#besides the seeding most were randomly generated

[red-black-aesthetic-bout]

Round one matchups under the cut!!

EDIT: ROUND ONE IS CLOSED. CHECK PINNED FOR ROUND TWO

Bracket 1

Ruby Rose (RWBY) vs. Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)

Mello (Death Note) vs. Rhaenyra Targaryern (House of the Dragon)

Kuga Yuma (World Trigger) vs. Kiki (Kiki's Delivery Service)

Clifford (Clifford the Big Red Dog) vs. Dracula (Castlevania)

Kai Satou (Your Turn to Die) vs. Ladybugs/Ladybirds (real life)

Zuko (Avatar: the Last Airbender) vs. Kuro (Katamari)

Kate (Shadows House) vs. The Cat (Ghost Trick)

Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch (Marvel comics) vs. Red X (Teen Titans)

Elric of Melniboné (The Elric Saga/Michael Moorcock's Eternal Champion Multiverse) vs. Naomi Armitage (Armitage the Third)

Alucard (Hellsing Ultimate) vs Keith Kogane (Voltron: Legendary Defenders)

Lance (Sym Bionic Titan) vs. Panpeus (Gitaroo Man)

Six-Eared Macaque (Lego Monkie Kid) vs. Flick (Animal Crossing)

Watchdog (Jupiter-Men) vs. Crowley (Good Omens)

Eye of Sauron (Lord of the Rings) vs. Giant Horse (Breath of the Wild)

Razer (Jak X: Combat Racing) vs. Kieran Valentine (Monster High: Why Do Ghouls Fall In Love?)

Wei Wuxian (The Untamed/MDZS) vs. Yifa Snorgelsson (Dimension 20: Neverafter)

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs. Black Sonichu/Blake (CWC's Sonichu)

Sailor Mars (Sailor Moon) vs. The Toy Soldier (The Mechanisms)

Ada Wong (Resident Evil) vs. Jack Spicer (Xiaolin Showdown)

Top Hat (The Nightly Manner) vs. Marceline the Vampire Queen (Adventure Time)

Parr Family/The Incredibles (The Incredibles) vs. Pioneer 9 (17776 and 20020)

Guilmon (Digimon) vs. Julian Devorak (The Arcana)

Miles Edgeworth (Ace Attorney) vs. Sundancer (Worm - Parahumans)

Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Oddyssey) vs. Eas/Cure Passion (Fresh Precure)

Harley Quinn (DC comics) vs. Itachi Uchiha (Naruto)

Scorpia (She-ra and the Princesses of Power) vs. Redcloak (Order of the Stick)

Scarlet Kingsnake (real life) vs. Hornet (Hollow Knight)

Maka Albarn (Soul Eater) vs. Toa Tahu (Bionicle)

Thorn (Scooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost) vs. Litten (Pokémon)

Maned Wolf (real life) vs. Orko (He-Man)

Rebecca Rubin (American Girl Dolls) vs. Lucifer (Obey Me)

Death the Wolf/The Wolf/Lobo/Death etc. (Puss in Boots: the Last Wish) vs. Joker (Persona 5) Bracket 2

Miles Morales/Spiderman (Marvel comics) vs. Cynder (Spyro)

Edelgard von Hresvelg (Fire Emblem franchise) vs. Sanguine (The Elder Scrolls)

Artegor Nexus (Galactik Football) vs. Beidou (Genshin Impact)

Barb (Trolls) vs. Mao Mao (Mao Mao Heroes of Pure Heart)

Wrathion, the Black Prince (World of Warcraft) vs. Vox Akuma (Nijisanji En)

Romeo (Minecraft: Story Mode) vs. Hua Cheng (Heaven Official's Blessing/TGCF)

Sharkface (Red vs. Blue) vs. Ashley (WarioWare)

Carmen Sandiego (Carmen Sandiego) vs. Beatrice (Umineko no Naku Koro ni)

Claire Stanfield/Felix Walken (Baccano!) vs. Deathgripper (How to Train your Dragon)

Default Mii Brawler (Super Smash Bros Ultimate) vs. Silver (Pokemon franchise)

Joui Jouki (Ordem Paranormal) vs. Banica Conchita (Evillious Chronicles)

Dreadking Rathalos (Monster Hunter Generations) vs. Black Widow Spider (real life)

Celestia Ludenberg (Danganronpa) vs. Gira/Kuwagata Ohger (Ohsama Sentai: King Ohger)

Garnet (Steven Universe) vs. Black Knight (Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

Scott Summers/Cyclops (X-men) vs. Heather Chandler (Heathers)

Lon (Sendokai champions) vs. Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Darth Maul (Star Wars) vs. Detective Turret (Portal 2)

Easthies (Witch Hat Atelier) vs. Grim (Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy)

Zagreus (Hades) vs. Freddy Kreuger (A Nightmare on Elm Street)

Black Rose Dragon (Yu-Gi-Oh!) vs. Marian Hawke (Dragon Age 2)

Michael Burnham (Stark Trek franchise) vs. Mapo Tofu (Food Fantasy)

Flapjack (The Owl House) vs. Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug (Miraculous Ladybug)

Red-winged Blackbird (real life) vs. Pucca (Pucca)

Overblot Riddle (Twisted Wonderland) vs. Quattro Bajeena (Mobile Suit Gundam franchise)

Pyramid Head (Silent Hill) vs. Lord Hater (Wander Over Yonder)

Sigmund Sinclair (The Reckoning) vs. Vash the Stampede (Trigun 98/Trigun Maximum)

Ranma Saotome (Ranma 1/2) vs. Valerie Gray (Danny Phantom)

Mephone 4s (Inanimate Insanity) vs. Regina (Doki Doki Precure)

Mordecai Heller (Lackadaisy) vs. Sideswipe (Transformers G1)

Satan (Lil Nas X's Montero music video, and also Christianity or something) vs. Zealot Carmainerose (Epic 7)

Zero (Code Geass) vs. Yor Briar (Spy x Family)

Vincent Valentine (Final Fantasy franchise) vs. Ryuko Matoi (Kill la Kill)

THESE ARE OUR CONTESTANTS. NOW WHO'S READY TO RUMBLE!!!!!!

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 5

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all, Blood and Gore, Child abuse, Sexual abuse of children & adults, Child killings, religious trauma, Torture and abuse both physical and mental.

Previous chap: CH: 4 Eucharist

Next chap: Ch: 6 Apothecary

_____________________________________

~Ch: 5 Deluge~

The next morning Blake woke to a knock on his door. Grumbling as he got up to answer. “Coming.” Almost falling over before he reached the door in his half awake state.

Meeting Marta standing at the door with a man stood beside her. “I brought you Jacob, the traveler.”

He shrunk under her gesturing toward him looking like a child brought to the principle. He was shorter than most with a completely shaved head. Thin as a twig suffering some sort of jittery tick. One arm randomly flexing its muscle to shut his hand closed. Another twitched half his face to tug his mouth as his eye squinted repeatedly.

“Oh, yeah, very good.” Rubbing his face to wake up faster. “Let's go talk in the hall.” gesturing in a point for them to head toward the large room. “Okay.” he yawned when they were seated.

“You wanted to s-see me s-s-sir?” His voice stuttered along to his twitches.

“Yes, you used to travel outside? Can you take up the trips again?”

“Sure, but it'll take longer than before. S-s-since the truck broke down.”

“How long?”

“About 3 and a half days. Here and back. That's if the trail hasn't been r-r-ruined by the storm.”

“How long with a truck?”

“Only two hours.”

“Is the truck fixable?”

“No, since i-i-its axle was shot by hitting a log. Knoth had it stripped for parts. E-e-engines almost gone.”

“Fuckin- “ Blake took a deep breath. “Okay, walking it is. Are you the only traveler left?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you and I need to travel? Food, bandages, rope?”

“Mainly food and space to carry. What w-w-we need most though are weapons. Wildlife isn't the only problem. Heretics took over the east for a reason. I-i-i couldn't get past even if I wanted.”

Waylon felt sick again. “I get that.”

“Heretics are called goats now.” Marta corrected.

Jacobs' extremely confused look cleared by Blake's explanation. “They're not heretics and it seemed wrong to keep calling them that. Goats sounded a lot better and less anxiety inducing. Since they might block our path, what if we bring Marta?”

“That would keep them away, but w-w-what about Temple Gate? Everyone knows the here- goats. Don't come ‘cause of h-h-her.”

“We'll have to take the risk. It's been a month since you've last gone. The generator must be running on fumes by now.”

“Two months. We've only gotten the gas to last this long by disconnecting chunks of Temple Gate. B-b-but like you said, its reaching fumes. Some gallons will buy us a couple days, but to fill it f-f-for even a week we need a truck to haul it back.”

“We got the cash to get a new truck. We get to town and from there we load up on what we need and travel back in a few hours. What do we need to travel?” Returning to the earlier question.

“A few meals each, the money, bandages for emergencies, some rope to climb over anything. Axes to chop firewood for camp. Warm clothing and something to sleep on.”

“Okay. Best if we have James come along. We'll be buying seeds to get farming up and running again. What I also want most are more meds. Knoths “study aids”, can you still get them?”

“Should be able. Doctor didn't say anything about leaving. He's gotta be w-w-wondering where his favorite patient is.”

“Right, Wait here and I'll gather everything up.” He stood, followed by Marta to fetch supplies and James for the journey.

Spreading the message of the renamed heretics earning Blake looks. like he was the crazy one in this town. Must be if I'm trying to run it. Goats, how fucking stupid. Could've named them something normal. Neighbors would have been easier. Guess the ridiculousness of it is working. Can't be too scared of a man eating group of “goats” on the mountain. Meeting up with James to pass along their plans. Scavenging the pantry for a few “meals” to pack. Rope coiled up in a bag along with bandages packed into Blake's vest. Blake packed as much money as he could into a backpack he found. Gathered back around Jacob he double checked what they packed for approval. Given the go ahead they readied to leave.

“Most of the journeys gonna be rough up and over the mountain. P-p-past that it's easier when we reach flat land.” Jacob pointed in the direction they would head for.

They didn't make it out of town when John came running up. Looking like he had a rough night's sleep. “You're going outside? And you're taking Marta with you? Why, shouldn't she stay here? What about the heretics?! - Ah fuckin- goats, whatever!”

“We have to reach the outside. Three of us wouldn't last if we're swarmed by them.”

“But the whole town will be swarmed instead. Take me instead.”

“Why?”

“I've traveled all over there to hunt, back around when the goats broke off. I can sneak you by without any trouble and Marta can stay to keep the town safe. Is there really a point to this if you come back to all us strung up?”

Blake didn't have a chance to answer. Marta interrupted with an alert he never wanted to hear. “Val's here.”

“What?!” Looking up at the women tall enough to gaze over the obstructions beside them. “Where?!” After she pointed he ran down the line of blockages to see for himself. Not having the eagle vision Marta had it took him longer to spot Val. Catching the speck of her golden hair at the tree line. Standing to watch the town with her head turning back and forth between its ends. He couldn't see anyone else with her, yet they could have just been hiding back in the thick shrubbery. At the appearance of Marta stepping into the open, Val locked her gaze on her. Stepping back to disappear between the trees.

“See?! She's already looking at how to take this place down!” Shifting his stiff shoulders the more frantic he turned.

Blake heard John shouting, but hardly took in the words. Mind racing on its options. Val would see who left the town. If Marta stayed, Temple Gate would be safe, but he would be an easy target. Despite John's earlier offering to navigate the land by sneaking. Marta may scare them off, but he preferred they all run. Marta's limp coming to the front as a problem causer. Harder to run, defend, and move over rough terrain. If Blake was going to take care of this town he had to make sure everyone stayed safe. “Marta will stay here. We'll sneak by the mountain.”

John looked relieved by his answer. “Thank you, sir.”

Marta stomped on the conversation. “You sure about that? Can he really get you by?”

“Town has to stay safe and you call too much attention. Yeah I'm sure.” Looking to the rest. “Now let's hurry. I rather disappear before Val notices we're leaving.”

One last look given to Temple Gates town sign as they passed. Out of town the sky was filled by gray clouds. Rain falling over them before their journey got anywhere out of Templegates view. “Well.” James started. “Gonna be a lot harder to follow our tracks.” Rain filling them with water. Mini streams flowing down hill sweeping away the rest.

“No bears will sniff us out either.” Jacob added.

“There are bears here?” Blake's concern rising.

“N-n-not for a long while. Haven't seen anything bigger than fat raccoon's.”

John grabbed onto a log to help hoist the others up. “If only they were actually fat. Would be a good meal, but it's all fluff.”

“A scrawny meals better than nothin’. Though I'd love to have steak a-a-again. Wouldn't care if I had to chew on it like leather.”

“Best I can do is a squirrel around here. Gotta beat the things to make the stringiness less of a chew.”

James grumbled at the two of them. “Can you both stop talkin' 'bout food. Least not 'till after we've caught some.”

“That's a ways away, old man.” John joked.

Blake after being helped up next glanced back down hill toward the engorged river rushing by. “Hey, we won't have any trouble with the river will we?”

“Shouldn't, we won't be crossing it f-f-from here on. Most we have to worry about is catching a sickness in this weather.”

“Hope it won't rain the entire way.”

“Heh, don't know how good y-y-your luck is. Mine's shit, heh.”

“And you're the one leading?”

“Not at all. That's John's job for the first few miles. If we die you can b-b-blame him. Heh.”

“Fuck off.” John smiled at Jacob. “We won't die long as-” He went quiet at the loud sound of crackling. Head shooting up to watch the tops of distant trees. One by one they sloped down as the loud snapping approached them. Blake, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, turned to see the mountain side sloping away. Whole adult trees that were on their path rode down on moving earth. Those same trees collapsing down on each other to loudly snap themselves to pieces. Grinded down into the earth to make a blended mud sludge. “Run that way!” John pointed toward a more stable land.

Each of them bolted off toward a part not sliding out from under their feet. Clambering over everything that was also on the move. Avoiding trees collapsing in a massive wave of mud. They leapt off a log to a safer part of land, however Blake didn't have the same luck. The whole log shoved away by the mudslide he slipped to almost roll off it. He was forced to claw into the log free floating down the mountain. His traveling companions shrank in the distance, unable to keep up. Unable to see them anymore he turned to where the log was going. All the land flying off a cliff edge to slam down into the violent rapids flushed by the heavy rain. He flinched when it was his turn next. When the log hit it spun under the water to toss Blake off into the wild stream. Disoriented, he tried figuring out where the surface was. Spinning uncontrollably in the rapids below the surface. Water pitch black from mud not helped by the many logs rolling around. Bashing into the rocky river bed the air escaped his lungs. Knocked over debris one after another he somehow managed to be knocked to the surface. Clawing into a soaken slick log for dear life. Hacking painfully for air until he was spun back under. Tossed in and out repeatedly he was losing the energy to fight.

Hacking his lungs out on another log while the stream settled. Knocked around more by piling debris rather than rapids at this point. Closing in on a rocky shore line he clawed his way across multiple logs. Reaching land he struggled to get further up on it slipping under him. Its angle extra cruel on his battered body crawling up it to a flat ridge. He laid wheezing in the mud too tired to rise. Shivering soaking wet he shut his eyes meaning to do it briefly. Waking instead what seemed like hours later. Beaten almost to death he was tempted to go back to sleep. Rising enough to wipe his glasses clear he moved to stand. Feeling immense pain from his leg he looked back. A large chunk of a branch speared down the side of his lower leg.

“Fucking, shit. My fucking luck.” Reaching back for it at first then swiftly retracting his hand. “can't yank it out. Can I keep it in though?” His blood pouring from the wound had him look away. Prepared for the pain he forced himself up. Growling through grit teeth he leaned against a nearby tree to recover. Searching for some-sort of recognizable marker. He couldn't see Temple Gate anymore and the mountains all looked the same. No idea where the others were he was left alone. “Fuck me.” He cursed again. Reaching into his vest for a roll of gauze. “Better than nothing I guess.” Wrapping up his bleeding wound. Trying to at least slow it despite the branch sticking out. Okay. Checking around without a clue on what to do.

“John?” He shouted and waited for an answer. Nothing, he shouted again. Hacking out his stinging lungs he almost vomited. Managing to keep everything down he held off on more shouting. Maybe I can get some place high and find a land marker? Limping forward he forced himself up the steep hillside. A lot farther than what he expected to make on his leg. Resting on a flat area he regretted committing to this. His leg felt both on fire and numb. This is worse than when I was actually on fire. Leaning over to catch up on his energy. Pushing on to make it up a scraggly cliff area he feared slipping off of. One tumble and I might end up back in the river. Or shredded on those rocks. Adjusting his soaken backpack full of cash to stay secure the further up he went.

Resting again at another flat top covered in soaked grass. Patch becoming extremely tempting as a place to fall asleep again. Hearing the underbrush rustling he shot up straight. “John?” Locking up at the sight of a stranger staring wide eyed at Blake's appearance. He was tall and covered by crossing scars. Black Hair cut neatly short parted by more scarring. A big dip marking half his lower jaw like a chunk was ripped away. His vibrant green eyes stood out from the dark circles surrounding them. What was most alarming was his covering of clay and leafage for camouflage. This was definitely a heretic and that meant Val wouldn't be far. The stranger looked away back down his path before finding Blake. Whipping their attention back toward him, locking an intense stare. Body stiffened with both hands tightened to fists. Pure rage filled his eyes moments before he ran out to slam into Blake.

“Fuck! Get off me!” Blake shouted in trying to shove the other off after having the wind knocked out of him. Kicking the other in the gut he fought the stunned other back to their feet. Punches traded between the two until Blake was slammed into a boulder. Swearing he felt something crack his body locked up in pain. Yanked around to be slammed back into the dirt he thrashed to get away. Clawing into the others arms choking him into the dirt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was what Blake's mind repeated. Unable to think much else on the lack of air.

“What are you doing?!” He heard a voice shout out of view. It distracted the other enough for Blake to hoist his legs up. Shocked that he managed to throw them both off a cliff edge he didn't realize was so close. Their fall short, down onto the rocks below. Last thing Blake experienced was hearing a thwack at the bottom then darkness.

A pulse in his head drumming along to a thumping migraine was his wake up greeting. Tuning in on someone roaring a bunch of words. “- TO STAY ALIVE! NOW LOOK AT HIM!” Blake squinted an eye open. He was laying on his side at the bottom of the short cliff area. Surrounded by rocks, some coated red in blood. Two blurry forms coming to focus. One had another slammed up against the cliff side. Verbally ripping into them by their scolding shouts. “- YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” He heard them seethe through their teeth. Shoving the other down. “Pick him up, we're taking him to the cave.” When they turned toward Blake his vision cleared enough to see who it was before him.

VAL?! His mind screamed. His eyes shooting open yanked her attention toward him. Caught off guard by him suddenly waking, she didn't have a chance to give orders. He jumped up from his laying position. Someone must've been leaning over him, because when he did he slammed his head into someone's jaw. The clack of their teeth together rattled down through his skull. Knocking whoever it was back into others nearby. Shoving the rest of himself up he ran back down the hillside he worked so hard to climb.

He heard Val shouting orders not far behind him. “Grab him!” Sounds of separating plants catching up behind him.

“Fuck, fuck, shit!” He let out a chain of panicked curses. Coughing again worsened his wheezing. Hating that his leg was burning and now his lungs were too. Can't stop, can't stop! Mind repeating simple thoughts of escape. Half tempted to jump back into the river where Val couldn't follow. He certainly couldn't out run her with how injured he was. Weighing his chances he headed for the river. Prepared to jump in when he heard a familiar terrifying sound. A howling yell from a raging Marta. Blake, out of old reflex, almost fled back. Forcing himself to rush forward in knowing it was now something safe. When they saw her appear up the bank. Blake collapsed down into an exhausted heap past her. Catching sight of Val slamming herself back into the dirt to stop before Marta. Ripping up the loose dirt under her heels in the process. Scrambling back up away from Marta moving in on her. The other heretics scurried away in various directions. When they were out of sight Marta turned to check on Blake.

“Are you well?”

Blake wheezed, unable to answer from his seated position. Everything catching up he hacked until he vomited what liquid was in his stomach. Fighting to not black out as Marta stood guard over him. “How?” He breathed out.

“I was watching you pass the mountain until the mudslide took you away. When those idiots separated to search I didn't trust them to find you. Came upon Val shouting so much he must've caught you.”

He still couldn't speak, merely nodding to show he heard.

“What happened to your leg?”

He looked down, fearful that he messed it up worse in all that sudden running. Taken aback by his leg having been treated. The branch gone, his wound packed over by a dark green poultice then wrapped in clean gauze. Checking his vest he found another bundle of gauze missing. They fixed my leg? Guess they just wanted all of me to make it back. My dead body wouldn't be too fun to keep prisoner. “Mudslide.” Was his best answer for now.

“Blake?” He heard a familiar voice. John approached down along the river. “What happened, are you okay?!”

“Damned goats almost got him.” Marta answered for him.

“Ugh, can we please call them something else.” Mumbling up to the two. “What about his leg?”

“Mudslide.”

“Can you get up at all?”

Blake shook his head. Marta continued to speak for him. “I wouldn't force him up for a few hours. Maybe not 'till tomorrow.”

“Okay, that's for the best just by lookin' at you. I'm gonna go back out and find the boys. If I don't, I'll return to set us up a camp.”

“Watch out for goats.” Marta warned, smirking at the ridiculous label. Blake would've chuckled if he had the spare air to.

“Can we please call them something else.” John whined again.

Blake thought a bit harder for a name. Remembering a certain book he read that fit the heretics' views. Going against religious suppression and wanting freedom. “Voltaire's?” Catching his breath again. “Big author, argued for freedom against church.” He surprisingly wheezed out in one go. Was also a really good band. He thought back to his school days listening to their music.

“Good enough.” John went off to search.

A few hours passed by the time he returned with the others. Able to get up on his feet they walked Blake from the area. Expecting the Voltaire's to make a night visit if they stuck around. A campfire was made with everyone popping open a can of food for dinner.

“Good news is we got far today. We're already on the other side of Voltaire mountain.” John spooned out some more chili.

“Not far enough, still gotta cross the rest of the mountain range. That'll take m-m-most the day for us. We won't make it outside 'till nightfall. We'll have to wait for stores to open next morning if its t-t-too late.”

“If we manage to get a truck the return journey won't be as long at least. You think the doctors still around?”

“Didn't hear anything about him leaving last I was there.”

“Where is he? Down a back alley?”

Jacob shook his head. “He's in a small doctors office. All legally set up, for the most part. When you go in you say you have a prescription and h-h-hand a piece with our symbol scribbled on it.” Flashing a small bit of tanned hide with the cross entwined by circles branded on. “Doctor takes us in back for business.”

Blake continued to ask questions. Wanting to know how everything would go down. How the doctor himself acted. Whether or not he seemed to be a real doctor at all or a scam artist in a white coat. What he was told by Jacob settled his worry's. The doctor has an honest-ish job. A legal place with all the proper paperwork to back it up if inspectors came knocking. He was just greedy for money and saw more business selling pills out back. Done talking for now they rested down against their bags. Marta stayed up to guard until morning.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requested by three anons. Enjoy reading, my lovelies! ;-)

Words: 2360 Warnings: pure smut

Additional NSFW warnings: spanking

-

Loki had been distant from you lately. There was nothing wrong with your relationship of course but ever since he had officially joined the Avengers after them fixing what they had messed up after defeating Thanos, he was working nonstop. They were draining him with risky missions, using every ounce of his seidr to their advantage, and while you were happy he was finally included in a way, you knew they did so with the intention of letting him pay for his actions prior to fighting on their side—to “make up” for the troubles he had caused, the pain he had inflicted on humanity and the lives he had taken.

New York, the Chitauri, the sceptre, the mind games… they still failed to realise none of it had truly been Loki’s fault—a circumstance which made your already cool attitude towards the Avengers bitter.

Loki had not been ignoring you, exactly. It seemed, however, now that his relationship with his own brother was finally changing for the better, he had simply forgotten that there was more to him than a mindless soldier saving the planet numerous times; and while Thor was one reason he kept complying with their orders, albeit using his own, if not questionable methods sometimes, the other was of a selfish nature. He would prove to them he was worthy of being called a hero. He would make women squeal for him just to spite them—but most importantly, he would impress you.

Loki would never admit that, of course, he was far too proud. Yet it was no secret how much he enjoyed your generous pampering when he returned from a long mission and bathed him, washing his hair, soaping his body and paying special attention to his manhood, hardening for you as soon as you brought your palms to his naked skin. But that was only when he returned. He still made tender love to you at night, ensuring you could fall asleep sated and satisfied before taking his own release but no longer, so it seemed, would you randomly pounce on each other throughout the day and spend hours eliciting orgasms from one another. You could barely remember the last time he had initiated some sexy roleplay or simply surprised you and tied you up in the living room to have his way with you, forcing climax after climax from your body until you almost fainted into his arms.

Whatever distracted him so much from taking time for himself, for you, it ought to change tonight. Loki was going to slog his guts out if he kept going like this and you were certainly not going to let him do that. An orgasm or two, or a dozen, would pose the perfect distraction.

You had just taken a shower. A long one, not a short one—all a short shower contained was soap, warm water and sometimes washing your hair. A long shower involved shaving, a hair mask, maybe a peeling and in your case, painting your nails in Loki’s colours.

Naked, you tiptoed towards the living room. It was chilly. You had recently turned off the heating now that it was getting warmer, the cool air instantly raising goose bumps on your limbs. Loki was sitting at your desk which you usually used for writing, leaning over a bunch of documents, photographs and briefing packs Fury had provided him with.

Quietly, you stepped in.

“I am missing something… those signatures are of magical origin…” He muttered, chewing on his pen. In another universe, he could have been a sexy professor teaching the Norse Myths. You bit your lower lip. You should definitely bring this fantasy up to him at some point… perhaps he could give you detention if you didn’t know the correct answer to a question…

He didn’t even look up when you entered the room. You pouted at his back, letting out a loud sigh so he would hear you—he was aware of your presence, of course. There was no tricking him.

“Loki?”

“In a moment, my dear.”

Your second sigh was even louder. Briefly, you even considered sitting down on the sofa and spreading your legs to masturbate in front of him. But then, before you could move, he finally looked up, his eyes widening a little as they roamed over your nude body. Loki swallowed thickly, you could see his Adam’s apple bopping. Stirring a little on his chair, he tilted his head, lips parting slightly. He was practically fucking you with his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I was still hot after taking a shower, so I decided not to put my clothes on just yet. No big deal.” You replied nonchalantly, shrugging in the process.

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “Liar. You are shivering.” Whether it was from the cold or your growing arousal, you could not tell. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

You shrugged once more. He was smirking by the time you gazed down at him expectantly, hoping he would finally abandon those briefing packs and pounce on you like a hungry wolf. But Loki was not stupid. He knew exactly what you were trying to do—and he decided to play along and make you wait until your own impatience drove you crazy. Besides, he needed to get through all of these documents before noon tomorrow. He would travel to Muspelheim with Thor… and he would not be rested enough if he spent the night fucking the living daylights out of you, even if he desired to do just that and abandon this nerve-wrecking mission altogether.

“Well… whatever makes you comfortable, my dear.”

Damn it. You resisted stomping your foot on the ground like a child. Maybe you should masturbate before his eyes. The idea, so you figured, was unbelievably sexy. But then… an even better one struck you.

Not so long ago, Loki had showed you how speak to him telepathically so you could share your thoughts, fears and words with him whenever you were separated. It worked a little like forcing your mind onto him—all you had to do was focus hard. His seidr took care of the rest. He would be able to tell and form an invisible link between you.

You did not do this often, for most of the time you were together and could verbally communicate anyway. Loki had taught you in case of an emergency—or if you two wanted to tattle about the Avengers in their presence. It connected you on such a deep and subconscious level you had even, unintentionally, begun to share dreams.

You wondered… if that also applied to daydreams. Loki had already turned back to the briefing packs, though you did not miss how he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Well then… sneakily, you sat down on the sofa in a lascivious pose and let your thoughts wander off.

You imagined… falling to your knees for him, looking up at him with innocent eyes as you bite your lower lip and bring your hands to the buttons of his leather trousers. He hisses—a considerable bulge already forming behind the dark fabric.

Immediately, Loki sat up straight. There was a connection then. You held back a mischievous chuckle.

Slowly—painfully so—you pull them all the way down to his ankles, revealing his semi-hard cock to you. It springs to life with joyful anticipation, twitching a little under your greedy gaze. You lick your lips, eager to taste him. You wrap your hand around him then, jerking him for a lazy moment before you lower your lip onto his tip, suckling gently. You couldn’t resist. Your hands are never enough with him. A moan escapes his lips.

Oh, no… a real moan escaped him, still sitting at your desk.

He was already clenching his fists. Oh yes, Trickster, you thought. Two can play this game.

You closed your eyes, letting your daydream unfold freely and wherever it would take you.

You lick over the underside of his entire length, now rock-hard between your fingers. Precum is leaking from his tip. You lap it up with your tongue greedily before pushing him into your mouth, inch by antagonising inch.

A giggle escaped your lips when he broke the pen in his hands. It snapped in two like a piece of wood, spilling blue ink all over the desk. He waved his hand to clean it, breathing heavily as he did and still—he insisted on keeping his gaze on those stupid briefing packs.

Bopping your head up and down his length, you take him as deep as you possibly can and moan, sending vibrations through his cock. He groans in your daydream, throwing his head back. He buries his fingers in your hair, holding it tightly to keep you in place and guide you. Faster and faster, until his hips start bucking forward. Saliva is dripping from your chin, your mouth so full you could barely try and swallow.  He tastes so good…

The real Loki in your shared living room growled. He was facing you now, glaring at you in a downright threatening manner, but this was too good to stop it now. You kept your eyes closed.

Loki comes. He pulls out of your mouth, forcing your head back possessively while his other hand jerked himself fast, spilling his seed all over your face. It lands on your cheeks, your lips and your chin, marking you as his. You moan, tongue darting out to clean yourself up.

Your hand, in real life, sneaked between your legs to bring some relief to your throbbing clit.

That did it. Loki jumped up from your chair so ferociously he knocked it to the ground with a loud bang and strutted over to you fast and determined. The look on his face was all but dark and promising. You opened your mouth to protest, albeit half-heartedly, when he had already lifted you up without any effort whatsoever.

He held you tightly against his side, your body hanging from his arm like a fish on a hook. You only realised your bare backside was quite within his reach and presented to him vulnerably when he landed the first slap, sending a stinging sensation through your skin.

“Ow!” Fuck… so much for spanking. You gulped, biting your lower lip to suppress a moan. “Fuck, Loki!”

“Is this what you wanted, my little pet? To be punished for teasing me like that?” Another slap, landing on the other cheek. This time you couldn’t hold back your moan. Loki was holding back his strength and yet, your arse already felt like your bottom had caught fire. It was burning, tingling and tickling all at the same time. You could practically imagine your skin turning all red from the harsh impact.

“So naughty…” Loki kept spanking you thoroughly but your bottom wasn’t the only thing heating up. You were dripping wet, leaking down your thighs by the time he pulled you up even higher to examine your wet pussy. The sweet pain mixed with the promise of relief almost made you scream.

“Loki, fuck… please!”

“Please what, my dear? My… you are positively soaking. You enjoy it, do you not? You enjoy taking a good thrashing for me?” An animalistic growl escaped his lips.

“P-please… I need you inside me.”

You were unable to see it from your current position but Loki was as hard as a rock. His erection, painfully confined in his leather trousers, was throbbing with need for your tight quim. He was not going to be gentle with you tonight.

Fiercely, he put you on your feet again so fast you felt dizzy, pressed you against the cold wall and held your legs up so you had to wrap it around his hips to not fall straight to the floor. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders when his seidr took care of freeing his member so he could bury himself inside you to the hilt, taking no time for a tender intrusion. You deserved a hard fucking now, if anything for torturing him like that.

Loki’s mouth came crashing down on yours, not leaving you any opportunity to complain—not that you wanted to. Quite on the contrary… arching your back, you took his rough and fast thrusts knocking all air from your lungs, your legs desperately wrapping around him. He would not let you fall and get hurt, you knew that despite his frenzy and yet, this primal and downright animalistic side of him had your entire body melt. You were trembling—arousal and lust rushing through you like a drug. Breaking the kiss and throwing your head back, you came for him, fast and hard.

Clenching around his cock repeatedly, Loki fucked you through your orgasm until your eyes rolled to the back of your head as wave after wave of pure pleasure cursed through your veins, making your blood boil underneath your skin. You screamed his name when he sank his teeth into your neck and bit you as gently as he could muster the moment he could no longer hold back, your climax triggering his own. With but a few more powerful and eager thrusts, he began to twitch and jerk against your still contracting walls and emptied himself inside you, filling you up with his warm seed until it dribbled down your inner thighs. Panting, your head dropped against his shoulder. You were putty in his arms, helpless like a fawn.

“Loki…”

He smiled weakly, still bedazzled by his high. Deeply sated, he took a deep breath and cradled you in his arms, carrying you off to the bedroom. His mission was now forgotten—what was it he had been pondering over again? For the moment, all he could think about was the beautiful woman in his arms, his slowly softening length still resting deep inside of your warm quim.

Are you okay? He was too exhausted for words—and so were you.

I am, you replied in your mind, sighing contently. I’ve missed you.

Loki hummed. I’ve missed you too.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[callboxkat]

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 1/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective, plus a few new scenes. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone. Please read the warnings!

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 1764

Part 2 

Ao3 Link

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.

“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.

Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”

The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”

Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”

“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.

Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”

Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.

But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.

The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.

Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.

The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.

“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.

Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”

“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”

Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.

“You know you love it.”

Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”

Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”

“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”

“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”

Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”

Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”

Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”

“Outside.”

“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”

“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.

Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.

Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”

“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”

“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”

“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”

Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”

“Get a garden like a normal person.”

“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”

Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.

Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.

Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”

“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”

Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”

“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes?”

“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”

You are, though. “Well, I am.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”

“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”

Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”

“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”

“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”

Roman grinned and left the shop.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Enter the Kitsune - Prologue pt3

Warnings: Strong language

Masterlist

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Prologue part 3

After bolting out of the campsite I just kept running, glad of the fact I opted to keep my running shoes on. The noises of the men behind me faded and I began crunching my way through the edge of a tree line at a slower pace. Can’t exactly run through trees in the dark I’m more likely to smack into a tree trunk than escape anything. Panting to try to catch my breath I slowed enough to crouch down by a tree. The rough bark against my back through the silk kimono was strangely reassuring. If I had battery on my phone, I could have googled who the hell those guys were and might not be at such a disadvantage. Wait? Google? What the hell are you thinking Aerion its not like there is internet in this time period! Guess for the minute I’m safe from the madmen at least.

The sound of soft chiming of bells in the darkness was eerie. I could also make out the brittle scrunch sound of dry leaves under someone’s foot as they got closer. Please tell me they haven’t found me already. I dragged myself back up to standing fixing my eyes on where I thought the approaching noise was coming from, ready to run again if I had too.

“Young lady, what are you doing in the woods this late at night?” A man who looked like he had seen more than one-night living outside approached me with a smile. His skin was little weather-beaten, his black hair was a little dishevelled but it was hard to tell if it was how it was cut or if he had natural bedhead. The rich purple fabric and tarnished golden colour wrapped around him was faded with age in places. His clothes were a little different to the guys I’ve met so far. Guess he’s no samurai. He carried a walking stick that had metal links hanging on it. Those must have been what was chiming. The golden hoops glinted in the dark the closer he got. Hang on is he a Buddhist monk? “I am called Kennyo, and I am a travelling monk. Perhaps I can be of assistance to you?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” If I hadn’t already got my back pressed against the tree, I probably would have backed up more. His words seemed unthreatening and harmless but there was something in this guys aura that just made me cautious. Actually, the way his clothes hang and his height … he could easily match the shadowy figure I saw in the temple about to attack Nobunaga. As that thought drifted through my confused hurting mind Kennyo took a long stride towards me moving almost like the smoke I had escaped earlier, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“You should return home quickly. Demons lurk in the woods at night.” With his face closer and much clearer now I could not only see his bottomless coal black eyes but also a nasty looking scar that ran from his forehead to his left cheek in a crescent moon shape over the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you for worrying about me. I’ll do just that. Goodbye!” Something they don’t tell you about head injuries is that it’s a lot harder to keep your head when faced with strange creepy people that approach you. Pulling away from him as naturally as I could, I tried to hide that fear and my suspicions of him being an assassin. I dashed off deeper into the trees. No time to worry about randomly smacking into a tree in the dark I just need to get away from everything for a few minutes so I can attempt to come up with a plan. That being said where the hell am I even going? Not like there is any lighting or markers around here to tell me. I know I tested the theory earlier but I still really want this to be a very vivid dream. The branches on the trees got a bit lower and the leaves on them started to sting my face as I pushed through them. I ended up squeezing my eyes shut hoping to make it to a clearing soon.

“Watch it!” A man’s voice cried out. Huh? I felt a set of hands grab me so hard that the sudden forceful stop made my stomach lurch inside me.

“Wah-! What the hell?” Opening my eyes to see what had happened I ended up losing my footing a little. My stumble which had a domino effect with whoever had grabbed me causing us both to hit the deck with a thud.

“Ouch!”

“Crap Sorry… you ok?” I asked registering the fact that my impact on the ground had been cushioned. The red fabric and warmth I could feel against my body were enough to make me move to prevent causing further possible injuries.

“Whoa, are you crazy? Don’t move!” The man that was on the floor had scrambled to his feet quickly grabbing me from behind just in time to prevent me from taking a short walk off a very steep cliff. “That was close.”

“Thanks for saving me.” Still in his grasp, I managed to turn without him resisting me. I had no idea how close he was, my nose was practically squished into his. A pair of brown eyes looking into mine this close made my breath catch in the back of my throat. He was handsome enough and well-built. So, this is what my accidental, very unhappy crash mat looks like huh?

“Uh!” He must have realised the same thing as he snapped up to standing tall, my nose now meeting his chin instead of his nose. Obverting his eyes from me I noticed he was looking uncomfortable. It was difficult to tell in the bad lighting but he looked like he might also be blushing. Hehehe that’s kinda cute actually. If circumstances weren’t what they are something tells me I could have some fun teasing this guy. “I don’t need thanks. Just give me some space, will you!”

“Yeah. Sure thing.” I nodded and tried to move away only to have him grab hold of me once more. Hey! Come on make up your damn mind dude either you want space or you don’t.

“Not that way.” He sounded a little panicked behind the frustrated tone he had taken on.

“I was doing what you said and giving you space.” I was becoming tired with this game. I just escaped one guy who had no concept of personal space and free will and now seemed to be in the arms of another. Just my luck.

“Well, watch it. That rock is loose. Can’t you see that for yourself?” He pointed at the ground. I saw nothing, it was just a flat rocky surface with some dirt and tufts of grass on it. The way he made it sound it was like it was blatantly obvious to anyone who just took a glance at it that it was dangerous.

“Sorry but I don’t have predictive abilities when it comes to working out what rocks are about to do. Clearly, you have the advantage of me on that. I guess it might be something to do with DNA.” I snipped back at him. This guy is so thick headed it wouldn’t surprise me if he turned out to had rocks in his head. Actually, that is sort of mean, he just saved my life after all I should cut his lack of social skills some slack.

“DNA?” He was seriously confused as he repeated that word back to me. Note to self, some jokes just don’t historically translate.

“Ok look. I’m sorry alright. Sort of having a terrible night right now.” I apologised whilst sighing and tried to explain that tonight was not normal for me.

“Hey, I’m not mad at you, okay?” He spoke over me quickly attempting to make me feel better. You might change your mind on that if you had a clue what I just inferred with the rock thing. “Sorry for being kinda rough. Come on, I’ll help.” Smiling he offered me his hand. His display of awkward kindness was touching.

“Thank you.” I let him take my hand and walked us both away from the apparently obvious dangerous rock. There is something about this guy that makes me feel like he is somehow trustworthy. I can’t quite put my finger on it at the moment, maybe if I meet him again I might have a better idea.

“What’s this, Yuki? We’ve been here ten minutes and you’ve already found yourself a girl?” My head turned to look for the source of a new voice. Ok, who’s this now? Seriously I could walk to the corner shop back home and see hardly anyone. Accidentally time travel and suddenly I’m drowning in talkative people. Although if some of them managed to keep their mouths shut and hands to themselves, I would have no complaints with the general consensus that they are all attractive enough to be models. A red-headed man emerged from the edge of the forest that I had just run through. He was definitely taller than anyone else I had met tonight so far.

“Don’t tease me, Lord Shingen. She was about to dive off the cliff.” Yuki called back at the approaching man sounding a little like a child.

“Look I was running and didn’t know there was a cliff there. No need to make I sound like I’m a crazy person.” I complained directly to the man at my side.

“Yeah? You were running in the woods, at night, alone… sounds totally normal.”

“I was looking for a way back… Besides its more normal than reading rocks in the dark.” Whether he intended to bait me or not, Yuki’s sarcastic remark got a rise out of me.

“Hmm. Smoke from Honno-ji and a woman all alone at night. Perhaps you’re a ghost? Though you’re the most beautiful ghost I’ve ever seen.” Shingen joined us whilst we were bickering. I guess if you are that tall you develop some unnatural abilities with crossing large distances fast when walking. He had an alluring smile on his face. His broad shoulders and bare chest concealed just enough under his brown loosely fitted kimono which just added to his air of effortless sex appeal.

“I’m not a ghost.” As I ignored his compliment his eyes narrowed. A flirtatious look crossed his handsome face as he continued looking at me. Guess this one has the gift of the gab.

“Your ability to spew cheap pick-up lines never ceases to amaze me.” Exasperated judgement cast in an icy tone announced the arrival of yet another man. Oh, come on! Even when I am at work and getting sent to talk to models and help on shoots, I don’t get this. What do they do around here? plant “hot guy” seeds that only grow and come alive at night to talk to confused time travellers?

“I just call it like I see it, Kenshin.” The man called Kenshin was wrapped in a black cloak with a white fur collar. It was a striking sight even before you took in his pale blonde hair that framed his face drawing you into a set of beautifully mismatched eyes. Shingen had a presence but this Kenshin guy had a whole aura of his own.  

As we were all standing in a friendly if slightly uncomfortable gathering, I caught movement at the treeline. A silent shadow detached from the darker shades taking on a human shape.

“My lords, I’ve returned. Nobunaga’s forces have extinguished the fires at Honno-ji.” Whoever this was they were walking confidently towards us. Their movements were the same as everyone else except for the fact they were apparently able to absorb sound as they moved. The fabric was gathered around them in tight layers and the way the varying shades of dark blue and dark green blended with other colours on them it made for some very effective camouflage. There was a mask on half of his face like a balaclava and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Dark brown hair fell naturally in a style that most people would spend hours on in the morning, I get the feeling he just sort of wakes up with it. Life can be so cruel at times. No wonder I didn’t see a clear outline straight away.

“Thank you for your investigation, Sasuke. So, I presume Nobunaga is alive, then?” Kenshin’s enquiry supplies the name of the mysterious silent man.

“Yes.” Sasuke nodded once before returning to a silent statue. So, he was doing an investigation like a kind of spy. Ah no wait a minute if this is really the past and these are samurai, I guess that makes him a ninja maybe? One thing was certain the atmosphere with the news is not one of celebration.

“He’s got the devil’s luck.” Shingen huffed as he sat down on a large boulder.

“Or he’s the devil.” Yuki grumbled in agreement. The friendly atmosphere was certainly gone. The small group of men said nothing, exchanging silent glances with each other as they pondered their own thoughts. How can you make it feel like the air has all suddenly gotten heavy when you are outside? The ninja looked about the men present before suddenly looking at me.

“You—” He begins to say something before abruptly stopping himself. His eyes had widened a little after looking at me but now returned to normal behind his glasses.

“What about me now?” I thought I may as well ask after all he clearly wished to say something and given how he clammed up it wasn’t going to come out any quicker by waiting.

“We happened to run into her here. Do you know this woman?” Kenshin asked looking at me with more scrutiny than he had before.

“No. I was mistaken.” The ninja replied quickly. Of course, he doesn’t. How the hell would he? I’m not exactly a local. “Though I spotted a village on the way here. She must be from there. I’ll escort her home.” He… what?

“Moving quick, aren’t you, Sasuke? Give the rest of us a chance, will you?” Shingen had shed his earlier doom and gloom exterior and reverted to what I took to be his natural form of a giant friendly tease. His words had that friendly bounce to them as he spoke.

“Lord Shingen, please. You and the others should return to the city.” Excusing himself he takes my hand without a word and starts leading me back to the forest.

“Hey, hold up. You’re mistaken. I mean I’m not from here at all –” I protested as my hand was held in a deceptively strong grip and lightly tugged in front of me. Seriously? Has no one in the past heard of a little thing called respect?

“I know. I’ve been expecting you.”

---

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Random Bits: FF7 03

I’m actually not sure I’ve already posted this here or not, so I’ going to post it (possibly again)

[Setting - Cloud finally finds out what gets under Zack’s skin.]

[Location - the streets of Midgar Edge - noon.]

A disembodied Angeal Head floated across the velvety black screen of Cloud's memory, bouncing slowly in random directions like the ghost of an old Windows Logo screensaver. 

"Go take a walk!" it commanded with each ricochet.

It was joined by a Zack Head, which also began bouncing randomly around and repeating "No, don't eat him!"

Cloud scowled to himself as the memory flickered unbidden across the backs of his eyelids.

*woowoowooscenetransitionwoowoowoo*

1st Class SOLDIER Timothy Titsworth burst into the conference room with the force of an angry soccer mom who has just found out her little angel was allowed to watch a PG-13 movie. Known as "Tiddy" (because there was no joining an army without acquiring some kind of weird, cool, humorous, or downright embarrassing nickname that you either loved or hated), Timothy showed great promise as a SOLDIER, but he was overly ambitious, and more than a bit egotistical.  

"What the hell, Tiddy!" Angeal barked, rising from his seat at the conference table, where he had been discussing plans for the upcoming Games with Zack, Cloud, and President Rufus Shinra.

"What the hell, indeed, Sir!" Titsworth snarled, saluting as an afterthought. "I want to be assigned to a higher level training mission-!"

"No." Cloud said firmly as Angeal apologized to Rufus for the interruption. "I already told you that you aren't ready. Get out, now. I am in the middle of a meeting, and you are out of line, Private Tiddy." he continued, deliberately stressing Titsworth's rank as an unspoken reminder of who he was speaking to, and unintentionally making a pun that caused Zack to make a very un-General like snorting sound.

Titsworth looked at Zack like a miffed child hoping that Daddy might say 'yes', even though Mommy  had already said 'no'. 

"General Fair, I-!"

The room was suddenly full of angry dragon. Papers scattered, people made exclamations of surprise, chairs tipped, and someone laughed as Cloud Shifted into his ELIETE form and, with mouth gaping, lunged across the desk at Titsworth. 

Zack jumped on Cloud's long neck, landing just behind his head, and managed to grab the long, whisker/tendril/moustache/feeler thingies trailing from the sides of his snout and hauled on them like reins while shouting "No, don't eat him!"

Massive jaws with long fangs snapped shut inches from Titsworth's face and Cloud goose-honked in pained surprise, pulling his head up and back, twisting it from side to side while backing up as he tried to relieve the sharp pulling on his face feelers.  He Shifted back to his normal shape, leaving Zack sitting in mid-air for the length of an eye blink before gravity caught up with reality and he crashed to the floor.

Zack immediately bounced up and grabbed Cloud by the arm before he could lunge at Titsworth again.

"Go take a walk, "Angeal snapped at Cloud, who was all scowls and hisses. 

"But what about-!" Titsworth began from where he had fetched up against the wall. Like a terrier with a rat, he was not about to let the argument go, out of either a poor sense of self-preservation, or out-right stupidity.

"Shut up, before I tell General Fair to let him go, and we end up having to send your mother an 'In Sympathy for Your Loss' card!" Angeal snapped with that tight-lipped, angry-eyed expression that most teens didn't even have to see to know it was being made. It was an expression that had its own sound. 

Titsworth huffed, but closed his mouth. He remained on the floor, sitting very still as Cloud stormed out of the room. Dragons were like cats. They would go after anything that moved, so it was best not to draw their attention.

*woowoowooscenetransitionwoowoowoo* Cloud shook his head at the memory, causing the Heads to bounce violently around and collide with each other with a double "ouch!" before they faded away. He was only mildly annoyed by now, having walked several blocks, but he couldn't help but feel unjustly put-upon. It wasn't like he'd chosen his ELITE form, and he couldn't help that it would sometimes take over.  It wasn't his fault that dragons had a very simple idea of what constituted 'conflict resolution', and that it mostly involved eating whomever caused the conflict. 

Go take a walk...

Cloud would have rather gone out for a nice long flight. It was much more fun, and relaxing, but it did tend to stir up the city's inhabitants. There was just something about a black winged shadow passing overhead that would send people screaming in panic. Old instincts died hard, and deep in most the primitive part of their brains, people were still just small, soft-bodied squeaky creatures hiding under leaves and flinching at shadows.

He turned a corner and continued walking briskly along the shop lined street, noticing that other pedestrians were trying to avoid him without looking like they were avoiding him. It might have worked, if it had been one or two individuals. There is just nothing subtle about an entire crowd suddenly crossing to the other side of the street.  

Cloud found himself completely alone on the sidewalk. That was fine with him. At least he didn't have to feel like he was in the middle of a school of salmon during their running season. 

The ponderous growl of a heavy engine pulled Cloud from his musings. He paused and turned just in time to watch one of the army's humvees pull up to the curb beside him.

Zack, grinning from ear to ear, leaned toward the open passenger side window and said, in his best Creepy Witch Voice, "Need a ride little girl?"

Cloud hissed at him and resumed walking, forcing Zack to drive slowly along beside him.

"Come on, Spiky! I'm sorry I pulled your face feelers!"

Cloud pointedly ignored him.

"Don't be salty,"

Cloud kept walking.

"Don't be like that-!" Zack steered around a parked car and rolled back along side Cloud. "I'll let you work my stick-shift!"

The offer was met with an icy side eye and frigid silence.

"I'll pay you," Zack venture playfully, with a cheeky grin.

"You can't afford me." Cloud replied curtly.

Zack's grin froze, then shattered into an open mouthed gape as the comment hit him like a cast-iron lightning bolt. The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the feeling that a white-hot icicle had just been fired through his brain.

"I...did...did you...just...?" he stammered, the humvee stalling as he briefly forgot how to drive. Well, I'll be dipped in shit! Now I know how Dr. Hyansen felt! Zack thought after he recovered enough from the unexpected sarcasm that he was able to get the vehicle restarted.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Zack called as he caught up to Cloud and parked. "Just get in, okay? Look," he said, holding up a brown paper bag, "I brought shrimp yum yum sitcks!"

Cloud's eyes were instantly glued to the bag. The scent of shrimp and vegetables in a crispy wrapper covered in toasted sesame seeds hit him straight in the olfactory receptors. He struggled with himself, pushing for Caution, while the dragon part of him drooled all over Common Sense. 

It's obviously a bribe, Cloud warned the dragon.

Shrimp yum yum sticks!

No, he's using food to-!

Shrimp yum yum sticks!

But, listen, he-!

NO! SHRIMP YUM YUM STICKS!

Cloud's stomach growled, and he gave in. As he climbed into the passenger's seat, he had to laugh at himself. Hey little boy, I've got some candy in my van, he thought with a wry snort.

"What are you laughing at?" Zack asked.

"Nothing." Cloud said slightly irritated at how he would do almost anything for those stupid sticks. It was a good thing Zack hadn't brought canned cat food... Cloud snatched the bag from Zack and took a big bite out of one of the sticks while the dragon part of him happily chanted Shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, shrimp!

"You can still work my stick-shift if you want," Zack offered jokingly, patting the shift handle. He completely missed the slight tightening around Cloud's eyes, and the tiniest of upward curving at the corners of his mouth. 

"I'll pass," Cloud replied, the words coming out slightly distorted as he shoved another yum yum stick into his mouth. "Your knob is too small."

"Wha-!" Zack all but yelped, a full body cringe slamming down his spine as his body tried to physically force the word 'knob' back out through his ears. 

"The knob," Cloud repeated as Zack cringed again, "It's, too small so it makes your hand hurt on long drives."

Zack shot him a suspicious look, but it merely ricocheted harmlessly off the look of genuine sincerity and yum yum stick crumbs on Cloud's face.

"Maybe I should put in a request for bigger knobs..." Cloud suggested, "Bigger knobs would fit more comfortably in your hand and make them easier to manipulate for longer periods of time, right?"

Zack flinched and Cloud could almost see his brain shudder as it tried to use its own stem to tear out his eardrums.

"Stop it!" Zack snapped.

"Stop what?"

"Saying...'knob',"

"What's wrong with the word 'knob'?" Cloud asked, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion while Zack cringed.

"You saying it. It's just...wrong,"

"I'm saying 'knob' wrong?"

"NO! Just stop saying it!"

"There's nothing wrong with knobs," Cloud chided. "Lot's of things have knobs," he continued while Zack cringed  and flinched along. 

"Like radios. Radios have knobs. And tv's have knobs. Dressers have knobs. Oh, and cabinets have knobs. Beds have knobs, and you can put a knob of butter on your toast. Trees have knobs too, and hands can get knobby, and even people have knobs! My mom had knobs and she said that when I annoyed her I was 'twisting her knobs'...or was that 'pushing her buttons? I forget-!"

"Stop saying 'knob'! Zack wailed, hands clamped protectively over his ears.

"Why are you getting so bent out of shape over the word 'knob'?

Zack bristled at the word, his hair lifting like the hackles of an angry wolf. It was then that he noticed the slight crinkling around Cloud's eyes.

"You dick!" Zack snarled, annoyed. "Play Backwater Dummy with me, will you?" He leaned in close, and with a malicious grin, started wiggling his eyebrows.

Cloud recoiled, Shifting into his half-form and hissing shrimp yum yum stick all over Zack's face as memories of a certain Inspector's rather mobile eyebrows rose up to haunt him like a greasy meal at 3am after six beers. 

Unperturbed by the macerated mist, Zack continued wiggling his eyebrows, laughing evilly, "How do you like that huh? Say 'knob' again, you little turd!" He reached out to playfully poke Cloud. 

Out of pure reflex Cloud bit the offending appendage.

Zack yelped more out of surprise than pain, and snatched his hand away, retreating back to the driver's seat to inspect the damage.

"Not cool, man, you gave me a noodle hand!" He said with a pout, illustrating his grievance by flapping his now numb hand around on the end of his wrist.

"I didn't mean to,"

Zack started using his left hand to rapidly and repetitively smack his right arm against his thigh. 

"You want a rag...or... something?"

Zack paused, eyeing Cloud suspiciously. Almost afraid of the answer, he risked asking "For what?"

"So you won't be walking around the rest of the day wearing that  shrimp facial."

"Oh. Yeah." Zack replied, realizing that the remnants of shrimp yum yum sticks were quietly getting crusty on his skin. He took the napkins Cloud fished out of the crumpled bag  on the floor boards and awkwardly used his left hand to wipe his face.

"How's your hand?" Cloud inquired, a note of guilt hovering in his voice.

"Hanging in there," Zack replied with a lopsided grin.

Cloud signed into his hands in mild irritation at Zack's penchant for making jokes out of everything.He felt Zack patting him on the shoulder. There was something awkward about the gesture that had nothing to do with the current atmosphere. 

Looking up, Cloud saw Zack using his left hand to hold his numb arm up by the elbow and slap the appendage down on his shoulder. He imagined that this was exactly how it felt to be patted by a zombie. Cloud snorted in reluctant amusement and shoved the dead arm off his shoulder. The limp limb bounced off the back of the seat and slithered down the armrest to swing loosely at Zack's side.

Both men stared at the arm mutely until it stopped swinging like a slowly winding down clock pendulum before looking at each other.

Zack arched an eyebrow and said, "What? You like the angle of the dangle?"

Cloud rolled his eyes so hard he almost became the first person to find out what the backs of his own eye sockets looked like.

Zack laughed and started the vehicle.

"What are you doing?" Cloud asked in alarm, "You can't drive like that!"

"Sure I can. I'll drive, and you can work my stick!"

"Move, I'm driving."

"Fine. Killjoy.Want me to shift your stick?" Zack asked as Cloud settled into the driver's seat.

"No thanks, I can do it myself."

"Riiiight!" Zack drawled, doing a single finger gun.

"Do you want two noodle arms? Because that's how you get two noodle arms."

"Okay, okay. It's gone, see?" Zack pretended to chuck the offensive appendage armament behind him. 

"You know, it's a good thing we aren't too far from Base." Cloud said as he pulled out into traffic. 

"Why?"

"My hand won't have time to cramp up because of the--!"

"Don't say it--!"

"Knob."

Zack's distressed cry of "Stop saying 'knob'!" rang in the air before dopplering into silence as they drove away.

End.

[fitchcontira1985-blog]

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[gaming-rabbot]

Rabbot Reviews: Far Cry 5

Great taste, empty calories.

Far Cry 5 is the latest game in quite the lineage of a series known, as you might surmise, as Far Cry. Game number 6, actually, dependent on how canon you feel Primal was. FC as it stands now, though, is a bit of a… how to put it? A long call? A distant yell? An outlying wail? A remote shout? No, a far cry from the original two games, before Ubisoft bought the franchise.

(Yeah, that’s the phrase. Glad I thought of it, though I don’t know where I got it.)

((Incidentally, Remote Shout is the name of my new indie punk garage band. Album drops: never, because this is a joke.))

Starting after Far Cry 3, Ubisoft has been telling their dev teams to make lightning strike twice. Thus, each game hereafter has been an excited waiting game of seeing how they’ll try and ultimately fail to match the demented, yet incredibly charismatic villain that was Vaas.

And 5 feels like this illogical conclusion of just that. Because you have not one, not two, but four scenery-eating, rompy villains. Less a refined, precise attempt at the concept, and more of a blunderbuss approach; hoping to tickle a little of everyone’s villain fancy.

That, I feel, is the perfect metaphor for the game in general.

Last call to avoid spoilers.

Speaking of fitting descriptions of the entire game, let’s start with the intro. Because I have mixed feelings about it, at best. There’s a lot it does right, and some things it simply gets wrong, in regards to the rest of the narrative as a whole.

The pacing and atmosphere are phenomenal. The very air feels heavy around you as you enter into the church, here to take the titular Joseph Seed away from his flock. The pressure of the stakes are established flawlessly, leaving a feeling of palpitation, and a true understanding of just how dangerous Joseph is. Surprised as I was, the game even managed to shock me a little.

In that respect, it’s fantastic.

But then the game uses the cop crew you rolled in with as your motivation for the entire rest of the game, in the form of saving them from the Seed family, and oh god, it’s Fallout 4 all over again.

Just like the Bethesda example above, this aspect of the intro simply doesn’t work. And not just because it’s asking me to unconditionally care about cops.

This sequence of the narrative focuses on every other aspect of narrative setup except for the characters that you’re supposed to get invested in. You get but the most cursory taste of who they are as people. Such a small amount of time can mainly attach their personalities to a specific emotion.

Whitehorse is the calm voice of reason. Marshall Burke is frustrated. Pratt is nervous. And Hudson is… there too, I guess. Look, I’ll be honest, I had to look up half these people’s names for this review. Which I’m sure is only a good sign.

With so little to go on, I found I simply didn’t care whenever a cultist bigwig dangled one of them in front of me on a string, expecting me to bat like a good little kitten. Instead, I yawned and wandered off to play with the packaging the toy had come in.

Like a mischievous little kitten.

Which is such a shame, because there are so many other more interesting characters I actually did care about. And in the few scenes where the Seeds held them to ransom instead, the game suddenly had actual stakes.

Nick and Kim Rye were delightful every time they showed up. Virgil was so honestly sincere, I couldn’t help but like him; and his past, as it unfolded, was interesting to dive into. And Jerome was pretty much cool by default, and an excellent concept for a foil to the cultist bad guys, and everything they stood for.

But the story feels almost unconfident in its execution. Like the team is scared you’ll get bored. So the solution, write more story, or rather, several seemingly self-contained stories across the three separate regions.

With no overarching theme or plot threads besides “Joseph Seed probably gave the command for this at some point,” however, the connection feels loose at best. And this looseness makes the narrative feel all the weaker.

I’d much rather the story had been more focused and condensed. If they’d honed in on about one third as many characters, and if the villains felt a little less redundant, the overall narrative could’ve been much more refined and interesting.

Even the gameplay, while fun, has the same issue.

When traversing from place to place, you can’t drive for five minutes without a dozen random encounters passing you by, whether they travel by wheel or foot or paw. What should be a ten minute trek can sometimes take 30.

Again, it feels like the game is nervous. Like it’s worried that if I’m not firing a gun every two minutes, I’m losing interest. Look, I know this is the age of the internet, but my attention span hasn’t deteriorated that bad.

What were we talking about again?

But it’s sad though, as it detracts from what could be some very nice vistas and scenic routes. I can barely enjoy the quiet, introspective new addition of fishing without a randomly spawned cultist with an exaggerated country accent shouting “Fay-oond ‘eem!” and scaring away all the darn fish with a wild assault rifle volley.

Speaking of guns, let’s talk about politics. Something that could only ever be fun and only ever go over very well.

I don’t want to get too deep into this, as it’s been covered to death, and more eloquently than I’ll probably put it. For a better dive into the subject, I’d recommend watching Errant Signal’s “The Art of Saying Nothing.” To sum it up though, while at face value, FC5 might seem as though it’s about to lay down a scathing indictment of certain aspects of American culture, it really doesn’t.

Not for lack of bringing it up though.

The lady who owns Peaches the cougar, that is to say, the former owner of this sweet large kitten (no I’m not looking up the name this time; she’s not even a narrative footnote), is a prejudicial old woman who lives alone in the woods.

Immediately upon entering her domicile so I could acquire my new kitty and leave, she mentioned that my player character looked vaguely Italian, and made an off-color comment about not wanting her silver/jewels to go missing.

What is this, the turn of the century, last century?

At Hurk’s place, you can meet his dad, who wants to build a wall. What, no, not a wall down there. A wall in the north, to keep out those accursed Canadians and their liberal ideology.

Addressing controversy by obfuscating the real world equivalent is cute, but it lacks the punch that makes it such that it’s proving some kind of point. Here, it’s npc’s that you’re expected to stay on good terms with, so that you can get more quests and goodies, like a new pet or ride.

(Shame you never get a new pet who is also your new ride, though.)

And why? Because they’re supposedly better than the cultists who only physically hurt and impede people different than themselves? What’s the takeaway here supposed to be, that it’s only physical extremism that’s bad and--oh god wait no, it’s Bioshock Infinite all over again.

Of course, we all know the real reason why. To offend as few people as possible. Because every offended party is a potential lost sale. Hence why despite clearly using Christian/Baptist imagery and motifs, no cultist ever actually mentions Jesus by name, and the peggy symbol only vaguely and technically resembles that of a cross.

I’ve bad news for you, though, Ubisoft; it’s too late. If you wanted to offend as few people as possible, it was already over the instant you let writers set it in a rural, dominantly Christian, dominantly white community, in America. Right wing talking heads were lining up to be officially offended the instance promos started showing bad guys toting guns, bibles, and the American flag.

Because despite bragging about having thick skin, when it comes down to it, they typically don’t.

At some point, you almost want to lean in uncomfortably close to the game’s face and tell it “Go on. Say what you really mean.” And it never does. Making it satire with no teeth, which isn’t actually satire, but parody. It’s a flag-waving, gun-toting parody of American culture. It’s an American beer commercial meets Saint’s Row. It’s a romanticized outdoorsy rural locale with tacky looking guns and gruesome murder set to made-up gospel and old rock hits.

Which doesn’t feel that far off from a Saint’s Row game, but it wildly conflicts with the tone Far Cry 5 very quickly establishes for itself. And it’s such a waste, because to use an on-theme colloquialism, “bless its little heart.”

It’s trying so hard, and there are some things I can’t help but enjoy about it.

There was a moment early on, when I was creeping through the bushes of a small neighborhood as slowly and quietly as I could. I had not but a bow and a pistol to my name. Cultists were stacking dead bodies while their speaker-mounted truck played their very own choir, singing about water washing away sin. As they were finishing up, they began to sing along.

It was as First Blood meets Jim Jones as the entire game felt, and it all just clicked. The gameplay and tone all lined up so perfectly and felt so right. Where did that go?

Luckily, the game is also pretty charming in various other inadvertent or otherwise unintentional ways.

Obviously it’s cute and wholesome that you can pet all the non-hostile animals. But it’s completely adorable how Peaches growls at you when you go where she can’t follow.

There’s also random npc’s you can recruit for the game’s buddy system, aside from the nine named specialty partners. At first, I seriously wondered how any of them could compare to Peaches, the oversized mewling kitten, or Grace, the cool as a cucumber sniper lady.

But then I found some lady named Evie, who looked like somebody’s mom, and I honestly found it hard to part with her. There was something so ernest and amusing about the idea of somebody’s mom who used to embarrass them at every PTA meeting or bake sale, now in an awkwardly-fitting militia vest yelling “Get some!” to every other cultist who dared cross our path.

The gameplay is also varied enough with timed races, and puzzling treasure hunting segments. The latter in particular, I really enjoyed. They had me doing everything navigating mazes of fire to hopping and swinging along successive grapple lines under a bridge, skirting river water along the way. It’s good, varied fun.

I also really appreciate the organic way in which story beats are unlocked, which is really saying something for a sandbox. Normally, there are specific missions that unlock the next cutscene that actually matters, and everything else feels like so much filler and padding.

Far Cry 5 had the genius idea that everything should contribute to an overall progress bar. This makes it that nothing feels like padding, as you’ll always be working toward the next story beat, even if you’re doing what feel like side quests.

But it’s one step forth and one step back with you, isn’t it Far Cry 5?

Once you’ve unlocked the next story beat, you’ll be whisked away to the next cutscene to have one of the villains get in your face for the next five minutes, whether you were ready for that or not. It gets annoying after the second time, and downright numb the fifth or sixth.

It’s also where the writing starts to fall apart some more.

You know that old James Bond trope where the bad guy has him right where they want him? But then because the villain is so contrived in how they want to handle him, he ends up getting away? Well that happens almost every time. It’s cheesy.

Also where some of the worst writing in the game comes into play.

Jacob Seed has a neat gimmick, I’ll admit. He’s all about classic conditioning, A Clockwork Orange style. Alright, interesting enough. And instead of escaping, you wake up, presumably days later, having finally escaped his mind control. It was a neat twist at first.

What’s incredibly stupid though is everyone points it out. Dutch, Eli, all characters who know about Jacob’s MO, and none of them think anything suspicious about it. Nope, just “Hey, now that I can finally get in contact with you after an entire week of you not responding, come back and get uncomfortably close to me and people I care about.”

Nobody thinks anything’s up with that? Even after it happens three or four times?? And not even my own character thinks to warn them that I’m being psychologically manipulated to kill them???

Oh. Look at that. The game made me kill Eli. How very unsurprising. What is that, something like four hours of build up to a twist anyone could see coming if they’ve ever seen a story?

“Who cares, it’s fun, isn’t it?”

I mean, yes, sure. It’s very fun, in fact. Fewer things have been more satisfying than timing it just right to take down three baddies at once, with a sniper shot from Grace, a mauling from Peaches, and a throwing knife from myself.

And like I said before, the gameplay is just varied enough to not grow dull. But what should be a good game is held back by mediocre writing and a lack of commitment.

Weirder than any of it though is the troves of people lining up to say it doesn’t matter, because the game is fun. Listen, I can enjoy the gameplay for hours of mind-numbing fun, but still be able to pick apart everything wrong with the overall experience. There’s nothing really wrong with that. It doesn’t completely impede what enjoyment I, or anybody else, was able to get out of it.

I really don’t get this, though. This is no critique of the game itself, mind you, but it is at fault for bringing it up again, even if by accident. So it bears discussion.

Clean Prince was right when he said that Far Cry 5 brought up a lot of what’s wrong with modern gaming culture. Yet I can’t help but disagree with his reasoning behind this statement. Because he, like many, asked why any of it matters, so long as the game is fun.

Look.

Gamers clamored for years, demanding our hobby be taken seriously. Entire groups and brands like Extra Credits formed, to try and gain for games the same respect film and literature already had.

Nowadays, we have critics aplenty, like Super Bunny Hop, and the above-mentioned Errant Signal, who regularly dissect games with the same attention to detail movies, shows, and novels receive.

We did it. We’re here. We made it, right?

No.

People tear down bad writing in games, and suddenly it doesn’t matter. The game being fun is the only feature that matters, now that it’s convenient to dismiss anything that seemingly gets in the way of your enjoyment.

Even though it doesn’t.

If Far Cry 5 were a film, people would be trampling over each other to repeat the critics’ disregard of its milquetoast shotgun approach to writing, and lack of commitment to an actual point, despite advertising itself as any kind of satire.

It’s not like having an actual statement is foreign to Far Cry either. Far Cry 2 had a well implemented theme of deterioration in every aspect; your character’s health thanks to the malaria, the guns falling apart from being old, fire spreading wildly out of control.

It’s not even necessarily a Ubisoft problem either.

Far Cry 3 was all about the lengths you’d go to for the people you care about, and how growing and changing as a person ends up alienating you from them anyway. There was also an underlying theme about there being no real winners in a setting so deeply seeded with violence.

Ending sucks too. That’s not a good transition, but it’s as good of one as it deserves, to be frank.

It’s awful, but not because it’s unsatisfying and you don’t get to technically win. Not every game needs to end on a positive note, just because you work for it. Spec Ops: The Line had some of my favorite gut-punch endings in a game.

But the takeaway is just bad, for either ending.

Either you walk away from Joseph at the end, and Jacob’s conditioning kicks in again, and you kill everyone you just saved, or randomly and completely out of bumbling nowhere, several nuclear warheads go off around the tristate area. And everyone you just saved dies in irradiated fire anyway.

What’s the takeaway here? That we should just let dangerous people get away with violent uprisings, because hey, who knows, they may actually have been right all along?

The nuclear ending especially is just bad writing. It’s a twist out of left field meant to shock, and take you by surprise, but only because there’s nothing to indicate it’s going to happen. It’s trying, and failing, to ape the nuke scene from the first Modern Warfare game. But that scene was the dramatic release after an entire level’s worth of building tension regarding the bomb which was mentioned earlier. Of which said established tension, there’s simply none here.

Each region even caps off with you burning out the cult’s various bomb shelters. Only to find out, what? That you should’ve given up and let them kill and maim and steal all they like, so you could huddle down next to them in their bunkers? All because some uninformed zealot who doesn’t even sound like he’s actually looked at a bible lately made a lucky guess?

No thanks.

Instead of inspiring shock and awe, the ending feels random and nonsensical. Once again destroying any coherency the overall tone the game could’ve had. Is this supposed to be a fun, silly game to be enjoyed with a beer or a friend? 

Or a serious and somber game where you face the deepest human fear of all: how people manage to justify overt acts of pure evil as “the right thing?”

All in all, Far Cry 5 is like a cheap burger from a fast-food joint. The taste is fine and it’ll tide you over, but it’s probably not very good for you. And you can’t help but think about how much better it looks in the pictures on the menu.