheering him on no matter what he does. despite a lot of shit that he DOES do, he still has a moral compass that he follows and by god does he really just need someone there for him. and maybe praise him a little bit. he’s lonely, man.

i-if i say any more i’ll start getting really embarrassed, so i’m gonna leave it right here and maybe pick up on it some other time. i’m just....i’m mainly mad at how weird sylvia is written and to be honest travis deserves better, so that’s where i’m coming in.

TL;DR: to summarize, travis is - at his core - lonely and looking for someone who is gonna treat him like a person rather than as the Crownless King, the No More Hero, but also respects him and thinks he’s cool. someone who he can geek out with as well as have fun with [ in more ways than one, of course ], and he himself will give them the same amount of respect that he gets in return.

#el.txt #otp: never let go #long post

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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An original story?

I finally have the time to answer the question @mrsevenplus7 asked about if I ever thought about creating an original story or world; the answer is most definitely! There’s several worlds over the years that I’ve created in my head and written things about. There’s one in particular that leans towards fantasy but still has realistic elements. (Keep in mind this concept was originally thought of when I was in middle and completely infatuated with RWBY/Final Fantasy. I’m in college now 💀) I apologize in advance for the words vomit.

Breakthrough

World building

This is a world that geographically speaking is much like ours. Rolling hills, scorching deserts, icy tundras, vast oceans, ect. Since the beginning, the make up of this world could be credited to eight elemental crystals. Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Lightning, Ice, Light, and Darkness.

Man since the beginning of their discovery of these crystals saw them as divine entities that helped them survive by giving them the potential to become stronger. It would’ve sound a bit ridiculous, if it wasn’t literally true. Around a certain age the human body gained an affinity to one of the crystals that manifested in a variety of ways. An ice user can be particularly skilled in creating objects out of the element while another used the property of snow. A fire user might envelope themselves in flames while a second user creates explosions. Even those with similar manifestations find unique ways to differentiate themselves through unique qualities of simple just being different people. It was quickly noticed the four basic elements were slightly more common than the others if only by a relatively small margin. Despite all the differences, one thing remained constant for all humans beings. An untapped potential that ran to the very essence of their power.

Many could feel this potential inside of them. These internal barriers that capped of the limits of their abilities. Some precived them as walls, while others envisioned them as chains or a fence but it was all the same. In time, people learned that with training of the body, the mind, their powers, and discovering a better idea of themselves, it was possible to overcome one barrier after another. They could break through and gain more power. This began an age of self improvement and technological advances. Knowledge was shared throughout the world. Civilizations expanded in even the most unlikely of places and it was common to mostly find people with the same affinity creating and living in places tailored for their needs.

Full blown cities that ran predominantly off of electricity. Fishing settlements and tribes that never feared the mysteries of the oceans thanks to their water control. Many other remarkable feats were achieved in the far future because of the power granted by the crystals. However, before humanity didn’t get to that glory over night. Before they reached the height of their progress they had to face the natural horrors of this world that went beyond the regular wildlife. The crystals might have given them strength, but it could also be the bane of their existence.

The elements itself had also taken the form of vast wildlife creatures that more often than not ruined what humans tried to build and seemed to have a natural aggression towards the species in general. Stallions made of earth with the power to cause tremors or mudslides as they stampede. Massive gust of winds that took the shape or large birds. Wolves that faded into shadows and stalked in the dead of night. Some “Elementals” were more difficult to dispose of then others but none could be taken lightly. A greater danger awaited once one was killed. Their bodies simply became like the element it was constructed out of and a black miasma like substance was expelled. Inhaling a small out was enough to hinder people and cause an incurable sickness that effects their powers. Inhale too much and your being would succumb and turn you into Humanoid Elemental that was devoid of any soul or the humanity they once had. All they had left was the strength they had acquired and a higher intelligence. It was one such monster that changed the course of history forever.

In universe lore

Something had happen back in the days where man was still getting the fundamentals tapping into their potential. Tales of a being in the form of a woman that had unlocked their full power spread across the globe. Not only that, but it had the power of all the elements and was laying destruction to any who barred its path. Such a tale was seen as just that, a tale. No one was ever that had the powers of each crystal. Also, such a person would surly had to have had some kind of spiritual balance if they had unlocked the end of their potential. Yet as ridiculous as it was, it soon couldn’t be ignored.

Slowly the weather became more treacherous. Stories of men, women, and children seemingly vanishing out of nowhere turned into entire villages being erased from the map. There was something out there and no one who has seen it lived to talk about it. The days themselves began to change which would bring on two more phenomena that were signaled by the moon. In the span of a month two events occurred. A blue moon that bathed the land in a light that enhanced powers for a full day. Then a red moon that did the same for the Elementals. All these strange things that could not be explained continued to raise more questions until humanity was given an answer in the form of a foe. Someone had finally lived to tell their tale. A battered man who was approaching deaths door.

He spoke about how a young woman with red eyes and ghost white hair came strolling into his village; the one closest to the wind crystal. The woman wore nothing but a worn out robe and her skin looked the color of bone. The only thing in her possession was an odd tool which would later be known as a scythe. Somehow she seemed drawn to crystal and new exactly where to go. His people forbade direct contact with it like all homelands did that were founded around it but she did not care. When warriors came to deter her, they were met with the same sight as anyone else. The look of a weeping women, then an instant death. The man didn’t see when she moved her arm but he felt the wind come off the attack before being sent flying and nearly blacking out. Barely conscious enough to see his people be slaughtered by Elementals of every type that obeyed her faithfully for she had created several before his eyes. The tale was true and terrifying. That woman continued to press on until it made contact with the wind crystal and caused the formation of a storm like no other. Not once did she ever smile. Only tears. But the man had seen something in her. An evil that ran deep and twisted as the darkest parts of humanity itself. Was this woman, this creature ever human? Or was it an Elemental that started off like this from the beginning? Stronger, faster, aware.....he asked it what it’s name was and it only said one thing. “Sin”

The man died shortly after telling the story but it had done the job it needed to, call people to action. Brave warriors everywhere rose to face this new threat and the beasts it brought along. Many of them confident in their unlocked potential to bring the being known as Sin down to its knees. Countless tried, and they failed. Hundreds upon hundreds either fell in a battle they weren’t prepared for or defending what they could. Soon all the crystals were thrown into a state of shock and the world ran rapid with extreme weather for years; humanity pushed to the brink and Sin vanished. It should’ve been the end. Until one day, one man met seven people and became legends.

This man have had enough of living in despair. Watching his people endure ever since the day he was born was painful. Being born in the tundra and granted power over ice meant weather was always an extreme to overcome from the start, but not like this. It was only possible with the help of trade from other villages which was all but destroyed. So he trained. He trained physically and mentally from the time he was a teenager until he was mid twenties like if it was his destiny to change things. Then one day he decided to finally put it to the test. The man traveled acrossd the icy landscape until he reached the coldest place near the center; the ruined homeland where the crystal still rest. Guarding it was massive and ferocious ice Elemental in the form of a snow fox. The man should’ve been dead on the spot. He was only armed with scythe as a way to tell the world that it could achieve power as boundless as Sin. Perhaps it was that belief that was the key. He slayed the beast and brought a calm to the crystal once more. It was a harrowing experience and he had partly a blue moon to think for it but he did it nonetheless. He showed the world that they weren’t gonna die so easily. And so began his journey.

The man sailed of to locate the other crystals and start putting the world back in order. Calming the crystal had brought him more understanding of his power and that brought greater strength. This brought him to a grassy plain where another who was tired of living in fear wanted to make a change and asked to join him on this quest. Despite how many times he denied this middle aged man the right to travel along, the ice warrior could not get rid of him! Days passed before they reached the wind crystal and encountered another deadly Elemental guarding it. This time it was a was a massive wind condor. The ice man thought beating it would be a simple task but he was wrong. It had nearly cost him his life if wasn’t for the older man by his side. Not only did he control wind as well, but he managed to deliver the final blow needed with the iceman’s scythe and brought another crystal to peace. He too seemed to have grown from the experience and found new strength. The two of them continued on as equals to save the world.

The power of wind meant sailing to the ruins of island of the water crystal possible without the destruction of their boat. However, they needed a proper guide of the sea and found that in a young women who also wanted to make a change. The three of them sailed of together and the beginning of a pattern started to form. It wasn’t that humanity had given up fighting, but finding those with the will and means to go on was scarce. It was hard to self improve when so much tragedy fell around you. Like the last two, an Elemental stood in their way but together they bested it and their new teammate managed to calm the crystal.

The cycle repeated. For each crystal they traveled to, someone eager and ready to join tagged along. Each time the ice warrior was wary but grew to appreciate their help. A menacing Elemental of unique form tried to kill them but never got the chance. They knew that it wasn’t just random animals either. It was always indigenous to the region and more importantly, had a sinister and potent miasma unleashed from them that was more dangerous than the regular foes they encountered. As the group slowly grew, they learned from each other. Their lives, likes, dislikes, training, skills, dreams, fears..... it was all shared. They had become friends. All of them more than capable of learning how to use a scythe in order to spread the ice warrior’s beliefs. Sometimes they faught but they would make up. The team eventually became eight strong; one for each crystal type. All that was left was light. Seven out of eight had gained exceptional strength from calming their crystal and they felt ready for anything. Not because of their individual strength, but because a new power they had discovered over the three year long journey of saving the world.

Working together, truly connecting with each other. It allowed for something that the warrior of water and darkness people believed in; they could use each other’s powers in combination with their own. The technique was difficult and way more straining than other things they had learned. Not to mention it was only possible to use one other power at a time, but done right had amazing results. Results they did not know they would need for the final Elemental. The group found themselves walking up a huge tower known as The Stairway to Heaven. It was here that the light crystal resided, but not guarded the same way as rest. No, instead it was guarded by a familiar set of blood red eyes and ghostly appearance. Sin stood in their way. It had been here the entire time. Only this time it was bathed in a brilliant holy light with seven dark pools around it. The aura it gave off was immediately recognized as whatever remained from the previous Elementals. Sin had divided its power in an effort to defend the crystal; all this time they had been fighting the being that was supposed to have vanished years ago. Now it was back at complete strength.

The group did not waver; not even the warrior of light who had still yet to awaken her power by the crystal. It was now or never. Save the world or die trying. The only thing left to do before the fight was ask why? Why had this creature throw the world into such chaos. “If you have the potential to do anything, why shouldn’t you do everything? Destroy it all and create from the ruble.” The answer was unsettling. Any person with simple morals and able to have achieved such power surly would’ve known being able to do something did not inheritly mean they should. The warriors asked what exactly was it. Human gone Elemental? An Elemental in the form of man? It simply grabbed itself and embraced the dark pools of its fallen counterparts. A range of emotions washing across its face before settling on a mournful expression. “I am the end result.”

The battle was fierce and savage. Nature itself seemed to scream as all it had to give was being used to clash with in a way, itself. Landscapes changed, wildlife ran, the battle could be seen for miles. Somehow in all the chaos the heroes managed to calm the final crystal; gaining a slight edge that slowly kept building. Sin had faced many people but none like this. It wasn’t their strength that overwhelmed it, or the eight to one odds. It was there teamwork; the bond allowed them to use each other’s abilities and perform feats like no one had seen at the time. Things that could not be learned alone. In the end, it led to Sin’s demise. A lethal blow dealt by all of them that render Sin unstable and fading, but with a catch.

“Power like mine does not fade. Sin does not fade....it festers” the miasma shot off into seven pieces once more and found its way into all the warriors except for the Ice warrior. Stricken with fear, he watched his closest friends writhe in agony as they desperately tried to hold onto their humanity as temptation at away at their soul. Wrath, Lust, Pride, Gluttony, Sloth, Envy, and Greed. Still connected through their bond, he couldn’t help but feel all the suffering inside of himself. What could he do? Was this really the end? Tears started to well up before a voice called out to him. “It’s okay...” it was the first to join his journey, the wind warrior. More called out to him. “Don’t let this be in vain.” said water

“You know what you must do...” Darkness cried out.

“Trust our bond.” Earth said calmly

“Alone we might not be strong enough.” Lightning said wary.

“Together though, we’ll stand.” Light exhaled exhausted.

“So what are you waiting for?” Fire proclaimed.

All of them gave their leader one final look of relief; satisfied with the end results as they seem more radiant than any crystal. The leader had no words. Only resolve as he took hold of his weapon and stood ready. Their eyes said all that was left to be said. “I can’t believe we did it.” He made it swift, and cut them all down in one slice. The world was finally returned to normal.

Humanity rejoiced. Finally it could once again get on track to growing strong and mighty. Many searched for the brave heroes they had to thank for this accomplishment but only found their weapons; each taken and placed by a crystal in honor of them. As for the ice warrior, he simply vanished. No one could find him. When people eventually reached the ice crystal it had his scythe mysteriously placed there with no clue how. He must’ve been alive somewhere. Legend says the man took ahold of the seven sins and placed them inside himself for the sake of the world, but he did not lose his mind. He simply wandered off. That the bond he had with the team he grew to love was beyond death and kept the sins in check within him. It also said that the man spread knowledge of the abilities his friends cultivated and is why we have them today. Now anyone who dares learn how to wield a scythe do so in the heroess’ honor and belief that unlocking one’s full potential means facing the odds with comrades.

As for the fallen heroes, they are clearly not forgotten. Some people believe their will lives on apart of the crystal and will grant strength to a select few who rise to the challenge of beating the odds.

Phew 😅

That was more tiring than I thought. That was just explaining the world and some extremely important lore but I never actually talked about the main characters, the plot, how powers work on a more conceptual level, or the setting. Maybe I’ll make a second one of these if you all really, and I mean really want more. Looking back at this I have realized something staggering. Aspects from this story have bled over into my many AU’s. I’m talking down to the idea of mental headspace and two very specific characters that I know realize somewhat live through Yujin and Tenzen; fighting wise anyways. (Personality too for Yujin which is nuts and I don’t know how to handle that. They are even blonde.)

#razor rambles #my oc’s #breakthrough #ask me stuff #fanfiction #i told you all this ran deep and im crazy

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

Isolation update!

Day 74 of Isolation on Tracy Island

“What on earth are you two doing?” Gordon asked, popping up out of nowhere like a tropical jack-in-the-box, his shirt flapping in the breeze, making us both jump.

We were doing nothing more exciting than stretching out on the couch, where I had forced John to settle by laying on him and then demanded he read to me. And since that was actually a pretty normal occurrence, I was at a loss as to what he was referring to. Knowing him he'd just declared today to be "eat with your toes day" or something equally ridiculous and was annoyed we weren't playing along.

John stopped reading to glare at him. I lifted my head off his shoulder to join in with the glaring.

“We were trying to have a quiet moment without constant interruptions,” I told him. Why did he have to have so many brothers?

“I told you we should have gone up to Five for a few days,” John sighed, picking up the book again and continuing to read from where he had left off. I snuggled closer to listen.

“This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill,

Why hath it given me earnest of success,

Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.

If good, why do I yield to that suggestion

Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair

And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,

Against the use of nature? Present fears

Are less than-”

“That! That’s what I meant. What are you doing?” Gordon interrupted again.

“Trying to read Macbeth, obviously,” I grumbled.

“Why? It’s rubbish. No one reads that sort of thing any more.”

“Sure they do. Did you not read Shakespear in highschool?” I asked.

“Only when I had to, not for fun," he sneered that last word in the same tone people use when they have just trodden in something disgusting or realised there is no milk left in the house.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” I told him.

“You two are so weird, there are billions of books out there and you are reading one so old that hardly anyone can even understand it any more.”

“We understand it, or we wouldn't be reading it,” John sighed. “It’s not our fault that it’s too intellectual for you.”

“I could understand it just fine if I wanted to!” Gordon protested. We snorted in disbelief. “Hey! I can be an intellectual too, I can be smart. Move over!”

He shoved our legs out of the way, forcing us to sit up and dropped down next to me on the couch.

“Do you have to be here?” John asked.

“Yes. I’m going to prove that I’m smart, keep reading.”

John sighed but continued where he had left off, obviously knowing that there is very little point arguing with him.

“Are less than horrible imaginings.

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical.

Shakes so my single state of man.

That function is smothered in-”

“Nope! I can’t do it! It’s just so boring!” Gordon wailed.

“Heathen!” I smacked him with a cushion.

“Out of my sight! Thou doth infect my eyes!” John flicked his forehead.

“What was that?” Gordon asked, beginning to laugh. “Did you just insult me in your weird Shakespear language?”

"Yes, because we invented old English," I sighed.

“Thou art a dull and muddy-mettled rascal.”

“Did you just call me stupid in old english?”

“Yep,” I grinned. “He did. It isn't boring, Shakespear is a total G.”

“Yeah, right, still sounds boring to me.”

“Macbeth is a masterpiece, it's about a Scottish dude and his mate who meet these three witches and they, out of the goodness of their hearts, give him a prophecy telling him that he’ll become king of Scotland but that his mate will father a whole line of Scottish kings but won't be king himself. Feeling like this is totally his destiny he isn’t prepared to wait it out and see what happens, he wants to be king now, so, with the urging of his wife, he kills the king and his mate. He is crowned but he becomes overwhelmed with guilt and paranoia. He goes back to the witches and they tell him that he must beware of some other dude named Macduff but that Macbeth is incapable of being harmed by any man born of a woman. So Maccy B, he gets a bit cocky and thinks it's all good for a while, even though Macbeth’s wife is going a little cray cray and taking the whole handwashing thing a wee bit too seriously. But then Macduff gets in on the action and brings an army with him, they storm the castle and Macduff tells old Bethy that he was born by cesarean-”

“Untimely ripped from his mother's womb,” John added.

“And Duffy beheads Macbeth and this other dude named Malcom that I forgot to mention, becomes king. See? It’s great!”

“Love, you just butchered Shakespear so badly that even I didn’t understand half of what you just said.”

“It’s my gift to the world,” I shrugged. “My ability to sum up a plot so badly that even I’m not sure if it makes sense. But I thought I did OK with that one.”

“Yeahhh, not so much,” Gordon teased. “I tuned you out three words in.”

“John, insult your brother for me, I am no longer talking to him.”

“Thou yeasty folly-fallen bladder.”

“How dare you, sir! I have no idea what that means but it sounds bad.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“What’s the point?” Scott chose that moment to walk in, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“John is insulting me!”

“What did you do?”

“Insulted him.”

“I was asking Gordon.”

I cracked up laughing, Scott always has our backs.

“He said that Shakespeare was boring and then was mean to me after I took the time to explain the plot to him. Now I’m not talking to him.”

“Did you explain it the same way you explained The Witches of Eastwick to Virgil? Because I’d seen it and I didn’t understand that either.”

“My talents are wasted on you all,” I nudged John and quirked an eyebrow in Scott’s direction. He rolled his eyes but dutifully dragged out a premium insult.

“Sense sure you haven else could not have motion; but sure that sense is apoplex’d. ”

“Oh my god, you can still do that?” Scott laughed in amazement.

“Do what, insult people?” Gordon asked, clearly confused.

“John was in a Shakespearean insult team in highschool, they actually took part in competitions, he was obviously the champion, won them the league and a bust of Shakespeare’s head as a trophy.”

“Obviously,” I agreed, patting his hand proudly. “Dude got mad skills.”

Gordon's eyes flicked up to the bookshelf on the balcony above our heads where a small gold bust sat.

“You are so weird.”

“So you frequently tell me. Now, will you two kindly go away and leave us in peace?”

“Oh no, no way,” Scott laughed. “I want to hear more, in fact, I’m calling the others.”

And that’s the story of how John spent more than three hours blowing their minds and damaging their egos with a never ending volley of insults as they goaded him into more and more outlandish attacks. Here are some of the best.

Thou hath not so much brain as ear wax - to Gordon because he’s not intelligent enough to appreciate old english.

Thou qualling ill-nurtured lout - to Alan who kept chanting “me next, me next”.

Most shallow man! Thou worms-meat in respect of a good piece of flesh indeed- to Virgil because he was in the middle of trying to tame his hair when he was summoned.

Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver’d boy - to Scott because he was brave enough to attempt to insult him back.

Thou fawning spur-galled harpy!- at me when I stole his coffee

You should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so- to all of them.

Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters- to me, because I’m a strange, strange lady and asked for another insult.

Thou fusty onion-eyed nut-hook! - at Virgil, no reason at all.

Draw thy tool. My naked weapon is out- after flipping a certain finger at Scott.

Thou wimpled bat-fowling puttock- at Gordon because it was his fault that John was stuck insulting people when he had just wanted a quiet afternoon.

Thou currish bade-court hedge-pig- at Alan while examining his chin growth.

What, you egg! Young fry of treachery! - at Alan when he sided with Gordon.

Assume a virtue if you have it not- at Gordon when he protested his innocence.

Thou artless tickle-brained haggard! - at Virgil when he compared John’s nose to Shakespeare’s massive hooter.

Thou villainous weather-brained barnacle!- at Gordon, just because, and now everyone is calling him a weather-brained barnacle.

Get thee to a nunnery- to me when I said his Shakespearean accent was strangely hot.

Thou puny rampallian baggage- at Gordon, for no reason other than he’s short.

Thou art some fool, I am loath to beat thee- at Scott when he attempted to start a Shakespearean rap battle (don’t ask, it didn’t last long)

Thine face is not worth sunburning- to Virgil who thinks he’s too cool for sunscreen and has a red nose because he fell asleep in the sun again.

You yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am if like a crab you could go backwards- at Jeff who wanted to know just what the heck was happening in his lounge and why we were all screaming with hysterical laughter.

I scorn you, scurvy companion. What, you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you moldy rogue away!- at Alan when he tried to steal one of John’s cookies while he was distracted.

Away, you bottle-ale rascal, you filthy bung, away!- At Gordon when he also attempted cookie theft.

The insult lashes came to a halt when Grandma called us for dinner.

“Hey, John?” Gordon whispered as we bundled down the stairs to the kitchen

“Yeah?”

“I dare you to insult Grandma’s cooking.”

“No, my love, it’s not worth it, think of the children!” I gasped.

“What children?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

I shrugged. “Our non-existent children, I just thought I'd go full movie heroine for dramatic effect. You do what you want, you’re all crazy.”

He narrowed his eyes as he thought about it, then nodded. I should have known, no Tracy can resist a dare.

Grandma plonked down plates of something that might have been chicken, but also might have been sausages in a gravy for gruel straight out of a Dickensean nightmare.

I watched John out of the corner of my eye. Would he actually do it? He took a deep breath, as if psyching himself up for it. I couldn't blame him. He pushed the plate away and opened his mouth.

“Away, you starvelling, you elf-skin, you dried neat’s-tongue, bull’s-pizzle, you stock-fish! Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.”

I think John’s grounded now, but the boys still haven't stopped laughing...

#savage john is savage #Shakespearean insults #john tracy #gordon tracy #Thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #Thunderbirds in isolation #isolation island #social isolation #john tracy appreciation society

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scripttorture · 5 years

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So. I have this story where MC is a slaveborn, was bought by a powerful man at the age of 7. This man basically planned on training him as a soldier - in the long run - to use him for his State-sponsored PMC's dirtiest missions, the ones where there's high mortality risk and the actions must not be linked to the company, etc. Training is harsh and brutal, it's full of horror and humiliation and it does involve torture, because they are trying to make MC "resistant to pain and interrogation [1/6]

byenemies" (I know it doesn’t work that way, but these individualsare torturers themselves, they believe in these methods.) This beingsaid, in my story this man kind of succeeds in coercing andbrow-beating MC into compliance and deference (meaning that he’ll endup doing a host of shitty things for the PMC), he convinces MC he’snothing more than a property, a tool to be used in various ways forthe efficiency and safety of the city, and so on. BUT. What I’mtrying to do here is [2/6]presentingthis kind of mental process as a result of *abuse* (and pre-existingabuse also, i.e. being born in slavery), not *torture.* I mean, Iwant to make it clear that MC’s personality, identity and willpowerget gradually crushed because of his terribly young age (and the factthat every tie he had previously with family and friends getssevered, much like it happens to actual child soldiers) that makeshim prone to manipulation (not as in ‘brainwashing’ but as in'gaslighting and [3/6]weaponizationof guilt complexes and a lot of nasty stuff that actually mighthappen even in a more common scenario like domestic child abuse’),because he’s put in a do or die situation where he has no choice butfollow through with orders otherwise he dies, until he actuallystarts internalizing the whole situation and it slowly becomes dailyroutine. I guess that what I’m asking is: how does this sound to you?How can I write it effectively so that it’s blatantly clear thattorture/pain [4/6]arepart of MC’s ordeal but they’re not the reason he ends up obeying?Because I know that torture doesn’t change hearts and minds, I don’twanna paint that picture. It has to be more about surviving andadapting and believing in something because it feels there’s nofuture - and no past - beyond that. (I want to reassure you that Ihave already picked symptoms for MC and that during his time as thisman’s slave he’ll never stop trying to enact passive resistance, eventhough actively [5/6]hedoes what he’s told and he kind of believes he has no right to deemit bad and he deserves it etc. I mean, this is not going to be just astory about a broken victim who does nothing but be his Master’s toy– it’s going to be a story about finding awareness, finding thestrength to fight back and break free and oppose to this wholesystem. It just starts, and for a very large swathe stays, in a worseplace.) [6/6]

Hi.I’m the anon who sent that 7-part ask about the enslaved boy boughtby a PMC. I re-read my words and I realized there was room formisunderstandings: when I said “who planned on using him aschild soldier” what I actually meant was “he started totrain MC very harshly since he was 7 and MC did take somewhat distantpart in military actions during his childhood as part of a'observe&learn’ process, but he wasn’t scheduled for active dutyon his own until he was a teenager. Just to be clearer!

Thank you for the clarification but just to be 100% clear that is being a child soldier according to the legal definition.

Child soldiers are not always used for front line active combat. Sometimes they’re used as messengers, cooking or cleaning staff, to transport equipment or a variety of other things that aren’t active combat. But all of these count. Whether a child used by an army fights or not they are a child soldier.

For the purposes of story telling it is a useful distinction to make. I understand exactly why you’ve made it. But keeping the legal definition in mind helps because it broadens the scope of sources you can use.

If you were ruling out accounts by child soldiers age 7 before, on the grounds that they were probably fighting- You’ve now got a whole new host of things that apply.

I put together a list of books and other sources on child soldiers in this post here. You might find them useful.

You might also get something from Kara’s books on modern slavery. I’d suggest Modern Slavery: A Global Perspective as the most relevant simply because it covers a broader range then his other two books.

You’ve given me a really helpful level of detail here and before I go any further I wanted to thank you for that.

It’s clear that you know you’ve picked a difficult plot. But everything you’ve describe sounds possible to me.

I think a lot of the difficulty with these plots is wrapped up in that: ‘possible’. There’s a strong tendency for authors to treat these extreme scenarios as black and white.

They ‘heroically’ resist (to the point they’re unaffected) or they’re ‘broken’ and become a passive object. Too often we write about these scenarios as if they can produce one definite, sure-fire outcome.

The truth is messy. Compliance is part of that mess.

Because it’s possible but it’s never certain. And it’s often narratively tempting to cut out the complexity, to make things nice and simple and easy to write. Which does everyone a disservice.

I’ve read anecdotes from a few anti-slavery activists describing how some slavers hire fake aid workers/anti-slavery activists to try and make their victims too scared to seek help. And it does intimidate some victims, but some still try to escape and some still succeed.

And you can show those different responses here.

Your main character complies but in the kind of setting you’ve described he’s far from the only slave. And since the MC is in this situation for years he would meet others, he’d hear stories. You can establish that his response is not the only response by mentioning others as background details.

Here are some possibilities.

Seeing other enslaved people physically resist or attempting escape.

Hearing rumours about successful escapes.

News stories or rumours about attacks on slavers.

Rumours about anti-slavery activists.

Fleeting contact with anti-slavery activists.

Those probably all sound a bit obvious so let me put them in context with some summarised anecdotes.

A lot of the women Kara interviewed as part of his work on modern slavery described seeing escape attempts. Most of these stories ended with the victim being caught by slavers, tortured and killed. This was often done in view of the enslaved women in an attempt to intimidate them.

In most cases the enslaved women didn’t actually see the escape attempt itself and weren’t always aware how many other women were held. Which means that the slavers were creating a sort of pattern; the majority of escape attempts the women heard about ended in them watching the person who tried to escape die.

When enslaved black people in the American south were fleeing north a lot of southern slavers responded with rumour campaigns. They told slaves that the people who successfully escaped were worse off.

I haven’t read enough of those rumours to say if there was a pattern to them. But the ones I remember were addressed towards specific, undeniable escapes. They (completely falsely) said things like, the escapee was homeless, jobless and isolated. They described them starving and begging for food-

This was all designed to discourage escape attempts by creating the impression escapees were worse off then slaves.

One of the things that seems consistent about historical slavery in the Caribbean and Brazil is how goddamn paranoid white people were. There was a massive and pervasive fear of uprisings and also smaller scale violence such as poisonings.

The impression I get is that slavers were so afraid of this and talked about it so often that it would have been impossible for slaves to be unaware of these fears. This might not have been helpful to anyone actually planning something but it can be used in a story to add to that background impression that other responses are possible.

All of these are things that can be worked in with short scenes or a few sentences.

Once you have that background of other possible responses you can start weaving them in with the reasons why this character isn’t acting in those ways.

Personally I think that part is the harder task.

I tend to emphasise that people in highly abusive situations are still making choices. I believe that is true. But these are not free choices.

It’s a lot easier to falsely position something as a free choice (and hence attach blame) or falsely position the character as completely controlled (and hence defined by the abuser). I think a lot of well meaning authors fall into one trap or the other. Recognising it as you’ve done is essential. But- keeping that balance is always going to be hard.

A lot of this will come down to execution and how the piece comes across to individual readers. Whenever that’s the case I recommend finding people to read over your stories and check that the scenes are working the way you want them to. I’ve found face to face writing groups very helpful. If that’s not an option for you then a good beta reader (or several) is the next best thing.

But back to the question of writing coercion. Let me put in some examples of how that constrained thought process could be used for your story.

The character’s seven at the beginning. Let’s say that he’s young the first time he sees an escape attempt. It’s well thought out and planned, it involves multiple people. He’s told he can’t come because he’s too small and too slow, he’ll slow everyone else down. But it’s exciting seeing this, for a moment he looks up to these people more then anyone else in the world-

And then they get caught. And he sees them murdered or tortured for attempting to escape.

He gets older. Life is horrible and hard. But he keeps hearing stories about how much worse it is if you get away.

I’m not sure whether you’ve got a more urban or rural setting here but either way you can come up with horror stories about exposure, lack of food and lack of clean water.

As an example of each- In the winter in some Russian cities someone who collapses at night can just end up covered in snow, frozen solid and not found until the spring (that’s an urban legend I’m unsure how true it is). In rural Europe ripe deadly nightshade berries look almost like blueberries and can be found in a lot of hedges. They taste sweet and the poison only kicks in hours later. In parts of South America fresh water pools can hold a brain eating amoeba, there’s no treatment or cure for it. The organism gradually eats you away.

These sorts of stories mix in with the reality of being enslaved: the exhaustion, the hunger and the way that hunger and exhaustion can combine to produce intense apathy. When doing anything is difficult then actually acting on ways to escape can become too hard, too triggering, too risky.

Someone new sneaks into the compound and tells stories about how they’re going to help people escape, who wants to come? And may be the MC wants to, he thinks about it. But fear can paralyse and he doesn’t know if he can trust this stranger.

A few days later the stranger vanishes and everyone who said ‘yes’ to them is publicly punished. Not making the attempt starts to look like wisdom.

Bring up the legitimate fears anyone trying to leave an abusive situation has when they’ve spent their life dependant on the abuser.

How is he going to eat? Where is he going to stay? How will he ever get the money he needs to survive? What happens if he gets ill or injured, who would possibly want to take care of him? If he fails won’t it make things worse? If he succeeds won’t people come after him? What if he’s caught again? What if running away just puts him in the hands of another abuser? What happens to the people he’s grown up with if he escapes? Will they be punished in his place?

Whenever people ask why victims ‘don’t just leave’ they ignore these questions. And they are real questions.

Show that. Mix practical assessment of his chances with a paralysing stream of anxiety based around all the ways every single step of an escape could go wrong.

Show how goddamn scary the unknown and lack of support (of everyone he’s ever known) can be.

If you’re worried about readers interpreting this as due to pain or torture rather than deep, practical fears- Well this character is enslaved for a very long time. Much longer then the modern average (across types of slavery it’s around four and a half years, for debt bondage it’s a little over five). He’s not going to stay in one constant emotional state for that entire time.

If you’re leaning in to depressive symptoms and the apathy things like starvation can cause then you can use torture and it’s aftermath to show a sudden, shocking surge of anger, aggression. You can show it sparking, however briefly, a will to rebel.

Even without that symptom set I think you could use it in this way. You could have him actually acting a little and getting half way through escape preparations before bottling a couple of days later.

Wrapping this up-

It’s clear you’ve put a lot of thought into this story. You’ve read up at least a little on the subject matter. You’re concerned about doing it justice. That’s completely understandable.

Don’t let your concern or the fear that you might do a bad job paralyse you.

Write.

You’ll make mistakes in the process. That’s OK. Writing is a learning process and the beautiful thing about it is that we can always go back and correct our mistakes.

You’ve set yourself up for a long and difficult project. But it is achievable. Break it down. Tackle it a little at a time. Take breaks. Seek advice from other writers.

You can do this.

I hope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#Anonymous #tw torture #tw child abuse #tw child soldiers #tw slavery #coercion #compliance #compliance under threat #writing victims

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iamcrimelord · 5 years

Text

Bloodborne: Ardenti Sanguine Chapter 2

It was two days till the night of the hunt and Daigo decided to go down the streets and survey the city. The first thing he noticed was that they simply LOVED statues. Most of them of shrouded figures that seemed to be weeping and wailing. He shook his head as he laughed. The city was certainly full of life. Brewers with barrels upon barrels of blood wine, medicinal wine, and so forth lined the streets. People were drinking it and at one point, he could have sworn that a mother was feeding her child with milk mixed with blood in the bottle. On another street corner a group of mates were drinking blood booze out of tankards, talking, cheering, and carrying on as though there was not a care in the world. Across the street on the opposite, a group of richly dressed men were seated around a table at a fancy tavern smoking cigarettes and sipping what he could only assume was blood wine from more elegant looking glasses. Everywhere in this city he could see the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the men and the women all drinking blood like it was water. There was one nagging question though in the back of his mind he could not shake however since he had read about blood ministration the night before. Where was all this blood coming from? His thoughts were disrupted however when he came close to a tavern called, “The Black Rose.” The wooden sign that held the name was clearly old though well maintained, and the windows were also tinted by time. His tongue felt a little dry so he decided to go in and see what was available.

When Daigo entered the tavern he could see a very diverse group of drinkers indeed. There were your yoeman workers and farmers, volunteer hunters, and official hunters of the workshop. There were even a pair of choir members on the upper balcony that was on the inside of the tavern. All in all it looked like a good place to kick up ones heels and relax. He saw the bar and walked over to it, took a seat and looked at the drinks available. There was Blood Whisky, Blood Bourbon, Blood Wine, Blood Mead, Blood Absinthe?! That last one was truly surprising, what sort of sights and sounds did one see with blood laced absinthe? The Bar Maid came up to him and winked. “So Brother, what shall it be?”

She was a very pretty woman. Buxom, long auburn hair, freckles, and mocha skin. Daigo grinned and leaned back a bit. “How about the blood wine? I’m feeling like treating myself tonight.” She nodded and left with her smile still on.

Daigo leaned back and inspected his fingernails when suddenly two people sat side by side of him. “So...you a brother of the church mm?” one of them said. Daigo looked and saw a broad shouldered man with no hair or eyebrows but a thick goat beard on his chin. He was dressed in scruffy leather and had a folding saw on his hip and a blunderbust on his back.

“Come to rub elbows with us common folk eh?” Said the other man. He was tall, pretty much wearing a poncho made of some rough tarp that covered most of his body, save for his ragged pants and mud stained shoes.

Daigo rapped his finger nails on the counter top and grinned. “Mm.....in a manner of speaking. I’m new in town.”

The goat bearded hunter chuckled, his laugh showing he was missing more than a few teeth. “Well, well, welllllll......fresh meat from the church? how exciting....”

Daigo kept up his friendly smile. “Indeed.” His right arm was hidden beneath the shoulder cape of his outfit...but he flexed it into a fist. He knew what was about to happen.

The Tall hunter shifted his arm and rested his own hand on his weapon. “Yeah...we love it when you knobs from Cathedral Ward come down here and strut around like a peacock. Gracing us with a vision of your holier than thou arses.”

Daigo saw his drink appear...the bar maid looking far more nervous than before. She quickly put space between herself and the situation that was developing. Daigo took the glass and downed it in one go....it was quite smooth and the blood gave it a surprisingly nice aftertaste. “Well if you want to see my ass, I suggest asking your sister first for permission, she might get jealous otherwise.”

The Tall hunter shrieked in anger and pulled out his weapon, a surprisingly elegant butterfly sword. He kept the blade folded in but tried to use the shaft as a blunt club. Daigo quickly leaned back and fell out of his chair as the tall hunter smacked the goat faced hunter right in the jaw, sending a few more of his teeth flying out of his mouth. Daigo fell on his back but then rolled back to get into a better stance. The other patrons got up quickly, and a circle formed around the three men as the other patrons began to cheer on the fight. The Bar Maid looking furious left to get help. The Goat faced hunter rubbed his jaw and then cracked his neck. “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE SWINGING!” he shouted.

The Tall Hunter looked at Daigo and spat. “I was swinging for the nancy here!!!” he and the goat faced hunter got off their stools and took fighting stances. Daigo simply chuckled and with his right arm he brushed back the shoulder capes and had them folded behind him. His Wooden Right arm revealed for the masses. The two hunters looked at it in shock and a small degree of fear. “The Hell is that?” the goat faced hunter asked.

Daigo cracked his knuckles. “This...was a gift from a very old friend. But as far as you two are concerned, this is the instrument of your incoming ass beating.” The two hunters looked at each other, the goat faced man drew his saw and the two rushed Daigo. He flexed the hand on his right arm and the thorns that made up his fingernails on that arm extended into claws, which he then swiped across the face of the goat faced hunter on the right. With his left hand he then grabbed the tall hunters wrist that had been swinging for his head and twisted it hard, causing the tall hunter to drop his weapon. He then let go and with expert speed did a sweeping leg kick that knocked both men on their backs. Daigo quickly grabbed the butterfuly sword and in an elegant display of form and skill whipped the blade around himself quickly before pointing the now exposed blade right into the goat faced hunters face while Daigo had drawn his pistol and pointed it at the tall hunters face. The two men held up their hands in surrender and Daigo was just about to pull the trigger when he heard a whistle being blown.

Daigo turned his head to the sudden noise and saw a team of constables in the door way. Led by a man with long blonde hair and holding a simply MASSIVE buzz saw blade on his back, and what appeared to be a mace in his hands. “Now whats all this then?!” he shouted. The Bar Maid approached his side.

“These two men harrased my customer and intended to do him harm!! ....But it seems he was able to dispatch them himself...” She said with a good bit of surprise.

Daigo nodded. “I just wanted a drink Constable. Nothing more.”

The man nodded and then looked at the crowed of people who were watching. “Right then! Now listen very closely to me...We are all hunters of the city of Yharnum. From the farmer to Vicar Laurence Himself! All of us, are in this together. Now I’ve heard repeated reports of this in the past of church brothers being accosted by ruffians in this part of the city. And I tell you now, IT WILL...NOT...DO! If I hear any more reports of drunken brawls, street muggings, or so forth, I will lock down this entire section of the city and establish STRICT rules and a curfew for the area. AM I UNDERSTOOD?” the other patrons nodded quickly. Many averting their eyes. The choir members however watched from above...with heavy invested interest in their fellow church member. The constable nodded and then looked to Daigo. “Brother, is there anyway we can make this up to you?”

Daigo looked at the constable for a moment, then down at the tall hunter. “This is a nice sword. I’m keeping it.” He then turned and walked past the constables and out into the street. He left the tavern thinking it should be a day or two before he returned. But in the meanwhile, he had a nice new weapon to add to his armory. He twirled the sword around in expert fashion as he walked down the street, but was stopped by a call from behind. “Excuse us brother, might we have a word?”

Daigo turned to see who was calling him and saw two choir members approaching him. Walking Canes in hand. He performed one final flourish and then stuck the weapon into the back of his belt. “How can I help you...fellow brothers?” he asked with a friendly smile.

The Choir Members smiled, but that was all he could see of their faces, those smiling mouths. Both looked exactly the same to each other. The one on the left spoke. “I must say it was very impressive seeing you handle those two brutes. They are hunters of no small reputation. Tell me...where did you train?”

“Oh I simply learned on my travels. There is no greater mentor than experience.” Daigo said.

“I see.” The Choir member said. “Well I say, if we had a few more brothers like you in the church we’d not need to rely on such....crude instruments.” He said with a smile.

“Well that’s the thing about crude instruments.” Daigo replied. “They’re low maintenance and don’t require constant cleaning...unlike other more...delicate tools.” He said with biting friendliness.

The choir members eyes may have been hidden, but the contempt in his voice could be heard. “Yes well.....we each have a roll to play dont we?”

The other choir member spoke up. “Forgive my friend here, he tends to be much more direct in his opinions than other choir members.”

“Well I’ll take that over pretenses any day.” Daigo said.

“Of course” the second choir member said. “Why lie when honesty is far too much fun?”

“Quite.” Daigo said.

“Well...I hope todays events have not soured your view of either the city or its citizens.” The second choir member said.

Daigo focused a bit more on the second choir member, and noticed that their lips were rose bud shaped and had a bit of gloss on them. “Well milady, it takes more than a tavern fight to spoil my view of things.”

The Lady Choir member chuckled. “well good. I would hate to see someone with so much potential leave us so suddenly.”

Daigo grinned and stroked his beard. “Well.....perhaps a guided tour of the city would help me find a new found appreciation for its ........wonders.” he said with a playful grin.

The Lady Choir member laughed softly and held out a hand. “Well..anything to aid a brother of the church.” Daigo smoothly took her arm and the two walked side by side down the street. The firm scowl of the other choir member they left behind unnoticed by the pair.

Later that night the two were having dinner in Cathedral Ward enjoying a balcony seat with a view of the whole city, the gently rising moon, and the beautiful lake that rested next to the city. They had walked the length and breadth of the city taking in the sights and sounds of all that Yharnum had to offer. And now they were ending the day with each others surprisingly delightful company. “So Tell me Sister,” Daigo said. “What are nights of the hunt like?”

She sipped some blood wine and sighed gently. “I dont know. Choir Members are not allowed to participate.”

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because choir members are researchers looking into how to elevate the mortal coil of man. A brute is easy enough to replace, there is not a lot of training involved. But a researcher who dies takes all of their knowledge and discoveries with them.” Her voice seemed to betray the bitter sweet sentiments she had about that.

“Sounds like your a bit disappointed by that.” He said.

“Well, only as much as a child might be disappointed that they cannot actually slay a dragon. My strengths are in academia not martial prowess as you or the hunters have.”

Daigo sipped some wine and thought about that. :But you know....the thing about a body of flesh is...things that are weak can be made stronger....and minds that are ignorant can be filled with knowledge.”

An amused smile kissed her lips gently now. “Are you proposing we exchange lessons?”

Daigo nodded. “Indeed....I lack knowledge of the city, and you wish to fight in the hunt do you not?”

The mask may have hid her face but he could see she was clearly thinking about it. “All right...then let us make an accord. I will instruct you and you will train me.”

Daigo smiled and nodded to that, toasting her with his wine. The two clinked glasses together. “Though we simply cannot call each other brother and sister.”

“Agreed” she said. “I am Morganna Du Loch.” She said, taking off her head piece to reveal a strikingly beautiful woman with blond hair, saphire blue eyes, and ivory skin.

“And I am Daigo Gwyn Belfir.” He said.

“Pleased to meet you Daigo.” She said.

“The Pleasure, Morganna...is mine.” He said with a grin once more.

Meanwhile in church headquarters, Laurence was pouring over his texts and manuscripts from Byergenwerth. Sketches of eyes, tentacles, and other mis matched limbs of various sorts were detailed in his books. Behind him as he researched, was a mural showing the moon, and in front of it...a tall whispy figure of bone and tentacles could be seen, descending on a field of white flowers. “There must be a way to contact him.” He said.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hey guys, just wanted to thank you so much for reading todays chapter. I just want to give a quick shout out to my friend @i-am-wyrmdrake who has been an absolute champion for me this year. Things were pretty rough at the start of 2019 but now that I’m back on my feet I just want them to know that I really appreciate all that they have done for me. Keep rocking on amigo mio!

#Bloodborne #FromSoftware #Pyromancer #Daigo Belfir #Short Story #Writing #Fan Fiction #The Healing Church #Dark Souls #Good Hunter #Dark Fantasy #fantasy #Daigo #Vampire #Cainhurst #The Choir

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biscuitreviews · 5 years

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Biscuit Reviews The Witcher III Wild Hunt (2-year Anniversary Review)

The Witcher III: Wild Hunt is perhaps my favorite game to come out of the PS4/Xbox One/Wii U-Switch console era. It’s won tons of awards and was game of the year for many people in 2015. I didn’t get into the Witcher series until Witcher II: Assassin of Kings was a free download for Xbox Live members in 2016.

After I finished Witcher II, I immediately went to Witcher III and my god, talk about an amazing sequel. It was bigger, it was better, and for being the end of Geralt’s story, it did a great job for making newcomers such as myself, not feel lost at all.

I’m going to be spoiling the game so if you haven’t played Witcher III, definitely play it before going into this review.

The story of Witcher III, revolves around Geralt of Rivia, a witcher looking for his adoptive daughter Ciri alongside his on and off again lover Yennefer of Vengerburg.

Geralt will travel through large open world zones during his quest. Velen took inspiration from the Polish and Northern German countryside, Novigrad is reminiscent of the Polish city of Gdańsk during the medieval era, and finally you have the Skellige Isles, taking inspiration from Ireland. Each of these areas are massive and beautiful to look at. It’s easy to forget that you’re in a world currently being ravaged by war or filled with monsters until you stumble across areas that give you a stark reminder that there is a war happening.

One thing that I love about the game is how it handled decisions. There’s no clear good or bad decision, everything has a shade of grey. Sure there are choices that sound better in the short term, but it could have long term ramifications that could come back to haunt Geralt. One example is Triss’s quest line in Novigrad. Sure, you’re helping mages escape the city to where they no longer have to fear for themselves, but by doing so, you give the witch hunters a new target to pursue, which are non-human races such as elves and dwarves. However, if you don’t help mages escape, than later in the story Geralt’s dwarven friend, Zoltan, can help him with a jailbreak. If you do help the mages, Zoltan won’t be able to assist Geralt due to not wanting to face the wrath of the witch hunters.

Even the types of decisions you make are fantastic as well. All of these choices are actions that Geralt himself would make and do in that situation, it’s just a matter what you believe would be the overall choice he would go with. With many choice based games, dialogue options cover many aspects of a character archetype, because normally, you are making a character and are taking that character on the journey. In this case, Geralt is a character, he has his own beliefs, likes and dislikes, and dialogue choices reflect his specific personality rather than a personality a player would create.

It’s also why some aspects in gameplay are limited such as crafting. Geralt is able to craft oils and potions on his own as long as he has the formula and the ingredients. Applying the proper oil and drinking the necessary potions are necessary for fighting monsters in this game, which I’ll discuss more about later. When it comes to making armor and swords, Geralt has to seek out a Blacksmith to make these items as Geralt himself doesn’t have the kind of skill set, therefore he has to seek out a person able to build these items.

I also love how story quests and side quests interact with one another. Main story quests could go differently if you’ve done some side quests that relate to that specific quest and vice versa. Also the fact that side quests have just as much weight as the main quests make them feel more important and worth doing for that extra bit of lore or for that impact it could have on the main story.

As well polished and built the Witcher III is, it does have some minor glitches being an open world game. Sometimes you’ll find objects just randomly floating in air. Occasionally the input to talk to NPCs won’t work and you’ll have to either step back and walk forward to have the prompt reappear or just reposition Geralt himself for the NPC to talk to you. The fact that Geralt can either die or get heavily damaged from ridiculously low heights is also highly annoying and instills a fear of any small dropping points.

Another issue I would like to point out is that it’s not exactly the most socially inclusive. A lot of the main women are highly sexualized and sometimes feel that they’re nude for the sake of it. There are moments where you can choose anti-LGBT dialogue options when you encounter those characters, which I found exteremly baffeling that it was an option considering Ciri is bi and Geralt seems supportive in the dialogue they exchange. I get it, it’s a choice, you don’t have select those options, but the fact that they’re there to begin with just leaves a bit of a bad taste. Let’s not forget the entire ocean of white people in this game. I’m sorry, but including two people of color in a DLC just doesn’t cut it. Does it break the game for me? No, but I think not acknowledging that this exists within the game is even worse.

As mentioned previously, monsters have certain weakness and you are expected to exploit those weakness when fighting monsters. Using the proper tools to easily take down a monster feels great and makes you feel more invested in the world as you have to research these creatures in your bestiary to know their weaknesses.

Going above and beyond to take on an extra tough enemy or a monster clearly above your level although feels great at first, it’s quickly brought down when the experience gained is very little and the loot isn’t something that equates the struggle you went through. It’s just a bit disappointing that you’re encouraged to research monsters and exploit weaknesses and when you do just that, the rewards just don’t reflect that.

There’s also one quirk with dialogue as well that’s honestly more funny than terrible, but the way it happened just made it more memorable to me.

This instance is going to a wake party with Yennefer in Skellige. She’ll comment on how she likes that Geralt is growing out a beard. Now if Geralt does have a beard in this instance, it makes sense, however if Geralt is clean shaven, Yennefer will still make the comment which I always found that to be a funny little programming quirk. It’s obvious that this response was to happen when Geralt has a beard and the programming within the game was supposed to read that. There are a couple of instances that NPCs will react to Geralt’s appearance and the reaction is appropriate in those moments. But the beard moment, always brings out a chuckle.

Granted for a game as massive as Witcher III to only have a few minor issues, it’s actually rather impressive. However, I will admit that it has been four years since it’s initial release and there might have been more bugs then, but now it’s a mostly smooth experience.

As mentioned in a previous post, I do refer back to this game a lot for professional research as well. CD Projekt Red used a branching writing program known as Articy Draft, a program I use in my day job. I’ll do different decisions, I’ll change the order of when I do quests and just imagine how the branching dialogue looked within Articy and the type of variables used to determine how certain events play out.

One also can’t talk about Witcher III without mentioning Gwent, what is perhaps one of the best mini-games within a game since Final Fantasy VIII’s Triple Triad. Gwent is an easy to learn, but tough to master card game at the start. It’s tough at first as Geralt doesn’t have many cards at his disposal, but once you finally get a win, the dam starts to break little by little. Geralt will begin winning more powerful cards that can be added to his deck. Eventually it does get to a point where everyone becomes a bit easy to defeat as you gain more powerful cards and build your deck for effective strategies. Regardless it’s a game within a game that you can easily get lost in.

Witcher III also set what many gamers regard as the “Golden Standard” for how DLC should be treated. Witcher III includes 16 free DLC additions ranging from additional quests, items, additional costumes, and Gwent cards. Then there’s the two paid DLC expansions, Heart of Stone and Blood and Wine, which involves two new stories.

Both of these expansions also add additional gameplay mechanics to make Geralt stronger, which you will need to take advantage of for Blood and Wine as monsters and enemies in that particular expansion are a bit tougher than in the main game and Heart of Stone.

Blood and Wine also contains my favorite quest in the entire game. The quest is called “Paperchase” and it’s hilarious. Something about a legendary monster slayer still having to adhere to the bureaucracy of a bank to get a reward for saving a guy years ago is just amazing. It shows that not all great quests have to involve you having an encounter that puts you on the edge of your seat.

The Witcher III is a game that deserves the praise and reception it has received. It has made a mark on the RPG genre that many developers are taking note and implementing in their games. The most famous case being Ubisoft with the Assassin’s Creed series by following a similar dialogue decision based structure and having side quests impact the main story and vice versa. This is a game that has earned its status as a modern classic, which I’m sure will keep that status for a very long time.

As I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone on Tumblr or any denizen of the internet, The Witcher III: Wild Hunt receives a 5 out 5

So far it’s been quite an interesting two years on this site. Frankly, I expected to just be a reviewer that would continuously scream into the void. To my surprise, I’ve had quite a few of you that like and share my posts adding more to the conversation whether you agree or disagree. I’ve also recently passed the 50 reviews milestone as well so the 50 and the two year mark happened rather quickly!

Here’s to the march on getting to 100 reviews...at some point!

#Witcher III #Witcher #Witcher III: Wild Hunt #geralt of rivia #video games #gaming #video game review #game review #gaming review #review #biscuit reviews

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not-close-to-straight · 6 years

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Black Panther Review!

SO For the first time since my surgery I put my contacts in and did my hair and my makeup and wore Real Clothes instead of yoga pants to get out and FINALLY see Black Panther and it was totally worth how many times I had to re do my eyeliner (four, because I suck at make up and have worn it a grand total of ten times in my life) AND it was totally worth the freezing cold theater and even though I had a massive migraine, I refused to let it bug me.

So here we go. A list of everything I loved about the characters, favorite lines, maybe a little of my thoughts on the scenes.

Heads up for spoilers below the cut!

First of all, just a heads up, every person in the movie was beautiful. Every single one of them. My poor worthless pansexual heart was DYING over it all.

(Oh also, very quickly-- there was a new Coke ad before the movie where they very clearly mentioned Non Binary people (them) and LGBT (lesbians) in their montage of people who Coke was for and it was honestly lovely.)

The movie takes place a WEEK after T’Chaka dies in Vienne in CACW, so literally just a day or two after Tony is left in Siberia to die and it just brought up all these Post-CACW feels for me and also like... Tchalla you poor thing, this has been a hell of a week for you, omg.

Chadwick Boseman/T Challa opened his mouth to speak and I almost melted through the floor. His accent is gorgeous and the words are so smooth its almost a little difficult to understand but so so beautiful.

The way T’Challa looks at Nakia with these amazing puppy dog eyes. He loves her so much, looks at her as if she is his whole world and even though he asks her to stay with him, he respects her enough to not push the issue when she says there is other things she needs/wants to do.

The Queen Mother! Angela Basset in all her glory! I love her and her endless beauty, may she reign forever.

SHURI! You guys SHURI was the cutest fucking thing Ive ever seen in my life! Everything about her was equal parts bratty little sister making sure her newly crowned brother doesnt get cocky, and loyal Wakandan determined to use every bit of her genius to save her country and I love her?!

Also MORE GROSS to you guys who want to ship her with anyone. She is just so obviously a child in this. Yes, a teenager, but still a child, right down to the pranks she pulls and the way she dresses (minus her ceremonial clothing which was pretty enough to make me need some of my own) she is just a baby, stop trying to over sexualize her and ship her with older men. (or anyone for that matter. Let her be sixteen and giggly and adorable for as long as she can be).

OKOYE. Where do I even start with this woman? First of all, she was bald (as were the rest of the dora milaje) and this is sort of a big thing for black women. Because there is a whole toxic idea of black women not being able to grow hair, or being bald as if its a bad thing, and I LOVE so much the scene in Korea where they are in disguise and she has to wear a wig and says “This is a DISGRACE” because for her to have to cover her head, her tattoos that show her culture and her status is an insult to her very person, and I love that she is angry about it. That to fit in to a white mans world, to be acceptable, she must change/cover up something fundamental to her identity, and she is ANGRY about it and I love it.

I also love that she was allowed to be angry. Black people in general are already seen as “angry”, as the aggressors, and women are taught to hide it away as if its shameful to feel anything in the extreme, but ESPECIALLY anger because then we are just “another bitter black woman” and it is so important that she and the others are allowed to be ANGRY, visibly and audibly angry at what happens (for example, when one of their own dies.). Its raw and honest, and in its honesty, it is beautiful.

I need me a red dress like hers just so I can feel like 1/10th of a BAMF as she is.

“If he touches you again, i will impale him on that table”

“Does she speak English”

“When she wants to”

I loved everything about that interaction between Okoye and Ross. Very reminiscent of the moment between Okoya and Natasha “Move, or I will move you” and in both scene T Challa is sort of laughing over it because he knows Okoye is about two seconds from fucking someone up. Hilarious.

Klaw! What an odd Villain, because I felt like he wasnt really a villain. He was just sort of... the guy that was always around the bad guys, and then ultimately nothing more than a tool to be used for Killmongers vengeance. His sonic hand was a nice nod to the comic character who is just solid sound and emits it through his hand. And he was just amazingly obnoxiously AMERICAN and I both loved and hated him for that.

Nakia. How I love her. Not only is she entirely her own person, doing what she feels is right, but she is fucking FIERCE and gorgeous and smart and is not about to give up what she wants/needs because T Challa is in love with her. In fact, I love very much that the T Challa/Nakia love story wasnt even... a story. It wasnt even a driving force of the movie. She didnt have to get hurt to inspire him to greatness. She didnt have to break his heart to give him something to fix, really she didnt even go searching for a way to save him when he went over the falls, she went looking for the person that could save their country. Their love story was something quiet, something in the background, because a love story is NOT necessary to keep a movie going (do you hear that, oh pushers of the awkward heterosexual relationship to fill the down moments? not necessary).

HOWEVER, she absolutely was his rock, who he turned to in his moments of need. He crossed country borders and potentially could have ruined her mission (which was reckless and fairly selfish) because he needed her there when he was crowned King, and she wanted to be there for him. She was the only person he told about his uncle’s death and the truth about Erik, and she was the one to help his mother and sister escape because they are just as much her family as his.

But back to Nakia-- I think one of my favorite scenes is when they go to Korea and she speaks the language so well, laughs over the trouble she gets into, and very much makes it clear to T Challa AGAIN that she has her own life that has nothing to do with him. Holla for Strong Females.

How much did I love the Queen Mothers hair being blonde/white underneath her beautiful head-dress. Lovely lovely lovely.

M’Baku. I have mixed feelings about his character. I very much appreciated Marvel NOT using his “man-ape” persona from the comics because hello, that is Racist As Fuck. Instead they made him lord over a people who used the gorilla as a symbol just as other tribes used the rhino/the panther etc. He was all sorts of big and beautiful and the challenge scene at the waterfall was just, brutal and incredible and PRIMAL and honestly there isnt much better than seeing two men (or women) really battle it out with just their strength. Of course the landscape and backdrop was incredible, but the fight scene was just INCREDIBLE. The way MBaku waited until the last minute to yield, the way T Challa BEGGED him to yield. I love it all.

I thought it was very interesting when Nakia came to him with the heart shaped herb, he didnt accept it. As someone who had challenged T Challa for the throne, I expected him to at least consider it, but it was obvious in his face that he was both honored, and then humbled, and yet still turned it down because he knows T Challa needed it more.

And yet when T Challa asked him for an army, for help, MBaku turned him down, said that this was the first king in CENTURIES to visit him. CENTURIES. These people had been living in the mountains, cut off from the rest of Wakanda and the other kings hadnt even visited them. No wonder the man is bitter. BUT NOT BITTER ENOUGH TO TURN THE QUEEN MOTHER AWAY. He still promised that she would be safe, no ham would come to her. I love that so much.

He did not just forgive centuries of being ignored because they need help, but he wasnt willing to completely turn his back either. I thought it was a realistic depiction that kept him very human, versus the usual “no i wont help at all because our ancestors battled” or even the “i have had a sudden change of heart and now will completely help you even if it means giving up my life for you, who I suddenly support.”

Also, the way he snorted and giggled over his vegetarian joke??? HE SNORTED AND GIGGLED and no one else laughed. Just his big ass on his throne cracking up and everyone else was like uhhhh....

Martin Freeman as Everett Ross. I love that they let his character be a smaller than average, soft spoken, older white man. No one overly intimidating, no one that seems to inspire fear and yet, when they are attacked by Killmonger when he rescues Klaw, Ross THROWS himself on Nakia (who could probably protect herself) and takes a bullet in the spine for her. That bravery, that instinctual “cover the women and children” and how quickly he reacts speaks to more of his character than anything else.

Also, the end where he “flies” the ship to stop the weapons from being shipped out and Shuri tells him “you are a great pilot AND HE IS A FUCKING GREAT PILOT he wants so badly to save them, and I love that he just doesnt give up. Like, he realizes that how they healed him was damn near impossible, so he will do the impossible to stop the worst from happening. I love it. (Also I just love Martin Freeman)

“Dont scare me like that, colonizer.”

“My Names Ross.”

“I know.”

^^^^I laughed so hard my friend frowned at me and I shoved her and said, “quit scowling colonizer” and then laughed harder. She did not think it was funny.

ERIK KILLMONGER. First of all, the scene where we meet him. Come on. He looks like such a goddamn fuck boy I almost wanted to smack him. Or maybe fuck him. I cant decide lol. I am in love with him though.

Growing up where I did, I saw so much anger in the black youth, especially the young men, and for that reason it was so hard to see him as a villain. He is just another abandoned black boy in a forgotten neighborhood, who is angry at the system. And yet he is also brilliant and talented and DRIVEN and he pulled himself up out of the situation he was thrown in and now is determined to change everyone elses situation. He talks of how where he is from, the black people who start the revolutions dont have the weapons they need to protect themselves/to ready themselves and its just... its so true in this very painful way, especially now, recently, and I just hurt for him.

The way he scarred himself, one for every kill so he could work his way up to challenging for the throne. It is horrifying to think of him marking himself after every kill, all around the world because every body was a step closer to his goal.

I could talk forever about his character, because I think it was a very accurate, interesting look into the truth underneath the “angry black man” that society paints these young men as.

I wont talk forever though, because holy shit Im actually talking forever lol, but I WILL say, that the differences between Erik and T Challa, from the speech patterns to the way they walked (cocky versus confident) to the way they dressed and talked/treated the women (I would throw a pan at Killmonger if he talked to me like he talked to them lol). it was just an incredible contrast between one who was given EVERYTHING and someone who had to take everything they wanted just to have a SHOT at anything in the world. The difference between rich and poor and the lines that it draws and the different worlds it creates whether we realize it or not.

The only person I dont want to spend alot of time on is W’Kabi. I have mixed feelings to his joining with Killmonger, but I realize he was driven by vengeance and that can be a poisonous thing.

HOWEVER, I thought he had one of the most beautiful scenes in the move. Him and Okoye are in love, and yet when it comes to them ready to fight each other, he asks her, “would you fight me, my love” and she says,. “for wakanda i would” (paraphrasing) and HE is the one to put his weapon down. He is the one to sacrifice his vengeance for love. Not the woman. She did not change. She stood strong in what she believed to be right, and he loved her enough to give up what he wanted.

I love so much that this movie allowed her and other women to be the strong ones, driving the men to make the right choice.

I will stop rambling now lol

End Thoughts--- This movie is so important right now, such a wonderful thing for our young people to see-- Strong black characters, who go that way without a history of drugs or jail or anything like that. Strong black women who are beautiful (stunningly so) even without wigs/straightened hair/lighter skin, and Strong black men who are not any less strong for loving the women in their lives and being humbled enough by past mistakes to try and change.

My favorite line is easily the very last one, where the young black boy asks T Challa-- who are you?

Every white child has had the chance to ask their hero-- batman, superman, spiderman, wonder woman etc etc etc-- who they are. Who is this hero that has saved my life and given me hope and is going to change this seemingly hopeless situation?

But seeing a little black boy asking the same question-- maybe I read too much into it, but it really struck a cord with me.

OH and the last scene.

I will be the first to admit, I was like... foaming at the mouth to see Bucky in Infinity War, with his new arm and a new gun and like YASSSSSS BABY FUCK THEM BOYS UP LET ME SEE YOU KILL SOMEONE.

But like?? Stepping from a hut looking like Jesus?? Long hair?? Like god Marvel, please just let my baby stay by the lake and meditate with his half pony tail and man bun. PLEASE just let him play with the children who call him White Wolf. PLEASE just let him light scented candles and have the women braid his hair and when Steve comes looking for him, just let him say no I have found inner peace here in my little hut by the water???

I JUST WANT HIM TO BE PEACEFUL?!

Alright, thats it. Sorry for the long ass ramble, this literally isnt half of what I wanted to say. Feel free to hit up my ask box about anything black panther related lol

#black panther #wakanda forever #t'challa #erik killmonger #fan girl fainting

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red-applesith · 6 years

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I love your meta works! I have a question regarding the interrogation scene in TFA. Why do you think Rey was so calm? Her first question is 'where am I?' and she sounds relatively collected given the circumstances. I imagened myself in her position. Strapped down to a chair, facing a massive guy in a mask. I would expect to be raped and be in utter panic. She only tears up much later. Do you think she's just not as easily scared, or is Ben not as intimidating to her as a 'monster' should be?

Thank you for your kind words!

Daaamn, that’s a REALLY good question! I think there’s much to say about that.

Context

First of all, when watching the movie (or any movie for that matter), it’s essential to make the distinction between what the character knows and what the audience knows.

It’s especially crucial with Star Wars because the audience knows or expects a great deal more than the characters themselves about the world they inhabit.

And that’s why fans tend to make connections between characters or events that are not connected in-universe.

Recent example: Rey’s parentage.

Rey must be Luke’s daughter!

Jyn Erso is Rey’s mum.

Qi'ra is Han’s love interest, and Rey’s mum, meaning Rey and Kylo are half-siblings!

It doesn’t matter if the timelines don’t align. Fans WANT to find connections and connect the dots.

In movies, especially in The Force Awakens, some things are meant to only make sense to the character at this point of the story (every single line spoken by Kylo Ren for instance) which leave us, the fans, speculating to no end.

However, to speculate, we need specific tools, which brings me to my second point.

What are the tools in our possession as an audience to understand Star Wars?

1. Star Wars legacy and tie-in materialOn top of their knowledge of the Star Wars stories that came before, Star Wars fans have access to supplemental content such as books, games, TV series and an extensive database to feed their theories about a character’s motivations or background. Doesn’t matter if some of that is not canon anymore. Some basic concepts exist.

That’s why Reylo fans correctly predicted the Force bond. We labeled Rey and Kylo the new Bastilla and Revan because the parallels existed and from there, the Force bond made perfect sense.

2. Codes and conventionsIn every form of art, ‘there’s a way to do things,’ codes and conventions that give us some clues about a character’s true feelings or where a story is heading. That’s why some movies are predictable while others have a shocking, unexpected ending. That’s also why ‘genres’ (romantic comedies, horror movies, thrillers, etc…) exist.

In movies, codes are what brings meaning to what’s going on on-screen, while conventions are more about how things are done.

And the truth is, there are many codes and conventions the audience understand instinctively, even if they never studied Media Studies 101.

Why is that? Because those codes emerged over the years, and as the audience saw them on-screen over and over again, they became part of our culture. For instance, imagine a character in a bathroom opening a medicine cabinet. How many of us expect to see the reflection of a menacing figure in the mirror as soon as the character closes the cabinet? (answer: a lot)

Another good illustration of that phenomenon is that meme:

But I’ll go back to that later; first I want to discuss one last point before getting into the breakdown of the interrogation scene.

3. The viewer’s experience/baggage

There’s one last tool we use as an audience: Our personal experience/feelings/bias.

That one is the most contentious because for obvious reasons, no two human beings have the same life experience, ambitions, or fears, and art is one of the most subjective human concepts. We all react differently to images and situations (Wonder what fuels nerd wars or ship wars? Look no further.)

Dynamic of the interrogation scene

Okay, let’s get into this for real.

Do I think Rey is afraid of being raped?No

Why?Because I don’t think that rape is a concept she’s ‘aware’ or afraid of.

Okay, some might think this is a bold statement, but let me explain my reasoning.

First of all, in Force Awakens, Rey’s Survival Guide and Before the awakening, we see a glimpse of Rey’s life on Jakku, and we know she’s been pretty much alone all of her life. Despite that, she’s not afraid; Not afraid to rescue BB-8 from Teedo, not afraid to refuse to sell BB-8 to Plutt, not afraid to fight Plutt’s thugs.

>> Rey isn’t afraid to say no to male figures.

If Jakku were a place where women are sexually exploited or mistreated, Rey would react very differently to these situations, wouldn’t she? She would hide and keep her head down at all time. That’s clearly not the case here.

Now, picture Jakku and Niima Outpost, especially in the movie. It’s hot and dusty, like Tatooine. Plutt is an asshole, like Watto. But do we see slaves in skimpy outfits or any sleazy bar? The answer is no.

World building 101: Jakku and Rey’s early life is sexless.

It doesn’t mean Rey is ignorant about sex; it just says she has no reason to associate danger or punishment to sexual violence, she just has no frame of reference for that.

And I believe that’s a very deliberate choice from the writers. In both TFA and TLJ, Rey and women, in general, are not sexualized. Even Bazine, who is the ‘femme fatale spy’ of The Force Awakens is clothed from tip to toe. And when we see boobs in TLJ, we see the Thala sirens and the weird lady in the casino with the floating dog.

(Btw, it’s super interesting because TFA and TLJ draw a lot of parallels with the previous movies obviously, but the exciting thing to study is what is missing.

For instance, even if we don’t know who Maz is, it takes no more than a scene in TFA to understand what she’s not: Maz’s castle is not Jabba’s palace. There are no cruel games, no slave dancing for the male gaze, etc…)

Is the audience afraid on behalf of Rey?Yes

Why?We didn’t grow up on Jakku. For us, sexual violence is real and female suffering and sexual exploitation a staple of our entertainment and culture.

Narrative codes taught us that female characters restrained to metal chairs do not belong to romantic comedies; they belong to horror movies and stories about serial killers. Our brain is conditioned to recognize such patterns, and it’s entirely reasonable to be afraid for Rey at that moment.

Is Kylo talking about sex?I don’t think so. But I think Lawrence Kasdan and J.J. Abrams knew that the audience was going to understand it that way.

Code and conventions:

‘That this is not the face of a villain threatening sexually our hero:’

Let’s compare with Javier Bardem’s character, Raul Silva, in Casino Royale

Code and conventions:

‘Yeah…That’s more like it.’

Codes and conventions are amazing, I love them

Why?In Force Awakens especially, Kylo is the writers’ puppet. His lines are the most meta of them all: What Kylo says and what he means are two very different things.

Is Ben intimidating to Rey?To an extent, yes, but not as much as Kylo/Ben is intimidating to us, the audience, and maybe not for the reasons we think of. Also probably not as much as he’d like to be, to be honest.

Seeing how Rey reacts when she’s with Ben/Kylo is essential to understand her character AND the nature of their relationship.

Now, to analyze her reactions, we need to separate what we know of Kylo Ren at that point and what Rey knows.

We witnessed him killing Lor San Tekka and giving the order to kill the members of the Church of the Force, but Rey didn’t; she doesn’t know who he is, except that he followed her in the Forest and he uses the Force.

Last thing she remembers:

Code and conventions:

That’s not how you carry a prisoner Kylo. What school of villainy did you go to?

Also, as established earlier, Rey isn’t easily frightened.

When Rey wakes up, Kylo is squatting a few meters away, watching her. As far as she’s concerned, she’s not in immediate danger. (Let’s be honest; if she’d opened her eyes and found him sniffing her hair or trying to cop a feel, her reaction might have been different tbh.)

Code and conventions:

Kylo, Y U not doing what you did with Poe??

Next, she initiates the conversation, asking with defiance where she is.

How she speaks to Kylo isn’t that different to how she speaks to Teedo and Plutt. Perhaps she’s assessing the situation at that moment. How is he going to react?

Kylo’s response and reaction gives her two clues:

He calls her a guest, not a prisoner.

He answers her question (He doesn’t shout, doesn’t stay silent, doesn’t ask her to shut up).

From the get-go, Rey is already -relatively- in control.

Code and conventions:

Usually the kidnapper is in control. You’re really bad at your job, Kylo.

Rey, you’re doing great, continue like that.

Next, she mentions the mask. What does Kylo do? He removes it.

Code and conventions:

Okay… What’s going on there?

Once again, even if she’s retrained, Rey is the one in control.

Once the mask is off, you can sense a shift in her body language. She’s not scared; she’s embarrassed and confused.

Code and conventions:

That is not how you react when you’re scared.

Then, Kylo tries to get into her head and things get tough. That’s when she starts crying.

Suddenly she’s lost the control. The things she’s never talked to anyone? Kylo is finding out and she’s embarrassed about it. Embarrassed because she’s a very private person, embarrassed because she has secrets, embarrassed because her defiance is a mask, and probably embarrassed because Kylo is cute and she doesn’t know how to process what’s going on.

Some people want to argue that the whole scene is a metaphor for rape, but it’s actually closer to someone finding a teenager’s diary and reading it out loud.

Rey is very private and obviously having her inner thoughts exposed brings back lots of bad memories.

Arguably, that’s when Kylo discovers her parents:

But as I said earlier, Rey isn’t easily frightened and she fights back.

Code and conventions:

Rey is no damsel in distress or victim! She will have none of your bullshit.

Rey orders Kylo to get out of her head and what happens? He immediately moves away from her.

That’s where they start fighting mentally and she gets into his head instead

And she wins!

^ That’s the face she sees before Kylo goes running to Snoke.

Code and conventions:

That guy isn’t a threat.

>> During the whole scene, Rey might be restrained, but she’s the one in control.

So overall, Rey knows that she has nothing to be afraid of when Ben is around because she’s had the upper hand since the beginning. Now that she’s been into his head, she also knows that he’s more afraid than she is.

Also, she still has no idea what he did before they met, nor does she know what he’s about to do.

Sure, it’s open to personal interpretation but let’s look at Finn and Rey when Han and Ben are talking.

Finn is scared because he knows Kylo Ren. Rey is curious because she doesn’t think Ben has the guts to kill Han.

TL;DR: Rey isn’t scared because Kylo isn’t scary to her.

#reylo #reylo meta #kylo ren x rey #rey x kylo ren #kylo x rey #rey x kylo #MyMetasAndTheories

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rhysand-vs-fenrys · 7 years

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Unpopular Opinion About Tamlin: Maybe We’ve Been too Harsh?

I enjoy the “Tamlin the Tool” tag as much as the next person, but ever since I wrote my ficlette “What Rises from the Ashes” (in which I use the fact headcanon that Amarantha was Tamlin’s mate to explain his behavior) I have been thinking more and more about Tamlin.

The Preface:: I think Tamlin is emotionally and physically abusive (based on how he treats Lucien before UtM and his tantrums destroying rooms). Now, he’s not the kind who would beat someone for not having dinner ready on time, but I do think he’s abusive (I’m not getting into defining that, this post has other purposes). I do not subscribe to the headcanon that Tamlin is bipolar. Just putting that out there. He also seems to have some inherited misogyny and racism as far as his views to women & faeries proper places.

After Under the Mountain, I think Tamlin suffers from severe PTSD, and that finds a poisonous mix with his other character flaws that basically turns him Amarantha-adjacent.

Now, About Tamlin...

If you look at the series from Tamlin’s point of view- is it really so difficult to understand why he did what he did and where he was coming from?

I think Rhysand and Feyre started vocalizing this bit by bit in ACOWAR as they thought more about it, but if you look at the story from Tamlin’s point of view, here’s how things played out (remember, TAMLIN’S point of view only)--

After UtM Tamlin obviously suffers from PTSD. Feyre repeatedly begs him to let her go out, but he forces her into the role of his wife. He might need things to have a sense of normalcy, he might think he is protecting her, and he might think it’s what she needs- probably a mix of all 3.

Feyre looks utterly terrified on their wedding day, and then Rhysand appears. It was obvious she was about to reject Tamlin, but at the time- if his mental state was anything like Feyre’s- he probably linked those two separate events to Rhysand causing Feyre’s fear, like she could sense him coming through the bond or maybe he spoke into her mind directly.

No one seems to know that Rhysand was Amarantha’s sex-slave. Even the High Lords are surprised and suspicious when he reveals it in ACOWAR.

When Feyre returns, she passes on that Rhysand showed interest in the possibility she has this potentially devastating array of powers.

More and more, Rhysand comes for Feyre and repeatedly reminds Tamlin he is powerless to stop it.

Tamlin tries locking Feyre in the house, and one of the most powerful figures in the Night Court strolls right into his manor and takes her away.

Eventually, Feyre sends a mega-short letter dumping him. If this conversation had happened face-to-face, the rest of the series probably would have been VERY different.

The Night Court- and a High Lord Tamlin betrayed to the death of his mother and sister- now has Feyre and might be interested in some more retribution (I know they were friends once but that ship is long since sunk).

In ACOTAR and early ACOMAF, Rhys’ court is repeatedly said to be what Amarantha was inspired to re-create. Basically, Amarantha(’s willing little lover) now has Feyre.

The next bit is based on what Tamlin himself says in ACOWAR and what others imply (not dealing with the execution of the sentries because that was wholly knee-jerk).

Tamlin, at some point over those months, begins to realize he was choking the life out of Feyre and that she suffered from as many nightmares as he did if not more (again, we have no knowledge of what happened to Tamlin UtM when he wasn’t in front of the crowd. Did Amarantha do to him what she did to Rhys?).

At one point in ACOTAR, Lucien hints at inter-court spying and it sounds as though there are eyes in the Court of Nightmares that report directly or indirectly to him.

If that spy does exist: All Lucien and Tamlin hear after desperately searching for Feyre is that male-Amarantha suddenly shows up with Feyre one day out of nowhere and very nearly fingers her in front of everyone. When she is not with him (before he enters and when he has her step away), she is immediately surrounded by and remains slavishly close to his inner circle- his spymaster, warlord, and that very same woman who dragged Feyre out of the house. To an outside, biased observer they might appear to be her handlers.

When Lucien tries to rescue Feyre, she suddenly sprouts wings like her “master”.

At some point, Tamlin goes to Hybern to make a deal to get Feyre back.

I want to focus on that deal Tamlin made. He was called a traitor to his entire continent for that decision. But from his perspective- wasn’t he just doing what Feyre did for him?

He made a bargain with a demon in order to try and free the female he loved, who he honestly believed loved him and was under the control of a massively dangerous male who (again, only as far as he knew) had willingly been Amarantha’s lover.

Feyre sold herself to Amarantha for a chance to save him. After failing her so wholly and completely, he probably thought he was being gallant and returning the gesture. Amarantha controlled him so that even when Feyre was tortured in front of him he never dared blink an eye or behave in a way Amarantha did not allow, what if Feyre was doing the same? What if Rhys was controlling her through his powers, taking advantage of her already shattered mind, or if he’d tortured her into submission like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome (or whatever the Fae call it)?

Moving on a little bit---

When Feyre is freed she explicitly incriminates Rhysand, saying he held her mind. Rhys confirms this.

Over the next few weeks, Feyre does not outright say Rhysand repeatedly raped her, but she makes leading statements and to Tamlin that’s the same thing. She never contradicts him or Lucien when they dare talk about it and they immediately back down to spare her the memory.

Tamlin seems to have learned his lesson- he lets Feyre leave whenever she wants to, even when he doesn’t like it. When he really doesn’t approve, he just comes along. He never locks her in again (threatens to but she reminds him how well that went last time and he backs down).

I mean, if you look at the story from Tamlin’s perspective, he thinks he’s this great and mighty hero come to save the woman he loves- only to have it all thrown back in his face like a mountain of shit (why I ended the list where I did and didn’t go through the High Lords meeting). He’s pissed for being played the fool, embarrassed, and utterly enraged every time he’s called a traitor for trying to be a hero.

Again, I love “Tamlin the Tool” and think he’s abusive with that temper of his, but just from his point of view- are his actions really so hard to understand? Now, add Feyre and Rhysand’s perspectives back in the mix and it’s a whole different beast, but Tamlin didn’t have that benefit when he made his decisions. He didn’t know the whole picture.

So... when he said he thought he was doing the right thing, can you really fault him in the same vein as Hybern?

#tamlin #tamlin the tool #unpopular opinion #feyre #rhysand #mine #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acowar spoilers

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thealfanator · 7 years

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Dandelion’s Tales ~ Chapter 1

So I sat there like a fool, staring into the slight bursts and fizzles at the bottom of my mug. Tiny explosions spat back at me like a wild cat. For what seemed like sheer boredom, I shook the drizzle contents around and around, watching and listening more to the liquid whistling to me. Sighing, I slowly put down the cup and looked around the tavern; gazing at the dancing women and playing bands. I tried to hide my dorky, stupid smile at the same time as my slapped my eyes away from the various pairs of tits. I cleared my throat.

“Dandelion!” she called me from the end of the table. She startled me like I’d startle myself from the middle of a silent night – in a cold sweat from too many nightmares. Nightmares such as: “what’ll happen when I run out of ideas for my stories” or “what if I run out of women” or maybe even “what if mead and ale go extinct”. I chuckled at my stupidity before I realised she was still standing there with her hand out and prodding me for a refill.

“Yes.” I began. Even I noticed the slur in my voice, however it was subtle. “Mead. Again.” I handed over my tankard; for a moment I thought I threw it at her, but I heard no clash on the floor and, frankly, I couldn’t care less. My dreary, tired eyes and continuous slur of a drunk man carried me on through the night like an irresponsible father.

So there I was, alone and fiddling with my crimson tuft of clothing, wondering what I’m doing with my pointless, insignificant life. Once again my reactions were skewed and before I knew it, three commoners were sitting opposite me with wide eyes like they were huddling round a campfire. “What do you want?” I said in an accidently rude way. I immediately apologised and greeted them with a smile as if I’d just splashed cold water on my face.

“Are you… Master Dandelion? The one who made the Chameleon?” the woman stuttered in an anxious tone. I permitted her fits of laughter with a nod and smiled again. The other two men stared excitedly too and I slapped them a nod with my hat. “Can you tell us one of your stories?” She asked. Suddenly and almost without my consent, my back stood straight – proud and ready for storytelling. The slur in my voice vanished and my eyes became brighter.

“Well! As you asked, of course! Gladly! I’ll tell you the story about this time when I met a loyal friend…”

I was wandering on horseback through a fairly green place. Plants everywhere, overgrown foliage. There were canvases of embedded greenery which felt almost carefully or strategically placed for view. The whole area seemed like a painting – and it was pleasant! Splodges of trickling streams echoed around corners and atop rocks. Trees stood so high you couldn’t even see the Sun! Fungus and moss hung down and complemented the ivy curtains of the forest. I actually developed a habit for stopping and sucking in the peaceful, fruity air into my nostrils whilst also trying not to choke on the annoying little fly things I came across (to which I waved them away with my hat). I’m sure that you’re not surprised that I also had a bunch of papers and journals stuffed under my armpit. Chasms of knowledge cramped in my safe haven! Anyway, I’m getting off task. I trotted along with my horse until I came to an equally overgrown, tiny and abandoned village. I didn’t mean to go there; I simply needed to pass through there to get to another place (to deliver those papers I talked about). But, as you obviously thought, Curiosity got the better of me. I dismounted and took tiny steps through the silence whilst clutching my papers. I suppose they were my defence because I was certainly no swordsman! I came to a door which was half ajar and, since I thought it was empty, I pushed it slightly to conjure various screams from the hinges. Before I entered, I subconsciously threw a few, short nervous breaths into the building like entering letters through a small slit of a door.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Master Dandelion is nervous and cowardly.” I am not a nervous person! In fact, I’m probably the bravest person you know; I was just taking precautions because I’m a sensible human being! Next thing I knew however, my caution was chucked down the drain as I sensed a random force at the back of my head as darkness greeted me to the floor.

Ow. That was the first thing I said when I awoke. My first thoughts consisted of multiple “Where the fuck am I?”s. The next thoughts were that I realised my ankles were bound to the ceiling and other bloody sacks full of body parts were also on the ceiling with me. It didn’t take long before blood was throbbing through my head and I immediately started feeling queasy. I looked around. Blood painted the walls followed by flies jumping around in enjoyment at the stench. As I’ve said, the blood-bursting sacks reeked. I tried to plaster my nose with the palms of my bound hands to cover the awful smell but my urge to gag did not deflate. I struggled, making grunting noises as I flailed to uncuff myself from the tiny, wooden shack in the middle of nowhere.

Then I realised it wasn’t me that was grunting. I heard something through the slit of the ajar door on the other side of the room. I figured out by now that that must’ve lead to the outside. Anywhere was better than this fucking place. Ceasing my efforts, I listened hard. I heard exactly what I thought I heard: grunts of a large, inhuman beast coming from outside this room. It sounded gigantic as every time the noises stopped, the earth would vibrate like it was taking a large, gulping step. Outbursts of fiery anticipations made by this fascinating unknown sent shivers up my spine! I almost wished I had my journals to write about this…

“Hello?” I wailed nervously, “Is anyone there?” I knew it was wrong – calling for help at something which was obviously a threat – but I’m the stupid bard Dandelion who knew nothing better than the calligraphy at the beginning of words. As you know now (and unfortunately for me), the snorts of curiosity pulled me into this thing even though I knew it was dangerous.

“Shut it!” came an anonymous whisper from behind me.

“Hello?” I called, surprised. “Please, help me! My crimson suit will get horribly ruined…”

“Shut the fuck up.” I heard footsteps crawl around the outside of the building on the patchy, wet mud that I presumed was there. Suddenly, the creature I had been familiar with once before made groans of agony after clashes of sword smacked rocky substance. I tried wiggling out of my prison again, but the ropes denied me once more. I heard wailing, like a stray animal, but I couldn’t tell which one it was; the human or the beast. Moments of silence pass.

Suddenly the door smashed open, flooding light and making me sneeze uncontrollably.

“Sorry. I have terrible allergies to sudden changes in atmosphere!” I apologised. The whispering “shut it” man didn’t reply but did rip off my ties that bound me upside down – to which I thanked him profusely. I tried to shake his hands but he barged past me, sheathing his sword heading outside.

“Get on the horse.” He said in a gravelly voice. We both travelled on the same, brown horse into the green forest once again. I’m just happy I got out of that blood-painted cell!

On the way to my unknown destination, I took a deeper look at my saviour. Muscly. He was muscly, and very strong. He wore no shirt, so his bulky arms and large chest blazed in the Sun. I traced my eyes down his back (as I rode behind him), and followed his scars like a trail. He only had one sword; evidently not a Witcher, unfortunately. However this was an interesting tale, and he was a soon-to-be ally I didn’t know I had at the time… He wore trousers (thankfully!) but they were incredibly worn down. He had a thick brown beard, little head-hair, and, from my experience, a deep and quaking voice. My conclusions led me to believe that he was a warrior. Simple minded – and uses the sword to make decisions.

We reached a clearing. A small patch of dry grass surrounded by boulders. It looked enclosed; that’s what he thought too. The horse came to a stop.

“So? Mind telling me your name?” I asked. He replied with a punch to my stomach and rapid binding to my wrists with tough leather. He then used the bottom of his boot to kick me to the ground. “Brilliant!” I coughed, “That’s a great start.”

“You don’t talk unless I tell you to.” He roared. I opened my mouth again to bribe him but I decided against it. He, ignoring me of course, started doing his own thing! Tucking into his satchel and withdrawing weapons and sharp tools. He tried his very best to just simply ignore me – when he wasn’t swatting away the flies which jabbed his sweaty forehead – but ended up giving me a monologue.

“The creature will be here very soon.” He growled whilst fiddling with the tip of his shiny sword. I kept my extremely misbehaved vocal chords shut. “We need to prepare.” But then he stopped and seemed to think about what he said. “I need to prepare.” He corrected. Satisfied that he was all ready for the fight, he wrapped me around a dense tree with reassured ropes.

“Look, I know you don’t trust me…” I began. “but I’m just a mere bard! I’m not gonna attack you or… anything.” He wasn’t listening. I sighed before prodding a leaf with my shoe, but also trying to not get my suit dirty. I looked at myself and decided it was already too late. You couldn’t even see the crimson if you tried.

I then heard it roar. The massive rocky giant came out from within the trees and shook me terrified with a gaze alone. I’m sure Geralt had told me that this was a rock troll, but I fear I might have been mistaken (mainly because I wasn’t really listening). It had a thick, rock-like exterior with a face of what seemed like a hundred mangled tongues glued together into a skull shape. Oozes of blood protruded between the cracks between its skin when it walked but it looked comfortable with that; as if it was used to pain. It walked slowly and rhythmically. My captor and my saviour drew his sword as I wiggled my way around the ropes across my chest – looking for a loose end to squirm out of and help him. He, throbbing with adrenaline, started to jab the creature but I wasn’t really paying attention to that. I heard them battle whilst I fiddled with the ropes once again, and again and again. After what seemed like centuries, I broke through and stood up; looking at the fighting man. To my fright, he was already bleeding on the forest floor. But so was the creature. It moaned up against a tree however it had started developing a plan to get back up again and finish us both. To my saviour’s protest, I swiftly grabbed his bloody sword from the mud and threw it like a spear to the eye of the troll. It immediately flopped, the life weeping from it. It made a final, depressive shout before leaving the world and gifting us silence.

“Dandelion.” I said, “my name is Dandelion.” I swiftly offered him a hand up from the ground. Hoping he’d hurry up because the cuts I’d developed before were hurting, I smiled and chuckled a bit. Reluctantly, he agreed and I helped him up whilst he clutched his wound.

“Dune. Guess the feeling’s mutual.”

So, my new ally, Dune, and I huddled ourselves around the campfire we made that evening; dressing our wounds and eating from the supply of food which he kindly offered me. I sighed.

“What brings you here?” he asked. I thought about it for a while and realised my initial goal – to deliver some papers – had officially gone out the window.

“Nothing much I guess.” I replied, “It’s kind of been a long day, mostly forgotten…”

“Tell me about it.” He chuckled before launching himself at a chicken wing and then sucking his fingers to detach the grease. “Look… Dandelion, you’re welcome to tag along with me for a little while,” he smiled warmly, “I’ll keep you safe. I mean, I don’t see you as the adventuring type – so I can’t imagine you making it back to wherever you need to go in one piece.” I smiled again. I didn’t even need to say ‘thank you’ because he could sense it as my eyes lit up. I nodded. Then he continued after getting up and packing his bag. “We better get moving. Here, we can travel on horseback to the nearest village and get ourselves organised.”

They looked like they’d gone to sleep, tankards in hand. I finished the first part of my tale (to which I needed a good few top ups of ale), so I was pretty knackered too, but I pushed their floppy arms away and left them at the table – dozing until the morning. I thought it would be best to sober up for now, then I will happily return to the inn to tell another story.

Hello! I’m so glad to be back. I love writing stories based on the Witcher and I hope you enjoy this one just as much as you did the others. I upload chapters every Monday so stay tuned! Please leave me feedback if you have something you would like to discuss with me, and I hope you have a good week :)

#dandelion's #tales #dandelion #dune #chapter #one #fanfiction #witcher #rise #of #the #white #wolf #assassin #kings #wild #hunt #written #fiction

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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Shackles pt4: A Rocky Start

“So let’s get started shall we?” A click of a button illuminates a completely white room devoid of windows. The gaurd reaches for Jasmine’s wrist and she promptly yanks a way and walks to the only chair in the middle of a room. She knew the drill already. Jasmine was at least gonna do it at her own pace.

The child sat down and placed both arms on the arm rest in between the thick leather straps. Her mind was racing; the nerves in her body already feeling like fire and making the chair creak with her slight trembling. “Let’s just get this over with already.” The soldier scoffs and tightens the straps before leaving the room. It wasn’t long before the door opens again with Sobek himself coming through it with a utility cart that has an array of tools. Each one unnerving her more. Regular needles, injections, a metal bar, wire, and worst of all, the shears. Jasmine can’t keep her eyes off them.

Sobek:So you’re causing trouble little one? I had I feeling I’d see you in this room again. You’re pretty feisty for a girl your age; certainly more grit than your brother it seems. Not to mention your parents.....you have your father’s charisma.

Jasmine:And then you tried to beat it out of him....

Sobek:Correction, I tried to carve it out of him. Unfortunately the man was beyond salvation much like your mother. *grabs injections*

The man methodically stares at the tip of it as he stands in front of her. Jasmine jumps slightly the moment Sobek’s hand grabs her arm.

Sobek:Don’t be scared, I’m not going to be as crude with you. Children....don’t survive that kind of strain.

The need goes into her arm easily. Jasmine stares at the mysterious clear liquid gets injected into her right arm. In mere seconds she started feeling strange. The room started getting even brighter to the point it was straining to keep both eyes completely open. A rapid pounded in her ears and Sobek’s calm grip felt more like a vice. Even the air itself stung each time she took a shallow breath. The man before her watched the drug kick in then snapped his fingers. The sound made her yelp in pain like a gunshot had went off right next to her. “Several hours of pure sensory overload should change your tune nicely.” He spoke in a hushed tone for her sake. It was last bit of mercy she would be given.

Sobek left the room but left the tools. His way or keeping her alert and making the girls own heartbeat a weapon against her. He walked into room that was right before her where the wall that would be her back wall was in fact a one way mirror. Connected to it was a panel with a variety of switches and knobs. He reached for one that was labeled temperature and dialed it down to forty degrees Fahrenheit then reached for another that increased volume. The only sound was feedback steadily rising. Waiting for just the level until.... “Aaaaaaaaaaaa~” he turned it back down on notch and could see Jasmine heaving; cold air visible with each exhale.

“Poor child. I’ll cure you in no time.”

xxxx

Yang:Are you sure this is the right way?

Blake:I don’t travel in the desert Yang. This is just as much of a leap of faith for me as it is for you.

Jacquelyn:Gee I’m glad I can feel the trust in this group.

The three had been walking through the desert for at least half an hour now. It was the dead of night, cold, and the moon was the only witness to anything out here. Yang was not a happy camper about any of that. She might’ve been aggressive to Jacquelyn earlier today but it was from a mix of shock and other things that were going on. Fighting a maiden was absolutely in every worse case scenario she came up with. Yang had sparred with her mother and helped Ruby push back Cinder in battle, however that only told her how different maidens all are from one another. Case in point, the floor right below them.

Right now the three women were walking in a straight line about a foot away from each other. Jacquelyn was of course in the front. Not simply because she’s the one with direction, but because she’s keeping them out of danger. Her powers allow her to change the sand below their feet into rock temporarily; a trick like that had to come with tons of practice. It stayed long enough in that state for Yang to tail her. Followed by Blake and the sand returned to normal.

Yang:Can’t you make this strip of solid land wider? You aren’t exactly lacking in resources.

Jacquelyn:The point is to disturb the ground as little as possible. White Fang and Nightstalkers burrow underground and sense vibrations in shifting sands so they can set sinkholes in appropriate spots. If I change the terrain too much then I’m bound to attract something.

Yang:White Fang....? You can’t be talking about the group right?

Blake:The group got its name from a grimm indigenous to menagerie. They’re build is almost like an dingo and they walk on all fours constantly unlike beowulves. Their face is a strange mix of feline and canine structure. Digging is sort of their thing and you might’ve guessed but their canines are white as bone; incredibly long too.

Jacquelyn:Being bitten by them with or without aura is a real pain. Let’s not deal with that shall we?

Yang:Why would your dad name an organization after a grimm?

Blake:One White Fang is ferocious and will do just about anything to get by.

Jacquelyn:A pack becomes organized and follows the alpha. In numbers they can shape the land around them and will try and stand against just about anything that stops them. That unity is the reason right?

Blake:Adam tell you that?

Jacquelyn:Who else? You gonna tell me that was a lie?

Blake:N...no....

Yang:......So Nightstalkers?

Jacquelyn:They’re basically Deathstalkers but prefer to trap their enemies instead of coming above ground. They do not waste time. The moment you fall into a trap they will try and sting you to stun you, then immediately eat you.

Yang:Yet these are the ones without “death” in their name.

Jacquelyn:I don’t name them. I just try to avoid them. I almost got eaten once but luckily I wasn’t alone.

Yang:I’m pretty sure magic helped.

Jacquelyn:That too...

Yang:Speaking of which, I can’t imagine this stone stepping trick is easy. Must have taken a lot of practice to get it right.

Blake:Yang....

Jacquelyn:It’s fine Blake. I know she’s gauging my strength; I can feel your eyes on me the entire time. It must be a bit unnerving for you to not to be the toughest person around right now isn’t it? Adam had a similar problem.

Yang:Never compare us.

That was a nerve hit Jacquelyn expected. The way Yang said that was enough to tell just how serious she was about it. A blast of warm air against her back was also a sign that the blonde was quite literally heated. It didn’t help that Yang probably could tell that she said that last part on purpose.

Jacquelyn:I was simply making conversation. Are you always like this? You must save hundreds on heating; I know I do. My maiden powers were given to me from a very young age. So yes, I’ve had plenty of time to learn “tricks” like controlling sediments.

Blake:Given?

Jacquelyn:From my mother. She lost her life when I was seven. Been more or less on my ever since. Well I guess that’s not true. James and even Ozpin made sure I lived well; it was in their best interest after all. They taught-

Blake:Wait. Your mom was all you had?

Yang:No town? No dad or anything. A grimm simply killed your maiden powered mom and left you defenseless.

Jacquelyn:Sigh...I said she lost her life; never mentioned any grimm. As for my dad and the village I grew up in, well, they’re the reason my mom lost her life in the first place.

This new information made the partners stop on their tracks. Yang looks at Blake who is just as surprised as she is. They look forward to see Jacquelyn staring at both of them. Her face was calm and more befuddled by the reason stopped.

Jacquelyn:Uhhh we’re sort on a time crunch and I can see my house from here. What’s with the stopping?

Yang:You just told us something heavy. Like really heavy.

Blake:Your dad and own people killed your mom?

Jacquelyn:Don’t forget smashed my hands and tried killing me as well hehe.....*frowns* people fear power, especially power they don’t understand. I don’t let it weigh me down anymore so no need for it to start weighing you both down. Let’s get a move on alright?

Blake:O...okay. I just don’t believe I could handle something like that if I was in your shoes; even with time that’s-

Yang:Extreme. Traumatic doesn’t even begin to describe it. People change after that. Not necessarily for the best, but to survive.

Jacquelyn:You’re not entirely wrong. I wouldn’t exactly say I’m the best version of myself or probably even the most sane.

Yang:That’s not what I want to hear. *scowls*

Jacquelyn:Would you have preferred a lie? I know how you and Blake feel about that sort of thing. You know, people pretending to be what they aren’t? Listen I get why you’re doing psychoanalysis on me, trying to figure me out, and you’ve made it very clear from the start that everything about this situation upsets you. I can understand that; respect it even. However, you’re being really annoying and pissing me off so either ask direct question or shut up.

Yang:Oh you have another thing coming if you think you can talk to me like that.

Jacquelyn:What are you gonna do about it? Did you learn enough about me to think you handle me.

Blake:Guys.....

Yang:I know I can handle you. I just wanted to know how much effort I was gonna need.

Blake:Guys yo-

Jacquelyn:That’s big talk from someone who needed help from her partner and bike to take down Adam. I beat him first try you know? Complete child’s play and I did it over and over again. I bet you figured that at though. After all... you don’t see any metal parts on me right?

Yang:Oh I am gonna-

Blake:GUYS! THE SAND!

Jacquelyn and Yang stop arguing and look around them. Moving mounds circle around them. Their speed makes it hard to count but it’s clear there’s a massive pack around them. Yang starts rolling her shoulders and puts her fist up. “So much for avoiding conflict.”

“Yeah well getting angry in the middle of nowhere might as well be a dinner bell.” Blake said with annoyance as she cocked her gun. “What were you two thinking?”

Yang bites her lips. “Not my finest moment I’ll admit. What’s the best way to deal with White Fang?”

“Ugh, against these numbers, we don’t.” Jacquelyn raises her right foot and then slams it against the sand. Her eyes glow and the ground below all three turns to rock and raises into air ten feet; creating a pillar of rock. Blake and Yang watch Jacquelyn take a knee I’m exhaustion. ‘Damn...I’m more drained than I thought.’ Her body trembling slightly. “We’re going to have to wait.”

Yang:Wait!? We can’t just-

Jacquelyn:There’s at least thirty down there and trust me, you do not want to fight these things right now.

Blake:She’s right. I can definitely hear more of them around. Who knows how many sink wholes are around. Nice going you two; we were almost there.

Yang:I...Jacquelyn, can’t you float or move this hunk of rock to your house? I can see the oasis. That’s the place right?

Jacquelyn:I am tired and moving the entire rock causes vibrations. No way you slice it, we are stuck until they leave.

Yang:....*sits down* Shit.... how long is that gonna take?

Jacquelyn:Few hours maybe? I don’t know when grimm give up.

Yang:*lays down* Juuuussssst great.

Blake:Hopefully before the Sun comes out. I hope no one notices we’re gone too long.

She layed down on her back and stared at the shattered moon. Thoughts lingered aimlessly one after another; so many things were on her mind to keep up with. So many things that she wanted to say about the situation but didn’t. Instead she laid there quietly. ‘Sun, what would you do if you were here? Probably find a way to make those two get along no doubt. Hopefully whatever you’re doing is a walk in the park.’

xxxx

Ilia:Sun this is crazy.

Neptune:You can’t be serious. This is a life or death decision.

Ilia:If you screw up then that’s it. Your life is over. Just another man who lost it all in the streets of Vacou.

Sun:*sweating* Guys relax, I got this.

The trip goes silent as well does the audience around them. Many on lookers watch the monkey faunus stare at three upside cups in front of a well known peddler and part time scam artist. It all comes down this, one cup holds the boy’s future while the others hold despair. Slowly he reaches for the cup in the middle.

Peddler:Are you sure about that one?

Sun:I’m as sure as the rising tides and the fish that travel along them.

He lifts the cup triumphantly to find....nothing. The crowd groans in mass disappointment and dispersed in seconds. Neptune dropped to the ground in defeat. While Ilia face palmed. “Hahahaha! Better luck next time kid” the peddler laughed heavily and proceeded to gather his things and walk off with lien in his pocket and a new pair of goggles.

Neptune:Un....believable.

Sun:I know right? I was so sure it was the middle one.

Neptune:You just lost my money and goggles!

Sun:For the chance to get anything for free he had. That dude always has the best gems. You know we always gotta pay the minimum fee for those sort of deals.

Neptune:So why didn’t you borrow any money from Ilia!!!!?

Ilia:Because you’re his best friend. Plus I couldn’t have an invested interest in the wager. That means I’d have to watch the whole time instead of stealing from him.

Neptune:Still you-....you what?

The girl smiled and put her hands together before rubbing the right one over left and revealing a black diamond ring. “Sun taught me some things. A fitting jewel for your future bride to be huh?”

Sun:That’s if she says yes. *takes the ring* You are right though. I can’t wait to show Blake!

Neptune:Hopefully she doesn’t ask a receipt.

Ilia:Pffft just don’t mention one. Let’s go back to the hotel before-

“My Diamond!”

Neptune:Scatter?

Sun and Ilia:Scatter.....

All three make a dash in different direction through the busy crowd with laughter in their voice. Well, two of them at least were laughing. Ilia watched her idiotic enemy turned best friend climb up on buildings and start booking it like there was no tomorrow. ‘Yeah like that isn’t obvious.’ She took a different approach; maneuvering through people almost like a snake so any pesky peddlers couldn’t get a fixed location on her. The moment she had the opportunity to duck into an alleyway she did so with a gleeful hop; satisfied her years of espionage had not gone to waste or gotten rusty. “Child’s play...”

“Having fun, you little thief?” Said an unfamiliar voice behind her that made her jump. ‘Okay, maybe not child’s play.’ Ilia put up her hands and slowly turned around. “Listen if a peddler that rigs games by secretly hiding things in his sleeves was-” her train of thought was cut off by what stood in front of her. Ilia has expected an angry peddler or some sort cop. Not several armed men wearing cloaks and gripping guns. Each one giving her a look as if she was cornered prey. “Asking.....for....it.”

Captor:Well look at we stumbled across here men. Ilia Amitola, another sick beast in need of curing. The doctor will be pleased.

Part 3

#rwby shackles #ilia amitola #blake belladonna #rwby blacksun #yang xiao long #jacquelyn frost #neptune vasilias #rwby #rwby au #adam taurus

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znationfanfiction · 7 years

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Z-Nation Fanfic

Yet another Z-Nation fanfic I wrote! Feel free to let me know what you think, or even make a request. As always, please no stealing this! Thank you guys and enjoy :)

—————-

I watched them take the group, yanking sacks over their heads and binding their hands before dragging them to the caravan of trucks. A couple of them thrashed, throwing wild kicks in any direction they thought their assailants may be. These fighters got a stiff knee in the gut. I flinched, remembering how I was often on the receiving end of those knees. The movement loosened a part of my bangs from my braid, and I quickly tucked them back, shifting my weight back to my heels. I was ducked behind a small stretch of brush in the trendline, watching through a cheap pair of binoculars.

It wasn’t my first time sneaking out after the men from our compound. I hated that place so much it put a fire in the pit of my stomach to stay for too long, so naturally, I would sneak out as often as I was able. I wasn’t always allied with the men and women at the compound. I was by myself since the zombpocalypse all started that first year, after some thieves shot my mom over our car and a few rusty cans of food. I managed to get away, and learned to take care of myself at just thirteen years old. It was just easier that way, anyway, without a group. I could move more freely, scavenge enough food for only myself easily.

I didn’t go with this particular group willingly…they took me when I had my guard down. Tortured me until they thought my will had broken. I lost count of the bones they snapped, and I had scars striping my body and a nasty one on my right cheek from when they got especially bored. This happened for months, the torture. That was how they got the unwilling to join their little group…power in numbers, and all that.

The group they captured had numbers, skill, and supplies, so they were more valuable than half the compound put together. I followed them the couple miles back to the camp on foot, sticking to the treeline, before slipping under the fence behind what served as the chow hall. I had burrowed a little hole underneath the fence, just big enough for my small frame to fit through, after I healed up and they deemed me safe enough to roam freely around the area. I wasn’t stupid enough to stay gone for too long from the encampment…they had taken a particular liking to my “spunk”, as one man called it, and planted a chip deep in the muscle of my forearm that alerted them if I went out of their range. That was one of the times I hadn’t had the privilege of passing out, so I got to watch the whole thing, helpless to stop it.

I wasn’t allowed to have any weapons, even after being stuck with these monsters for almost two years…they still didn’t trust me with even a butter knife. I guess that’s the price to be paid for trying to gain loyalty through pain and fear. The occasional attempts I made on the leader’s life may also have kept them from giving me access to weapons, but I digress. I still managed keep a decent machete under the loose floorboards of the cabin I shared with two guards.

Dahlia, the leader of our compound, sent groups out often for ammo, food, and other supplies. On the rare occasion, they found a few victims to bring back and force into our ranks. When they didn’t buy into the peaceful way of life that was pitched to them, they were beaten and tortured into submission. My cabin was always close enough that I could hear their screams. Sometimes, I managed to sabotage their missions of capture just enough that the people escaped. They never knew it was me, somehow. They weren’t the brightest baddies in the evil crayon box. Still, I hated every last one of them with every cell in my starved body.

In spite of the monsters that ran that place and the aspirations of murder I had toward Dahlia, I never saw a real reason to leave. I had water, enough food to keep from starvation, and safety, so I didn’t mind being miserable for a little while so much. Something changed, though, when I saw them take that particular group. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that I saw my mother in their leader’s eyes, or how I saw them communicate and act like a family ,or even the strange attraction I felt toward the lanky, dark-haired boy, but I knew they were different, and I had to help them.

That night, I snuck out through the cabin door, my machete tucked into the waistband of my ratty jeans and obscured by an oversized flannel. My windows had long since been boarded, so the door was the easiest way without a power tool. They always kept their new prisoners in what used to be a miniscule police station, since it had a few cells that were presumably used for the town drunks before the apocalypse.

I managed to creep around the perimeter of the fence without running into anyone. When I reached my target, though, the scuffing of oversized boots made my ears prick. I hid around the corner of the station to let a guard patrol past, pressing my back to the rough brick and holding my breath. When they passed, whistling some sort of cheerful number, I stuck to the shadows thrown across the lawn and ducked through the entrance. What I did not factor into my plan was the small bell hung in the doorway that alerted the guard to my presence.

The guard was on me like flies on shit, grasping my forearm and planting a foot into my chest that knocked me to the wooden floor before I had the chance to react.

“If it isn’t darling little Bo,” he grinned, showing a row of black, rotting teeth. “Now, what could you be doing here so late?” He stepped around and pressed his foot to my aching chest.

“Well, that’s none of your damn business, Robert, but I’ll have you know I was just going for a walk. Now, if you don’t mind, get your fat ass foot off me,” I spat, squirming to get out from under the pressure.

He tsked, crossing his massive arms. “You know you’re not supposed to be out this late. It’s past your curfew. Now tell me the real reason you’re here.”

I pulled the machete out of my waistband, leaving a shallow slice along my side, and stabbed it deep into the muscle of his calf. It twitched and spasmed, and I ripped my weapon back out. Robert fell backward, his foot leaving my chest.

“You little bitch!,” he roared.

The muscles across his chest rippled through his shirt as he reached for me, but my small size gave me the advantage. I skipped backward, spinning to his side and lashing out with the machete again, hissing as my side burned. This time, it bit through his ribcage and into his chest cavity. Blood frothed from his lips as he convulsed, and my weapon found his eye socket. Nobody needed a Z running around and infecting everyone…that would have just tipped off every guard to my whereabouts.

I wiped both sides of my machete off on his t-shirt and rose, snatching the key from his pocket. I had to hurry. Surely the sounds had alerted someone. I rushed to the back of the station and slammed through the doorway to the cells. There, the some of the group from earlier was bound tightly to chairs, and the rest occupied the few cells. I went to the cells first and jammed the key into a lock. The boy from earlier was in the cell, and I especially wanted to make sure he went free. I yanked the bars and opened the door, and then was promptly slammed against it, my face pressed tightly against the bars by a large hand on my neck and my arms pinned to my back by another. The boy had both disarmed me and had me pinned in seconds. The gash on my side screamed as it opened further.

I was astounded, my breaths coming in pained and panicked gasps. “Whoa, whoa, I’m just trying to help you guys.” My voice came out distorted through the bars. “Here, take the key and get your friends. I promise I won’t do anything. I’ll stay right here.” I opened my hand to reveal the key.

He grabbed the item from my hand and released me, pushing me away. I stumbled a step and then planted my feet, my hands in the air as I watched him unlock the other cell and then pick up my machete to cut the others free. Once everyone was loose, he stepped up to me.

“Why are you helping us?” His clear eyes searched my face, and his expression remained guarded.

I put my hands down cautiously and removed the flannel, revealing the jagged scars along my torso and arms. “Because I was a prisoner too. I hate it here, and I hate all of them. I couldn’t let them hurt anyone else…”

The tips of his ears turned red as he took in my exposed flesh. There was an ominous ring as someone else entered the station. I pulled the shirt back on and looked to the other group members. “You guys need to get moving if you’re going to get out. They know something is up. Let’s go.”

They hesitated for a beat before following after me to the back storage room, where they kept all their gear. They had just loaded up when the first guard saw us. He had started to yell to the others before another machete sunk into his skull. The leader ripped it back out and rolled her shoulders. The man collapsed, his dead weight bringing him down hard. I led the group out of the building and through more shadows. The guards raced around now, wielding large guns and flashlights and communicating in short shouts. We had reached my small hole in the fence when shouting erupted from the police station.

“They know you’re gone! Go, go, go!” I waved them through frantically and then slipped through myself.

We disappeared into the woods, running for about a mile and a half before stopping to check on everyone. We all panted as we took each other in.

“Thank you…for helping us. I’m Roberta Warren. This is 10k, Addy, Murphy, Doc, and Vasquez.” Their leader extended her hand to me, and I grasped it.

“Call me Bo.” I smiled lightly and looked at the boy again to find him staring intensely back at me. A small thought dawned, sending my heart hammering unsteadily in my chest. “Shit…anyone have a little knife I could borrow?”

The boy nodded and handed me a small knife, which I promptly dug into my forearm, cutting through my muscle to the chip. There was a chorus of nervous “whoas” and gasps over my grunt of pain as the blood streamed down my arm. I reached in at last with a shaking hand and plucked the chip out, then snapped it in half.

“They…chipped me. Didn’t want me going too far unless they knew about it.”

“What, were you like a little pet or something? Are we seriously going to trust this girl?”, a man who appeared…blue….grumbled, irritated.

Doc handed me a handkerchief for my arm and helped me wrap a ripped up piece of shirt around my side.

“She saved us, Murphy. If she wanted us dead, she’d have left us there.” Addy, the redhead, smiled at me warmly. “Thank you,” she turned to me.

“I just couldn’t watch them hurt anyone else.”

“Well…why don’t you come with us for a little while, to California?” Doc patted my hand, a gentle look in his eyes.

Warren hesitated, working me over with a guarded expression. “I…suppose that we could use someone else. Sure. But,” she stepped forward, lowering her voice, “ if you try anything, I will put you down myself.”

I gulped, nodding. “Of course.”

“Okay, great. Now that we’re done with the touchy-feely stuff, can we get going?” Murphy, of course. I was already learning his particular brand of snark.

With that, we headed toward whatever was ahead for us in California.

#z nation #roberta warren #doc #10k #addy carver #fanfic #z nation fanfiction #masterlist

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watsonhealthproject · 7 years

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A Little of a Lot a Bit Later Than Usual

Hello there and happy September :)

This post is overdue in that I have not written in over a week. That said, this is an especially long piece filled with stories from distinct experiences in and out of the hospital. I hope you enjoy!

Note: In many ways, a lot of my writing for this week is observational rather than reflectional. I give my input in some places but for the sake of not writing a novel, I am leaving the interpretation part up to you. Anecdotes are hardly ever representative but they offer us the opportunity to think critically about the circumstances that led to a particular event and its outcome. In that way, we can learn loads from anecdotes and I hope that you take the time to consider some of the implications of the stories I am sharing with you.

I look crazy in this picture but it is an insider look at one of my rotations in the hospital (I don’t usually take pictures in the hospital because it feels so unnatural. Convincing myself to ask the doctor for this picture took a while). I learned all about nuclear medicine and in this particular instance, was posing in front of a treadmill that is used as a “stress test” prior to taking “pictures” of the heart.

Complications of Cancer Treatment in Ecuador

**During a radiation oncology rotation, the doctor explained to me that in all of Ecuador, there are only 4 cities that have radiation oncology units. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this topic, radiation therapy is a treatment that is administered every weekday for a set amount of time (usually 5 to 8 weeks). The side effects vary depending on what part of your body receives the treatment. It is very important to note that this is an outpatient treatment, which means that the patient has to go to the hospital everyday but is not hospitalized. What does this mean? If you live outside of the 4 cities and radiation is part of your treatment, you have to travel everyday or find a place to live in one of the cities with the appropriate technology for the duration of your treatment. What happens if neither of these are options - you don’t receive the potentially life-saving treatment.

I heard two stories (of opposite extremes) related to this reality in Ecuador.

- A female patient in her mid-thirties was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She had two children and her husband left her shortly after the news of her diagnosis. Unfortunately, this patient lived 6 hours (via bus) from the closest radiation facility. She decided that it was more affordable to make the 12 hour trip to and from the hospital every day for the entire duration of her treatment (as opposed to finding temporary housing in the city). Since she did not have any familial support, she had no choice but to leave the kids home. It was a tragic situation for all involved parties.

- An elderly male patient (83 y.o) was diagnosed with cancer and had to receive radiation therapy. However, he could not travel alone and none of his children were able to take him to the hospital daily for reasons that were not explained. As a result, this patient simply did not get treatment. After the disease progressed, the family reached out to the hospital again to try and restart the radiation. While this may sound like good news, a more advanced cancer is a lot harder to treat and therefore, the prognosis is not as good as it was the first time radiation was presented as a possibility.

There were also stories between the extremes:

- Many patients stop going to radiation because it makes them feel worse than they had before they started or traveling to the hospital each day becomes too burdensome.

- Hospital runs out of medications that are used in conjunction to radiation therapy (for prostate cancer in particular) so unless the patient can buy them elsewhere, they have no choice but to remain unmedicated until the medicine becomes available at the hospital.

Why do these stories matter? Getting the news that you have cancer is a devastating thing in and of itself. We have tools to combat the disease but unfortunately, their lack of availability leaves already vulnerable people with impossible decisions.

“Foro De Vacunas 2017″

I had the pleasure of attending a conference that was focused on pediatric vaccination strategies in Latin America, the progress of vaccination programs, challenges of implementation, and the continued importance of building a culture that prioritizes preventative medicine, and in this particular case, vaccinations. There was a lot of information that was passed on but here are a few things/ideas/points that stood out to me:

- There were representatives from the Ministry of Public Health present and when they spoke, it was very clear that the audience of medical professionals was skeptical of their performance. I even asked those around me why they were scolding and they told me that the presenters were lying and omitting important information. Specifically, those around me pointed out that a strategy is one thing and that the reality of implementation is another. The Ministry defended themselves saying that they are in a process of revitalization and that progress takes time. A doctor pointed out that it is non-sensical that the ministry develops, implements, and evaluates all of their programs internally. According to him, there should be an independent civilian and professional entity that assesses the progress of the ministry.

- One doctor on a panel said “En vacuna no se gasta. Se invierte” (With vaccines, we do not spend, we invest). In my opinion, this doctor’s words reflect a particular way of thinking about how money is used to achieve public health goals - spend more now to save later. It is a preventative, long term, and forward-looking framework. This was in direct contrast to something another doctor explained: He argued that politicians are not always willing to approve vaccination programs (as well as other long term health projects) because the results are not realized within their political terms and therefore, do not necessarily serve their agendas. In this case, public health expenses and projects are contextualized within short-term and politicized frameworks that prioritize quick results over more fundamental, systematic changes.

- The relationship between climate change, infectious disease, and public health is huge. Among many other things, increasing temperatures have led mosquitos to reproduce in new and larger geographic areas.

- “The lack of access to HPV vaccination, which helps prevent cervical cancer, for young latin american women is simply violence against women. It is unacceptable” - Paraphrased from a presenting doctor.

- This conference had a massive emphasis on the importance of data collection, analysis, and use. Epidemiological data was presented at the forefront. I absolutely agree that evidence-based methodologies are essential for effective public health programs. However, after my medical anthropology class last semester, I recognize that this science-centered rationalization of medicine is just one of many ways of understanding healthcare. The scientific evidence very clearly shows that vaccinations are a safe and effective means for reducing infectious disease and as a person who believes in the biomedical model of medicine, I am convinced that we need to continue improving national vaccination programs. However, for some people in the general public, depersonalized numbers have little meaning. They do not necessarily convince one to prioritize getting vaccinated. That said, I found the conference to be lacking in the discussion of cultural and educational factors that contribute to the challenges of vaccination program implementation. Just last week a doctor was explaining to me that people refused to go to the hospital in a town she worked in because it was a common belief that ‘the hospital kills.” In this community, a successful program would require a nuanced approach that takes into account the fear of biomedical institutions that has been passed down for many generations. As with most large scale programs, standards are important but uniformity is dangerous.

- “Vaccines and vaccination are not the same thing. It is easy to buy vaccines and tons of money is already being invested in this endeavor. However, vaccinating an entire population is very difficult because it requires the consideration of many moving parts that are not always within the control of those tasked with implementing vaccination strategies.” - Paraphrased from a presenting doctor.

Understanding Health Outcomes: Why Do Patients Stop Taking Prescribed Medications?

Here are some of the most common responses patients have given with regards to this question:

- Medication runs out (at home / at hospital / in town)

- Symptoms stop being burdensome so patient assumes medication is no longer necessary

- Side effects are too burdensome

- Patient never obtains medications (misunderstandings / financial restrictions)

- Patients take medication, but not as instructed

- Use of alternative medical remedies instead of prescribed medications

- Don’t understand the purpose or importance of taking a particular medication.

Chronic Disease Management: A topic of increasing interest

Marginalization, access, and healthcare are exceptionally broad topics. In creating a plan for my Watson year, I embraced this broadness as an opportunity to follow my interests and figure out where I fit in in the efforts to improve healthcare access for all. The more time I spend in Ecuador, the more I find myself perplexed and intrigued by the challenges of chronic disease management. Why? This is an issue for the institution of medicine that, based on my observations, is better equipped for the treatment of acute problems. At the same time, it is an issue for those affected because disease management often requires changes in one’s lifestyle that are often very difficult to make. That said, it seems like a topic area where innovation and leadership are very necessary (aka my middle names).

Palliative Care:

I had the wonderful opportunity of spending some time at a foundation in Quito that focuses almost exclusively on providing palliative care services to terminally ill patients. Unlike the rest of medicine, palliative care is not intended to prolong life but rather, to improve the quality of it through medical, spiritual, and emotional support. Palliative care normalizes death and gives patients the opportunity to pass in a painless and dignified manner. To be honest, before I arrived I was afraid of the feelings that might strike me. In the end, I found that it is a deeply human specialty area. There are simply no other words to describe it.

Rural(ish) Healthcare:

Exciting news! Thanks to a partnership with Manna Project International, I will have the opportunity to speak to community members (formally and informally) to learn more about their perspectives on the healthcare services available to them. This is a particularly exciting opportunity because what I learn will not only inform my own explorations but also, possibly contribute to the development of programs at Manna based on what community members say. With a little bit of help at home, I am developing a set of questions that I want to ask to guide some of the conversations I will be having. My first conversation will happen next week. Updates on how it goes are surely to come!

The very cute sign that welcomes all visitors into the hub of Manna Project International.

An impressively bad picture of me on the bus home from my first of hopefully many trips to el Valle de los Chillos.

Updates on My Life as a Dancer:

I am kind of obsessed and not really sure what to do or what to make of this. It is a little crazy because for most of my life, I could not imagine a life outside of medicine. However, somehow my love of dance runs so deep that I could picture, for the first time, another thing to which I could dedicate a substantial amount of my time to. This is not to say that I am calling it quits on becoming a doctor or that I even want to. Rather, it serves to show how much of an impact this particular activity has had on my sense of self.

I try to be really reflective about where my feelings come from. Is it simply the sense of community that draws me or is there something else? The more I think about it, the more I realize that music and dance are very tightly knit to my own sense of “latinidad.” How so? I was the child that refused to dance at family parties and had a significantly stronger affinity for all things “english.” I don’t think I really came to consider what being a latina meant to me until I got to college and for the first time, I was not surrounded by a million things “latino.” The first time I felt like an outsider at Bowdoin was not during orientation or in a class but in the dining hall, after spending a weekend away at a conference for dominican students. I realized my “otherness” as a student of color at Bowdoin and rather than feeling ashamed and trying to fit in more, I did the exact opposite. I started to more intentionally explore my “dominicanness” and a huge part of that took the form of music and dance. Therefore, dancing is not simply fun, it is the means through which I understand and explore what it means for me to be a young dominican-american woman. I understand my body to be a political statement and dance allows me to simultaneously engage with and convey the history of my ancestors. To the unknowing passerby, bachata may seem like just another sensual dance. However, as far as I am concerned, the intimacy with which bachata is associated goes beyond the dancing pair. I like to say that bachata is in my blood, and when I dance, I feel intimately connected to my family and our small country in the caribbean. I feel more whole and grounded. Dancing bachata makes me proud to be a Dominican. This is why I love it so much.

It would be naive to ignore the sexism and misogyny that is tightly interwoven into the culture of latino dance and music because there have been many moments, in my time in Ecuador alone, when I have found myself cringing. However, I will leave this topic for another time :) For now we can appreciate the positives.

Life Outside of the Medical Questions

Burger King in Ecuador <3

I went to the disco with my dance group and it was loads of fun. When we got to the place, they refused to let me in because a NY driver’s permit is not considered valid identification. I was ready to go home after it was obvious that the guy wasn’t going to change his mind but then Yesi (the girl next to me) offered to go out of her way and drive me to and from home to pick up my passport. When I finally got inside, I was so happy because there were some amazing dancers everywhere (like doing tricks on the dance floor amazing!)

I finally managed to find decently priced books in spanish that I can read. When I finish this book, it will be the first novel I have ever read from start to finish in spanish! I wonder what I felt when I finished a book by myself for the first time. I am almost certain it was something similar to what I will feel when I get to the end of this novel.

The Challenges of this Nomadic Life

It makes me really sad to know that I have to leave eventually. When I went out with my dance friends, we were talking about going to Guayaquil (another city in Ecuador) for a dance conference of sorts. I was under the impression that the event they were talking about was at the end of September and so I was talking as if I was going to be in attendance. However, someone mentioned that it was in November and without thinking, I announced that I could not go. When the instructor looked at me with furrowed brows, I clarified that I would no longer be in Ecuador. His (exact) response was “Mariely no me haga esto” (Mariely don’t do this to me). There was a general pause and the moment passed quickly but it was so heartbreaking because it was a reminder of how temporary my time is here.

If thinking about leaving is hard, it is even harder to think about having to start the process of making friends and integrating myself into the community all over again. Of course this constant change during the Watson experience is expected and comes with its rewards. However, I am not even leaving yet and it feels like “ahhhhh.”

I digress because sometimes I think too far ahead in the future. Since I know my time is limited, it gives me all the more reason to live, love, and laugh with all of my heart and mind, to be at all times, fully in the present.

Things to Look Forward To:

Conferences: I have managed to find a few medical conferences that are free and that address some of the things I am exploring and interested in. I have realized that FB events is a very useful resource!

And of course, this post would not be complete without a quote for the week:

"Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.” - Anita Desai

#Watson Fellowship

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roninkairi · 7 years

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GAME REVIEW: The Legend of Zelda- Breath of The Wild

I am kind of hard pressed in finding a good way to start off this review. I mean, I have spent the better half of the past 2 months exploring many of the various locales in Hyrule and trying very hard not to royally screw up, as well as devise ways to make rupees and gain better weapons, what series of sentences could I use to best sum up that kind of commitment to a game?

But then again, maybe I just did right now. I don’t think I could find a proper way to start off a good review without sounding either too fanboyish or pretentious. Also, to be quite fair, many of you who have been noticing certain pics I’ve put up on my Facebook and Tumblr accounts know I’m dedicated to this game. And with good reason, as it seriously is one of the best developed games ever produced for the Zelda series. Now this review is probably gonna take a bit of time for you to slog through, so pull up a chair and relax, this MAY take a while…

Initially made for the Wii-U (the one I will be reviewing here), Breath of the Wild is both the final game developed for the Wii-U and one of the launch games for the new Nintendo Switch. Graphically speaking, it seriously pushes the Wii-U, as you will see as you travel throughout the lands. From the plains of the Great Plateau and Central Hyrule, to the snowfields of the Hebra section and the vast deserts of the Wasteland, there isn’t one real ugly speck of dust out there. Well, maybe with the exception of any areas that is infected with the Malice goop, which I strongly suggest against touching. (Trust me, the stuff is like black slime in Ghostbusters—gets everywhere and is very hard to wash off…)

As the theme of the game is reliant on the nature aspect, it seems almost organic in tone. And many of the other areas that are populated seem to borrow from certain parts of history (the developers said that the inspiration for the art came from the Jomon period of Japanese history. A quick Google search confirmed my curiousity) or are unique in itself, like the Gerudo women and their insertion of their own words for welcoming people and describing men and women respectively. In a way, it’s an interesting approach and gives the world some more personality than you may be used to. It also helps because for the most part, the primary story is simple: Link wakes up after being asleep in the Resurrection Shrine for 100 years and finds out that Ganon, or Calamity Ganon, is about to break out of his prison within Hyrule Castle, so it’s your job to go and kill him (Oh and save Zelda while you’re at it.) The bulk of the plot details are told either through flashbacks, or memories, scattered throughout the game and through journals and interactions with many other NPCs. I can understand why some people may not like the lack of a proper structured story but to be fair, most of the people that Link knew before he was put into sleep are, for lack of a better term, dead. The only handful of people still alive that remember him or personally know Link are either super old or Zora. (They have a RIDICULOUS long life here in the game and it makes a certain side mission a little…ummm…ODD.) I think though that as you make the journey all the stuff you get to do for the people you meet help to keep some semblance of a moving plot. Yeah, the people are aware of a giant Eldritch abomination that is on the loose, but they are preoccupied with other things, like getting married, treasure hunts and getting a picture of a Lynel. (Oh yeah, Lynels…I will get to those fuckers soon enough…)

By now you are probably used to the standard ways that the previous Zelda games have started out, which is a lengthy tutorial section where you learn the ins and out of combat, how the controls work and so forth. Well, not this time. Nintendo really meant it when they said this would not be the standard Zelda game; You start off in the Resurrection Shrine, get the Sheikah Slate, some clothes and a quick briefing on running and climbing, and then…that’s it. You step outside, get a beautiful opening wide shot of the area below and that’s all there is, now go follow that mysterious old man who just noticed you and is walking down the path. You want a weapon? Go find it. The Great Plateau is basically your training ground and you will learn, the HARD WAY I should stress, the ins and outs of combat, when to pick a fight and when not to and just how important it is to horde food. And once you finally get off of the Great Plateau (which itself will take a good chunk of time) the real adventure kicks in.

One of the best things about the original game was the open world aspect, where you have free reign to go out and explore the landscape. This is made very evident here in this game as well. The game is MASSIVE. Seriously. Hyrule here is supposed to be much, much bigger than the world of Skyrim and I will have to take them at their word for it seeing as I’ve yet to play Skyrim. (Yes, shocking I know, give me a break already.) There’s no one way to approach your quest. You COULD, if you wanted to, go and try to take down Ganon right away. I can tell you, after seeing Hyrule Castle later in the game, going straight from The Great Plateau to Hyrule Castle is tantamount to actual suicide. I mean in THEORY you could do it but it would be very hard and you would need to, well, NOT GET HIT. EVER.

Which brings me to the next point: the combat system. It still retains the basic controls, where we have Z targeting and shielding. But there has been quite a few changes. Instead of just a one handed sword, Link can now wield spears, bigger swords, rods and various clubs, boomerangs, halbreds and…a mop. No really, you get to use mops too. But you have to be careful, as durability on various weapons factor in; You could be wailing on a bokoblin horde with a sweet broadsword and then—you get a warning that the weapon will soon break. You are forced to constantly scrounge for weapons, bows and shields as you play. It’s an interesting way to make sure you do not rely too heavily on one weapon AND have the right tool for the right battle, but I would be a liar if I said I didn’t see the disadvantages of this at crucial moments. However, there are a couple of new methods employed now for attack and defense; the flurry, which can be activated if you manage to pull off a perfect dodge and the perfect parry, instrumental in deflecting certain attacks. The latter is very useful in a pinch especially against Guardians. Plus, it’s a good way to reduce wear on the shield. As you play further and further in the game, these skills will become not only second nature, but essential.

The foes you will face are varied too. Each type have their own unique quirks and behaviors, plus they will learn to adapt to your own tactics. If you try to lay a bomb at a bokoblin horde, one of them may have enough insight to kick it back to you. A Moblin may pick up a bokoblin and throw it at you if it lacks a suitable weapon. And then there are Lynels…

Yeah those bastards.

I do not know precisely WHY they made these one of the toughest things to fight in the game. But they are for some godforsaken reason. The Lynels, Talus, Hynox and Molduga are some of the biggest and, at times, tougher fights waiting for you out in the field. They are risky but worth the rewards they reap when you do kill them. And given that the Blood Moon in this game revives all the guys that you kill off, you will not have a shortage of battles. But if, by any chance, a Blood Moon occurs right AFTER you fight a particularly tough battle, then you’re kind of screwed, especially if you are low on food or weapons. And that’s the beauty of the combat in this game, it is simple in theory but when you actually go out there almost anything can happen. The healing system has also undergone a significant change, as you need now to eat food and elixirs in order to regain health out in battle, as opposed to the old ways of getting hearts. And they actually went out of their way to make the cooking system fun to use. You will experiment with cooking to find not only the best recipes for healing, but for gaining serious strength or defense buffs when you need it the most. Trust me, you will NEED to stock any and all ‘mighty’ ingredients.

Also, as you start to play, you may die. A LOT. Enemies can hit hard so getting the best armor will also be a priority. In previous titles, armor only really slighty changed the damage you could receive but here it is a matter of life and death. Some armor sets have idden benefits that can make exploration and combat easier. It’s also required to survive in other regions. Ever wonder how Link manages to survive being in certain places like volcanos without serious heat damage? In this game, it now is a factor. Whether it’s snow capped mountains or desert landscapes, your choice of clothes and/or elixirs can make a difference. But when it rains it can REALLY slow you down. Lightning storms also really, REALLY suck until you get the Lightning Helm.

Another real huge departure now is the dungeon system, or rather lack of. The game has only 4 main “dungeons”, or Divine Beasts, to go through (and of course, Hyrule Castle) while everything ese is now placed into Shrines hidden throughout the game, which house the Spirit Orbs you need in order to gain Heart Containers or Stamina Wheel expansions, and also weapons and treasure. Some of the Shrines just require a simple puzzle, others require more devious means of entry or survival (fear Guardian Scout IV). And even with the Sheikah Sensor just finding them is a task in itself. (Yeah, lets not even discuss Eventide Island, because that may cause some people to have fits.) It’s an interesting deviation, although some may wish to have a go at a standard Zelda dungeon. That may actually be the best way to describe the final area, Hyrule Castle. It was the only one I felt that seemed more in tune with the traditional Zelda game structure (barring the lack of compass and boss key of course.) The Divine Beast area are an interesting new way to get around this, though.

Now the soundtrack is another area I wanted to go into deeper with. You know how there is always a prevalent theme in the main field as you travel? Well…it’s not here. I mean there is music in the game, but only in certain areas and instances. When it does happen, it can go from nice and quiet to awesome in a second. Unless, of course, you are dealing with a Guardian. One second, you will be in the field, walking around and then that single piano chord plays and OH FUCK WHERE IS THAT RED LIGHT COMING FROM?!!!

There are actually quite a few musical nods to previous games (Like the Death Mountain area) along with many, MANY references to past Zelda lore. Certain islands and regions, for example, are named after many characters. You can even, if you have the right Amiibo, get gear related to past LOZ titles, such as tunics, swords, bows and even Epona herself (and Wolf Link, if you bought Twilight Princess). The side quest and other numerous things you can do are also here to help you out and keep you busy. Want more weapons or shields? Go look for Koroks! They can be almost anywhere and getting their seeds helps you to expand your inventory. (I wouldn’t go out of my way to collect all 900 of them though. Yes, you read right, 900. Just stop at 400) You can also take pictures to fill up the Hyrule Compendium, shield surf down slopes, go horseback riding, tackle an obstacle course or two, ride a fucking bear into battle—

No I did not make an error there. You can ride many different animals aside from horses. You can ride deers, elks, a moose, an undead horse, the King of The Mountains and even a bear...while it's ON FIRE.

…lets face it, this is the LEAST badass thing you will do at this point. There ‘s a LOT to do in this game. You can take your time or you could speed through it, your choice. But yeah, I’d take my time to enjoy this.

If I had to gripe about anything, it’s just this; the boss battles may be a little underwhelming. It depends though; I mean if you have the Master Sword with you when you take on any of the bosses in the Divine Beasts and Hyrule Castle then yeah, it can be quick. (Especially if you also get Ancient Arrows to even the odds.) And the final battle…I rather not give away too much, but my only reason for getting through that is the fact that at that point in the game, I had experienced so many other types of fights that when it was time to face Ganon, I pretty much knew what the hell to do at the right time, plus I had the Master Sword and beat all of the Divine Beasts first. Also, as many have said, I think the story progression could have been done a little differently.

I wanna say that this is a complete assessment of everything this game has to offer, but it’s not as we have DLC coming later, which will add some new costumes, a Hard Mode (because apparently this game was taking it easy on us) and a new story that will be added in the fall. But from what I have played now, I can most definitely say this is one of the best games ever made, period. If you have a Wii-U this is a no brainer you get this game. If you have a Switch, yeah ditto, but make sure you charge up that bad boy because you will be playing this. A LOT.

#game review #the legend of zelda #breath of the wild #wii-u #nintendo switch

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