#but engage nostalgia baited me hard

[larachelledrawsfe]

A very, very late FE anniversary scribble.

[vivien-ien-ien-ien-ien-ien-ien]

|Slight Rant about Destiny, My favourite game ever. Just a genuine rant, with things coming straight out of my mind.|

|a few no no words :3|

I know absolutely nobody gives a shit about what I as a player thinks,because no one knows of my existance on this wonderful app. But holy shit does State of the Game make me go crazy. I went into it not expecting anything much, but even this dogshit 6000 word essay about how hard it is for them to manage their own game instead of making microtransactions and 20 euro armor sets that fill up their mobile game store pissed me a lot more than it should've.

Bungie said "uhmmmm making the game is hard :p, we wont support gamemodes we added :3 pay us more money for final shape :))), also we are killing off gambit!! And not making any new armor sets, because YOU THE COMMUNITY are never using them!!! IT'S NOT LIKE WE MAKE THE ARMOR PIECES LOOK LIKE SHIT!!!".

First they butcher lightfall with terrible writing and design, practically ruin any potential characters like Calus have, and charge over a 100 euro for the expansion that has less content than base Taken King, or Rise of Iron or Forsaken. "We have devs that want to make great things, butttt we tell them to stop trying, because we will set ourselves up for disaster!!!" The fact that they even blame the community on some aspects is like bro...

Like, about the armor sets for ritual activities. They say they have no desire to make new sets, because players don't engage with them. WHEN BUNGIE makes them purposely uninteresting and uninspired, so that the sets in the eververse store looked much more appealing.

Yes, guys! Underdeliver more! Make your players pay over a 100 digits of their currency to get less content than before! Not only is half of it Nostalgia bait and recycled garbage! But it's completely awful and most likely not play tested!

Kill off pvp, kill off gambit. Kill off your game, just to fuel Marathon, yippers!! Whatever makes the corporate wheel spinning.

I don't regret my 4000 hours in Destiny 2. Met a lot of great people and made friends, enjoyed content. But I'm upset that they are managing their game like this, holding The Final Shape to us like it's some sacred Carrot on a Stick. Let's watch them go into panic mode, fix the game, then start doing the same thing all over again.

I'm tilted...

[trlvsn]

Hello! This is the og #putedgeworthinacoma anon :)

When I said that Phoenix should be avticely present in the first case only, I meant that he should spend the rest of the game trying to solve the Edgeworth coma case! (I guess I forgot to mention that TT)

Also this isn't what I want aa7 to be, it's me trying to put together a best case scenario. Cuz they won't let those old men be happy in the background (we can only dream) Capcom would totally nostalgia bait us with them AGAIN

Proposal: The last case should be the Edgeworth coma case, Phoenix should be revealed to be the one 'pulling the strings' again BUT they should also make the game theme something like 'stepping aside for the new generation' and make Athena take the final step

Some part of me doesn't even want aa7 to happen (aai3 please) but at the same time, Ace Attorney deserves atleast some kind of proper conclusion... I've always thought of it as a sorta 'final game'...ofcourse this is all inside my head

Forever rotating this hypothetical game in my head :)

honestly, anon. and i say this with extreme positivity in my voice. you and many other people who talk about their ideas and character interpretations in my ask box should make their own posts about it too!! like. i do love hearing this stuff and engaging in conversation this way, as well as giving my own two cents on the matter, but!! this will get like two notes! this could be a fic! this could be a comic! this could be a fangame! i'm too small of a blog to contain this properly shdksksj

that being said, yeah... capcom would nostalgia bait us so hard.

[harusha]

Finished Engage. The story is still awful but it had its good moments (Ex. Zephia and Griss’s final scene). However, the other problem is that they crammed everything interesting into the last 5-6 chapters, so it was a ton of character exposition and “I told you my sad backstory, so I am now off to die immediately” flags. There are 26 chapters, excluding DLC and Paralogues.

Honestly, outside of gameplay maps, Three Houses feels like the better game for me. The Engage maps are fun and there are some good mechanics. I don’t think they’re Conquest level maps but they’re still solid. Really enjoyed Griss’s teleporting map and the final battle thematically (even if I think gameplay wise, it’s bland).

However, the Paralogues are an absolute pain because they’re mostly faithful recreations of the originals, and I do enjoy the nostalgia since I’ve played them all, but if it wasn’t fun in the original, it’s not fun here. Horses and Fliers still dominate even if Backup Infantry is very good. It just becomes painful to travel like say, Camilla’s DLC map or Lyn’s Paralogue unless you have high Movement (which is, again, a problem of faithfully recreating maps) and others like Corrin’s are boring even if there’s a gimmick.

Like thematically it makes sense but gameplay? Eh…

And the skill system itself being locked behind Tempest Trials, SP, and post-game is awful. Unless you are on Normal/Hard for Skirmishes to grind/cheesing SP with Great Sacrifice, you’re getting one really good skill or two okay ones at best. They made Tempest Trials worse than FEH’s too because the maps are tedious and you can’t auto easily

Emblems are broken of course, and you can clear Maddening without inheriting skills, but it just feels horrid that key mechanics are locked behind a grindy mode (Crystals) or to post-game (SP books). Not to mention the problem of Emblems being busted.

Like do not use the DLC Emblems or weapons if you want a decently hard game. Camilla breaks the game and I made Dimitri 2 on a flying horse with Alfred (70-105 dmg per round with Pair Up and Canter + forged Spear and forged Fensalir). And Soren is basically broken because he allows for baiting bosses like Lyn does.

Even the base game Emblems are gamebreaking (Ex. Lyn!Kagetsu who can use clones to chokepoint entire areas with dodgetanking).

They give you a lot of tools, but the most fun is early to mid game imo. And Paralogues themselves are way too backloaded. It was a pain to play them.

And the story itself has a lot of cute callbacks but it’s like…the pacing is bad. Really bad. I enjoyed the cast and my favorites were Zephia and Alfred, but this is worse than Three Houses by a large bit (and you generally don’t expect games to backslide on new installments).

And this is very much personal preference but I prefer Three Houses Skill System because it feels like you can actually build units and not just slap Emblems onto them + you’re forced to use new units each route if you don’t recruit. It just feels more thoughtful at times even with Three Houses’s weaknesses.

While Engage returns to the normal formula of chapter recruits, the problem comes in of “why would I use this character if Emblems can patch up earlier ones that are weaker?” It’s a conundrum that makes it not worthwhile to use new ones unless they’re busted (Ex. Soren!Ivy or Micaiah!Hortensia) or you really like them. It’s not the same as with Nino or the other Ests of the series.

And the Somniel mechanics itself…they made the monastery but somehow worse, and I’m someone who liked the monastery. You get 10-20 glowing spots per visit, Arena is 3 sessions that you have to manually choose + can’t skip intro quotes, Sommie Pet and Feed are unskippable scenes (and I love Sommie), mini games will break your thumb even on Normal for the button mashing one, and so forth. Horrid after the novelty wears off.

Really feels like they saw that people liked certain mechanics and ideas from Three Houses and went “yeah let’s shove it in but make it worse.” Lumera just felt like a worse written and less complex Rhea too…

However, you can really feel the love in the game, and it’s a delight for series veterans like me for callbacks even if the gameplay suffers from bizarre decision making and poor story pacing. And some supports like Alfred/Céline are genuinely good imo.

Game is heavily censored though to the point of contrivance as a note. It’s to the point where they censored all of Alear’s age appropriate relationships with other 17-year-olds and left in the adults only as explicit romance. Or how Veyle’s S Support now makes 75% or so of the game’s story and motivations bizarre and even incoherent/weaker.

NOTE: I don’t care about fictional characters’ rights, but it’s funny because you know they were trying to sanitize the game but somehow made it “worse.”

I think Engage is a solid 6.5/10 or 7/10 for me which is not a bad score.

Ultimately, if you want a good story, pick up Three Houses, Tellius duology, or Genealogy. Awakening for a solid, if vanilla, story.

If you want Gameplay, pick up Engage or like Conquest. Three Houses isn’t bad map-wise, it’s just weaker and the fact you have to play the maps at least 4 times to get the full story.

[lesbiansforboromir]

Seeing these promo images for the Rohirrim anime makes me worry yet more that this and RoP will just be Pete Jackson film nostalgia bait that will not be willing to stray too far from his version of the setting. I just really want to see a middle earth on screen that isn’t just his.

Right I'm gonna use this to talk about the War of the Rohirrim since people seemed confused.

So this is an anime film that was announced quite a few months ago now. All we got was the title screen back then and a general synopsis; the film would be centering Helm Hammerhand, the ninth king of Rohan, and his war with the Dunlendings during the fell winter. We also already had confirmation that it was going to be basically a part of the Warner Bros cinematic universe, Phillipa Boyens is writing it in part and visually year it's gonna be the films, which I agree is depressing.

A quick recap for you all is that the Dunlendings had held Isengard for a long while by the time he became king, (Saruman not yet set up there) and there had been a lot of warring between them. Gram, Helm's father, had been killed in battle. Freca was the leader of these Dunlendings at the time, but he also claimed royal rohirric ancestry and made a bid to marry his son, Wulf, to Helm's daughter.

Negotiations started off very badly and ended with Helm punching Freca SO HARD he just DIED so. More war after that. Though it was four years before Wulf began his assault upon Rohan. Now! Admittedly I had forgotten they had in fact gained the direct support of the Corsairs AND the Easterlings whilst ALSO engaging the Haradrim to attack Gondor. So Rohan and Gondor were both doubly beleaguered at the same time as the Long Winter came down upon them (probably orchestrated by Sauron). Hence, Gondor could not immediately come to Rohan's aid. Haleth, (helms son) was killed defending Edoras and Helm's army was defeated at the crossings of the isen river, forcing him to retreat into Helms Deep (originally called Suthburg, renamed after Helm in honour of this whole debacle). He held out there under siege for? Many months, can't remember how many. Essentially just... blowing his horn, wandering into the enemy camp, killing a bunch of them and then leaving again. He became a kind of horror story to the dunlendings. His other son Hama was also killed, leaving only his nephew, Frealaf, son of his sister Hild.

Essentially, as soon as the snows died down, Beregond (son of Steward Beren) came to Frealaf's aid and drove out the last of the Dunlendings after winning his own war against the corsairs and haradrim. But Helm died before that, literally just freezing stiff in the middle of battle, left standing like a terrifying corpse warrior. LIKE... The story is depressing as all hell. But like... honestly I'm more interested in this period of history than I am in the second age, especially because Beregond's one of my favourite Stewards, I love this guy.

But so getting back to the point, recently we got some concept art for the film.

So these are both obviously here to portray the attack at Edoras, where Haleth dies. Originally I was very confused by the lack of snow and abundance of Mumakil. I'm still thoroughly confused by the Mumakil, the only reason the Corsairs got up there was because they sailed over and marched up the the isen fords. Can you bring Oliphants on ships?? Idk! I GUESS.meme!! But I dont think the long winter set in until later on in their... siege... or did it? My refusal to look this up is just because I am sleepy uwu ANYWAY! Yes you can easily see it's just PJ's lotr edoras with brown lands and rustic utterly unadorned base architecture. And the dunlendings all look miserably 'uncivilised' and 'barbaric' which is even more depressing. But it's a good expectation setter and I just... hope that perhaps... when/if I see Beregond I will not be made too sad. ;v;

[cosmicfurby]

--AA5 SPOILERS AHEAD--

okay so that's it for dual destinies! let me tell you, this one was a BLAST. my favorite in the series this far

first off, i want to say i understand why many people hate on everything that's not the trilogy. aa4 and aa5 feel very disconnected with each other style and gameplay-wise, whilst the trilogy was very consistent and homogeneous. i can understand that, however, once you start thinking of the rest of the games as standalones rather than part of another trilogy, it's easier to get through

this one... this one was emotionally harsher than any other games, except perhaps that final case in trials and tribulations. maybe it was the fact you already know and love the characters, maybe the nostalgia, but those last two cases were... omg. i cried a lot, they are full with raw emotion and tragedy and angst. they're incredible, there's not much I can say about them.

i was a little skeptical of the 3d models at first, however, i got used pretty quickly to the change. (not to what they did to klavier gavin, that is a hate crime your honor). the voices changing are also something you eventually forget and they didn't break my immersion.

as for the new game mechanic –mood matrix–, i am literally obsessed with it. it feels like by this point in the series they already knew what they were up to when introducing the lawyers' special abilities, and knew what they were doing. the mood matrix is engaging, it's fun and challenging without becoming impossible. i absolutely loved the matrix and was looking forward to in in every trial.

the characters, I'm not going to lie, got to me, and they got to me hard. phoenix working again, with his lawyer's badge on, was particularly emotional, given all he's been through. apollo does not have a particular good time in this game because of his circumstances, however, once he manages to work through that trauma and finally lets go of clay's coat... cathartic, really. good to see him get some fleshed out backstory that doesn't feel that it comes out of nowhere. and athena, oh, athena. my love for athena knows no limits. that poor girl has gone through so. much. shit! and she's still the most adorable, energetic person. her story broke my heart then pulled it back together. and what can I say about simon blackquill? i am obsessed with his character, his story, what he did. thoroughly obsessed. at first i thought what anyone else would've: that he was a jackass who shouldn't be allowed to prosecute. but then, once they delve in all that happened... he spent seven years in prison as an innocent man because he wanted to protect a little girl. that is devastating. seeing him smile in the last case was the most heartwarming thing. I'm so glad he got the justice he was denied for so long. trigger warning, though: very little trucy on this... shameful. just kidding, she does show up time to time and you can tell this was the developers baiting all them trucy fans such as myself. her presence being limited makes the few times she appears ever more important

as for the actual cases and story... wow. just wow. seems to me like they learned from the mistakes made in aa4. backstories and events are foreshadowed in a way i did not expect from Anime Lawyers' Plot Twists: The Game, however the team excelled at this. athena's backstory was handled well so we'd suspect what was going on from the beginning without actually spoiling everything, as well as blackquill's. the final reveal, though it was shocking as any reveal of that nature should be, didn't feel pulled out of their asses: we knew fulbright, or rather whoever was posing as him, was the one to evacuate the space center. it was a matter of connecting the dots, and not just "oh haven't you heard? surprise!!!" as the apollo reveal was. tip of the hat to capcom. this was very well done.

another very important thing to note in this game that sets it apart from the others is that, for the first time ever in the series, trauma is addressed. people show emotional reactions to powerful events in their lives, who would've thought! no more phoenix just going on about his life after his mentor's death, no more apollo just getting over a betrayal like kristoph's. no: apollo gets emotionally scarred after clay's death. so does athena with what happened to her mother and what she thought she did. trauma is there, it's worked through and mentioned, and i think that's a big step forward since the detachment that i often felt in the trilogy. i really really appreciated this aspect of the story and liked how they handled it

final thoughts... the nostalgia, man. pearls comes back! so does edgeworth! they definitely knew what they were doing when they peppered in a casual appearance from our husband <3 getting to see little pearls and edgey again feels wonderful, like a balm for your soul after how much you feel like crumbling down during that last case. they went for the feels for this game, and they did that well.

10/10 would let this game break me again, now let's go to a different land for spirit of justice, rock and roll buckaroo

[thevindicativevordan]

thoughts on the Teen Titans as a team separate from the Justice League?

Kiss of death for them was when their conceptual core shifted from being a separate team that handled it's own threats, to a "Junior Justice League".

Reason why is that once you shoved them back under the League's shadow, there's no impetus to care about them at all. Over here you have the League dealing with the "real" threats, and around the corner you have the Titans tackling the minor threats that are beneath the Justice League's notice. Now that you've completely undercut them as an independent team, what's left? Soap opera shenanigans apparently given that's what they lean on so hard. Keep giving their books another chance at winning me over, and so far they just keep letting me down.

In all fairness a lot of their problems stem from Didio using them as event fodder, constantly killing them whenever he wanted to attract attention, and displaying outright distaste for the fan favorite members such as Nightwing. Popular as they are thanks to the cartoons, the former editorial heads at DC seemed to hate the Titans as much as Marvel editorial hates the Scarlet Witch, outwardly resenting that Titans had such a strong fanbase that wanted to read those characters. Even with Didio gone they still haven't managed to improve their lot, and I think it would take a miracle at this point to pull them out of this decades long slump they're in.

Anonymous asked:

any ideas on how to fix the Teen Titans?

Beg Hickman to do it, he's said he would love to write a Titans book. Good Lord do they need someone with ambition and talent for big epic storytelling given how long they've been garbage, DC has tried nostalgia, edge, a mix of old and new, flat out copying the X-Men with Titans Academy, and none of it has succeeded. Seriously, when was the last "must-read" Titans run? Johns maybe? Franchise needs someone to come in and blow it up HoX/PoX style because comics-wise this team is dead in the water.

Might seem counterproductive to their overall health given how they've been treated in the past, but I think the Titans need an event. A big story with them at the center that also involves the wider DCU in supporting roles as a way of letting you know, hey the Titans matter. Stories going on in their book aren't just nostalgia bait or spinning the wheels, if you want to keep up with the latest developments of the DCU you need to check their book out.

Alternatively you'd be better off cancelling their mainline book and putting that money towards a Webtoon like the Batfamily one, I'm not sure people actually care about the Titans engaging in superheroics as much as they care about who is dating who. Webtoon would be a much better format for that.

[doorbloggr]

Thursday 6/5/21: Masters of Musical Mashups

I do not consider myself a musically minded person, but I feel I enjoy music as a past time more than the average joe. When I engage with audio entertainment, I do so with my soul, to the point where songs I have nostalgia for can move me to tears.

Sorry for using K-On for mood-setting imagery again, but its a cute and fun aesthetic.

But before I meander too much off-topic, today's on-topic is specifically about music derived from existing media. Parody is the immediate word that comes to mind, but the type of derivative musical masterpieces I wanna highlight in this blog post goes a bit deeper than that.

The internet is an amazing place (maybe I should retitle this blog series to that string of words), and I've been exposed to many smaller or otherwise hidden musical talents that I would not have encountered in everyday life. Today let's discuss two musical talents from YouTube who have made it their mission to incinerate existing music in a grand inferno, and rebirth a new sound, like a radiant phoenix. The masters of mashups.

High Quality Videogame Rips: SiIvaGunner

SiIvaGunner (spelt s-i-i-v-a-g-u-n-n-e-r) is a videogame OST ripping channel. It owes it name to fellow videogame rip channel GilvaSunner, (g-i-l-v-a-s-u-n-n-e-r), who in turn pays homage to original videogame ripping channel Silvagunner (s-i-l-v-a-g-u-n-n-e-r).

Confusing names aside, the purpose of a videogame rip channel is to provide audio acquired directly from a videogame's files in order to fully enjoy the original soundtrack (OST) in its purest form. There are hundreds of such channels on YouTube, but SiIvaGunner has been set apart from the rest by the specific ripping skillset of its community. Take a listen to this:

SiIvaGunner songs are a fun bait-and-switch type entertainment, where the bit usually involves using the thumbnail and title of a video game song, but the artist has used the sound font of that game to construct a completely different tune.

A lot of the time, this is as simple as using a Mario soundfont to play notes of a TV show theme (as above), but sometimes, it can go further. Many of SiIvaGunner's most popular hits involve just straight remixes of mainstream music mashed up with videogame tunes.

And sometimes, the musician will go one more step, and sentence mix lyrics from the videogame song or mainstream song to make a song of entirely new meaning.

SiIvaGunner is not one artist, there is an entire community of musical artists who contribute their pieces to this channel. The channel uploads often double digits of videos daily, so if I've intrigued you at all, please check the channel out!

A World of Mouth: Neil Cicierega

Neil Cicierega is an internet legend. He has been creating online entertainment for almost two decades. Particularly credits include his Potter Puppet Pals series, and his own original music under the name "Lemon Demon", with works such as The Ultimate Showdown and Two Trucks.

Given his aptitude in comedy and musical talent, it is not surprising that Neil jumped into the parody/remixing scene. But whereas other parody artists and remixers simply created their own altered versions of popular music, Neil Cicierega created something on entire other level.

Neil has recently released his fourth album in the Mouth series, a collection of mashup music that transforms popular mainstream music into something new and fantastic. Neil will take the vocals from one song and transplant it into the instrumentals of another song. Often this contrast is used for comedic effect, but in my opinion, many of the songs he's remixed sound catchier and more fun than the originals.

The namesake of his series, Smash Mouth, feature heavily in a number of his songs. Given the meme-able nature of Smash Mouth, thanks to Shrek, the Mouth series is known across the internet for its fun parodic nature.

Smash Mouth is far from the only source Neil Cicierega uses. Source music is taken from all genres of popular 20th and 21st century hits. Neil has a musical ear where he can perfectly match any lyrics with their instrumental soulmate. The pairing needn't be songs of the same genre however, and some of his most fun music comes from combining music from polar opposite genres.

Using the vocals from AC/DC's Back in Black with the instruments from Vanessa Carlton's A Thousand Miles sounds like a pair that shouldn't work. But Neil knows his rhythm and it goes off. And while Neil is a master of putting hard-ass lyrics to a softer song, that doesn't mean he can't go in the other direction. Below is Spongerock, a mashup of the Spongebob theme song and Queen's We Will Rock You.

Some of Neil's remixes aren't mashups at all, but rather a transformation of a song into something silly, bizarre and barely recognisable from the original. The prime example being Bustin.

Neil Cicierega posts his original music on Spotify, and his Mouth series can be found on his Soundcloud. Fans have uploaded most of the Mouth series to Youtube, and if you have a spare few hours (or want to consume it over a few days), a fan has compiled all of his albums into one long video, The Mouth Experience:

I've given my readers plenty of good music to listen to today, so if you do enjoy yourselves or have already experienced these musical geniuses before, be sure to let me know and spread the word.

[kob131]

https://twitter.com/CJ_Black0/status/1261143893166473216

You know, this shit is a picture perfect representation of why I say that these guys should just stop with the pretenses and just say ‘RWBY bad’ over and over again.

I've joked about how funny it would be if RWBY pulled the rug from underneath our feet & had bumbleby not be endgame. But all jokes aside, considering the state of #RWBY, RT & the RWBY fandom as a whole...the writers kinda HAVE to not only make it canon, but ideal. 

Yeah, I heard the same shit for years about redeeming the White fang. How did that go again?

What I mean is that RT has been on some pretty hard times lately & it's cashcow has seen far better days. Let's not kid ourselves, RWBY is sustained mostly by people who care more about the relationships & labels than the actual story & characters.

Except considering that the analysis scene is still thriving and non-relationship shit is still thriving-

That ain’t true now is it?

A majority of the fandom seems to be comprised of people who've stuck around from nearly the beginning. And sure, new faces pop up here & there, but it's not the massive surge that the Beacon arc brought in.

Really, because I heared that most of the old guard left because the writing was SO shit. Isn’t that suppose to be true?

Or are you guys both full of it, proclaiming whatever fits your narrative instead of trying to reflect reality?

And this isn't even touching on the overall quality of the writing within the show, which has honestly barely-if not outright hasn't-improved at all from its early days. 

Still gotta lug around that giant cross called ‘nostalgia’ even as the things you botch about are primarily rooted in the beginning...

To put it frank, RWBY is pretty much becoming an isolated franchise, where the only ones who really care about it are those who were already here. 

Do you actually have a THING to back that up? Any analytics? Any stats? Anything whatsoever other than your word, something rendered completely worthless by your own actions?

And nowadays the show seems to operate on 1 golden rule to keep it afloat, "shipping sells"

...

https://store.roosterteeth.com/collections/rwby#/sort:ga_unique_purchases:desc

This is a link to RT’s merch store, specifically their RWBY merch orgnazied by their best sellers. See something that doesn’t add up?

Shipping merch takes FOREVER to find on here...and it’s the Ren and Nora shirt. Not even Bumbleby, the so called ‘selling ship’. Bumbleby shit doesn’t even show up until, at best, the second page with the Yang Vs Adam shirt. And I do meant at best because Blake’s nowhere on the shirt.

This is factually untrue. Shipping is not selling. What is selling is character merch.

And it doesn't matter which side of the argument you're on or what you ship, you can't deny that the most talked about topic in RWBY is the ships.

Actually I can. Bumbleby is only talked about as much as it is because half of it is from you fuckers strawmaning it into importance. I’ve seen more people talking about Ironwood and Team RWBY than that nothing ship.

You think ships are all that there is because you don’t engage with anyone but shippers. You willfully blind yourself to anything not shipping related so you can pretend that’s the top issue.

And at the head of it all, is bumbleby. The golden child of the CRWBY & problem child of the fandom.

By ‘CRWBY’ he means TWO members. Barbara and Arryn. Nothing about the writers, the people with ACTUAL control over the story. Just two voice actors from a company with a lassiez fair approach to handling their employees. 

And by ‘problem child’ he means; ‘scapegoat.’ We’ll discuss that later.

With shipping pretty much largely holding the vessel that is RWBY afloat, & bumbleby being a large component of that pillar with an even larger following behind it, what do you think would happen if that component never came to pass? Well, RT would face the Wasps' wrath.

You mean like they were beforehand? You forget CJ, your methods and your positions were once held by those same wasps. You’re all pretty pathetic.

And frankly, I don't think RT could afford their cashcow taking a serious blow like that. I mean, they're still planning on having RTX later this September while we're still heavily dealing with the pandemic, showing that they probably can't afford to NOT do it.

That doesn’t even make sense. ‘While we’re still heavily dealing with the pandemic’ In May. Four months away. While we’ve begun reopening the economy.

And the second being the wrath of the fandom over Clover's death. Some of those who were upset weren't upset because Clover himself died, but rather the ship Lucky Charms was now dead & they felt like the writers queer baited them...even though Qrow & Clover never hinted at romantic attraction.

You mean a fraction of what they got from Pyrrha’s death? Who was not only a part of a much bigger ship but was also a woman so people generally gave more of shit.

With the company in bad conditions,

Which can’t be solved by shipping.

, RWBY itself slowly fading more & more into mediocrity and obscurity

He says as it’s held up better than numerous other shows.

nd the fandom going into a frenzy over a ship that wasn't even hinted at existing in the first place

Said ‘frenzy’ being small peas compared to the absolute shitstorm that was the hiatuses of Volumes 3 and 5.

...the writers HAVE to have Blake end up with Yang in the end.

Ah huh, sure. How many times have I heard shit like that.

None of this really holds up huh? Well, consider this.

Ignore the actual meaning of the words he’s using and instead listen to what his statements feel like. Also consider that many of things he’s said, while bullshit when compared to facts, are running narratives among his audience and his own circles.

Now compare it to something like say...CNN’s coverage of Trump. Looks eeirely similar huh?

The actual content of CJ’s words don’t matter. He could talk in vaguely negative gibberish about RWBY and it’d serve the same purpose. It’s just meant to rally his base and draw in people already thinking like him. Just like a politician uses a bunch of clichés to rally their base and draw in more radicalized people. You see it every day of your life on the TV whenever you here about Trump’s new scandal.

This is why I say people like CJ can just replace whatever they are saying with ‘RWBY bad’.  Much like how a politican just says what you want to hear or sell you the feeling you are feeling, they do the same just in regards to a show.

Also why this disgusts me. There’s no substance to what is being said: it’s just people being whipped into a frenzy and cults being built.

[kuroopaisen]

heyyy congrats on the 500!!! can I request flower, galaxy and effervescence for the pretty asks? :))

flower - what’s your favourite thing about yourself?

rowan: this was really hard ajdkfk,,, appearance-wise, i guess i kinda like my nose?? as for my personality,,, i like that i do my best to be open-minded and accepting (even tho i’m still a bit too opinionated at times)?? and that i’m learning to accept being wrong sjfkfk

v: uhhh physically its probably my eyes? i like their colour! personality-wise… probably that i try to be as reliable as possible? probably sounds weird but like. my brain is so #wack that im proud of myself that im still trying regardless (its not without reason that i sometimes joke about my love language being “consistency” lol)

galaxy - your favourite and least favourite films? 

rowan: this might be because i watched it last night, but i adore into the spiderverse!! if you haven’t watched it yet you should because it’s a delightful experience!! i really miss animated films, and it made me Feel Things,,, it’s hard for me to choose a least favourite (bc i usually block bad films out of my mind), but for now i’m going to go with jurassic world: fallen kingdom?? i was a big dinosaur kid growing up and i loved the first jurassic park, so seeing that they made such a dumb travesty of the film (while still trying to include nostalgia-bait imagery) made me upset. 

v: my fav is def school of rock!! its pretty much the only film thats ever stuck with me for years after watching it lol. it just has this rly fun and positive vibe that i adore! for least favs… im admittedly not a film person so im not sure? i just forget p much all of them more or less ahah,,, but from those ive watched somewhat recently (read: not longer than a year ago) it might be jumanji 2, not bc its outright terrible or anything, but it just felt like. a massive waste of potential? like it couldve been rly fun but instead i found myself all :/ for the majority of it. the incorrect use of inhaler pissed me off MASSIVELY-

effervescence - do you have a favourite poem/poet?

rowan: ooo i’m so glad you asked this!! i’m absolutely in love with khalil gibran’s the prophet?? if you’ve never heard of it, it’s a long-form poem & it delves into his personal philosophies on life. i find it very beautiful & calming, and i tend to read it whenever i’m feeling stressed or upset. i have a particular fondness for the sections on friendship, love & self-knowledge,,, 

v: this is like. a rly hard question for me to answer bc while theres a lot of stuff i absolutely adore, my memory may as well be non-existent,, i havent really engaged with poetry much since graduating our high school equivalent and pretty much all of my stuff is still with my parents so i cant really check either. there was a poem about current events that really Hit Me but ofc i cant find it anymore :^) so ill just cheat and say the poems written in the dialect of my hometown-

[starswornoaths]

Ever a Seneschal, Ne’er a Princess (4/4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Serella volunteers at this year’s Little Ladies’ Day event, same as all the years preceding it. Being urgently called by the sultana, however, is a first:

Or:

These two are dummies, diabetes inducing sap ensues, and finally, everything comes together and I bait a follow up *cough* 

Word count: 7,427 (I’m so sorry I clearly can’t just get to the point with these two ;-; )

Another spring brought with it another Little Ladies’ Day celebration— and with that celebration came volunteer work. Unlike much of the go-here-do-this busywork she had been given in the years since she took up adventuring, however, Serella volunteered willingly for such work.

There was enjoyment to be had in the simplicity of helping set up decorations for the festivities— and a strangely domestic type of cameraderie between everyone who participated because of it that she genuinely enjoyed; it helped remind her of why she fought as hard as she did for the realm in gentler, warmer ways. By the time preparations had been complete and they were all changing into their suits, the seneschals were all laughing and bantering, and the mood was already jovial. The suits were more or less the same as they had always been, which was fine; it meant she could simply slip into the same one from last year that way. When the Chief Seneschal began to pass out baskets of the favors meant to be handed out, Serella couldn’t help but be curious as to what they might be as she waited for hers. 

This year’s favor that was to be handed out was quite different from offerings other years: braided flower crowns. When she was handed a cloth lined wicker basket laden with the hand made crowns, she found herself a bit taken aback; previous years had seen simple things with flowers; a corsage, a hairpin, a bracelet, always something that was quick to make and easy to stick on someone. This was more elaborate. More...personal.

She hated that a part of her wanted one.

It was silly— and a waste on her besides, seneschal that she was. She hadn’t been a princess in decades, what good would it do for her to have one? As quickly as her heart melted at the thought of being presented with one she forced it to harden again: if she was so smitten with a flower crown, she could go braid herself one. She knew how; she’d braided flowers with Ysale, once, even. 

Ah, Serella realized the source of the blooming, bittersweet warmth in her chest; she had not thought of flower crowns since she had found wild stems of Lily of the Valley and vines of Forget-Me-Nots in the Forelands and placed a braided crown of them on Ysale’s head. Before that, she had not thought of it since childhood, but seeing Lady Iceheart so despondent at the revelation that she was not, in fact, Shiva reborn but some dark shadow of her own want to be, Serella had felt moved to at least try to comfort her. 

Better she leave such niceties in the past where they belonged, she decided as she spied Uthengentle taking up his own basket of crowns and grinning smugly at her from over his shoulder. In response, she tapped two fingers below her eyes and scrunched her face as she pointed them towards him. Victory would not be obtained while she ruminated on melancholic nostalgia, after all. 

As the morning wore on and princess came and went, however, Serella’s first inclination that something was afoot was, incidentally, when Uthengentle began to lose their annual friendly competition to see which of the two of them were the better seneschal.

He had never lost to her! In all the years they had done this together, he’d been the one to thoroughly and decisively out-perform her as a seneschal! Oh there had been times where she had pulled ahead momentarily, but he often rallied himself to outmatch her in all manners gentlemanly and chivalrous the moment he realized he had fallen behind. Hildibrand himself would be proud, if he saw how gallant and graceful her brother was in his duties.

But when she began to attract a larger crowd than he, with little ladies actively passing him by for her, her suspicions were instantly raised.

Still, there were princess to escort and assist, and she would rise to the occasion with or without her brother’s fierce competition; as much fun as it was to keep score, she did it for them, not her ingrained sibling rivalry. Though she wondered—and vaguely worried about—what had caused him to fizzle out even before noon, she lost track of him for how many different princesses needed assistance with dances or flower crowns or anything else that might make their day at least a little better.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when she moved to grab another flower crown for what felt like the hundredth princess in only a few short hours, she was shocked to find that the freshly refilled basket she had just gotten from one of the seneschals managing the event had simply vanished.

Had someone run off with it? Did another seneschal mistakenly take her basket? She froze for a moment, unsure of whether looking for the basket or just getting another one would be the more expedient course of action.

When she spied Uthengentle walking back to his post she was at first relieved to find someone she could ask, but when she spied a familiar basket—complete with her own green ribbon, no less!—cradled in his arms as he moved, her hackles were instantly raised. They’d never resorted to cheating before!

“Uthen!” She said in exasperation, barely refraining from stomping her feet as she drew near. “What are you doing? Those are—“

“For the little ladies, I know, I know,” Uthengentle yessed her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you get your own basket?”

“Usually, yeah,” Uthengentle agreed as he set the basket on his hip, “but you’re about to be relieved from your shift.”

She balked for a moment—when had she had a shift? And who was meant to relieve her from it?

“Wh—“

“By me.” Uthengentle said flatly. “I’m your relief shift.” He patted the linen lined side of the basket. “This is mine now.”

“Wha—“ She tried again. 

"Ah, there you are, Serella!" She heard a voice she recognized as Papashan’s call out.

When she turned to greet the retired Sultansworn, still waist deep in her own confusion, she found him holding out a letter with a familiar wax seal for her to take.

"Master Papashan—"

"Your presence has been requested by Her Grace in the fragrant chambers." He handed her the letter. "Urgently, I am told."

“Well, well,” Uthengentle spoke up from behind her. “Looks like you’re needed elsewhere anyroad. I’ll take it from here, you see what the Sultana needs.”

His tone indicated that he was, somehow, a part of this whole...she didn’t even know what to call it. The Sultana needed her, “urgently,” evidently, but one look at Master Papashan told her that, “urgent,” was a relative term; she’d seen the man near panic when it was well and truly urgent, so for him to be so cavalier was...suspect.

“I don’t know what you lot are planning,” Serella groused, even as she pocketed the letter, “but I don’t trust a one of you.”

“Skepticism is a healthy thing in Ul’Dah,” Papashan mused sagely, already making his own way back to the palace.

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Uthengentle conceded, though he was already nudging her by the shoulders toward the Chamber of Rule. “Now shoo, I have ladies to charm.”

“Sure thing, Thancred, I’ll just get right on that.” Serella muttered as she tried not to trudge to the nearest aetheryte shard.

Trotting her way up the steps to the Chamber of Rule she had an errant thought that perhaps she should change— she was getting odd looks as it was, a seneschal so far from the festivities, but there was naught to be done for it, she decided: if it was truly as urgent as the missive claimed, then it should be of no consequence what she wore. All she had brought with her was her armor besides.

Presenting the letter with Nanamo’s seal on it was sufficient enough to grant her entry, though she did as instructed and waited outside the fragrant chambers and waited for one of the staff to see her in. Ere long, a lady in waiting ushered her through the doors, and with a word of thanks, she stepped inside to see what was so urgent that it demanded her attention and hers alone.

“Forgive me my tardiness, Your Grace,” Serella said before she had even fully entered the fragrant chambers. “When Master Papashan approached me, I was otherwise engaged with—” she cut herself off in words and step when she realized that Nanamo was not alone at the table. “Ser Aymeric?” She blurted dumbly when her mind registered that her lover was seated beside the Sultana.

With a smile he set his dessert spoon down and stood in greeting— the perfect picture of a lord in his crisp dark suit, all clean lines and blue and gold trim and unfairly handsome, how dare he—

“‘Tis a pleasure to see you again, Warrior of Light.” He said smoothly, and not at all as though he were the very same man that she’d practically forced out the door because he was not satisfied with the amount of goodbye kisses he had given her as they parted for the day.

“Mistress Serella, how glad I am that you answered my summons,” Nanamo replied without looking up from her tart. “You have come in the middle of negotiations between myself and— Serella!” The Sultana gasped as she looked up and leapt from her chair. “I thank you for your alacrity, but what are you wearing?!”

“Err...my Seneschal attire…?” She answered hesitantly, still frozen mid-step. With a self-conscious glance down at herself, she could admit that in her hurry she had managed to make her suit more frumpled and wrinkled than it had before she’d left the event. “I thought this was urge—”

“It would not do to have a guest of the Sultanate in such a disheveled state!” Nanamo said, her aghast expression clearly theater for something else beyond Serella’s scope; the Paladin had presented before her still covered in soot from battle, and never had the Sultana so much as batted an eye before. “Oh, but I fear we might lack clothing appropriately sized for an Elezen guest…” she tapped at her chin to feign deep thought. “This will not do, not do at all…”

“I didn’t think it looked that bad…” She muttered, though sparing another glance at Aymeric’s cleanly pressed Lord Speaker attire she had certainly conceded that she looked more than a mite haggard by comparison. She thought of her chivalric coat and offered, “I...could change into my armor…?”

“In such sweltering heat?” Aymeric spoke up, a hand over his heart— and now he was sticking his toe into the theatrics, and Serella’s bafflement reached new limits. “As a gentleman, I could not abide by having one succumb to vapors for propriety’s sake— and it must be fate itself that brought us both here today—” He bent to reach behind the seat he had only just vacated to produce a box— and she knew that yellow fabric ribbon holding it as Dottie’s signature box ribbon. “—I had a delivery meant for you, but had resigned myself to not seeing you for some time.”

Hadn’t thought he’d see her, but brought the box with him to Ul’Dah, of all places? She really hoped he thought more highly of her than that. Fate indeed— or my brother, more like, she thought wryly.

“Must have been serendipity itself.” Serella blanched, even as she accepted the box with a bow of her head. “I thank you, my lord.”

“Pray think naught of it,” Aymeric replied, his smile remaining even as he returned to his seat.

“Ahh, what a splendid coincidence!” Nanamo exclaimed, returning to her seat. “Pray go and change in the guest rooms and return when you are finished— and worry not for your suit, it shall be laundered for you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but wasn’t this urgent—?” Serella tried to ask but a lady in waiting was already leading her out the door as quickly as she came in, and the Paladin was half way down the hallway before she had even registered she’d been moving at all.

Hmph. Urgent, indeed! She huffed as she was unceremoniously nudged into an empty guest room.  

Once she'd crossed the room and sat the box upon the plush bed, she carefully undid the ribbon and slid the lid off— and the second she spied the ivory top and navy skirt neatly folded within the tissue paper, she realized that perhaps Aymeric had given her exactly as much credit as she deserved, not realizing this had been planned for at least a fortnight. Though to be fair...what could she have really prepared for? She had no idea or inclination that anyone had intended to participate in all of this.

With great care she removed the articles of clothing and laid them out on the bed— and when she spied black stockings at the bottom of the box, she knew damn well Dottie had included them for no other reason than because she had suggested it. There was a note scribbled on a scrap of paper beside the stockings— breezy top, light stockings, should keep you nice and cool. I look forward to hearing all about it over tea!

Serella grappled with whether she should feel flattered or foolish, but just decided she had the capacity for both as she hastily removed her suit. Folding each piece as best she could she tucked it in the box for lack of anywhere else to put it, really, and though she wobbled as she hopped into the stockings one foot at a time, she was just glad they were the right size. She half wondered if Aymeric hadn’t just grabbed a pair of her winter stockings for Dottie to reference.

The top felt cool and soft as she slipped her arms through the long sleeves and buttoned it. Thick enough to not be see through but light enough to breathe, she sighed at the temperature difference; she hadn’t realized how warm she had been under the layers of her suit. The skirt slipped over her hips and fastened just below the bust with enough room to comfortably tuck the shirt into it, as she expected. Though it fit flush against her waist, the skirt flared out at the hips and flowed rather nicely when she gave into her girlish enthusiasm and twirled on her stocking clad foot. Fits almost like it was made for me or something, she thought, though what sarcasm she might have felt was tempered greatly for how touched she was by such a gesture from so many she loved.

There was a moment where she looked into the mirror on the dresser and nearly didn’t recognize herself, and the thought was sobering. With so much of her time spent in either armor or uniform, she had almost forgotten what she looked like in clothes that, while more formal than her everyday attire, were still normal clothes. A stranger in her own skin, she scarcely knew what to feel draped in such lovely clothes— clothes commissioned for her specifically, another odd thought. How could she feign at being worthy of this, knowing how little she would be able to use it?

Because I’ll get gently berated otherwise by those who love me. Serella reminded herself, and found that reason enough. She took a moment to undo her slightly mussed hair to redo her half braid...and then a moment longer to dry her misty eyes, not wanting her kohl to smudge.

She was just glad she’d worn simple black kitten heels with her suit— they matched well enough with the rest of the ensemble, and once she’d put them back on she returned to the hallway outside the fragrant chambers to wait for permission to enter. Again.

Thankfully, she didn’t wait long this time around either, and stepped back inside a bit more hesitantly this time lest they deem something else in need of changing.

“I hope I didn’t take too long, Your Grace.” She said with a bow— half out of respect but half so she didn’t see Aymeric’s face.

His soft gasp seemed loud to her ears, and she straightened to see him watching her with wide, bright eyes. Though he did not smile his lips parted and his shoulders softened with his sigh. Despite how much cooler the top and skirt she wore now were, a peculiar heat spread across her cheeks at the near reverent way he took in the sight of her.

“Ahh, much more appropriate for an esteemed guest,” Nanamo said, and made no effort to hide the sly glee in her grin when she turned to her actual guest and asked, “would you not agree, Ser Aymeric?”

He seemed to catch himself in his reverie then, and hid his faintly flushed cheeks with a cough behind his hand. “Wholeheartedly, Your Grace,” he replied, even as his gaze never strayed from her.

“Now that I’m in attire that suits,” Serella said flatly, hoping it wasn’t obvious that her face was flushing ever darker shades of red. “I was summoned here urgently? How might I help you?”

“Urgent indeed!” Nanamo said with a decisive nod. “Ser Aymeric and myself were renegotiating trade agreements between Ishgard and Ul’Dah.” She made a grand gesture of fanning her face. “We are close to an agreement, though I fear I am beginning to wilt. I would ask that you escort the Lord Commander about the city while I rest— though I would not have him heckled and mistaken as a seneschal for the event being held.” She seemed utterly pleased with herself when she added, “Thus I did request that you change your clothes!”

Rest. Mhm. Well, call Serella convinced.

“As you will, Your Grace.” Serella said instead with another bow— for really, who was she to complain about so generous a gift as this? When she rose this time she turned to Aymeric, who had risen again from his seat. “Provided you are amenable, my lord?”

He was at her side before she had even finished asking him. With a bow and a hand over his heart he said softly, “More than, I assure you.” He offered her his arm, “shall we, Mistress?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the way those enchanting eyes of his glimmered like polished Kyanite as she threaded her arm through his. “With you, Ser Aymeric? I would go anywhere.”

***

**

*

“Alright, be honest,” Serella said once they had stepped out into the Ruby Road Exchange. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Though it doubtless beggars belief, scarcely a fortnight.” Aymeric replied easily. “Though I have your brother to thank for the idea— in fact, t’was he who approached me with the idea.”

“I suspected he was involved…” She said, and though she caught sight of the back of his head she still scowled at him. “Asshole.” She hissed at the back of his head, assured that by sibling instinct alone he would know she’d said it.

“Was this...unwelcome?” When she turned back toward her lover she found him looking worriedly at her.

“Oh— gods, no, dear one!” She leaned more into his side as they slipped through the bustling crowd. “I’m still a little dazed that it’s happening at all— and that he got so many people involved under my nose.” She pursed her lips. “While I’m certainly glad for the chance to dote on you a bit, I do wonder what his intention was behind this plot— noble as I’m sure it was.”

Though she said it teasingly, she didn’t doubt that Uthengentle had gone to such lengths for genuinely good reasons; he’d never had to resort to cheating in their past competitions, after all.

Aymeric had a peculiar look on his face then, and Serella found she couldn’t read it beyond, “debating what to divulge,” and wondered what he was thinking of this time.

“Though I might speak on his intent, I would rather he do so himself— and if the lady is not opposed, I would very much like to escort you to the festivities.”

“Escort me? Wasn’t I tasked with keeping the locals off of you, Ser Diplomatic Tourist?”

Aymeric laughed brightly, and she felt his hand move to the small of her back as they wound their way down the steps and tried to avoid the festival goers. “Be that as it may, given the holiday t’would seem meet that I be your seneschal, would it not?”

“That’s silly,” Serella dismissed. “Seneschals are for escorting—”

“Princesses, aye.” Aymeric agreed with a bow of his head. “Allow me to rephrase: might you permit me the privilege of escorting you as your seneschal for the day, then?”

“Aymeric…” She let out a huff of a laugh, already prepared to explain that she wasn’t a princess, hadn’t been since childhood, but that she greatly appreciated his company regardless. It was a well practiced bit— one she had told Uthengentle near every year for a while now— but heard the distinct sound of someone clucking their tongue in admonishment. “I haven’t been one in some time—”

“Tsk, tsk, we go through all the trouble a’ getting you out here in a dress with your beau, an’ you still regurgitate all that drivel?” Uthengentle asked as she turned to face him.

“Drivel?” Serella frowned. “Uthen...I appreciate all that you—”

“Oh I know you do; our folks didn’t raise an ingrate.” Uthengentle held up his hand. “But there’s a fine line between humility and shame. You walked past it about two decades ago.” He shook his head. “High time you stop hating yourself for other people’s perceptions of you.”

“I don’t...hate myself.” Serella argued gently but incredibly uncertainly.

“If I might interject, dear one,” Aymeric spoke up quietly. When she faced him  he softly held her hand in his. “Perhaps hatred is too strong a word, though...’tis apparent you struggle with loving yourself.” After a moment of clear debate with himself, he went on, “Uthengentle...told me of your history with the holiday.”

Surprised, she spared a glance at her brother, who only shrugged unapologetically. She took no offense; her past was hardly a secret.

“I’m guessing you told him about when we were kids.”

“Yep.” Uthengentle replied, popping the, ‘p.’

Looking back to her lover she shook her head, “I’m touched that you would go to such lengths to be here, though I wouldn’t want pity to compel you—”

“Naught but love guided me— and guided all involved, lest you wonder.” Aymeric reassured her with a squeeze of her hand. “...You may not realize it, but seems almost as thought you actively punish yourself for your titles. When you have a want, you deny it for fear of it being somehow wasted, and though you do not lack self confidence, I have never once heard you speak highly of yourself as a person, even a little.”

“That’s...disliking myself?” Serella asked— out of bafflement, not anger. She had not...considered it such. “It didn’t feel like it. I was just...I was being honest about what I am.” She shrugged. “I’m an adventurer.”

“So am I, Ellie, but we’re people before we’re professionals. S’alright to want things and...you know. Shite like that.” Uthengentle said with gentle exasperation. “...Thank your man for that line, by the by. Wouldn’t have thought to put it like that.”

Serella regarded her brother— really regarded her brother, and though he hadn’t said it in any of the years preceding this one, and realized that he’d been asking her to just let herself want to be a princess when the mood struck her— that she could be both, and an adventurer besides. She had...more or less just accepted, of her own volition, that she shouldn’t, though hadn’t recent events told her that having a life outside of adventuring was worthwhile? That building an identity outside of, ‘adventurer,’ was permitted, encouraged even?

“So, err,” Uthengentle had clearly run out of steam, holding up the basket he’d taken from her. “Pick a crown, eh, and get goin’, princess. I have more ladies to impress and all that.” He spared a sidelong but meaningful glance to Aymeric. “You be the seneschal I wasn’t, you hear?”

With an expression too solemn to only be regarding Little Ladies’ Day, Aymeric nodded.

“Uthen.” Serella said quietly, and let go of Aymeric’s hand and faced her brother fully. “I’m not a little girl crying over my scars anymore.”

“...I know.” Uthengentle said in a tone that matched hers. “Doesn’t mean I won’t still fight anyone what treats you wrong. If it came to it, him included, titles be damned.” He nudged the basket in her direction again and said in a thick voice, “Go on, pick one for your seneschal to give to you so I can give up the title for good.”

Looking at how upset her brother was at the mere suggestion, she wondered if, perhaps, she had been unknowingly hurting him, too, rejecting that she was allowed to be soft and want such soft things once in a while. Had he feared he wasn’t good enough at it because of what happened when they were kids, and taken every year’s offering to be her seneschal as personal rejection that stemmed from it? This had always been such a good holiday for them both, she had thought— at least, in their adult years...

“...Next year!” She blurted.

“What?” Her brother turned his head fully in surprise.

“Next year, I’ll still volunteer.” Serella said. “But I can take a break to be...not a seneschal. Wouldn’t mind having the best seneschal around escorting me for a bit, you know.”

“Oh? Escorting yourself, then?” Uthengentle sniffed.

“Nah, that’d just be conceited. But I’d like my brother to be my seneschal next year, if that’s alright. Just for a bit.” She puffed her cheeks out. “But it doesn’t count toward your score!”

“Sure,” Uthengentle agreed, his eyes shimmering. “I’ll still beat you, though. Always do.”

“That’s because you’re the best seneschal around.” She said with a sagely nod.

“...Pick your crown, Princess Shitehead.” Uthengentle groused in a voice warbling with unshed tears.

With a smile and eyes still stinging— from her allergies, that was her excuse— she carefully picked up a crown of red and mauve flowers and held it in her hands like it was some ancient and otherworldly relic she had no business holding.

“...Thank you, Seneschal Fuckwit.”

With another nod her brother beat a hasty retreat, though she didn’t take offense; he hated her seeing him get worked up over, “sappy things,” as he’d called it. Something she could work on with him, she supposed. Only seemed right, considering how far he went for her.

That would be later— next year, I’ll get him back! She swore as she took a breath and smiled over at Aymeric. A twinge of guilt hit her nerves when she realized he’d been trying to be respectful of their familial moment, having taken a step backward and averted his gaze. In a fluid motion, however, his attention returned to her with a step to close the distance and a widening of his smile.

“Think I picked a good one?” She asked, holding out the crown for his inspection.

He spared it a cursory glance and gently took it in hand. “I would say so,” he said with a nod. Holding it out as an offering, he asked, “May I…?”

Her already flushed cheeks growing more heated, she curtsied low enough for him to softly set the crown atop her head. When she straightened he beamed like the sun itself at her.

“How does it look?” She asked, though already fiddled with her sleeve cuff before he answered. “Silly, right? It must look silly.”

“Not at all— even such red roses pale in comparison to you.” He replied with that unfairly smooth godsdamned smile of his as he bumped their noses together. “As ever, you are a vision, Ella.”

“And as ever, you’re a sap.” She hid the way her face must have resembled a rolanberry with a kiss, and was reminded of how much she loved feeling his smile against her lips.

“With you alone, rest assured. Now, then: where might we start?”

“With the festivities?” Serella hummed and tapped a finger to her chin. “We could look at the decorations while I give you the grand tour of Ul’Dah; the event is more about the seneschals than anything else these days and, well,” she fanned her lashes at him as she kissed his knuckles, “I’ve already got my favorite one.”

“I am yours to command, Mistress Arcbane.” With a sweep of his arm, he bowed.

“Ser Seneschal,” she gasped as if scandalized, “so very forward!” With a laugh she laced their finger together. “Come, I know a few places you might like.”

***

**

*

As promised, Serella showed him places within the city she thought he’d like— and eagerly answered his questions about areas of Thanalan she could take him someday. Much as she would love nothing more than to spirit him away and show him more the this corner of the realm, he was, however superficially, acting as a political delegate, and thus could not leave the city proper without appropriate cause. Just as well; the city itself was entirely new to him all the same, and even something as mundane as introducing him to Mylla and Adalberta was, in itself, an adventure, he reassured her.

“This is one of my favorite quiet spots in the whole city,” she explained once they had stepped into the cool shade of the halls branching out to the many guilds in town. They took a seat at the lip of the fountain, and she let out a blissful sigh at the muted noise of the hustle and bustle of the city. “There’s many like it, but so few people come ‘round the Alchemist’s Guild— though that’s likely for fear of running into Guildmaster Severian.”

“‘Tis quiet here,” Aymeric mused softly. “And yet...I can still hear the whole city.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite!” Serella leaned in to murmur as though it was a secret. “The fountain helps mute everything— but the opening above us where the water comes in?” When she looked upward, his eyes followed. “Also lets in the echoes from all over the city. It’s a good place to duck into that’s quiet without feeling lonely.”

“The Vault has some such places,” Aymeric mused quietly, “in the halls near where the Houses of the Lords and Commons convene. The fountains there have not frozen, but no longer run.” His voice was soft as he admitted, “I tend to duck into such places between meetings— with so little foot traffic for the cold and the snow that drifts in, ‘tis a place of great solace for me.”

With such soft thoughts of muted sanctuaries, Serella’s imagination ran rampant with visions of her bringing lunch or tea for them to share in such places. Though sheltered, such places with open ceilings were doubtless still cold. They might press together— if she brought a blanket, or perhaps one of her fur lined cloaks, they might huddle together as they sipped. Moments of crystalline domesticity formed aching fractals in her mind— and ah, but it should perhaps worry her that the mundane had become fantasy.

“If it would not disturb you,” she spoke up before she could stop herself. “I might bring tea or something for you to take for lunch.” She shrugged. “I’d had half a thought to anyway whenever I was home, though I feared disturbing you between meetings.”

“Please disturb me so regardless,” he implored, cradling her hand with both of his. “Seeking respite as I might be, there is no peace I could find quite so soothing or so deep than by your side.”

Flatterer, the affectionate term pressed against her teeth but she swallowed it— she refused to ruin what felt an importantly tender moment.

“Tea and a blanket, then?” She suggested. “Maybe with lunch?”

“Just you would be more than enough.” When he caught sight of her blush he leaned to kiss her cheek. “Your company is more than enough— pray do not think aught else is needed for me to be the happiest man alive.”

“Right, sorry!” She shook her head with a laugh. “I try not to get carried away with such things, but sometimes my imagination gets away from me.” Ignoring the way her cheeks flushed she pointed at the flowers atop her head. “I blame the season, really. Makes me a bigger sap than normal. And really, I must look silly, rambling about such things in a flower crown like a mewling maid—”

“I would marry you in such soft splendor.” Aymeric said so softly she nearly missed it.

They both froze. He hadn’t meant to say as much out loud. She had simply not been expecting such a declaration.

Though the idea of marriage had been discussed near a year ago, it was more regarding the concept of marriage itself, and the hypothetical of them being married was only tangential. At the time, she had told him marriage was, “nice but not necessary—” and though she still held that belief in regard to the intimacy of their relationship not needing marriage to be as deep as it was, she could see it had merit. With her life as uncertain and treacherous as it was, to know that there would be no doubt as to what would happen to her pets, to their home, in the event of the darkness catching up to her would be an immense comfort.

And...well. She had decided some time ago that she would spend her forever with him, for so long as he wanted the same.

Aymeric’s eyes were wide with something akin to muted panic, and she realized that though there was only a moment’s silence it had doubtless been mistaken for her answer. She lowered her eyes demurely to watch the flower petals float gently in the fountain.

“I don’t think—” Serella felt him tense when she spoke haltingly. “—the church would let me wear a flower crown.”

Lifting her gaze to regard him with a sidelong and bashful smile she couldn’t help but giggle at the rare befuddlement that he gaped at her with. He looked at her as though he had not thought she would ever agree to marry him— had she done that, too, refusing to want for things as she had?

“No?” His voice cracked with his bewilderment. He cleared his throat and quietly admitted, “I, ah, I do not know what requirements the church would have for a ceremony.”

“Nor do I.” She leaned more full against him with a sigh. “I’m sure we’ll find out later.”

“Together, I should hope.”

“Naturally.”

She felt his smile when he kissed the top of her head— though that was followed by a huff of annoyance ruffling her hair when his linkpearl chimed. Knowing it for the call to return to the palace as it doubtless was, Serella sat up and pulled away from him.

“Ser Aymeric.” He answered with a finger pressed to his linkpearl. Though she could not hear the other voice from the caller, the way his expression fell gave away that she had guessed correctly. “Of course, I shall be there at once.”

“Duty calls?” She chanced, even as she knew the answer.

“As ever.” He answered in a tone that suggested he was trying not to grouse.

“T’would not be a day ending in ‘y,’ othewise!” Serella gave a laugh and stood. “Come, I’ll escort you back to the palace— I need my suit back, regardless.”

When she offered him her hand and wiggled her fingers he offered her a wincing smile as he accepted and stood. She paused mid step when he gently squeezed her hand and did not move.

“Ella,” he called to her around a thick swallow. With a breath, he tried again, “much of my time is already claimed by bureaucracy and politics. Such is the nature of the path I have chosen.”

“I know.” She reminded him.

“That...that does not mean, however, that I will not take what time I can and make it yours.”

“Make it ours, instead.” She shrugged and offered him a wide smile. “I like it better that way.”

Her words soothed the pinch out of his smile.

“Ours.” He promised, though his eyes were still clouded when he continued, “though I fear such time will be minimal— I know not when I would even be able to get away for something such as this again. But any chance I have to do so, I will.”

“I don’t want to be an obligation, dear one. I only ask you do so as often as you like.”

“Then my vow does not change.” He brought her hand to his and kissed her knuckles. “’Tis as I said: naught but love compelled me to be here.”

Ahh, but this conversation was familiar to her— though with a different context and a different sort of love. That it was some decade and a half past was of no consequence: Serella remembered a certain Captain Seneschal speaking to her in the same hushed, regrettable tone that something out of his control but a direct result of the life he led left little chance for them to have such a sweet day together. Though she herself was the Captain now and her Lord Commander didn’t need a cane this was no less loving, no less important. She was only sorry they would not meet in this life, Aymeric and her Da. That was alright, too, though; she’d tell him all about it later. Right now, in this moment with their hands intertwined she confirmed what had known for some time: that if there was a single soul on this star she would share forever with, it would be his.

“Now look who’s being silly.” Serella breathed a huff of laughter. “There’s so little of myself I can promise to you— you know that.” He nodded. “Our obligations have always come first because they must, but that doesn’t mean we can’t create our own happiness. That we try at all is what matters.”

“I fear you will grow tired of waiting for my availability.” He admitted with a wince— as if he had not taken every effort to be hers. “I worry I am denying you greater happiness elsewhere.”

“Ridiculous.” She replied. She  leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth— for how else could she nurture the wilting smile that sat there? His smile bloomed when she asked rhetorically, “for who could I love but you?”

***

**

*

Though being mother to not only one, but two Warriors of Light made visits with her children difficult, Myrina was still never surprised when either of them stopped by for a visit.

So when she heard a knock on her door just as her kettle began to whistle, she merely smiled and pulled a second cup from her cabinet— she measured the cadence of the raps on her door: four, equally spaced apart. Serella was paying her a visit this time.

Sure enough, her daughter stood in her entryway brushing off what dusting of snow had gathered on her shoulders.

“Evening, Ma!” Serella greeted. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Don’t be ridiculous— I’m your mother...and retired, besides!” She tutted, ushering her daughter inside. “I half expected to hear from Uthen; always calls to brag about how the festivities went and all.” She shook her head distractedly as they moved further into the house. “But here we are, but a week on after Little Ladies’ Day, and not a peep! I presumed he was still tending his wounded pride.”

“His first loss to me as Seneschal!” Serella beamed. “He took it with grace when we tallied everything up at the end. I would have been an ass had I gloated.”

“Did you?”

“...Privately.”

Though they shared a laugh, Myrina couldn’t help but worry when she saw how distracted her daughter looked even through the smiles and laughter— had something happened?

“How are you, Ella?” She asked instead.

“Hm?” Her daughter blinked widely as though she hadn’t been prepared to be asked that question— odd, given that she had come for a visit. Every motherly instinct that Myrina had instantly told her that there was something wrong. “Oh, I’m alright, Ma.” Serella promised. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“You could never— though you already asked that,” Myrina admonished gently, already ushering her into the den. “Kettle just went off— tea?”

“No thank you.” Serella replied, and Myrina noticed her hands were fidgeting.

For her daughter to decline tea...was she ill? Had she been hurt? Had someone hurt her?

“What happened?” She asked stonily. Even as she asked, the retired Dragoon winced; she knew her overprotective nature regarding her children was silly, grown as they were now.

It didn’t prevent her from devolving into a snarling wyrm ready to tear the flesh of those who wronged them asunder.

“Nothing,” her daughter reassured her, at last having her focus honed. “Nothing, I swear— or at least—” fidgeting hands again. Myrina prayed to Halone that no one had upset or tried to hurt her little girl to make her fret so. That she was a near fulm taller and built like a mountain did not matter, Myrina would demand blood regardless. “Nothing bad, please stop glaring a hole into the wall, Ma.”

Myrina hadn’t even realized she’d been doing it, though her daughter’s words did much to put her at ease.

“Well, what’s this all about, then?” She asked, hands on her hips. “You’ve not even taken your coat o—”

“Are you familiar with societal standards for Ishgardian courtship?” Serella blurted.

Though not surprised, Myrina wondered where this was going— and what had prompted it to begin with.

“As much as one like myself can be, yes.”

“I— I debated coming to you about it. I wasn’t sure if it would bring up unpleasant memories or not, speaking of Ishgardian courtship and expectations.” Serella explained, stumbling over her words. “Then I realized that what you know might just be outdated— no offense, Ma— so I wasn’t even sure whether I should ask you or go to Lord Edmo—”

“Serella.” Myrina cut off her rambling as gently as she could manage. Even before she had snapped her mouth closed and blinked owlishly at her it was clear that her daughter was having, admittedly funny, troubles in the area of romance. “Ishgard is changing, but like a great many things, society changes slowly. Courtship rituals are largely the same, from what I have observed.”

“Alright...good, that’s a start.” Serella nodded to herself. “And did you? Court anyone, I mean? Before Da?”

“A knight or two,” Myrina replied coolly, and resisted the urge to puff her chest out just a little when she added, “I was no noble by birth, though that hardly made a difference to the squires and the like.”

“Was marriage ever discussed?”

“Ella...what do you really want to know?” Myrina frowned. “What is this about?”

“Is it...would it be inappropriate,” Serella began slowly, “if I were to ask a lord to marry me?”

“‘A lord,’ she says, as if I wouldn’t know who,” Myrina scoffed, even as she smiled and shook her head. “Not inappropriate at all— knights propose to one another often, my dear.”

“But he’s the Lord Commander!” Serella blurted. “And the Lord Speaker, and the viscount of his house!”

“And you are the Warrior of Light, Slayer of Nidhogg, Captain of the Lominsan Maelstrom, and bearer of a dozen other titles I’m forgetting in my old age.” Myrina gently reminded her. “And he’s smitten with you besides.” She patted her daughter’s hand and led her toward the table. “And though it wouldn’t be inappropriate for you to ask, there’s still a way you need to do it— come, let’s plan this out, my dear. Honey with your tea?”

Finally, her Ella released the tension in her shoulders and smiled. Shucking her cloak and hanging it up, she moved to sit at the table. Cups duly sat upon saucers and pen and parchement laid out upon the table, Serella listened to Myrina’s guidance, and her trembling hand began to form her petition.

[thebastardofgloucester]

all the posts collating reactions to The Empire Strikes Back or writing mock Rotten Tomatoes reviews to imply that the criticisms of this film aren’t worth paying attention to are just…so missing the point

exactly two works that said what ‘Star Wars’ was existed at the time of Empire’s release in 1980: Star Wars (not yet renamed ‘A New Hope’) and Alan Dean Foster’s 'Splinter of the Mind’s Eye’ (a sequel written in case Star Wars was a flop that could be filmed on a shoestring budget and without Harrison Ford. It’s Wild and puts the lie to the idea that Lucas had any idea where the Skywalker story was going; highly recommend)

in the year of our Lord 2017, The Last Jedi was released as the third film in a revival of a six film, single creative vision franchise, with the added baggage of over two decades of novels, comics, video games, and other media (the only thing ever fully expelled from canon was the infamous holiday special, which, honestly, had greater creative merit than some of the stuff that got to stay)

what’s the point? Expectations. No, not people who didn’t want anything to change and are Mad About It or whatever facile narrative the authors of those blog posts and reviews are using to explain why this film is probably more divisive than the goddamn prequels. The problem is that not only does The Last Jedi clash with decades of fandom, it is even at loggerheads with its sister films in this particular revival. and it doesn’t get the same benefit of the doubt that ESB got because that’s not how franchises and fandoms actually work. you don’t get to ignore everything that came before to tell your own story. they have to work together. 

Sure, not everybody read the EU (and trust me some of them are better off for it). But almost everybody saw The Force Awakens, most of them saw Rogue One, and a fair number of them, old and young fans alike, eagerly consumed the New EU content that offered glimpses into how the events of The Force Awakens came about and what mysteries were set up in what was effectively a reboot rather than a sequel. Generally, you know, regardless of how much you hate 'puzzleboxes,’ it is reasonable to expect that what one film sets up will have a payoff in the next, particularly when the first film takes such care to be sensitive to what the fans want (as JJ and Kasden did with TFA) - because while this is a money faucet for Disney, sure, there’s no point in bringing this franchise back without those fans (and of course, their kids) - and what they got from Rian and the Lucasfilm story team was…a confirmation that they had been wasting their time. It’s all well and good to pull the rug out from under the audience (as this film does incessantly) but it’s cynical bullshit to basically bait them with promo material and the preceding canon and then to deliver on basically nothing and expect everyone to just be okay with it. This film effectively penalizes the people who cared the most and spent the most time engaging with The Force Awakens and rewards people who may not have really been here for what Lucas was selling to begin with. As one review put it, it ‘does not care what you think about Star Wars’.

But when you set expectations as deliberately as Kennedy and the Lucasfilm Story Group did in JJ and Kasden’s TFA, it’s not great writing to blow them to pieces mid-narrative. It’s just lazy. the idea that Rey has no connection to the Skywalker line? a good idea, potentially, but clumsily executed, as it is played out less as an important revelation and more an excuse to not actually give any kind of answer to how Rey came to be Ben’s equal on the Light (or why she even is ‘Light’ honestly; I love Angry Rey but there’s seemingly no danger in her temptation) or where she got a skill set rivaled in this franchise only by literal Space Jesus Anakin Skywalker. Snoke is a one-noted villain; having him be betrayed by Kylo in the midst of his own villain arc? a very good idea. it belongs as the climax of the film, not the end of act 2 so there is no time for anything to breathe, just more never-ending crises and hardship.

Like, spare me the 'force visions are unreliable’ (Rey’s was unlike anything we had seen before, it wasn’t Anakin’s nightmare or Luke on Dagobah) bs; the film didn’t say that what Rey saw was wrong for x reason, it just pretended that it never happened and Rey didn’t say anything about it); spare me ‘our heroes have to fail and sometimes all the plans don’t work out’ we know that, we live in the real world of 2017 but while making your clever point you have wasted the presence of three extremely talented actors of color, and let down the audiences waiting for a chance to see people who look like them be the heroes for once. instead it turns out they didn’t actually matter all that much, but maybe next film! 

It’s not clever. It’s not visionary. It’s cheap, it’s cowardly, and it isn’t actually that original because the film leaves us exactly where we expected. Poe is the leader and Leia’s heir to command, Finn is a newly-committed Rebel brimming with unrealized potential, Rey is a Jedi character (amorphously defined) who we know exactly as much about as we started, Luke is gone, even if he went out in pretty spectacular fashion, Carrie’s death means that Leia will be leaving us soon, and Kyle Ben has become the big bad. That’s the only real development - Snoke’s death and Ben’s rejection of his redemption - and it’s buried under Rey, our erstwhile heroine, being a vehicle for the villain’s character development. The only character this film particularly cares about is a white fascist who gets every chance to be redeemed and rejects them while the film expects us to keep caring. 

So, yeah. People are mad. Not because of the same ‘the series is changed forever now’ shit that the haters of ESB were on about. Because the real changes? Ben being the real villain, the smallfolk of the galaxy being the source of light and conduits of the Force? I don’t see anyone complaining all that hard about them. 

the complaints are about the damage done to beloved characters for…not all that much of a payoff. the misuse and marginalization of the characters of color. the disdain with which the script treats the nostalgia of the Force Awakens. the unrelenting pace of the film that just grinds the Resistance (and the audience) down and just tells them to trust us, even as more and more and more is taken away. Rey’s parentage isn’t the only thing cast aside - promises of developments in Finn’s story - his identity, his potential to cause a revolt in the First Order, even his force sensitivity (you want a force user from nothing? how about a child soldier from a nameless family who as we are continually reminded used to be on sanitation crew) - are broken. Rey has her dream of family taken away…and replaced with…well the film doesn’t really bother to say because she’s a plot device for most of act 3. We don’t get to see her reject Ren and leave him. Because this isn’t her story; it’s his. Kylo is unconscious, so the scene is over. Tell me how that is a satisfying arc for our erstwhile protagonist? Poe’s character is completely uprooted from what we’ve seen before to make him an obnoxious hotheaded menace whose emotions threaten the survival of the Resistance if two old white women aren’t able to keep him in check. Rose says a lot and gets to do almost nothing. Luke…Luke is torn down to justify the fall of Ben Solo, never given the chance to establish a meaningful bond with his erstwhile successor, and is only given the chance to atone by acting as a diversion to give the others time to escape. he dies alone, a failure, even if he is at peace with how things turned out.

last year we were shown a movie in the wake of one of the more traumatic political events in the life of the people on this website where a diverse and sympathetic cast fight hard and are entirely wiped out. But their deaths come in a spectacular and charged finale that carries the desperation and grief and pathos through into the beginning of the story we know and love. it all feels worth something. Rogue One has its flaws as a film but it comes together in a way that The Last Jedi does not. In the end, what Jyn and Cassian and the others do is just enough to get the plans away, to start the sequence of events that will lead to the Empire’s destruction.

Here?

there’s just not enough left. not enough of the Resistance, not enough story, not enough hope. 

to have that hope repeatedly stripped away and cynically exploited through a narrative that drags the characters from crisis to crisis without bothering to justify itself or its role in the story (while retreading the highlights of Episodes V and VI without the emotional depth to back them up), and in so doing wears down the audience as much as the characters is not why I have devoted so much of my life and emotional energy to this series about space wizards and their galaxy-destroying family squabbles and eventual chance for redemption. for all his many, many faults, George Lucas understood that.

you can’t just talk about hope. sooner or later you have to see it. You have to feel that what you are suffering will be worth it. The text needs to tell you as much. it’s clumsy and cliched and it is necessary. In the Empire Strikes Back, after Han is captured and Luke is beaten, the turning point is Lando. Lando changes the course of the movie, rescuing Leia and Chewie, who rescue Luke. They live to fight another day, and at the end they are wounded but among friends. 

the moment in The Last Jedi where that could have happened was when Leia’s signal went out. How terrific would it have been if after being betrayed by a scoundrel the original scoundrel with a heart of gold, Lando Calrissian, arrives at the head of a fleet made up of all the alien races so inexplicably missing from the sequel trilogy so far, fending off the First Order long enough for the Resistance to escape with most of the survivors on Crait?

But Rian had to have one last twist of the knife. so nobody came. only Luke, and only as a distraction to buy time that ultimately cost him his life and reduced his legacy to giving everything to atone for his past sins. there is no Lando moment. there is no turning point, no moment where a larger victory is hinted at. and no, a single stable boy far, far away from the war is not the same thing. It makes an interesting point about the force and the metanarrative of Star Wars. It is not what this film needed after everything it put its characters and audience through.

and so at the end I’m not hopeful. I’m just tired. So, very tired. And I miss what made me fall in love with this series about space wizards and the Skywalker family in the first place

[ravel-puzzlewell]

sense of community in tabletop rpgs

I was talking today with a friend about how cool the sense of community was in recent shadowrun crpgs, and I remembered how much I loved doing communities when I was running tabletop games, so I decided to write down the principles I used, mostly out of nostalgia, but maybe it’ll give someone ideas.

Communities are a great way to make players emotionally invested and do it *stealthily*, without them seeming it coming, so when you do a sneak attack of feels, it hits them hardest. The easiest way to establish the sense of community in your game, of course, requires your party to have a homebase where they return each time after an adventure. There are ways to manage it without homebase, but lets see the easiest route at first.

Homebase. It’s better to make homebase somehow interesting, to give it a distinguishing feature that immediately sticks out when you think of this place. It’s an advice not just for homebases, but for making locations in general. It can be geographical, like a city on the hills near a volcano, or cultural, like a city of demons exiled from hell, or even purely decorative, like a city that is covered in cacti. Cactus all over the place! It’s important to not overload players with these features and lore for them, though. Even if you’ve written 20 pages of deep intricate history and politics and cultural background for the place, don’t just pour it on players in one go.  Ease it out on them gradually, otherwise it all will blur together into a confused mess. When I establish new location, I make sure to give players no more than three features, which could be all explained with ONE string of logic and theme. Frex, a town was built on the slopes of a volcano by demons exiled from hell, because they wanted an environment closest to their lava-filled motherland. They also brought a special sort of cactus from hell, because it reminds them of home. The unifying theme there is Nostalgia for Hell.

Center of community. Next thing to establish is the social circle that the party will be interested in participating. The thing is, it’s gotta be hugely beneficial for them or the penalties for not engaging in that circle should be substantial. It’s because normally players will not go out of their way to engage like that socially without you basically forcing them.

For example, in one campaign that social circle was a guild of bounty hunters. Location-wise, it was a big tavern run by a druid and a former monster hunter who had a pet basilisk. So this tavern was decorated by the statues of various cool monsters, who were actually real monsters turned to stone. It was basically a hub for mercenary crews to get contracts. Players had to get involved, because otherwise they’ll get no quests.

Activities. Make sure your community has interesting activities, and I don’t mean that one festival fair that you did in a “filler episode.” Repeated structured interactions with NPCs are the key to players emotionally engaging and feeling like this place is a “home.” In my bounty hunters guild, there were ranks for the crews to climb to get better contracts with bigger rewards. You got points for how fast you did the quest, how many monsters you killed, how successful you were, and so on.  So when the players were getting there to get reward for quests, they were enthusiastically describing all cool shit they did to get more points, and other crews were chiming in and that’s how the community was engaged. There were also auctions, where crews would bet for special high-reward contracts, and other stuff that players could engage with.

Don’t let these interactions to turn into an automatized script, make them roleplay it. By that I mean don’t let them just go “I walk into a tavern and ask for quest”.  Make different little scenes every time. Party walks into a bounty hunting guild and here are the Skullsuckers in a brawl with Fluffbums. Are players gonna try to stop them or get in into the brawl? Don’t let them ignore it either. If they do nothing, they get hit with a flying beer cask, the chandelier falls, etc. It gives your community life, a bit of new flavor to each interaction. It also helps with the pacing, because if you run players at high speed of long action->5 minutes of shopping and rest -> long action again, they’re gonna be exhausted.

Sub-groups. In best case scenario you should be able to separate the community into little groups, kind of sub-factions. In bounty hunters guild it happened naturally, by the virtue of mercenaries already running in crews. Then you should give them some personal flavors - at first, one flavor per group, like mass effect races, - and establish some relationship between each other. Keep it real simple at first. These are Skullsuckers, they like to suck skulls. These are Fluffbums, they have fluffy bums. Skullsuckers are feudng with Fluffbums, because Fluffbums sometimes sit on skulls that Skullsuckers leave all over the place, and Skullsuckers hate it, because sucking skulls covered in fur is gross.

After first couple interactions you could see who your players are most interested in and then develop these groups with more details. Don’t do it before you’re sure these details will actually come up, because if you give every Skullsucker an intricate backstory, but your players are stubbornly hanging out with Fluffbums, it’s gonna be waste of time and effort and you’ll feel mad at players for not appreciating your ~art.~

Politics and drama. Your groups should infuse your activities with emotional stakes. Skullsuckers got your party’s contract and laughed in their face! Fluffbums provided them with tips and tricks to handle a particular monster! Two small groups united to out-bet the snobbish trust-fund palandins! I think this is pretty easy to do if you have a handle of your groups and your activities, you just gotta watch who your players like or hate and play the situations up to give them narratives in a framework of these activities.

NPCs. Last, but not least level is inter-personal relationships between players and NPCs. All players want the spotlight, but they usually don’t give it to each other. It’s basically a troop of several divas, all craving for attention. So you give your player an NPC who’s genuinely interested in their character as a person and wants to hear all cool stuff that happened to them.

Yeah, that caring what player has to say is SUPER effective in getting them emotionally invested in NPC. It’s actually scarily effective, one time I had a player who wanted to romance a talking garden gnome bc of that, which I certainly didn’t plan for.

Don’t push it though, start casual, don’t try to jump into soul-searching conversations right away. And instead of trying to design NPC to “seduce” a specific player, it’s better to get an idea for interesting NPC and let one of the players to take a bait. When you see who’s interested, you can develop it from here, and it will feel much more natural for the player, because from their perspective it was *their* choice to engage.

In the first evening of my party in the bounty hunters guild, they were getting picked on as rookies - standard practice in this type of environment. There was a particularly sharp-tongued leader of the rival group who was making fun of the party. I kept an eye on which of my players takes the bait - responds to him the most, - saw that it’s the cleric, and had them have a little short banter. Next time the party is in the guild and bragging about what dangers they bested for points, that guy is making witty comments again, but more directly addressing the cleric. Third time, they talk in private, still half-bragging half-mocking, but with more detailed emotions described. Like, the cleric says that they killed the red dragon and the rival is genuinely impressed. He tries to hide it, jokes that “well if you incompetent rookies managed to kill him, it was probably the weakest dragon in a world!,” but the player can tell he really thinks it’s cool. That’s it - next time the part is in town, the cleric is going to deliberately seek out the rival. Then it progresses naturally in “slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, 75k” format. It’s important to keep your NPCs reactive to what players are doing. If players are late from contract, on their way back they meet that rival’s group, because he was worried and went to help, and so on.

You know your player is hooked when after something important or cool happens, they go “I can’t wait to tell it to NPC!” Then you can arrange your dramatic payoff, like raising the stakes or making a hard decision. In bounty hunters campaign, the main quest of this party revolved around some sort of invasion from another dimension that was prophesied for specific time, because stars will align or some shit. Then in like 4 days before that date, the rival’s group gets in trouble on their contract - captured by devils or whatnot. Theoretically, the party has just barely enough time to go save them and get back in time for invasion, but it’s a huge risk. Do they leave the rival to die or try to save him and risk the fate of the whole world? The drama! The emotions! The nerves! The tension! Players yell at me and each other!

They go and save him, of course, and then they race back, but they don’t have to to prepare and rest fully, so they are desperate and think they’re going to lose. And then the entire guild shows up to help them, because the saved rival told them what happens and they all like our party. Even Skullsuckers are there! I cannot overstate how important moments like these feel for the players - after doing lots of little side-quests and regulating conflicts and establishing relationships, when this investment pays off, it’s cathartic. It’s moments like this when you make your players feel that everything they did mattered. Especially if they are at the low point and facing terrible odds, so that pay off is not decorative, but functional. Riding that wave, you can make any cheesy speech from guild leader about being a family and belonging and I guarantee you at least one player gonna tear up. It still was a hard fight for a party, but it was a very different emotional context. The party now felt like they had their backs covered, like they are part of the bigger whole, and that’s what a sense of community is ultimately about.

[swimintothesound]

Heartache, Optimism, and Pop-Punk: How The Upsides Changed My Outlook On Life

The best creations are born of pain. A sad consolation prize for the inflicted, the result of life experience and raw suffering. As listeners, we judge music based on how much life and “realness” bleed through it, but we also don’t experience anything in a vacuum. Art is tainted by our own memories and experiences. It’s the reason that two nearly-identical albums can feel so different. It’s the reason you enjoy A while I prefer B. Memory is where it all comes into play, and it’s what we add to art as humans. In experiencing art we inject a bit of our own story in the listening process and add on to the creation in whatever way we can.

This is how our tastes, perspectives, and very personalities are formed: through interaction with both art and the world around us. While a positive experience, association, or context can improve our perception of an album, the inverse can also ruin something that’s otherwise objectively good. Think about any album, movie, or TV show that you used to recover from a breakup. Hell, think about a restaurant that once gave you food poisoning. Whether it’s well-founded or not, there’s probably a negative association and personal bias at play skewing your opinion.

I’m of the school of thought that traditionally “great” music starts as something you don’t necessarily love on the first listen, but becomes better over time. Music with depth and complexity that reveals itself with each subsequent spin. Challenging its consumer to be better. Most of my favorite albums were records that I didn’t think much of (or simply didn’t like) upon first listen, but gradually kept burrowing their way further into my brain.

And while memories often retroactively color our impressions of art, sometimes there are also individual works that are able to overcome our own mental hang-ups. Art that’s so strong it’s able to break through our negative associations and emerge from the other side, still enjoyable.

This combination of growth over time and overcoming an uphill battle of negative associations is one of the reasons that The Wonder Years’ second album The Upsides is one of my favorite records of all time.

From a South Philly Basement

Before I get into weird personal history: some quick background info on the band. Founded in 2005, The Wonder Years are a pop-punk act from Lansdale, Pennsylvania. Following two years of singles, split and EPs the band released their debut album Get Stoked on It! In 2007. Taking queues from the early 2000’s easycore scene, the band’s first record was a keyboard-heavy form of biting pop-punk. Get Stoked is problematic, but also very symptomatic of the year it was made. It’s not a bad record, but it bears very few resemblances to the rest of the band’s work and has been retconned by the band for good reason.

The biggest point against Get Stoked on It! Is that most of the songs were written about generic late-2000’s pop cultural buzzwords. You got a track about a ninja, one about a cowboy, one about zombies, and much more! This is in direct conflict with the band’s later hyper-earnest heart-on-sleeve meditations that pulled from real life experiences and heartfelt emotions (as opposed to funny songs about astronauts). There are still some tracks like "Racing Trains" and "When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong" that foreshadow some of the band’s future stylistic leanings, but as a whole, the record is much more underdeveloped and juvenile than their later work.

The band would later go on to “decanonize” this release, publicly stating their distaste for it both in interviews and even referencing it in future songs. When a remastered version of the album came out in 2012, lead singer Daniel Campbell said “If you like the record, enjoy the new mixes. If you hate the record, I’m on your side” which is something I’ve seen very few bands do.

Within two years of their first album, original member and keyboardist Mikey Kelly left the band. His departure essentially represented a “soft reboot” for the band which allowed the remaining members to pivot the group’s sound and take their next album into a more “honest” direction. A year after Kelly’s departure the band released their sophomore album The Upsides in 2010, and my life would change forever.

B-rate Version of Me

In 2011 I went through a horrible breakup. It was my first real relationship, and it hit me as hard as you could imagine a 17-year-old being hit. I’d recently got my driver’s license, started my first job, and I was embarking on my final year of high school, so overall it was a turbulent time of change for me. One night midway through February I was spurred to purchase a digital copy of The Upsides on a whim based on a Tweet made by Amazon Music. This is something I never do, but I had just gotten off a shift at my job and wanted to fill the void with blind consumerism. The album was on sale for $5, so even for a cheap 17-year-old, there’s not much to lose at that price. I can’t even remember if I even previewed the album, but for whatever reason, that tweet was well-crafted enough to spur me into a purchase right then and there. I was in the mood for something new.

I downloaded the album, loaded it onto my iPod, hit play, and sunk into it.

I don’t know how well I’ll be able to articulate the particular brand of slacker malaise I was engaging in at this time, but most waking hours that weren’t spent school were spent in my room playing video games listening to podcasts and music. I was pretty much distracting all my senses and escaping from reality as much as humanly possible without the use of drugs or alcohol. I wasn’t depressed, but I was in a state. Nothing really cheered me up, so it was more of an ongoing war of attrition with my own brain.

I credit The Upsides with single-handedly lifting me out of this post-dump funk and getting me back to feeling like myself. With years of reflection, I was being far more dramatic than I’m giving myself credit for, but I guess that’s kinda the point of being seventeen. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it felt like it… until this album came along.

A Pop-Punk Oddessy

Upsides begins with a bait and switch. Most pop-punk detractors dislike the genre for pretty specific (and valid) reasons. Maybe they don’t like the genre’s propensity for bitter lovesick lyrics, or they’re turned off by the whiny vocals, but in most cases, they probably have a cartoonishly-exaggerated version of the scene in their head. Thanks to the genre’s explosion in popularity during the mid-90’s, most people just think the music consists solely of whiny Blink 182-types when that’s not the case. While there certainly is no shortage of nasally lovesick songs, that sound isn’t representative of the entire genre.

For better or worse, Upsides begins with exactly what people would expect from the genre. Within the first seconds of the album’s opening track “My Last Semester” a nasally slightly-filtered Campbell sings over a twinkling electric guitar “I’m not sad anymore / I’m just tired of this place.” Within 15 seconds the singing ceases and the guitar strings sustain. An electric whir emerges from the back of the mix and quickly overwhelms the held guitar notes. Suddenly the entire song, album, and band spin to life, energizing the track with a cacophony of brash drum strikes, a biting guitar riff, and a driving bassline. Campbell, now singing at the top of his lung repeats the first lyrics with an angry vitriolic twist, and with that, Upsides has officially begun.

Those first lines of the album sound stereotypical (great, another white dude talking about how sad he is) but upon closer inspection, they’re actually a beautifully-constructed phrase that flips the listener’s expectations on their head by talking about the futility of those sad feelings. It’s a notion that’s devoid of nostalgia, firmly present, and anxiously self-aware. This specific idea of not letting sadness win is a recurring theme throughout the album that the band circles back to frequently. The mantra comes full-circle on the album’s star-studded closer and is even developed further on subsequent releases. But in this first song, the singer articulates this concept by listing all the reasons he could be sad, but then explains that he opted to find the silver lining in his situation: his music. Campbell would go on to address this later in an interview explaining:

“I thought that I had kind of beaten my issues, but when you struggle with depression or anxiety, you never really win. You always carry it with you and the point I learned isn’t to win. The point is to keep fighting. It turned out that ‘I’m not sad anymore’ wasn’t a victory speech. It was a battle cry.”

The opening line pulls double duty by acting as the album’s thesis statement while also serving as the band’s new mission statement. This represents a far tonal shift from what we last heard on Get Stoked. They’re not the same group of 18-year-olds who were singing about pirates and zombies three years ago. They elude to this with the meta line “college hit those dudes like a ton of bricks.” The band did a lot of growing up since we’ve last heard from them, and they are guided by a new creative north star.

Art Imitates Life

The foundation that the band began to flesh out with this record (and would expand upon over the course of a trilogy of albums) is a style of hyper-intricate, self-referential, and pop-culture-obsessed rock that depicts the good and bad sides of a life well-lived. Early on the band used the term “realist pop-punk” when describing the sound of their artistic rebirth. Call it what you want, but it’s still one one of the most refreshingly honest and true approaches to music I’ve ever heard, and it was an absolute revelation to me at seventeen.

There’s beauty in simplicity, and sometimes real life is more compelling than anything you could ever make up. TWY’s music doesn’t revolve around sweeping epics, chasing material goods, or even the other, it’s all music that’s firmly told from one perspective and all bears the insecurities and imperfections that come with it. The focus of the music varies from song to song, but this singular perspective allows for a cohesive vision that the listener can simultaneously empathize with, and project themselves onto.

Throughout The Upsides, singer Dan “Soupy” Campbell flexes his now-well honed writing ability, making it obvious he’d time between albums studying and working on his craft. One of the most under-appreciated aspects of his style is his acute ability to write minuscule details. Small observations and references that add a layer of specificity that makes the album feel more realized and lived-in. Each line adds onto the story that the listener is building in their head until an entire narrative is formed around the character. You’re fleshing out your own universe built on the language of the album and developing a one-of-a-kind relationship with its narrator.

Sometimes The Upsides tackles big psychological issues like post-college listlessness, relationship dynamics, and even death. At other times they zoom down to view life on a macro level and vignette the little scenes that happen in life like a broken down car or going on a midnight pretzel run to the stand behind your house. Sometimes it’s funny and biting social commentary on the Westboro Baptist Church or the shitty fist-pumping people you meet at parties. It’s an album that encapsulates the life of a post-college 20-something from every possible dimension.

To me, the quintessential song on the album is the Deluxe Edition’s penultimate track “Logan Circle: A New Hope.” The song is a stripped-down reworking of the album’s second track “Logan Circle” that echoes many of the original track’s sentiments but also serves as an incremental update on the life of Campbell. “A New Hope” is redone in a slower, more pensive approach that allows the lyrics and instrumentation to shine through and glisten to their full potential, highlighting both the brilliance of the lyrics and the proficiency of the band members.

The first verse of the original “Logan Circle” contains a lyric that hooked me for the rest of the album: “We just can't blame the seasons / The Blue Man Group won't cure depression.” The line resonated with me originally because it’s an obvious Arrested Development reference, but it also doubles as a bit of life advice about optimism and outlook. This all circles back to the cliched idea that this album is something I needed to hear at the time. I wasn’t hopeless, but I needed something hopeful. I needed to be told how to handle these feelings I’d never felt before. I needed to be told how to combat them and move on with my life, and that’s exactly what The Upsides did for me. It was musical therapy.

Emergence

Though I didn’t consider it at the time, I’ve only recently come to realize that pop-punk has been the genre that I’ve listened to for the longest in my life. It’s partly a byproduct of when I was growing up (thanks, mid-90’s) but also it just happened to be one of the first genres that I really explored. As a result, there was something comforting about sinking back into the genre after spending some time away from it. I feel like It’s cheesy to admit an album about not feeling sad helped me stop feeling sad, but Upsides was instrumental in my emergence from sadness in the wake of this first relationship.

It wasn’t just the optimistic messages, it’s that the songs found the optimistic messages in the face of everything else. Feelings of sadness are not invalid, but with enough distance, you realize that there’s no reason for them, there’s nothing to be gained from them, only energy wasted. It was a realistic portrayal of exactly how I was feeling then. And more on-the-nose, the album’s breakup song “Melrose Diner” served as both a validation of my feelings and a cautionary tale about becoming the shitty, bitter ex.

My love for The Upsides grew exponentially with each listen, and within a year it became my most listened-to album of all time, a title that it still retains to this day. In fact, my love for Upsides grew with each subsequent album that the band released as future songs would call back to lyrics contained within their earlier works. By fall of 2011, I’d begun my first term of college and the band had released their third album Suburbia I've Given You All and Now I'm Nothing.

The Upsides marked the beginning of a three album “trilogy” that depict the arc of Campbell’s struggles with anxiety and depression, and with the trilogy’s conclusion in 2013, the band cemented themselves as my favorite act of all time. With three releases that were all equally impeccable, I’ve now spent roughly 12 days of my life listening to the band’s various releases, a number I wouldn’t take back if you paid me.

At the end of the day, The Upsides is one of a handful of albums that changed my life, and there’s no higher praise I can hoist upon it than that. It’s a well-crafted and powerfully intricate release that rewards close listens and spawned its own mythology. It engages the listener in a way that few other pieces of art do. There are lots of albums in my life where I can point to a clearly-defined “before” and “after” period, but Upsides is an album that changed my entire way of being. It shifted my world one step towards a more positive existence, and I can’t thank the band enough for that. It’s a radical powerhouse of a record that I still listen to nearly every week, and I can’t fathom my life in a world without it. It’s a beautiful creation, and the world is a more beautiful place for it.

Thank you for everything, Upsides.

[zevakritpel]

Hell-bent: Chapter 4- GET'CHA HEAD IN THE GAME

<Chapter 3       Chapter 5>

Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke

Pairing: Aokise, MomoRiko, Kagakuro, MuroMura, more???

u can find this on AO3 lol

Summary: Adult AU, Criminal Underworld AU. Where Kagami Taiga is a young heir suddenly targeted by 6 rather dangerous members of the criminal underworld (each with their own set of personal troubles), and Kuroko is a bodyguard with a dark past.

Warning: Violence, Strong language, a lil dark and angsty sometimes. Getting spicier ;^)

[Saturday. 12:49. Forgive Me ]

All good things must come to an end, as the smitten public in this café know all too well; they look on tearfully, sighing with collective disappointment when the dangerously good-looking pair finally take their leave. Though they depart now, perhaps the beauties will one day return to grace the shop once more with their presence...one can only hope.

"Th-thank you for your patronage! Please come again!!!"

Back out on the street, Momoi and Kise get ready to part ways.

"Geez, that Dai-chan...he actually took off," Momoi sighs, shaking her head apologetically. It's not like she hadn't been expecting this, but come on. At this rate, she'll have to leave it to Ki-chan, and though Momoi gets it, she's concerned the model may be too consumed with thoughts of Tetsu-kun and the game to give Dai-chan a proper 'challenge' (so to speak).

...Or not. One side glance at Kise's profile is enough to dispel most of Momoi's worries: yeah, that's a nice expression he's got there.

"Oh, I doubt he's gone far," the model mutters in an uncharacteristically dark tone, staring fixedly on something in the distance. After a pause, he snaps his gaze back momentarily to Momoi and flashes her one last farewell grin.

"Thanks for today, Momocchi. I'm sure we'll talk soon."

"Take care, Ki-chan!"

Momoi waves goodbye, then turns to start walking in the opposite direction.

A large part of her hopes that Ki-chan succeeds in coming through to Tetsu-kun tonight, but....well, realistically....

It takes her a solid half hour to reach her next destination, as she makes a point of dipping through back alleys and secret short cuts to get to the more unsavoury part of this cesspool of a city.

Finally, at the end of a long string of dilapidated buildings and deserted houses, lies an old, rundown Catholic church. Judging from the shattered stain glass windows, the vulgar graffiti splattered across the walls, and the layers of grime that have accumulated around the grounds, it would appear that this church hasn't been in use for a long, long time.

After a quick check of her surroundings (doesn't look like she's been followed), Momoi pushes past the heavy oak wood doors and enters the building.

The air inside is dusty and stale, as expected, the floor littered with dirt, cobwebs, and is...that a dirty condom?  Not to mention the rat that Momoi's pretty sure is crawling out by the long-unused altar...still, she's too struck with a wave of nostalgia to be particularly bothered.

Even all dark and abandoned, places like these always remind her of the old days, with Tetsu-kun and Dai-chan, when the three of them would sneak out and hide between the pews of the orphanage chapel a lifetime ago...

A small cough from the far left side  interrupts Momoi's sentimentality, a signal to the information broker that it's time for an update.

She takes a seat in the confessional booth, and as she does so, the screen between compartments slides open.

"Sakurai-kun. What an interesting rendez-vous point you chose. But did we have to talk through the confessional, or-"

"S-sorry. I didn't want to be followed so I... and, in case anyone sees...in any case I'm really sorr-"

"O-oh, no, no it's fine. So? What do you have for me?"

"Sorry. She ended up taking the bait, but before I could do anything, some third party group moved in and attacked."

Whoah whoah whoah.

What.

"Sor-...I mean, what's this?"

"I'M SORRY. I'm really really sorry."

"No, it's okay, Sakur-"

"-So sorry-"

"It's oka-"

"Sorry. I didn't plan ahead for that kind of situation."

"It's not your fault, you don't need to apolo-"

"SORRY. I DIDN'T CONTACT YOU EARLIER BECAUSE THE INCIDENT MADE ME PARANOID AND I WAITED TO MAKE SURE I WASN'T BEING FOLLOWED, SO I'M SORRY I AM WORTHLESS AND INCOMPETENT"

Having to deal with the likes of Aomine for about two decades has certainly helped Momoi develop a hardy patience, but she isn't sure she'll ever be advanced enough to properly handle the mess that is alias Sakurai Ryou.

"Sakurai-kun, you didn't do anything wrong. Is there anything else you can tell me about what happened?"

"Sorry. There was another guy with her, he looked kind of stupid. Got shot in the right shoulder."

"A subordinate?"

"Most likely."

"How's Aida, then?"

"They clipped her, but she was able to drive away in time."

"And the assailants, what did they look like?"

"They drove past in a black SUV, I couldn't get a proper look. I'm sorr-"

" You did a good job, I'll look into the rest of that later today and contact you after that. Thanks for your hard work!"

Momoi escapes before Sakurai takes the opportunity to squeeze another hundred apologies.

What a troubling development...

Could it be something to do with Muk-kun's news earlier this morning, or is it something else entirely....?

Whoever it is, how dare they get in the way of her fight with Aida Riko. Since Ki-chan's working hard tonight, Momoi must also step her game up.

Speaking of Ki-chan...Momoi wonders how Dai-chan is holding up...

[Saturday. 13:03. Just So We're Clear, That Is A Gun In My Pocket And I'm Not Happy To See You]

By the time Aomine realizes the warm weather is getting to him, he's already made it halfway home, with his shirt clinging to the sweaty skin of his back, and his head and throat suffering from sharp dehydration pains. Probably should have reconsidered walking home under this sun in a black shirt, but it's too late for regrets now.

For some reason, Aomine was too preoccupied to notice all this until now.

Luckily, an oasis in the form of a vending machine is close at hand. Aomine heads straight to it, rifling through his pants' pockets for loose change. He wants Aquarius, but what kind should he get...

Aomine slips the money through a slot, and presses the button for his desired sports drink, and...

Hm. Presses it again.

....one more time.

.................six more times, very rapidly.

Inhales deeply, then tries another button. Nothing.

Okay. If that's how things are going to be, then it's time to change tactics. Gripping either side of the vending machine, Aomine begins channeling his rapidly- growing rage through his hands. He gets in a ready stance, about to show this damned contraption exactly who it's dealing with.

However, before Aomine even has the chance to engage in battle, a hand suddenly reaches under his arm and makes a selection.

A bottle of mineral water immediately drops down from its holding place, and the difference in change rattles out: transaction complete.

".....................Goddamnit Kise.."

"Hey, Aominecchi~. Long time no see."

Ahh..

That voice...this is a hundred times worse than he imagined it would be.

Aomine turns around, dark blue eyes narrowed menacingly to glower at the real fucking problem beaming back at him.

"'Hey~' my ass. Do you wanna die? You'd better buy me my drink right now."

"Ehhhh?? That's what you have to say aft-...ah ! He walked away! Aoooomineeeecchiiii waiiit!!!"

There's a bench sitting under the shade of a bus stop some fifty meters away, and this is where Aomine waits, legs outstretched, for Kise to catch up.

There's really no chance of running away now, huh...

No non ono . What? It's not like that. It's ..not. Like. That.

Before Aomine has the chance to settle his thoughts, Kise is already bouncing back, equipped with a clear plastic bottle.

"Here!" the model chirps, tossing the drink into the air for Aomine to catch. He remains standing, siding himself next to the bench...close enough that Aomine can smell the faint scent of his cologne.

"Tch. Why'd you get me lemon flavour..."

"You left before telling me what you wanted!"

Aomine freezes. Hearing Kise say those words, even out of context and in that playful, pouty tone, is momentarily jarring, for reasons he doesn't fully want to understand. He recovers quickly by twisting the top off his blissfully cool bottle and drains half the contents in one go.

"Oh, you're drinking it anyways..."

"So?  What do you want."

The corners of Kise's mouth twitch, and he leans his shoulder against the metal post next to the bench before responding:

"....You were there earlier, right?"

Geh.

"This is the first time in years Aominecchi has come close to me, of course I'm going to take the opportunity to see you."

Ah fuck.

Aomine shifts, so that his body is facing slightly away from Kise, and flips the bottle in his hand nonchalantly.

"Ah, that? Don't misunderstand. It's because Satsuki told me-"

A silence ensues, long enough for Kise to move closer to Aomine, tilting his head to the side expectantly for the rest of the explanation.

"-Because Satsuki told me to do it............By the way, what's with the glasses? They look stupid?"

Nailed it.

"Oh, these?" Kise taps the red frames, golden eyes blinking innocently as he tries to adjust to the abrupt subject change.

"My manager told me to try and hide my face when I'm out during the day, otherwise the fangirls get too much-"

"UGH"

God, the earnest way he answered is annoying in itself, but more importantly: what, is he Midorima to seriously think that throwing on a pair of glasses counts as a disguise?

"I want my concern back..."

"Hmmm?! What's this, Aominecchi was worried about me?"

"Huh, who'd be concerned about a fucking idiot."

"sob.....Aominecchi..."

There's a sudden lightness in Aomine's chest, as if a weight has been pried off him. Though he'd rather die than admit it, he wonders if  perhaps this is relief from the knowledge that in spite of everything, Kise's stupid brightness hasn't dimmed out. Even if it's a false light, the familiarity of this banter alone is somehow ....comforting.

Carried away by this rush of this strange new feeling, the (more-or-less unemployed) fighter opens his mouth to speak...

"Kise-"

...only to be interrupted by the untimely buzzing of Kise's phone. Fucking classic.

"Ah sorry Aominecchi, can you hold that thought? I need to take this."

The model steps aside, casting an rueful look at Aomine as he raises the phone to his ear.

" Heyaaaaa P-chan <3.  It's so unusual for you to call me!!"

.............Who is he talking to?

Aomine looks away and swallows the rest of his sports drink, ignoring Kise as he chatters away into his phone. No, no, no, the false light is flashy and annoying, after all.

Hpmh.

"Ehhh? Right now? Well, if it's P-chan it's okay, but you'll have to take me to karaoke to make up for it! Ok ok, see you soon."

The model hangs up with a small sigh, then perks up again, raising two fingers in a V.

"Sorry, Aominecchi, looks like I have to go~. Let's catch up another time?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye."

Kise turns to go, and as he does so, the silver chain around his neck lifts up from the movement, and the cross at the end catches a flash of sunlight.

"Ao...minecchi?"

By the time his mind catches up to his body, which moved of its own accord, Aomine becomes painfully aware that he's gripping Kise's wrist.

Ahhh.......no going back now, huh.

[Saturday. 14:00. ..........]

"....................................-"

"Mi.....tobe?"

"!!!!............."

"AHaa aww hey...so it must have been you I heard calling out to me..."

"......................."

"Hey, hey, don't say that. This is nothing, I'm totally fin- *cough* - fine. Oooh that smarts..."

"................................"

"'You should've been there' ..?  Oiii. Riko gave you an important mission, right, so like, there's no way that's tru-"

"................."

"Mitobe..?"

"........"

"Yeah....me too."

[Saturday. 14:10. Obligatory Indirect Kiss Moment]

"Aaaaah, all that hard work today's made me hungry. Let's stop in here, Muro-chin."

Himuro isn't sure what part of curb stomping a couple of two-bit thugs, sleeping for another six hours, then dragging said thugs halfway across the city to go appliance shopping constitutes as 'hard work', but it's fine. At least that business is done and over with (the installation people are coming tomorrow to restore peace to the Araki safehouse once more).

He follows Murasakibara through the convenience store entrance, pretty worn out himself by the events of the past 24 hours; all he has to show for today's efforts are a massive bruise and a deep sense of dissatisfaction.

Well, not everything is bad; spending time with Atsushi outside like this is nice in its own way.

Murasakibara's fearsome stature attracts attention no matter where he goes, but he's especially eye-catching when in the proximity of snacks. It takes under a minute for the killer to burn through half the store, returning to Himuro already cradling an obscene amount of food in his right arm.

"Was it really alright that we left those two guys like that in the end... you know, you're too brutal, Atsushi" Himuro scolds, accepting the bag of potato chips Murasakibara is trying to place into his hands (what's this? He needs help?? There's actually a limit to how much food Atsushi can carry???) as they head towards the freezers.

"Ehhhhhhhh, isn't Muro-chin way more violent than me?" Murasakibara drawls, extracting four boxes of popsicles at once with his free hand.

In light of today's events, and the events of many a time in the past, Himuro finds himself unable to deny this; Atsushi makes a fair point.

At the cashier, they encounter a dead-looking employee that doesn't so much as flinch at Murasakibara's mountain of snacks. Himuro can't help but feel impressed by the youth, whose dull eyes have seen Too Much from working in convenience store retail.

Ten plastic bags later, and they're out the door again.

"So, about that...." Himuro starts, speaking over his shoulder as Murasakibara comes up behind him, rustling through his purchases to open a bag of candy.

"I did something unnecessary, right? It feels like my meeting with Haizaki Shougo somehow set him off..."

Murasakibara rips the wrapper off a lollipop with his teeth, sucks on the candy pensively for a moment before taking it out of his own mouth and slipping it between Himuro's unsuspecting lips.

"Mmmmm, I think that guy getting involved was pretty inevitable. Anyways, it's Kise-chin's problem now, so Muro-chin definitely shouldn't worry about it."

Strawberry flavour. Still warm from Atsushi's mouth- ah, no, focus, Himuro. Focus.

"Kise...oh, Ryouta. He's another one of you 'Miracles', yeah?"

"Mmmhmm. He'll probably be first coming after your Kagami Taiga, so if you want-"

A shadow crosses over Murasakibara's abruptly displeased face, and the veritable giant grabs Himuro's hand and begins to pull him into a quick pace away from the convenience store.

"Atsushi? What's wrong?"

Murasakibara checks his shoulder, then mutters:

"If we stay any longer, we're gonna run into someone reeeeally annoying. I'll tell Muro-chin everything, so let's just get out of here."

Himuro doesn't have a single complaint with this arrangement.

[Saturday. 14:24. Someone Reeeeally Annoying]

"Don't laugh, Takao!"

"Ahahaa I'm cr-..ahh, Shin-chan, I'm crying ahahhaaa. That thief just ... ahahhaa...to you of all people...and took your bag...do they know they fucking stole a stuffed mouse like.. what're they going to do with that? .... i can't.....owww my stomach hurts."

"Don't be so loud. And this is a serious problem, my life is in danger if I don't have my lucky item with me, this is no time to be laughing!"

"Aha, I know, I know. Let's stop in this store first, I'll call someone to deliver you a new taxidermy    mouse..... I can't believe I just said that out loud, I'm gonna pee my pants..."

"TAKAO!!!"

"Ooh, watch your step, Shin-chan, you almost walked right into that pothole. Jeez, you weren't kidding about the bad luck."

"I am not in the habit of 'kidding'"

"Haha ohhh Shin-chan."

[Saturday.15:01. Pure]

What's Riko supposed to do when she's hard-pressed for information on a large, mostly unknown enemy, but the person to whom she delegated the task of finding certain crucial facts is currently kneeling at Koganei's bedside, fingers intertwined with Koga's own as the two of them snooze together peacefully in spite of the urgency of the situation?

[Saturday. 18:33.  Resolve]

Kise shivers.

Carefully, so as not to rouse the peacefully-sleeping P from her slumbers, he stands up from the edge of the bed and checks the time: still a bit too early, huh?

The model sighs and looks down at the inside of his right arm; the place where Aomine had grabbed him to pull him back still burns with the memory of the touch.

In the end, the other man had just hurriedly scrawled a 7 digit phone number onto Kise's forearm and sauntered off with the flippant parting words: "I guess I can take one for the team and listen to you ugly cry after you fail tonight. See ya."

How very like Aominecchi, this brash, roundabout kindness. Kise had thought his original intention in approaching Aomine was to force him into acknowledging him, but now the model is not so sure. Rather than settling a score or being noticed, this is more like...

Kise presses his hand against his chest and takes a deep breath.

This feels good: whether it's playing with everyone again, this business with Kurokocchi, that business with Aominecchi, his modeling, his other jobs, even the lovely P-chan over here... there's a thrill here, a sense of life.

That's why he's not going to let anyone take this feeling away from him.

Not again.

[Saturday.19:11.  Jealousy Is An Ugly Thing, Dorothy]

Haizaki Shougo is in what some people might refer to as a 'bad mood."

He shakes his right hand out, flicking off some of the blood dripping from his scraped knuckles. Seems like the usual form of stress relief isn't working.

Meeting Atsushi's Ichimatsu doll has lead him to some pretty annoying information (...and speaking of which, as if that fucking one-eyed doll had the nerve to leave without putting up a proper fight? The fuck, so boring.) and now Haizaki has to take care of this shit all over again.

Isn't it embarrassing, the way the so-called 'Miracles' are all still repeating the same bullshit as when they were brats? Playing their shitty 'games' again, hyped up on a sense of superiority while hiding from how fucked up their lives really are...it's pathetic.

And then there's that fucking Ryooooouta.

Haizaki licks off some of the blood off his thumb, smiling a little in spite of himself.

There's no doubt in his mind that the new development has caused that bitch to get ahead of himself again.

If it isn't Haizaki's job to put him back in his place, then what is?

[Saturday. 19:25. Danger: Do Not Cross]              

"Uhhmm, Seijuro-kun...haha.. this is not.. what we agreed on.."  Client Xy stutters with an unpleasant laugh, openly agitated. He mops a bit of sweat off his forehead with the white handkerchief crumpled in his hand.

Akashi closes his right eye and regards the man in the seat across from him with a silent, piercing golden-orange gaze. His legs are crossed, and the only movement he makes is the tapping of a closed folding fan rhythmically against his knee.

Pitiable, how little it takes for Xy to start snapping under the pressure.

"I mean, really, Seijuro-kun, I thought the Akashi syndicate wasn't affiliated with the yakuza? If I'd known, I never would have...I have a hard time believing your father would-"

Akashi gives one final tap before holding the black fan out in his slender fingers in gesture.

"My father," he begins softly, with eerie temperance.

"No longer has any control over my business."

He does not elaborate, and Xy is at least wise enough to let that one go.

"It's just, n-no one told me you were going to get the Araki clan involved in this," he continues, trying to speak indignantly, which would be more convincing if he wasn't covered in nervous sweat.

"Is that why you sent me such a pleasant surprise last night?"

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Oh? Perhaps your men were the ones from last Thursday, my mistake. It is difficult for me to keep track of all the disobedience."

This is Akashi's idea of a joke: he doesn't make mistakes, and it's not difficult for him to keep track of anything, because he is perfect.

"Now l-listen, I don't know what you're insinuating, but if it's the case that others have been retaliating, maybe you shouldn't be so full of yours-EEP"

Xy's blathering is cut off quite suddenly as Akashi flicks his fan open, revealing it to be an ornate tessen.

"Do you understand, Mr. Xy, that the only reason you are still breathing is because I am gracious enough to allow it? You are useful to me, but not so useful that I will tolerate any more insolence from you or anyone else."

It's unclear whether Akashi's surprise weapon or his unyielding glare is more threatening. Either way, Xy looks like he's about to pass out.

"Though it may not be to your liking, I believe you will find I am complying with every detail of our arrangement. Should you test me, or question my methods again, I will not show mercy a second time."

Mercy isn't exactly the right word, and Client Xy gets that. He really does. Akashi Seijuro has a role for him to play, and he's in too deep to back out now, for fear of ending up having to choose between dying in the ocean or the mountains. Or whatever happened to the 'pleasant surprise' he actually did send out to Akashi the other day.

Fucking kids these days are horrifying.

Naturally, Xy stumbles out of Akashi's residence as fast as his legs, jellied from fear, can carry him, leaving Akashi alone in this cold empty home once more.

After sitting in silence for a couple minutes, Akashi blinks several times and pulls out a shogi board from the living room table.

[Saturday. 20:07. A Date...???]

"Kagami-kun," Kuroko begins, regarding the heir's handstand pushup routine with an inscrutable look in his eyes. The consequent reveal of chiseled abdominal muscles from gravity pulling Kagami's black shirt down is not going unnoticed.

How troublesome.

"Not that I am complaining, but you have not expressed a single wish to go outside today."

"Yeah, so?" Kagami grunts, tucking his right hand against his back and balancing his whole weight on the left. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple.

"Not like I have anything to do out there, anyways."

"Is that so? You were pretty adamant about being 'freed'. Are you sure there is no one you would like to visit, at all?  I can always make arrangements..."

"Who would I even visit?" the heir mutters, slowly returning his feet to solid ground, and straightening himself back up to a standing position. His cheeks are still a little red from all the blood rushing to his face.

"I've only been living here for a couple of months, it's not like I really know anyone besides Aida's men... and you, I guess."

"...................."

".....w....why are you looking at me like that?"

"How sad. That the young master is unable to make any frien-"

"Sh-shut up, Kuroko!"

Oh dear. Teasing Kagami is far too easy. Truly, the young heir is a pleasant surprise in many ways.

"Then, did you want to go out anyways?"

"Huh?"

Kuroko gestures to the door with his thumb.

"That burger place we went to yesterday....I liked the vanilla shakes."

Taiga stares down at Kuroko for a few moments with his double-brows furrowed, as if processing the bodyguard's words, then grins.

"Fuck yeah, let's go."

It's almost certainly too dangerous to be wandering about at night in these trying times (Kuroko has no doubt at least one of the main players will make their move tonight), but the bodyguard finds that, aside from the initial objective of wanting to bait the enemy, he there's also these knew sentiments coming up: Taiga clearly doesn't have it easy, but he's so strong-willed and bright that Kuroko can't help but want to see him shine brighter.

His determination is now absolute: Kagami Taiga will be protected, at any cost. This does not impede Kuroko's initial objective; rather, it serves to strengthen his will with no regrets.

"Yes, let's go."

[Saturday. 20:10. Hello?]

"I'm going on ahead," Kagami calls over his shoulder, shoving his hands into his pockets as he heads towards the elevators. He presses the down button and waits, feeling strangely excited.

Honestly, he had thought that this personal bodyguard bullshit was just Aida making him suffer, and even though Kuroko is still infuriating and a little spooky, Kagami finds himself thinking it might not be such a bad arrangement after all. He's interesting, to say the least. And it's true, Kagami hasn't spoken one on one with people outside Aida's circle lately, so it's ...well. Fun.

The light above the elevator lights up with a PING, and Kagami steps forward as the doors slide open.

But he can't move.

Every nerve in his body tenses up, as if to brace itself from the sensation of overwhelming bloodlust suddenly aimed directly at him. Something like a glint of gold flashes by him, and the sensation fades just as quickly as it had appeared.

Heart pounding in his chest, Kagami looks around, alarmed, but is only surrounded by empty halls.

The elevator doors close shut.

Kagami's trained ears hear nothing save for the sound of his own breathing. And yet, he's sure there was something...someone there.

What the hell is this? Could it be-

"Kuroko-?"

"Guess again <3"

Notes from AO3: i hope one day Momoi and Kise return to that coffee shop with Himuro, thus completing the trifecta of KNB in-universe beauty queens. Tho I'm not sure it's safe for the innocent public if that trio ever gets together...

naturally, by the time this ever happens, Ahomine will have riko to join him in jealously watching from the safe distance of the noodle shop. such is the fate of irritable possessive people whose love interests are far too popular and carefree.

also RIP muro and midorima in every bit i write for them, ever lol sorry you two i always make you suffer

THANKS AGAIN FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AND WILL CONTINUE READING THIS SILLY STORY OF MINE

[eddiejpoplar]

The Roush Ford Mustang Stage 3 Blends GT500 Power with Finesse

The most powerful Mustang of all time debuted in January in the form of the Shelby GT500, but it won’t be on sale until late this year. Can’t wait to get your hands on a Blue Oval pony car packing more than 700 horsepower? Roush has a solution: The 2019 Stage 3 Mustang, which boasts a supercharged 5.0-liter V-8 that churns out an immense 710 horsepower and 610 lb-ft of torque. That fusillade is routed through buyers’ choice of a 10-speed automatic transmission or a six-speed manual and on to the rear axle, which has been upgraded with Roush’s own upgraded half-shafts.

Roushin’ Is Racin’

The extra power comes courtesy of the longtime Ford tuner’s TVS 2650 supercharger, cold air intake, and engine recalibration. After three days living with the high-powered pony, I was impressed with how organic and integrated the modified powertrain feels. On one freeway interchange, I held onto third gear, let the tach wind, and fantasized about driving in NASCAR—it felt more or less appropriate to yell “I’m dropping the hammer!” Days of Thunder Cole Trickle–style. Clutch engagement isn’t overly heavy or aggressive, and a cheerful red knob with white lettering, available as a $95 extra, adorned the shifter in our test car.

When it was time to put the power down off the freeway, where the Roush will cruise comfortably in sixth gear, I headed to the twisting tarmac of Angeles Crest Highway, and the car delivered there, too. The company’s own forged 20-inch wheels, an option for $1,399, are wrapped in aggressive Continental ExtremeContact tires, and the Mustang hangs on tight whether under hard acceleration or fully loaded in corners. Our test car has Roush’s $1,899 three-way adjustable coil-over dampers, and they allow you to select as much—or as little—drama as you dare.

It’s hard to beat big V-8 power and torque on roads like that, or even in traffic. Lane changes and dives into holes between cars are a just quick flex of the ankle away. There is a downside to having all that might: poor fuel economy. While most people opting for a 700-hp super-Stang aren’t concerned with mpg, it is somewhat annoying to have to fill up every 200 miles or so, or even less if you’re doing heavy amounts of city driving. Roush also won’t talk top-speed and acceleration capabilities; while the Stage 3 certainly pulls hard, it would be nice to have some official quantification of its abilities.

Thunderstruck

Our car had the optional performance quad exhaust, and it’s totally worth the $1,045 buy-in. Under full-throttle acceleration, the sound is so deliciously ferocious it would be pretty easy to mistake it as coming from a much more exotic car; every time I approached a tunnel, I switched the exhaust to track mode, downshifted, and matted the throttle. Best tunnel pulls ever. Yet, as with the suspension, you can dial back the exhaust’s aggression. Given our car was painted a beautiful shade of Ruby Red that seemed likely to bait cops all on its own, I thought it prudent to pipe down on occasion.

The interior of our example was equipped with Roush’s silver-stitched leather seats for $1,750, which are supportive and still offer ventilation. Roush adds its own gauge cluster, including a readout for supercharger boost pressure, and, naturally, there are seemingly dozens of Roush badges and logos inside and out.

Getting GT500 power and track-car performance results in a hefty window sticker. The car we drove started as a Mustang GT Premium with Performance Package that ran $48,335 from the factory. The Stage 3 package starts at $22,925, and ours had an additional $6,863 in goodies, making its final price $78,123. This is one pricey pony, and with the GT500 on the horizon, it’s tempting to wait to find out how much that one will run. You can figure it will cost somewhere in this territory, though. If you just can’t wait, know that the Roush does offer a 5-year or 60,000-mile powertrain warranty.

If you want to spend a less and make similar power, Ford Performance offers a Roush supercharger for $7,699, but you won’t have all the other goodies that make the Stage 3 such a well-rounded package. It’s as easy to live with as any other variant of the Mustang GT I’ve driven, and the only thing I’d change are the fake scoops on the quarter windows; being under 30, they have no nostalgia factor for me and basically just make the Mustang’s blind spots even worse. But until the new super Shelby arrives, this remains one of the only ways to go Hellcat hunting for the money, and in a well-sorted package to boot.

2019 Roush Mustang Stage 3 Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $71,260/$78,123 (base/as tested) ENGINE 5.0L supercharged DOHC 32-valve V-8; 710 hp @ 7,250 rpm, 610 lb-ft @ 4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 6-speed manual LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 13/20 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 188.5 x 75.4 x 53.9 in WHEELBASE 107.1 in WEIGHT N/A 0-60 MPH N/A TOP SPEED N/A

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