#and I just feel way too behind on lore to waste time reading current stories that might be confusing without context

[dirkxcaliborn]

"date has changed, returning to home screen"

me: oooooh I see by 03:59 that meant reset was at 4 am. I see now-WH...HUH..... IT'S 4 AM!?

[misakialter]

Omega And Season 1

This is a "Everyone Dropkick Misaki Before They Don't Stop Talking" post. So I'm gonna open up by saying thank you for reading if you're here to listen to me.

Anyhow...

Not content with giving it some time of the day on my Media Thread on Twitter yesterday, I wanted to fully go off about Saint Seiya Omega (The First Season) because it sure is a series I did not expect to like as much as I did in spite of it having some serious shenanigans which are so hard to get behind.

To know what I'm talking about in case you don't know about it, here's a quick summary:

The series is about a group of warriors serving under the reincarnation of Goddess Athena who strive to protect the world against great evils who wish to take Earth for themselves or even destroy it.

Set after the main series as a sequel, our story tells the tale of Koga, the new bearer of the Pegasus Cloth, who was raised by the current Athena herself, Saori Kido. After her kidnapping by the powerful god known as Mars, his journey is set into motion and along his upstart Bronze Saint companions are pitted onto a grand scale battle for the survival of Earth with all odds stacked against them.

They are some key aspects it shares with it's predecessor but unlike other series who are perfectly content on tidying up what already works, Omega instead pitches brand new things, for better or worse, to see what sticks.

Omega and Legacy

Right of the bat we tackle gracefully the involvement of the previous main cast while also not diminishing the role of the past protagonist and previous Pegasus, Seiya, the only one who remains a little more of an active participant. They are mostly absent with a good excuse from the story's part, but also offer a passive involvement as mentors to the new generation of Bronze Saints, so they are not wasted. They also play a huge part on the legacy and lore the series are set in through their connections through the villian and their confrontation with them.

I mention it here because this is part of the foundation of this world, something that makes everything tick and have a place, making much of the original series feel appreciated without needing to pave the way so hard to the new one as to spit in the face of it. It's something that a sequel series often tends to miss with, instead of properly reading the room.

The series also makes sure to play with said expectations of the original lore and play with it — There's deadass a fight which is a copypasted homage but the outcome is different PRECISELY because of it's context. It can be safely said that nostalgia is weaponized by Toei in a rather interesting manner compared to other sequel series.

This is probably one of the strongest aspects of the series on a fundamental level so whenever it does something like say, the Sanctuary Arc again, it doesn't feel eye rollingly whack we're doing this again on yet another series because there's more than enough to avoid it holding up entirely by nostalgic feelings.

Of course, now that we're getting to the plot, we're starting to see the more obvious cracks in the armor.

Omega and Storytelling

Let me tell you a horror story in one sentence:

WEEKLY SCHEDULED ANIME EPISODES ON THE 2000s

So you know, it's felt in a lot of places, here included.

Our first episode leaves a good hook for the series which is soon a little muddled in the following ones. Key introductions for some characters are made but the decision of having the Palaestra, a school of Saints, might sound way too much of a generic setup, followed up with a tournament too.

Fuckiiiinnnn uuuuuuhhhhhh—

— And then it's thrown away almost immediately. The deceptively generic first few episodes kick into gear eventually and now we meet Aria — a character who is gonna remain super important this season — broaden the scope of the conflict, get to see EXACTLY how dire this is, increase the amount of intrigue and deliver a lot of promise for the future of this sequel.

...

What you just experienced here is the first sudden peak this series felt like having.

Continuing with the road trip, we suffer a bit of filler, a bit of inconsistency, and it takes a while until the ideas begins to flourish. It's clear that the format is unfit for the things they wanna do in the series, and as they cannot find ways to stretch things, plotlines can become dormant or episodes take a bit before they stop feeling just okay. And thus, much like the characters in the series in terms of power ups, it bursts sporadically into some truly spectacular heights.

Koga (To an extent), Aria, Eden, Sonia, Soma, Mars and some of the Gold Saints' development prove to be constant highlights of the story and promises that are delivered on with extreme efficiency and are set up as early as they are introduced, which feels like a reward to one's faith into these ideas and are probably your reasons to stick by.

That is not to say that is free of sin and makes it easy to do so: The element mechanic being quickly dropped, some fights kinda blend with the rest and are just serviceable, the aimless nature of the roadtrip that could've made it drag on, the lack of focus on some of the main characters I hadn't mentioned (To the point Haruto is like, disappearing between episodes sometimes) and so on, so forth. They are notable points which hold the story back, and it truly doesn't fix it as it keeps going.

As we segue into Omega's own Sanctuary Arc, it does everything in it's power to do good on it. While not perfect, this last portion of the season shines as brightly as it can and peaks the hardest — To the point of making me feel A LOT. Like it got me for real.

And even as we got the finale the series closed off spectacularly, and in a way so definitive I could confidently list my feelings about it. So even as I list the drawbacks, I find myself highly hesitant to call it a bad season overral, especially because I had fun. Mid feels like also selling it short. But objectively, it's not like I can call it the best thing ever.

It is very well able to fool me into doing so, however, and that is the biggest compliment I can give it.

Omega and Presentation

And that's the biggest compliment I can give it I guess.

As I said before, the curse of being a weekly means that it's cursed with being animated weakly. Some key episodes get to pop off with fantastic shots and amazingly detailed drawings but there's also moments of low budget where a still drawing gets zoomed in and stock footage is reused. The writing has to carry a lot of this but a lot of this is also not helping a ton unless it's a very important moment in the story. So much like it, it stays middling until it peaks.

The action is also the reason why the armors were redesigned into these new, simpler and smoother looking ones, the intention was to make it look good in motion, and it does! But it's not as often exploited as it can be.

Here's the thing:

The reason why the classic Saint Seiya was fine with the bulk was mostly due to there not being a need for dynamic and smooth flow with such static but to the point action — They ARE metallic armors after all — And yet it still made a point to change up the designs when bringing it to an Anime to something easier and modern looking, to put it into motion which was a necessity.

With Omega this core idea is a hit or miss. I like the armors, but at the same time, these characters do not feel armored. Some fans are outright aleniated by them but in my honest opinion, the issue with it is more about the fundamental usage being heavily underplayed when that was the whole point, and not so much the fact that they look like this, considering these are STILL neat looking designs especially in this artstyle and in motion. Getting the job done is at least something they accomplish fine.

Either way, let's end up with an amazing positive: The OST. Dear lord, the music was fucking fantastic in every way. The tracks it borrows from the original are done great justice while new tracks fit the scale of the story perfectly, and it is hardly misused or jarring. It doesn't reach the peak of Saint Seiya's original soundtrack but it is an incredibly worthy successor, giving Omega a standout identity on that aspect. And when they made a second opening after their rendition of Pegasus Fantasy for the first... CHRIST, now THAT'S understanding your series.

...Oh, I'm still talking about the music, not Omega as a whole, don't worry. Don't want to give you a heart attack after all.

Omega and Saint Seiya

When you have to follow up an original work, especially a classic to many, you're set up with some insane expectations. Not being able to deliver them is also kinda crushing, it can be disappointing to give it any sort of chance. Change, new ideas, different stories, all become taboo if you cannot find your footing or appropiately pitch them with conviction.

A sequel series is a difficult thing to make, let alone have it stand out on it's own.

And I fully believe Omega managed to pull it off with this season... After falling down the stairs for a couple times IT'S NOT PERFECT GUYS IT'S JUST A SILLY LITTLE THING IT'S OKAY IT KILLED NO ONE UNLIKE THE NETFLIX SHOW.

To it's detriment it's one of the most unique amongst the sequels to Saint Seiya and the one whose best ideas shine through spectacularly in spite of all it has to go through to commit to the good ones. Objectively it's got some notable weaknesses getting in the way but beyond animation, it was personally fun to experience and I do not regret it in the least when the worst it could offer me is Mid™ rather than a complete waste of it's potential.

Overral, the series stumbles, but does not fumble. I had a lot of fun with it no matter what the issues were. I am ready for whatever the fuck is supposed to be at Season 2.

And as always thank you for reading, hope it was fun.

Later!

[janewatson]

Helluva Boss Trailer Analysis!

Yes, I watch this.  Yes, I like it.  No, I won’t argue with you about it.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s just say that I was up when the trailer dropped, and was still up for a bit after.  I’ve watched it so many times now, just absorbing everything, and now it’s time to break it down.

I’ve seen a few breakdowns already, but I noticed that there were a few things people hadn’t mentioned.  So I’m tossing my hat in the ring, let’s see if we can figure out what Vivziepop has in store for us!

I’ll be breaking down by scene, as well as go over voiceovers and predictions real quick, so prepare for a read after the cut!

Ok, first, had to laugh at Millie’s Peppermint Vodka Molotov Cocktail.  Creative, but what a waste of vodka :(  The background is of a beach, but she’s not in beach clothes (let’s face it, a bikini would probably kill Moxxie)

Moxxie is shooting at something while he’s swinging from a rope in a deserted theater.  Piano on the floor, and a sun pattern on the back wall

Blitzø (thanks for the copy/paste, Google) cleaving a blonde in half with a baseball bat.  Damn, he stronk!

Diss Summar’, with the little doodles!  So cute :3

Drunk/drugged/in shock Moxxie, poor Millie, and something big bursting out from the water behind.  Tied to first scene?

Stolas’ ‘Special Access’ bit from the Sneak Peeks, talking about the Harvest Moon festival in Wrath

Moxxie and Blitzø in a green lit room, looks like a two-way mirror on the wall.  Interrogation?

Correction to ‘Diss Season’ XD  Hopefully that means we’ll get an episode before spring, but if they need more time, that’s understandable

Glammed up Stolas at some kind of burlesque, owned by Asmodeus ‘Ozzie’, Prince of Hell’s Lust circle.  Wonder why he’s there...

CHERUBS!!!  Also from the Sneak Peeks, we know that this is a commercial, and that the TV showing said commercial gets blown up a few seconds later

Angry Blitzø, probably yelling at Moxxie, being scared shitless by a hellhound behind him.  I think this is a repo/impound/chop-shop guy who took IMP’s van, as in a later scene, they’re shown in a fence with other cars, especially because Blitzø yells ‘RUN’ at the end of the scene

Loona and Blitzø filming someone’s misery (again, probably Moxxie).  They’re in western outfits, but they’re probably still in Hell

Tentacle wrapping around drugged Moxxie and taking him, too fast for Millie to react and stop it.  Again, looks like it’s tied to the first and fifth scenes

Sassy Blitzø, probably talking to the repo-hellhound or punching-bag Moxxie.  Same setting as scene 11

Blitzø running to the window of what looks like a recording studio, with ‘VM’ spray painted on the doors next to him.  He looks distraught, but it’s not clear why

Recently choked-out Moxxie recovering, while being frame by a spiny-tailed Imp wearing what I assume is a serape, since it looks like they’re on the ranch Loona and Blitzø cheered a poor soul, scene 12

DEPRESSED BIRD DADDY.  WHY ARE YOU SAD???  IS IT GONNA MAKE ME SAD??? OH NO I’M NOT READY unless its a flashback, but stilllll

Perturbed Blitzø holding his special flintlock in a western-themed room.  Looks like he has his outfit from scene 12 on, probably the same episode, but whatever happened/is going to happen, it’s not good

Dressed-up Moxxie, who probably jumped bombed a performance, is upstaged by Robo Fizz and most likely a Robo Ozzie, given the designs on its’ head(s).  He looked uneasy even before the Robos popped up, so something else was going on first.

Scaley eye blinking and getting MAD, attached to the tentacle that kidnapped Moxxie?

50% off add for Spring Break victims, complete with coffee stain, and Blitzø‘s horse doodles.  I got a mental image of Moxxie scolding Blitzø for drawing at work, so he BS’d it into an ad.

Either Blitzø is a terrible driver, or they’re trying to speed away from someone.  Repo-hound, maybe?

HUMAN!!!  Almost definitely a human pop-star singing on a Coachella-esque stage!  I tried to fill in her name, but could only get ideas of what some letters were.  Her initials are most likely VM, from the recording studio scene, but the bottoms of some letters could be an E or L, K or R, so we’re left with V~(L/E)(K/R)OSI(K/R)A MA~~.  It also looks like she’s wearing heels, so she may be the person who threw Blitzø in a later scene

Moxxie about to be trampled by what can only be a horse, given his outfit.  Loona and Blitzø are probably filming XD

Shocked Stolas, standing up at table.  Same outfit as the burlesque, but he doesn’t looked surprised enough that it’s the part where Moxxie is upstaged, more something emotionally jarring.  Blitzø kissing someone else, maybe?

Blitzø pushing Moxxie out of the way and pinning him just outside a Hell portal in an alley, most likely Earth.  Blitzø looks mad, and rightly so, as he’s looking a little beat up himself.  Connected to the interrogation scene?

Happy Blitzø turns horrified outside some elevators with Moxxie.  Judging by the water cooler in the back, I think he’s about to slam into the recording studio.  Behind him, Moxxie gives no shits

Blitzø looking miffed, maybe at something Moxxie said.  Looks like the same scene with the repo-hound, as the setting itself looks like an impound lot, with the IMP van smack-dab in the middle of it.  I love that the license plate is IMP-666 though

Unhappy Blitzø (ok, let’s be honest, when IS he happy?)

Moxxie swinging Millie around in the deserted theater, passionately frenching each other

Blitzø getting pushed down by a horned, high-heeled... someone.  Again, might be the pop star from earlier, but there’s horns...  Maybe the pop star is human-passing, and has an alternate demonic form, like the Hazbin Hotel cast?

Western-clad Blitzø pulling his flintlock on someone, most likely before scene 18.  Most definitely Hell, judging by the poster and previous scenes, but I’m digging the décor

Blitzø not getting a break at all during this trailer and being yeeted into a dumpster, which closes on him.  Gonna take a stab and say it’s outside the burlesque Stolas and Moxxie were in, from the colors and posters of Lust Ring, Personal Companion Robo-Fizz, and Angel Dust.

The next scene is of him climbing out of a dumpster to fall into another pile of trash.  He just doesn’t get a break, does he?  It doesn’t look like the dumpster outside the burlesque, but it is similar to the alley with the hell portal, where Blitzø pinned Moxxie.  Maybe not the same scene, but most likely same episode.

Editor being absolutely plastered, teasing all the fun stuff to come in 2021, since 2020 can go f*ck itself.

And that’s a really in-depth breakdown of all the scenes in the trailer!  Now, for the voiceovers.

First, Loona’s asking if anyone ‘Can feel that?’.  Interesting thing to ask, so we’ll have to wait and see what catastrophe happens

Millie gently yelling at Moxxie to ‘DON’T PANIC’

A calm voice announcing an elevator’s departure to the Lust circle of Hell, which is most likely where the burlesque and Robo scenes are.  As to who is going, it’s either Stolas or the IMP crew, or maybe both?

Horny Stolas cooing ‘Oh, Blitzy!’, followed by Loona’s ‘SHUT THE F*CK UP’ from the Loo Loo Land episode.  Finally, I have a high-res clip I can set as my ringtone!

Blitzø yelling  ‘Dammit, Moxxie, this is all your fault!’, which may or may not be true since he scapegoats Moxxie, who replies ‘How is this my fault???’

Pop star asking, ‘Y’all ready to get f*cked up and make some b*tchin’ bad choices?’.  It’s most likely her talking, since the her lips synch up with her scene, and it’s a new voice we haven’t heard before.

Moxxie’s cut off ‘M*THERF*CKER!!!’.  So happy I get to hear Invader Zim go off, poor boy needs it XD

Blitzø being Blitzø and trying to tone down a big deal, stating again that he doesn’t pry into their personal lives, even though he obvious does (see Helluva Boss Pilot for more)

Robo Fizz’s line from Loo Loo Land asking if anybody loved Blitzø.  I’m gonna be honest and say that line choked me up in Loo Loo Land, and so did Blitzø’s response, until ‘But I’m really good with guns now.  DANCE, B*TCH!’

Moxxie ending with ‘That is deeply unsettling’, again from Loo Loo Land.  Throwing shade on Helluva Boss haters, maybe? :3

All right, now, predictions!

Chaos in a theater, with focus maybe on Millie and Moxxie’s relationship, maybe an origin story?  It won’t be the only one, with the tentacle beach monster and drugged Moxxie bits, so we can expect a lot of story and character development from the two of them.

Farm episode!  Blitzø either drags them onto a farm, or there’s a client who invites them, but sh*t will happen.

Really excited to see what happens in the Lust ring, and for the return of Robo Fizz!  Baby boy only got a few minutes of screen time, but is currently my favorite character.

Repo episode of rescuing the IMP van, probably resulting in overall team building and character development.  I really want to see Loona tear a new one into that *sshole-looking hellhound, though.

Pop star episode!  Really excited to meet this new character, I wonder what her name is and how close I was XD  Either Blitzø and Moxxie break into her recording studio to meet her, or she’s a client, but we’ll see!

Trapped on Earth/Run in with Earth authorities episode?  That interrogation room didn’t exactly look Hellish, and they obvious meet some kind of resistance while on Earth that looked like it was gonna get messy...

Stolas episode!  Please please please be flashback and story, I loved Loo Loo Land but really want some more lore and development on his character and maybe relationship with Blitzø.  Bird obviously needs to work through some things, and I really want to watch him grow, ever since I saw him struggle to tell Octavia why he was cheating.  Him stuttering and ultimately being unable to find a reason why really hit home, and I’m glad it was something they included since in media, it’s always ‘Well, she’s really ugly’ or ‘I don’t love him anymore’.  He still has feelings for his wife, but wanted to f*ck Blitzø too.

Even without the trailer, we do know that we’re getting episodes focusing on CHERUB and a Harvest Moon festival, but still.  There’s so much content Vivzie and Co have been working hard to make, and I can’t wait to see what they have in store for us.  Dark comedy aside, there’s so much story they can make just around these four characters, following their growth and happenings around Hell.  It’s such a cool premise and one that hasn’t been washed and worn so many times, like cop or murder shows, and I can see this going on for quite a bit.

Well, here’s to an exciting 2021!  Thank you for all your hard work, Vivizepop, keep it up!

[liliesoftherain]

Not Stories After All

A/N: Someone in my server wanted a mermaid au and this was born!! Wanted it to share it with all of you! Sometimes I share stories there first, or make plans and new fics according to what we all talk about! If you wanna join in on the fun, click here and come have some fun with MHA & Readers!

 https://discord.gg/AWpjVFa 

Anyways, enjoy! More to come soon!

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

The breeze fluttered by, as soft and gentle as a mother’s whisper. Bright green eyes held captive to the beauty of the rippling waves and the orange glow of the rising sun, painting the water below in its hue. A salty mist was spraying onto his feet, over and over again as the cycle of foam crept close only to disappear before returning. He didn’t mind the onslaught, thoroughly enjoying the wonder of the sea before him. 

The island he was visiting was one of no importance, one of the less talked about places, yet it was the most beautiful he had ever seen. The lush tropics behind him came forth from the bases of large mountains, which then stretched along to the shores of serene beaches.The townsfolk were kind and welcoming, providing him with more hospitable care than he thought possible.

He had been given access to many parts of their homeland so he may complete the research necessary for his studies, one of these areas a more secluded cove surrounded by boulders and cliffsides, caging the area in to hide it’s wonders. And what a wonder it was indeed, the water was as clear as crystal, abundance of fish and colored coral alike could be seen just below the surface, moving along with the peaceful current. The fine grains of sand felt soft and warm beneath his bare feet, not like most areas where the coarseness would cause discomfort as it lodged between his toes. 

Izuku inhaled slowly, taking in the sting of salt and overall freshness, before grinning. He rolled up the ends of his pant legs, wadding in the pleasant water towards a particular large rock in the middle. His precautions hadn’t worked, the water dropping very steep at point had caused him to be engulfed by the tranquil blue to his chest, having to pull himself up and out onto the rock.

He looked past the calm sapphire, towards the open waters that connected the two areas, to see a deeper azure and felt peace enter his being. 

“Absolutely beautiful.” He whispered to himself, taking out a bag from the inside of his coat pocket.

Opening the waterproof bag, Izuku pulled out a pencil and small sketchbook, opening the book to a blank page. The sounds of the wildlife, waves, and the scratching of lead to paper were the only things that could be heard, and it was enough to pull Izuku into a trance. 

He knew he had spent his entire morning drawn in with his work, as when he finally came to-after a few dozen pages later-the sun was now set high in the sky. The orange glow that once painted the area was now bright and clear, the waters reflecting the bright sunlight and made it blinding to look at directly for too long. Izuku was growing warm now, even with the breeze it wasn’t enough to provide relief from the pounding sun. 

Removing his jacket, Izuku stood to stretch out the aches in his joints, letting out a groan of relief once he did. However, he miscalculated how small the rock he was occupying was, and missed it completely when he took a step back. As his foot missed the top, Izuku let out a yelp while falling back, breaking the surface of the water. The air left his lungs, and bubbles from the disturbance clouded his vision as they all rose around him. 

The sea of fish quickly darted away from his intrusion, not enjoying the startle they had received. Izuku was sinking slowly, gravity playing it’s part as it dragged him lower before steadying him out as the water caught him. The back of the rock, closer towards the open sea, was a lot deeper than the shore he entered from. 

Once the bubbles cleared he was able to see, the wonders up close. Slowly the fish returned, circling around him and Izuku made no effort to swim towards the surface. A school swam by his face, and he followed them with his eyes, even though the water caused his vision to blur he wouldn’t pass the opportunity to view all of this. Looking upwards, the rays of light stunningly cut through the water even this far down, illuminating the world below in a heavenly soft light. 

Then he felt a strange type of feeling, as if he were being lifted up back towards the surface. A force of some sort was pushing him up until he broke through the water, greedily taking in the air he so deprived himself of. He moved his legs and arms to keep himself afloat, staring down into the water, confused as to what pushed him up like that. It was faster and more extreme than floating upwards, way too fast. 

Izuku took a deep breath before diving back down, swimming farther below as he glanced around. Once again, the water in his eyes stung and were blurred, but overall he was too focused to care. He swam farther down and out towards the open, hoping to see something, what he wasn’t sure. 

The glimmer of something bright in the darker water caught his attention, and he turned his head to see a long and scaled tail of sorts swim behind a rock. He was confused, that wasn’t a small fish. Plus, in this cove ecosystem most life forms were tiny due to the amount of food production. 

A part of Izuku wanted to quickly swim away, something that large could eat him or hurt him, but another part wanted to swim closer. He listened to his not-so rational side and moved closer, feeling his heart pounding as he reached the other rock. Putting shaky hands onto the side, he glanced behind to see nothing. Feeling bewildered, he moved his head side to side to see if he could spot whatever that had caught his attention

His lungs were starting to burn, so giving up, Izuku went to swim up when a feather light touch made him freeze. This wasn’t the touch of seaweed, or the passing of a fish getting too close, no this felt way too warm and soft to be any of those. Looking behind him, his gaze cut through the clear blue to spot a face staring back at him. 

Izuku screamed, the last remaining breath now escaping to the surface as he thrashed and tried to follow suit. He inhaled water in his surprise, causing his head to spin and his vision to cloud further. He didn’t know which way he was swimming, he just knew he needed to move. Once again, that feeling of being forced up had caught him once more, and the next thing he knew he was on the rock. 

Coughing and sputtering all the water he had inhaled, he let out a shaky cry once the water rippled around a spot and a head popped from the water. 

“Wh-what are you!” Izuku had tried to put as much distance as he could between himself and the thing, but he was stuck. The rock wasn’t very large, and there’s no way he could get back to shore before it did. He didn’t even care how he was lifted onto the rock, just grateful he wasn’t in the water with it anymore.

The head dived below once more, and Izuku frantically looked around the rock to figure out where it was going. He saw bright scales catch the light's reflection as it swam to the more shallow side of his rock, in turn allowing him to see more exactly of what it was.

It was swimming below the glass surface, the top body of a human such as him while holding the tail of a fish. The brightest shade of teals, aquas, and turquoise he had ever seen shimmered back at him through the scales, matching the waters surrounding, but at the same time standing out in the most brilliant of ways. Down at the end of the tail, is where Izuku’s breath was really taken when he saw a rose-tail, fine in a multitude of cerulean's and emeralds. The way it was dancing gracefully in the water was mesmerizing, and he couldn’t help but stare. 

A chirping noise caught his attention as he was drawn to their face again, being freaked out earlier he wasn’t directly looking at them, just through. But now, as they were out of the water up to their shoulders he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. This creature was bewitching, and Izuku swore he was staring at the face of an angel. 

The droplets of water fell from their face, falling back into the endless pool of sapphires. Their bright (e/c) eyes bore straight into his soul, as if they were reading into his entire life story. Their lips parted, another whimsical coo came forth and he felt his entire body shudder from the sound. He was enchanted by the vision before him, such a beauty that he had only heard in tales of fiction and stories for children.

“Wh..what are you..?” He repeated, much calmer this time around. 

He watched as they tilted their head, as if trying to understand him, before they gripped onto the rock. Instead of moving back, Izuku stayed put, allowing himself to come face-to-face with the creature as they pulled themselves up with help from the rock. Not all the way on top of it, but just enough to allow more of their body to come forth from the water. To see the top of their scales, by what he assumed was their waste was, kissing the surface of the water.

“Name.. (y/n).” The words dripped from their lips like honey and Izuku was tempted to taste the sweetness.

“You can, uh, speak?”

“Yes.. Speak.” Their nose crinkled, as if struggling to form the words. 

“I’m- My name.. Izuku.” He licked lips in nervous habit, tasting more salt that lingered.

How he wished it was honey instead.

Once more they cooed, the echoing of their hypnotizing vocals circled the cove and back to him. He was unsure of what to do, of what to say. What was there to do, there was no research, no factual source of information given that tells you how to deal with a real life Mermaid. 

Although, Izuku does remember the lore of the village folk, of their deities and protections that live within the lands. One of them being the spirit of the sea, their looks worth more than any gold-but if you dare poach them you shall be in eternal suffering, and their compassion larger and higher than any bird or cloud could reach. They protected the waters and those who resided in and beside them, they were there to act as guides. To show the wandering the correct path. 

 There were many stories, stories of how this spirit calmed the waves to allow children to swim in safety. Stories of a savior, kissing existence back into sailors who had fallen into the trap of the angry storm below. Stories of life, stories of sacrifice, and protection, and love.

But looking down at this spellbinding giver, he knew they weren’t just stories after all.

[javajunkieao3]

Reylo Fanfic: The Space Between

Summary:  Rey travels to the world between worlds to save Ben Solo.

          Rey awoke from a sound sleep, her body cold despite the sweat that dotted her hairline.  She was breathing heavily, her nervous system still not quite recovered from the dream.  It was the same vision that visited her almost every night for a over a month.  Except it wasn’t a vision – not really. It was a voice.  Faint at first, almost a whisper, until it blared in her ear, anguished cries for help pushing her forcefully into the waking world.

           It was him.  It was always him.  At first, she told herself that it was only a dream, her subconscious chewing on unresolved feelings of which she would not allow her conscious self to dwell.   He wouldn’t have wanted that.  In the moments after she awoke, her mind always drifted to his face and that rare grin.  It was the visage of a man who was content with the path he chose, and she owed it to him to continue on hers.

           But then the dreams had grown more frequent. More insistent.  After the second straight week, she began to wonder if something had gone horribly wrong.  After the third week, she started looking for answers.  

The problem was that she didn’t know what she was looking for.  Rey’s prior life as a scavenger hadn’t exactly given her a primer on the afterlife, and her brief Jedi training did not offer much illumination on the subject, either.  She asked Finn and Poe, but backed off when their questions became too prodding.  To their credit, both asked valid questions, but she couldn’t answer them.  Neither knew about the force-bond between her and Ben, nor that Ben had been very likely visiting her in dreams for weeks.  

           Alone in her room, Rey pled for some higher force – namely one of her two Jedi masters - to enlighten her.  There had to be something she was missing.  Dimly in the back of her mind, she heard her grandfather’s decaying voice.

      ��    Die together!

           Maybe they should have died together.  An eerie calm befell her at the thought, but then a loud crashing noise pulled her to attention.  She glanced over to the side.  A sturdy glass jug had fallen over on top of her dresser, knocking the front drawer slightly ajar.  She walked over and laid her hand on the drawer to push it back into place.  She could just see the dusty spines of the Jedi manuscripts inside.  She began to push the drawer closed but then paused, bringing her hand up to instead grasp the thick wooden lip and pull the drawer out.

           She ran her fingertips along the spines of the books and pulled one out from the back.  It was one of the older texts that she barely touched during her training.  She remembered it held mostly stories.  Jedi lore that was passed down through the generations to inspire rather than guide.  What could possibly be useful in there?  She began to place the book back into the drawer when she heard his voice.

           “Rey.”

           It was the first time she had ever heard it while she was awake and it startled her enough that she dropped the book messily on the ground.  It had opened up on the ground and when she picked it up she glanced at the pages where it opened.

           “The world between worlds,” she read aloud, her heartbeat quickening as she read further.  According to the text, it was a collection of pathways between time and space where any moment in time could be visited.  The story involved a young Jedi visiting one such world found behind an ancient painting at a Jedi Temple on the planet Lothal.  The young Jedi saved a fallen comrade by utilizing one of the pathways.  Rey wondered if it was all true, but the prickling on her skin provided the answer.  

           She closed the book and murmured, “Thank you.”

           The texts read that a master and apprentice using the Force together was required to enter the temple.  Rey saw several issues with that requirement, but decided to use what she had, and enlisted Finn to join her.  He naturally had questions but she asked that he trust her and he grudgingly agreed.    Rey planned to leave that evening to draw less suspicious from the others who likely would not have been too keen on her resurrecting Kylo Ren.  While she told them of his redemption, no one else had witnessed it, and she could sense the hesitance in their acceptance.  She quietly made her way to one of the older Starfighters, knowing it wouldn’t be missed during its absence.  She heard someone approaching, and thought it was Finn.  Instead it was Poe Dameron.  He looked somewhat bemused at her clearly about to take off with one of the ships and asked, “What’s going on here?  And why in the world are you taking that piece of junk?”

           “What’s wrong with it?” she asked, interest piqued despite her otherwise overwhelming desire to be on her way.  

           “It can barely handle a time jump.”  He studied her face and said, “I’m guessing wherever you’re going you’ll need some of those.”

           Rey nodded reluctantly.

           “Okay then, I’d recommend that one,” he said, pointing at a ship a few feet down.  “And you’re just so lucky that it comes with me as its pilot.”

           “Poe-“

           “Look, I can see you’re up to something and that usually doesn’t bode very well.”  He saw her eyes flash and quickly added, “Not by any fault of yours.  But I’m guessing that whatever you’re about to do wouldn’t be jeopardized by one more person.”

           “Rey?” a third voice asked.

           “Okay, two more people,” Poe amended as Finn approached.  Rey shot him a look and he said, “I don’t really see how we can not take him now.”

           “He’s the one I actually asked to meet me,” Rey hissed in a low voice.

           “You asked him and not me?”

           “Look, I don’t really want to take eitherof you,” Rey said distractedly.  Her nerves were pulled tight already given that she had no idea if any of this would work, and adding two people to the mix was not exactly part of her plan, but they were wasting time arguing.  “Do you promise not to interfere?”

           “That depends on what you’re doing,” Poe said warily.

           “Do you trust me?”

           “Is that all we’re going to get?”

           “That’s all I can give you right now,” she said, voice weak.  “So again, do you trust me?”

           Poe’s jaw tightened, but then he nodded.  She looked to Finn for confirmation, and he nodded, too.  

           Rey took a deep breath.  “Then I need you both to trust me on this.  Please.”

           Her voice became uncharacteristically fraught on the last word, and the two men exchanged a look before they nodded, and Poe said, “Come on, let’s go.”

           They boarded the ship and Poe asked, “Where are we headed?”

           “Lothal.”

           He looked back in surprise and said, “Lothal? That planet’s been deserted for centuries.”  When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Do you have some coordinates for me?”

           Rey rattled them off by memory.  They had come to her back in her room as she put the old text away, the coordinates settling in her mind as naturally as an old nursery rhyme.

           “What’s in Lothal?” Finn asked.

           “A Jedi temple.”

           As the cruiser lifted off the ground, Poe muttered, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

           To Rey’s relief, the coordinates were correct, and they landed in front of a large and imposing rock structure.  Poe tipped his head almost all the way back to see the full expanse of the construct, and when he brought his gaze back to mid-level, Rey was already halfway toward the large rock.

           “Rey, are you sure this is what you were looking for? It just looks like a big rock to me.”

           “No, it’s the temple.  I can feel it,” she said, laying her hand on the cool rock. She could feel energy flow beneath her hand like water in a river.

           “I feel it, too,” Finn said, stepping forward. “I’ve never felt anything this strong before.”

           “I don’t know, I still feeling nothing,” Poe said, scratching the side of his neck.

           Rey gestured for Finn to join her and he laid his hand on the rock beside hers.  He felt the same current of energy under his hand.  He looked over at Rey and saw her gaze fixed on the rock.

           “Rey?”

           “We need to move this.”

           “The rock,” he said dubiously.  “You can’t be serious.”

           “It’s the only way,” she said.  “That’s why I brought you here.  We need to work together.”

           “How can we possibly lift this?” Finn said, not understanding.

           “The Force,” Rey said.  “That’s why I brought you here.  You told me that you’re Force-sensitive.  Maybe if we work together…”

           “Hold on, maybe this place is so heavily guarded for a reason,” Poe said, walking forward.  “It’s clearly designed to keep people out.”

           “We’ve been to a lot of places trying to keep people out,” Rey pointed out.

           “Yeah, and that usually ends with us getting shot at. What is in there that you want so badly?”

           “We don’t have time for this,” she said. “Finn, come on.  Put your hand back on the rock.”

           “No,” Finn said warily.  “Poe’s right.  What’s in there?”

           Rey looked between the two men, her breathing growing faster, and seeing no other option, she admitted, “It’s a place called the world between worlds.  I’m here to bring Ben back.”

           “You’re what?”  Poe said loudly.

           “This is going to sound impossible, but I can feel him.”

           “Ben Solo is dead.  You said yourself that you saw his body disappear,” Finn said.

           “I know and I did.  His body disappeared, but his soul…I can still feel him and he is in agony.  He died because of me.  I have to try to help.”

           “By bringing him back?”  Poe asked.  “This is not a good idea.  I know you thought you saw good in him, but his track record doesn’t exactly speak to that. He killed a lot of people.  In fact, he tried to kill you.  Repeatedly.”

           “He changed.”

           “Why?  Because he saved you?  How do you know it wasn’t all part of the plan?”

           Rey shook her head, her muscles tight and jittery. She never shared the details of how exactly she returned from Exogol alive.  She just told everyone that Ben Solo came to help her defeat Emperor Palpatine and died protecting her.  She supposed that she liked having something just between herself and Ben.  It was a private memory, and ultimately, did those details matter?  She didn’t believe so before, but now she saw they were necessary.

           “On Exogol, I killed Emperor Palpatine alone,” Rey said slowly.

           “I thought you fought him together,” Finn said with confusion.

            “We did, but he was thrown off a cliff.  I thought he died.  I took on Palpatine alone and killed him.  But it was too much for me.  When Ben found me…I was already dead.  He transferred his life force to me in order to bring me back.”    

           “Why would he do that?”  Poe asked, still not quite understanding.

           Rey held his gaze and said, “Because he is a good man.”

           A look of understanding passed between Rey and Poe, and Finn said, “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to lift this rock, but I’ll try with you.”

           Rey nodded, blinking away tears as she stepped back beside him.  She counseled him as Luke Skywalker did with her before.  To reach out with his feelings.  Let everything else drop away.  Nothing happened at first, but she was determined.  Within those walls was a chance to bring Ben back.  They were getting inside.  To her relief, she could feel the rock begin to shift and she focused all of her energy toward that task, blocking out all else until she felt a gust of wind on her face.  When her eyes opened, she was looking into the temple.

           She walked inside, hurriedly looking for the ancient painting she read about.  Below it, there was a simple door.  Rey held no illusions for what was behind that door, nor the risks she may endure, and she told her companions, “I don’t really know what’s in here.  It may be dangerous.”

           “Danger has never scared me off before,” Poe said. “What about you, Finn?”

           Finn shook his head and Rey smiled slightly before opening the door.  She walked into a dimly lit corridor with doors lining each side.  Each door had a window that offered a glimpse of what it held. She could hear noise coming from behind each door.  The screech of a horn.  A loud clatter followed by a children’s laugh.

           “How will you know where to find him?”  Finn asked.

           “I don’t,” Rey said, looking around.  “But I’m hoping I will.”

           As if on cue, Rey felt a strong pull toward a certain door.  She willingly approached, bracing her hand on the doorknob as she peered in through the window.  Surprisingly, though, she only saw a young couple, no more than twenty or so years of age. The woman was pregnant, bracing her back as the man rushed to bring her a chair.  She sat down and lifted her face up for a kiss, the man dropping his mouth to hers.  Rey had never seen the pair before, but she knew them immediately.

           “Who are they?”  Finn asked.

           “My parents.”

           Both men knew the mystery of her parentage, and exchanged a look when Rey pulled herself from the door and said, “We should keep looking.”

           The corridor felt endless with door after door holding countless memories.  She didn’t feel anything and was beginning to lose some faith when she stopped suddenly and turned toward a door.  Without looking through the window, she knew she found the correct door.  She walked over slowly and peered through the window, watching herself battle Emperor Palpatine and collapse.  She hadn’t seen herself dead before, but it wasn’t exactly a reassuring sight.

           “You’re going to let him save you first, right?” Poe asked beside her.

           “Yes,” she echoed, watching Ben drag himself toward her before gathering her in his arms.  It was a remarkably intimate tableau and she couldn’t look away.  Ben pulled her close, pressing his face into her neck, and then he pulled away, slowly placing his hand on her waist.  She watched his face shift from despair to concentration as he brought her back to life.  When Rey saw the other her begin to move her fingers she opened the door, using the Force to move herself aside and pull a weakened Ben through the doorway. Even in his diminished state he fought, delirious and unsure if he had successfully revived her.

           “What did you do?” he cried, turning back toward the door without seeing her.  “I need to save her.  I have to save her.”

           “You did,” she said, trying desperately to distract him from the door.  She could feel how close to death he was and she didn’t know if she would be able to undo such a thing where they were.  She scooted around him to block the doorway and took a hold of his face, forcing him to look at her.

           “You did save her,” she said.  “You saved me, Ben.  See?  I’m here. You saved me.”

           “Rey?”

           She nodded, blinking back tears, and said, “You saved me, Ben.  But now I need you to let me save you, okay?”

           She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of his warm skin beneath her hands.  His breath tickled her face with each exhale.  Slowly, she could feel the energy seeping through her fingertips. Ben could, too, and immediately pulled away.

           “What are you doing?”

           “I’m saving you,” she said, reaching out toward him again.  But he dodged her touch and said, “I know what you’re doing.  I won’t let you.”

           “It really isn’t your choice, is it?”

           “You can’t give me your life force.  You could die again.”

           “And if I don’t youare going to die again,” Rey said desperately.  “Ben, we don’t have a lot of time.  Just, please let me do this.”

           He didn’t respond and Rey did the only thing she could think of in the moment.  She leaned in quickly and kissed him, taking advantage of his surprise and threading her fingers in his hair to keep his mouth against hers.  She could feel the energy flowing through her and into him.  After a few moments she pulled away, placing one final soft kiss against his mouth.

           “How do you feel?” she asked softly.

           And then he grinned. Their grin.  Of course, he didn’t know it yet, but she had dreamt about that grin for months.  He pulled her into his arms and she murmured, “You better not disappear on me now.”

           “I won’t.”

           It took longer than expected to leave the world between worlds, but they exited the temple just as the morning sun was rising. She helped Poe ready the ship for its journey, the latter watching her quietly.  After a long silence, he casually said, “You love him, don’t you?”

           She hadn’t thought of it in those terms before but they rang true.  Instead of answering, though, she patted the nose of the spacecraft and said, “I think we’re good to go.”

Disclaimer:  This is my first Star Wars fanfic.  So any invariable mistakes are all mine.

[adverb-slut]

Breakpoint (Fanfiction) Part 2/6 | Beelzebub

Sorry for posting this late, guys!  As you all know, this is a six-part story (only parts one through three are written so far) and focuses on each of the brothers (Satan being the exception since he was never an angel) breaking point in when they decided to rebel against their Father when they were angels up in the Celestial Realm.  

This specific chapter features Beelzebub and Lilith!

As always, you can read this story here on AO3.

Title:

Breakpoint

Summary:

These are the tales of when Belphegor, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Mammon, and Lucifer each decided to actively rebel against their Father and together incite the Great Celestial War.  

Genre:

Backstory/Lore

Rating:

T

Word Count:

3424

Additional Note:

This chapter chronicles the breaking point of Beelzebub!

Previous Chapter:

Read Chapter 1 | Belphegor here!

-

“Beel! ” Belphie’s eyes were steeped with betrayal.  “You said you’d come for me.  Where are you?”  

Beelzebub watched as his twin’s form disintegrated before his very eyes and reached toward him.  “I did, Belphie —I just couldn’t—”

“I’ve been waiting two years, Beel!" Belphie cried, more and more of his body disappearing into nothingness.  “ Two years!  We agreed to three weeks!  Are you even going to come for me at all? ”

“I’m coming, Belphie!” Beelzebub screamed, bolting out of bed and reaching forward as if to grab his missing brother’s hand.  His fingertips grasped nothing but air. He shivered, realizing it was just a dream—a dream that he’d had every day for the past two years.  

Two years.  That’s how long it had been since Beelzebub had seen his younger brother.  Two years since he’d left him on Earth, promising to come back at sunset three weeks later.  Two years since he’d gone to look for his brother after the three weeks were up, only to realize that Belphegor had moved around so much on Earth and was no longer in the same village that he’d left him.  Two years during which Beelzebub had spent every single waking moment of his eternal life when he wasn’t guarding Eden to look for his only brother in every human-inhabited region of Earth, forgoing most of his meals and sleep and taking only a few moments every night after searching to rest. 

He stared at the space next to him on his king-size bed where two years ago, Belphie would have slept and sighed.  He rubbed his eyes groggily—getting only ten minutes of sleep every night caused him to be perpetually tired—and looked at the golden clock that rested on his bedside table.  It read that it was dawn; the Guardians of Eden on the night shift would be almost done standing sentinel over the Garden by now. That meant it was almost time for him to get to work.

Beelzebub’s stomach growled in protest as he changed out of his sleeping tunic and into the pearly white robes and green sash that were his standard uniform.  His meal times had varied greatly in the two years that he had spent scouting the Earth for his brother. He could only afford to waste a few precious seconds on eating quick meals, none of which sustained him for very long.  

And today, since it was already so close to the time for his shift to start, he didn’t want to waste even a moment by grabbing something to eat. 

He raced toward the precipice of the Celestial Realm and launched himself off.  As soon as his feet left the cloud cover that made up the ground, he flapped his wings downward and began his descent toward the surface of Earth.

This trip always chilled Beelzebub to his very bones.  He could almost feel his hands curl underneath his brother’s arms as the two made their way to Earth—him to go guard Eden, and Belphie to go observe and interact with humans. 

He flew downward for a few moments before his feet touched the ground.  He walked north for several feet before he saw the silhouette of tall, imposing fruit trees and the other plants that made of the flora of the Garden of Eden.  

“Beelzebub!”  Adoniel greeted from the Garden’s entrance.  “You’re right on time.”

Chasan, the other angel on duty, saluted him.  “Good to see you.”  

“You, too,” Beelzebub replied.  “You guys can go; I’ll take it from here.”

As the two nighttime Guardians of Eden began to take their leave, Beelzebub glanced at the sky, searching for Tabris, the angel with whom he had shared the morning shift with for as long as the Garden of Eden had needed guarding.  Usually, Tabris arrived earlier than him, but today, he was nowhere to be seen.

Figuring the other angel had overslept, Beelzebub walked over to the entrance and stood erect, scanning the area in front of him for any intruders, as he always did.  

Several minutes passed by, and there was still no sight of Tabris.  Beelzebub began to worry; if his Father found out about his partner’s tardiness, there would be no doubt that he would be punished severely.  His Father wasn’t known for physically abusing His children for minor infractions like lateness, but the incensed lectures He gave were even worse than even the most abrasive whippings.  

As Beelzebub decided that today he would just have to do the work of two guards, he heard the sound of wings flapping.  He glanced at the sky, expecting to see Tabris, but instead, saw the figure of a female angel.

This angel was exceedingly beautiful, with long hair that cascaded down her back and features so fine that he had to wonder exactly how long his Father had spent fashioning her.  One thing, he noticed in particular, was her wings: they were massive and feathered, covered in jewels and various precious gemstones.  They were far too heavy to be of any practical use.  He figured that they were just ornamental.  He deduced that she must not be an angel that was usually sent down to Earth, else she would have been given functional wings, or none at all.

The woman angel caught him staring and blushed, tucking her wings behind her.  “Yeah, I wasn’t created to leave the Celestial Realm, much.” She fingered the gaudy feathers that adorned her back.  “They’re just supposed to look pretty.”

He then realized that she appeared familiar.  “Wait—you’re one of the Seraphim, aren’t you?”  No wonder she didn’t venture out of the Celestial Realm.  The seraphim were the most powerful angels—even more so than most Archangels—with beautiful voices.  They sat directly at the Throne of the Almighty, singing his praises day after day. 

“Yes, my name is Lilith.”  She reached out her hand, and he shook it.  “I’ve been assigned to be your fellow Guardian of Eden today.”

Beelzebub did a double-take.  Why in the world would God assign a mighty Seraph to do a menial guard job?  “What do you mean?” He looked around.  “What about Tabris?” When he saw the confused look on Lilith’s face, he elaborated, “He and I have been the morning guards of Eden for as long as I can remember.”

“You didn’t hear?  Tabris broke one of his wings yesterday.  He’s on bed rest for the next few days,” replied Lilith.

Huh.  Beelzebub hadn’t heard anything about his partner’s injury, but then again, he had been on full Belphie-searching mode, so he hadn’t had much time to pay attention to anything else.  He felt a twinge of guilt creep up but tried to focus on the matter at hand. “Ah, okay, but why you as his replacement?  You’re a Seraph—surely your worship is more important than this.”

Lilith blushed and wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “Well, I’m currently suspended.”

“What?  Why?” he asked, his eyes widening.  Seraphim were wildly devoted to their Father.  He couldn’t imagine one doing something to upset their Father so much that he would suspend them.

She took a deep breath and her blush deepened.  “Well, yesterday, my sisters and I were worshipping at the Throne, as usual, when I realized that one of the rhythms to the hymns that we were singing was written really off.  I first thought that maybe it was our fault and we were singing it wrong, but I checked and it was just written strangely.  So, I went to go take the music earlier today to Leviathan—you know, the Angel of Worship.”

Beelzebub could see where this story was going.  The Angel of Worship’s antics when it came to critiques of his praise songs were well-known.  “And he got angry with your comments, then went directly to Father, made it sound worse than it was, and got you in trouble,” he finished for her.  “Leviathan will do anything to make an excuse to go see Father directly.”

“He’s such a kiss-up, sometimes.”  Lilith shook her head and pulled out two spiced manna cakes from her orange sash.  

He couldn’t help but watch her unpeel the wrapper from the two cinnamon-and-clove flavored biscuits, his stomach growling loudly.  He blushed.

Lilith smiled and reached out her hand, offering him a cake.  “Want one?”

Beelzebub grabbed it, smiling and deciding that he definitely liked this angel.  The cakes were incredibly dry and were meant to be eaten soaked in milk and honey, but he was so hungry that he couldn’t care less and took a bite of the crumbly biscuit.  

“Sorry,” he apologized, his mouth filled with manna.  “I don’t get many chances to eat.”

She put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.  “I heard about your brother—everyone has. I mean, he’s the Angel of the Sabbath.  Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find him soon.”

Beelzebub sighed, suddenly not so hungry, but swallowing the rest of the cake, anyway.  “I hope so.”

Lilith noticed the change in his demeanor and poked him in the chest.  “You’re Beelzebub, right? You’re supposed to be one of the best guardians ever—teach me your ways!”

A hint of a smile curled on his face.  He could see that she was just trying to take his mind off of Belphie.  “Being a Guardian of Eden isn’t so hard. Our goal is to keep humans away from the Garden, but even more so, away from the Tree of Life in the middle.”  He pointed east from where they were standing, in the direction of the Tree. “The fruit from that Tree has the power to heal any kind of ailment—including the effects of old age.”

“I thought it was supposed to make humans immortal and to heal angels’ diseases.”

“The angel part is true but not the human one—that’s just a rumor we spread to deter them from trying to find it, considering some humans are content and relieved with their mortality.  The real power is that every time a human or angel consumes one, it cures them of whatever sickness they’re currently suffering from, even if it’s just the aches and pains that come with being old.”

“I got you.  Well, that sounds easy enough, Beel.”

Beelzebub swallowed at the nickname; it was something only Belphie had called him, but he was surprised that it sounded right coming from her lips, too.  “It is.”

They stood side by side, guarding Eden for several hours.  It was almost sunset, and Beel wanted to get a head start on searching for Belphie.  But, before he could say anything to Lilith, he noticed a figure coming up over the horizon, hunched over and carrying what appeared to be a person.

“Who’s that?”  Lilith asked.

Beelzebub readjusted his stance and frowned.  “An intruder.”

And he was right.  Ambling up to them was an emaciated man, his tattered loincloth dirty and covered in what looked like dried bloodstains.  In his arms was a young girl, her unwashed hair plaited, looking just as worse for wear as the man carrying her.

“Please,” the man pleaded, walking up to Beel, who looked on ahead of him stoically.  “My daughter—she’s very ill.”

A pang of guilt shot through Beel’s heart, but he had seen cases like this all the time.  And as usual, he knew he had to turn them away. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Oh, my goodness,” Lilith cried, rushing to the man’s side, taking the young girl out of his hands and cradling her herself.  Her eyes widened and filled with pity. “What happened?”

“Our camp was raided by another’s several weeks ago, and we have no food.  Yesterday, our chief’s wife found some herbs to eat, but when my daughter consumed them, she grew very sick, and she hasn’t woken up since, even though she is still breathing,” the man explained, his eyes filling with tears.  “Several moons ago, an angel visited us and told us that my daughter would be the savior of our camp, but if she does not survive, I fear that we will be left defenseless.”

Beel’s heart skipped a beat when the man mentioned another angel.  “What did the angel look like? Did he have black and white hair? With eyes like mine?  No wings?”

“No, no,” the man said, pausing to analyze Beel’s eyes.  “He had tan skin, with white hair and dark blue eyes, tinted with gold. He also definitely had wings.”

Beel could feel his heart drop.  He didn’t know who that Messenger Angel was.  “Well, either way,” he sighed.  “Sir, we can’t help you. You need to leave.”

Lilith glared at him as the man protested, “But sir, we need to get to the Tree of Life.  The shaman of our camp has tried everything to heal her, but nothing has worked. We know the fruit from the Tree can heal any kind of sickness.”

Beel didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that the man somehow knew the true nature of the Tree of Life and stamped his foot.  “No. No one is allowed in the Garden of Eden.”

“We can make an exception for you, though,” Lilith amended, stepping aside to let the man pass.

This time it was Beel who glared at her.  “No, we can’t.  Lilith, that’s what we’re here for: we have to make sure no one can get inside the Garden.”

“Beel!  This man is desperate.  We can’t let that little girl die—we can’t!  What kind of angels would we be if we did?”

He massaged his forehead.  “Lilith, we have our orders.  We can’t just go making exceptions for people based on how desperate they are.”

“Look at her,” Lilith argued, gesturing toward the man’s daughter.  “I don’t care what our orders are; we can’t just let this girl die on our watch.  I don’t think Father will be angry if what we’re doing saves a life.”

For someone who was supposedly so close to his Father, Lilith didn’t seem to understand that His orders were absolute and that there was no loophole that could be exploited which wouldn’t lead to severe punishment.  

Since Lilith had decided to be so adamant, Beelzebub tried a different tactic.  “Lilith, this man was told by one of our Messenger Angels that this girl would save her camp someday.  Just trust that God will heal her—you know that He doesn’t lie.”

He thought that that point would get her to calm down, but it was to no avail.  “She’s suffering now, Beel.  I can’t allow that.”  She gestured toward the man and motioned for him to enter the Garden. 

Beel shook his head in frustration.  “There’s no point in letting him in, anyway.  The Tree of Life is guarded by flaming swords.  He can’t get to it.”

The man’s face crumbled, but Lilith was quick to remedy the situation.  “I’ll do it. I’ll fly above the swords, and I’ll pick a fruit from the Tree and give it to him.”

Beel blanched.  “No. No, you won’t.”

“Yes.  I.  Will.”  And with that, Lilith raced into the Garden of Eden.

-

Three hours.  

That’s how long it had taken for all four Guardians of Eden—and one temporary one—to be summoned to his Father’s Throne Room after the young girl had taken a bite from the fruit of the Tree of Life and had been revived.  

In the future, it would take God another year to summon Belphegor for his tribunal, but it had only taken three hours for Him to call Beel for his.

Beelzebub kept his eyes down, not daring to look at his Father’s blinding, lighted presence.  He, Adoniel, Chasan, the broken-winged Tabris, and Lilith had just been instructed to rise after falling prostrate before the Throne of God.  

The three angels who had not been involved in the incident gave Beel confused looks, but he couldn’t meet their eyes.  He stared at the floor, trying to imagine he was anywhere but here. 

His Father’s Throne Room was a place of judgment, and usually, the verdict was nothing but guilty.  He tried to take his mind off his probably impending doom—surely his Father would blame him for not stopping Lilith as she flew above the flaming swords guarding the Tree of Life and picking its fruit—by listening to the glorious notes of the piano that Lucifer played from God’s left side.

The Archangel of Music’s eyes were closed, like the world was nothing more than him and his music, as his fingers deliberately played the solemn notes of a melody that he had created.  Lucifer never played any song twice, and he used no sheet music. Every song that he performed was an original piece that he made up on the spot, the notes coming so alive in his mind that they leaped out of his fingers into the most rapturous tune.  

“Beelzebub, Tabris, Adoniel, Chasan, Lilith,” boomed the Almighty.

“We are here, Father,” they chorused, bowing their heads.

“It has come to My attention that one of My Guardians has allowed a fruit to be picked from the Tree of Life.”  The glow of God’s glory receded and then flared back even brighter, signifying a spike in His anger. “Which one of you is responsible for this?”

Beelzebub knew that of course, his Father already knew who took the fruit; He was merely giving the culprit an opportunity to own up for their crime and apologize—not that it would make their punishment any less severe.

From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Lilith.  The normally upbeat Seraph had her eyes glued to the ground, a terrified look on her face.  He frowned in sympathy; facing her Father’s wrath twice in such a short period of time would be a horrifying experience—once was enough for most angels to ensure they never disobeyed again.  

And besides, it wasn’t as if Lilith had—apart from breaking orders—done anything wrong.  She had technically saved a life, just as she had mentioned before. 

Beel gulped as the silence from the five angels filled the room.  It was so suffocating that he didn’t know if Lucifer’s masterful playing was sufficient to overcome it.  He stepped forward. “I did it, Father.”

His Father’s furious light subsided in surprise.  “You, Beelzebub?”

Of course, God knew that it was not him who took the fruit.  But, Beel knew how his Father’s mind worked.  If Beel admitted to the crime, his Father would punish him for what he confessed and also punish him for lying, as well.  The Almighty still knew that Lilith had committed the crime, but Beel’s sacrifice for her would be enough to sate His anger, and she wouldn’t be punished at all.

His admission elicited shocked gasps from Adoniel, Chasan, and Tabris.  Lilith stared at him, her eyebrows downturned in agony. “No—” she began.

Beel interrupted her before she could get very far.  “—one expected this of me, right, Lilith? Well, they should have.  In fact, Father, I was not only the one who picked the fruit, but I ate it, too.”

“You ate the fruit, Beelzebub?”  his Father confirmed, even though He knew otherwise.  “You know not even angels are allowed to eat the fruit, as they can suffer ailments that can be healed, as well.”

Beelzebub gulped.  “Yes. You know I’ve spent many moons flying around Earth, searching for my twin brother, Belphegor, the Angel of the Sabbath.  In doing this, I haven’t gotten much time to eat, so in my desperation, I picked from the Tree and ate.”

“What gluttony you displayed, today, my son!  This appetite—so all-consuming that you would desecrate a sacred fruit for the pleasure of excess nourishment—this need for immediate gratification in the form of food, has caused you to disobey My orders and sin.”  The Almighty’s anger flared again. “You must be punished.”

“Yes, Father, you should punish me,” Beel replied, wringing the hem of his tunic nervously.  And punish me, and me alone, he added silently.

“This is your first offense, my son—I will make your retribution less severe, provided you understand the error of your ways.  Answer me, Beelzebub, do you regret what you did?”

Considering he hadn’t even committed any crime, Beel knew he couldn’t answer the question truthfully.  He turned his head to look at Lilith, whose eyes were overflowing with grateful tears, her hands over her mouth to drown out her sobs.  He knew that he would admit to the offense a hundred times if it meant she didn’t have to suffer for it.

So he answered the question in that context instead.

“No.”

[newandfiguringitout]

May 1st Anchor

So This is my contribution to the May writing Challenge, I hope to do them every day but bear with me. Also the only knowledge of ships and pirates comes from Pirates of the Caribbean so expect wrong terminology. I am also not the best at writing and such so don’t expect much. The keep reading thing is just to shorten it. 

Content Warning: Disassociation, bruises, kidnapped, unconventional restraints, pirates in general, dehydration, swearing

They tied him to the anchor, to the FUCKING anchor, to keep him out of the way after the second time he escaped the pirate’s brig. It had been oh so easy to pick those locks, the cheap kind with only a few tumblers, the one on the door had been even easier than the shackles. After that it had just been a matter of avoiding crew members until somebody decides - hey I'm gonna go check on that prisoner we got locked up - the bright fucker then had raised the alarm and everyone had gone on a manhunt for the stowaway. 

That was how he had ended up here, tied to the anchor, over the side of the Death’s Courage. Pretty name for a ship, especially suitable for a pirate ship.

The edge of the anchor wasn’t sharp, so he had that to be grateful for, but it dug painfully into his back in a way that was slowly driving him to the brink of madness. The whole situation was not made better by the fact that the sun existed. Well, the sun is important to everything, but it’s current presence beating down on him and blinding him, was not exactly a warm and fuzzy feeling. But it was warm and fuzzy. It was so fucking hot, and his head felt like it had been stuffed with an expensive wool. Wool that could be doing anything else, the wool could be some cape for some monarch or it could keep a sheep warm. But no, it was too busy stuffing his head. All that potential wasted on making him miserable. 

Deep down he knew his thoughts were being stupid and made no sense, but he was content to complain into his brain and let his thoughts drift. Silencing the irrational thoughts took too much effort. So he let himself drift and think of funny and stupid ways to put words together. 

Anything to distract him from the figuratively bruising headache and the literal bruising that would form in rings around his wrists and chest. He couldn’t blame the pirates for tying his hands behind the anchor before wrapping him in ropes, but damn it hurt. It wasn’t even the cut and dry hurt of a knife, it was a silent ache that screamed for attention it didn’t deserve but somehow still got.

He winced as the boat rocked and the pressure on his back increased. He’d have bruises there tomorrow, but couldn’t bring himself to care yet. He could care when he turned his brain back on. 

The pirates had the anchor lashed to the side of the ship and it rested on wooden supports where it could be pushed into the water with little effort. He tried not to think about how easy it would be for them to just shove it into the sea. It would go down fast, only stopping when it reaches the very bottom. It would drag him down and down and down until the water pressure alone would kill him.

“Havin’ fun down there?” The prisoner spared a glance up at the pirate, the man had a face, that much he could tell through bleary eyes, so he could only guess at the man’s expression.

He sent a wary glance at the sea before his eyes shot back up at the man, “The time of my life.” He had tried to cast the comment with his usual care-free tone, but had ended up betraying a smidgen of his misery. He was thirsty, hungry, his legs were cramping, headache pounding at his skull, eyes burning not to mention the thousand other pains that came with being tied to an anchor. In short, this was one of the worst brigs he’s ever been in. How long had he been out here, baked by the sun, chilled by the water and overall exhausted to the bone. 

He supposed that was the point of tying someone to an anchor. 

“Captain figured you should be fed, lest ye waste away.” He knew that sounded too good to not have a dagger hiding behind those words. But he couldn’t help the growl of his stomach at the thought of food. When was the last time he had eaten? 

The pirate disappeared behind the railing of the boat, and he had expected for them to free him so he could feed himself. But no movement came from the heavy chain and the pirate didn’t come back

He craned his neck to try and see what they intended to do to him. Just as he began to think they had been toying with him, he saw a flash of movement over the rail.

“Just a moment sir,” a young voice called, very different from the grizzled pirate he’d seen before. A small head peeked over the side of the rail and gave him a cheeky grin. The boy couldn’t have been more than twelve, the child ducked out of sight and began to climb over the rail, down toward the prisoner. A rope had been fastened around his waist and woven between his legs to make a harness of sorts, some slack had been dropped over the side and he lowered himself down using both hands. Hanging from his belt were a couple of flasks and a canteen. 

Surprised and more than a little awed, the young man watched with fascination as the boy lowered himself and tied off the slack at the top of the anchor. Then climbed down to be standing barefoot on one of the three arms of the anchor. The child had ebony skin, short, curly hair and wore a smile bigger than his over-sized tunic. He stood in a ta-da pose with his arms raised above his head and balancing on the metal. 

His expression must have looked funny, because the kid burst out laughing.

He was nearly at a loss for words, but figured he should start the conversation,“I would applaud but,” he nodded at his torso, wrapped in rope, “I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

The truly terrible pun earned him a snort from the kid who moved closer, to a more balanced place on the metal contraption. 

“Name’s Rig.” the kid reached for one of his flasks and carefully undid it from his belt, apparently unbothered by the swaying of the ship. “But you can calls me Riggs or Riggy.”

“Dalton,” the prisoner replied, eyeing the flask in the kid's hand with keen interest. 

“I brought you some water and some porridge. Porridge is more water than porridge though, had to get it to flow out of the flask you see so I put some water in there.”

Dalton tried to swallow, but it was made difficult by the dryness in his throat. The kid kept grinning and let the stopper hang off the neck of the flask, bringing it to the captive’s lips. Dalton drank the lukewarm water greedily, trying to drink away the salty taste in his mouth. Riggy pulled the water away and Dalton tried to follow it with his mouth. 

“Not so fast sir, you’ll get sick,” he said the last half as if sharing a secret, low whisper and wide eyed. The moment only lasted a few brief seconds before the kid, Riggy, broke the stoic silence with a toothy grin. “I got you some porridge too sir,” he stopped the flask and returned it to his belt where he pulled out a slightly smaller one.

“Ole’ Gin makes the best porridge, all thick and creamy, but it doesn’t pour right so I watered it down. More like broth than porridge but it’s still porridge sir.” Riggy looked up at Dalton, (despite having gangly limbs the child was short) his eyes searching for .... approval? 

Dalton glances down at the flask, hunger at the forefront of his mind. “In my books porridge is porridge, and that right there,” he nodded to the flask, “sounds like a truly splendid meal.” 

Rig giggled, a pure and innocent sound, and brought the flask to the captive’s lips. A slightly warm, and significantly diluted, almost bitter tasting sludge flowed smoothly into Dalton’s mouth. He nearly moaned with delight. It was food. Food. Not solid, and definitely not tasty, but it was food. 

Rig fed him the porridge slowly, at Dalton’s request. He didn’t want to put too much in just to have it all come right back out. During the entire time Rig talked. 

“I’m called Rigs because I can climb all over the rigging and ropes over the whole ship. I’ve climbed to the top a the main mast from the poop deck without touching a plank of wood, 14 times. None of the others in the crew can say that cause they’ve never done it. I also know all of the knots Dannon knows and I’m trying to get Jimi Bones to teach me his. The knots he ties don’t come out even in the worst weather and nobody can untie ‘em, or at least figure out how to.” The boy could talk the beak off a parrot that's for sure, it was almost a surprise he wasn’t named Parriot or some equally witty and comical name. 

Dalton didn’t mind though. It was endearing watching the boy’s eyes light up as he described exactly how to get ‘Ole Gin to give the best rations or give descriptions of the sea battles they’d witnessed. 

It was quite good fun to listen to his stories that only needed marginal prompting, and Dalton was exceedingly grateful that he didn’t have to contribute anything to the conversation. The metal still cut into his back, and his eyes still burned from the saltwater, but he had food in him and was now being given water liberally from the flask. The canteen hadn’t been unscrewed and it seemed they were both alright with that, Dalton didn’t care to drink unless it was to get drunk so he was content to listen to Rig’s tales. 

Suddenly Rig goes quiet, he glances around at the open ocean before leaning in close and whispering, “you ever hear of mermaids?” The boy’s dark eyes were wide and completely serious in a way that made it very clear the question was not rhetorical.

“Heard of them? Yes.” Dalton answered slowly, in a far too hushed tone, “But I have never laid eyes on one.” he had purposely left the conversational mermaid door open for Rig to gush about but the lad went disturbingly silent. 

“What have you heard?” The question was so open and almost urgent, that it worried Dalton. 

“Bits and pieces of lore,” he answered carefully, “half of it probably false.” He almost stopped there, but those wide eyes were staring up at him with curiosity so intense he continued. “I’ve heard that they lure men to their deaths with a ghostly song,” Rig’s eyes widened in fear, “but mermaids don’t do that, Sirens do.” the boy seemed to deflate with relief at the assurance.

“What else do you know?”

Dalton paused, this was a very unusual turn of the conversation, but the boy’s intensity slightly frightened him so he continued. “I’ve heard that they are not born half human, but are the souls of women thrown overboard or who died at sea. That they seek revenge against those who had wronged and killed them. I’ve heard that they have the beauty of an angel and that their song is the most lovely ever heard by human ears, and that their kiss will save a man from drowning. But I’ve only heard this, over rumor or myth, I wouldn’t count it to be true but there is no way to be certain what is true and what are the fancies of a bard.” Rig had stayed ghostly silent, listening intently to the words Dalton spoke. 

After a period of silence, Rig asked, “so you believe in them?”

“I would never say they were fable, but I wouldn’t go telling the world about them lest I see one with my own eyes.” He had said it in a way to treat it as a light hearted life lesson, ‘never believe something till you see it yourself’ type of thing, but it came off with far too much foreboding. 

Rig didn’t seem to notice and began speaking quietly, “I’ve heard that Jude Hewitt saw one,” he leaned in closer, “near Remsall Bay. Swimming like a dolphin, inky black hair flowing after her. Jyll Gold said he saw seaweed, until she saw it too. Said she’d never forget the hateful eyes that she swore were filled with the void itself.” Rig nodded all too solemnly before continuing. “They say that you don’t see them first, you hear ‘em, a voice so angelic you think you’ve died. The kind of voice you would follow into hell or a reaf. The kind of voice that kills you. The first thing you see is the hair. It billows around them like seaweed, you just see little tufts of color, floating like oil stains on the sea. Then they say, they bring their heads just above water. All you can see is the face of a goddess with hair flowing around them.” He paused. “That’s when the crew starts going overboard.” A haunted look crosses their face. 

It is gone in a flash of a grin across their dark skin. Dalton couldn’t help but return it with his own toothy smile. Even if the smile felt far too fake.

“I best be off then,” Rig stands from where he had been sitting on one of the arms, “best of luck to ye sir.” He tilts his invisible hat to Dalton, and begins climbing up the ropes with a practiced grace. 

“Just call me Dalton,” he called after him. 

Rig turned back to look at the man, “Will do Sir Dalton.” The captive let out a joyless laugh as the boy disappeared onto the deck. 

Dalton turned back to stare into the sea, Rig’s words stayed with him as his eyes wandered over the rolling waves. Mermaids staying far too long in his mind.

[systra]

In Dreams

notes: This is my first ever published fanfic! I wanted to write a beautiful, celestial romance story for our hero that keeps his characterization intact and also contains action. I’ve taken some liberties by expanding on Star Wars lore a bit & I hope you like what I’ve come up with. If you enjoy the story or have critique please let me know! I’m also about halfway done with Part 2 & will have it up soon. <3

pairing: The Mandalorian x oc

rating: pg-13 for now. mild violence/action & mentions of blood/injury.

word count: 2,605

  In Dreams - Part One

  Outside the cockpit window was an Elysian world. Stars glowing softly as they came back into focus after the ship had dropped from hyperspeed back into a steady pace. The Mandalorian’s gloved fingers pressed a few buttons be fore dropping into an idle position on the armrests of the Captain’s chair. His helmeted gaze came to rest on the empyrean visage he had seen countless times from the very position he sat in now. The familiar hush of space settled in and around him, the mysterious silence of the cosmos something he had always thought of as comforting. And yet, as he stared out into that celestial quiet, he felt the all too familiar feeling of....something amiss. That subtle heartbeat of discomfort, the undercurrent that gently floated beneath all his waking hours. What it was he couldn’t place. He wasn’t sure he wanted or needed to. In this moment was only the calm, the Quiet, the endless reaches of stars. 

-

 The planet was small, and heavily forested. As far as the eye could see, massive pines and oaks stretched across into the horizon. Deep into the towering trees must have been civilization of some sort, as smoke rose indicating that fires burned. The Mandalorian inhaled deeply, taking in the sylvan scent that surrounded him. The air was fresh and cool, the wind making the branches of the trees sway softly in the direction away from the clearing he’d landed in. Beckoning him to begin his search. 

Taking out the bounty puck, he hit the button and once more a hologram issued up, showing him the target once more. The image had clearly been taken from far away and was therefore not entirely clear - but one thing was for certain. It was a woman. He had read the accompanying description several times, memorizing the key physical features it had mentioned. 

With a last look at the ship, his mind turned to the precious cargo onboard. His reason for taking this job in the first place - the child. There came a sort of mental twitch to the bounty hunter’s mind, the familiar twinge of anxiety that accompanied having to leave the child alone. It didn’t last long, however - the ship was the safest place for the little one to be at the moment. 

The Mandalorian began his journey into the primeval prison, his hand not far from his blaster as he carefully made his way in the direction of civilization. 

After about an hour’s walk, he stopped and checked the mapping compass built into his bracer. He should’ve reached where those smoke trails had been arising from by now. The wind picked up a bit, pulling at his cape as though mocking him for getting himself lost. Strange. His tracking skills hadn’t failed him before—

It was at that moment that a deep growl issued forth from behind him in the trees. By the time the Mandalorian had whirled halfway around to find the growl’s origin, the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he hit the forest’s floor with a sickening thud. A massive, furred beast had charged and was attempting to claw into his flesh with hideously large talons. Saliva dripped from equally enormous fangs as the creature roared into the Mando’s helmeted face, snapping its jaws inches away as he attempted to fend the beast off. A white hot flash of pain hit the bounty hunter as the beast landed a blow to his side. He somehow managed to score a hit to the creature’s eye and as it hesitated, the Mando didn’t waste the opportunity to grasp his blaster and shoot it just below its arm. The creature roared and charged once more, knocking the bounty hunter back against a tree. Despite his helmet lessening the impact, the Mando saw stars as his head hit the tree’s unyielding trunk. His recovery was impeccable however, as the distance put between him and the monstrous animal was enough for him to land 3 more shots between its eyes. 

It hit the ground with a defeated thud and the bounty hunter slowly lowered his arm, his blaster falling out of his hand as the other came up to touch the large wound on his side. His blurred vision looked down to see a veritable river of blood flowing forth from his torso. The coppery scent filled his nostrils as his vision went black. 

 -

 At first he dreamed of fire. Explosions reflected off the shining metal of a battle droid. A memory he could escape neither in waking or in dreams. Lamentations that should never fill a child’s ears the familiar dirge he had heard in his mind so many times since it first occurred. The sickly scent of shrapnel and blood, tearing a river through the fabric of his fever dreams.     

The hellish memories faded into blurred vision as he felt a gentle hand rub a sweet smelling poultice into the wound at his side. The pain was searing, his parched throat issuing forth a groan. Swiftly the pain began to fade as the plant matter’s effects gently spread through his body, the honeyed smell filling his head as he drifted away.

This time, his dreams were sweet. The image of a white rose blooming in a glass vase. His bare hand softly dipping into a gently running stream, the water caressing his fingertips. A pink horizon at dusk on a desert planet. The sound of wind chimes softly singing in the breeze.    

       -    

      Birds twittered softly outside, coaxing the Mandalorian to wake. A clouded vision of a woman in white, sitting over him with her hands hovering above the wound in his side was just at the edge of his consciousness, slipping away swiftly as dreams were wont to do. It only took a few moments after the vision faded that he started, alarmedly looking around the hut he found himself in. With a slight groan, he sat up on the edge of the bed to survey his surroundings. The cottage he found himself in was small & somewhat primitive, but comfortable. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, creating a pleasant fragrance mixed with woodsmoke from the crackling fireplace.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

A woman’s bemused voice came from the open doorway of the cottage, bringing the bounty hunter fully into waking life as his head snapped over towards her direction. 

What met his gaze was the girl from the bounty puck. 

A petite woman in her mid 20s, with pale skin and light red hair tumbling far past her waist. She was wearing a long white tunic and carried a basket full of bright blue leaves of some kind. About her neck was a pendant bearing a cloudy, cerulean stone. The bounty hunter had no doubt in his mind that it was her. 

He watched her silently as she crossed the small cottage’s floor to set the basket on a tiny table in front of the only window. Her lips carried a soft smile at their edges, even as her blue eyes left the Mando’s helmeted visage. 

“You had quite a close call there. The claws of the Daglaks are poisonous. Had I found you but an hour later, you’d surely be dead.” 

Remembering the encounter with the animal in the forest, his hand came to touch the several blood-stained holes in the canvas shirt covering his side. The beast’s claws had managed to get him right at the spot below his shining beskar armor, one of few vulnerable areas. He was amazed to find, as he pressed his gloved fingers in the fabric’s holes, that there appeared to be no trace of his wound left. 

“How long have I been out?” His deep voice came from inside the helmet, the vocoder texturing his voice with a slightly robotic quality. 

“I would say, about 5 hours.” The redhead answered him, her lips curling ever so slightly again in that knowing smile as she came to sit in one of two chairs at the table bearing her basket of leaves. 

Five hours, and not even a scab in the place he’d been deeply slashed by the beast. How...?

“I’m an Anreth. A healer.” Came her voice, in answer to what she must have (correctly)assumed him to be wondering. She had begun to gently tear at the leaves in the basket. “I’m Systra. Systra Phen.” Suddenly she looked up at him with a smile, her blue eyes glimmering with something like anticipation, like the idle flames of a campfire dancing. “Are you a bounty hunter?”

“Yes.” He replied evenly, picking up his blaster from the small bedside table where she had placed it, as well as his jet pack, while he was unconscious. Holstering it, he stood and stared at her from beneath his helmet. He felt no need to lie to her about his occupation, despite the fact that she was his current target.

Her sparkling gaze returned to the leaves as she poured them from the basket into a bowl. The Mando noticed a white bandage wrapped around one of her wrists. “That sounds very exciting. Have you ever been to Telris? It’s small, on the Outer Rim. It’s where I’m from.” The healer stood, picking up her emptied basket and a worn lavender cloak draped over the back of her chair. The Mandalorian watched her without answering her previous question, taking in the situation and the woman who had, apparently, rescued him from a venomous end. 

“Not a man of many words are you?” Systra looked at him with a brow quirked. She was pretty, something that hadn’t been readily apparent from the distorted bounty puck’s hologram. 

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here for the remainder of the day, to rest if you like. I’m pretty sure you hit your head. I don’t think it’s serious but I didn’t actually get a look at it.” She gestured in the direction of his helmet. “I...sensed you wouldn’t want me to take that off.”

“Thank you...for your help.” 

Nodding softly at him, that slight curl of her lips remained as she fastened the cloak about her. “There’s food in the cupboard. I’m going to pick some more Pelnit flowers down by the stream, so you’ll have some privacy.” Her eyes briefly roved down to his blaster and then back up to where his gaze would be underneath his helm, quickly taking in his form before exiting the cabin.

Left with only the soft crackle of the fireplace and the muffled sound of wind chimes outside(which he noted as also not being just part of his feverish dreams), he moved towards the window. He watched Systra as she walked towards the stream not far from the hut, and knelt down to pick the cobalt flowers beside it.

Something felt deeply.... peculiar about the whole situation. He was running out of time to analyze it, however, as the child had already been left alone at the ship for too long. The child.... 

His mind flashed back to when he had seen the little one use his...unique abilities to heal a potentially fatal injury. The dream-like vision of Systra with her hands hovering just above his poisonous wounds came rushing back. Did she possess the same ability to heal somewhat miraculously as the child did? If so, she may have other hidden “talents” that could complicate turning her in to the client. The Mandalorian felt a twinge of guilt - after all the woman had saved his life. But he barely had enough credits left for food for both him and the child, much less fuel and other necessities while on his search for the Child’s people. When it came down to it, if he had to choose between Systra and the child’s needs - he must choose the latter. 

 -

 The Mandalorian opened the cottage door as quietly as possible, cautiously moving towards the healer’s form seated on the ground. Her back was to him as she picked the blue flowers at the edge of the stream, gently placing them in her basket. Moving slowly towards her without a sound, his hand came to rest lightly on the hilt of his blaster. 

As he came within just a few feet of her, however, something made him stop and instead speak to her in a calm voice. “How did my wounds heal so quickly?”

“I think you already know.” She answered, without even looking back at him as she gathered a bouquet into her hands. 

She stood and faced him without looking up, her arms full of the blue flowers. Her eyes were closed as she gently inhaled the scent of the blooms in her arms, before finally looking up at him steadily. “Pelnit flowers help to stop infection, and they bring pleasant dreams.” At her words, the Mandalorian was reminded of the tender images he had seen while unconscious in the cottage. 

Systra broke his gaze to glance down at his hand still resting on his blaster, then back up to his eyeline with a hint of sarcasm in her eyes and in her voice. “So it’s like that huh?”

“It— no.” He answered, the dreamy visions snuffed out like a candle in his mind. “Just a reflex.” He removed his hand entirely from the blaster before addressing her again. The bounty hunter’s metal-encased head glanced about, taking in the color of the sky - it was nearly dusk. “I need to return to my ship. But, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you. May I return in the morning?”

Still clutching the bundle of flowers, a soft smile came across Systra’s pale features as she stared up at him. “Of course.” Glancing down at the Pelnit flowers, she pulled a few away from the others and held out the small bundle to the bounty hunter. “Here. Should you ever have need of it.”

 -

 Despite using the jet pack to help him locate his ship, it was night by the time the Mandalorian reached the Razor Crest, a blanket of stars covering the sky seen above the tree tops. The ship appeared undisturbed for all intents and purposes, but the bounty hunter rushed inside nonetheless. 

He immediately went to the cockpit and looked inside the metal orb hovering silently near the captain’s chair. The small green child lay inside, fast asleep - his large, innocent eyes opening at the sound of footsteps. The bounty hunter reached in and gently picked up the toddler, holding him against his chest as he grabbed the small container of food near the makeshift cradle. Sitting in the captain’s chair, he fed the little one from the container, knowing he must have been starving after going most of the day without food. 

“Well, I found the target.” He spoke out loud to the child as he fed him, despite never actually knowing if the little one could understand his words. “There’s been some new, developments in the plan.”  The child looked up at him with large, inquisitive eyes as he chewed softly. “I think she may be....like you.” 

Once the little one was sufficiently fed, the Mandalorian leaned back in the Captain’s chair with the child resting in the crook of his arm. Staring out the window into the lucent night sky, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something.... fated was at play here. If the healer possessed similar powers as the Child, she may know something about the baby’s people - or other information pertinent to his quest. One thing was for certain, however: he couldn’t turn Systra in. Not yet. 

[venus-says]

Aikatsu On Parade! Dream Story Episodes 01-02

A new dream is the start of a new journey.

It is finally time to talk about Dream Story!

If you follow me on Twitter you know I wasn't necessarily excited for Dream Story and a huge part of that was because I never had any strong feelings about Noeru while watching OGkatsu so bringing her back as the new protagonist for this web series wasn't really that appealing to me. I always knew I'd watch it because after all, this is Aikatsu and I love this franchise even with all of its flaws, but I wasn't anything I was celebrating.

And it's with a lot of joy that I come here and say that I was gladly surprised and I enjoyed the hell out of this web show.

Yeah, it has its problems like being too short, not having the best animation or art direction, some of the things are rushed, and the odd and irregular release schedule. But for what it is, it is a pretty good show, it's very wholesome, and I don't know I just had a very good time watching it. not gonna lie, kinda wish they had more of these to flash out other characters that were left behind by their seasons (but I know this is asking too much so I don't have my hopes high).

I pretty much enjoyed everything about this anime, and I'll get to that in a moment, but there's one thing that really bugged me, and yeah, it's a very minor problem, and considering what I wrote for the finale of the TV anime I know I shouldn't be complaining about this, but like, I can't deny that is very confusing with the continuity to have this happen so casually after the end of On Parade where technically the worlds were split again. Like, it is a very minor thing, and I know that as short as it is this show doesn't have the luxury to waste its time to give us lore explanation, but I feel like I had to note this otherwise I'd feel very weird. In any case, let's move on.

To begin with, I've fallen in love with Noeru, it was a very short time we spent with her as a protagonist of her own story but I really got to like her in this period. Because she had left a very small impression on me in the original anime I wasn't sure if they would have enough to build her as a strong character, but they had plenty to use for her and I really enjoyed the experience of rediscovering this character through new lenses but with information that was already there and that I just didn't pay much attention because I was focusing in other things whenever she appeared in the anime.

Two scenes in particular sold Noeru as a very good character to me. the first one is the one right before their performance where she tells Seira that Ichigowas what inspired her to be an Idol, but Seira is the idol she aspires to be, it's a short moment but the impression it gave me it was that she had more to her than just being another of Ichigo`s children XD. The second scene is when she goes talk to Amahane-san to thank her for the dress she got for her performance, the relationship between idol and brand designer is one of the aspects I miss the most of OGkatsu so seeing it here really hit the spot for me, and it was also very sweet seeing the admiration Noeru has for Angely Sugar and how Amahane-san sees her as worthy of being able to lead Angely Sugar to a different path from the ones Ichigo and Madoka did. That's a lot of good stuff for two episodes that don't go over 15 minutes each and I was very impressed.

The "main" thing for this series, the goal everyone is reaching for, is the Dream School Grand Prix which is a very interesting concept. To starters I like how this is a competition to decide which is the best idol school and not who's the best idol, I think this is what they originally wanted to do with Dream Academy in season 2 but that they dropped because the story took itself to another path, and I'm glad they're using it here. I don't know why they allowed graduated students to participate, but it's not that big of a problem to me, I mean if they wanna show how good each school is showing off their graduates is the way to do it, that's why colleges are always using people who already studied there to do their ads, I guess this is just another variation of this.

In terms of participants, I pretty much agree with everyone that was chosen by each school. Starlight obviously chose the Starlight Queens, Neo Venus Ark brought in the only other main characters that weren't Elza, and Star Harmony brought the actual Diamond Friends and one member from the past unit that holds that title, I would've rather see Mirai instead of Karen just for type diversity but it makes sense that Karen is there. The chosen ones from Four Stars were probably the ones I was most unsure about, but if this is in canon with On Parade, Ako is in Hollywood and Haruka is just a side character so only Yume and Mahiru were available from the current S4 generation and Hime is the choice that makes more sense out of the 25th generation so... good choices overall.

I just think the way they made the thing work was just a bit weird, like in the first episode they announced who their representatives would be, then they had a performance, and then at the end of the second episode they had the formal presentation to the public, and I don't know it felt weird. I think they should've made the announcement in the press release, THEN have the announcement ceremony from episode 2, and the performance should come after that as a way to showcase the participants, but I guess they had to have a performance in episode 1 so they had to do it in that way so...

And since I mentioned the performance, let's talk about it. I really love this song, I love this stage, I love everything about this, even the weird CGI. I think the only thing I don't like here is Maria's dress because I think that skirt is pretty ugly, but HNoeru and Sora's PRs more than compensate for that. I also really like the special effects, they were obviously added there to cheapen out the think and don't make it so obvious that this isn't the best CGI ever but I enjoyed them anyway, I especially like the transition when the stage goes from day to night, it was all very beautiful. But I think the more important thing of all is: WE FINALLY GOT A FULL FITTING ROD SEQUENCE!!!! Yeah, it's not as charming as the original, but honestly? WHO CARES? I'm just happy that after 25 episodes of nothing we finally got this back. Sadly no special appeal yet. :(

The final thing I have to comment on is in the rivalry between Akari and Noeru that started here. It was a very nice surprise to see this being implemented, I never saw this as a possibility before, but when you go beyond the surface level you can see that they share more similarities than what one would think and I'm really happy to see this being explored here.

And I think that's all I had to say, I'm genuinely impressed that I wrote so much about such short episodes, but I really liked what I saw and I'm just very glad we have Dream Story. What are your thoughts in the first two episodes and Drem Story as a whole? Let me know in the comments down below. Stay healthy, stay safe, never stop resisting, thank you so much for reading until this fr, and until the next time. Bye-bye~

[supermoviemaniac]

DEFENDING...

THOR: RAGNAROK!

Okay, so yesterday I asked you guys which is your least favourite MCU movie and why. I said I'd take the most commonly disliked film and try and defend it, using my personal reasonings as well as attempting to counter what issues you had with it yourselves.

Firstly, I'm quite surprised that Ragnarok was the most hated! I was expecting Age of Ultron or Iron-Man 3 (though they weren't too far behind). To make it clear, it's okay to dislike this movie, my attempt at defending the movie is just a bit of fun, but if it lets you see and appreciate the movie in a different light then that's cool! If it doesn't then that's cool too! Here goes...

I'll start with why I personally love Ragnarok, and how it was actually my favourite MCU movie, until Infinity War inevitably took that spot.

Thor was the first character in the franchise to introduce outerspace, and the cosmic side of the cinematic universe. With Iron-Man, Hulk and Cap being restricted to Earth, Thor was key to broadening what types of stories they could tell, what sort of threats and stakes could arise etc. The first Thor movie was certainly a bold move at the time, hoping that audiences would embrace the fantastical themes that he and Asgard brought to the table. Bar Thanos, Thor and Loki are the reason sh*t's going down in the first Avengers movie, so you have them to thank for that.

Flash forward to Dark World however, at this point we've seen Asgard already, so the novelty has worn off slightly. As much as the movie expands our view of Thor's home, we still feel very restricted, as though we're only seeing through a keyhole, when we actually wanna bust the door down and see what an outerspace adventure could really offer, hence why people gravitate towards Guardians of the Galaxy so heavily, because it let loose and didn't feel like it was shying away from the sci-fi elements that made the property what it was.

So with Dark World leaving a bad taste in our mouths (even though I think it's underratedly funny, but perhaps another time), and Thor not quite standing out in Age of Ultron, we're left thinking, do we really even want another Thor movie at this point? Something had to change. The studios' take on Thor was good in ways, but wasn't gripping people as much as say Iron-Man and Cap. If Captain America could have an amazing sequel, why couldn't Thor? With the damage already done via Dark World however, Ragnarok had to be Marvel's shot at redemption and reinvigoration, and I personally think it was.

There's no arguing Ragnarok was a bold step to take Thor, though not everyone agrees it was for the better. Could the Thor we were used to still work given the correct writing and direction? Who knows, but with already 'failing' once with Dark World, it was surely less of a risk to go for something completely unexpected. We go from majestic golds and elegant architecture, to crazy, vibrant, jagged imperfections that you'd expect to see in a retro sci-fi movie. The Thor we knew and expected has lightened up a little, during his few years between Age of Ultron and now, scouring the universe for information on the Infinity Stones. No pun intended, but perhaps his absent couple of years provided some much needed soul searching. So to those that wonder why Thor is suddenly so funny and witty, he's been out and about off-screen for quite a while loosening up! That's how I like to see it at least.

In the first 10 minutes, we're given more cosmic calamity than any of the other Thor movie has provided in their joint runtimes. He's in the fiery realm of Muspelheim, kicking the crap out of hellish minions and their giant demonic flame lord, Surtur, whilst the Immigrant Song plays. Then moments later, there's a damn dragon beast that's on fire that chases him, as the coolest little synth melody twinkles in the background. That cool little action scene not only gave Mjölnir the ultimate send off, but I remember thinking just from that point, "This is what Thor movies are meant to be like! This is already my favourite MCU movie!"

I think the comedy is people's biggest issue with the film. Admittedly, the style of humour was a little jarring at first, but I soon let go of doubts and embraced what the movie was trying to do. Notice how I said 'style' of humour, and not just 'humour' as a whole, because a lot of people forget just how comedic the first two Thor movies actually are. I feel like humour allows a sort of alleviation to what could potentially be something rather odd on screen. That way, if the movie embraces it's outlandish source materials, the comedy allows us to laugh with it, rather than at it. I think people are okay with the inclusion of comedic elements - I think they just weren't expecting the amplification that it had. So as I said, you can either let that ruin the film, or you can embrace/accept it, because there is just as much heart in this film as there is humour.

I know there's people that think Hela was wasted. Having watched these movies countless times, I rarely see any issues with villains anymore. The fabled 'villain problem' springs to mind, where everyone says that they were just there as a device to make the hero save the day. But what's actually wrong with that technically speaking? And how is that any different to other movies outside of the superhero realm? I see most of these villains as stepping stones for the heroes. These movies belong to the heroes, so the way I see it, the villains are there to develop and shape the good guy into whatever the finished product may be by the time the credits roll, just like all the other characters do in the movie. To prove this point, everyone loves Thanos as a villain, but that's because Infinity War was his movie, given the amount of time spent with him. I think the only exception is Loki, but his character is so well-received because he sits within the grey area of good and bad. We've seen both sides of him now.

Yes, I understand that villains are a little lack luster in most of these movies, but I liked what Hela brought to the franchise. We get the shock of discovering Thor has an older sister, she manages to take over Asgard, she demolishes everything in sight, she was the reason Thor is reinvigorated via his new right eye and weapon, she forced Thor's hand, making him enact Ragnarok (even though there's no stopping Ragnarok but it was a cool twist) and destroy Asgard, she was the first main female villain at long last, and she had a giant wolf. Some films spend more time with the villain, and some sacrifice it to focus more on the hero. There's never a straight 50:50 between good and evil in their storytelling, and I imagine it's always a hard call to make when balancing and ensuring that not only do the audience care for the hero, but also everything and everyone around them. Regardless the solo hero is always the focal point. Unless you're watching Breaking Bad or American Psycho or... *Lists shows and movies told from the bad guy's perspective*

I think the underlining disapproval stems from the fresh direction that it took. His hammer goes bye-byes, his warrior friends die just like that, Thor no longer looks or acts like the Thor we're used to, and Jane moved on. People will either be okay with those things, or it'll be too much to accept. Was the film too bold? Perhaps, but Thor can conduct lightning through his body now and that fight scene on the Bifrost bridge was badass.

Jokes aside, I suppose it's up to the individual audience member to decide whether or not the change is too much. A part of me wishes that the Thor we currently have was the Thor from the get go - things would've been different, but I love the character no matter what weapon or haircut you give him. Ragnarok gave the God of Thunder the opportunity to prove why he's a badass and not just a guy that relies on a hammer. They turned the dial up on his power level, and then again in Infinity War, which is good because I feel like prior to Ragnarok, Thor was kinda just there, y'know?

Everyone has their own favourite and least favourite movie, and no one should force you to alter your personal interests and disinterests, but if I were to wrap up what I thought of the film, Thor: Ragnarok to me is a fun, crazy joyride from start to finish, that provided a lot of heart as well as light-heartedness. It introduced some new, diverse characters whilst also giving the Hulk a much-needed story arc. A bold game-changer for the character and the lore he contributes to the MCU. It's the type of change I can appreciate and most definitely get behind!

What do you guys think? Have I swayed your opinions, or do you hate the movie more now! Let me know. Thanks for reading! Shall I do more of these? Let me know that too. I'm off to buy snacks and watch Ragnarok now, no joke!

[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin | Chapter 24: “All´s Fair and Karma is a Bitch”

Pairing: Kol x SalvatoreSister!Reader

Chapter Summary: A surprising return sets the reader and Kol on a path of no return..

Warnings:  canon-divergent lore (it'll make sense when you read it, I promise) this one is also mostly focused on Kol, angst, typical tvd violence, so much dialogue, canon divergence

Word count: 4389

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Open Coffin Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

Recap:

What’s going on?”  Is all you could manage to bring out before you grab the couch again, this time covering the floor before you with a steady stream of blood. It feels like you’re drowning in your own blood.

With your brain in overdrive, you feel your vision declining the more blood is coming out of your mouth, before suddenly everything engulfs into black, as if someone flipped of a light in a dark room. You fall back against Kol unconscious, blood dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“What did you do?!” Kol grits through his teeth, as he scoops you up in his arms to lay you down on the couch behind him..

“Not a thing. She brought that on herself.” Mae shrugs without a care in the world “But this is only the beginning…Say goodbye to the Y/N you know and love. She won’t be the same when she wakes up.”   

“Speak. Now!” Kol demands. If she´ss not cooperating soon, Kol will resort to deliciously brutal alternatives, no matter if you claim that she’s your friend. He doesn’t care.

“Patience.” Mae says, her voice layer with a tick of annoyance “But first, I have someone here who is dying to talk to you.”

Kol straightens up, as the sound of heavy boots echoes in the hall. He couldn’t see the person’s face at first due to the blinding sunlight, but when he finally does, all he wants to do is run for his life….

“Surprised to see me?” Klaus smug smile evokes many feelings in Kol, but surprise? No, Kol is not surprised in the slightest. His brother has always managed to get what he wants, the way he wants. Of course, he would find a way to cheat death.

He looks at his older brother, then back to the couch, stepping in his line of sight. Maybe he would focus his rage on him instead of you. But that's might just wishful thinking on his part.

“I'm pretty sure you went up in flames..” Damon Mutter, not quite believing his eyes.

“Oh, I very much did. Quite unpleasant, really. But my dear Maeyra used her vast resources to secure my well-being.” He says, moving his attention to Kol  “Cat's got your tongue, brother?”

“Well, brother, I´m not particularly surprised to see you,” Kol replies.

Using the word brother remains to be more of a dismissive term, and Klaus knows that. And he also knows that Kol´s statement is a lie, he didn´t overlook the obvious surprise on his brother's face. However mischievous Kol remains to be, he has always been a bad liar.

“Can we, uh get back to how you´re even here right now?” Stefan says “We drove a stake through your heart.”

“You?” Klaus scoffs, dismissing their involvement to nothing but a coincident “You, gentlemen,  were nothing but a pawn - an accessory if you will- to Y/N´s Shakespearean thirst for revenge.”

Stefan quirks his eyebrows up before letting them fall back to their usual resting position. He could reply to Klaus statement verbally. He had things to say about him, he just isn't sure he wants to waste time bothering.

“I knew you couldn´t be trusted.”  Damon says, averting his words to Mae “Y/N always did have poor taste in friends.”

“Congratulations, you got me. Boohoo.” Mae sighs, before giving Klaus a pleading look   “Would you mind? ”

Klaus smiles and vamp-speeds towards Damon standing nearest and snaps his neck, before quickly moving on to Stefan who couldn't even register what was going on before he too was engulfed in blackness.

“Now, that's better.” Klaus dusts off his hands,  “All talk those Salvatores. Well, except for one. “

“Look, “Kol says, having more pressing matters to attend than useless platitudes, “I´d love to chat about whatever this is, but I have an unconscious girlfriend covered in blood back there, so would you mind buggering off. Your betrayal is not on my to-do list today.”

“Betrayal?” Klaus laughs, fake offended “Don't be so dramatic, brother. Maeyra and I merely joined forces because you couldn't keep your girl in line.  She helped me lift my curse, I felt obligated to help her. After all, what's worth dying for if not love?”

Love...Kol could not even begin to associate that word with anything his brother does. It makes him sick to his stomach. Or perhaps it´s the worry about your current condition- either way, he senses a veil of danger in the air. Danger that feels different, blood curling and cold.

What if she's right and you won't be the same. But what if-  

He pushes the thought aside. If they want to lay their secrets bare for once, he’ll bite their bait.

“Curse?” He asks “What curse?”

“It ain't a curse exactly, but you know, it's six of one, half dozen of the other,” Mae says as she walks further into the room, going straight for your unconscious form. She reaches out, but Kol's firm grasp on her wrist prevents any contact.

“Hands off. “ He warns and everyone knows he'll only warn once.

“I could say the same. “Klaus says, the usual charismatic and boastful s voice nothing but a dangerous whisper.

“Oh, so much Testosterone…” Mae sighs under her breath and pulls her hand free from Kol and heads for the bar. The next bit requires booze. And a lot of it.

Kol follows her every move, while also keeping tabs on Klaus. He's unsure who out of them will screw things up first or who’ll drive him to insanity- whichever comes first.

“Long story short, the magic I once possessed was stored away in here before I became a vampire.” She says and brushes over the scar on her face “The sacrifice of an original was the ultimate source to overpower the protection spell. It was the only way to retrieve said power, alongside rare ingredients I've gathered for the last 100 years. This spell was supposed to set my magic free. But someone must have intercepted it. ”

“Wasn't us.” Kol shakes his head and judging by the look on his opposer they don´t seem convinced. “I never heard of a spell like this. And magic drains away during the transition, how would you retrieve it?”

“Because my magic was hidden away before I was turned,  it wasn't lost like yours was. See it as a loophole, no magic drains away if it's undetected.”

Kol read about witches hiding their magic in objects, but never in themselves.

“And what about Y/N? She never had powers.”

“Turns out Momma Salvatore had powers of her own. Weak power but enough to pass it on to Y/N. After her birth, she chose to hide her magic within her. She wanted to tell her when she was older, to give her a choice, but she died before she could do so.”

“And do tell, how do you know this?”

“I might have stolen her diary a few centuries ago. Apparently, everyone in this family is keeping diaries.” She shrugs before rummaging around in her bag, “It's no use to me now if you want it, it's yours.” She slides the worn leatherbound book over the table.

“Now now, love,” Klaus says and leans towards her as if he's sharing a terrible secret “don't skip the best part.”

“Y/N is in transition, fighting a battle in her mind that either leaves her with vampire advantages and witch powers or…” She says, and hesitates for a second “well…..dead. “

Kol feels like someone tightened a noose around his neck. If you look close, you could see the perfected mask of pretend crumbling down and ram emotions taking over. And Kol's first emotion is always its anger.

He digs his fingertips into the leather, and slowly drags his eyes off the carpeting and states at his opponents, ready for torturing the truth out of them if he has to.

“Before you go all Dexter on me, there is a way to help. But you ain't gonna like the cost.”

Klaus turns his head at her words, quickly shaking his head “Out of the question. I will not allow it.”

“Tell me.” Kol demands “Tell me what we have to do to save her.”

There's no question that Kol will do whatever it takes.

No matter the cost.

--------

Kol had forgotten how much he used to enjoy watching the sunrise. The light streaming into the living room is bold and free for anyone who cares to open their eyes in the dawn and watch the world awake.

Even when the world was drowning in grief and hardship, the sky remained beautiful. It always gave him hope that if the sun keeps rising, so could he.

Even though his name alone represents darkness, he always found it humorous when the rising sun would shine a light on his bloody indiscretions committed during the dark hours of the day.

But none of that matters, it hadn't mattered since he stumbled into his life. He doesn't need the sunrise anymore, he sees the light beneath the darkness on his own now. And he wonders how much good it´ll do him when-

A knock on the doorframe interrupts his thoughts, and he turns his head towards the intruder.

“Still nothing?” Stefan asks, and Kol shakes his head.

Stefan, alongside his brother, woke up in the midst the preparations to ensure your survival. They demanded answers as they do, but soon realized that the cost, however great it is, must be

The only opponent of said plan was, to everyone's surprise,  Klaus.

“The cost is too great, brother. Let her fight on her own.” Is what he said. Of course, his brother would only think of himself if he were in his shoes. Kol didn't expect anything else. Nonetheless, the plan was executed all the same, with or without Klaus approval.

“It will work, I assure you.” Kol says,  the tone in his voice, less confident than he intended  “But I have a favour to ask. Do not mention it when she wakes up. She won't accept it”

“I won't. Damon won´t either, I´ll make sure of it.”   

Kol nods his head as a silent thank you. Stefan attention bounces around the room, looking at the couch, then back to Kol, before he clears his throat and steps further into the room.

“You know I, uh. I wouldn't know what I would've done if she-”. He pauses, “Just.. thank you for helping. “

“Don't thank me yet. Y/N will-… you know how she is. She'll take it out on you when she learns the truth”

“I know. “Stefan sighs and looks over to the couch, suddenly remembering why he stepped into the room in the first place. “Uh right.. I found this upstairs. She's gonna need it” He reaches into his pocket and hands Kol your daylight ring.

Promptly, Kol reaches for your hand slides the ring on your fingers with care, holding onto your hand afterwards.

“I hope you can forgive me someday.” He says, his voice faint as a whisper.

He didn't care if Stefan - or anyone else for that matter - heard him.

“I´ll uh,” Stefan clears his throat “I´ll give you some space. Got some things to take care of anyway. My number is in Y/N´s phone, call if you need anything.”

Kol knows he should say something, a thank you perhaps, but he lets Stefan walk away against his better judgment.

---

You were out cold for another hour, the only sign of life was your shallow breathing and the occasional wincing. And Kol remained a wreck. He tried pacing the room to calm his nerves, he tried reading and drinking - nothing helped.

So he waited and waited. Then just as the hand of the clock strikes another hour, your hand that's resting on the sofa balls to a fist and he sees you sit up, breathing heavy.

“Darling?”  He asks wearily, rushing to your side. But He's met with nothing but silence. “Y/N, talk to me.”

“I'm fine, I just…what fuck? I feel like I’m.. honestly, I feel like I’m high on something. Everything feels more vibrant and.. weird.”

Kol smiles and thinks back to the time where he first tapped into his magic it felt like he was surrounded by buzzing energy, ready to be He´d count your reaction as a good sign that the plan worked.

“What's wrong?” You ask, not having missed the worry on Kol's face. “What did I miss?

He has absolutely no idea how to tell you the news without either setting you off to everyone involved, presumably raining hellfire upon them, or…….. actually no, that's his main concern, So he starts with your new and unexpected powers instead. How your mother had witch powers and hid it within your bones. And how the induced sleep intended to kill you but you fought through it. Of course, he left out everything else it intels.

“I think I’m gonna pass out. Witch powers, really? Me?” You scoff,  dragging your fingers through your hair, “As if I didn't have enough problems just keeping myself in check, now witch powers too? How long do you think before I accidentally set something on fire? “

“Not a chance. I will help you take control.”

“You teaching me control? We’re so screwed.”

Kol can´t help the confused look on his face, as he scrunched his eyebrows together and glances at you with concern.

“Hey, I'm kidding. But you should´ve seen your face. “

Kol sighs and it bleeds over to a smile, before disappearing completely. He had a job to do.

“There’s something else, two matters in fact.” Kol continues “But first..what do you say we make good on our promises? Travel the world, just you and me.”

“Do you even have to ask? Of course, I'm coming with you” You reply “Now tell me everything. “

----

His confidence held up for about 5 minutes before all your emotional stability went out of the window. Once he passed explaining that Klaus is alive and well, he moved to Mae´s indiscretion

Of course, Kol failed in his attempt to keep you calm. By the time he explained his agreement with Klaus and Mae´s..indiscretion, you were out of the door, tracing her down.

Kol said you should let it go, you were lied to, it wasn't your fault- but your trust had been shattered and you have a score to settle. 

“What the hell?!” You yell at her, your voice bouncing off the outer walls of the Mikaelson Mansion. You knew she wouldn´t be far.

“Hell's right here.” She says, before she´s met with your balled fist. She tumbles back, and laughs  “Whew! The infamous right hook. You still got it. “

“You´ve been working with Klaus all this time? After everything, he did to me, to Kol?"

“We all do what must be done, and I've done nothing more than profit off of your anger.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Profit of my anger?” You huff, not bothering waiting for an answer “How could you? Klaus ruined my life and everyone´s life he ever touched! How could you protect him? I had him, Mae. I ended this for all of us.”

“And what did it get you, huh? Did you feel better? Did driving a stake through his heart relief you of the pain he caused? Revenge means nothing, and it will give you nothing.    Your foolish scheme would have been the end of us, and honestly, you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you? Are you fucking serious? You sided with my enemy!”

“I saved your life. And you have powers now. That´s a gift, a freedom I searched for decades. You better start being more grateful.”

“I didn't ask for any of this! I don't want them and I don't need them.”

“Well, you got ‘em. And you gotta to use them or they'll eat you alive. Literally.”

“I know all about it.” You brush her off.  Kol told you that the powers demand to be used or they´d claw at your skin until there's no skin left, 

“Just tell me how long you've been working with him." You continue "Then I’ll do the part where I tell you to go to hell, before we go our separate ways.”

“Shortly after you jumped ship, and joined Kol in his efforts, Klaus came to me asking for assistance and we made a deal. He would do anything he can to rid me of this curse and I will help him set his werewolf powers free. And protect him if anything goes south.

“I´m sorry, is this the point where I'm supposed to sympathize with you? Because that's not gonna happen. “  

“You might if you let me finish. “

“You know, I actually thought your efforts were noble when I first joined your community. I thought, hey finally something with purpose, something to make up for what I've become. And now I find out everything was a lie? Just another power play with me as the main act? And for what, more power than you already have?”

“Now do get off that high horse of yours. You ain't the saint you externalize either.” She snaps back but quickly regains her stellar demeanour  "But it ain't about power, it never has been. It's about being myself without having a part locked away. I deserve that freedom, no matter the cost.”

You almost have sympathy with her, but the fact that she has been lying to you pretty much ever since you´ve met melts any and all sympathy you had.

“But you broke my trust to get that freedom. I trusted you and I don't trust anyone.”

You could count on one hand the number of people that you genuinely trust, and she was on that list once upon a time.

“Let’s be frank, we never trusted each other.”

“We both know that's a lie. But if you're gonna stand here and explain it away, so be it. I have somewhere else to be.” You know full well that she's just trying to relieve her guilt, but you won't have any of it. Not anymore  “This is goodbye, Mae. If I find anyone coming after me, I'll kill them.”

With that, you turn your back on not only her but all the time you've spent trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. You actually thought you could trust her again.

“I know it'll mean nothing to you now,” She says, but you keep walking “but you will always have a home in New Orleans. No matter what happens or what you think of me, or my actions - you are always welcome.”

“Whatever.”

-------

Back at the house, you didn't think twice before packing your bags. Kol told you about the deal he made with his family; You both leave town, leaving Klaus in peace from now on. That's the price to pay for killing him or well, failing to kill him.  But if the past hours have taught you anything, is that if you´re presented a way out of a dire situation like this, you shouldn't hesitate. Maybe leaving town will finally give you the chance to leave all of this behind.

Perhaps everything you´ve done has finally let you here.

“All packed up, huh?” Stefan says from the doorway.

You look up and smile at him before turning back, throwing a t-shirt into your suitcase “Yeah. No idea where we´re going just yet, but I guess we're just gonna pick a place and go.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You sure you don't want to join us? There´s enough space.”

“I would but I, uh, we have some things to figure out here.” He says and you nod, zipping up the suitcase in front of you.

“Come on, let me help you with that.” Stefan offers, and grabs the handle, disappearing out of the room before you can protest.

Downstairs, you´re greeted by Damon´s presence, having just come back from some kind of business in town.

“You're leaving already?” He asks as you descend the stairs.

“Don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?” 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, huh?" You look back at Stefan behind you, quirking an eyebrow "The old Damon couldn't wait for me to go. What happened to him?“

“That Damon got his ass kicked and almost his head blown off by his little sister. I got rid of him.”

“About that.. “ 

“It's fine.” He waves it off. 

"Still, I´m sorry."  "But hey, we´re finally parting on good terms, who would've thought?”

“Wait for him to screw it up,” Stefan says and cocks his head towards Damon.

Damon grimaces a fake laugh, before reaching out and pulling you into an unexpected hug “You take care, little sis.”

“Oh god, don´t call me that, weirdo.”

“I'll call you whatever I want, weirdo.” He replies "Where´s your scary boyfriend?" 

Squeaking tires and loud music diverts your attention and you open the door, just in time to see Kol pulling up on the driveway.

“Right there.”

“You've got to be kidding me. Who is he trying to be, John Cusack in Say Anything? Not with a boombox over his head but with obnoxiously cheesy 80’s music?”

“Chessy?! Pft no taste. “Stefan mutters.

“If he's gonna turn that shit up, “Damon says  “I’m gonna punch the radio until my ears stop bleeding.”

“What did you say?!” Kol yells over the music, having just rolled the window down “I'm afraid I can't hear you?! Must be my old age. “

Damon groans “Just go already. I can't take it.”

“Fine, I'm going.” You approach the car, opening the passenger side, throwing your suitcase in the back before hopping into the passenger seat.

You lean out of the open window, looking back to your brother's, as Kol turns the ignition back on “Don't open the door to strangers, stay out of my room and don't call me unless you really have to. Actually, no don't call me at all.” You give them a wink before giving Kol the go, and he floors the car, driving away with squeeking tires.

Stefan and Damon remain behind and wave goodbye from the entrance to the house. Once you're out the driveway and out hearing distance, their smiles fall and worry spreads over them.

“She´s gonna hate us when she finds out.” Stefan says, chewing on the inner corners of his cheek “You know that, right?”

“Yup.” Damon nods “We're officially the worst brothers in history.”

“Yeah..You think she's gonna find out before...you know?”

“It´s Y/N, what do you think?”

“Yup, we´re screwed.”

Damon sighs and claps him on the shoulder “Royally screwed, little bro. Royally screwed..”

----

The road out of Mystic Falls is smooth black river in the dying sun. The sort where you'd follow them wondering if they'd ever cease to wind their way through nature.

You´re propped up on the hood of the car, legs crossed and soaking in the last rays of the sun. You asked Kol to pull over the car to savour this moment of leaving town, instead of just driving past the sign.

It reads "Leaving Mystic Falls" …  it's like music to your ears.

It was always the plan to travel the world together, to show Kol what he has been missing, and today, finally after hardship, murder and pain, the day has come. You wanted to leave this place for weeks now, but something, be it the ugly green hue of the sign or Kol´s unusual silent manner made you question your choice even just the tiniest amount..

“Who would've thought we're actually leaving this town behind for good?” You say, slipping your hand in his that's resting on his thigh before bathing in the sunset. “ Riding into the sunset even, how perfect is this? “

“I know,” Kol says, staring at your intertwined hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

You look over and instead of a beaming smile, you see his head hanging low.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Of course.” He says and lifts your hand, chasting a kiss on the delicate skin “Just...thinking about where to go first.”

“I don't care where we go. As long as you´re here, I have everything I need.”

“Let's not waste time then.” He says, and jumps off the car, throwing the keys towards you “Do you want to drive first? You've been eying this car ever since we left.”

“You know you're the only one I’m eyeing here.”  You reply, “Okay maybe the car as well.”

Kol laughs and finds himself tracing the cars shiny exterior in an exaggerated attentive manner “She's almost as beautiful as you.”

“Did you just...compare me to a car?”

“Your beauty knows no bounds, darling. Not even mechanical ones. ”

“Okay that's enough, get the in the car, Romeo.”

He laughs and you swear you never heard anything more heart-stoppingly beautiful.

You turn the volume up with a flick of the nob attached to the vintage radio and put the gear in drive, before flooring the pedal, leaving the town sign in the dirt.

Kol looks out of the passenger window, watching the trees fly by in motion and he feels an unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest, he could only describe as contentment.

He’s free. Finally.

And so in love.

And his life had 6 months left to run……..

A/N: Whew..on a scale from 1 to 10 how much do you hate me for the last sentence?  :D 

This is the last chapter before we have our  season finale or book 1 finale or whatever you like to call it. So prepare yourself for the next chapter, where we finally find out what exactly the price was for the reader's survival.

But I am so curious to know what you think! Any theories, criticism or any feedback are incredibly appreciated!!

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[takaraphoenix]

#10 for the ask game, let's say for couple of shows you watch, you decide which ones

Thanks for asking, this is a really intersting one! :3

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Huuuh, okay, lemme go through the shows I’m currently watching, see what I come up with. *tilts head*

Avengers Assemble: The current Black Panther’s Quest. But let me clarify: I don’t dislike the story of this arc itself; I dislike how it’s so awkwardly placed as an arc within Avengers Assemble. This should have been a spin-off, not a whole entire season’s arc of an Avengers show, considering the show has never given the individual Avengers huge standalone arcs like this before. As the plot for its own show this would be an amazing arc, but considering the show it’s on it’s... completely hijacking the show and that does bother me because when I watch an Avengers cartoon, I kind of want to see the Avengers in it, all of them, not just one? Just give him a spin-off, additionally to a real proper all-Avengers focused season of Avengers Assemble. It really ain’t that hard.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: I am... absolutely startled to read that most of the fandom seems to dislike season 7 the most?? When in fact season 5 was the worst. The storyline of Dawn was so bad. Not just the retconning in of Sudden Little Sister and just how unlikable the character herself is, but also that the offered out wasn’t used. Just kill off Dawn in the end, use her as the key she is so this obnoxious character doesn’t have to be carried over to the next season, but nope, instead Buffy dies for her. IT was so dumb and so annoying and I find the overly religious story-arcs - whatever the religion - really creepy...

Doctor Who: I really disliked Clara’s post-resolution arc. She was such a good character and I really-really liked her and then the Impossible Girl was finally resolved... and she stayed. That was when she should have left. But that whole nonsense with Danny and how spiteful Clara turned toward the Doctor then and she still stayed around. Usually, this show cuts characters out too early, but in Clara’s case, she overstayed her welcome and the arc they forced there was just really not fun to watch...

Game of Thrones: I am mainly watching it for Dany’s arc, though also the Lannisters and Arya interest me. The others, not so much, but the worst arc is most definitely Bran. I just... care so little about him and what he’s up to, to the point that the one season where he wasn’t in it, I didn’t even notice he was missing. Only that then the next season, he was suddenly back and I was like “oooh... eeeh...”. He’s so boring and bad, I could do without him; the show has so much going on already.

My Little Pony: That last season. The story arc of the kids. This show is very distinctively about the Mane Six. And it was already stretching my patience when it went all about Starlight Glimmer, but now this attempt at making it about a next gen and their whole Elements of Harmony story arc? It was just... not interesting? There are enough established characters to focus on, even beyond the Mane Six. More about their families, more focus on the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Spike, heck the background ponies like Octavia. Those kids...? I just... really did not care about them, I don’t remember a single name of theirs. The kids could have been used to further the Mane Six’s plotlines, as mentee and giving each a bond with one of the Mane Six. But this entirely separate own plot for those six new characters... was just not what I was interested in, not after seven whole years and seasons of caring about the Mane Six. Seriously, they could have had the Cutie Mark Crusaders make new friends and focus more on them as the next generation, but introducing fully unrelated, new characters... did not make me care...

Once Upon a Time: This might surprise some, but it’s actually not the Fr0zen arc, because that... at the very least... did a rather okay job at trying to fix the massive plotholes in the movie. I can appreciate that. It ain’t the soft-reboot either considering I refuse to watch that; can’t judge what I haven’t actually seen. I really disliked 5A the most; the whole Dark Emma nonsense and just how emo she was, I also really hate the storytelling tool of “here have a shocking now and let’s unravel it all in flashbacks”, that was so tiresome to watch. I dislike how King Arthur, the King Arthur, was turned into a fucking villain and how unnecessarily dramatic it was.

One Piece: Fishman Island Arc. It used to be Skypiea, but honestly I just dislike Shirahoshi so much. I find her brand of character absolutely nerve-grading. There was not really anything happening in the arc, it pretty much felt like a filler arc even though it was a major one. Waste of time.

Riverdale: The... damn how do I decide? This show started off so good as a fun murder mystery with intriguing characters. Haven’t seen season 3 yet so can only judge the first two. But Betty’s father suddenly turning serial killer was just such a horrendously over the top and unnecessary plot?? Veronica’s dad being a mastermind criminal had at least been set up from the get-go and even Jughead’s dad being the head of a gang and honestly was anyone surprised Cheryl’s mom would send her to conversion therapy? Okay, okay, I will buy all of that. But Betty’s father doing the serial killer bullshit was just way too much and unnecessary and just bad.

Shadowhunters: The addiction arc. It was the worst to watch for me so far. For one, because I am hard against drugs and really dislike addiction and drug arcs in general, but for another because it was just so badly written. That Isabelle, a brilliant scientist with a brain, would just cheerfully agree to take this risky drug from Aldertree to begin with, the utter lack of motivation as to why Aldertree would deliberately get her addicted to drugs aside from it being convenient for drama, then just how Raphael was completely reduced to a tool to further Isabelle’s plot and we did not treat him like a character facing addiction himself. It was so bad.

Stranger Things: The “let’s hide Eleven in my cabin and start to have secrets!”-arc? The reason I really loved the first season was because it was very up-front and open. No unnecessary miscommunication. So to then, in the second season force this miscommunication between characters who had already developed trust with each other... it was so cringeworthy. Eleven hiding from the boys, the sheriff not talking to them either. There was absolutely no reason to it aside from padding the runtime of the season. And that’s what defines a bad plotline; if it serves no actual purpose and has no grounding foundation, no reason behind it aside from “plot required it”.

Suits: The removal of one of their main characters?? This show? Literally? Has? Two? Main? Characters? And only one of them is the actual lead that separates this show from every other lawyer show. And... then... they remove him? The entire season leading up to that had such a good arc that was setting a separation between Mike and his girlfriend up because there were problems and there was distrust and they grew apart so much and I figured “Okay well the actress is getting married to a literal prince and leaving the show so they’re going to make them break up, huh?” and then in the last second, they decide to kit this and make Mike move away with her? I haven’t seen the new season yet but I... really can’t imagine it working out...

Teen Wolf: I feel like I should say 6B, but... I seem to hate that so much that my brain actually managed to forget it? And that’s... rare, but it happens occasionally. When something is really very bad and awful, my brain manages to forget about it. I clearly remember Jackson and Ethan making out and the whole FBI!Stiles thing and that it was about A Nazi, but... what the Nazi did and what actually happened and what, aside from the Nazi, I hated so much about that half-season... I can not for the life of me remember. Thank the gods. So I gotta go with 3A, because the True Alpha arc was the biggest bullshit. Don’t break your mythology. Don’t. Just don’t. Suddenly, a pack can be made up of all-alphas? How? The other alphas shoulda fall into being betas after joining Deucalion?? They should have become omegas after killing their pack because by definition they had no pack anymore?? They should not have gotten more powerful for killing their own pack? It made absolutely no sense at all and completely contradicted the lore this show had set up so far? And that Scott was somehow a ~True Alpha~... I still don’t see what the fuck’s so special about that if it doesn’t come with actual natural leadership abilities, which it should if you are a true and thus natural alpha, aka leader?? It was dumb and forced and you could taste the “Oh shit we want The Main Character to become alpha but we accidentally created a world where you can only become alpha by killing and of course can we not have The Main Character kill anyone!!!”... So dumb. So stupid. Do not like.

Wynonna Earp: THE BIBLE NONSENSE. This show started out so strong. And there was absolutely no reason to pull a sudden Bible on it. Bulshar could have just stayed his own OC demon self and this show could have kept its own mythology, but to suddenly make him the snake from the Garden Eden? To suddenly involve angels? Season 3′s Bible arc was just so absolutely unnecessary.

Salty Ask List

[diinofayce]

War Never Changes - 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader | Word Count: 5.6k | Warnings: Language, Violence, mentions of drugs | A/N: I have links spattered into the fic to help with lore explanations. They aren’t necessary to read, but it might help you understand the world if you give them a skin.

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER | MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER >

Bucky watched with apprehension as Shuri flipped a few switches on a console and took notes of the numbers on the screen. She had been spending her extra time introducing Bucky to various things he had missed out on while under Hydra’s control. It was during an episode of Star Trek that Bucky motioned at the screen where characters had traveled locations using an inter-dimensional portal and made some flippant comment on how convenient it would be to have one of their own. A portal between Wakanda and the Avengers compound in upstate New York in case things went south somewhere and they were needed on one side of the planet or the other. Shuri had turned to him with wide, excited eyes and immediately ran off to the lab. Bucky cursed himself mentally because in that instant he knew that somehow something was going to go wrong.

Shuri and Tony Stark had been working in tandem for months, with Bruce Banner sometimes popping in with theories on quantum physics. And now they had two portals built and the maiden voyage was about to commence, Bucky still had that itchy feeling on the back of his neck that he got when something bad was going to happen. Tony, Bruce, and Bucky’s best friend Steve Rogers were watching Shuri from their side of a video feed and when Shuri rattled off her series of numbers Bruce responded in kind. When the readings matched both Shuri and Tony held up a remote with a big red button in the middle. It didn’t need to be as ostentatious as it was, but both Stark and Shuri were all for the dramatic and flashy. At the count of three both of them pressed their button and the portal flashed with swirling blue light.

The portal glinted with shiny vibranium rings, the large standing hoop circled with silver coils - electricity crackling along the rungs. Bucky thought that maybe the structure in and of itself is what had him so on edge, the electric current that tinged the air with a slight acrid smell reminded him too much of the chair that Hydra used to buckle him into. But it was interesting to be on the outside of the electric field, to be able to physically see the current move and flash. The blue, swirling light of the portal hummed with activity, Bucky had been expecting to be able to see through to Tony Stark’s lab almost like a television and the fact that that was obviously not what was happening also had him concerned. To just step into a portal with no idea of if you were connected on the other side seemed foolish. It also didn’t help to settle his nerves that whenever he got too close to the portal it seemed to give a humming feedback of electric power and he could feel a slight vibration along the seam of his flesh and vibranium shoulder.

“Shuri, I don’t think this is stable,” Bucky commented hesitantly, flexing his vibranium finger and shaking the hand out.

Shuri spun to look at him and her lips quirked down in a half frown. “Maybe the mechanics are responding poorly to the radiation field. Try not to get too close, I’ll experiment with it later.”

“Is the test subject ready?” Tony asked on his side of the video feed. Bucky swore he could hear his voice muffled coming from the portal, warped under the hum of the power.

The portal let out a strong surge momentarily that had both him and Shuri pausing before she answered Tony, Bucky rotated his shoulder nervously, rubbing at it with his right hand. “Yes. We must be quick with it before W’Kabi realizes it’s missing.” Both her and Bucky looked over at the war rhino that stomped it’s foot angrily and shook it’s head, his small ears flapping.

Bucky wasn’t the science type - he wasn’t an idiot he idolized Harold Stark back in the day, but all this new fangled technology had him scratching his head more often than not. It seemed strange to him that the neon green tubes of glowing energy were powering the portals, yet they caused the blue electricity. Bruce and Shuri had both tried to explain nuclear power to him and it seemed like it made sense on why the world never went down the route of nuclear power over fossil fuels. It seems like a good idea at first, but ultimately the power is dangerous, it’s unstable and always emitting radioactivity. Neither of the scientists wanted to keep the portals on nuclear power forever, but for the time being it was the only thing powerful enough to activate them.

Bucky reached out and patted the rhino on it’s big leathery cheek. They had needed a live test subject and while Bucky had argued vehemently against kidnapping one of W’Kabi’s beasts no one really wins in an argument against the Princess of Wakanda. He led the beast carefully to the portal that whirled softly and ominously and made the air crackle with energy around it. The war rhino snorted nervously and tried to pull itself from Bucky’s grasp.

Bucky murmured some soothing words in Xhosa that he had picked up. The rhinos eyes rolled anxiously in it’s head, the large beast shivered all over and Bucky wrapped his hand around the horn.

“Shuri, I don’t think this is going to work,” Bucky grunted, his vibranium arm whirring in strain as he held onto the war rhino.

“The last thing we need is a rampage on our end, Buck,” Steve said over the video feed, pushing his long blond hair out of his face.

“I understand that, Steve,” Bucky snipped, spitting his own longer brown hair out of his mouth from where it had gotten stuck.

Bucky turned to look over his shoulder as the doors to the lab slid open and W’Kabi and King T’Challa came storming in.

“What is happening here?” T’Challa demanded, his voice calm but his tone leaving no room for deference.

“Brother! We are about to make a scientific breakthrough! You cannot just come stomping into my lab, upsetting my test subjects!” Shuri responded sounding both excited, but also successfully chastising her brother. She was, far and none, one of the few people who could get away with it.

“That is not a test subject! That is my animal!” W’Kabi barked, striding over and reaching out to grab the rhino’s horn from Bucky.

W’Kabi’s sudden appearance from out of the rhino’s line of sight startled the beast and it stomped its front feet and shook its head viciously. Bucky lost his footing in an attempt to not be gored by the animal’s horn and felt himself tumbling backwards. It was as if time slowed down, the crackling of the energy licking at his skin, the taste of battery acid on his tongue. He watched the horrified expressions of the people who had given him safe haven, his mind, and a home as he fell backwards into the portal. The last thing he registered before a searing pain up his left shoulder and the blinding white light, was Steve yelling through the television screen.

~*~

You stomped through the long underbrush, the sharp blades of grass slipping under your leather greaves and causing you to stumble on occasion. The familiar heavy weight of your .308 caliber hunting rifle resting in your hands, the strap rubbing reassuringly against your neck. You reach behind you to free one of your long platinum white dread locks from said strap where it was tangled and tugging irritatingly at your nape. You moved to wipe the sweat that was dripping from your brows and cheeks and pooling at the gas mask that covered the lower half of your face. The radiation just north of the main city was weaker, one bomb having fallen south-west on the other side of the Hudson River; ironically turning some place called Great Peace into a giant nuclear crater, and the other much more North in the upper state. The mask, despite being unnecessary, was basically a security blanket out here in the wastes.

You had a certain reassurance of safety, baring the mark of a Transporter openly; the two intersected triangles tattooed in thick black lines on your left shoulder. It was in poor taste to kill a transporter, everyone needed the help of one at one time or another and the job was fairly dangerous so people weren’t lining up to pick up the mantle. You still didn’t want people to see too much of your face, with every job came enemies and you liked being able to sleep at night.  

Not too many people traveled out into No Man’s Land these days, the ghost stories of large mutated Yao Guai and Deathclaws in the parks and the Super Mutants and their hounds crowding the buildings were enough to keep most of the common scavvers and raiders at bay. You, however, knew of a large abandoned compound out here and had been paid in quite a handsomely large amount of caps to come out and collect a rifle that was rumored to have been stored there from before the bombs dropped. You were known around the area for being a reliable transporter, whether it was goods or people you were able to get in, get what you needed, and get everything out safely and delivered to where it needed to go.

You scoffed to yourself. No Man’s Land should be afraid of you, you were the ghost story. You looked out a few feet ahead of you to where your dog weaved in the grass, the tip of his tail the only way you could physically see him. You whistled soft and low for him to slow down and come back to your heels which he did instantly, ears perked up and pink tongue lolling out the side.

“Stay close, boy,” you murmur, repositioning your grip on your gun. You had named her Lucky Lucy; Lucy because that was the name that had been etched into the wooden stock with a blade and Lucky because you had yet to miss your shot with her, she kept you alive and kept you safe ever since the day you won her off of some drunkard back in New Vegas. The dog, on the other hand, adopted you. He had been traveling with a caravan that had passed you by a few months back and the dog wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Dogmeat belongs to no one, he chooses who to follow. Safe travels,” was all the caravan owner had said, her and her two guards waving them off with well wishes. He had been a fine companion since that day, followed orders like a well trained soldier but more observant than a hawk. You could swear Dogmeat could understand every word you said and if you were being completely honest it was nice to have some company when you weren’t transporting people.

As the two of you crested the hill you checked the small computer attached to your wrist, the Pip-Boy 3000 Mark IV lighting up with neon green text. You felt the pull against the veins of your wrist as it drew blood to check your vitals and you turned the knob to scan your inventory, you were pretty good at keeping your bullet count in your head but the read that it pulled on your backpack was always helpful to have as a backup. You flipped the knob one more time to pull up your region map, you noted the location that your client marked on your map and tagged it at 2 kilometers away. You pulled a bottle of purified water from your pack, it was a luxury out here in the wastes, but it was hot and muggy out today and Dogmeat was panting too heavily next to you. You unclipped your gas mask and took a large gulp and then held it out for Dogmeat, tipping the crystal clear water down his tongue. You allowed yourself to enjoy a few inhales of cool, fresh air before snapping your mask back in place.

Chucking the empty bottle out into the grass you knelt down and raised your scope to your right eye. Adjusting the focus you slowly swept your gaze across the park, freezing at each statue to make sure it was actually a statue. You frowned slightly as you noticed one statue had a corpse chained to it, the flesh blistered and rotten, all the good bits chewed out by birds. It looked old so you were hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with whoever killed the poor sucker. You found the building you were looking for ‘War Memorial Park’ still written on the side of the building in flaking paint, the door looked to be rotten on the hinges and that had you frowning in concern. You hoped no one had managed to loot the place already. Adjusting the zoom on your scope you noticed shadows passing around inside the building under the door, you sighed and lowered your gun, threw your pack next to you and settled onto your stomach before readjusting the scope back to your eye and focusing on the building again. You would have to wait to see if anyone went in or out, maybe if you were lucky it would just be a cluster of radroaches. Dogmeat huffed and laid down next to you, ears lowered and tail still, he knew when it was time to be quiet.

A few hours of watching the doorway with no action had you getting to your knees with a soft groan, your muscles stiff from lying on the hard ground. You blinked a few times to readjust your vision and pulled your backpack back on. Clicking your tongue twice to Dogmeat you started the decent down the hill, the german shepherd close on your heels. When you were only a kilometer away from the building you felt a shift in the air, it became almost stagnant and the cicadas stopped humming, an electric taste like acid sat heavy on your tongue and you froze. Dogmeat whined low next to you, his upper lip pulled up in a silent snarl and his haunches raised. The Geiger counter attached to your Pip-Boy started clicking wildly.

You were going to raise your gun to your eye again, but suddenly a bright blue light appeared right in front of the building and got bigger and bigger, lightning snapping out around it; your Geiger counter flared erratically the needle pointing to numbers too high for comfort. The door to the building flung open and an emaciated, bald man stepped out swinging a pool cue at the ball of light. You huffed and quirked an eyebrow, that answers your question on squatters or radroaches. You were caught by surprise by a glint of metal that shot out of the light, grabbing the raiders pool cue and snapping it in half. You quickly raised your gun to your eye and focused the cross hairs on the raider, taking note of the man with the long brown hair and metal arm that stepped out of the blue orb. Taking a deep breath you released the air slowly and squeezed the trigger, your bullet bursting the raiders head like a melon. The strange man lurched away and swung his head in your direction. You squinted, knowing that realistically he shouldn’t be able to see you from this distance as you swung your barrel to the doorway where a woman with a shaved mohawk came out errantly spraying bullets from a little pipe pistol at the brown haired man who raised his arm defensively to block. With another breath and a squeeze of the trigger her brains were painting the side of the wall as well.

You watched through your scope as the man stared directly at your position and raised his hands in the air as the blue electric orb vanished. As soon as the orb was gone your Geiger counter silenced, the needle dropping back to normal. You turned a dial and felt the pull on your wrist once more as it took a reading of your radiation exposure and noted that you didn’t get exposed to enough to be concerned. Dogmeat’s ears perked up and he immediately stood up and started at a lope down the hill to the man.

“Dogmeat!” you hissed and rolled your eyes. You trusted the canines judgment so you lowered your rifle and stood slowly. Following after your four-legged companion, you watched as the dog beat you to the man and skidded to a stop at the man’s feet, sitting back on his rump and banging his tail into the ground so hard in excitement that it was kicking up little clouds of dust.

You took the time to take in the appearance of the man in front of you as you walked to him, dark blue jacket with the left sleeve missing to give room to the dark and gold glint of the his metal arm. Chestnut hair down to his shoulders, his eyes a pale blue but the skin around them dark and swollen while the rest of his skin was pale. He was wearing some sort of military like pants and combat boots, you could see the bulge of at least four knives and he had an empty pistol holster strapped to his thigh. As you got closer to him you reached up and unclipped the buckles to your mask, letting it fall to the side and allowing you to take a gulp of cool air.

“This isn’t the place to be running around without your gun,” you comment motioning to his empty thigh holster, perching Lucy on your hip, nose pointed to the ground.

The man eyed you carefully, his gaze going from your sniper rifle to your face to the throwing knives along your belt to the 10mm strapped to your right thigh. He was sizing you up the exact same you had him and it at least told you he wasn’t an idiot. However, his eyes lingered too long on your face and you squinted at him in a way you hoped was intimidating. You knew your appearance could be off putting, you were in a bar fight back when you were an early teen and had taken a broken bottle to the left side of your face. The scar roped from your hairline, across your left eye, down to your left ear. Moira Brown, an eccentric trader, inventor, and survival novelist, had happily taken it upon herself to fit your left eye with a camera sensor from an old android part she had come across. The soft orange glow it emitted was often enough to shake most people, but the man just seemed to take note of it and move on. You supposed the man with a tin can for an arm couldn’t really judge.

“Left it at home,” he said slowly, his voice as smooth as velvet. You looked at him strangely, maybe he was an idiot. Everyone knows not to leave your house without your gun if you were lucky enough to have one.

“Well, you better grab that bitch’s pistol. I’d check it over real quick first, those modified pipe pistols have a chance of misfiring. Lucky for you she was probably high on Jet and couldn’t aim worth a damn,” you walked over to the corpses of the raiders and immediately started rifling through their pockets. You came out with about ten caps and an inhaler that still had a full dosage of Jet, you tossed it all in your backpack with the plan to sell the Jet to The King the next time you passed through Brooklyn.

You looked over your shoulder at the man who was staring at the wall of the building.

“Are we really in Yonkers? This isn’t New York, is it?” he asked hoarsely, whipping around and his eyes stopping on a battered statue of a soldier a few yards away.

“I mean, that’s what it used to be called I think. Everyone mostly calls it No Man’s Land. We got the big cemetery and fields to the north-east if that helps, but they’re overrun with ghouls so I’d avoid it. Are you not from here?”

You watched Dogmeat whine at the man’s heels and he subconsciously reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears as he looked around with a slack jaw. You rolled your eyes and gave a sharp whistle causing Dogmeat to look over at you with a cocked head. You jerked your head towards the building.

“Come on, let’s see if they got what we came for,” you ordered and Dogmeat immediately stood and rushed inside, tail wagging enthusiastically.

You turned to follow when you felt the man’s flesh hand on your shoulder. You jerked out of his grip and whirled around to him, throwing knife already in your hand. He had his hands up and he was looking at you with panic in his eyes.

“That’s the thing. I am from here, but here is not like this,” the man explained.

You sighed and put the knife back in your belt. “Listen…”

“Bucky.”

“Bucky? Really? Okay. I’m Y/N. Listen, Bucky. This, all of this, has been like this for two hundred years,” You explained looking at him like he was crazy. You assumed he must be taking Psycho or overdoing it on the NukaQuartz.

“Excuse me?” Bucky asked dumbly, blinking quickly at you.

“Yeah, well. The bombs fell in 2077, right? You’ve heard about that I’m sure, big nuclear war, fucked up the world, left us looking like this only more glowy and crispy? Well, here is where we sit after two hundred years of nuclear apocalypse.”

Dogmeat barked from inside the building and you shook your head at Bucky before turning from him, kicking the pipe pistol his way as you passed it. Poor guy was going to end up dead out here in the wastes. Stepping into the building your nose crinkled in distaste, it smelled of body odor and bile, used Jet cartridges littered the floor. You kicked them aside with your boots as you made your way, Lucky Lucy in hand, to where you heard another one of Dogmeat’s urgent barks.

You turned your head to look over your shoulder as you saw the man follow you in, pipe pistol in hand as he counted the bullets still left in the clip. You reached in your backpack and pulled out a full clip of .38 ammo and tossed it to him. You squinted your eyes at the jerky movement of his arm as he reached out to catch the clip, it seemed to be paining him as every time it clicked or whirred he would flinch and rub at his shoulder where you assumed the seam from flesh to metal was.

“Are you telling me that it’s 2277 right now?” he asked you gruffly, disbelief tinged with fear in his voice.

“What year did you think it was?” you asked, leading with the barrel of your gun around the corner even though you knew that if there was an enemy Dogmeat would be making much different noises.

Dogmeat was standing at a dead end of the hallway, his nose pointing to a bookshelf as he barked once more at you. You walked over to him and pushed some of the debris out of the way, a red button was inlaid into the back of the bookshelf.

“Well, when I was thrown into a portal it was 2018,” he answered you. You looked back at him with a raised eyebrow and pressed the button, the wall making the dead end sliding open and moving out of the way to reveal a staircase descending into a cold and clammy basement.

“That sounds like a hell of a trip.” You reply with a snicker and start walking down the stairs. “What were you doing? Huffing Jet? Injecting Psycho? Chugging Hydra?”

You suddenly found yourself being slammed into the wall, a metal forearm pressed against your throat and the pipe pistol pressed against your temple. “What do you know about Hydra?” the man growled at you.

You smirked and raised your chin at him. “Hydra addict, huh? Listen, Bucky, put the gun down and I’ll take you to a guy that can get you your fix.” You were used to seeing the sweat soaked panic that most Hydra withdraws caused, the bloodshot eyes and the too sweet breath. This guy had none of that, instead he reeked of fear and anger. His body tensed as his arm let out another cry of protest, but his brows knitted together in confusion at your words.

“Addict? I’m not a drug addict. The organization Hydra, what do you know about them?” he demanded, pushing the barrel of the gun harder into the side of your head.

“Organization? Buddy. I’ve been all over this wasteland of a country and there is no organization called Hydra. It’s just some drug Caesar’s Legion invented out in the Mojave and it found it’s away around the caravan traders,” you explained feeling safe enough to raise a hand and push the gun away from your face. “And what did I say about those things misfiring? Point it somewhere else you crazy brick wall.”

Bucky looked at you hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe you, before stepping away and mumbling an apology. You scoffed at him and rubbed the side of your neck before readjusting your gun in your hand, sending him a glare, and returning to your descent behind Dogmeat who had been patiently watching the whole interaction from the bottom of the stairs.

“Thanks for the back up you oaf,” you grumbled at him. He barked at you happily and trotted along beside you as you made your way down the dark hallway. You were keenly aware of Bucky at your back, even though you couldn’t hear his footfalls which you found relatively impressive due to his size.

“I hear breathing in the room to the right,” he whispered from behind you and you move Lucy to the holster on your back, pulling the 10mm out of the holster on your thigh and cocking it.

You pursed your lips, but didn’t bother to ask how he could see down the dark hallway to be able to see a room on the right, or how he could hear breathing that far away. You were fairly certain though that from the amount of dust on the bookshelf and how the doorway groaned when you opened it that it had been shut for a long time and therefore the only thing down here making noises would be ghouls.

Keeping your left shoulder close to the wall, you held your gun up pointing to the right. You rounded the corner and immediately spotted the ghoul, hunched down facing the far corner its back to you. You took a moment to scan the room, not seeing another one before you released two shots into the ghouls back. It stood and groaned for a moment, turning to face the two of you with it’s jaw slack in a silent scream before it collapsed to the ground - a .38 bullet from Bucky’s pipe pistol lodged right between it’s eyes.

Dogmeat barked sharply and you turned to your left to point down the hallway, three shots fired in rapid succession from Bucky’s gun before you heard the shambling of at least three more ghouls.

You slid your body around into the room on the right and poked out around the corner, landing a bullet in the head of the ghoul behind the one Bucky dropped. And then the third one came into focus, the other three had been wearing rotting and shredded civilian clothing, but this fucker was wearing full combat armor with a helmet, SECURITY in blaze yellow across its Kevlar vest. The red angry flesh hanging limply from its bones and one eye dangled from it’s socket held on with merely its optical nerve. You immediately dropped the aim on your gun and fired four rounds into it’s right leg, the bullets carving clean through and shredding the limb from its body, causing it to crumple to the ground.

“What the fuck are these things? Zombies?” Bucky asked disgustedly in disbelief. You could hear how shaken he was and if there was any truth to his 2018 portal story it was pretty understandable.

“Ghouls. People who got the worst of radiation and went feral. Some ghouls keep their humanity, look just as monstrous, but nice enough folk most of the time.” You walked over and stepped over the angry ghoul so you were behind it. You kicked the helmet from it’s head and placed your pistol against the back of it’s skull, pulling the trigger. The ghoul stopped moving and you wiped the back splatter of blood and viscera from your face with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Do me a favor and see if there’s anything worth scavenging in that room, I’m gonna check this one on the left.” You left Bucky to the room on the right and took in the room you claimed.

Two desks sat with computers on them. One was burnt out, but the other seemed to be hooked up to a generator, the generator under the desk seemed to also be powering a safe against the wall. Pressing the space bar to wake up the computer you determined that nothing of importance was left over. A file for park events and brochures and an email from the parks department head about some accident involving a real gun at a war reenactment were the only things that were there. Although the last email confirmed that said gun was being kept in the safe until the authorities could come and pick it up, all you could do was hope it was still in there. You turned to the safe and sighed, digging in your pockets you pulled out a small box of bobby pins and a screw driver.

That was how Bucky found you, cussing a wall safe with three busted bobby pins sitting on the desk behind you.

“Having troubles?” he asked nonchalantly as he walked up behind you. You took a moment now that he was close enough to smell the air around him.

“You smell strange,” you comment just as airily, tongue poking out between your teeth as you tried to not break a fourth bobby pin.

“I’m pretty sure what you’re smelling on me is soap.” He replied and held up his hand. “Move it two clicks to the left.”

You looked back at him and blinked before turning back to the safe and doing as he instructed. Slowly turning the screwdriver with the lock you frowned when it popped open. “Okay, explain your super hearing.” You demanded and you pulled out handfuls of wrapped pre-war money and tossed them on the desk.

“You just did. It’s super. I’m sort of enhanced,” Bucky said eying the money you were carelessly tossing aside.

You came out holding an elegantly carved hunting rifle with a 4 inch bayonet on the end. You opened the chamber and hummed eight .50 caliber bullets already loaded in it. You attached it to the free back holster and raised an eyebrow at Bucky who was scoping out the new weapon.

“Sorry, it already has a buyer. I’ll let you keep anything you found in that other room, though,” you commented pointing at his thigh holster which was housing a brand new .44 magnum revolver.

“It didn’t have any ammo,” Bucky explained. You reached into your pack and pulled out a little box with 20 bullets and handed them to him.

You eyed him up carefully as he took them from you with gratitude and loaded the revolver. “Listen. I don’t know if you’re crazy or not, but you held yourself okay against the ghouls and I always enjoy a raider getting his ass handed to him. If you want to you can come with me to the Docks, Duke can get you anywhere you need to go on one of his boats. If you’re gonna come with me, though, you’re going to have to explain this enhanced crap.”

Bucky assessed you in return and licked his lips. “Which docks are you talkin’ about, doll?”

“Fuck. What was the borough called in pre-war times. Stanley Island?”

“Staten? Staten Island? You gotta a buddy that runs the docks on Staten Island?”

“No. He runs Staten Island,” you said flippantly and headed back to the wastes. Bucky made a noise of disbelief behind you for probably the hundredth time since you’ve met him, but he followed along. Dogmeat trotted a figure eight around you and Bucky happily, glad to have created a partnership. You shook your head and rolled your eyes at the dog as you reached down to clasp your gas mask back on.

“You seem to be handling the whole ‘fallen through a portal into another dimension’ thing pretty well,” you comment, your voice slightly muffled from the rubber. You stomped easily through the long underbrush, Dogmeat’s tail peeking out the top of the grass.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been in a gun fight against aliens with a talking raccoon and a tree going through puberty. Eventually you stop being surprised,” came the dry answer behind you.

You let out a bark of laughter and looked back over your shoulder at him with an eyebrow raised in disbelief. He smirked and shrugged, but there was no sign of jest in his expression or tone. This was going to be a whole new kind of adventure.

[vacationcalendar]

8/10/21

Wait, I missed 2 days? Ah fuck. You know what, let’s not focus on it. I don’t really feel like going full journal-mode today. Suffice it to say the winddown from doing WEED (and the socializing from that 5k most likely...) was much bigger than I was hoping it would be. And I might just be in the middle of an existential crisis! Moving on!

Hmm, so what to go over today. I think it’s high time we put some effort into something we care about. Writing good. Writing goodly. I was gonna say the novel, which I have to commit to calling something. I keep forgetting I was going to settle on The Franz Lion like almost a month ago. I do want to do that. So let’s. Ok, I wanted to write like a poem or something today as well. Or rather, I wanted to write a poem like 3 days ago and then fell into a K-hole. I know that’s not the proper usage of the term K-hole, but it’s such a great phrase, and who the hell is using ketamine these days? We’re wasting K-hole as a culture. So I’m gonna do my part to fix that. I remember some indie artist was being interviewed (if memory serves, she was being interviewed by Matt Besser for an Improv4humans episode. This is the exact reason I like podcasts by the way. Matt Besser is a fundamentally interesting person and was given, through the medium of podcasting, free reign over what to talk about. And he chose to dig into an indie artist’s catalog that largely covered depression, so he could turn around and do improv comedy about it. The end. That idea was completely solipsistic, if I’m using that word correctly. Ok I checked, I did not. I just meant that this creative endeavor existed entirely for its own sake, which as far as I can tell does not have its own word), and she calls the feeling I’m describing as going on a journey to the center of the earth. I always liked that, but like, we can get that down to one word for sure. K-hole. I admit I can see problems with that; maybe we call it like a natural K-hole or something like that. Put a pin in this.

So a poem and maybe some free writing centered around TFL (handy!). Maybe we can do both at once here.

We all die once.  We are born as many times as we need.

Not a poem, but this is the critical thesis of The Franz Lion. My instincts tell me this is more attached to the ship in the novel itself, but that theme should be present throughout the whole story if I can manage it. What other themes do I need to keep with me?

--------

Ok I left for over an hour, what’d I miss? Oh, wait! Let’s make it an hour and five minutes. lemme do laundry........ Ok. Fuck that is so easy, I should have the cleanest clothes, it’s too easy not too, man. I mean, the bedsheet is its own thing, that doesn’t count. Clothes and pillow cases and towels, forget it. Ok, let’s jam dude.

Theming attached to the Franz Lion. Birth, or rather rebirth by means of leaving an old life behind in search of a new one. I think an interesting topic I can go into will definitely be my personal style of leaving behind old things/relationships to discover new ones; even when the old ones were nice. I think that personality is currently underrepresented in culture. Moving on from a close friend, because you are a rolling stone, and that isn’t a bad thing. To never stop exploring the world is to never stop learning, and that might be the fundamental goal of the human experience. Never stop learning. This is what to me makes Weaver a compelling main character. At his core he is a learner. That’s the center bubble of the web flow chart. He wants to learn about everything. He devours the lore of this world voraciously enough to satisfy the equally curious readers, and hopefully in a way that helps move the less interested readers along with him. This is what can keep him on the ship longer than a standard “hero” type would want to. He isn’t forced into taking any political position on the ship, and while he suspects he will choose to change things soon, he’s more interested in understanding it more than he is impacting it. Like, Luke Skywalker joins the rebellion second one of the Star Wars because that’s the point; the empire is pure evil. They are just big strong bad guys that need to be risen up against, despite the odds. This is a different story. It may be hinted at from time to time that there will be a powerful act of “darkness” (destruction?) that may come into the foray of every day life, but it’s not so clear what the likelihood of that is or even if it’s that bad at all. Weaver will see as many wretched people as he will compelling characters. There will be no uber-worthy side to take up arms with and help. He’ll have to decide for himself how much conflict he’s willing to endure.

And I think Weaver’s curiosity should be the ultimate reason he stays with Kat like he does. Kat is an enigma. Kat holds so many answers that Weaver so desperately wants to uncover, and reveals nothing. Kat’s existence on the ship means so many things: What does a champion do? What exactly are the makings of a champion, could I be one? What is your responsibility when you have the power to make a difference? And then Kat’s inner darkness keeps Weaver around: What is so hard about living life? What does failure really mean? Who is this person I’m looking at right now? Weaver knows that knowledge can conquer fear, and he’s naturally drawn to trying to best understand the world around him, so why can’t he help Kat? What piece of information is he trying to find out to help fix this problem? It seems by all accounts that Kat doesn’t WANT to get better, but then why doesn’t she leave. It’s like the act of trying to help is the main source of the pain she’s feeling, but she doesn’t have the strength to abandon him/the ship. Is he torturing her? But he’s seen her come alive before. Like she’s escaped her mind and is running around like a refugee. 

Now I’m thinking Weaver should have a stronger reason to stay attached to Kat. Looking at it now, I think I’d wander down a path that more resembles real life, where Kat runs out of good will and gets left behind, left to her own devices as a last ditch attempt to bring her into the working world. I don’t want to do that in the book, necessarily. I don’t have Kat as the POV character, and I don’t have Kat as the fundamentally curious one constantly asking what the fuck is wrong with her. That book would just be too hard to write. And I wouldn’t want to read it anyway. So Weaver should stick with it as long as he can, hopefully til the end of the story or whatever. So currently, he stays with her because he at first is mezmerized by her. She’s a champion! A legendary warrior, and in this world, fighting is an art. Watching a master etherist(? gotta pick out some more vocab...) is like watching a sunset. It’s the closest you can get to objective beauty. And as someone who just found out he’s an etherist as well, this is his only source of ethereal knowledge. It’s understood relatively quickly in the book that the way champions work makes it more than likely that Weaver will become the Wind Champion at some point in his ethery journey-

NOTE: elements attune to people, not the other way around, so as long as people can muster ethereal attunement to an element, that element will have a champion that sort of represents the element. It’s like the queen on a chess board. Nations will have a King, but the champion is the one with the agency. Since for all the crew knows, Weaver is an ethereal breed of one, he will become the champion of Wind by default, once he possesses the power to channel the element properly. The more I think about it, the more I think it’s not SO MUCH a random process that decides the champion; like Nature selects the champion and then nation’s send out “oracles” or something to find it. Nature more or less identifies the champion by flowing through the worthiest candidate when the time to select a champion occurs. Like our champions in the book weren’t decided by some ironic fate that will weave them together in a compelling way. They are literally the most innately talented at the time of selection. It would be like the universe selecting the most talented violinist one day. We’d have a couple guesses and they’d probably all be wrong, but the universe wouldn’t pick someone surprising; it would pick someone who has found the violin as an artform and plays well. But displaying talent is external and having talent is internal. Maybe it’s a bit like lightning picking the best path from the clouds to the earth. It moves everywhere seemingly randomly but eventually it decides where to strike and it’s through the best conduit in the area. And that’s guaranteed. It starts from a place that we can’t know where it will strike, but it never strikes somewhere surprising. So the crew deduces quickly on that having the one and only Windy-billy on the planet means the angry winds (I kinda want a fun word for Earth in this story, put a pin in that) of this planet will flow through him the moment he could allow it. 

It’s why Captain Ettis would move heaven and earth to teach Weaver in the first place. But it’s also the exact reason Weaver is magnetized to Kat. She is the worthiest Light etherist, objectively; but she seemingly has no ambition. Kat frustrates Weaver and the Captain and everyone almost by design, and they can’t wrap their heads around it. So it seems to me like the frustration that *depression* will lay onto the cast should factor into the progression of the plot. Like the amazing promise that is the company of Kat (last name here ;P) is never ever delivered upon and that should bring them to a crossroads. My the crew of the Franz Lion abandons her and looks for a new way to get Weaver attuned to the Wind in some way. I know the first thing they should want to try is to look for old books about Wind Ethery (I don’t know how hard to make this yet. It could be relatively simple, but it doesn’t do the trick for Weaver, because that’s not what Wind books were meant for. Or it could be like highly illegal to possess Wind paraphernalia, and the book would be super helpful, it’s just the act of procuring a book would be the struggle. That honestly does not sound as interesting to me, but I can see how that would help center the narrative a bit. The reader knows what to be looking for. hmmm...), but once Kat comes along, they see a real chance to achieve their original goal, even if they are keeping Kat on board at their own peril. That’s honestly a perfect reason to want to leave Kat behind once she proves unreliable as a resource for Weaver. But when the Franz Lion sails off, this is where I want Weaver to stay with Kat. So why would he do that? Does he feel like he’d rather be with her, he’s rather help her, than help get himself to champion status? Maybe seeing her suffer shows him that being a champion is not some end-all be-all reward like he once thought. I think it would be really helpful for the story is there was some external force that coincided with Weaver’s choice to stay. So if Weaver leaving the ship= choosing Kat’s longterm success over his shortterm success (he can always become the champion later, it’s a destiny). Ok, here’s my first thought. War has been declared between the Light Kingdom and someone else (multiple kingdom’s maybe?). Word has gotten out that the champion of Light has disappeared, and -

NOTE: Couple things for world building. I think the kingdom’s should be pretty straightforward. There is the main city where the capital is. Then there is the Nation’s territory. Everyone operates more like a confederacy. Each city has its own shit under control. But the kingdom collects taxes and shit (look into this maybe O_O) and they can conscript soldiers in times of war. Also in the book, the seven (six, plus Weaver) champions have all been chosen within the same year; an unheard of event. New champions are only chosen when the former champion passes away. So for the first time in history (documented history), the champions are all green and untested. So some of the more ambitious champions have taken this as a major opportunity to further establish their empires, I guess. I think battle and territory expansion is a little easier to come upon in this world than my instincts tell me should be happening. The geo-political culture is far from solved in this world, as would be any world at this technological stage (check out a game of Civ VI or something).

The light champion is AWOL and the Aqua Nation and Erd Nation have champions that are poised to demonstrate their strength. This is a surprise to few; 7 new champions in one year has made the world very volatile. I think there might be room for some more dramatic tension by revealing just how Machiavellian the Aqua Champion is. Like he isn’t just going to war on the Light/Aqua border, he wants to perform a second Abandonment. 

NOTE: “The Abandonment” (name subject to change) is what the world says to refer to the infamous moment in history where the world lost the ability to commune with the wind. A lot of people mourn the abandonment, like one would mourn losing their sense of smell. We have moved away from our oldest home. Our place in nature is turning grayer before our very eyes. But unsurprisingly, The (great?) Abandonment (of the Wind?) had many proponents. That’s why it happened in the first place. 7 different nations were left to share the resources and land of the world and champions would always defend their homes well enough to keep every kingdom relatively large and unmoored. The abandonment was only possible in the first place because a terrifying regime powered by an unprecedentedly strong champion and a seemingly psychotic king challenged the entire world for supremacy. The other 6 nations for the first and only time rose up together to push back and defeat the armies of the Wind nation. The king and his champion had many opportunities to surrender and end the war peacefully, but they fought tooth and nail until the very last moment, which led to their complete obliteration. Once the forces of wind were completed eradicated, the 6 nations found themselves looking at an interesting choice. The number of Wind etherists were so few, and the land they occupied was so small, the other nations would be able to enact a complete takeover of their nation. There were talks of genocide, and as unthinkable as it sounded, executing this process would kill less than a 50th of the people that had already died in this war. The crimes of the Wind Nation were heinous enough to deserve a punishment like this one, and in reality a lot of people were scared that a second champion would emerge from the remnant of the nation soon, and they might try to squirm out of the checkmate they’d been placed in. This urgency to act and the outrage from the rest of the world let the power-hungry leaders fall to their worst instincts: splitting the earth 6 ways was a hell of a lot better than 7 ways. So the elemental coalition army executed its prisoners and put all the women and children in prison camps. They marked them all a Wind children and moved them all around the world in camps overseen by each Nation. They lived out the remainder of their lives as second class citizens, unable to practice or even mention ethery, and unable to have children. The final act of eradication lasted one lifetime and needed only a fleeting apathy to execute.

Hmm, now I’m realizing I already have the ivories. People with no ethery, no communion with nature. They either could be the product of the eradicated Windys, or they could merge with the Windys. That makes more sense; to go from no Ivories to lots of Ivories, just because of the cleansing of Windys, doesn’t really work. You can’t strip a people of their natural connection to the elements like that. I think I should leave any Windys left after the war to be branded Windys (although I don’t like the brand idea that much, brands are so automatically associated with Jews, and the Windys already started out like a pseudo Nazi party. I do think their motivations will be a lot more “world domination”-y than the Facism/genocide stuff)

How bout this? The world coalition captured every Windy, then once the next champion emerged they picked an agreed upon location to jail him for life. So they’d always know where the wind champion was. And he wasn’t as strong or as crazy as the last one, so he went away without incident. Then all the remaining Windy citizens were broken up into little groups and carted off to ivory settlements all over the world. They could live their lives normally like the ivory folk under the promise to never perform or teach wind ethery ever, under penalty of death. The land that belonged to the Wind Nation was divided up among the other nations. Since it wasn’t right in the middle of everything, compromises were made. Certain Nations got bigger shares of the land by giving up land that already belonged to their kingdom. Like the Light kingdom got a big piece of the Wind nation in exchange for giving up part of their border to the Fire Kingdom, since the Fire Kingdom was so far away from the Wind Kingdom. This part was very complicated and took a long time, and ensured that no Kingdom was particularly satisfied or allied with anyone anymore. Think world war 1 leading to world war 2 MINUS THE FACISM. 

A bunch of survivors obviously saw it to be very important to keep Wind ethery alive and tried to teach it to their children in secret. All the books and libraries etc. in the Wind Kingdom were destroyed. Some people tried to recreate ethery books on their own; they’d hide them in their homes. But Soldiers of each kingdom were obviously tasked with the finding and destroying of these sorts of practices. And you were instantly executed and made an example of in your town. And you can imagine certain kingdoms were less tolerant than others. Taking part in this time in history would place your sympathies with the wind people. Dragged into global conflict by their mad king and his calamitous champion. And now your very essence is being scrubbed from history before your eyes. It’s an exceedingly wretched time to bear witness to. But this was maybe 3 entire generations removed from our current setting.

So yeah, The Abandonment was a huge deal. Many people still mourn this time in the world’s history. But so many more feel an unearned sense of freedom from it. Freedom from the scourge of tyranny. Freedom to live out their wonderful lives as the true ethereal race. If only we could abandon the other 5 natural abominations. People like them rather enjoyed how “honest” and “friendly” the wind felt without a ugly face hiding behind it. Surely if the world were to do without humans unnatural handling of nature, it would be a better place to live. Their element notwithstanding of course. People are fucking idiots. This viewpoint is meant to be instantly hated by the reader, and at the same time being instantly understood, and the reader feels no compulsion to reason with this viewpoint. It’s all too familiar.

At the same time, it leaves a lot of room to explore an actual thought. If humans could bend nature to our whim, should we? Isn’t that what we’re doing right now in the real world? Stealing water and wind and rock to make electricity and heat? Moving everything around for the sake of conveniencing ourselves? Surely the goal of a humanity that could move the world around as it wanted would be to find it’s natural equilibrium.  People in the book say the wind is sad now that it was no way to talk to us. But is it actually sad? Or are we just deciding what we want the world to look like?  If the wind could really talk, it should incumbent on us to listen. I think that should come into play when you see how industrious the ivories are. They have no communal channel with the elements, and they’re begun to take off down the path of industry. It’s early but we get some hints that they seem to be on the path towards the modern day humans of Earth. And modern humanity is nothing if not a cautionary tale of find your own balance with nature. Someone, maybe Weaver should come to understand that we need to wield our ethereal power as SERVANTS not MASTERS. Like how Jesus said to love thy neighbor, as a servant. you get it. That seems like it’s a big enough hook to hang a bit of the plot onto at some point down the road.

Where was I? Oh my god, the plot. Like 2 thousand words later. Jesus.

So once word breaks out that the Light Kingdom is going to war, and it look sbad for them, Kat let’s slip that her new plan is to kill herself. She would be doing a great service to her country, giving them a new champion in her stead, and she can’t handle being around anymore anyway. The weight of her responsibility to be great has crushed her beyond her capacity. So once she’s been kicked off TFL, Weaver follows her. (again, WHY does he follow her? I don’t *love* the idea that he follows her as a way of being there to stop her from killing herself, but that checks out logistically) Weaver can tell something is wrong and he doesn’t want to lose her. He’s like 17 so it feels extremely natural that he has worked himself up to a point of loving Kat, as a teenager is able to do. So when she turns to this dark point, she has exhausted almost all of the good will around her, and Weaver is thoroughly perplexed by her. She bears an enigmatic quality (I wanted to say that sentence like 3 hours ago... lol). He clearly has found it difficult to like her, but he just can’t help himself. And when he finds out she’s planning to kill herself (this is honestly a perfect story beat. It works for the plot and the theme and it is the biggest part of a story about depression you can add), he stops her. 

I think naturally because this is me writing this, I’m not going to let Weaver stick to his guns to fervently about preventing a suicide. There are a lot of questions that are raised by this. How much damage has this act done to the light kingdom? Does Weaver have a duty to bring Kat to “fighting shape”? Is it ok that Kat has failed to protect her kingdom? Suicide was the easy way out, can Weaver do the hard work for Kat? He doesn’t have control here. 

Wow, this is a heavy scene. I’m letting it wash over me right now and it’s making me get a little teary. This will be a huge part of this book, I’m just realizing. And mechanically it fits perfectly. What part of the book would this be? I can literally see this as a part of the book people would try and skip over as they read it again. Like, they’d look it up and people online would say go to page 347 to pick back up after this scene had subsided. Now that we’re talking about this I know another part I have to include if I want to do this right, is I have to include the death of the King in the Light Kingdom (I’ll give him a name obviously). It’s one of the biggest emotional arcs I can possibly imagine for Kat, and it needs to happen early enough to let her deal with it throughout her story. The initial spiral. The DABDA, I suppose. Whenever I imagine myself going through grieving, especially 10 years ago, I’d jump to Depression and rot there for the rest of my life. But I know that’s impossible. But I also know that DABDA is natural and healthy, and Kat is not healthy. It will look different for her and it will not be fast.

This is interesting. The more I dream up stuff to include in the book, the more I had interesting philosophical quandries, and the less I think of compelling action sequences. The longer I live, the further the balance shifts it seems. I need to make sure I’m keeping in mind a reason why you’d pick up this book in the first place. Something cool has to happen right?

I do think the first sequence in the book is cool. A terrorist attack where Weaver ends up stowing away on a pirate ship, then being captured and nearly executed; only to be saved by the possibility that he might be someone very special, if he works hard. That’s a fine start. Then there’s the tale of the White Witch. That’s also cool. What else? Kat’s entrance aboard TFL, and Kat sinks those two ships. I don’t see why any of that cool action needs to be cut. And every moment in between can be getting to know the crew and this world. Certainly green seas and the overwhelming force of the “navy” (The Aqua military should have a name like that) is compelling. I’m starting to think also that Weaver is kept at arm’s length of the specific plans of Captain Ettis. One, he doesn’t know anything anyways. Why would going to Landwing matter to him or not? And if we just keep ourselves concerned about the story through Weaver’s eyes, we don’t have to sweat ALL the details right away. JK Rowling didn’t worry about the Deathly Hallows in the sorcerer’s stone. I don’t think she worried about shit. Now I’m thinking again about the suicide scene. I have to be very careful about that thing. That’s what can make my book go from fun YA action adventure, to ADULT action adventure. I think I need to make sure that the leading idea to kill herself has to come from the selfless place of trying to be helpful to her people. She doesn’t know how to be a champion to her people. She doesn’t know how to help; but she can think of one way. To be honest, she’d thought about it for a long time now. If she were to die, the light would find a new champion. One who didn’t run away. One who wasn’t too cowardly to fight for something greater than herself. 

It can’t go the other way, where she’s like I can’t endure the pain that comes with living anymore, and actually I’ll be helping out along the way. I’m a coward, a wretched monster that doesn’t belong here. I need to go home, and when I do my family will be able to go on without me and be ok. They don’t realize that keeping me around is only hurting them. 

Do you get it? This is going to take some serious effort to get right. I think we need to leave it up to the reader to place the connection of depression and suicide on their own. Like, Kat found a noble reason to try and tap out of life, but here on Earth, people will feel like Kat sometimes even without the plot demanding it. You get it. I think we should save it for when we know a lot more about this book to write this scene though. For the sake of nuance, and I’d like to be a better writer by that point as well, haha.

Ok, I want to call it here. I’m losing track of where I am and tumblr gets super laggy when my WC gets this high. Goals for next time:

1. More vocabulary. Lock down some actual words. We can always replace them later. 2. Try to write the boat scene between Ettis and Weaver. 3. Get some details about crewmen down. It has to happen at some point.

Ok, let’s call it here. Love you, bysies <3

[tessatechaitea]

Darkstars #8

Worst homecoming theme ever.

This is the last issue of Darkstars I own. I'm a little bit sad that I own this one because this cover is poo on fire. I suspect that Past Me, much like current me, never looked at the covers of the comics as he bought them. He just saw the title and grabbed the magazine, adding it to the pile to take to the register. Usually when the cashier is ringing up my comics is the first time I'll really look at the covers and I'm not the type of person to grab the cashier's hand as they pick up a comic book to ring it up and yell, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not so fast! This comic book looks like runny diarrhea! I'm putting it back." No, I'm more the kind of person who notices how awful the comic book looks and simply lets out a nearly inaudible, haunting moan from the deepest part of that part of me my old friend Soy Rakelson would probably call a soul. I just call it the part of my brain that's going to get the skewer first when I finally decide none of this Goddamned pain is worth it anymore. Look at this fucking terrible cover. This 90s art is the kind of art that was (and often still is) hailed as dynamic by critics and fans who never seem to know the difference between "dynamic" and "posed." This doesn't look like a shot of these idiots having just finished a battle with a mechanical bull. It just looks like they stood in line with their prom photo tickets until they were waved over and told to look at the camera and smile before being hustled off the stage for the next couple's chance at a shitty memory. It's been a few days since I wrote a comic book review because I've been busy with my other project. I set up an Artificial Intelligence program to come up with new names for Xanth novels. These are some of my favorites: Centaurs Can't Masturbate The Boner Tree Titillating Minors Makes Money The Word Bosom Fifty Thousand Times in a Row No Matter How Many Naked Women are Described, Never Mention Their Genitals Whoops! That Scene Was Too Sexy In This One, A Dragon Fucks a Duck The Human Nickelpede Seriously Though. They Can't Fucking Masturbate! Seventy Unfunny Puns and Sixteen More That Don't Make Any Sense This Book is the Merriam-Webster Definition of Chauvinism Convicting Somebody of Rape is Embarrassing for Both Parties So Maybe Just Forget About It? Whoops! I Gave a Ten Year Old Female Centaur Huge Boobs. Can We Fix This in Post? If You've Read Piers Anthony's Other Books and Enjoyed Them, Maybe You'll Like This Book That He Put Way Less Effort Into Magic Doesn't Recognize Same-Sex Relationships But a Human Can Fuck a Goat and Produce a Mutant Offspring

Oh no! Are they planning on destabilizing a region so they can send in the military and take control of its oil?

Eight issues in and I haven't discussed the Darkstars uniform. Ignore the one on the cover; the artist completely fucked that one up. Just check out the one on the panel scanned above. What's with the piano keys theme? Will we eventually learn that they're powers are tied to music in the same way the Green Lantern power is tied to emotion? Did Grant Morrison ever use the Darkstars in his Multiversity lore as the movers and shakers of the harmony of the spheres which allowed for the different universes vibrating on different musical frequencies? But most importantly: can you play Chopsticks on a Darkstars' chest? Another great (?) aspect of the Darkstars uniform is the huge arrow pointing at the crotch. Whenever I wear super tight material that hugs my junk and exposes my intimacy, I love to call attention to it. "Hey hey hey! Ladies and Gents! Have you ever wondered exactly what my cock and balls look like? Check it out! Also this isn't vulgar because you're looking at cloth and not my skin even if the cloth hugs every wrinkle and vein. So please stop trying to have me arrested." It turns out "The American Way" isn't destabilization of countries who have resources that Americans want but don't want to pay for; "The American Way" is advertising jobs for needed positions. Man, that's so boring. And yet, it's the most interesting part of this comic book series so far!

In 1993, what does "some familiarity with computers" mean? That you've used Koala Pad and wasted tons of meat by killing bears on The Oregon Trail?

I know, I know! By 1993, people no longer even remembered Koala Pad and The Oregon Trail. It's just I don't really remember what was big in 1993. AOL Chat and Myst, maybe? You might also be wondering why Carla is dressed like a lunatic. Turns out, she's taking the Darkstars to a Country Western Bar. Yee haw! I'm pretty sure the first bar I ever went to was a Country Western Bar, The Saddle Rack, in San Jose, California. It was my 21st birthday and we were there because my friend Bob and I had made a pact when we were ten that when we turned 21, we were going to ride a mechanical bull. Bob turned twenty-one 23 days before me and he also remembered that stupid pact for eleven years. I also opened some presents that night and the woman I was dating gave me a Lobo t-shirt.

Geez, we get it, Darkstar. Your entire race was murdered. Don't make us feel guilty about having fun just because your people "used to have fun too."

What a dumb question, Carla! Obviously he knows what music is. He's got a fucking piano painted on his chest. While Darkstar hits the bar, Homeless Mo hires an office manager and K'lassh destroy's Darkstar's ship in orbit. Also, I should probably stop calling Mo Douglas "Homeless Mo." He lives at the office now!

Ugh! What's with all this political correctness and virtue signalling?! Why can't this old comic book be more like, um, older comic books and just stick to bank robberies and punching bad guys? I mean super villain bad guys bent on taking over the world and not white supremacist bad guys intent on taking over America! I mean, well, you know what I mean! Just have the good guy punch the obviously bad guy who doesn't need to espouse terrible social beliefs that I might also espouse! We know he's bad! Just make him generally bad or you're going to alienate your readership! I know racism is bad! But shoving it down my throat like this just makes me think, "Maybe it's not so bad?"

That previous caption was satirical and not actually my personal feelings. See, the thing about writing is that you can write whatever you can imagine and it doesn't make the thing you've written some secret insight into the truth of the writer. It's just shit that was typed in half a second without any thought at all behind it. Except, I mean, there was a lot of thought behind it. And a lot of that thought was less about Comics Gaters types currently spouting a lot of that kind of garbage and more about comic book fans writing letters to old comics that were saying the same kinds of things twenty and thirty years before it got a stupid "Let's append -gate to another word!" name. Also, it did not take half a second. Mostly because my brain is broken and it took me forever to pull the word "alienate" out of it even though it was the word I wanted to use and I knew the definition and could almost hear the word in my head but my brain was all, "Fuck you. Why should I give you this word you're seeking? You know how many hits of LSD you rammed through me, you careless asshole? Get fucked!" Darkstar takes an interest in the mechanical bull and is all, "Aw, that doesn't look so tough! Not like this space mechanical bull from this place in space I know!" Some drunk and tough cowjerk hears Darkstar's comments and simply assumes, like I assume he always assumes, that Darkstar is emasculating him with his words.

Beau is the Lobo of the Country Western Bar.

Darkstar decides the best way to calm the situation is to ride the mechanical bull. Beau watches him and yells, "He's the best I've ever seen!" It begins to look like Darkstar's plan is going to work until some other rube tells Beau, "That guy ain't human!" Beau goes full redneck and is all, "Yeah! He ain't! That means I have a duty to try and get him killed!" He then throws the switch on the mechanical bull to "Do Not Attempt This! Dangerous! Why Did We Even Add This Setting?!" Carla cold cocks Beau to help save Darkstar even though he doesn't need help. Wasn't she listening when he told his story about the space mechanical bull in space and how it was way harder than the Earth version? Darkstar breaks the mechanical bull with his crotch and will now have to pay for the damages. It's a good thing he's saved all that gold by firing Flint last issue. I don't know if it ever happened because this was the last issue of Darkstars I ever read but I hope Beau came back as a villain and called himself Low Beau.

Dammit. Now I want cake.

Carla writes a check to pay for the damages to the bar just as K'lassh arrives. Carla decides to keep her checkbook out. Darkstars #8 Rating: B+. I don't know if this issue was better than the rest because I knew it was the last issue I was going to read or because it objectively was better. At least I didn't have to suffer through Travis Charest's 90s art. This issue was done by guest penciller Patrick Zircher! Basically that meant it looked like 80s comics which I never mean to defend when I say 90s comics art was terrible. There was a lot of 80s comic art that was fucking awful as well! But it was standard awful! 90s art was unbearable because it was objectively terrible in so many ways (anatomy, asymmetry, overuse of specific tropes) but people proclaimed it the greatest art they had ever seen. I wouldn't have minded so much if everybody was all, "Well, this isn't great but it's different. Let's see what happens with it for awhile!" Anyway, in my world, Darkstar was murdered by K'lassh and there was never another issue.

[mister-69]

WHY TRAILS IS MY FAVORITE RPG SERIES

What comes to mind when you think of a good RPG series? Often times people will say Final Fantasy, Dark Souls, Skyrim, and Witcher 3. Others will say Pokemon, Fire Emblem, Xenoblade, or Tales. But very few will mention the Trails series, otherwise known as the Kiseki series in Japan.

The Trails series is actually a larger part of The Legend of Heroes franchise, which has been around for a long time. There are 5 other Legend of Heroes series just like Trails, but we will be focusing on just the Trails series, which is the 6th installment.

It is by far the best RPG series pound for pound in existence; very few games can rival the quality of this series such as Witcher 3 and the Xenoblade series. So why doesn't anyone know about it outside of Japan? The biggest problem that stands in the way of the Trails series is localization.

Trails games have the largest script size of any video game series, which means they come over that much later when localized. For frame of reference, Trails in the Sky came out on PC in 2004 and PSP in 2006, but it was localized in 2011. Its sequel was localized 3 years later. The script size isn't the sole reason for the discreprancy between Japanese and Western release dates, but it makes quality testing, debugging, and programming much more time consuming.

Long localization times mean that the game will feel dated to Western players by the time it reaches them. Couple that being in the unpopular JRPG genre, and it's no wonder why Trails is under the radar in the West. Even in Japan, Falcom’s decisions to make most of their games on PC backfired. At the time, console gaming was more popular than PC gaming, the reverse of today's trend.

As a result, console RPGs received more attention which was further amplified by the heated console wars between Nintendo, Sony, and Sega. What's more unfortunate for Falcom was the decline of the JRPG genre, which earned a stigma in the West, therefore striking the global market off their list of considerations. So even by the time Trails in the Sky came out, it was already too late for them to capture a widespread audience.

If you go back in time and change a few things like platform choice, localization, and maybe going 3D, then Trails would have the popularity it deserves today. If Trails was as well known as Final Fantasy or Witcher 3, it would have dramatically changed the landscape of the JRPG genre.

But enough about that... So what makes the Trails series so worthy of praise? When you pick up an RPG, you're probably doing it for its story and characters. The battle system is secondary to you but of course you still want that to be fun. The Trails series does all of the above and more, to the greatest extent.

The best way I can describe the Trails series is that it's an RPG made for RPG fans. You have some of the best worldbuilding of any fictional work, profound story and characters, massive amounts of content, and an ingenius battle system. It does everything you want an RPG to do, and more.

WORLD BUILDING

It's easy to create a fictional world but difficult to create one that has a coherent geography, ecology, history, and politics. It is essential to telling a story because it’s the setting, the driving force of the plot, and the groundwork for character motives. But worldbuilding can also destroy the storyline if it's bad.

Let's take a look at Final Fantasy XIII and its world of Cocoon, a floating planetoid-shaped continent floating above Gran Pulse, a wilderness of monsters. While on Cocoon, your fugitive characters are constantly on the run from the entire human race. You never have time to take in the sights and in fact, you barely get to explore any of the wondrous cities in the game. Outside of deities and the military, you know nothing about its citizens, cities, politics, economy, or what life is like for the average person. You have no reason to care about its world.

Which I guess is the point because your characters are fugitives who plan on destroying it. Except that halfway through, your characters don't want to do that anymore but Cocoon almost gets destroyed anyway. In the end, Cocoon is saved but to what end? The players have no way to care about Cocoon even if they wanted to, so why does it matter? Its safety has no emotional impact on the player.

By the way, you can read much about XIII's lore and background in the game's database. But that's not the same as storytelling or worldbuilding. Reading about something is not the same as experiencing it. The game can have amazing characters and look as pretty as it wants, but with such awful worldbuilding its story becomes the least memorable thing about it.

Now let's talk about Trails, which takes place on the continent of Zemuria. The Trails in the Sky trilogy takes place in the Kingdom of Liberl. Zero no Kiseki and Ao no Kiseki take place in Crossbell State, and are thus known as the Crossbell duology. Trails of Cold Steel 1 & 2 takes place in the Erebonian Empire. All of these regions are within the Zemurian continent, each with their own culture, people, ideas, economy, and politics.  And there are many more countries on this continent that play a role in the Trails series, we just don't travel there- yet.

They sign treaties, trade with each other, and go to war just like real world nations. The relationship between these regions affects the overarching events of what happens within their borders, and thus become the driving forces of their respective games.

In Sky, you have an extremist who doesn't believe the current seat of authority has what it takes to protect Liberl. In Erebonia, you have a country built on the annexation of many other states in an expansion for power so that it can compete against its long-standing rival, the Calvard Republic. With the way Trails does its worldbuilding, you can see that everyone has a motivation behind their actions. You can see why the story unfolds the way it does. And you can also see how they intersect and affect each other.

But Trails is not simply a bunch of countries vying for resources or superiority. There are so many forces and organizations in play that make the story even more interesting. You have the Bracer Guild, a politically neutral organization whose purpose is to maintain peace and protect people. They don't alway get along with the military, but they are loved by the people for solving their everyday problems.

On the other hand, you have the Jaeger Corps, mercenaries for hire. They are often employed by corrupt officials and evil organizations to carry out their dirty work. They operate outside the boundaries of laws and do whatever it takes to get the job done. There are different Jaeger Corps in the Trails Series, such as the Zephyr and Red Constellation, who have a bad history together. The Jaeger Corps and Bracer Guild are not necessarily rivals, but their line of work and ideals are often in opposition.

You also have Septian Churches established all over the continent in dedication of the Sky Goddess Aidios, otherwise known as "She who dwells above." Ordinarily, these churches are insignificant to the main storyline. But in Arteria, the High Seat of the Septian Church, there is an operation of Holy Knights known as the Gralsritter. They operate with the utmost secrecy and are therefore unknown to the public. Their goal is to recover artifacts and ensure they are kept away from human hands. They have other important missions but they are a central focus of the Trails series, so there is not much we know about their Holy Knight operations. 

Also operating in secrecy is an evil society known as Ouroboros. They are the ultimate masterminds in each of the Trails games. Their intentions, members, and powers are all shrouded in mystery. Often times, their plans revolve around obtaining artifacts and manipulating influential figures to carry out their grand schemes.

The amount of detail that goes into their worldbuilding goes down to even the microscopic levels. Each city and town has its own economy, culture, and people. The main reason for Trails' large text is because almost every NPC in the game is a named character with their own story. You have a couple traveling the world together, a hopeless romantic and his best friend, and family members living in different cities wondering about each other.

These aren't your average generic NPCs that exist to fill up a town and make it feel alive. These are actual characters with their own stories with different dialogue lines throughout the entire game. What you get in the end is a living, breathing, organic world. It's something you can appreciate while traveling, something you can fall in love with, and ultimately something you want to protect.

STORY/CHARACTERS

Even with amazing world building, the writers can still drop the ball on the story and characters. In Sword Art Online, the worldwide hit MMORPG anime, you have a wonderful fantasy land and an intriguing UI for players to use. Couple that with top notch animation and attractive character designs and you have a great-looking anime. Unfortunately, that's all it is.

The show is basically being run by a Gary and Mary Stu, two leading protagonists who are perfect in every way and get what they want in the end. It's painful and annoying to watch. The show does a great job of catching your interest but an equally good job on ruining it. SAO's worldbuilding has great potential but it's ultimately wasted on poor writing and terrible characters.

On the other hand, Trails does an exceptional job with their story and characters. Their storylines have actually good plot twists and their games know how to wrap up and ending better than a Chipotle burrito. Their characters have deep histories and well-written development.

Writing a good plot twist can be difficult, because it needs to have the element of surprise, impact the storyline, and make sense all at the same time. The story has to lead up to that point without giving it away. In other words, the foreshadowing needs to be just enough so that players guess something will happen but not too much so that they don't know exactly what WILL happen. This is something Trails has done every single time.

Secondly, plot twists will change the tone or pace of the game, for better or for worse. Often times, writers just have this amazing twist in their mind but they don't know what to do afterwards. So what you get is a sloppy ending that makes no sense.

This is a problem Trails does not suffer because you can tell that they meticulously plan out their writing from beginning to end. Their plot twists properly accomodate for everything affected so there are no plot holes or inconsistencies. And because their storylines occur over several games, their endings wrap up the current arc but end with a cliffhanger to start the next arc.

Trails does an equally amazing job with their characters. Good characters are always memorable and it just so happens that nearly all of the Trails characters are memorable. They go beyond your typical archetype because of good writing, original histories, and meaningful development.

When delving into a character's past, Trails goes deep. You see their upbringing, what happened to each of the characters, and how those events shaped the person you see today. These flashbacks are brief and happen at the crux of a character's development. What you get in the end is a development that flows nicely, ties in with the story, and helps you appreciate the character more.

Speaking of development, Trails has some of the most meaningful character development in the genre. Each of these characters feel very human because they have relateable flaws, flaws that they know they have difficulty coping with. And by adventuring with companions, they are able to own up to their mistakes and make amends, which pushes their characters towards completion.

For example, there are a pair of characters who dislike each other because of their personalities and social standing. They are unable to work in a team and as a result, a mutual friend of theirs gets hurt. They are forced to realize that they are the problem and begin working together. They still get on each other's nerves, but now they are more like squabbling rivals rather than two people who hate each other's guts.

Moreover, each of them have their own realizations as individuals. The noble realizes that he shouldn't try to do everything alone. There are times when it is okay to rely on other's strengths. The commoner realizes he's too hotheaded and that he needs to be more open-minded. It's endearing, it's charming, and it's entertaining. This is the kind of character writing you will come across in the Trails series.

BATTLE SYSTEM

At the end of the day, video games are video games. It can have a great story but if the gameplay doesn't attract the player, then they might drop the game before finishing the story. So sometimes, players are forced to play a bad game to finish a story or go through a bad story that has good gameplay. With Trails, the quality of their story and characters can also be seen in the gameplay so you get the best of both worlds.

The Trails series is one of the most satisfying strategic turn-based RPGs in the genre. It's simple enough for newcomers to understand without referring to a guide but complex enough for hardcore players to have fun with. Basically, your characters battle on a field and perform regular attacks, special attacks, or cast spells. And naturally, there are other commands such as defending, using items, or running away. But there is much more to this.

First of all, positioning. Each character has a movement stat which determines how far they can travel on the field. This is important for weapon users who need to be close to the enemy to attack. During battles, you and your enemies will be all over the battlefield attacking each other, and this is where position comes to play. In this game, spells and special attacks have an area of effect that allows them to hit more than one target. For example, a linear AoE or a circular AoE. This also applies to buffs so if your characters aren't close enough together, some of them may miss out on beneficial effects.

Secondly, Trails' turn-based combat has an additional factor called Delay. In most turn-based RPGs, turns are determined solely by the speed stat. In Trails, it's based on both speed and delay. Delay is the amount of "lag" of each action, and this "lag" determines when the character's next turn will be. For example, when unleashing a powerful spell or attack, the delay may allow the enemy to take an extra turn before your character can act again. This kind of balancing allows different levels of attacks and spells to become relevant throughout the entire game.

Third, we have spells which are known as Arts in the Trails series. These spells can be offensive or supportive. Supportive spells can buff your characters or debuff the enemy, depending on their immunities. Offensive spells are separated into different tiers of spells. Stronger spells have higher costs and more delay, but they deal more damage and often have an area of effect. Certain offensive spells also have a chance to inflict a status ailment such as freeze or burn.

Fourth, we have Crafts which are the special attacks of the Trails series. These are character-specific skills that can have any number of effects. They can deal extra damage, have an area of effect, provide a buff, inflict debuffs on enemies, heal HP, and more. They consume a resource called CP, which can only be accumulated during battles (with some exceptions).

Fifth, we have Status Ailments. Yes they exist in every RPG but Trails' status ailments play a larger role in the outcome of battles than any other RPGs. Defensive buffs are significant enough to prevent character deaths and save you from wasting a turn on healing HP. And ailments such as Petrify or Freeze can completely turn the tide.

On top of that, Trails has a plethora of unique ailments unseen in other RPGs. AT Delay pushes back a character's turn. Faint prevents a character from taking a turn, and any attacks that land on them will result in a Critical. Vanish temporarily removes a character from the field. The complexity of ailments adds more layers of strategy that must be considered when battling in a Trails game.

And finally, we have Orbments, yet another defining part of the Trails system. Every character has an Orbment with several slots. Players choose what elemental Quartz goes in each slot. Quartz will affect both the character's stats and what spells they can use. For example, an Attack Quartz (Red) will increase a character's physical damage and give them access to Fire Bolt.

Orbments work differently depending on which Trails game you play, but universally you get to choose what Quartz goes into each slot. Because of this freedom, there is a high degree of customization in outfitting your party members. You can shape characters into different roles to suit your needs.

These are the defining components that make up the Trails system. Each of these adds a layer of depth and strategy to the battle system. In most turn-based games, you're essentially managing damage and healing. But in Trails, you're doing so much more than that. Its sophistication allows the satisfying experience of finding multiple solutions to the same problem and playing however you want.

A battle system can have the most interesting concepts and mechanics but it's useless without an array of enemies that take full advantage of it. In Trails, you have many different kinds of enemies that require different strategies to take down. You have enemies with high evasion or high defense, so you need to use spells to take them down. Then there are enemies who are immune or even reflect spells, so they need to be handled physically. There are enemies who explode upon KO, so you have to take them out from a distance. These are just few of the many types of enemies that you will run into in the Trails series.

You can get by on brute force, but you’ll be using more healing items and spells along the way. If you play with strategy, your battles will be more efficient and satisfying. That’s the beauty of the Trails’ battle systems. There is no single way to win a battle. There are no useless characters that get outshined by the rest of the cast (okay... I can think of one poor girl). The battle system is your playground. 

MUSIC

When people talk about amazing video game music they often refer to Final Fantasy, Legend of Zelda, and Mega Man. But the Trails series is a real contender and personally, I enjoy their music more than any other video game series (except Zelda). You have really catchy battle tunes, perfect ambient music for dungeons, and the music for cutscenes are spot-on. Most soundtracks are 50% recognizable, but Trails music is so good, I remember 80-90% of their tracks.

CONTENT

Like I said before, Trails is an RPG for RPG fans. RPG fans love a game they can sit down and play for endless amounts of hours. They love having a ton of sidequests to do as long as they are fun and interesting. They enjoy exploring every nook and cranny of fields and dungeons for hidden treasure chests. Trails caters to all of this and more.

This holds especially true for their storylines. As mentioned before, the Trails series span several games to tell the complete story. Their story isn't dragged on or inflated for the sake of having multiple games. The scale of the stories are so grand and epic, that each arc needs to be told on its own. When playing the sequel, I want to find out badly how the story ends and what happens to the characters I've grown attached to. I don't feel like the series is being milked or that they are just reusing assets to cut costs of making a new game.

CONCLUSION 

I've always found it difficult to explain to someone else why Trails is so good. It's easy to say "This RPG has good stories and characters and it's fun to play" but that's not enough to convince someone to pick it up and play it. This is a series that cannot be summed up with a few tag lines in a 30 second commercial. I wish I could hold a lecture at a campus to describe the Trails series to RPG fans.

Also, the Trails series comes in so many different flavors but they're universally amazing. So it's not just one game or a duology I am trying to sell to people, it's the entire series. I find myself saying to people "Just give it a try, you won't regret it" and then typing in all caps to emphasize my desperate excitement. But I think in writing this essay, I've done a good job making it stand out from other RPGs. 

I hope you guys give Trails a try.