#but has bigger things to worry about than people's chosen form of address

[viric-dreams]

1812: A sailor takes a routine trip to London, unaware that this would be the last time he'd ever see Flanders. Many lasts were soon to follow.

1861: A boy proudly joins on with the Royal Navy, signing his new name for the very first time. This is a first of many ill-advised decisions.

I can lie and say that the last ES has me thinking about what my characters looked like back on the surface, but it's actually because of a WIP sent to me by an artist I will not name.

[todomitoukei]

English vs. Japanese Mr. Compress (and Dabi) - A 294 Comparison

The past two weeks we have taken a look at the differences between the official English translation and the original Japanese version of Dabi in regards to the newest chapter. This week’s chapter mainly focused on Mr. Compress, so for this comparison, we will look at the two lines Dabi had as well as some of Mr. Compress’ lines and where/how they differ in the two versions.

Did Mr. Compress actually call them a band of egotists or was it another case of lost nuance?

One of the first things that stuck out to me when looking at the Japanese version is that there are six times during this chapter, where Mr. Compress mentions Shigaraki. While in the English translation for this chapter, he either calls him Shigaraki, Tomura, or boss, the Japanese version is pretty consistent.

There is one instance in the chapter, where it just says the Japanese word for boss - namely when he “addresses” Harima in his speech and saying that what Harima couldn’t do, Mr. Compress will “now hand off to my boss”

The Japanese line reads 「俺のボスに任せるよ」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「ボス ; bosu 」-> boss

「に ; ni 」-> to

「任せる ; makaseru 」-> to entrust to another; to rely fully on one’s full strength/great ability to get something done

「よ; yo 」-> sentence ending particle for emphasis

= “I will hand entrust it to my boss.”

Meanwhile, the other five times he mentions Shigaraki it’s always done like here when he says that Shigaraki is the key:

The line reads 「死柄木(ボス)が。。。鍵だ。。。！」

「死柄木 ; shigaraki 」-> Shigaraki

「ボス ; bosu 」-> boss

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「鍵 ; kagi 」-> key

「だ ; da 」-> to be; is

= “Shigaraki is the key.”

You may have noticed, I put bosu in brackets. The reason for that is that the bosu is what the furigana say, even though the Kanji are read as Shigaraki.

As mentioned before, when the furigana differ from how the kanji are actually read, the furigana represent what the character says, whereas the kanji represent what the character actually means. In the case of Mr. Compress, he always says boss when talking about Shigaraki during this chapter, however, except for that one exception, we’re being shown that the meaning behind boss is Shigaraki. It’s interesting because he could just refer to him as boss all the time and we would know that he means Shigaraki, so there isn’t a need to specify the meaning with kanji. To me, this reads as a way to show that while he might use the term boss, Shigaraki he isn’t just his boss. First and foremost, he is Shigaraki, the person.

After first bringing up Shigaraki, Mr. Compress says: 

“Told us to run amok, right?!”

The Japanese line reads「皆揃ってさァ暴れましょうってこったろ！？」

「皆 ; minna 」-> everyone

「揃って ; sorotte 」-> all together

「さァ ; saa 」-> expresses the speaker’s intent to get the listener to (like “come on”)

「暴れましょう ; abaremashou 」-> to act violently; to rage, to be riotous (polite volitional form of 暴れる, abareru)

「って ; tte 」-> you said (casual quoting particle)

「こったろ ; kottaro 」-> (casual form of ことだろう) indicates that the speaker is very emotional

= “You told everyone that we should all be riotous together!”

There are two key points in regards to that part. The first one being that nuance of kottaro. That expression conveys a sense of deep emotion, so for this sentence, it shows us that he isn’t simply recalling that Shigaraki brought them together and wanted them to be violent. Rather, his inner monologue is him being desperate - worried about Shigaraki and trying to remind himself that they are currently in the midst of what they set out to do. But they’re not finished, so this is no time to give up. In a way, it’s a way to remind and motivate himself to keep going despite their current situation.

The other point is the word abaremashou. The “to run amok” phrasing in the official translation is… not that great, in my opinion. The general definition of this is someone that behaves in a violent or uncontrolled way. And yes, in essence, they are being violent. But it’s not exactly uncontrolled. The word “riotous” captures their goals a lot better considering they all have a bigger goal they are trying to reach. It’s not just being violent for the sake of violence, but rioting against a system that has denied them thus far.

Shortly after, we get this line:

“It’s just as our associate Spinner says.”

I’ve briefly talked about this already in a separate post because that word associate bothered me right away when I read the official translation.

The Japanese line reads 「スピナーの仰る通りだまだ何も」

「スピナー ; supinaa 」-> Spinner

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「仰る通り」-> it is as someone says (honorific)

「だ」-> to be; is 

「まだ ; mada 」-> yet

「何も ; nanimo 」-> nothing

= “It’s just as Spinner says; nothing yet.”

Notice how none of those words mean associate? Reading that in the official translation felt so stiff. We know - through various instances - that the League is close. Mr. Compress even later on in this chapter literally says that he loves the League. Associate feels like they are just business partners. I can kind of understand trying to make that capture Mr. Compress’ overall personality, but he literally just doesn’t say that, hence it just feels like another biased translation instead.

Just as a side note, I would also like to mention that this man really mixes the language as he pleases. Like most characters in manga/anime, he generally uses the casual way of speaking and yet he sometimes peppers in polite/honorific words, too? A real entertainer indeed...

Next, we got this line「俺。。。敵連っ。。。合好きだったぜ」

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「敵連合 ; viran rengou 」-> League of Villains

「好きだった ; sukidatta」-> loved

「ぜ ; ze 」-> ending particle for emphasis (more casual/ruder version of yo)

= “I really loved the League!”

Yes, even the official translation got this one right. The main difference between the fan translation and the official translation is the “really” which I also included here. Although that word isn’t technically in the Japanese line, the ending particle does emphasize the line and with that, the word “really” captures that emphasis the best in English.

There isn’t much to say about this line other than that it’s nice to have him say this so directly and also how sad it is that he is saying this in the past tense and thus signaling to us that he does not expect himself to survive this.

After this we got the lines that really didn’t sound great in the official translation:

“A collection of warped minds who never bothered prying into each other’s pasts. Just a band of egotists.”

The fan translation on the other hand had told us this line says: “No matter who it was, one’s past never came into question, we were just a group of deviants. This was quite the unruly bunch.”

So which one is more accurate?

The Japanese line says 「誰も過去を詮索したりしなかった。歪んだ奴ばかりで。手前勝手な集まりだった。」

「誰も ; daremo 」-> no one

「過去 ; kako 」-> past (i.e. a personal history one would prefer to remain a secret)

「を」-> direct object marker

「詮索 」-> inquiry into; prying into

「したりしなかった ; sensakushitari shinakatta 」-> very strong never, kind of like “would never do that, no matter what” (attaches to the word that came before)

「歪んだ ; yuganda 」-> warped (past tense of 歪む, yugamu)

「奴 ; yatsu 」-> fellow (derogatory)

「ばかりで ; bakari de」-> only (in regards to the word that came before)

「手前勝手な ; temaegatte na 」-> self-centered; selfish (see explanation below)

「集まり ; atsumari 」-> gathering

「だった ; datta 」-> was

= “No one would ever pry into each other’s personal past. It was a selfish gathering of only warped fellows.”

I’ve seen a lot of people who voiced their dislike towards the use of the word selfish or egotists, when the fan translation was relatively harmless with the term “unruly bunch” and in a way, rightfully so. Yes, I translated it as selfish, too, but it’s a nuance that’s hard to put into a few words.

If you were to look up the word selfish in a dictionary, you would get many results, but temaegatte isn’t the top result. When you directly look up temaegatte you will see that it’s not considered a common word, either. So this word was chosen for a reason.

Temaegatte in itself is a combination of the words 手前 (temae) and 勝手 (katte), both of which have their own separate meanings.

Temae consists of the kanji hand + in front of and means before oneself; in front of one; nearby.

Katte consists of the kanji victory + hand and has two meanings: something convenient; to act in a way that is convenient for oneself, without considering others.

When you combine those two words together, you have a word that refers to behavior that is convenient only for oneself - “nearby convenience” if you want to be literal. This word can get used in the business world in response to being asked to do something when you want to decline. Instead of bluntly saying that you can’t do it, you would essentially apologize for being so selfish as to not accept the person’s request. It’s a soft way to decline something whilst simultaneously acknowledging the other person’s feelings etc. At the same time, the word can also be used when you are the one making a request and you want to apologize for being selfish for doing so.

Temaegatte is an adjective that connects to the word that follows, which is atsumari (gathering) - put together a “selfish gathering” but what does that mean?

Them getting together as the League of Villains was the result of them all having parted from society to put themselves first. They became villains for their own convenience, not necessarily out of selfishness, but rather because they are doing this for themselves, to put themselves first, without considering others. It might sound similar, but selfishness is more defined as being exclusively concerned with oneself. And an egotist is someone who talks too much about themselves or someone who has an exaggerated sense of self. There is a difference between being selfish/ an egotist and putting yourself first. Instead of just following society and suffering because of it, these people have decided to stand up for themselves and fight back against a system that has been against them for their entire lives.

So yes, you can translate it as selfish - but that only scratches the surfaces of what is actually being said.

This chapter felt a lot like Mr. Compress confirming that the League is actually close and caring about one another. Another panel that captures that, happens a little later in the chapter:

The Japanese line says 「解放戦線。。。敵連合の死柄木が」

「解放戦線 ; kaihousensen 」-> Liberation Front

「敵連合 ; viran rengou 」-> League of Villains

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「死柄木 ; shigaraki 」-> Shigaraki

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

= “The Liberation Front’s… League of Villains’ Shigaraki.”

Funnily enough, the official translation did a really good job by translating this as “The Paranormal Liberation Front’s… the League of Villains’ Shigaraki…” -

which highlights it a lot more that Mr. Compress is correcting himself here. Though officially they still are the Paranormal Liberation Front, in their hearts they will always be the League. Interestingly, here, the furigana also say Shigaraki, so this time around he legitimately says Shigaraki instead of boss, which adds another nice, personal touch to the line and describes Shigaraki as a member - much like the rest of them - rather than dividing them by hierarchy. He might be their leader, but at the end of the day, they are all equals, too.

This chapter was definitely really good in showing that very real bond of the League and the fact they genuinely care about each other. Meanwhile, the official translation misses that nuance by just writing them off as egotists and associates, when they are actually a group of outcasts that have found a home with each other.

Before we end this comparison, I just want to quickly mention that short Dabi part of the chapter, too.

Starting with this panel:

which says「ごめん焦凍事情が変わった。」

「ごめん ; gomen 」-> I’m sorry

「焦凍 ; shouto 」-> Shouto

「事情 ; jijou 」-> circumstances

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「変わった ; kawatta 」-> changed

= “Sorry Shouto, the circumstances changed.”

And then this panel:

which says「轟炎司がまだ壊れてない上に気絶しちまったらこのショーの意味がないごめんな最高傑作」

「轟炎司 ; todoroki enji 」-> Todoroki Enji

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「まだ ; mada 」-> (not) yet

「壊れてない ; kowaretenai 」-> to not be broken

「上に ; ue ni」-> as well; in addition to; besides

「気絶 ; kizetsu 」-> faint

「しちまったら 」-> combination of しちまった (to happen completely) + たら (when) = when something happened completely (focuses on the results that come from this first part)

「この ; kono 」-> this

「ショー ; shoo」-> show

「の ; no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

「意味 ; imi 」-> meaning

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「ない ; nai 」-> nonexistent

「ごめんな ; gomen na」-> I’m sorry

「最高傑作 ; saikoukessaku 」-> masterpiece

= “When Enji Todoroki is not yet completely broken and has fainted, this show has no meaning. Sorry, masterpiece.”

This isn’t exactly different from the official translation, but it’s once again emphasizing the fact that Dabi doesn’t care about killing Shouto, the person, he only cares about doing whatever it takes to ruin Endeavor. And killing his masterpiece seems like the perfect way to hit right where it hurts. I know there are a lot of people that are upset that Dabi is willing to hurt Shouto, and again I can only repeat myself in saying that there are years of psychological issues that have led some part of Dabi to view the idea of killing his own brother as okay. But it’s also a place he can’t just get out of himself, so instead of just blaming him for being at the point he is right now, we should hope that the story will let him heal.

What’s important is that he doesn’t hold a personal grudge against him. Sure, there might be jealousy involved, yet his reason for considering harming Shouto is purely because of Endeavor. With that, Shouto still stands a chance at somehow being able to get to Dabi and help him - after his arc, of course.

Anyway, to sum this up: I continue remaining hopeful in terms of Dabi and Shouto. The League cares about each other, even if that wasn’t their original reason for getting together. They are now at a point where they are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure each other’s safety. Hopefully, and I cannot stress enough how hopeful we have to be, they will all make it out of there now and not suffer any more deaths in their little group.

[salemsbones]

Lonely Stars- Chapter 1

TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety attack, self doubt

Age 11      The train station was flooded with people, Muggles rushing to catch that last minute train to wherever they were going. There was the screech of the train tracks, shouts of people talking to their friends and the croaky metallic voice of the intercom, announcing that train 31B will soon be departing, but all I could hear was the harsh slap of my Mother's heels against the concrete pavement as her, my twin brother Regulus and I walked closer to platform 9 3/4.      I kept a tight grip on my trolley that contained all of my belongings that were coming with me for the next few months that I attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There was a lump in my throat that became bigger and bigger as the three of us neared the platform that would transport us to where the Hogwarts Express would be. The sound of my Mother's heels slowed as we reached the platform; she turned to me and gestured towards the large brick wall labelled 9 and 10 on each side,      "Well go on Aurelia, we don't have all day." My Mother said impatiently, jerking her head to the wall yet again. My white knuckled hands grew sweaty around the trolley, the lump in my throat making it close so words were hard to form. My Mother scoffed at me, rolling her eyes. "Follow me."      Without looking bad at me or my brother, she walked straight forward at the wall and then simply walked straight through it as if the brick wall only merely mist. This was how my Mother, Walburga Black, always acted; always addressing me or my siblings as if we were dumb play things she could dress up when she needed the family to present a certain way. She was never helpful, instead acting as if the challenge or problem one of use faced was the simplest thing in the world. She was in ways better than my Father, Orion Black, who had chosen not to see Regulus and I off at all.      I look back at my twin brother Regulus who stood behind me. His grey eyes flashed as he smiled a reassuring smile at me, "Go on, I'll be right behind you." I looked back at the looming brick wall and swallowed hard, the lump in my throat only growing bigger by the second. Taking a shaky breath, I started walking towards the platform wall with the same speed and confidence my Mother had, although my confidence was fake. I had seen my older brother Sirius and my Father do this twice now, each time in September as Sirius leaved for another year at his school, only occassionally returning during the holidays or sending owls to name all the stories he had while attending Hogwarts; but watching was very different from doing it. As I neared the wall I braced myself, closing my eyes tight, preparing for the wall to be hard bricks rather than the mist my Mother easily floated through, but before I knew it, I had crossed the barrier and I was now on Platform 9 3/4.      "There you are, where's your brother?" My Mother said condescendingly, watching my brother quickly follow me through the platform barrier much braver than I had been. Quickly, my Mother began walking down the platform, away from the many parents and their children saying goodbye or boarding the train. As we walked farther down the platform, the loud voices began to quiet  and people began to be more spread out. My Mother's heels had resumed their deafening click against the concrete again, almost as reprimanding as her voice as she spoke, "Remember, I expect both of you to make the  Black family proud this year."      "Yes Mother." Regulus and I said in unison, used to her tormenting tone and passive threats she has given us throughout the years.      We stood in silence for several minutes, Regulus and I standing side by side, my pinky finger wrapped around his in a silent promise that he is right there with me, not going anywhere. I looked around the platform, noticing the shiny exterior of the cherry red Hogwarts Express, or the hundreds of children hugging their parents goodbye, promising to write to them often so they won't get homesick.         Then I notice a familiar dark haired figure, he was tall, much taller than I was, his thick black hair that brushed his red and black plaid flannel shirt delicately, that crooked smile he wore that made his grey eyes gleam bright: my older brother Sirius. Although I had only seen my brother just two weeks ago, I missed him terribly, he had decided to stay with his best friend James Potter and his family for the last few weeks of summer after yet another argument with our parents.      It seemed as I wasn't the only person who had noticed my older brother and the Potter family standing a bit farther down the platform, Regulus twitched his hand that held into mine, refocusing my attention to him and my Mother, who was muttering harsh words about blood traitors and dishonor. The train blew its whistle long and loud, signalling for Regulus and I to finally board the train car that would bring us to our new school, I untwist my finger from Regulus' and remove my luggage from the trolley, I had been told it would be waiting for me when I arrived at Hogwarts and wouldn't have to worry about it until then.      "Goodbye Mother," I said quietly, giving her a small nervous smile. She looks down at me and gives a quick nod as a goodbye.      "See you at Christmas Mother," Regulus said before wrapping his pinky around mine again and leading me onto the train.                                                                <>      It had been Regulus who noticed my symptoms and quickly fled the carriage we were sitting in, bolting down the hallway. I was sitting still staring out the window, feeling my hands shake, my lungs compress and heat beat thud like a drum. The lump in my throat had only gotten worse, it seemed to travel down to my lungs, making breathing incredibly difficult, making my mind race thinking about how if I couldn't breathe then I would die, or if I died this early in life I would disappoint my Mother and Father and be just another disgrace with my face burned off the family tree. It wasn't until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder that my thoughts started to cease, turning my head I was met with my brother's stormy grey eyes.      "You alright Lia? Reg said you're not feeling too good right now," Sirius says, kneeling in front of me and taking my hand in his.      "What if I don't get into Slytherin?" I say quietly, tears flooded my eyes.      "So what? I didn't get into Slytherin," Sirius smiles, wiping away some tears with the sleeve of his soft flannel shirt.      "Mother said to make the family proud, but what if I don't make them proud Siri? I don't want to disappoint them! I can't! They will hate me and then-" I start to stammer only to be cut off my Sirius.      "Hey hey. Listen to me. I didn't get into Slytherin, and sure Mom and Dad aren't happy with it, but they can't do anything about it. So even if you're not in Slytherin, you can keep me company and we'll be disappointments together," He smiled, making me give him a small smile in return.      "Promise?"      "Of course Lia,"

[thoughtfulpaperback]

CHARMED EPISODE 03X05 SPOILER REVIEW!!!!!

Okay absolutely loved this episode. Can I just say I was afraid that we wouldn't get to see much of Jordan outside of Maggie and I really like that they are developing him outside of romantic relationships. Anyways, I enjoyed the theme of "you do you" which as the show shows is a lot easier said than done, but ultimately satisfying (although not without consequences IRL). The episode was entertaining, and although not really giving much on lore or this mystery (where these monsters coming from?!?), it still did a fun play on mythology like the Medusa episode of season 1. Solid 8/10. No real complaints.

So instead of dislikes i will do possible theories and worries.

WORRIES

The pattern, in my opinion, is that Charmed seasons tend to start of strong, get sloppy and lazy in the middle with the occasional gem episodes towards the end. I always like the first episodes of a new season i am worried that the Charmed writers haven't really upped thier game especially with the uncomfortable "suffering as protest" idea that went on further than "look! the abuser/bully is changing see! Awesome story!".

Just in my opinion though. I feel about as comfortable with that as last seasons handling of suicide. But it just makes me worry about how the writers will continue the storylines.

POSSIBLE THEORIES

1) the poisoning of the magic tree caused these ancient creatures to arise.

I hope they don't go this route because I personally couldn't see how the death of all magic could bring about ancient magical creatures, but hey as long as they actually explain it maybe I'd buy it.

2) Abby is behind it (fully or partly)

The end of season 2 (officially not the epsiode they had to leave off on) Abby seems to have reunited with her demon face and seemed to be ready for some mischief. We could be looking at a number of situations such as

Abby being the full on villian

Abby having unleased the evil but then taking it back and joining the Charmed ones to fix it.

Or if she isn't behind it (and CoVId and scheduling allow Poppy to return) we could get a she joins the villian later or joins the good guys in response to the threat.

3) they are not going to explain it but we will finish off this threat by mid season

If they do continue as the writers have done in the past seasons. We should expect an other villian or a bigger bad/mastermind to show up sometime mid season or after it. Right now the monsters are an issue not the big bad so we could expect to see a reveal of a villian within the next few episodes and the wrapped up for what should have been season 3s mid season and then get ready for another threat.

LIKES

1) Jordan's screen times and struggles

Already mentioned in the beginning, but I can't get enough of this. This is where the Reboot surpasses the OG as far as developing side characters. I will always say OG did Darryl (Morris) dirty and I wished to see more of him in a different compacity other than unfortunate collateral. Keeping Jordan around to help with the magic world, but also showing his own struggles in the real world, briefly and without blinding him or having him almost die, healed my soul.

Plus I identify so heavily with that situation, trying to fit in when you will be the only non white/not-part-of-the-club person around, and I love his simple act of expression was not wearing a tie. I think some people forget that clothing, hair, and other outward expressions of self and culture can be thier own form of disruption and attempt at change.

2) Macy Inheriting Safe Space.

Now on one hand I was really confused. When the hell did Julian have time to update his will?!?! That crap has to be notarized and everything.

I do think the smarter thing would be to retain ownership but create a better position (with a bump in salary) for swan to take charge of all that other stuff which could get in the way of focusing on solving all these dang magical mysteries.

But I have chosen to ignore that for my sanity. I like that It's a convenient plot add in for the Power of 4 to own safespace and keep the tree safe. And I think in a small way it it is a call back to Piper who in becoming the oldest ends up in a career of Club owning although her OG career as Chief was different from that. So I dont mind putting that on Macy as long as she still keeps the science up.

I do think it would have been smart of Macy created a better paying position for Swan that put her in charge of all the other inconvient aspects of the business which get in the way of solving those dang magical mysteries.

3) Addressing the age criticism

Now I think the age criticism is and always will be crap in the case of Hacy, but I do like that they bring it up in away that allowed for more Jordan/Harry bonding. In the end they said the same thing many of us have: "It's Macy's choice! And his knowledge because of his life experience is not a deterrent to attraction or even power dynamics."

EPISODE HIGHLIGHTS

Maggie hiting me with those dance moves

Maggie and the struggle to find a research topic

Mel commenting on Harry's age

Julie calling Omon handsome

Give me that greek mythology reference!

Everyone sticking it to society/hierarchical structures/self-doubt

[aspoonofsugar]

Statements like "think for yourself, a little" or " an undoubting slave who only ever followed orders". These are such problematic statments for mikasa's character that I am worried whether isyama will be able to address them properly. Eren calling mikasa a slave, can't be justified in any way. She has to kill him because slaves are freed only by killing their masters. Why he did that doesn't matter because his words can't be taken back. Idk what yams is doing with mikasa...

Is it even remotely possible for eren to find the scarf? I find the theories of lousie being a yeagerist means eren will get the scarf through her or something totally ridiculous. Putting aside my own biases, logically it doesn’t seem plausible because eren is far outside the walls. How on earth could lousie end in his way? And why would mikasa take it back when she left it herself. Her taking it back after talking to eren might make some sense but not now right?            

Hello anons!

These asks can be answered together.

As  both @hamliet and @linkspooky said here and here Armin’s anger this chapter had nothing to do with Mikasa and all to do with himself. Eren as well is clearly lying when he says he hates Mikasa and the whole argument about Ackermans being slaves makes no sense when compared with past information about how the clan’s powers work. These two lines are nonetheless important for Mikasa’s character because the story is clearly asking her to become more independent. She must stop following others and become a person who leads.

Mikasa is one of the strongest people in the manga and she has been shown to be able to inspire others. What is more, she is also the descendant of the leader of an important clan in another country. This grants her the chance to build connections with said country. However, so far she has not properly capitalized on these abilities because all in all what Mikasa wants is simply to be with her loved ones. This is not wrong, but the current situation is asking her to focus on the bigger issue. This is also why she is refused support by her two most important people. It is not really that she acted in a way which wronged them (If anything it is the other way around), but the point is that she can’t keep tricking herself into thinking they will come up with the right answer.

It is also interesting that in both their explosions of anger Eren and Armin claim to be defending two things which have always been two of their most celebrated strong points. As a matter of fact Eren’s love for freedom is what made him so inspiring to others (but interestingly not to Mikasa), while Armin’s ability to see the bigger picture is what he has always been praised for. However, in chapter 112 and in this chapter Eren and Armin sound hypocritical. Eren talks of freedom and treats his two best friends as prisoners, while Armin talks about the bigger picture, but ignores the elephant in the room Eren is.

In short, both Eren and Armin lash out on Mikasa as a consequence of the struggle they are currently going through and this as a result has consequences on Mikasa’s arc as well. This is natural because Mikasa is a character who is mostly focused on her loved ones and who has built a support group despite the tragedy she faced twice as a child. However, now that this support is in a crisis she will need to step up and to become more active herself.

In short, Mikasa is no slave and she has never been. She has chosen to protect Eren up until now of her own free will and she will choose to enter in a conflict with him on her own free will as well. She has literally nothing to prove to him because she was no slave of him to begin with and this is something Eren himself deep down knows. If Mikasa will kill Eren it won’t be to free herself, but because a result of her freedom. As a matter of fact one of the main point explored by snk is that freedom is painful and scary. Freedom is choosing for yourself even when you literally have no way of knowing if your choice will have good or bad consequences. Freedom is choosing something even when there are apparently no good choices. It is not by chance that at the beginning of the story we have a peaceful, but stagnant world inside of the walls and a savage, dangerous world which is also rich of possibilities outside. The point of freedom is that it is not something one reaches, but something they exercise through their choices. In Mikasa’s case her free will will lead her to reach a specific conclusion about Eren and this conclusion won’t be decided by what Eren said in a speech made so that he could hurt her. It will be decided by Mikasa thinking about who Eren has been and is to her and also about the consequences Eren’s actions will have on the world.

This is also why I don’t think the scarf will reach Eren in a roundabout way tbh (other than for the fact Eren is currently in the paths and closed inside the biggest titan ever). It is because in the end the scarf has to do with Mikasa and not with him. Mikasa is the one who chose to put the scarf away temporally and this is symbolic of her starting to look at her relationship with Eren in a more critical way.  This is also why she has to decide what to do with the scarf herself just like she has to choose what to do with Eren by herself. Currently external agents (Luise) has taken the scarf away exactly like external events are preventing her to arrive to a conclusion about her feelings about Eren. It is probable that a confrontation with Luise who is basically a younger version of herself will help her to reach a conclusion about Eren as well.

I also wonder if the scarf in relation to Luise is going to be symbolic of something else. I have been talking again and again of how basically the yeagersists keep talking about offering their hearts, but ironically lack a heart to offer. By that I mean that they took the SC’s ideals without understanding them and they turned them into a superficial ideology.

In Luise’s case, however, the SC’s ideology has a specific meaning:

It is partially what the scarf is to Mikasa. As a matter of fact Mikasa saved Luise like Eren saved Mikasa. Eren gave MIkasa warmth in the shape of the scarf, while Mikasa gave Luise pride and an ideal in the form of the soldiers’ gesture. However, what Luise deeply wants is not really an ideology, but it is a relationship with Mikasa. However, all her attempts so far have failed. In other words, Luise stealing the scarf can very well be seen as a misguided way of expressing her wish for a deeper relationship with Mikasa. At the same time the warmth represented by the scarf is specifically the humanity the yeagersists are currently lacking in their rhetoric and which the old SC had.

In short, it is possible that a confrontation between Mikasa and Luise might make so that Luise acquires this humanity and possibly redeems herself, while Mikasa might realize that she herself has managed to save a person and to inspire her just like Eren did with her.

In short, I don’t think the scarf needs to reach Eren because ultimately he doesn’t need to face a scarf, but Mikasa herself. Having the scarf reach Eren in a roundabout way and having it have some kind of effect on him will simply make Mikasa’s agency useless and since her arc is about agency among other things I don’t think it is going to happen.

Finally I would like to add that as  @momtaku states Mikasa is not really going to retrieve her scarf, but simply passes by and sees that it is not there anymore.

Thank you for the asks!

[lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr]

First Love

demon!yoongi

college student!jimin

3.4K

written for #BFR_FEST on twitter

masterlist

Yoongi was sent to the human realm for a mission. He was given only three rules: observe, report and keep his distance from the humans. It was all going well until the day he met Park Jimin and broke the most important of the three rules.

Yoongi sank down into the chair at his desk. Tonight was the last night he would be sitting there as in just a few hours his superior would be by to pick him up and take him home. Yoongi wasn’t sure whether he was happy about that or not. Of course he didn’t have a choice. He was nowhere near a top tier demon. The only reason he had been chosen for this mission was because of his uncanny resemblance to the humans. Blending in with the rest of them had been no issue for him.

He wasn’t even briefed on what the mission was for. The only rules he had been given were to observe and report. He’d been given a special journal to document everything. No relations with the humans were meant to be made. Interacting was to be kept to a minimum. At the time, the mission had seemed so simple.

Yoongi ran a finger down the spine of his personal log with a small smile. His own personal account of the human world. The one not to be seen by the command. The mission no longer seemed so easy.

With a sigh of resignation, Yoongi quickly jotted down the last of his daily reports. Again, he found himself wondering what they were planning on using these reports for. Were they simply conducting more research? Was this an experiment of some sort? Yoongi wasn’t sure he wanted to know. As long as no harm came to the humans, he didn’t really care.

After finishing, he shut the journal for the last time and grabbed his personal journal to write down his own, unfiltered thoughts. He skimmed through the pages briefly. Some were written neatly and had little doodles along the pages. Other days, his handwriting was rough and sloppy. The words on the page even more so. Yoongi had experienced so many new emotions on this planet. Emotions he hadn’t been aware he could even feel, and it was all due to one certain human. Yoongi had broken the most important rule the command had given him, the day he met Park Jimin.

He smiled softly to himself as the memories flooded his mind and he quickly flipped to the page in which he’d recorded the beginning of it all. Their meeting had been by chance. The friendship that formed had been unexpected.

November 14

I have come to learn over the past two weeks that humans are social creatures, but only with the other humans they know. Not many will interact with strangers on the street. Maintaining distance hasn’t been a problem. At least not until today. Today I met someone who seems different from the rest of the humans. Perhaps a new breed? If so, he is a rare breed indeed.

As I have every morning, I went to the coffee shop across from my apartment. It is small and not many people go in, but they serve the best coffee. Since most humans appear to have a similar routine every morning before they leave for their place of work, I have also made this into my routine. Today however, was a bit different. After paying for and receiving my usual order of a hot Americano and Cinnamon bun, I turned to leave. There was another person standing directly behind me in line. I wasn't expecting such a close encounter and accidentally walked into him, the coffee I had just bought ending up soaked across his white shirt. I apologized profusely, expecting a backlash of angry words. The reaction which I deserved for my inconsiderate actions. Instead, the stranger smiled kindly and bowed his head as if apologizing to me.

“No, no. I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have been standing so closely.” He told me.

I admit I was a bit lost for words. His reaction was unlike any I had ever experienced during my stay in the human world. Not only was his kindness unexpected, but so was his beauty. I had yet to see another human who was as beautiful as this one was. He seemed to have a glowing aura around him. His dark hair was soft and a bit curly, but it held nothing to how soft his gaze was. Those brown eyes were kinder than I had ever seen before.

After a moment of silence, I was still struggling to form words that would have been appropriate. The human broke the silence instead. He shyly apologized once more before asking if he could buy me another coffee as he was now wearing mine. I quickly refused, offering to buy him a drink instead to make up for ruining his shirt. I can still hear the sound of his laughter as he looked down at his once white shirt. In the end, we paid for each other’s coffees and we parted ways. I now regret not asking for his name. I may never see him again but his kindness will never be forgotten.

Yoongi laughed at his own antics. The day had been a memorable one indeed. He skipped ahead a few pages to the 18th which was the next time he had seen Park Jimin.

November 18

I will admit I had begun to lose hope over ever seeing the boy again. Every day I have continued to go back to the small coffee shop as is my routine but he has not returned. Humans are not capable of teleporting, are they? From what I know of them, humans are simple creatures and can not. Yet this boy seems to be an exception.

However today, I was lucky enough to encounter him. He once again came into the coffee shop as I was preparing to leave. He was not alone this time. Two other humans accompanied him. One with light brown, curly hair and the other had bright red. The three of them were laughing together as they approached the counter to order. The two new humans were also quite beautiful, however they held no light to the dark haired boy.

Since he had friends with him, I decided not to approach him. Instead, I chose to observe. Human relationships are intriguing. No two ever seem to be the same. Everyone shows affection in different ways. Some people laughed and hit each other in play, while others liked to hold hands and share a kiss. I wonder if there is a difference between the two? Is one more valuable than the other?

After the three of them had ordered, I watched them take a seat at one of the tables near the window. I overheard bits of their conversation but none of it made much sense. The terms: dance, exam and competition were used often.

Deciding that it was no good to simply sit and watch them drink their coffee, I stood to leave. My movement caught the boy’s attention. He looked directly at me and to my surprise, he seemed to recognize me. He smiled sweetly and offered me a small wave. I returned the smile and politely bowed my head in greeting. Afterwhich I gathered my things and quietly left the coffee shop. My mind was still on the human with the soft eyes, my own eyes glued to my feet as I walked, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I looked back up, I found I was about to cross the street, cars speeding past from both directions.

With a thanks on my lips, I turned toward the one who had just saved my life. I was shocked to find it was the boy from the coffee shop. Worry clouded his eyes as he looked at me and I felt this odd sensation run through my body. A sensation that I have now identified as guilt.

He asked if I was alright and told me to be more careful. I gave him my sincerest thanks but that wasn’t enough to satisfy him. He insisted that I tell him I would be more careful in the future. I gave him my word and it’s a promise I intend to keep.

It was then that I learned his name. Park Jimin. A beautiful name to go with his beautiful features. I gave him the human name I had been assigned and his smile grew bigger, causing his eyes to nearly disappear altogether.

He handed me a small coffee with a shy smile, offering it as a thanks for the other day. I tried to refuse but he insisted. Just then his friends called him back over. I can only hope I see him again, if only to return the favor and buy him the next coffee.

Yoongi smiled fondly at the memory. Who would have known that the dark haired boy from the coffee shop, who had saved his life once, would become such an important person to him? That simple coffee that Jimin had offered, started a sort of coffee war between the two. It became a tradition after a while to have a coffee on hand whenever they saw one another.

It wasn’t long before Yoongi found out that Jimin was a student at the finest dance school in the country. Yoongi had began attending every performance since and he enjoyed every second of it. He now had a full understanding as to why humans enjoyed the art of dance so much.

Their friendship continued to grow stronger and Yoongi found it impossible to hide anything from the younger. He very clearly remembered the day in which he revealed his true identity to Jimin. Considering everything, the younger handled the news rather well.

December 13

Today I decided that I no longer wanted to keep my identity a secret from Jimin. After what he told me yesterday about trusting me with his life, I find it only fair that I do. He deserves to know, as eventually I will have to return home. I can not stay here forever.

After buying Jimin a coffee, since it was my turn to do so, I asked him to sit with me at one of the back tables. We talked about trivial things for a while: school, the upcoming dance competition, the recent drop in temperature, until I finally steered the conversation toward the topic that needed to be addressed. I wasn’t sure how to tell him, as a human mind can be quite delicate at times, so I came right out and told him. Perhaps it was not the best way, but I did not want to confuse him either.

At first he didn’t believe me, claiming that I was making it all up to tease him. Why I would do this still remains a mystery to me. Yet he was determined to believe I was. It took quite a bit of convincing and some physical proof on my end to make him believe. After that, I feared I had lost a friend. Jimin stood abruptly from his seat and without a word, he left the coffee shop.

December 14

I hadn’t seen or heard from Jimin since he left the coffee shop. I was worried I would never see him again when I ran into him on the street on my way to the university. He was holding two coffees in his hands and he silently offered me one. I took it with a small thank you and I’ll admit, it was a bit awkward at first.

I looked at him and asked, “You know I wouldn’t lie to you about this? I just wanted you to know the truth as I will have to return home someday.”

He didn’t respond right away, but when he did his voice was smaller than usual. “So I guess that means we’ll have to make every second we have together count.”

I am not entirely sure as to what he meant by those words, but I am determined to see him smile every time I am with him. This is the only way I know in which to make this all seem easier.

He walked with me the remainder of the way and I attended his dance competition later in the day. I can only hope that this means he has chosen to continue our friendship and that I have ruined it completely.

Yoongi sighed as he continued flipping through the journal. So many memories were made, most of them good. There were a few days where human emotions got in the way of a good day, but Yoongi supposed that’s what came with being friends with humans. He had also grown quite close Jimin’s two other friends over the course of his stay. Hoseok and Jungkook were both dance students as well. The three of them shared an apartment together, though Yoongi had always suspected the two were a bit closer with each other than they were with Jimin. There was something special between them. His suspicions were proven correct when on Christmas Eve, Jungkook finally worked up the courage to ask the older boy out. They’re now happily together in a way they weren’t before. Jimin had explained to Yoongi the difference between a normal friendship and the relationship they now shared. It warmed Yoongi’s heart yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit of jealousy toward them. He too wished to experience that kind of happiness and affection toward another.

Tears sprang to his eyes at the idea. Perhaps if he had just a bit longer here in the human world, he might have had just that. His fingers flipped through the pages slowly until he came across the one dated December 25. Hoseok and Jungkook had gone to spend the day with each other and their families, leaving Yoongi and Jimin to spend the day alone. As Yoongi had no family to go to and Jimin’s family lived too far to visit for the day, they spent the day together. The memory was one that was bittersweet, as it was the day Yoongi realized that the newly found emotions he was feeling were special but they would also one day cause him so much pain.

December 25

Yesterday, Jungkook asked Hoseok to go eat with him at the restaurant down the street. Apparently this has some sort of significance which I still did not understand this morning when they left together to go meet their families. It wasn’t until after they had left that I questioned Jimin about this. He explained to me that there are different kinds of relationships. The kind that Hoseok and Jungkook now had is one that is shared between two people and is considered special. According to Jimin, humans seek out these kinds of relationships with other humans all the time.

We ended up on the couch together as he explained it all to me. As he talked, I slowly began to realize that perhaps these feelings he was describing were not so far off from the ones I felt toward him. I am still not completely sure about it as I have never experienced so many emotions before, but I know that Jimin is someone special to me.

I asked him if he had ever felt these special emotions for another human before. He was hesitant but finally answered with a small shake of his head. He looked at me as he said, “I haven’t. Not with a human at least.”

I don’t know why, but my heart began racing so fast at those his words that I began to worry. Was I alright? Was my human body failing? Was I going to have to return right then and there in order to protect my life? I expressed my concerns to Jimin and he quickly explained that it was simply just another reaction humans had to feeling these emotions. His entire face grew red as he explained it and though I was a bit worried, it was also very cute.

I asked what people with these types of feelings usually did with each other and Jimin explained that there was often a lot of physical contact, such as holding hands. He attempted to explain kissing to me but I quickly let him know that I already knew what that was. He laughed when I explained that it was the act performed when sealing a deal between a human and demon. I do not see what he found to be so humorous about it. When I questioned him about it, he explained that in the human world, kissing is meant as a sweet gesture to express your love for one another. This has been recorded in my official notes. It seemed too important not to include it.

Yoongi paused in his reading. There had been many times he’d wanted to kiss Jimin. Of course he never had. There was no telling what would happen if he did. He supposed if he had enough time, he would have done it eventually. As it was, he was out of time.

Picking up his pen and flipping to the back of the book, Yoongi wrote in one last entry.

January 1

Today I discovered that I am, as the humans call it, in love. Jimin has captured my heart and made me his. If possible I would remain here and experience first hand what happens when this love progresses. As it is, my human body is slowly fading. It was not meant for an extended stay and my time is up. I have told Jimin that my time was running out. We agreed that there would be no tears, but I am worried I won’t be able to follow through with that promise.

Perhaps someday I shall return, but there is no guarantee that I will ever see him again as time travels differently in my own realm.

I have discovered and learned many things throughout my stay here, but the most important is that love is something truly special. It’s an emotion that is felt for many but only those who are truly special receive all of your love, completely unfiltered. Love is the driving force behind humans. Whether that love is platonic or romantic. It’s something not found in the demon realm. I shall miss it sorely. These feelings may disappear as soon as I cross back over and I shall forget all that I have felt here in this world. I may very well forget everything, including Park Jimin. Perhaps I am being selfish but I hope they remain. I don’t want to lose what I have gained here on Earth.

With that last bit of hope, I sign off for the last time. I will leave this journal here with you Jimin in the hopes you will read it and perhaps understand me better as I have come to understand you. I do hope we will meet again someday.

Until then,

Yoongi

Yoongi left the small apartment and shuffled across the street to the little coffee shop for the final time. He placed two orders. When the cups were handed to him, he took a careful sip of the one as he stepped back out into the cold January air. He quickly made his way through town to the campus of Jimin’s school. He knew the younger would be practicing with his group as they had a major competition coming up. He wasn’t planning on it, but his feet led him to the large room he had accompanied Jimin to many times before. His body seemed to move on its own as he quietly swung the door open enough to peer inside. There were around thirty people dancing together, but it was easy to pick out Jimin. His movements were mesmerizing and Yoongi found himself transfixed. This was the last time he would be able to watch Jimin dance. It was something he was truly going to miss, though not anymore than he would miss the boy himself.

Yoongi had to force himself away. He fought back the tears as the door swung shut, closing him off from Jimin. He would keep his promise. He wouldn’t cry. There would be no tears over his departure today. With heavy footsteps, he made his way over to the locker room where he knew Jimin would be going to change after practice. He placed the coffee and journal inside the one marked with the boy’s name.

The silence was interrupted by the subtle rush of wind he felt on his back. Yoongi didn’t need to turn to know his escort had arrived. Not a word was spoken as he quietly allowed them to take him and his weakened body back to his own world, with one last silent promise to return someday.

[ngfics]

Flower Watch

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Flower Watching and Bird Picking

(SIOC as Lily Evans x Augustus Rookwood)

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Story Title: Flower Watching and Bird Picking

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters:  SIOC as Lily Evans, Petunia Evans, Severus Snape, Mr. Evans, Mrs.Evans, Eileen Snape, Tobias Snape, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Mary Mcdonald, Marlene McKinnon, Xenophillius Lovegood, Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Augustus Rookwood,  Vrious Ocs, Hogwarts Professors, Hogwarts students

Relationships:  Lily Evans x Augustus Rookwood, Severus Sname x Christine McDougal, Evan Rosier x Elizaveta Flavius  

Tags: Rawenclaw Lily Evans, SIOC as Lily Evans, a colder take on Lily Evans, does not like James Potter, avoids Marauders, works on maintaining a good relationship with Snape and Petunia, Xenophillius Lovegood and Barty Coruch Jr. as best friends, a Ravenclaw trio, Wizarding Culture, Pureblood culture, delving into depths of this, and using it for her own ends, piano playing, magical music, Wizarding Music, Unspeakables, Wizard inventions, War against Voldemort, Neville Longbottom is the Chosen One, Lily plays both sides for benefits, the Great Muggleborn Mystery, Time Turners, Time Sand, Werevolves, When in the Wizarding World do as the Wizards do

Summary: She was born Lily Evans. Red haired and green eyed. If that didn't tell her just how much crap would be coming her way, nothing would.

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Posts . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21 . 22 . 23 . 24 . 25 . 26 . 27

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Slightly ordered notes and Ideas

SIOC is somewhat depressed to be reincarnated as Lily Evans, she doesn't believe she can be as kind and forgiving as the original. Resolves to do things her own way instead

Works hard on maintaining a good relationship with Petunia, resolves sisterly problems to the best of her ability and due to her mental age she succeeds.

Makes friends with Snape before he knows that she’s a witch and always insist on being his ‘best friend’, lets him know that she doesn’t think of him in a romantic sense, also that she won’t be dating in Hogwarts at all. (she has bigger things to worry about)

Severus eventually gets over it, after a bit of pouting and teenage angst, she helps him, by being understanding as only an adult can

Lily Is actually sorted into Rawenclaw at her own insistence. Wanting a more inconspicuous house.

Makes friends in Hogwarts with Xenophillius Lovegood, Batrimus Crouch Jr., Alice Jones(later Longbottom), Severus Snape,Jonathan Abbott, Sarah Abbott. Later friends with Elizaveta Rosier (nee Flavius) a French dress robe designer.

Meets Barty and Xeno on Hogwarts Express after she and Severus have their tiff with James and Sirius. Barty and Xeno help both her and Severus integrate better into the Wizarding society, after she mentions that she only had three months to prepare for the Wizarding world and apeeals to their sense of pride and superiority.

Barty warms up to her even more once she saves him from a possible detention.

Delving into things like Wizarding wear, dress robes, color choice, design - what is appropriate for her age and station. She gets tonnes of book recommendations that she looks up in the Hogwarts Library and once she remembers in the Room of Requirement.

Doesn't like James Potter at all, not even when he supposedly changes - though she does give him one chance (which he blows) - she doesn't trust him not to revert.

She knows, or rather she is told, that he will become a 'good man', but she does not trust this. Lily is wary of his fickleness, sees the malice in him when he fights with Slytherins. She has no interest in keeping a leash on a childish man when she has so much to deal with, it's not her job to make him a responsible adult

Doesn't run off when Snape calls her a mudblood and keeps defending him unlit marauders leave. Forgives Snape for his words, but tells him that its a problem for her as she can no longer tell when he's lying, compares him to James - which snaps him out of it pretty quickly.

Lily invests in warding her parents home as soon as she feasibly can, but it's for naught as they die in a completely muggle car accident, driving back from visiting Petunia and her Fiance Vernon Dursley

Augustus Rookwood is three years older than Lily, Evan Rosier is two years older than her. Lily has a minor crush on Evan in her fifth year, but doesn’t do anything about it.

Augustus had only heard of Lily while in Hogwarts, but the first time he hears about her and pays attention is from Evan, when they meet during summer after the debacle with Snape, Marauders and Lily, when Rosier tells him of an interesting mudblood

Lily never flinches when addressed as Mudblood, her response, when heckled by snakes as to why she doesn't flinch, why she isn't insulted, is usually 'I care that little for your opinion'

Lily helps Snape get a date with Christine McDougal, they hit it off well.

As a part of Dumbledore's meddling Lily is Head Girl together with James Potter, suffice to say they don't get along well at all. This Lily is much colder than the original. Cold and pragmatic, but warm and caring to her close friends and family.

She ends up getting a job as an Unspeakable where her colleague is Augustus Rookwood. They get into debates over Muggleborns and give eachother something to think about

Her 'day job', as no one can actually say that they work as an Unspeakable (and it's best to have a job away from the ministry if you do work as an Unspeakable, to serve as a cover), is as either a pianist or a cellist

She is very sought after and present at many galas because she's a prodigal musician - was a musician in previous life, not as a job, but recreation

Lily Evans is credited as the maker of what is called 'The Evans Method' in wizarding medicine and 'The flutter' in casual use (this can only be used at MOMs discression, one cannot buy this sand in stores for their own use, but one can petition if their work is too intensive and they find themselves 'needing more time')

As she studied Time in the Department of Mysteries she experimented with time-turner sand and found out how to use it on people (without a container) to slow down their time, thus prolonging their life (this is more used in medicine to slow down diseases so that a cure can be found), or sometimes speeding themselves up and managing to do more in less time.

This is before she and Augustus marry, but while they're in a relationship of sorts, once her discovery is public, Voldemort begins to approve of their relationship, which is a relief to both of them.

At some point Death Eaters start getting caught and Lily, who had been already working on this, trying to make it a beauty product, covers Barty's and Augustus's death eater tattoos with a paste that makes their skin look like it looked in the past and if applied enough can take away years.

Their marks become invisible, she tells no one else of her project and is very happy when explaining that they are lucky she was working on something like this and had not told anybody.

Voldemort is suitably impressed and interested in aquiring such an asset.

After a Death Eater accuses Barty of being a Death Eater, she nearly faints in relief for her thinking ahead and protests that claim saying that at the time Barty was with her helping plan her wedding, she says that Xenophillius Lovegood can confirm because he was there at the time, they call him to confirm and share a pensieve memory

In her third year Lily discovers that Xeno can create extremely believable false memories and mentions how useful that can be so their little trio (Xeno, Barty and Lily) form a pact that Xeno will provide them with alibis.

They are almost caught once because a teacher nearly asks for their memories too - afterwards they find a way around it so that Xeno can share false memories with them as though they are their own (only slightly modified as not everyone remembers everything the same - they hear different things if they walk past a place at a different time for example)

This is later used for Barty's alibi

It was very lucky that Lily was sitting in on that court case cause his father might have tossed him to Azkaban without trial or Barty might have done something rash...as he tended to when faced with his father.

The paste cannot be removed by charms or cancelers, or pretty much any spell, but has to be removed by a special oil that Lily herself made (ironically it is an oil made from lily flowers), it cannot be removed, traced or seen as there is, technically, nothing wrong with the person's arm, it is their still their skin...only from the past.

Lily and Augustus have three children together.

Emanuel Rookwood who is Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood's age and twin daughters Iris and Amaryllis Rookwood who are Metamorforgi.

This leads to a revolutionary research by Lily Rookwood as this ability is not hereditary in Rookwood line and, according to some wizarding beliefs, should not be present in a Muggleborn line.

Leading to research conclusion that Muggleborn are there to dilute the blood on purpose, because while pure blood that is rich with magical talent is good of itself it is also limiting.

Because families become specialized in their branch, like herbology and when people with different specialties marry into families there is more likeliness for their abilities to be lost as they fight for dominance and rarely merge together. They even might destroy one another - producing a squib.

It also concludes that metamorphose ability is something likely in pureblood families with some history of dark magic and/or transfiguration specialty when mixed with Muggleborn blood.

Thus presence of Muggleborn is considered to be good and a way to bring back old magical talents that are dying out.

It also concludes that Muggleborn are in fact first generation witches and wizards (as the first witch and wizard would have had to have muggle parents or all muggles are in fact squibs and wizards came first, but had to experiment with whom to breed as some mixing killed magic and magical talents altogether)

With enough generations, a child of a Muggleborn will become a pureblood

Actually...Let’s make the birth of magic a global phenomena, where at some point there were only muggleborns, people born with extraordinary powers that their parent could never hope to have

Some of them married with one another (to preserve the powers) while others married outside to spread them (and children of muggleborns are always magical.)

Intermarrying worked until concentration of magic became too much and lineages started killing each-other off, which would be why the offspring only inherited one talent, because one Parent's gift was overpowering.

While those who married outside, spread their gifts (and their children             are always half-bloods).

Muggleborns, who are either descendants of squibs whose magic had to take generations to harmonize due to conflict, or are first generation witches and wizards because magical population seemed to be falling or needed diluting usually have clean unrestricted magic that allows them to specialize in what they want, rather than just what they're good at.

This also lets their children, should they have them with those of more potent magic, have greater power behind their intent and less inner magical conflict, thus less stabilization through mediation and rituals needed

Lily does this research through the first 6 years ( till she's about 32, Augustus being 35) after her daughters are born and becomes quite famous, gaining her own Chocolate Frog Card.

Her work being published in a book series called 'The Muggleborn' by Lily Rookwood (Published when Lily is 36)

This book becomes famous in all circles of wizarding society , pureblood because they want to hear what a Rookwood says on the topic, muggleborn because they want to hear what a muggleborn says and half-bloods to see where Lily stands.

As a part of Voldemorts orders Lily approaches six werewolf females who had formed their own pack and they join on her behest. This is also meant as a warning to Lily and her family, so they would not think to toe the line.

This backfires on Voldemort as Lily is fast to make friends and allies among the intended targets. Later during the Battle of Hogwarts they defect the moments after LIly does, reminding the surprised at whose behest they joined in the first place.

One of these werewolves is Mary Mcdonald a Muggleborn Mulciber attacked while they were at Hogwarts. Lily rekindles that firendship, offering help and later protection from Voldermort by being under his rule.

She and Mary discuss and laugh about many pureblood traditions and ettiqquette, their motto and inside joke becomes 'When in Rome'

Later in life, maybe after the Battle of Hogwarts even, Lily makes 'The Evans Scholarship' which allows Muggleborns to get apprenticeships for which they are usually overlooked for pureblood candidates.

As Lily managed a Mastery in Potions, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Aritmancy than she is elligable to be a Master and thus she is giving away apprenticeships for all four subjects.

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snippets and drabbles incoming, no beta! you’ve been warned!

POV meanders in some parts, don’t give yourself a headache trying to figure it out. Also! Hints of melodrama, because I sometimes I want to write that hahahaha

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Posts . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21 . 22 . 23 . 24 . 25 . 26 . 27

Fic Masterlist

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[with-galaxies-in-her-veins]

hey, it's ya girl, and i'm back with some more relationship stuff, since apparently relationships are hard, and they suck, but oh well, what can we do, we're a world blinded by the facets of love 

today we’re going to talk about letting go and moving on

yeah, a strange concept, i know. but here’s the thing: sometimes you need to let someone go in order to allow someone new to come into your life. not only will this allow you to heal, recover, or whatever you need at the moment, but it’ll help the other person as well. maybe it's not your intention to "help" them, but if you do this, it'll make you feel so much better, mentally and even physically (as stress and depression take quite the toll on the body). there are a few scenarios i'm going to break down today, and the first one will be: breakups

breakups SUCK, and they're painful, and yeah, you might want to make your ex a sim and burn it in a house fire, but here's the thing: by doing this, you are giving that person headspace, therefore giving them power over you that they don't deserve. in some cases, breakups are mutual, and those are the easiest to get over, because you're not riddled with the guilt of dumping someone, or with the pain of being dumped (raise your hand if you've been here, rip). we're not here to talk about you dumping someone, though, we're here to talk about you being dumped, or, to put it nicer, broken up with. 

i know that it's hard, and i know that it hurts, but trust me - someone better will come along. someone who loves you for you, and will be the perfect missing puzzle piece to your Ravensburger. you, as an individual, are amazing, okay? you have this uniqueness about you that nobody else could even dream of replicating. it doesn't matter that i don't know who'll read this, because every person in the world has that unique spark in them, regardless of who they are. that spark is what makes people fall in love with you, and if they start to realize that they can no longer care for that spark, then it's not your fault. don't try and win back their affections, especially if they've already moved on. i've said this before, and i'll say it again:

"don't chase after someone who wouldn't even think twice about leaving you behind. sure, it might hurt to just block them out, but sometimes it's for the best. after all, if they were willing to just up and leave in the first place, what makes you so sure that they'll stay any longer? sure, it's going to be hard, but you can do this. toxic people are something that you'll run into every day, but it's your choice if you let them poison you or not."

it might seem harsh, but think about it - what would keep them from leaving you again? save yourself the heartache and move on, okay? you've got the whole world in front of you, and i know that you can do infinitely better than some sod who left you.

rejection

rejection. O U C H. since we're all on tumblr, i'm going to use internet rejection as this example. say you meet someone online that you really like. they're funny, sweet, smart, whatever you're into. things are going good, going great, you feel awesome and floaty and almost maybe a little in love, then suddenly, BOOM. bomb is dropped and they ghost you. even if you've never really met in person, you still form this emotional attachment to the person, which makes being rejected by them all the more painful, and that's okay. it's okay to be hurt by someone you've never met before, and it's okay to feel bad. what's not okay is soaking in the feeling and letting it ruin your life. 

another example would be when someone's interested in you, but you keep shutting them down for whatever reason, then they move on and you suddenly feel rejected. yeah, that sucks, but look, you shut them down, right? even though they CLEARLY showed interest in you, regardless of age (this is only okay if you're both legal, obviously), distance, medical issues, sense of humour, etc? so although it's okay to feel sad that they've moved on and are with someone else, it's not okay to play the victim here. it's not fair to the other person, and it's not fair to you. for one, you're better than some petty little anger at not being "the chosen one" anymore, and for another, it'll make the other person feel bad about being happy. so be the bigger person. don't worry, you'll find someone else who loves you, or shows the same amount of interest, if not more. so stand up, stop moping, and try being happy for the other person. if you truly care about them, then you'll want them to be happy, no matter what, right?

moving on

gotta get your move on, boi (or gal, or nonbinary pal, whichever applies to you). i'm not saying "go chase after someone else now," as that's just not healthy. let it happen in your own time, and don't push for a relationship. if it's meant to be, it'll happen, and your manipulating the situation will only cause it to backfire. 

so, onto the methods of moving on for those who don't quite want to move on:

block the person. i mean seriously, just block them, especially if they're only causing you heartache 

practice some self-care methods. journal, draw, create, just do something that'll help you take your mind off of things. bonus points if you love what you're doing 

if you're angry at the person, then make a sim for them and kill it. give it the worst luck possible, the worst life imaginable in the sims. this will act as your outlet of anger, and will prevent you from going off a the person (hopefully). obviously this isn't the most ideal or healthy way of coping and moving on (as i stated earlier), but i must say, it is quite effective. 

write a letter stating what you're feeling. pour your heart out, write a poem, insult them in ancient shakespearean language, just write. it doesn't matter if you don't ever send the letter, email, text, whatever, just compose it, then dispose of it, or save it to re-read later. one method that i suggest is to write down what you're feeling on paper, the rip the paper up into little shreds. if you're in a stable state of mental health, you can even burn it (just be sure not to start any fires!). if you write an email, then address it to a spam email account of yours so that you don't accidentally send it. if you choose to text or dm, type it out to someone else first, in case. if you're feeling particularly brave, you can send this message. the times i've done all of these are innumerable, and each time they've really helped me to sort out how i feel about what went down, even if i never actually sent it.

accept how you feel and let it go. if you're a big visualization fan, then find something to symbolize how you feel about the person (gifts they gave you that you no longer want, pictures, letters, etc. just make sure to take pictures so you don't forget that at one point, they actually did like you), and let it go. all it will be is dust in the wind, particles of the atmosphere being turned into something new. 

wallow. take one day off and just cry. wallow in self-pity. eat a whole pizza to yourself (just kidding, don't do that), watch sappy romance movies, just take the time to feel bad. this one day is the only day where you'll let your emotions fully take over, the only day where you're allowed to feel whatever emotion, as long as you don't act aggressively on those emotions. so grab some kleenex, put on a sad movie, eat some ice cream, and cry. you'll be okay, i promise.

i know that moving on can be quite difficult, and it can be quite painful, no matter how much you try to hide from those feelings. having a support system is so unbelievably important. if you don't feel like you can tell your friends or family, then reach out to someone you feel like you can trust. scream your feelings into the void, if you feel like that's the only way you can rant. just don't wallow in self-pity and make others feel bad for being happy just because you're in a funk. it's not worth it, and frankly, it's just a waste of time. 

you are amazing, beautiful, clever, intelligent, funny, everything that you were meant to be, and nothing, not even a little relationship problems, can take that away from you.

now here's a few questions i have for you: 

how did you feel about your relationship in the beginning? did you have a good or bad feeling? did you think it'd last? did you trust the person? 

sometimes your gut feeling, or your initial feeling, is the one that will be correct in the end. for example, when you start out in a relationship but feel weary, why do you think that is? is it because the person has a history of (insert here), or is it because of a vibe they have? LISTEN TO THAT FEELING, i cannot stress this enough, ahhh 

this is something that'll help you a lot in the future, but at the moment, it'll help keep you safe. that's all i've got for now, and honestly, i can't say i'm the most credible when it comes to relationships, but hey, if this helps you, then that's all that matters :) 

these words of wisdom were brought to you by: things i wish i had heard a few years ago

[phoenix-downer]

Promise

Sora had seen a lot of cool things on his travels, but a portable gaming system? 

Awesome.

He tilted it this way and that, the shiny screen capturing the warm afternoon light of Twilight Town. He couldn’t wait to try out all the games. He wouldn’t even mind if Donald drove the Gummi Ship for a while.

“Oh! There’s another thing you can do.” Pence held out his hand, and Sora gave him the device.

“It’s not just for gaming,” Hayner said. “There’s also a messenger function.”

“A messenger function?”

Sora peered over Pence’s shoulder as he went back to the home screen and touched a bright blue icon with a speech bubble, then started pecking out H-e-y t-h-i-s i-s S-o-r-a. Next he selected the To: box and put in strugglechampion@tt.net and eighthwonderoftheworld@tt.net.

“Hey Olette, what’s your email again?” Pence asked, busily typing away.

“Just my name and age,” Olette said. She shook her head at the other two addresses and grinned. “I still can’t believe you guys chose those as your email addresses.”

“Email addresses?” Sora said, not quite sure he understood.

“It’s like an address for these phones,” Hayner explained. “You need a unique one for people to be able to contact you.”

“I do? What’s mine?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I already made one for you.” Pence hit the send button, and Olette pulled out a similar device… er, phone? Only hers was orange and green instead of red and yellow. She opened up the message to show Sora.

Geez, these things really could do everything. The message said, “Hey, this is Sora,” just like what Pence had typed. The To box had their emails, and the From box said…

“Roxas.” Sora’s heart pounded. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You guys… remember Roxas?”

Could this be a clue? Could they hold the key to bringing back Roxas?

Pence frowned and looked at the phone again. “Oops, I thought I put your name in there. My bad. Don’t know where that came from.”

He moved to correct it, but Sora stopped him. Something felt right about keeping his email as Roxas’s name.

“Roxas,” Hayner said, scratching his cheek. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“It does?” Sora gave his full attention to Hayner. “Do you remember anything about Roxas? Anything at all?”

Hayner stood there for a moment, a slight frown on his face as he thought about Sora’s question. “Not really, no,” he said at last. “Sorry.”

Sora’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, okay.”

It was too good to be true, anyway. No way saving Roxas would be that easy.

But there was one way to make it happen. Dangerous and reckless and stupid, but Sora knew from experience it would work. Xemnas and Ansem’s words from earlier echoed through his mind. “Now, set your heart free!”

I can’t. I can’t do that. If I become a Heartless again, I’ll—

But then he thought of Roxas. Thought of Roxas being forced to give up his existence just so Sora could wake up. Thought of Roxas’s tears and pain. Thought of Roxas’s heart.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Roxas was trapped inside of him like this. He deserved to be his own person.

I have to keep looking. I have to find a way.

And if there is no other way, then—

Olette tugged on one of her twintails, green eyes looking at him with concern. “Sora? Are you okay?”

Sora started. He’d gotten lost in thought again. “Y-yeah. I’m fine, really. Thanks for all the help. These phones are awesome.”

“This… Roxas person,” Olette said, something like recognition flickering through her eyes. “Is he someone you know?”

“He’s… a very good friend. I was just surprised to see his name on there, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay.” Olette frowned, but Sora didn’t know what else to say, really. He could tell them about Roxas, but a part of him wanted them to remember Roxas on their own. If they did, it would be proof that Roxas could exist on his own.

At least, that was what Sora wanted to believe.

“Well, anyway, there are a couple more things we want to show you.” Olette took his phone from Pence and pointed it towards them. “Say cheese, everyone!”

“Wait, it works as a camera, too?”

They all crowded around him and posed, and Olette pressed another one of the buttons. There was a bright flash, and she showed him the picture afterwards.

“Looks good,” she remarked.

The four of them all together again at last. They almost looked matching, with their red and black and plaid. Too bad Roxas wasn’t included. Or at least not directly.

Does it count as a picture of him too if he’s inside my heart right now?

“I’m gonna set it as your wallpaper, okay?” Olette asked, busily typing away.

“Wallpaper?” Sora thought of his room back home and the wallpaper plastered on the wall. Surely Olette meant something different.

“Like a background for your phone,” Pence explained. “It can be a picture of anything, really. Friends, family, things you like...”

“Yup,” Olette said. “Oh, and one last thing: you can call people on here, too.”

“I already set you up so that we’re number one on your speed dial,” Pence said, giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah, feel free to call us anytime,” Hayner said. “We’ll be happy to help however we can.”

“Here, this is how you put in new numbers.” Olette showed him the basics. “I asked Donald to enchant your phone, so it should work for people off world, too.” She tapped her temple. “Hmmm, is there anyone whose number you want to call? A friend?” She gave him a sly look. “A girlfriend?”

“G-girlfriend?!” Sora sputtered, the heat rising in his cheeks. “I don’t have a—”

Olette just made a clucking noise and Hayner and Pence snickered. “Sure you don’t. But luckily for you, I have her number.” She typed in a string of numbers and showed Sora. “Donald and Goofy are great at getting me the information I need.”

“Kairi has a phone?” Sora asked. He had no idea. Had she gotten one since he’d last seen her?

“So you admit it.” Hayner grinned and Sora knew it was pointless to protest.

What were he and Kairi exactly, anyway? His mind went to the cave drawing and its newest addition: the paopu fruit someone—

You know it was Kairi—

—had drawn Kairi giving to him. The paopu fruit that was bigger than the one he had drawn for her. Like she wanted to prove how much she cared. Just thinking about it made him feel all warm and tingly inside.

“You haven’t asked her out yet, have you?” Olette said with a sigh, her eyes drooping. “Sheesh, Sora, after everything the two of you have been through, you’d think—”

“Everyone’s counting on me,” Sora shot back, a tad defensively. “I had to leave. I couldn’t just—”

“You could have contacted her,” Olette said. “She misses you.”

Sora was taken aback. “She does?”

Pence nodded. “She came to visit us, not too long ago.”

“Yeah,” Hayner added. “Said she was going to start training soon and—”

“Hang on, what?!” Sora said. This was all news to him. “She’s training now?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Olette handed him the phone. Just a second too late he realized it was already ringing.

And yikes, could Olette have made Kairi’s name in his phone any more embarrassing? Sweetie Pie was emblazoned across the screen in bold pink letters.

He couldn’t hang up now. She would notice if he did.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

After seven agonizing rings as Hayner, Pence, and Olette watched his face get more and more red, it finally stopped. There was a click, and Kairi’s voice came on on the other side.

“Hey, this is Kairi—”

“Um, hey, Kairi, I—”

“If you’re hearing this message, it means I’m busy right now. Probably because I’m kicking Axel’s butt in practice, so if you could just leave your name and number, I’ll be sure to get back to you. Bye!”

There was another loud beep, but Sora just held the phone to his ear.

Training? With Axel? With the man who had kidnapped her?

He didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. Sure, Axel had saved him, Axel had even apologized to him, but he’d never apologized to Kairi for what he’d done.

And now they were training together? Whose idea was that?

Oops. Olette was gesturing frantically, and he realized he hadn’t left a message. He cleared his throat, not really sure what to say.

“Um, hey, Kairi. This is Sora. The Twilight Town gang gave me this cool portable phone… game… thing, and they have your number somehow. Crazy how we can call each other across worlds, right? Anyway, I just wanted to say…”

He thought of her smile, thought of how nice it had felt to hold her in his arms when they were reunited, how just holding her hand was enough to make him feel all warm inside.

Without her here something inside of him ached. Almost like there was an empty spot where she was supposed to be.

He clutched the phone more tightly. “I-I miss you—”

At this Olette squealed, and Sora felt his face getting hotter. “...a-anyway, hope to see you again soon. Um, call me back when you get the chance. Bye.”

He hung up the phone, his heart sinking. He really did miss her, and a part of him had kinda hoped he could be the one to show her the ropes when it came to handling her Keyblade.

It didn’t feel like he’d been gone all that long this time around, but she wasn’t waiting for him back home anymore. There was something hollow and empty about that thought. Home just wasn’t home without her.

She promised. She promised she’d wait for me.

No she didn’t. All she said was “See you soon.” She didn’t say where.

I guess.

But he couldn’t stop the gnawing thought from forming in the back of his mind.

I’ve made her wait too long. She got tired of waiting for me and decided to leave the islands. She’s got friends of her own on other worlds, and now she’s training with Axel. What does she even need me for? Someone like her could do a lot better than a guy like me.

“Sora? Everything okay?” Hayner asked.

Sora tucked the phone into his pocket. “Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just miss her is all.”

But then the phone started ringing. And Olette had chosen the loudest, most obnoxious love song in the history of obnoxious love songs for Kairi’s number. Sora was so embarrassed he nearly dropped the phone as he fumbled to answer the call, much to his friends’ amusement. He didn’t even know he could set songs to people’s numbers like that, let alone play music from his phone.

“K-Kairi?” he said, flustered.

“Hey.” Her familiar voice made him feel all warm inside. “Good to hear your voice.”

Sora’s heart pounded. She likes hearing my voice? He felt giddy at the thought.

“Um, did you get my message?” he finally managed to say.

She giggled, and he realized how much he’d missed her giggle, too. “Yeah. Sure took your time figuring out what to say though, didn’t you?”

“Oh, sorry about that. I was, um, distracted.”

“Distracted?” Her voice was tinged with worry. “Hope it wasn’t because you had a bunch of Heartless to fight.”

“No, I just… I mean… technology these days is really something,” he said, walking away from his friends for a little privacy. Or at least the illusion of privacy. “Everyone on the islands has a phone in their houses, but portable phones are something new.”

“Yeah, I just got mine recently, too. Ienzo made one for me.”

“Ienzo?” Sora didn’t think he’d ever heard that name before.

There was a pause on the other line. “Sora, I think you and Riku might know him. He said when he was a Nobody, he went by Zexion. He was a member of Organization XIII.”

Sora nearly dropped the phone again. “He was?” He racked his brains for a Zexion. But nothing came to mind. Surely he would remember if he’d fought him.

Hold on. He didn't remember him, but Roxas did. He accessed Roxas's memories and could picture Zexion's face. He'd had high expectations of Roxas on their missions together, but he was fair and helpful and explained things clearly.

Sora wondered what had happened to him. All Roxas knew was that he'd disappeared at Castle Oblivion.

“Yeah, but he’s human again,” came Kairi’s voice, interrupting his thoughts. “He’s a brilliant researcher, and he’s been helping the Restoration Committee do work at the castle. I know you’ll probably be reluctant to, but… I feel like we can trust him.”

Sora tried to ignore the fact that Kairi had complimented this Ienzo guy.

She doesn’t compliment me, he thought with a pout. All she does is call me a lazy bum.

Oh, stop. You're just being whiny now. That's how she shows her affection, dummy.

“Actually, Sora, I’m glad you called. Since Ienzo was a Nobody, I thought he might be able to help us with Roxas and Naminé.”

“Help us with Roxas and Naminé?” Sora said, slow and deliberate. He would take any lead he could get at this point.

“Yes. I’ve been having these dreams lately, about Naminé. It’s like… she really is talking to me. She showed me her memories in one of them and— well, that’s a conversation I’d rather have in person. But anyway—”

“She showed you her memories?”

Kairi paused. “Yes. Is that significant?”

“Well, it’s just that… Roxas did the same thing when I was asleep, too.”

“He did?” Kairi asked, her voice earnest. Sora could practically picture the face she’d be making right now. “We have to help them, Sora. I know this is going to sound strange, but… I want Naminé to be her own person. It’s not good enough that she’s alive inside of my heart anymore. I want her to exist outside of me.”

Sora took a deep breath. He’d been hoping Kairi would say something like that. “I know. I know because... I feel the same way about Roxas.”

“You do?”

He smiled. “Yeah.” That Kairi felt the same way about Naminé just reinforced his belief.

“We might have a way to do it. Naminé mentioned Ienzo to me in a dream, and when I found him in the castle and explained the situation, he said he wants to help. Master Yen Sid told you Chip and Dale have been analyzing Ansem the Wise’s data, right?”

“He did mention that, yeah.” Sora had almost forgotten, he’d been so busy with everything else.

“Ienzo thinks that data could be the key to bringing Roxas back. And if Roxas can come back, surely Naminé can too, right? But I’ll give you Ienzo’s number so you can call him yourself. I think he can explain all the theory behind it better than me.”

Another lead. Finally. Sora couldn’t be happier.

See, Roxas? I’ll find a way to save you yet.

“Thanks, Kairi. I’ll be sure to do that,” he said. “And how about you? Has everything been going okay?”

“What... do you mean?”

“Oh, just your training and stuff.”

She laughed, but it almost sounded forced. “Oh, that. Guess no one ever told you, huh? But yeah, I’m training with Merlin and Axel right now.”

“And is that going okay?” He really hoped it was.

“Yeah. I felt pretty uncomfortable at first, but Axel apologized a lot. He really does feel bad about what he did, and he wants to help you save Roxas.”

“Are you really okay with being around him?”

“Yes,” Kairi said, very deliberately. “I wouldn’t have agreed to training with him if I wasn’t.”

“Right.”

Another pause. “Well, I better get going,” she finally said. “Break’s over. Thanks for calling, Sora.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Another long, awkward pause. “Guess I’ll talk to you again soon?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, talk to you later then.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Sora.”

“Kairi—”

The little dial tone indicated Kairi had already hung up the phone, and Sora wanted to kick himself.

Why couldn’t I say anything? Why is it that every time I talk to her I can’t put what I’m feeling into words?

Maybe you don’t have to put it into words. Maybe you just have to show her.

How can I show her when she’s not even here? Sora thought miserably.

Well, he could stew over it later. Kairi had sent him a message with Ienzo’s number.

Here it is, Sora. Hope it gives you a lead you can follow. Ienzo’s theory is connected to the data version of Twilight Town that Ansem the Wise made, so you’re in the perfect place to call him.

Kairi

P.S. I almost forgot - tell Hayner, Pence, and Olette I said hi.

Sora opened a response email and started pecking out the letters. He really did need to figure out how to type on this thing.

Thanks, Kairi. I’ll call him the first chance I get and let you know how it goes.

Sora

Her response was very quick.

Good. I’ll be looking forward to hearing about it.

Don’t worry, you will, Sora said back.

I hope so. It was nice to talk to you today. Feels like it’s been ages.

Ouch. Maybe Olette had a point.

Well, with these phones we can stay in touch no problem, he replied.

That just got a colon with a parenthesis from her. Sora stared at it for a few moments before he realized it was supposed to be a smiley face. He tucked his phone in his pocket after sending one back and returned to where his friends were waiting.

“Sounds like that went well,” Hayner commented.

“You have no idea,” Sora said, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. This was solid evidence to go off of, not just a hunch or a feeling.

See? he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. Roxas and I can both exist. Shame on everyone who told us it wasn’t possible, who told Roxas he doesn’t deserve to be his own person.

Because he does. And best of all, I might not have to become a Heartless for it to happen.

That was a big relief. His head knew he shouldn’t do it, because doing anything Ansem or Xemnas wanted was a terrible idea…

But his heart was another matter. It was begging him to save Roxas, tempting him to give into the darkness like Xemnas and Ansem had told him to.

“You mentioned that Roxas guy to Kairi,” Pence said. “Who is he?”

Sora looked at their curious faces. Maybe he should tell them about Roxas. The more people who were helping him with this, the better.

He took a deep breath. “I think it’s time I tell you guys. Roxas... is me.”

“Huh?!” Their mouths all dropped open, and Olette dropped her phone on the cobblestone street. Sora got the feeling he should be more careful with his phone, going by her reaction.

“Or at least, that’s what everyone told us,” he said. “But the truth is, Roxas is his own person. And… he’s your friend. You knew him before you ever met me. Well, I guess the data versions of you did, but I think that affected your real selves, too.”

“Is that why his name sounds so familiar?” Olette asked, checking the phone for damage.

“Could be.”

Hayner considered this. “If we’re his friends… then… why don’t we remember him?”

“It’s hard to say. But you do have some idea of who he is, right?” Sora asked.

“Hold on, back up. Data versions? What does that mean?” Pence asked.

“It means there are digital versions of the three of you running around in the other Twilight Town. Remember? I had to go there to find Kairi.”

“Yeah.” Hayner got a mischievous look on his face. “What do you think would happen if we met our digital selves?”

“You mean, who would win in a fight?” Pence said. “My money’s on Data Hayner, personally.” He flashed Hayner a grin.

“Hey!” Hayner said, and the rest of them just laughed.

“Well, anyway, Kairi told me about a guy who thinks he can help,” Sora continued, “and apparently the Data Twilight Town is the key. You guys don’t have to, but if you want to help—”

“Of course we will,” Hayner said, not even hesitating. “You’re our friend, and if you say Roxas is our friend, too, then we believe you. It’s as simple as that.”

“That’s right. And friends help each other,” Pence added.

Sora’s heart felt all warm again. The Twilight Town gang really was the best.

“So, what can we do to help?” Olette asked.

Sora glanced in the direction of the woods and the Old Mansion hidden away inside. “Come with me. I think I might know where to start.”

As they met up with Donald and Goofy and made their way to the Old Mansion, Sora couldn’t help but feel hopeful again.

Thanks, Kairi. Thanks for showing me the way. We’ll save Roxas and Naminé, and that’s a promise.

And… we’ll be together again soon.

I swear, Kairi. I swear, that when all this is over—

I won’t just tell you how much you mean to me. I’ll show you, too.

That’s not a promise.

It’s an oath.

Happy SoKai Day! This story is dedicated to my lovely beta, FlowerLady-Aerith.  I can't believe it's already been a year since I posted Trick or Treat, but here we are. This story was originally just intended to be a fluffy piece about Sora and Kairi talking on the phone, since in trailers we've seen Sora using his phone/gaming device or whatever it's supposed to be to talk to Ienzo. I thought, if Sora can call Ienzo, why not have Sora and Kairi talk to each other? But then Roxas got involved and so did plot and this turned into a KH3 prediction of sorts.

One of the lines in the recap videos for KH3 (the ones that have Chirithy as the narrator) has a line that is basically "If Roxas can come back, Naminé can too, right?" We don't know who says that yet, but I'd like to think it's Kairi, hence why she takes a proactive role in this story in helping Sora help Roxas, too. I just really want both Sora and Kairi to be actively involved in rescuing their Nobodies, to be honest.

As always, thank you for reading!

[wegoddessofhell]

Time Won’t Let Me

A/N: Welcome to @aketch-22 and I’s beautiful disaster! This is chapter one of part one to our hopefully three part series. Chapters will be posted once a week, probably on Sunday! It’s a crossover between Harry Potter, The Hunger Games and Supernatural. We took characters from all three fandom’s and stuck em’ in Hogwarts, but we see things through the eyes of Dean and Castiel. Reblogs and likes would be gladly appreciated and if you have questions you can direct them to mine or @aketch-22‘s ask box! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Long Train Runnin’ - The Doobie Brothers

Dean Winchester studied Platform 9 ¾ with a weary eye. He was ready to go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he wasn’t entirely eager to leave the safety of his home. Despite the current state of the Wizarding World, Dean and his brother Sam had managed to have a pretty fun summer. Sam was a Gryffindor, just like Dean - but a year younger. Sam was going into his fourth year and Dean was heading into his fifth - which meant things would be different for him now. Ever since the dark wizard Voldemort overthrew whoever the last Minister of Magic was, Hogwarts has been more of a training ground for the older students rather than a place of actual learning. That suited Dean fine on most days, he preferred a hands-on experience to pouring over some dusty old book in the library.

He chewed on his lip, watching Sam make his way through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Sam was safe from the worst changes at Hogwarts, at least for now. That fact comforted Dean slightly as he pushed his own cart through the seemingly solid brick wall that separated the Muggle world from the Wizarding world. The crowd of people he was met with blocked his path, and he lost sight of Sam in the fray. He groaned, maneuvering his possessions around kids and their parents kissing each other goodbye. He tried not to let his gaze linger on any particular farewell, partially due to the pang of jealousy he felt at seeing the level of affection most of these parents were freely showing their children, and partially because he simply felt like he was intruding.  As he made his way onto the train, he caught sight of Sam ducking into a compartment about midway down. He stowed his baggage and followed his brother, just long enough to make sure he was okay. He smiled as he passed, seeing Sam with a few of his friends and getting his hair mussed by the girl he pined over all summer. Dean ducked into an empty compartment, pulling out his dad’s journal.

His parents never came to see him or Sam get on the train… they’d drive them to King’s Cross, but Dean had never been able to get them to even get out of the car. He frowned at the yellowing pages of  the journal that used to connect him to his father. Now, the stories of creatures John Winchester had hunted only caused a pit to form in Dean’s stomach. Sure, the stories were great when Dean was a kid. His dad was a hunter, which to most kids would have meant he got dressed in some sort of camo and hunted deer, or maybe coyotes, but it didn’t take long for Dean to find out that his father’s targets were much… bigger. His dad hunted creatures like werewolves and vampires, ghosts and ghouls. Definitely not deer. Dean used to think he was a hero, until his 11th birthday when an owl of all creatures delivered a letter that changed his life. A year later, the same thing would happen to his brother. They were wizards… the very sort of things that their father spent his life trying to kill. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen his father that mad. The letter that explained Hogwarts and the wizarding world was, of course, burned immediately. It didn’t deter Dean and it most certainly didn’t deter the flock of owls that followed, each carrying a letter identical to the one that found a home amongst the ashes in their fireplace. It took weeks for his mom to convince his dad to let him go, and in the end, Dean was fairly sure his dad only agreed because he couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore.

He turned the page in the journal, running his thumb over the words he’s read a thousand times: “In their transformed state, werewolves are mindless beasts - acting purely on instinct and are incapable of rational thought.” He was interrupted when Lisa Braeden slid open the compartment door and sat down across from him.

She grinned broadly at him, her eyes shining. “Hey Dean! How was your summer?” Her smile faded slightly as she added, “I guess you didn’t get my letters.”

Dean glanced at her quickly and then averted his eyes. “Nah, I got ‘em, just couldn’t write you back. You never gave me your address, and the owls near my house don’t exactly know how to deliver letters. The one you sent always took off again before I could find my damn quill.”

Lisa frowned slightly, forgetting again that Dean was technically from a muggle family. He had such a natural gift for magic, it was sometimes hard to remember he hadn’t been doing it his whole life. Her voice softened. “Hey, that’s okay. Are you ready for another year?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug in response, looking at the floor and trying not to think about what was potentially in store for him. “Yeah, I guess. It’s gonna be like any other year, right?”

Lisa moved over to sit next to Dean, taking one of his hands in her own and leaning into his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, Dean. Hogwarts is a big place, and they’re only going to take one kid from our house and year. I’m sure you’ll be fine, even if your name does get picked… I’d bet my whole stock of Chocolate Frogs that Gordon Walker takes your place. He actually wants to go.” Dean leaned back, kicking his feet up on the seat where Lisa had been sitting and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He tried to remember that her name is up for The Choosing this year too, and the gloomier he was about it, the worse it would be for her. He squeezed her gently and chuckled. “Yeah, that crazy son of a bitch has been chompin’ at the bit to get to his 5th year. Guess it’s his time to shine, huh?”

Lisa nodded briefly and then fell quiet, allowing Dean to slip back into his thoughts. The Choosing. Already? How the hell did time pass so damn quick? Every year since Voldemort gained power, 5th, 6th, and 7th year students were chosen from each of the four Hogwarts Houses - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. One kid from each year in each house, for a total of 12. They were always… lesser students, ones that Voldemort deemed unworthy. Voldemort hated anyone and anything that wasn’t a pureblood wizard. That included half-bloods, muggle-borns, and just about any creature that wasn’t a giant. Even Voldemort knew the tactical advantages behind having a giant on his side. The rest were disposable, and seen as less than human. There was a problem, though, as there so often is when bigotry is involved. And that problem was population. The purebloods were dwindling in numbers, and Voldemort created a solution: The Mudblood Hunger Games. He’d round up a mix of students and magical creatures from Hogwarts and give them a chance to prove that they belonged in his new world order. Names would be drawn from The Goblet of Fire, and unless someone volunteered to take your place, you were transported with the rest of the chosen few to Purgatory. Not much is known about what happens in Purgatory, but only one tribute ever makes it out alive. The rest either die in Purgatory, remain trapped, or… by some outlandish theories, are fed to Voldemort’s snake Nagini if they aren’t the first one to find the portal out of there. Dean shuddered at the thought of being fed to a giant snake, which causes Lisa to sit up and squeeze his hand.

“Seriously, Dean. Quit worrying. You’re not going to get chosen, and neither am I. We’re going to have a great year and you’re going to pass all your exams and then I’m kidnapping both you and Sam over the summer.” She nodded her head once, matter-of-factly.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “Sorry, what now?”

Lisa nodded again, more insistently this time. “You heard me, Winchester. You and your brother are going to come stay with me whether you like it or not. My mom already talked to yours, it’s all set up.” She grins and kisses him quickly. “It took me ages to convince my mom, but I finally did it. I told her how you have to stay at school over the holidays and you dread going home for the summer break, because your dad is such a --” She cut off abruptly and pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, Dean. You know what I mean, though. She thought it would be good for you two to spend some time with proper wizards, and I --” She blushed, and continued quietly, “I didn’t want to spend another summer away from you. Please tell me you’ll at least consider it?”

And he did consider it. A summer away from his dad sounded too good to be true. He smiled widely and kissed her again, just as Finnick Odair opened the compartment door and made a very disgusted noise when he saw them. “Oy! Get a room, you two, other people have to share this train too.” He walked over and shimmied himself between them, then looked over at Lisa and winked, clicking his tongue. “Hey Braeden, you miss me?”

Lisa scowled and Dean smacked Finnick’s arm, then pushed him to the seat opposite him. “Don’t be a tool-bag, Finn. You know she’s about as taken as it gets, so knock it off.”

Finnick’s eyes danced as he smirked at Dean. “What, are you afraid of a little competition, Winchester? That doesn’t sound like you at all. Who hurt you over the summer?”

Dean rolled his eyes, but was more or less thankful for the distraction. He had a feeling he was going to need a lot of those if he was going to survive this year.

[baranskini]

Dear Anon,

I don’t understand why you wish to remain anonymous, other than the fact that it means you can remain a coward and call me a “dumbass” without saying it to my face. But, to be clear this is the final time I’ll address you on this matter like this, if you’d like to come to me as an adult and message me privately off anon? I’d be happy to talk.

So to address your message:

You say you’re remaining on Anon because you’re worried I’ll blame you like I did others when I found out about Leann?

Well? You have half of that right. I did blame those people. People who knew for months and said nothing because they thought we knew?🤔 Apparently they thought we were all in on her lie? Did they not find it odd that so many people were willing to lie for her? They thought a collective group of 10-15 people all thought “hey! Let’s all help this crazy catfish a community!” 🙄🙄

Please, that’s idiotic. 🙄🙄So I do blame them, I don’t care if you assumed we were all involved, you SHOULD have come to us and asked, hinted, done something.

“Stand by while atrocities take place and you’re an accomplice.”

They should have done something. If for no other reason than it could have saved others some pain. You have no idea the kind of torture that person put me (as well as others) through, how viciously I was played and mentally damaged I became.

With regards to @baranskiily. You keep saying how I’m a fool, that I’m being played by her. That she’s really Leann, so let me clear something up.

I know Hollie, I have her on multiple social media platforms and have spoken with her irl. Leann or whoever she was, was never willing to share personal details, she lied and feigned her existence using multiple Instagram accounts. She would never give out her cell number (even after a year of talking to her) she didn’t want to have contact on any other platform.

I know @baranskiily is who she said she is because I listened to her cry actual fucking tears when we found out about Leann, I heard her break in the same way that I did. Unless she’s Meryl fucking Streep there is no way you could fake that sort of hurt.

Leann had a wealth of stories, all involving assault, she made up things that you couldn’t even believe about rapes and attacks and did int in such a manner that you felt you could share your own assault story and yes, perhaps foolishly we believed her, but Hollie has never even come close to that. Naturally we share things but someone like Leann feeds off drama and one-uping people, her stories always had to be bigger and better, worse than your drama. If someone had broken their leg, Leann had broken both of hers and was battling cancer. I talk to Hollie and her life and stories are so mediocre (Soz Hollie) in comparison. She’s not once tried to upstage my issues or exaggerate the extent of hers.

I’m sure you’ll come back and say that she’s just fooling us again that Hollie was always Leann and that she’s just come back as her real self but I can assure you, you are wrong.

I spoke with Leann for over a year, even beta’d her fanfics for her, I knew how she wrote and talked and I am certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that the person I was talking to wasn’t Hollie.

I study linguistics, it’s my chosen field and I can tell you that the person I was talking to wasn’t @baranskiily. Not even close.

Leann’s grammar was constantly off, her sentence construction very odd and her use of past and present tense nothing short of shocking. Hollie’s spoken and written word are incomparable when standing beside Leann’s.

Leann had shocking grammar, and poor language skills - something that can’t be faked. I saw it time and time again in her fanfics and even once I’d corrected her - she still had difficulty ammeding it. She was also clearly either an American or a person educated in American English.

Maybe you’ll say this could all have been faked but this is my area of expertise. You can’t fake grammatical errors like that, they come from poor education and aren’t easily amended. She didn’t suddenly go from being unable to form a correctly structured sentence in American English to perfect grammar in British English. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Maybe you’ll claim I’m still ignorant but I’ll say this. After Leann, I became very skeptical of everyone, I repeatedly asked @baranskiily and another friend from twitter questions, I tested them in a way I had never done with Leann. Once bitten, twice shy.

Perhaps you are one of the people I blamed for not coming forward, maybe this is how you get your revenge but I’ll invite you to prove this? If you’re so sure provide me with the facts, provide tangible proof like I just did, because all this is, is speculation on your part. False and ridiculous speculation.

I’d also like to add Hollie has been asking us to step back not to address you or argue with you. If she was really Leann wouldn’t she be pushing us to defend her? Surely she’d want us to fight to prove she wasn’t Leann?

I’m sure people are now following this story, everyone loves some drama right?

Well, I invite them to make up their own minds. We’re done playing this game with you. I know who @baranskiily is, and I’m done fighting with you. She is my friend, honestly and truly, and in a way Leann never was.

You wanna continue to throw around accusations? Well, that’s your prerogative but stop trying to drag down someone who is nothing more than a victim in Leann’s sick game.

[qredence]

Hi hello here is another Drarry fam scenario for you: Harry and Draco taking the kids to meet the Dursleys. Pls I need to know how this would go!!

whoever you are, you’re an angel and i love you for sending me stuff like this.

this started out as just bulletpoints but somehow became an entire fic, oops .

In a perfect world, this would never come up. They could raise their girls and baby son without so much as a thought toward those wretched people who somehow both tainted and purified Harry’s childhood - in fact, once he’d married and moved away, he hardly thought about them anymore. Perhaps it’s because he’s actually happy, instead of living in a state of misery so constant that he hardly recognizes the melancholic limbo anymore - it just seems like life, in all its inevitable glory.

Unfortunately, the world is far from perfect. And truthfully, he’d never successfully fooled himself into thinking it was; but his face still manages to fall when the owl drops him a letter from an address burned into the back of his mind, as the stinging familiarity nearly causes him physical pain.

Draco had eyed him from across the table where they’d been having their breakfast. The children weren’t yet awake and the house was filled with the pleasant silence that, especially since Severus was born, had become quite a rare treasure.

“Why do you look like you’ve pricked your finger?” The older man asks, setting his mug down into the table while his face contorts with concern.

Harry debates telling the full truth. He knows how Draco feels about his last drop of blood on this earth, of course prior to the births of their children - but he can’t quite gauge how his husband will react to knowing they’ve reached out. The basis of his knowledge is that it will be bad, but how bad isn’t quite fathomable, yet.

Sighing, he figures he’s wasted enough time brooding. “Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sent us a letter.”

Dead silence. Several emotions phase across Draco’s countenance over the course of a few seconds - shock, disgust, anger, and curiosity; in this exact order. Harry finds some amusement in his spouse’s expressiveness, which drains just a fraction of the tension the mere presence of the envelope brings.

“How did those filthy muggles find my house?” Asks the blonde, eyes narrowed nearly to slits, “And why did they assume they have some sort of privilege to speak to you? Throw it in the fireplace.”

“Draco, no,” Harry rolls his eyes, stirring the last corner of his tea absentmindedly, “they may be rotten, but they’re still my family. I should at least see what they’ve got to say.”

A thousand ways to ask why are ready at Draco’s tongue like ammunition, but he only leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright, fine, whatever. If they had the gall to write something snarky, I’ll go all the way to their pathetic little house and hex them all. Especially the son.”

With that, the Healer’s tall and elegant form rises from his seat, gathering both their empty mugs to place in the sink for later cleaning. Harry mumbles his gratitude for his husband’s taking his mug for him, but the most of his focus has now centered on prying open the thick envelope.

It only takes a few moments, the letter itself unfolding near instantly upon its removal from the paper pouch.

Silence comes again, and Draco stands at the sink, facing away from Harry but listening carefully for any groans or grunts of discomfort. When nothing follows after a few minutes, the gray-eyed of the two turns and lets his impatience best him. “Well? What does it say?”

“Quite curious for someone who said to throw it in the fireplace,” teases Harry, all while Draco nears him and places his hands on his shoulders, leaning over his chair to see the parchment.

“Shut up, Potter,” orders the blonde, though his arms are sure to wrap dotingly around his husband’s shoulders. The Auror leans back into him before starting to explain.

“They want us to visit.”

Harry can almost feel the Healer’s eyes widen, especially once his voice comes in a scoff.

“My children? Setting foot in that rat’s nest of a house? I didn’t realize the Deadbeats had taken up comedy now.”

“Dursleys,” corrects Harry, though he knows Draco is already aware, “and they seem serious. They want to meet the girls - it seems they don’t know about Severus, yet.” To his own surprise, Harry manages to feel a little guilty for keeping his only family in the dark about his life. The only reason they knew of the girls was because years ago, Dudley had happened to run into Harry on the London streets, when Alba was no older than a few months and Lucy had just turned four. Looking back, he thanks God that Draco hadn’t been with him because that pleasant little exchange would have gone far worse, considering the Healer’s defensiveness over his husband.

Which, really, is very cute.

Harry thinks maybe it’s tied to Draco’s remorse for treating him less than cordially for most of their school lives, but he’s never actually asked about it - it’s an unspoken thing between them, for the most part. Harry is just as protective.

“They don’t need to know anything about us,” Draco says coldly, in contrast to the warmth with which he still embraces Harry from behind, “I was living my life just fine before they’d decided to butt their crusty little noses into my business.”

“Come now, Draco,” Harry starts, sighing a little. The addressed releases him, then, sitting on the edge of the table to face him.

“You actually want to meet with them?”

“No,” Harry answers truthfully, adjusting his glasses, “But, I feel like we should. It’s just one meeting … they really haven’t seen the kids at all, and Lucy’s six, now. They’re still family, Draco. If something goes awry, we can always leave.”

Plump lips are pursed for quite a while, until the blonde opens his mouth to speak - but is cut off by loud cries from upstairs, which signify that the youngest of their offspring has woken up.

Both of them stand, heading to the staircase almost immediately.

“Alright, Potter … but don’t think I’ll hesitate to hex them if I see it necessary.”

The baby pink ribbons tie neatly into the sea of dark hair, which Draco had managed to tame into two plaits, draping delicately over the girl’s tiny shoulders. His hand raises to smooth some of her fringe away from her eyes, which look just like his, albeit bigger and far more innocent, and he smiles as she tries to stretch up to see herself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful, love, no need to fret.”

A small giggle comes from her sweet throat, which only ever seemed to speak words of love and purity. He cups her face, leaning down to kiss her forehead before getting to his feet to check on the eldest, who insists now on dressing herself.

Upon entering her bedroom, he sees she’s chosen a light blue dress, and mostly has the mechanics of her ensemble figured out. He smiles dearly at this - but upon noticing the worry etched into her face, he frowns.

“Lucy, dear, what’s wrong?”

The child looks up almost instantly, rubbing at her eyes out of habit before shrugging her shoulders. “I’m scared …”

“Why are you scared?” Asks Draco, sitting on the edge of the bed where she faces away from him.

“Because …” he watches her struggle to find the words, forgetting for a moment that a child’s mind works a lot differently than an adult’s, “Papa said these people were mean to him, Daddy. I remember we met his cousin Dudley a long time ago, and Papa said he didn’t like him very much because he was mean. What if they’re mean to us? Or what if they’re still mean to him?

“They won’t be,” assures the parent, scooting closer to the little girl, “it’s been a long time since Dudley has been mean to your Papa. He’s grown up, now, the both of them are - so he’s probably grown out of it. But even if he hasn’t, don’t worry. I won’t let them be mean to any of us.”

Lucy hesitates, running her delicate little fingers along the white ribbon in her hands. Once she seems to have thought about it enough, she turns and wraps her arms around her father, exhaling the last of her troubled sighs. “Okay, Daddy.”

Leaning down, he kisses the top of her head. “That’s right, angel, don’t worry about it. Now, do you want help putting that ribbon in your hair?”

The quaint little house where Harry had spent the first eleven years of his life seems not to have changed at all. He nearly gets chills walking up to the front door, but holds his composure - mostly because Severus has dozed off in his arms.

Draco takes acute notice of this and gently swats Harry’s hand away when he goes to move, reaching forward to ring the doorbell himself so that the resting baby could enjoy a few more moments of peace.

It barely takes thirty seconds for the tumblers to start turning and the threshold to eventually be opened - and there stands Petunia; age apparent on her characteristically vigilant features as she emerges from the amber glow inside the house. She seems to light up once she notices who’s there, but Harry can tell it’s not entirely genuine.

“Well, hello! Welcome back, Harry, it’s so nice to see you after all these years,” she chirps, moving aside to widen the space the family of five has to enter.

The quintet moves swiftly to beat the autumn chill, Draco ushering the girls in first, then allowing Harry and Severus to enter before he trails behind, eyeing Petunia warily.

She falters for a moment, but appears to brush it off. “Alright, alright - don’t you all look lovely? Especially these two princesses down here,” greets the woman, smiling too widely at the sisters. Alba giggles happily and shouts a grateful ‘thank you!’, while Lucy smiles politely and bows her head.

The staircase shakes, and Harry figures Vernon has caught unto the commotion, and is on his way to greet the guests. Similarly, Dudley and his wife appear from around the corner.

Green eyes dart toward Draco, who seems as though he’s straining himself to mute his distaste. Their eyes meet, and the Healer sighs through his nostrils, attempting to smile in light of Petunia’s compliment toward their daughters.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dursley. That’s kind of you to say.”

“Really, I mean it. They’re beautiful - and they look so much like the both of you.” She almost sounds confused as she says this, and Harry thinks to explain how, biologically, that is possible - but he enjoys her bemusement and figures to leave it a mystery.

It’s then, Petunia’s eyes fall onto little Severus, who still sits asleep in Harry’s arms.

“Ohhh, look at this one! Isn’t he adorable?”

Her squealing wakes the infant, and Harry rushes to pat himself down for the pacifier, knowing that the child is due to burst into tears any moment. Just as Severus opens his mouth to wail, Draco comes to the rescue, popping the semi-opaque piece of silicone into the threatening orifice.

“Ah, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon,” Harry starts, noticing they’ve all gathered ‘round, “and Dudley, of course - this is my family. My husband Draco, and our three children; Lucy, Alba, and Severus.”

With the name ‘Severus’, Petunia appears to flinch. But she keeps her lips sealed on the matter, smiling as she offers her best homemaker’s greeting. Vernon, however, stares blankly at them prior to offering a dry nod. The most genuine reaction, surprisingly, is from Dudley.

“Well, isn’t this quite a family?” He remarks, stepping ahead of his parents, dragging his wife along with him. She smiles shyly at Harry, and even Draco, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “I’ll be damned, Cousin, you’ve really managed to do well for yourself. Your kids actually look pretty normal.”

Draco’s jaw clenches, and Harry subtly clasps an arm around him to remind him to behave. He’s only teasing, after all.

Still, Draco smiles in an annoyed way and lets his sharp tongue loose, albeit with mercy. “You ought not to swear in front of children so young, Dudley - you wouldn’t want to be a poor influence, now would you? Surely your mother taught you that?”

Petunia seems startled at the unexpected mention, and clears her throat. “Of course, it was just a slip of the tongue, wasn’t it dear? Now, I’ve made some hors d'œuvres for us to enjoy while we catch up. Dudley, if you and Emma will help me in the kitchen? The rest of you go on and get comfortable, we’ll be back!”

Getting ‘comfortable’ would be quite the task, but Harry would be a liar if he’d said he didn’t want to sit down. Vernon guides them over to the sitting area, where Lucy scrambles to sit next to Draco, and Alba seems to be the only one genuinely happy to be here. Of course, she’s just a happy child - perhaps Harry could learn something from her.

“So, boy,” starts Vernon, settling onto the couch facing toward the furnace, “two daughters and a son, eh? How old?”

Surprised by the pleasantness of that question, Harry doesn’t hesitate beyond a few seconds to answer. “Well, Lucy is oldest. Lucy, would you like to tell your granduncle how old you are?”

The little blonde is curled up against Draco, a worried look again present across her fragile countenance as she stammers. “I-I’m … six, Mr. Dursley.”

“Six, are you? Come now, Lucy, you don’t have to call me Mister - Uncle Vernon is fine. We’re … family, after all.”

Lucy purses her lips, looking away - and Vernon seems to be waiting for her to say something before he’s scared half to death by Alba’s sudden shouting.

“I’m two, Uncle Vernon!”

“Are you?” he laughs almost nervously as he recovers, the outgoing young girl nodding energetically as she swings her legs over the edge of the sofa. “That’s wonderful.”

Harry smiles at Alba, though gently encourages her to lower her voice. “There’s no need to shout, Love. We’re all right here, okay? Let’s use our inside voices.”

Draco manages a smile, too, mindlessly running his fingers through Lucy’s hair and remaining quiet, for the time being.

“And last but not least,” Harry prefaces, sitting the baby up on his lap, “This is Severus. He’s about half a year old, now.”

“Severus, huh?” Vernon rubs his stubbled chin, as the name tastes eerily familiar on his tongue.

“Yes,” Harry explains, noticing Petunia listening from the kitchen doorway out the corner of his eye, “he’s named after one of the greatest professors Hogwarts has ever known, whose sacrifice ultimately made his birth possible.” His eyes slowly meet their corners again, as Petunia’s shadow disappears.

“They’re all named for something or someone,” Draco finally chooses to speak, and Harry feels relieved that he won’t have to do all the talking. “Lucy for my father, and Alba for Dumbledore. You know who that is, don’t you, Mr. Dursley?”

It almost sounds threatening, the way Draco asks him. Vernon swallows tight in his throat and nods. “Yes, I do.”

At this point, Petunia and her helpers re-enter the scene with two trays of deviled eggs, which are set carefully on the glass coffee table. Dudley sits beside his father, and his wife, apparently named Emma, sits beside him. Petunia chooses the armchair closest to Harry, where Severus stares at her.

“So - Draco, yes? We’ve hardly heard anything about you. How did you and Harry meet?”

Draco eyes her as though she’d asked him for all the money to his name. Licking his lips, he obliges her with an answer. “School. We were in the same year at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, really? So you were friends?”

Before Draco can answer, Alba chimes in, “Daddy says that he and Papa didn’t play nice for a long, long time because Daddy had a big crush on him but he didn’t know what to do.”

Harry bursts into laughter, and so does Dudley, while Draco’s face reddens. “That’s a fairly abridged account, but technically, yes, that’s accurate.”

Petunia smiles. “Oh, I see. Forgive me for being so surprised, I was expecting Harry to end up with someone a little more … reserved.”

“Nah, cousin needs someone to whip him into shape. I like this chap he’s ended up with, looks like he keeps his back straight.”

Draco’s head tilts, eyes filled with anger and Harry deliberately cuts him off before he can start speaking, “Well, opposites attract, as they say. We’ve been married about eight years, now, so something’s working.”

“Yes, I must say, Harry - I’m pleasantly surprised that you’ve got such a lovely family. I hadn’t been expecting-”

“You weren’t expecting anything, were you?” Draco snaps, standing suddenly from where he’d been seated, startling Lucy. “You never expected anything from him. You kept him locked up in a damn closet and fed him the scraps off your plates until you felt 'generous’ enough to lend him a spare bedroom, only to lock him up there, too. And now you have the nerve to be surprised that he’s done well without you. I’m almost thankful you treated him the way you did, because surely your piss-poor behavior showed him how to be a decent person, and showed him how to never treat our children. You sit here and laugh at him and consciously insult him under your backhanded compliments - I’m sick of sitting here, listening to it. You want to know the story? I treated him a lot like you did when I first met him. But I realized that I was wrong, and made up for what I did - I’m still making up for it, honestly. But you - you haven’t learned anything, have you? You’re all pathetic, and I loathe that my children have to share a drop of your toxic blood. Goodnight.”

Draco gathers the children, including Severus, whom he plucks off Harry’s lap with little protest, and disapparates. The Dursleys sit in shock, stunned by Draco’s outburst, and Harry sighs, looking at them pitifully.

“Next time you want an update on my life, or are in the mood to pretend as if you care …” he grabs his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder, “just ask for pictures, okay?”

And with that, he follows Draco home.

[hakim-hk]

How To Start a Blog – Beginner’s Guide

So, you want to start a blog huh? Great idea!

But…how the heck do you get started? There’s so much info out there on the web, and everyone’s telling you to do different things. Who do you listen to? Where’s the starting point?

Damnit, maybe you should just forget it – it’s too confusing!

Well, hold up. I used to be a blogging newbie too. I had the same problems. I started my blog (BloggingBasics101.com) way back in 2006, and I knew less than nothing about blogging. In fact it was only the week before I’d learnt what a blog was.

Now I know a ton about them, and my blog’s doing pretty well – I receive more than 300,000unique visitors per month which makes me consider myself someone you could listen to and learn from when it comes to building your own blog. I’m not some sort of Guru, but I certainly do know the basics.

I promise it’ll be simple, relatively easy, and definitely easy to understand (no stupid jargon). Sound good?

Awesome, let’s move on.

Why you should create a blog and join the blogging community

So below, I’m going to outline exactly what you need to do to get started and set up your own personal blog. Before we dive in though, I really want to talk about WHY you should build a blog.

Note: If you already have a solid idea of the whys, then skip this and go right ahead with the guide.

Blogging has quickly become one of the most popular ways of communicating and spreading information and news. There are literally millions of blogs online (don’t worry, you can make yours stand out and get noticed!).

It’s a great way to express yourself and also a fantastic way to share information with others.

You become a better person and a better writer.

The best reason? You can make money doing it!

I bet you already knew all of that, but it’s nice to be reminded.

One very last thing before we get started:

Creating your own blog can take a little while, probably up to 30 minutes. So grab yourself a coffee or juice (whatever you fancy) and let’s get stuck in. If you need any help during the set-up process, get in touch with me here and I’ll help as best I can and answer any questions you might have).

Disclosure: This guide to starting your own blog contains some affiliate links. If you purchase a service through one of these links I may earn a small commission, this is at no extra cost to you.

The Steps Covered In This Blogging Guide

It’s nowhere near as difficult as setting up a website from scratch (there’s very little technical ability needed here). In fact, there’s no coding required by you. Good news, huh?

How to Start a Blog in 5 Steps:

There’s five main steps you need to do in order to start a blog. If you follow this guide exactly, you’ll have your own blog set up in 30 minutes or less.

Choose your preferred blog platform

Choose web hosting for your blog

Setting up a blog on your own domain

Design your blog

Useful resources for blogging

So, we made it. Phew. Better late than never! So, without further ado, let’s jump into step 1.

Step 1 – Choose your preferred blogging platform

Choosing where you want to build blog is pretty much the first thing you have to do. I’m going to take a leap and assume you’ve heard of WordPress, and this is the platform I advocate. It’s massive.

It’s by far one of the biggest blogging platforms in the world, with countless plugins and add-ons and almost infinite ways to design and layout your blog.

There are more than 82 million active users of WordPress = a lot, basically.

There are other alternatives however, and they are listed below:

Blogger – Definitely the next best thing to WordPress.

Tumblr – Half social network, half blog. Interesting, and very simple to use.

Even though WordPress is bigger (and probably better) than those two, here are my reasons why you should still go with WordPress:

Super easy set-up and is free to use

Tons of free themes and layouts (I’m not kidding, there’s gazillions).

There’s a massive support forum in case you get stuck (you won’t, but it’s nice to have it there if you need it).

Your blog will be insanely fast and it’ll also look Functionality and form – perfect!

People can interact with you easily. Your content can be shared, commented on, and so on.

Here’s an article about different blogging platforms (including WordPress), give it a read:

How to Choose a Blogging Platform – (updated for 2018)

Now, Step 2 (see, we’re moving fast now!)

Step 2 – Self-hosting or a free alternative?

Whoa, slow down there! This is the biggest decision you’ll have to make before we go any further. You need to decide whether to pay for your blog or grab a free one.

WordPress, Tumblr and Blogger all offer free blogs for anyone. Awesome, right? It’s perfect for those of us who aren’t super serious about blogging. But it does have downsides:

1) You won’t be able to get your OWN domain name

On a free blog, your blog’s web address (your URL) will be butt-ugly. Like, really ugly. In short, create a free blog with any other the above free blog services and it’ll look like this:

yourblog.wordpress.com

yourblog.blogspot.com

yourblog.tumblr.com

I know, ugly right?

2) Limits and more limits

There are some limits to free blogs. You can’t fully monetize it, and you don’t have the possibility to upload all those videos and images you want to show everyone – it’s all limited. Worse still, you won’t even have access to the free themes offered by WordPress.

3) You DON’T OWN your blog

It might sound silly at first, but you don’t actually own your blog. It’s hosted on someone else’s web property and they can delete it if they want so. They have done so in the past, and keep doing it in the future. Which means all your hard work on your blog, all those countless hours of writing blog posts might be vanished within seconds. Sad…

On the other hand, with a self-hosted blog on your own domain name – you are the REAL owner of your blog. You’ll be able to name your blog whatever you want, for example “YourName.com” or “YourAwesomeBlog.com. You can end it with .com, .co.uk, .net, .org, or virtually any other web suffix. Add to that unlimited bandwidth for videos, images and content plus the free themes and you have a winning combo.

So how much is hosting and a domain name? Not as much as you’re thinking, fortunately. It usually works out to about $5 to $10 per month, depending on your hosting provider which is less than a couple of coffees.

If you still have questions, here’s some further information for you to look at:

Should I Choose a Hosted or Non-hosted Blogging Platform?

Step 3 – Start a blog on your own domain (if you chose self-hosting and a custom domain)

I’m going to push ahead based on the premise you’ve chosen WordPress, and if you haven’t, you should. Seriously, it’s the best.

If you’re still a little confused by what a self-hosted blog is, allow me to explain and how you can go about setting one up for yourself.

You’ll need to come up with a domain name you like and also choose a hosting company that can host your blog.

Domain: The domain is basically the URL of your website. Examples: google.com (Google.com is the domain), Facebook.com (Facebook.com is the domain). See? Simple!

Hosting: Hosting is basically the company that puts your website up on the internet so everyone else can see it. Everything will be saved on there. Think of it as a computer hard-drive on the internet where your blog will be saved.

Personally, I use iPage (for my blog domain and hosting), and I’ve got nothing but good things to say about it. It’s probably one of the cheapest (less than $2.50 per month) hosting providers out there. A domain name will cost around $10-15 a year, but with iPage they throw that in for free :). Big smiles for that! They’re the providers I use for all of my blogs, including the one you’re reading right now.

If for any reason you don’t want to go with iPage, feel free to choose your own hosting company. Most, if not all of them, should have a “one-click” WordPress install solution on their admin panel.

That button will automatically install WordPress on your blog. Did I say it was simple or what?

All you need to do is sign up with iPage (or your chosen provider), choose your hosting plan and a domain name and look for the one-click WordPress install button on the admin panel.

WordPress essentials aren’t often needed, but I’d recommend whois privacy (that will keep all your personal details private) and definitely automated backups (this’ll save your website just in case anything fails or disappears, so you won’t lose any or very little of your blog).

I have a more in-depth tutorial on building a blog with iPage here.

Start a Blog with iPage today and get an exclusive discount plus a free domain name

Once WordPress is installed on your website, all you have to do to start blogging is go to your WP-Admin page usually www.yourblognamehere.com/wp-admin and start writing by adding a new post.

At the start, the layout looks confusing, but it gets very understandable quickly. Don’t worry!

Step 4 – Designing your WordPress blog

Now, the fun bit.

Let’s make your blog look exactly how you want it to. To choose a new theme, you can either head to Appearance > Themes and install a free WordPress theme or you can head to a premium theme website like ThemeForest.net and buy a theme for around $40.

I usually choose something that looks professional and pretty easy to customise. WordPress also has this awesome feature that allows you to change themes with just a few clicks. So if you start getting tired of your current blog template, you can just switch to another one without losing any precious content or images.

Remember, your blog’s design should reflect both you and your personality, but also what the blog is about. There’s no point having a football-orientated theme if your blog is about tennis, understand?

On top of that, it should be easy to navigate if you want people to stick around. If it’s tricky and difficult to move around it, people won’t stay. Design is a subjective art; meaning everyone likes different things.

But no one likes ugly websites, and they especially hate websites that need a university degree to navigate. Make it easy for them.

For more reading, I’ve put together 3 blog posts about designing your blog. Feel free to check them through.

Blog Design: Keep It Clutter Free and User Friendly

Advice for Blog Design and Blog Goals

Is there any software I can use to make my own graphics, button, and banner?

Last step! Woo!

Step 5 – Useful Resources For Beginner Bloggers

Bloggers come to blogging arena with varying degrees of online and social media experience, but we’ve all made more than a few newbie mistakes – there’s always room for more learning and improvement, whether you’re a beginner or you’ve been blogging for years.

These articles may help you avoid some of the growing pains when it comes to your first blog – enjoy!:

5 Beginning Blogging Mistakes You Can Fix

Choosing a Blogging Niche

How We Communicate: FAQs for Beginning Bloggers

7 Ways to Boost your success as a Blogger

And that’s it! I’m more than confident that your initial blog set up should now be finished and ready to go, and all that should have been really damn easy (unlike my first time, lucky you!). If you are having any problems installing WordPress on iPage then this guide may help.

If by some unfortunate circumstance you get stuck or have any questions for me about how to create a blog, just get in touch with me or leave a comment below. I’ll help you out with any problems.

Enjoy your new blog!

Start a Blog with iPage today and get an exclusive discount plus a free domain name

[soldatrenard]

The Moon Disciple

To Whom it May Concern:

Death doesn’t strike fear in my heart: the unknown does. The idea that I’ll never truly know the point of life nor will it ever be solved is unfair. No shining light of wisdom will grace me with its knowledge. If we give our lives to these teachings, shouldn’t there be a tangible divine presence? We can convince ourselves of internal enlightenment, but I need the grace of god bestowed upon me in an actual form. Selfish is what you may think of that request, however; hasn’t everyone looked up for guidance and been unanswered? We’ve spoken to men and women representing an entity, but they are simply providing their own opinions of guidance. We can justify what we think are signs from above but that doesn’t mean they really are. Here I am in my final moments, and I doubt my body will be found within the first week of my bittersweet end. A big joke considering what pain has followed me throughout the years.

Should I take it personal? There are those who have never experienced turmoil or adversity in their lives, yet I have been struck down time after time. My family was taken from me. My brother, my sister, and my father were all killed in a “tragedy.” A god damn joke. Not to mention, my mother didn’t have the chance to meet me as she died during my conception. I don’t even want to talk about her. Not my mother, but the love of my life. Trust me, there’s simply not enough time to explain (I’m trying to kill myself). It’s as if everything in my life was crafted to push me to the edge. I can’t help but ask: why? The people I considered friends abandoned me because I refused to gift them money from the settlement. I mean, isn’t ironic that I become rich due to the death of my family and all it did was push me towards seclusion. People angry that I didn’t want to throw them a bone. As if I owed them because they had to deal with my moping and crying.  

I stopped leaving the house, I quit posting on social media, and I don’t answer the phone. After a while, everyone forgets you exist. I still follow them and look at what they post, but no one tries to interact with me. They think I’ll go on a tirade about how depressed I am and even if they did listen, they wouldn’t believe me because I have a lot of money. I wish I could buy my way to happiness but company that is paid for is not company you’d wish to have. Sure, I’ve paid for drugs, escorts, and uber eats but those aren’t contributing to my well-being. Fleeting moments of euphoria that aren’t helping me move past my depression. I never got a pet because I worried what the hell would have happened to the poor thing. It just doesn’t make sense to me that I would be consumed with this kind of thinking. How can anyone be scared to have a pet? Regardless of how you feel about the things I’ve said, no one should be feeling the way that I am nor should they experience the hardships I have endured.

That’s the gist of it, and now that you’ve been given the cliff notes: I’ve fashioned a noose and my agony will soon come to an end. It’s been a shitty run. I look forward to seeing the gates of hell because at least I’d know there was some truth to the testaments. If some greater power wants to intervene, this is your...Page Break

A knock echoes throughout the house as I almost finished my death note. I’m a bit pet peeved by the transgression to be honest. I will admit it is a bit ironic considering the last words I wrote, but I hope it isn’t the Mormons because you can take that intervention back, God. I drop the pen and decide to answer the door. I open it and to my surprise; it’s a beautiful woman wearing a pants suit. I’m either being sued, or I am about to be surveyed. With the door slightly cracked as my eyes glare out towards this stranger, I ask, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taken a bit back by my bluntness, the stranger simply asks if I’m Andrew Purdy.

“Yes, I am, so who the fuck are you?” I reply.

A bit ruffled but still maintaining composure, she says, “I’m the director of Project Ascension, the global initiative to colonize the planet Mars.”

I must admit, I wasn’t expecting that. “Okay, and your name?” I ask.

“Melissa Munoz”

I turn my head and ask out loud, “Alexa, who is Melissa Munoz?”

In the background you hear, “Melissa Munoz is best known for her pioneer work in the field of Astronomy. Graduated from Harvard University in 2030, she is currently the director of Project Ascension. Would you like to hear more?” Man, smart assistants, what would we do without them?

“No, thanks.” I respond to the device as I open the door fully.

I’m either being pranked in such a radical way or this is some wild attempt for a donation. “What would someone like yourself be doing here in Palm Springs?” I ask, but quickly follow up with, “we aren’t flying any rockets out here.”  

“I understand that this is unannounced and a bit odd, but I’m here because I need your assistance.” She explains.

Of course, a fucking donation. It’s always money. But why would the director be doing this personally? I mean, she is a beautiful woman and that can work on most people; however, isn’t she supposed to be running this space program and not knocking on doors?

“Let’s say this is true, what do you want? Money?”

“No, we want you to join the Initiative.” She grabs a hold of my hands and looks me straight in the eyes as she says, “I can explain the details if you invite me inside.”

There’s always a reasonable doubt granted to those in most situations. Where the unexplainable seems to be the only logical answer. There are times where the unbelievable takes over what we perceive as reality, and I have arrived at that moment.

“Thanks, but that’s a hard no.” I pull my hands away and close the door on her face.

I hope I didn’t hit her with the door, but you must be a bit dramatic in order to scare off people. Hell, most of the time you only need to speak your feelings to get someone running. Although, it doesn’t seem like Melissa got the point as I hear her knocking at the door again.

I walk towards the center of my living room where I have a noose hanging from the ceiling fan. Ignoring the barrage of knocks at my door, I had hoped for a quiet demise but at this rate; my body won’t be discovered too long after my death now. I put the noose around my neck and get up on the chair. I’m not scared, and I feel at ease. Anyone fighting internally with living or dying would be showing signs of contemplation at this moment, but I’m more concerned about the pounding at my door. Now that I’m considering how feisty those knocks are sounding, I’m not too sure I’ll be able to properly kill myself. Am I about to make this woman a hero if I try to kill myself in this moment? As I dangle from the roof, is she going to peek in through my blinds and attempt to rescue me? Complications are not what I need right now. Can’t a guy die in peace?  

“Well, shit.” I remove the noose and walk back to the door. I open it, and Melissa had an intensity written across her face that made me believe she would have done whatever it took to get back inside.  

I move aside and welcome her in.

I invite her to sit on the couch. Of course, she notices the noose above my head as I sit in the chair under it.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask.

There’s a look of concern on her face that indicated to me that she wasn’t interested in a drink, so I say, “Just tell me what you wanted to so we can go our separate ways.”

She regains her composure and answers with, “Each country in the world was tasked with choosing an individual that would represent them on Mars.” She looks back up at the noose then back at me, and states, “The United States chose you.”

I almost stood up and put the noose around my neck at that moment. It was that absurd to me. Why in the hell would I be chosen for this project? Especially by Uncle Sam and the animal brigades.

“I don’t see why or how that is the case.” I respond. “I mean, what do I look like Neil fucking Armstrong?” I mean, an already trained astronaut in comparison to me is night and day.

She unconsciously nodded in agreement. She acknowledges how outrageous it all sounded by her expressions alone, but she adjusts herself before continuing, “No, you’re not; however, you are the one they specifically picked.”

I can’t help but scratch my head. I mean, I know that’s not what actual people do when they’re befuddled but this is strange enough to make me do that.

“How did they come to this terrible conclusion?” I ask.  

My utter confusion must paint me out to be a dumb ass in this situation as the next set of words were spoken to me as if I was being addressed by a first responder after being involved in a car crash.

“You were chosen through a raffle that utilized the nation’s consensus, and I know that you may think you’re under qualified or not the right fit for this role.” She pauses to emphasize, “Given your current situation.” She glances back up at the noose then back to me and continues, “However, we want normal citizens to participate in this initiative.”

“Why not get an astronaut? It seems like the obvious choice.” I’m generally curious on this part.

She smiles as if that’s the key question she wanted me to ask, and says, “We already have conclusive evidence that these brave astronauts can endure and live in space.” She stands up and continues, “This initiative isn’t for these specific people, it’s for the population of the world.”

She stands up from the couch, “This is bigger than us.”  

She walks towards me and knells down. She grabs me by the hands (again) to further her point of, “The planet is becoming unsustainable and there will be a time where we will no longer live on Earth.” She lifts my hands up which forces me up from the chair. “You can be that person in history that takes the first leap in settlement on a new planet.”  

“I don’t think I can.” I claim as I pull my hands away.  

I walk towards the window that opens to my front yard and stare out, past the robust mountains and lines of palm trees, towards the densely cloud filled sky and say, “I couldn’t even handle life on this planet.” I turn to her and ask, “How could I be one of the first to live on another?”

“It’s perfect if you ask me.” She optimistically states before bluntly saying, “Why die here in your living room when you can die making history?”

The reasoning isn’t far fetched. It’s true that I could die and not be given a second thought, but I could die with a purpose if I did this. I could die outside of tragedy. Avoiding the same fate as everyone else I held dear in this life; although, I am concerned by how sure Melissa was with my imminent death.  

Science tends to step in during all my crises of faith, but isn’t that how it normally is? The contradictions to one another as one is based in belief while the other is in facts. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. The ominous feeling when contemplating life after death. Short of breath, lightheaded, and willingly thinking of an unknown shrouded in mystery for over an eternity. We fill ourselves up with ideals of a new beginning as if we are the keepers of our own fate; however, we are merely heading to a cobblestone grave or more likely a plaque plastered on a wall of death. I was perfectly fine killing myself in this moment, but something inside me has changed. It isn’t the reasoning or my will to live (just to clarify). It is a sensation that beckons to me through all this. It feels me with warmth, and it is continuously moving up from my feet to my head. A sensation that, I dare say, feels divine.  

Melissa patiently waiting for me to respond. There is a drive and determination to her that is far more attractive than her already stunning features. She has her arms crossed, and she smirked at me when I made eye contact with her. There are people in the world given far more than the rest of us. This woman was meant to be someone, and she was given all the tools to achieve that. Although, I can argue that people often throw these opportunities away. Whether it be for love or for a misguided passion, we make choices that hinder our development just as I have in life.

If I’m going to commit to this, I’ll have to assess her reasoning for being involved. “What inspired you to join the cause?”

“I have to warn you, it may sound pretentious.” She warns before continuing, “I was blessed to be born into wealth, and I have used that wealth to experience life in a way most could only dream of.” A look of shame filled her face as she finished that sentence. “I came across people of all cultures struggling to survive.” She looks at me and asks, “you know what I did to help these struggling souls?” “You made their lives better through donations?” I respond.

Her eyes look glossed over and she takes a deep breath. “I did nothing for those people.” She states. “I never gave them the light of day or even processed how much of a struggle it was for them to have basic necessities.” She sits down on the couch. “All these places were vibrant and filled with bustling workers, yet I never stood there and understood what their days consisted of.”

She pats the couch for me to sit next to her. I do to push her to continue, “I never gave it a second thought until I started to witness change in these regions. Forest fires, sea level rising, fracking, water sources being contaminated, and the displacement of these cultures.” She takes a deep breath, “If you’re living in a suburban home like you are now, these shifts in our ecosystems have created emergencies that are not easily resolved.” Guilt written across her face as she states, “It wasn’t until the virus outbreak that pushed the world to create a solution to humanity’s problem: can we viably survive if the world becomes inhabitable?”  

It is obvious that world is strained as the world’s oceans begin to acidify, and natural resources are beginning to disappear. I can’t help but make light of the situation given her stature, “Okay, so you got into aerospace science because your privileged life showed you the amount of misfortune most undeveloped civilizations experience as you vacationed?”

She wasn’t too keen on that assessment as her guilt filled face shifted to one of anger. I ease up with, “Look, I get it.” I continue, “You could have chosen to ignore it like everyone else in a position of mass wealth, but you were inspired and became a leading professional in your field.” The tension lessened at that point, but I had to ask, “Why did you come here yourself?”

I feel like I haven’t looked so intensely into someone’s eyes in quite some time, and she hasn’t broken eye contact with me at all. I’m like a child avoiding the inevitable as their father hovers above them with questions on why the chores weren’t done. I’ve been setup to do this task and even though I should honor it, I have my reluctance. She gazes into my eyes like a siren beckoning a sailor and simply states, “The importance of you accepting this invitation is critical, and I could not risk letting someone else fail at recruiting you.” She grabs my hand again. “You were destined for this, so please don’t pass on the opportunity to solidify your place in history.”  

I sit there silently as I contemplate my decision. When I was a kid, I always dreamt of going into space. I expect most had those kinds of ambitions, but the reality of that feat is most of us will never have the opportunity. You can put a fishbowl over your head and pretend to be important, but you’re more likely to kill the fish it housed than make it to space. Now, however, I could be the one paving the way for these kinds of fantasies to become a reality. I can transcend the expectations (some already placed on me) and create a new reason to continue my life.  

“Is there some kind of evaluation that I have to do?” I sigh as if being forced into this project which I will admit; I felt bad being rude to her that I couldn’t say no after that moment.

Her eyes lit up as she knew the hook had finally grabbed hold as my bitter end appears to have been postponed for now.

She explained to me how the Moon was chosen to test the technologies that will be used to colonize Mars. Through those tests, they built and established a space hub on the Moon which will be used to help transition civilians from their life on earth to their radically different existence. Everyone will be required to help maintain the facilities as they become adjusted to the confines of space. Once everyone becomes adjusted to this new kind of living, we depart from the Moon to Mars to do what has long been written about in SCI-FI movies and books.      

It’s strange how it all occurred but let me assure you; the weeks leading up to my departure were less than stellar. We talked about the procedures I would undertake in order to join the initiative. I signed a contract that I didn’t read because it would have taken hours to go over it. They explained the required tests and time of deployment, and the details sounded like a routine check-up for when someone joins a softball team and that’s about it. Melissa carried the same professional tone throughout her visit, and I was told everything was arranged for me in advanced. Even if I decided not to join, I have the feeling I would have been forced to go one way or the other. Melissa wholeheartedly believes in the decision that I am the only one meant for this. Why exactly? I couldn’t say, it is a bit perplexing; however, so is quickly deciding to postpone a suicide for a suicide mission. I’m told I’m not expected to die, but I can’t say I was thoroughly examined after seeing the doctor and other goons place in front of me.

The doctor I saw was more of a pediatrician. I’m certain I could have had my blood drawn with the butterfly designed kid’s needle if I had asked. Guy looked like an infomercial actor that mishandles the popcorn during the introduction. I could have looked in the mirror and gave the same prognosis: I am a complete mess. Not enough exercise, not enough water, and not enough in general. What did any of these people expect? I was on the brink of suicide, but they’re determined to shoot me into space like the test monkeys before me. I clearly should have failed these checks. I mean, I saw the notes the guy took, and they weren’t in favor of me. Oddly enough, this imbecile approved me. It was at that moment that my mind became consumed with conspiracies. The idea that I may not have a choice in this matter is becoming a real thought of mine. It’s as if I’m in the Twilight Zone, I’m being pushed through the floating door in-between time and space against my will. I’m hesitant to where it is leading, and I’m beginning to question everything. The only reason I’m continuing is the fact that others are legitimately involved in this project, so it isn’t a hoax itself: where do I fit in it?

I had to visit a training facility and do some exercises in front of an employee from the Ascension group. Outside of Melissa, every person that I met from the project was not friendly with me. If this was grade school, I’d be the kid with his head in the toilet and covered in shit.  Have you ever been snared at from various people under different circumstances? I made sure to shower before attending any of these mandatory tests, but it seemed more like a roast than a legitimate procedure. Side comments about my stature that maybe they didn’t think I could hear or perhaps they hoped I would hear it. The experience has left me intrigued.

A bit unusual to admit. I’m not seeking penance for sins or indulging in self-loathing. I’m seeking the truth. Clearly, these people have a bone to pick with me. It goes back to my first encounter with the organization, why would did Melissa personally meet me? Is it because she’s the one who wants me to go? It would be near impossible for me to back out now. As soon as I signed the contract, it became a media frenzy. They wanted me to appear on late night shows, be interviewed by the papers, and to represent my nation, but I didn’t want to do any of it. Luckily after I botched an early taping of the tonight show, they advised me not to make any more appearances. To be honest, none of what I told you matters outside of Melissa. It gives you an indication of what to expect and who I am, and this is to show that I never should have been involved in Project Ascension. Although I considered myself unfit for the position, it wasn’t until my departure to the moon that I realized I had made a grave mistake. My departure from Earth to the Moon will go down as a historical moment of misfortune. 

[kiingmango]

Smart Egg Unwin

I saw this post, and honestly i dont even know if this fic matches it anymore. It changed a lot. This also was supposed to be like maybe 500 words and then somehow became 2200… I am not british, so i’m sorry if this all sounds extremely american. Gonna tag @alethiaii and @notbrogues who contributed to the post (hope you dont mind me tagging you)

Eggsy had gone through extensive training for an additional four months, while taking missions after v-day and after weeks and weeks of lessons about espionage, he was finally getting his first lesson on tailoring in the shop. He handed in his finished written debrief and took the train to the shop, adjusting himself and fixing his tie. He walks up to Dagonet and gives him a smile.“I’m ready for my lesson,” He states. Dagonet gives him a small smile and shakes his head. “Harry is giving you your lesson. He’s late, as usual, but he’ll be here soon,” He nods and returns to what Eggsy assumes is filing people’s order paperwork. Harry and Eggsy had been spending quite a bit of time together, him giving Eggsy most of his lessons even while he’s busy with being Arthur. Apparently, after a candidate takes their place at the roundtable, their proposal agent will continue to teach them and go on some small joint missions for skill practicing purposes. It’s usually only for a couple of weeks, but Harry had only returned in the last month or two and he was slowly getting used to meeting up with Harry every other day or so to learn a new skill, even if he sometimes already knew it.    

He went into dressing room #1, looking through some of the drawers he wasn’t familiar with. He had just found the drawer for all the measuring equipment when a man knocked on the door and entered a second later. 

“Hi I’m here for my first appointment,” he sounded a bit unsure of himself, shuffling nervously in the doorway.  “The man at the from told me to go ahead in here.” 

Eggsy had never actually measured someone before, but he had once spent four months doing nothing but reading and watching about how to sew up clothes. At that point Dean wasn’t willing to spare any money for new clothes, he was too busy buying beer and drugs to worry about it. So Eggsy learned how to sew up his old clothes, and take ones that were too tattered to fix to make small clothes bigger. That is until people started getting suspicious and Dean had to buy clothes for Eggsy, and later Daisy.

So no, Eggsy had never actually done this before, but he had read six separate articles on suit making and he knew how to measure people. In theory.

“Uhhh come in and we can at least get you started.” Eggsy ushered the man in and took a tape measure from the drawer, swung it around his neck and took out a pen. “My name’s Gary Unwin by the way. My colleague has some important business he’s finishing up and is in turn a bit late, terribly sorry,” Eggsy addresses the issue of Harry’s absence and gestures for the man to stand up on the raised platform.

 “What are you looking for exactly? Are we doing a waistcoat or a two piece..?” He takes the small notepad next to him and jots down the man’s requests, asking the occasional question and throwing in bits of humor for charm. If he’s gonna work in the shop at least 10 hours a month (excluding long-term missions of course) he might as well practice his salesman bit.

 “Alright. Let’s go ahead and get your measurements,” Eggsy put his pen down and walked behind the man, whose name he learned was Tom, and began at the waist. He wanted to take a minimum of 30 measurements, really make sure that the suit was as best fit as possible, and so that if he accidently messed up Harry could have at least a number of options to work with. Twenty measurements in and there was another knock at the door, Harry entering looking as gorgeous as ever, in Eggsy’s opinion.

 “Terribly sorry, caught up in the fabric room,” He walked towards Eggsy’s notepad to see how far along they had gotten, his eyebrows coming together and forming two small lines on Harry’s forehead. “Well it seems Mr. Unwin has you all squared away.” Harry nodded at the two men in the middle of the room, a small pleased smile on his face. He stayed for the rest of the fitting, hovering just behind Eggsy in case he needed him. Ten minutes later Eggsy sent Tom out to Dagonet to set his next appointment, measurements complete, fabric chosen, and his own custom suit in progress. 

 “Where did you learn how to get the correct measurements for making a suit from scratch?” Harry asked, looking at Eggsy as he began putting things away and finalizing his notes. “That was supposed to be your first lesson today. You weren’t even going to measure that man, you were supposed to be measuring me,” Harry was mumbling now, almost to himself more to Eggsy. Eggsy stood to his full height, grabbing his notepad and smacking it against Harry’s chest twice before saying, “Well wouldn’t you like to know.” Eggsy sauntered out of the dressing room feeling smug, and Harry followed closely behind him feeling completely smitten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Eggsy came back from a brutal three day mission with four weeks of mandatory R&R. Eggsy was, to say the least, not happy. Harry hadn’t seen him in a few days and was a little concerned, not that he thought Eggsy would do anything stupid, he just worried. He finished up the day’s work, cleaned his desk off and headed to the shop, ready to flop into a cab and head home. Maybe enjoy a few fingers of scotch before reading in bed. He’s looking for Dagonet, he always says goodnight like a gentleman should, when he ends up in the back of the shop, finding Eggsy hunched over a table with pattern paper, rulers and a chalk stick in his hand.

 “Eggsy? I haven’t seen you in days, what are you doing?” He briefly looked up from tracing his garment patterns onto his muslin to acknowledge Harry, his hands moving with skill.

“I’ve been spending them back here with Dagonet. Watched him for a couple of days and then mentioned Tom’s suit. He said if I wanted I could do it, since he hasn’t even cut the patterns for it yet.” Eggsy whipped out a pair of scissors from god knows where and cut the muslin with ease, every line precise and not a stray cut in sight.

 “You learned how to measure, draw, and cut your own suit patterns by observing Dagonet for two days?” Harry sounded almost incredulous, but Eggsy still hadn’t looked up from his delicate work when he said “Yes, Harry.” And didn’t that just drive cupid’s arrow deeper into Harry’s old heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Tom came in for his second fitting two weeks after Harry found Eggsy cutting the patterns, and Eggsy made sure he was free that week. He greeted Tom with a smile, made excuses for his sprained wrist (which he had received in the caribbean last week, so it was mostly healed) and led him back to the same fitting room they had used before. 

“Your trousers are mostly complete, I’ll just need to finish the inseam and any final alterations if need be. Your jacket and waistcoat will take longer, and today I’ll put you in the pieces and make adjustments.” Eggsy gave a shy smile, probably more nervous than Tom was about how the pieces would fit. He quickly retrieved the three piece suit from his claimed work table and slipped back into the room, handing them over to his first client. He moved in the jacket and trousers for a bit and got back on the platform.

“Trousers are perfect. Great fit and move. The waistcoat is a bit large around here,” He gestured to his pectorals and Eggsy nodded, committing to memory everything Tom said. “The sleeves are a bit uncomfortable around my shoulders,” Eggsy nodded once again and stepped up to Tom, helping him adjust the sleeves and pinching here and there.

“So as strange as this sounds, I’m actually going to make these armholes a bit smaller. It’ll make for a better fit,” He went from the bottom and tucked a bit of the fabric in, pinning it with a small pin. He finished up the adjustments and final measurements, took out the pins and shook Tom’s hand.

 “Dagonet will set your pickup date but it shouldn’t be more than two or three weeks. I pick stitch the suit by hand so it takes a bit longer but it is definitely worth it.” Tom left the room and behind him Harry came through the door, closing it softly and sending a short grin towards Eggsy as he cleaned up his area. 

“You pick stitch as well?” Harry was surprised Eggsy was doing it by hand. It definitely was worth it, as he had said, but it took a skilled hand to do so. “Done it before,” Eggsy replied, finally looking up. “Dean didn’t care about buying clothes for a twelve year old so I got used to stitching up stuff, puttin two and two together.” Eggsy shrugged while putting the tailored suit on it’s hanger. Harry always felt a sense of dread when Eggsy talked about his childhood, and he shook away the feeling and gave him a wry smile. “Well I look forward to seeing the finished project,” and with a final nod he left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word Eggsy finished the suit in record time, hand did the pick stitches, finished the inseam of the trousers and pressed it to perfection. He left for a five day mission in Dubai as soon as he had bagged the suit. Eggsy knew it was unlikely he would be back before Tom came to pick up his custom suit, but Harry assured Eggsy that it was perfect, and waved as the plane flew away. He still had a stack of papers (financial statements, debriefs to sign off on) but he instead decided to head to the shop and take a peek at Eggsy’s suit. Agents needed to learn only basic tailoring skills, taking measurements and finer details, but Eggsy had completed this suit by himself, from start to finish.

 To say Harry was proud of his dedication was an understatement. Eggsy had surprised him with just how much he knew, how capable and smart he really was, and taking a look at the finished product he was a damn good tailor. The prick stitching was flawless, seams pulled together in a gorgeous finish, buttons and fabric matching, and the lining tucked to perfection. Tom would be very pleased indeed. Merlin came into the room shortly after Harry had zipped the bag up, clipboard in hand.

 “What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“I could ask you the same thing, because I remember dropping off a file of new driver candidates in your office not twenty minutes ago,” Merlin finished writing on his clipboard and looked up at Harry, who was attempting to look as innocent as possible. “Eggsy asked me to look at his suit,” Merlin replied to his earlier question and unzipped the bag once again, pushing it aside to take a look of the three piece.

“I don’t know why he would, what with your taste in jumpers.” Harry sniffed, trying to hide his smile. Merlin snorted at him, his own grin forming.

 “He made this by himself?” Merlin’s brows drew together, even as a smirk creeped on his face. “He’s one smart lad,” The bag was once again zipped up, suit safely tucked inside. Merlin directed his smirk to Harry.

 “Oh you’re screwed,” Merlin laughed as he left, leaving Harry to stare at the proof of Eggsy’s genius. He sighed, “I am utterly screwed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eggsy made it back to the shop a whole day early, looking completely exhausted. He took a shower, and promptly fell asleep on the couch in Merlin’s office for fourteen hours. Harry put a blanket over him when he went to go give Merlin his candidate decisions. Harry knew Eggsy wanted to see the suit through to the end, so twenty minutes before Tom would arrive he got Eggsy up. A quick change and train ride later Eggsy stood in the shop, arms placed behind him and waiting for Tom to walk through the door. He didn’t have to wait long, he walked through the door right on time. Eggsy greeted him with a handshake and Harry grabbed his suit from the back.

“Thank you, Harry.” Eggsy took the bag from his hand and gestured towards dressing room #1.

“Shall we?” Tom smiled and said yes, and Eggsy placed the bag on a hook. He pulled the suit out and presented it to his first ever client, feeling a swell of pride in himself when Tom’s grin overtook his face at the sight of his custom three piece. He helped him into the suit, smoothing it down.

“It’s a perfect fit,” Tom laughed and thanked Eggsy profusely for his time, which he returned with a simple and heartfelt, “It was my complete pleasure.”

The appointment was almost underwhelming with how quickly it was over, considering how much time this one set of clothing had taken. Harry came into the room and smiled at Eggsy, admiring the glowing smile he had on. 

“It looked amazing, my dear boy,” Harry moved to his side, and slowly wrapped an arm around Eggsy’s waist. “I was wondering, if you wanted to go out to dinner to celebrate.” Eggsy’s smile grew bigger.

“Yes, Harry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope yall enjoyed it at least a little bit :) I also tried to keep this as Eggsy centered as possible so let me know how I did!

[santaragione]

2013 Interview for Lee Witney (never published)

1. Why have you chosen to create with this medium, what are you trying to communicate and why is it important to you?

The answer is a complex one, because what we end up doing in our lives is often a result of many different experiences. The obvious, uninteresting answer is that we've always been fascinated by games and video games, as most kids are. As friends (we met when we were 17 and 20, respectively) we were enjoying discussing our different play experiences, analyzing them, and imagining how we'd have done things differently. It started as a fun exercise of thinking "what if” we had a voice in the making of our favorite games, and as naïve sense of discovery about how things work. When we grew up and began to feel like we had something to say for ourselves, games were naturally the medium we had invested lots of thought in, and we had matured a genuine belief in its expressive potential. We decided to actually start making games with the intention to create something that wasn't catering exclusively to the games world, but was also aimed at a non-gaming audience, who share our sensibilities for themes and aesthetics. We are interested in seeing how things that are typically communicated with other media look through the medium of games and video games (like politics, for example, in our 2013 game http://finalcandidation.it that we designed for the Italian elections).

2. The term 'Game' seems quite limiting for a tool that allows a person to interact with another's ideas. Do we need a word that articulates the medium accurately, that embraces protean experiences, if so could you suggest one?

It could be argued that words like "game" and "play" are not limiting in themselves. They accommodate many different meanings that keep changing based on locations, players, social interactions, narrative content, and more. Games may be perceived as puerile, because they represent concepts and actions that are deeply rooted in our human nature, but are typically experienced for the first time during infancy. We've found that trying to define the meaning of the term "game" or "play" could be as hard as defining the meaning of the term "art". We like to consider play as a behavior and to think of games as tools that enable a play behavior. This way we do not have to think in terms of restrictions such as goals and rules. Instead, we focus on what, to us, are more important design challenges like “inspiring actions”.

3. It is important to respect history but not be constrained by it. In the mediums inauguration developers innovated because they basically had a blank canvas. Where are we now, are we bound by our history or enriched because of it?

As you say, in art, history certainly has this dual effect -- it simultaneously restrains and frees the artist. This might be true for every medium, and it might simply depend on the approach. Surely, games themselves suffer from an excessive dependence on the history of video games. We wonder if it is because game-making was for so long only relegated to engineers. On the other hand, even people with different backgrounds today choose to make “retro games”.  For instance, pixel-art is extensively celebrated, often merely out of custom or tradition, without considering the implications. There is nothing inherently wrong with making games about old games, but it is a little saddening when this celebration is all that creators are interested in participating in. Imagine if every movie was like Michel Hazanavicius’s “The Artist”.

4. How can you sell diversity to risk averse consumers, especially when the work of the imitator is embraced more than the risk taker?

There was a very interesting talk by Nathan Vella at GDC China in 2012, called “Perhaps a Time of Miracles Was at Hand: The Business & Development of #Sworcery” that explains how Capybara Games managed to have a successful product by relying on a completely niche market. If the question is about surviving while making the games we want, then Nathan’s talk possibly has the answer: there is always a niche market large enough that shares our mindset, and fortunately, contemporary distribution models enable us to reach them. We, personally, do not worry too much about the “risk averse” consumers. They will eventually turn to things they are more interested in as they develop their passions and taste. What is more important is to reach people that are interested in diverse entertainment or culture that resonates with them. The interesting part is that these people may not be familiar with games, or may have never considered that games can satisfy their need for low-fi, political science fiction worlds, and the challenge is to reach those people.

5. What responsibilities do consumers have? Their demands for the videogame to be respected contradict their buying habits; which support the same immature themes over and over again.

It is tempting to say that consumers have a responsibility. When people keep buying the third or fourth chapter of the same game with more than two hundred updated guns for $69.99, well, it’s very tempting to point fingers. But developers have really as much of a responsibility -- to do whatever they can to make the games they want to make, without starving. Let’s face it: nobody is in the game industry because “it’s an easy job”. It isn’t. Crunches, sacrifices are way too common, and it is mind boggling how so many devs are willing to go through that to work on games they dislike. Some of them might be trapped in some financial loop where they are stuck in producing the most profitable game possible, but that can’t be the final goal for people that want to express themselves through games. Another responsibility game creators have is to enrich one’s own life with enough diverse experiences. It’s hard to be original in making games if we do not have personal, deep, original experiences to draw from. Finally, it’s really disheartening the amount of sexist, misogynist, overly violent, homophobic, and transphobic content there is in games and it is our responsibility to do better. We face the problem of an audience approaching gaming as pure entertainment and not as a medium capable of convey meaning, and we, as developers, should focus on ways to change that.

6. As new concepts are explored surely critique needs to evolve, especially when trying to define experiences that do not fit into our current forms of measurement. Is there an alternative to how games are currently evaluated?

The technical focus, for instance, could shift to accessibility. Instead of telling us if this or that game is making the best use of a technological expedient, critics could tell us whether it was built with a degree of accessibility appropriate to the audience the game is addressing.  It could also be interesting to see mention of relevant media to contextualize the overall experience offered by a game. If you are playing a game about fairy tales, how does your experience relate to different works by Hans Christian Andersen or the Grimm Brothers? Why are these themes treated aesthetically differently in the game with respect to early 20th century illustrations? The tendency to evaluate games only from the game prospective and not refer to the rest of human culture and history can be limiting.

7. What happens to an idea that could advance the medium but fails to tick the boxes under our current review system. Is it left in obscurity or maybe refined by someone else. If so what is the originators role; a sacrificial stepping stone for others?

I like the idea of failures as sacrificial stepping stones. We've been inspired by our own past failures as well as by various unsuccessful game productions from obscure developers in the '90s. There’s nothing wrong with failed projects and going back to see what was good in them. It would be unfair to say that projects fail just because they don’t tick all the review or feature boxes -- there are so many factors to a game’s success.

8. Please explain your definition of quality? Does it reside in a score, an accolade, sales, mass consent, personal opinion or is there something else?

This is a tricky question. It is helpful to distinguish between what we consider a successful execution of the design we set out to realize vs how well-received the final product is. In the first case it is really a matter of scale. Not all projects are born equal, and we always put this into perspective when evaluating the quality of what we create. What was the budget? How much time did we have? The quality is the ability to forecast the scope of the project based on these values and do the best you can under the circumstances. If we couldn’t have made anything better (or, should we say, more interesting), within those constraints, then the project is successful. If, instead, we are discussing success in terms of “enabling us to work on more projects through sales”, for us success can be measured based on whether or not the revenue will allow us to work on a bigger project than the one we just finished. This is especially true now, because we are very small, and we feel we still do not have the funds to work on projects with a big enough scope to let us experiment in the ways we would like. For example, we would love to hire artists and engineers to work with us and add their vision to our projects.

9. The crash of the videogame in the 80s was due to excessive poor quality and saturated plagiarism. Do you think the market could fall again and would that necessarily be a bad thing, especially given that the videogame could be reinvented without the limitations they face today.

Back when video games rose from their ashes, the industry welcomed a new approach to game development, championed by Nintendo, that set the standard for the modern industry until this generation of games. Around this time, the whole developer kit and seal of approval model was invented, in part, to prevent plagiarism. It created a safe environment where customers could finally have fewer but better games, but it also made designing games prohibitively expensive from the start (the sky-rocketing royalties to print cartridges and the cuts Nintendo would take from the sales). The result was fewer, better games on the market but also a culturally sealed world, with not much variety of exp. Today, easily accessible platforms and big online markets like Steam or App Store, things are similar to the 80s somehow, but the medium and the consumers are open to developers with different backgrounds.  Meanwhile, thanks to new accessible frameworks like Unity, Game Maker, etc, the barrier to entry is much lower. New generation consoles so far also seem to go further in this direction. The difference might be that we now have the capacity to create independent networks that filter or curate content for end users in efficient and particular ways, so that the public won’t be as lost as it was in the early 80s.

10. How do we pursuit other forms of emotional content if there is always this expectation of fun? What is the most significant hurdle in creating work that might not be accepted commercially or critically?

The separation between “fun” and “emotional” content is not always so clear cut. Many recent games find spaces between these two areas, where interesting, elevated, or even touching content can be experienced through an entertaining series of interactions. Of course there are productions that try to distance themselves from “fun” as much as possible. But there are also many productions that stay somewhere in between these two extremes and could serve as a bridge for players from one type of content to the other. It is also fundamental to understand that fun in itself is not intrinsically related to “laughs” or “delight”. Greek theater was undeniably a form of entertainment, hence “fun”, but its themes go certainly beyond those of comedy.

11. What needs to change in the developer/publisher/consumer/critic relationship to encompass new ideas. Does any one group hold more influence than the others?

Yes, consumers have the biggest influence, as well they should. They are spending their hard-earned money, as they say, and they certainly have the right to get what they want. It is our job to reach out to consumers, critics, and publishers that have a sensibility akin to ours. If publishers and critics are responsible for slowing down the maturing of the medium, it is because they are sometimes slower at capturing the new trends, the new needs of the consumers. Some game experts can fail at seeing how a certain phenomenon, apparently non-game related, is eventually going to radically shape the way games are made. It took a while for everyone to understand, for instance, the potential of tablet/portable/mobile games as a legitimate, expressive platform for games --  the first to understand this were certainly the consumers.

12. In your ideal future what would a videogame represent and how would it be perceived?

As a medium capable of conveying meaning, not just tied to the entertainment industry, we wish for games to be part of an interactive literature, to put in Espen Aarseth’s terms. We hope people will mainly approach video games for what they communicate, rather than for just killing some time. Cinema has a great diversity, from Sundance to Cannes to the Oscars, for example, these are events that celebrate different ways to use the medium, differentiating content and other aspects, all the way down to the duration of the movie itself. We should hope for this kind of diversity for video games in the future. We would also like to see the indie community outgrow what sometimes looks like an elitist behaviour. Self-referencing groups are not bad, per se, and they are pretty common in fields where the research goes beyond the common knowledge on a topic (for example, scientific publications are often aimed at an élite for a reason). But we think it’s not good when our community scorns those who believe that games can also evolve in different directions outside the “indie manifesto”. It feels like we are going against our own goal, which is to explore the communicative power of games. The recent interview with Kurt Bieg (developer of Circadia, Twirdie and SwordFight) at penny-arcade.com addresses this problem in a very critical, but interesting way. It is definitely an important issue, and we cannot afford to lose the voice of talented and passionate developers like Kurt.