#but the bad outweighs the good and my memory is very poor

[spencersmagic]

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

**

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

**

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

**

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :) 

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x​ @spencerreid-mgg​​ @eoupe​ @inlovewithbabygirl​ @galaxydefenderjulia​ @username2002​

[aggressive-positivity-network]

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough” because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

[lordoftherazzles]

Maybe a fic prompt (if you wanna do it)? I was looking at one of your gifs (they're stunning btw) and I was thinking of something like Bilbo admiring the view and saying "This is stunning" and Thorin agreeing but while gazing at the hobbit? This is kinda cliché but I feel it would be very cute. Also your writing is superior, I love it ( ꈍᴗꈍ)ﾉ✿

Ahhh!!! I love this prompt so much @nerdymeatball13 , and I'm sorry it took me a hot second to finish, lots of things piled on me at once but here we are!!

prompt "This is stunning"

word count 1789

relationship(s) thorin oakenshield/bilbo baggins

character(s) thorin oakenshield, bilbo baggins

warnings none

additional notes they're so schmoopy and I love them

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The worst was over. The Battle of the Five Armies had been something to both mourn and celebrate. Many lives had been lost, but the good that came from that outweighed the bad. A close scare came with the Line of Durin, but by some miracle or nothing short of divine intervention by Mahal himself, Thorin, Fili, and Kili all managed to pull through. It was a blessing that no one took for granted, especially the victims themselves.

Thankfully, that was several weeks ago. It was still tough for Thorin to be on his feet, but with enough stubborn resistance, he had managed to ward off most of those constantly fussing over his bandaging and stitches. Oin never let him out of bed for more than an hour at a time, but it was more freedom than Thorin had felt ever since he’d been carted back into the mountain with nearly half of his insides trying to spill outside. 

This was one of those particular hours that he was allowed to be up and wandering around. He’d set aside all paperwork and kingly duties for the sake of a simple walk in hopes that it might clear his mind. Between recovery and trying to do as much as possible to help in Erebor’s reconstruction both literally and as a power, Thorin felt bogged down. There was little time for much else, and his mind had been growing more and more muddled as the weeks went on. A mind that was constantly in worry of what the spring months might bring as they were growing nearer and nearer.

Bilbo had opted to stay considering the winter months had settled in, which was a smart move versus trying to brave any snowstorm, but it was still up in the air if the hobbit had truly planned to head back west towards his cozy little smial, or if...by chance maybe he wanted to make Erebor his new home. It wasn’t something Thorin brought up. Yes, they had made amends, even more than that, with sweet somethings having been uttered occasionally back and forth, but it wasn’t the picture perfect romance that Thorin had been dreaming about lately.

Love was nice and all, and even better when it wasn’t one-sided, but to remain unknowing as to where it might lead? That was a nightmare in itself. It was a lot for Thorin to think about, and while he didn’t want to pressure Bilbo and flat out ask if he intended to stay or go, it was starting to eat away at the dwarf little by little. It’s what this walk was to help him with. To clear his head and hopefully return to his sickbed with a mind for papers and numbers.

What had led him towards one of the worst places in all of Erebor during this calm walk of his? The ramparts were a miserable place, but it gave you a good view of the stretch of land between Erebor and Dale, and not even Thorin could ignore what a sight it was. Snow covered and untouched, it was hard to imagine the brown and red blood stains that laid beneath it from a war not too long ago.

What he hadn’t expected was for someone else to already be out here and staring just as he wanted to. A head of dark golden curls that Thorin had been trying to clear from his own headspace. 

“Bilbo,” The dwarf greeted casually, gaining a small glance from the hobbit as they stood side by side with at least a small gap between them.

“Good morning, Thorin. How are you feeling?” Bilbo was polite as ever as if nothing had changed, and while they were on good terms, didn’t this place...bother the hobbit? At all? 

“I’m feeling alright,” No one wanted to listen to Thorin complain about how sore he might be or if he had a bad sleep last night, so he left it at that. Besides, the less whining he did, the sooner Oin would get off his back. 

“That’s good. Every day is a little bit better, it seems.” 

“Indeed,” It was an awkward conversation all over again. Thorin folded his arms behind his back and just let his eyes drift towards the snow covered land before them. A bit of that snow had collected on the ledges of Erebor’s structure, he could only imagine how lovely it might look from a different angle. “You looked to be deep in thought, is something on your mind?”

Bilbo finally pulled all of his attention away from the scenery and offered Thorin a small wave of his hand. “Oh, just thinking about the Shire. We get snow there too and it’s nice, but...there’s just something about this that’s different.” 

Thorin’s heart could have sunk right into the ground right then and there. Bilbo was longing for home, wasn’t he? Those rolling green hills, even in the middle of winter, had to be far better than an ice cold mountain that was barely able to be called a kingdom. Finally deciding to toe the line of truths regarding Bilbo’s intentions, Thorin kept his eyes forward. “I’m sure you’ll be ready for the snow to clear sooner rather than later. It makes for bad travel weather…” 

“Hm, it does, but I’m not exactly eager to go anywhere so quickly. You’re just getting back on your feet. Oin can’t handle barking at you to sit still all on his own now, can he?” Bilbo teased, seeming to be in higher spirits than Thorin ever would be on these ramparts, and with the idea of Bilbo’s departure looming in his head.

A small breath of amusement did escape Thorin though, finally removing his hands from behind his back and placing it on the stone before him. “I think I can manage to sit still, but your constant reminders have helped these past few weeks.” His fingers twitched, tapping against the stone in anxiousness that wasn’t overly normal. Considering everything that Thorin had been through though, he supposed he was allowed a little bit of shaky behavior and anxiousness.

“Something’s troubling you,” Bilbo observed. It wasn’t a question, but a fact that was being pointed out far too easily. “What is it?” Placing both hands around one of Thorin’s arms, Bilbo honestly couldn’t get enough of these small gestures of physical contact, even if he was a tad anxious himself when it came to initiating them. 

Regardless of the comforting touch around his elbow, Thorin wasn’t sure it did anything to soothe his poor frayed nerves. Those nerves were exposed as soon as Bilbo was able to peg that something was bothering him and the words just started tumbling out. “How can you stand to be here?” Specifically, right in this very spot. “After what happened, how can you stand here and…”

Throw him from the ramparts!

How could Bilbo be here? How could he have forgiven Thorin for the wrongs he had done and a life that had been threatened? How could Bilbo not be whining and clawing at the first opportunity to head back to the safety of the Shire? These were the things that had been bothering Thorin, and being in this exact spot did not help.

“Thorin, you need to stop letting one small incident eat away at you. I’ve forgiven you for all of that, you weren’t yourself…”

“That’s no excuse. I laid a hand on you. You might be able to forgive me by some miracle, but I can’t forgive myself for that day...and now, knowing that you’ll be leaving-”

“Leaving? Who said anything about leaving?” Bilbo huffed, still clutching at Thorin’s elbow with both hands and giving his head a firm shake of annoyance as if he were dealing with a child. “You truly are a dolt sometimes. Handsome, brave and foolhardy to boot, but downright stupid when it counts.” 

Thorin wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed at the backhanded compliments flying his way.

“You’re going to have to learn to forgive yourself because honestly, I’m not going to come up here and have you mope every single time all because you got a little angry and said some things and...that was it. That’s all you did,” When Bilbo put it that way, it sounded far less severe than Thorin thought it was. “And as for leaving? That was...something I wanted to ask you. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but I do want to stay. Sure, I’ll miss my garden and some other aspects of the Shire but...home isn’t a place, Thorin.” Bilbo slid his hands away from Thorin’s elbow, his fingers lacing with a hand of the dwarf’s and giving it a small squeeze. “You’re my home, and that’s where I want to be if you’ll allow it.”

Thorin stood dumbly, looking towards their linked hands before letting his fingers flex tightly to grip back at Bilbo’s. “Of course…” Having Bilbo stay was all he ever wanted.

“Good, and don’t you worry, we’ll make some better memories here, I’m sure.” Leaning against Thorin’s side with hands still tightly wound together, Bilbo just exhaled a deep sigh as if a great weight had been lifted off of his chest. The same could be said for Thorin. 

A ray of light seemed to break through the thick of the gray clouds overhead, illuminating a bit of that freshly fallen snow that laid across the stretch of land as far as the eye could see. It sparkled like a sea of diamonds, and Bilbo couldn’t help the small gasp of wonder that crossed his face. He had seen snow in the sunlight before, but seeing it from way up here? To see so far and wide covered in little glistening crystals? “This is stunning,” He breathed, not paying Thorin much mind who had just been staring at Bilbo since that small gasp escaped his lips.

“Very stunning, indeed.” That look of wonder that Bilbo wore was bright and appealing. More desirable than a treasure hall of gold or a vein of mithril. 

Bilbo’s gaze flickered once quickly to start, if only because he wanted to follow Thorin’s gaze to see what the dwarf was looking at as well to deem as stunning, but after a quick double take, Bilbo was blushing fiercely. “You truly are a sappy old thing, you know that?”

“I do.” Pressing a kiss to those dark golden curls, Thorin truly had to believe in what Bilbo had said before. They would make better memories atop these ramparts, and already that seemed to be a reality in the making, but most importantly, he was here to stay.

[dilucids]

Childe oneshot; Blinded dreams

001. angst && death/mentions of death.

summary; you don't know who childe thinks of when he calls you, but you know it's not the you you wish you were.

( i feel bad for ditching y'all for this long so have one of my drafted oneshots originally written for wattpad, && if the reach on this is good, i'll let you guys have more [teehee] )

You met during summer.

And despite the sun blaring down, sending harsh rays to melt the skin right off your flesh, you did not know if the reason you were red faced was because of said sun, or because there was a pretty boy ( one of the prettiest, mind you ) that lived right next to you and he was currently hanging on the fence, waving at you with a smile on his face.

"Heya, (name)!" The way he says your name is breathtaking, almost as if it lived on the tip of his tongue yet he seemed foreign to it, as if he had not uttered the syllables in many years. Like a flower blossoming over the years, finally pulled out premature by small, fat fingers belonging to a mere child who wanted to see the flower in bloom. ( You forget you have never seen this child before. ) The flower is ruined however, its fragile petals fall into their palm and they shrug, as if they hadn't taken a life and move onto the next one, repeating the process. ( How does he know your name again? )

He peers at you ( it's similar to the way you would look at an old friend or the way your mother looks when you're going to family reunions and she has the bittersweet revelation that her father is still dead, ) and you blink, head rolling to the side, holding the bouquet of freshly picked dead flowers close to your chest, "How'd you know my name?"

His jaw slacks for just a second before his smile is back on his face, pulling himself up and flinging himself over the fence, landing right in front of you and causing you to take a tiny step back, "magic?" He tests the answer and shakes his head to revoke it when you furrow your eyebrows, not appreciating the joke. "Your mum was talking to mine," he speaks the truth when your face is unchanging to his plain joke.

You hum, and then walk back to the flower bed that was left behind by the previous family, and continue snapping stems off as collecting them in a heap next to you. The ginger boy follows you, although he doesn't sit down like you do but squats, hands close to his chest and watches as you pluck the flowers straight out of the earth. Although he followed you, he seemed more interested in the dead flowers, staring at one until you ripped it out the earth and then moved onto the next one.

He reaches out for a flower but you stop him, holding his fingers in yours and shaking your head when he looks over at you, questioning. "Thorns." An understanding breath escapes him as he continues watching you instead, your fingers dig against the dirt slightly, pushing it away before gripping the stem with your pointer and thumb before tugging ( there are many times when the force causes you to fall backwards slightly sometimes but it doesn't stop you. )

"Ajax!" You both hear coming from the boy's, probably Ajax, garden and you peer over him to when he suddenly stands up, going to jump back over the fence.

You test the name in your head a few times before your mouth follows, "Ajax," you stumbled a little but he turns around anyways, humming with a smile on his face, "I'll bring you a proper flower one day."

He nods and then disappears over the fence. You hear scoldings from his mother but tune them out. ( You didn't like the way his name felt new on your tongue, it didn't match the way he called you. )

You begged your mother to buy purple carnation seeds later that day.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are ten and 'Ajax' still sounds weird to you but you persevere.

It doesn't sound weird when your mother is the one calling him, asking him if he had enough pillows to be laying on your bedroom floor and he nods, leaning against the frame on your bed as you both bid goodnight and your mother nods, closing the door behind her. Almost immediately after the door clicks close, Ajax leans back onto your bed, making you quirk an eyebrow. "I can only sleep with two pillows."

You peer down at the head of his makeshift bed, at the foot of the closet next to your bed. There was only one pillow, you sigh and drop the pillow onto the floor. You don't wait until he says anything and slip into your own bed, pulling the cover over yourself, facing the wall rather than Ajax.

( You dream that night.

You dream of a world where man had the powers of Gods and Gods walked amongst men. Where the world was shaped by years of wars and work, where statues of Seven Gods were erected upon the land, granting peace and protection for people and animals alike.

You are sat around a marble circular table, the smell of food and tea hitting your nose. You peer up, there's a man sat a little across from you, clad in colours of cor lapis. His amber eyes hold no emotion, a diamond of memories steeping in his eyes as he brings up the cup to his lips and sips behind the hand he also brings up. His form is nothing less than godly and he sets the cup down without a sound━━━━ like a warrior. His shoulders roll down like waterfalls cascading from mountains, his hair is pulled back and bangs freely fall like leaves of a tree and you can see the scenery of Liyue in his very soul.

You don't know his name but it slips off your tongue perfectly, "Zhongli, where is Hu tao?"

(( Who is Hu Tao? ))

"The Director will be late, she is dealing with," he clears his throat in a way that lets you know his following words are a lie, "other troubling matters within the funeral parlor."

You nod, although you have no idea what he is talking about. "Do you know how late she will be?" You inquire, watching his eyebrows furrow and fingers flex, linen gloves pressing against his fingers as he does so.

You see Morax in him for a little while before his thinking subsides and he presses his lips into a line, "The Director did not state how long she will be."

You hum with nothing else to say and begin bringing your attention to the food that was beginning to grow cold on the table, "help yourself please," you signal Zhongli to the food and before he speaks, an amusing smile breaks out on your face, "I will be taking care of the bill."

His troubles subsides and he follows your words, grabbing the chopsticks by his ceramic plate. You two fall into a comforting silence, which is a peculiar yet nice feeling. Rather than a business meeting, it feels more like two old friends meeting up for a small chat.

A while passes with no sign of Hu Tao and you see Zhongli peer up from his food, eyes tracking another entity who had walked into the building, so you throw your head back a little.

"Childe." The boy looks eyes with you and a smile breaks out on his face when he sees you, the waves in his eyes crashing against the shore as his eyes crease. (( Childe? That was Ajax. ))

And you wake up to the sea washing up on shore eyes gazing down at you. )

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are twelve, two years have passed and the dream you had stayed with you like a distant memory. Ajax's name still doesn't sound nice when you speak it and you feel like you're ruining it so you settled on a nickname, Aj. ( Only two letters, how could you make them sound wrong? )

"Aj," you call out the boy, whose smile widens when he sees you. Two syllables, but that's how you know him. He dismisses himself from the bind of conversation of two girls, who seemed pretty interested in him ( as a man ) and you knew that for sure because when you stepped your foot into their conversation, they glared at you slightly before stomping away.

The walk home was slightly awkward. For you anyways, because there were words that were burning at the tip of your tongue and sometimes letting lava erupt was a bad idea but leaving it to build up is also a bad idea.

"You okay?" Ajax almost gives you a 'go', peering up at you slightly ( you were taller than him, a feat you were quite proud of ).

You clear your throat slightly, starting off cautiously, "remember when we first met?"

And you don't know what you had expected because a stupid smile lights up on his face and he answers straightly, "no."

( Your poor two years of taking care of purple carnations, down the drain for a boy like this. )

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are fifteen, stood in front of Ajax, holding a bouquet of purple carnations and a box of assorted chocolates behind your back. Sweat collects in the palms of your hand and you know it's not from the heat, you wipe both palms on the side of your sweater, watching him talk to his friends to give yourself a little more time for confidence before walking over there.

But the time shortens when his friend notices you, pointing out your figure to Ajax and he turns to you, a whole 180 degrees with his entire body and waves at you with his entire arm, you wave back with a shaky smile on your face when he begins to run your way after bidding his goodbyes to his friends.

He skids to a stop when in front of you, and can obviously see the flowers you were attempting to hide because a sly smile perks itself on his face. ( You would never admit to it, but he looked really good when he was smiling. )

"What are you hiding?" He hums, leaning down slightly with his hands behind his back as he attempts to see, you turn away, hiding the gifts for a little while longer. "Hold still," you press him down with one hand on his shoulder, stopping him and he straightens his back, humming.

"Listen," you take a deep breath because it's inescapable for you to not ramble this out, "we've been friends for a really long time, yeah? And I know this is really weird and out of the blue but I really like you and I'm sorry if I'm ruining our friendship but I've weighed the pros and cons of not having you as a friend and as someone I walk past in hallways and glance away awkwardly at, and the cons actually outweigh the pros but I really don't know if I can keep these feelings to myself because you're the only re━━"

A hand on your head stops you from talking anymore ( he's taller than you now, taller than most your peers actually ) and his smile is still there, "you're not breathing dear."

You don't realise he's called you 'dear', you feel like he's always been calling you that so it skips past your mind, and you take a deep breath. Presenting the gifts from behind you, Ajax stares at you with little expression on his face.

"I love you, Childe."

( Who is Childe? Why did he come to your mind now and why is Ajax tearing up?

There were many questions that entered your mind then, but they were all quickly forgotten when Ajax pushes your gifts aside, placing both hands on either side of your cheek and quite literally pulling you up to his height, pressing his lips against yours. You're both deaf to the sounds of whoops, whistles, and claps by his friends in the background as your arms circle his waist and his tears enters your kiss. )

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are nineteen, and the way Ajax calls you is deafening to your heart.

"(name)," he breaths, in an indescribable way as if to say 'my (name)' and it should give you butterflies but the way he looked at you made you feel as though you were a soul trapped in the wrong body. He was giving you everything you had ever wanted in a way you had never wished.

You should stop him, because he's not in love with you. He's in love with the person he sees in you, but who is that person? Why do they mean so much to him? Can't he forget them? Why do you remind him of them? Is he stupid?

And most importantly, why the hell isn't he letting you go? You've died already━━━━ even if he still retains all his past memories, does he even know how unfair his gaze is? The way he says your name? It makes you want to wake from your grave, located near Liyue ( because though Childe was from Snezhnaya, you lived and loved near the peaks of Liyue and qingxin flowers were made to bloom above your resting place, delicately and preciously ).

The way his breath was hitting your bare skin, his cold lips were barely touching your burning flesh, the goddamn way he was muttering your name under his breath and you think you've finally snapped but you come completely undone when he stops, glancing back up at you with his eyes.

( Memories wash over you in an instant, the years you spent with him in Liyue, even if he was a Fatui Harbinger and Zhongli advised you, albeit indirectly, not to get involved with them and Xiao, not so indirectly, with a scowl on his face and then the memory of him taking your life in Liyue, with a single arrow through your chest and the last thing you see is the tsunami of emotions in his eyes and Xiao pulling him off of you. You've lived for so long, through so many lives and yet he is the only one who could completely tear you apart and make you lose all reason. )

"I love you, Childe, but please," the way you call his name makes his heart ache, in ways it has never before. "Let me go." And you wash away from his shore like a fleeting memory.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Childe wakes up with his back sore and face cold due to leaning against your gravestone, he takes one hand to run through his hair, the other is placed above the grass where your body was buried and he peers down, grass entangled in his fingers, stabbing through the thin fabric of his glove like your hair did.

"Childe," he knows it's not you behind him, because you don't sound like a man nor a God and the way you called his name is more endearing, as if you were speaking a poem of two lovers but he turns anyways, and in his heart he hopes it's you.

But it's not, it's the Adeptus who held you close to his heart. Xiao's and Childe's relationship has never been good, simply because; a) their personalities clashed and b) they were on opposing sides but after your death, an unexplainable hatred grew in Xiao's heart for him.

( In Xiao's mind, Childe was the one who cared for his job more than you and heeded orders to end your life. ) Childe cracks a smile on his face, waving Xiao off before he says anything and pushes himself off your grave, "you don't need to say anything, I'm going," he says in a playful tone, as if he were leaving a party.

Xiao's eyebrows furrow, lips curling into a snarl when Childe walks past him, "despicable," he spits. ( But if Childe had asked you to, you would've taken your own life. )

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Episode 4

Okay, it’s been a hot minute since I was able to get to watching this episode, but here we go!

Great intro. Remember last time how Lan Wangji got to pick Wei Wuxian’s punishment? Well, it seems that Wei Wuxian was up late into the night working on transcribing and, surprise! he’s not done. And unless I’m mistaken, he’s actually spent days doing this, because when they first arrived, the salute ceremony was ten days away, and here we see Wei Wuxian is almost late for it. So by this point, I’d expect Wei Wuxian to have some serious hand cramps from all that calligraphy.

While I enjoy this comical moment and introduction to Nie Huaisang, I have to wonder why he thought bringing a bird into the salute ceremony was a good idea. Birds make noise—they tweet, flap their wings, try to escape cages! Anyway, it’s a goofy moment, but we got some cute expressions out of Xiao Zhan and some disdainful looks from Wang Yibo, so I can’t complain.

Xiao Zhan does a really good job of looking very young here at the beginning: his mannerisms, his facial expressions, how he carries himself, all really creates this feeling of being young and carefree. On the other side, Wang Yibo (who is six years younger than Xiao Zhan) does an equally good job of portraying someone more severe, mature, elitist. Lan Wangji has a reputation for being above people—for creating an aura that implies other people aren’t worth his time. In fact, he doesn’t even have any friends, as we found out in the last episode.

Wangxian really suit each other, even before they know each other at all: Wei Wuxian has this light, carefree nature to his character, while Lan Wangji’s is darker, more austere.

First of all, those fuckers. Gossiping about his lineage in full earshot of not only Jin Guangyao but also Jin Zixuan. This poor guy has practically clawed his way up to where he is, only to be an attendant to a clan that he has no blood relation to. His own father refuses to acknowledge him, his mother is gone, and these jerks gossiping—ugh! Hate it, regardless of who he grows to be later on in the series.

I really love Jin Guangyao and seeing how he changes from beginning to end is honestly a delight to watch. Like most of the characters, he seems so pure, so simple, such a kind person, and his relationship with Lan Xichen is something that you can’t devote enough time to. I think it gets shortchanged a little, but they only had 50 episodes, so I’ll take what I can get. Even in the book, I was left wanting to know more and see more about them (but I wouldn’t trade my wangxian content for that, so I guess I shouldn’t complain).

Last thing I want to say is, DIMPLES! Look at those adorable dimples!!

This is so insane—he literally set this guy on fire! How can he get away with this?! Anyway, enter Draco Malfoy—I mean, Wen Chao. Ahem. This series wants to throw a lot of villains at you right away: we already have Wen Ruohan, Xue Yang, potentially Wen Qing (we don’t know at this point), and now we have Wen Chao. They’re really pushing the Wen Clan is bad agenda. And as if being generally rude and probably mentally unstable isn’t bad enough, Wen Chao literally sets fire to one of the Gusu Lan Clan disciples, while the other disciple basically does nothing about it (why is that guy so useless? Doesn’t he have some spiritual energy to throw at that magic fire?).

Wen Chao is one of those characters that I think most people love to hate. He’s so evil, so horrible, yet charming, in a way. He is a villain and he’s proud of it, y’know? There’s no ambiguity here about his actions, which is kind of refreshing in a series filled with grey characters (and I love grey characters, don’t get me wrong).

Oh! And I just noticed while I was saving that screenshot that Wen Ning can’t even look at what’s going on. Very accurate to his character—non-confrontational, just wants to float along and do as he’s told. Really shows he’s under the thumb of the Wen Clan. I also like how Wen Qing is the one to put out the flames. You get to see that healer side of her early on.

Jiang Cheng and I had the same expression here—I really wanted to know what their gift to Lan Qiren was. If this is something in the book, well, then I’ve forgotten. Wei Wuxian and I have that trait in common: bad memory.

LWJ: Bro, can I hit him?

LXH: Nah, bro.

I missed this on my first viewing—or just forgot, most likely. Lan Wangji is so poised and collected, but also so defensive. He’s the brother who will be the first to go on the offensive if he sees something wrong happening, which I love. But I also love Lan Xichen’s chill attitude—yes, this guy is clearly a troublemaker, and he’s dissing our clan, but let’s settle this in an adult manner. According to the wiki, Lan Xichen is only a few years older than Lan Wangji, but you can see that he is a lot more mature in just those few years. Like I said in the last episode, he kind of had to be a parent to his younger brother and set an example of how you should behave. Of course, he’s also the clan leader, so he can’t really act like a spitfire.

Of course, if anyone is more defensive than Lan Wangji, it’s Wei Wuxian. Even though Lan Wangji has been a bit of a pain in the ass to him, Wei Wuxian still rushes to their defense. Even this early on, he’s started to form an attachment to the Gusu Lan Clan, whether he’s really aware of it or not. I’m wearing my wangxian goggles, but the “you offended the Jiang Clan because my brother was in the middle of his salute” kind of feels like an afterthought.

But of course it’s in Wei Wuxian’s character to be heroic like this—to rush to the defense of others, whether it’s asked for or not, and I don’t get the feeling that Lan Wangji disapproves of this. I think he takes note of this and future events, adding it to what he’s compiled of what makes Wei Wuxian tick. And by this time, I think he’s also decided to give Wei Wuxian another chance—Lan Xichen has planted the seed in his mind that he could be a good friend to Lan Wangji.

I know he’s not supposed to be gay.

I know.

But…come on. The way he’s looking at Lan Xichen right now—it’s a look certainly of deep admiration and respect. And there’s not a hint of jealously either, even though Jin Guangyao has every reason to be jealous of Lan Xichen: the respect he commands is great—he can even subdue the Wen Clan. But instead of hating Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao instead becomes close friends with him, very much a parallel to Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. Fascinating! These characters are so rich—so many layers, so much to talk about!

The first time I watched this, I was so annoyed with Nie Huaisang—any additional scenes that were added just drove me crazy. But now, having watched it all, I actually really appreciate these moments of comic relief, even the ones that are unique to CQL. As the series progresses, it gets darker and darker, and these lighter moments are honestly precious when you know what’s coming.

Someone explain to me why Jiang Yanli is making soup when meals are being provided to them? Yes, we know she takes care of her brothers, but why is it always her making soup? This is the first of many soup scenes, and at a certain point, it’s like beating a dead horse. I actually would have appreciated a little scene of them eating Gusu Lan Clan food and getting to see Wei Wuxian complain about it. I wouldn’t mind a disapproving look from Lan Wangji at overhearing it either.

Yeah, remember when I was saying Lan Wangji was taking note of the good things Wei Wuxian did? Well, he’s also very aware of how naughty he is. At the beginning, Wei Wuxian’s good traits are heavily outweighed by his transgressions, though, by comparison, they are minor ones. It’s ironic that later on Lan Wangji will overlook major transgressions without a second thought. Shows what a deep relationship they are able to cultivate.

I feel like, in a way, this is Wei Wuxian’s way of apologizing for offending him earlier—like, I’m being cute, Lan Zhan! Obviously it only makes Lan Wangji more annoyed, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Wei Wuxian is really testing boundaries here. He has such a fixation on Lan Wangji, one that definitely annoys Jiang Cheng (and makes him jealous to boot, in my opinion), but it works to his advantage, since Lan Wangji can’t really keep his eyes off of Wei Wuxian either. And the circumstances that follow just keep drawing them together.

After Wei Ying gets told to leave the lecture and go to the Library Pavilion, he doesn’t look at anyone except Lan Wangji. I wonder if he wants to know Lan Wangji’s reaction—is it disappointment, anger, something else? Whatever it is, he wants Lan Wangji’s attention—that’s what he seeks above anything else. You could argue that he doesn’t look at Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli because he knows they’re disappointed or upset with him, and I think that’s fair. And maybe he doesn’t seek their attention because he knows he has it—but he doesn’t feel like he’s gotten Lan Wangji’s attention here and that bothers him.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 |

[ronnytherandom]

I started Writing My Thoughts On Things Again, I'm Sorry

15/8/2021:

Mass Effect Legendary Edition (Whole trilogy w/ all dlcs, Adept Class, Hardcore difficulty, 68 Hours):

Still brilliant! I adore this series. The first Mass Effect was one of the first games I ever played back in 2010 and Mass Effect 2 is one of the games I’ve played the most accruing several hundred hours over multiple playthrough from 2010 onwards, while Mass Effect 3 is a game I greatly appreciated but have more mixed feelings towards. Retrospectively as much as I liked the first Mass Effect, I did not nearly appreciate it enough back in the day. For a first entry in a new IP it is incredibly fleshed out with interesting Lore, an intriguing story and a cool galaxy to explore. I appreciate its combat far more now than I did back then but would still argue it is relatively weak in comparison to more modern titles and its own successors. Though the VA is rough in some places it is excellent where it matters, especially in the case of Sovereign whose iconic dialogue on Virmire is etched into my brain. A key element of the first mass effect I felt was sorely missing from the later entries was its exploration. While the galaxy grew routinely larger no game after the first had a drivable Mako, a vehicle I adore, and further lacked the opportunity to land on and explore the terrain of alien worlds for resources and side missions which I feel lends a lot to the atmosphere of the setting and could be made even more compelling using updated technology and a larger selection of assets and interiors which might have emerged from the higher budget successors. As it is I appreciate its inclusion in the first game. Mass Effect was also my first encounter with impactful choices in a video game and this is certainly something I appreciate but leads me to a major criticism specifically targeting the dialogue wheel layout as it is strange to me how you can puzzle out all of these possible dialogue outcomes but put exactly all of the positive outcomes behind the Upper Left dialogue option. While this is less pronounced in the First entry as the Renegade dialogue fills roughly the same purpose while sounding more badass, it becomes truer throughout the series as renegade options routinely just become nasty and exclusionary.

Mass Effect 2 innovates in some key ways which I have grown to appreciate more in the past 20 hours of play than I did when it launched. Primarily, its focus on characters and your relationships to them. Barring a couple of notable exceptions I found myself greatly invested in every single member of the Normandy crew and I think it’s a remarkable feat that each crewmate could be written to be so sympathetic, relatable and interesting in a world so full of appreciable elements. I would go into specific examples but id end up listing every character except Miranda and Jacob. This of course plays well into the Suicide Mission narrative which is perhaps my favourite overarching plot within the trilogy as it incorporates not just all of these incredible characters and plays upon your investment in them but also relies on the threat of both the Reapers and Collectors which are two excellently designed enemies which I find significantly more compelling than Saren and the Geth or Cerberus and the Reaper Husk Armies. Mass Effect 2 has a powerful horror element composed of the Collectors phobic horror and the reapers cosmic horror and it does wonders for the game’s atmosphere. I remember at this moment the Collector soundtrack which, like the rest of the soundtrack is absolutely excellent. Inasmuch as I would criticise it from a purely musical perspective for being simple at times and perhaps overly repetitive it perfectly fits the camp space opera that is mass effect. Galaxy Map and Suicide Mission are absolute bangers. I would hesitate to call the combat great. Playing the game as a weapon heavy class is superior, I’d argue as even with an armour build dedicated to decreasing ability cooldown it is too long to adequately utilise the powers of ability heavy classes like the adept. Additionally, ability play feels far more limited than in the game’s predecessor due to the limitation of this games skill tree elements which are frankly a step too far in simplifying the interface. It doesn’t massively affect enjoyment of the game but I couldn’t help but note every time I visited the abilities menu how much I missed Mass Effects abilities menu. So while I would say Mass Effect maintains a very well balanced game with regards to combat, roleplay and story, Mass Effect 2 eschews combat and mechanical roleplay in favour of an excellent story. Additionally while lacking an exploration aspect the more structured side-missions found by scanning planets throughout the galaxy create a lot of fun moments and interesting gameplay, emblematic of the fact that mission design vastly improves between this game and its predecessor.

Mass Effect 3 goes some way to resolve its predecessor’s imbalance as the majority of the game possesses enhanced combat, a much better abilities mechanic and an excellent story. First the addition of more mobility, loadout and engagement options benefits the combat greatly, while the addition of more complex enemy types than previous games pushes you to fully utilise these new options. A massive reduction in ability cooldown combined with liberal cooldown reduction bonuses in the skill tree means that abilities are very useful and versatile and you generally feel very powerful. Sometimes too powerful if you’re thinking from a balancing standpoint but given it’s a single player game this criticism is much diminished and being powerful is fun regardless. The skill tree system in this game forms a synthesis between its predecessors’ systems and comes out the better for combining a regular sense of empowerment with interesting choices within your own character build. All of this contributes to a much-improved combat experience, especially over Mass Effect 2. This also lends itself to the old multiplayer system which I honestly enjoyed when it launched (who cannot love a playable biotic Volus?) and feel is sorely lacking from this legendary edition. I would argue the only real problem with the multiplayer was requiring a player to engage with it in order to achieve the best story outcome; the actual multiplayer gameplay was thoroughly enjoyable and it gave players the opportunity to experience combat as an STG agent or a Krogan Warlord which were both fulfilling experiences from my memory. The aforementioned story is truly excellent and successfully builds off events in previous games but primarily succeeds due to Biowares exceptional character writing which persists from Mass Effect 2. Even in the case of its worst side mission content but especially in its primary missions the stakes and outcome of events are thoroughly compelling and the involvement of beloved Normandy crewmates is bound to incite intense emotions. This is possibly the only game that makes me cry multiple times throughout a normal playthrough. Unfortunately my goodwill often runs out when it comes to consider the ultimate ending of this series which I do not approve of. I admit there are mitigating factors: you should not play the mass effect series for the culmination of its plot. This series lives and dies with its characters and all of the major character arcs reach satisfactory endings before the final moments of Mass Effect 3, so the final moments have no real meaning as the thematic purpose of the series is achieved by galvanising the galaxy and uniting all these disparate races into a single force to fight the Reapers. Thematically the game is a success but the extent to which it utilises the choices the player has made, upon which the series builds its reputation, is limited in scope. This can likely be laid at the feet of the leaks of the original story ahead of the games launch which pushed the developers to create a new ending to avoid spoilers, but the quality of that ending is poor as it boils all the choices made throughout the series down to selecting the colour of a space laser. To make an odd comparison, this is why I think Game of Thrones’ and Mass Effect’s endings are different kinds of bad. Mass Effect reaches a fully satisfying conclusion in the moments immediately after launching the final mission, whereas Game of Thrones built its whole series asking the question “Who Will Sit The Iron Throne” With the final answer being “Actually, no one” after slogging through multiple series which did not live up to the quality of the first. Mass Effect answers its dramatic question of “Can Shepard Unite The Galaxy Against The Reapers” satisfactorily following sixty hours of excellent content and the colour of the space laser doesn’t actually matter. It just hurts to think that the finale could’ve been so much grander and more interesting. I would recommend the games, the disappointment of the finale doesn’t even come close to outweighing the grandeur that is the rest of the experience of Mass Effect 3, let alone the whole series.

There are only a few pieces of content I had not encountered prior to this Legendary edition playthrough. The Mass Effect DLC Bring Down The Sky is fun in that it adds an interesting combat experience with incredible stakes and immerses you in a stellar scale event, but the experience is very short. As part of the legendary edition I recommend it but having to pay extra for it at its time of launch I would have found it disappointing. Mass Effect 2s Overlord DLC is very good, introducing fun combat encounters, an opportunity to operate the fairly fun Hammerhead vehicle (even if it doesn’t live up to the Glory of the Mako) and explore a nice open environment with a truly haunting ending which is a kind of non-choice but it is gratifying to make that choice anyway. Additionally the visuals in the final station when interacting with the VI elements are very nice. The Arrival DLC is also quite fun, with a pseudo stealth section to open it, something which I believe occurs nowhere else in the series. The general element of operating solo is quite novel for mass effect as I believe outside of this moment, the opening of the Citadel DLC and the final moments of Mass Effect 3 there is no point where you fight alone. The indoctrinated nature of the project team does not come as a shock but regardless the dlc is enjoyable as a combat experience and the scale of destruction shown necessary to even slightly inconvenience the reapers lends a lot to the scale of their threat. I do not believe I played any DLCs in Mass Effect 3 before, insofar as I did not consider From Ashes DLC content as it was already on the disk and all buying the day one dlc did was activate it. Leviathan is very interesting from a lore perspective and does interesting things with its investigative process but I find it to be a relatively passive and uninteresting experience for the most part. Omega was more my style with a lot of good combat and interesting new enemies and a bit of bombast besides but still left me largely unmoved. Citadel was excellent but mostly for its “endgame” content rather than its story content. Despite featuring many hilarious moments throughout the actual plot it failed to interest me but I was definitely there for all of the fun character moments and the party is absolutely hilarious.

Ultimately a hearty recommendation but with tempered expectations for the finale.

Deaths Door (True Ending, 13.7 hours):

A Delight. Deaths Door is a charming little game about a bird that stabs things and I love it. It is incredibly impressive that this was made by a team composed of two people. The gameplay is fun in all regards. Navigation is a good time especially when all of the environments are lovely and full of personality. Obstacles come mainly in the form of puzzles and these are at a sweet spot between ease and frustration without being at all complex. Combat could’ve used a bit more work, primarily to create more meaningful distinctions between weapons or add a little depth, but it is still engaging and good fun. While the main bosses are challenging and satisfying to defeat, I worry over the side bosses; perhaps something could’ve been done to make them more distinct from one another? But a small gripe. I like the world, the aforementioned environments are well realised, the general aesthetic is artful and distinct and the story is good if slightly sparse. One notable element is the dialogue which is very good with a quick wit. The finale of the main game has the right amount of spectacle and weight while the endgame is cool and fantastical, with an ample supply of secrets and collectibles to find. Over all the music is incredible, soundtrack full of absolute bangers. I really enjoyed completing this game and I’d recommend it to anyone who’s into action adventure and souls-like games.

The Bad Batch (season 1):

This was Allright. To open I cannot overstate how good the animation and art of this series is. It is routinely beautiful and well-choreographed. Visually there are no complaints. The problems begin with the opening episode which I feel overpromised on a relatively dark take on the Star Wars universe by immediately dropping us into an Order 66 plot full of death, danger, brainwashing and the threat of an emergent empire. Now granted this series never explicitly promises that all of this would continue but I enjoyed these elements of the first episode and I was dissatisfied by their limited usage throughout the rest of the show. This is not to say I disliked the show, I did enjoy the characters who are all good fun, and most of the plots were good. This series I felt had a lot of filler episodes, which I’d simply describe as episodes I enjoyed less due to underwhelming plot or conflict, but they were still enjoyable despite what id perceive as a lesser quality. The show also “suffers” from what I’d called Star Wars Syndrome of Filonitis which is how Everything Must Be Interconnected, with regular cameos from extended universe characters which I feel is beginning to get a bit much. These features feel to me more often like nostalgia grabs rather than organically featuring a character in service of the plot and development. For example, I appreciate the Captain Rex feature as that served to highlight the inhibitor chip problem and drive the characters to seek a solution, however I appreciated Rafa and Trace’s feature less both because I’m less attached to those characters (especially Rafa) but also because the episode didn’t serve any particular purpose or create any particular set piece which couldn’t have been achieved without those characters. This is a similar issue I have with The Mandalorian, I adored season one as it was relatively self-contained and only featured vague or subtler references to the wider canon: to contrast season two is full of cameos from the wider universe sometimes for no reason other than to have a cameo when those roles could easily have been filled with new and creative content which doesn’t rely upon nostalgia to make something interesting. Ultimately Bad Batch is worth watching for the characters and the good episodes, it is fun and entertaining, it just has its issues.

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 1: The Phantom Blood:

Its uh, its not good. Now that’s a very broad statement, as to assess this show critically at all is to take it far more seriously than you should, but to be more even handed the show certainly has a bunch of fun elements. Only from a story perspective, there isn’t really that much there; and from a pacing perspective it needs to be seen to be believed. I’m certain that if you condensed the show down to a reasonable size for the amount of content it has, you’d probably have a movie with a two-hour runtime at most which would be quite enjoyable but on a whole this first part wastes about 80% of its time on overlong drawn-out internal monologues and the dilated timeframes of the show’s fights. It also has an annoying habit of overemphasizing the weight of a moment or the genius of a characters unexpected action usually with no less than three people commenting on any slight manoeuvre which ruins the pacing beyond belief. Now I understand this is a staple of the Jojo series, only part 1 handles it very poorly in comparison to later parts. The fighting is especially hindered by this as most actual combat usually involves only four or five punches but they tend to take twenty minutes getting to each one. Additionally, Johnathan Joestar is pretty boring as a character with no notable qualities aside from being good both morally and at fighting. The intrigue of the stone mask is cool but this part deals in that very little. Like I say though, Part 1 is still fun to watch if you can disengage your brain and admire the potent meme quality of the series. It is not “good” from a critical perspective but it is incredibly amusing and the campness gives it a degree of charm. If you just want to watch a bunch of beefy men shout at each other and perform magic punches this is a good time. Speedwagon, despite being the worst offender of the “Explain Everything Twice and Ruin the Pacing” category, is still entertaining for the awful accent and endearing character. He’s also definitely in love with Johnathan and I will not be taking questions on that. Baron Zeppeli has a cool hat. Theres a lot of fun to be had as the show embraces the weirdness of everything that’s going on. So, check it out, it might just be a So-Bad-Its-Good Masterpiece.

300 (film):

This film was not so great in my eyes. I think there was one particular shot of the landscapes around Sparta which I felt was visually cool but everything else about the film lacked quality for me, barring practical effects which have aged significantly better than the graphical effects. The visuals are largely uninspiring, the washed-out colour pallet doesn’t help. Perhaps the dialogue was amusing at release but for me it’s all been memed to death. I can’t say any of the performances are particularly compelling, nice to see Magneto and Faramir though. The action could’ve been good and there are certainly moments where it has impact, but the constant application of slow motion I feel reduces the sense of power that should be there, like watching people fight on the moon. Ultimately, I can’t stomach it for two primary reasons: Historical inaccuracy and Racism, which feed into each other. The values of the Spartans do not accurately reflect ideas that historical Spartans held to and I must ask why? Historical accuracy is the default state, so to usurp those ideas in favour of others means the author of the graphic novel Frank Miller and director Zach Snyder replaced those ideas with purpose, in order to make the film more appealing to a mass audience or to express their own ideas perhaps? And the values they chose for the Spartans were freedom, justice and democracy which were things the slaving and monarchical Spartans did not believe in at least in the modern sense. This reeks of an imposition of the propagandised values of western nations on a historical society. This in itself would not be so much of an issue without the demonisation and perversion of the Achaemenid empire and the peoples therein. To establish the primary conflict as one of Civilised white westerners against barbarous non-white easterners, when historically the conflict was between two nations of a broadly similar heritage both possessing facets of good and evil, in the early 2000s? It feels as though some reactionary interpretations of the War on Terror have simply been recreated here with classical history as window dressing. Add to that reactionary attachment to the battle of Thermopylae as a representation of the western world’s struggle against the eastern world, in addition to other more problematic interpretations, and this film plays straight into extreme right-wing ideas of race. Cannot recommend, there’s a lot more better things you could be watching.

18/08/2021: Darth Vader (2015) comic (incl. Vader Down event):

This was really cool. The first comic I’ve ever actually read so I don’t have much frame of reference but I certainly enjoyed this. It was compelling, I’ve blitzed through this whole run in a single day. I think it serves a valuable purpose of demonstrating Vader’s potential and development between Episodes IV and V, as well as the nature of internal conflicts within the Empire. A side note, it is amusing that Palpatine identifies infighting as a factor in the fall of the Sith Empire and yet encourages it for his own political purposes anyway.  I felt that the art and style was very good and fit well with the Star Wars aesthetic, though I couldn’t say if it is truly excellent or just standard: it certainly wasn’t bad, though I think a few designs such as Dr Aphra’s ship were hard to read as it were. Speaking of, I think characters new and old were well portrayed. The titular Vader is unmistakably the same character as appears in the classic trilogy, similarly for Han, Luke and Leia etc. And it was a pleasure to see Chewbacca absolutely destroy someone. The aforementioned Aphra I thought was fine but she lacks distinction to my mind, the real star was Triple Zero and by extension Beetee who I thought were excellent comic relief in addition to being a genuine threat, something I can’t necessarily say I felt with regard to the antagonists. This latter part doesn’t matter overmuch, I think the purpose of these antagonists was more to present Vader with pressure to fulfil his personal goals rather than actually oppose him and they work well in that regard, but are unmemorable beyond their basic attributes. What I think this comic does particularly well is create a kind of puzzle narrative and its almost thrilling at moments when Vader’s plots might be discovered. As a result of this I am looking forward to reading more comics in future.

The Suicide Squad (2021): Highly enjoyable! A big step up for the suicide squad as a franchise and a lot more fun, playing into a brighter and more humorous genre than its predecessor to good effect; This time with good editing, soundtrack, direction… well good everything in comparison. I enjoyed all of the characters and their acting particularly the rivalry between Peacemaker and Bloodsport and Margot Robbie is still fantastic as Harley. They all pale before King however, who is endearing beyond belief and a lot of fun to boot. The “villain” if that term is applicable is very interesting and actually threatening, no mere beam of light into the sky! And the willingness to engage in more mature elements such as gore and character morality is of immense benefit, serving to distinguish it from generally more childish superhero media and reach towards more interesting themes around colonisation, foreign intervention, America and such. Only a reach towards however as I don’t think it ultimately says anything beyond “This thing, kinda bad and dumb”. As I saw noted, it observes the theme but doesn’t comment on it which is a shame as that would bring it all together quite neatly. I feel it can drag a little at times and sometimes the dialogue and specifically its humour don’t hit right but the rest is of such quality that it hardly matters. It looks good, sounds good and offers a chance to engage in a little mindless and bloody violence. I hope Harley keeps the javelin.

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27/08/2021: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 2: Battle Tendency: TW: Mention of Nazism, Discussion of Sexism

This is MUCH better. Part 2 covers most of the problems I had with Part 1. The Monologues are less egregious so the pacing is much improved; the lore is fully integrated into the story and creates a genuinely good narrative and Joseph is a much more compelling and interesting protagonist with a quirky and entertaining personality. The Pillar Men are excellent villains and the fights are fully engaging. Even when you know that Joseph will pull out a “And next you’ll say” twist at the end of a losing fight it’s still surprising simply by dint of the strange and wacky solutions he creates. And these adventures are even more bizarre, playing into the weird camp of the series which works so well. All in all, the quality is excellent here HOWEVER there are some highly problematic elements. The show being set in the 1930s is a neat part of the travelling through time factor of the series but when you’re globetrotting around Europe you need some solution to the problem of Nazis popping up everywhere and this show does not provide one, and fails so drastically to offer even a slightly critical perspective on the fascist characters. The noble sacrifice of Von Stroheim and his later resurrection and heroism serve to idolise a Patriotic German Nazi Officer, which is not good, and this unchallenged perspective on an Actual Nazi is troubling especially when the character himself is an unrepentant mass murderer. Additionally, the show has a horrible attitude towards women, who exist almost exclusively for sex appeal and romantic interest in this show. Lisa Lisa does demonstrate ability and character but when presented with genuine combat is relegated first as a bit of eye candy during the fight with Esidesi (notably eye candy for Her Own Son) and later as a Damsel in Distress during her fight with Kars. Women are frequently used as objects in this part; Caesar Zeppeli uses women as props by controlling them with his Hamon powers and Suzi Q exists only to be rescued from Esidesi and then to be romanced by Jojo. It’s pretty ridiculous to be honest. I am informed that this improves over the course of the series but as for this part in particular it is a lot of fun just so long as you can ignore some incredibly troubling portrayals.

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13/09/2021: Rick and Morty Season 4:

There is ultimately not much to say as Season 4 is simply more Rick and Morty and operates as such. It is good, even very good. It’s still very funny. Its voice acting is still the pinnacle of such work. It is still smart and has a lot of interesting ideas, only not to the extent of the copypasta fan boys. Its sci-fi universe is cool and its design and aesthetic are still excellent. I feel the show has passed a threshold however as there’s only so much time you can spend on the “dysfunctional family is dysfunctional theme”. I hope season 5 proves me wrong once I get to it, but season 4 is fun and I’d recommend it all the same, it’s just more Rick and Morty and I think that’s enough.

Shang-Chi and the Ten Rings: Spectacular! Very easily amongst the best if not The Best Superhero Movie (aside from Into the Spiderverse). To begin with complaints as they are limited, the colour grading was a bit dark in a couple of the fight scenes and in some moments of the climactic fight the CG effects are a little Too Much and distract from the central action of Shang-Chi, Xialing and a Dragon owning the shit out of a multiversal super spectre, which incidentally is fucking epic.  Additionally, the standard MCU comic relief dialogue is a little meh at times but what’s new there? They still need to get a handle on that, especially because this film was really strong when it was serious. As much as I love Ben Kingsley’s Trevor Slattery, he was just a tad much here. Aside from a few moments of weak dialogue however the rest of the film is excellent. Acting is good, effects are good, the film is quite beautiful primarily once Ta Lo is reached and the score is bangin. I appreciate most of all the fight sequences which to me look well-choreographed with interesting arenas which were always appropriate to demonstrate the characters abilities; the sequences serve to develop character and plot at key moments also. The way the camera is handled during the fights is also a big step up, with wide perspective and long shots rather than the snappy close shots of old which serve to really show off that choreography and don’t muddy your understanding of the flow of combat. There is a good thematic line throughout the film of reconciling the bad and the good of your familial and personal history, to understand yourself better and channel that into developing and achieving your ambitions and I adore how that ties in with Shang-Chi and Wenwu’s final confrontation due to the nature and treatment of the Ten Rings themselves. They are a very interesting fantastical element especially once Shang-Chi acquires them and the way that he utilises them create a very cool combat style I can’t wait to see more of, even considering that their full potential is yet to be unlocked. I additionally approve of how they have been differentiated from their comic counterparts which to my understanding are just slightly weaker infinity stones; thus, a one-to-one reproduction would’ve been a boring mistake to make. It’s a fantastic film, go see it.

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26/09/2021: Sable (20 hours, 99% complete) Sable has the makings of an absolutely fantastic game, it just has a few hiccups and hurdles to deal with. Thankfully most can probably be dealt with by patch as there’s nothing fundamentally wrong with the game; but a game should never be released in a state where it needs a patch to function normally. This game is incredibly buggy. Probably one of the buggiest games I’ve ever played at launch, and I preordered Skyrim. Most of my complaints are with the menus, which simply do not work properly sometimes, but there are other documented issues with collision detection and weird bike movement among others including one annoying persistent issue with the soundtrack being replaced by random ‘bong’ noises. For these reasons I cannot recommend the game Right Now until it is patched or if it is on a significant sale. However, once the bugs are fixed this game will be a stunning achievement. The story is good and leads to powerful emotional moments, aided along by an excellent atmospheric soundtrack and beautiful visuals. The style and colour give this game an exceptional look, though diminished by a fairly rapid day/night cycle. I understand that this creates a visual contrast to make the daytime feel more vibrant and impressive, but I would also hold the sun still in the sky if that were an option. The world is well built, with interesting lore and cool design work. Varied environments show off a range of colourful landscape all with their own distinct atmospheres and landmarks which are good both for navigation and exploration, this being the bulk of the game. Exploring these environments is satisfying for curiosities sake but also offers collectible Chums that I adore and an intriguing backstory and world history to consider. Riding a hoverbike is cool and fun, and the customisability is nice though I would take issue with the “balancing” of bike parts as the best bike can be acquired only a few hours in and must be bought, where bike parts earned through long quest chains pale in comparison. This annoys me as I believe players should be rewarded more for great deeds than for acquiring currency, besides which the quest bikes look cooler. This is of little importance however as the game is a very casual and chill experience, keeping an excellent balance where it is not strictly challenging but does maintain your focus and attention. This world is full of strangeness and a little sci-fi magic; though I would argue it could use more of this I think that would threaten to overwhelm the player when even this world’s most mundane elements are still stunningly cool. I think a thick coat of bugs covers what is ultimately a magnificent game with many cool things to explore and even marred by its worst features I still had a great time playing it.

27/09/2021: The Matrix

Brilliant. A very cerebral action movie which definitely earns its place as an iconic work of cinema and its clear to see why its influence is so widespread. Fantastic action with a clear and open perspective which utilises the interesting and dynamic cinematography that runs throughout the movie. I particularly enjoy how over the top the fights are in terms of environmental destruction and gestures as a whole, with a great deal of emphasis added by practical effects which I enjoy. Cool characters, good dialogue and excellent performances across the cast. And, an interesting world well-built and designed. The robots particularly are quite intimidating and I like their arthropodal form. All of the design works well to create the feeling of a greasy industrial post apocalypse which contrasts sharply with the boring homogenous simulation, the latter having its own value as a setting due to its familiarity which would’ve been especially prevalent when this film first released. I love the soundtrack, especially the final feature of Rage, but most of all I love how deeply you can read into this film and its meaning. Having watched many videos about it I was primed on the trans allegory going in and it is very clearly a present part of the narrative before even considering the context around the Wachowski sisters and their own experience. It is a very interesting part of the story and plays well into other themes built around deconstructing the illusions pressed on us by our society, drawing strong parallels between the struggles of living as a trans person and fighting against an imperialist capitalist society. It is worth watching for any of its constituent parts but together they form a magnificent work of art.

28/09/2021: Star Wars: Visions

The series is a bit of a mixed bag. It definitely overpromises with its first episode which is of a remarkably distinct style, is incredibly cool and has great wacky moments in addition to tasteful call-backs to the wider Star Wars canon. I love the umbrella sabre, it’s a fantastic idea and there needs to be more of them. From there a few episodes are fantastic, The Elder and the final episode, and id rank the Ninth jedi just below them, but the rest of the series is definitely not to my taste. The wide variety of styles on show are all fantastic and the animation is universally very good, just some of the plots are more childish than I would appreciate and the rest are simply not engaging for me to the point that despite a great deal of spectacle occurring I would often be distracted. It’s worth a look if you’re into animation and unique takes on star wars but I find generally lacking.

Django Unchained (2nd Watch) TW: Discussion of Racism and Slavery

Red Flag: Tarantino Movie is good. Very good. Stellar performances from Jamie Foxx, Kerry Washington, Leo Di Caprio, Christoph Waltz and everyone else in the movie to be frank; a special note for the trivia about Leo Di Caprio’s cut up hand during the dining room scene, a lot of respect for a man who can keep working through that kind of injury. We can go through a Tarantino Checklist say the film is well shot with beautiful environments; has excellent and witty dialogue with good attention to detail and mannerism; and finally has great and gory action which does not flinch from terrible injury and really appeals to a perverse bloodlust that seems to crop up from time to time in normal people. Strangely enough however, I could not recall if Tarantino indulges in his predilection for feet here. This film does indulge in Tarantino’s other predilection however and that’s the N-word, but here I respect it. Unlike his non-period works, the use of the N-word is a facet of slavery just as chains, whips and plantations are and slavery is the subject of this film which seeks to be historically authentic. If anything, the absence of the N-word would be very wrong in this case despite being the project of a white man as without it the film would lack the context of a key form of oppression that still exists today. I think Django does an excellent job documenting and commenting on the institution as it existed in the pre-war period. Django experiences every level of status a black person would encounter in this setting: first a slave, then a freedman, a black slaver and finally a Liberator and the final message of the film is that slavery deserved to be destroyed and any argument made for its return is horseshit which is kind of a “Duh” statement but with the state of modern politics and the state of education in the US it’s something that needs reiterating. You can interpret this beyond the bounds of slavery itself in addition, by arguing that there are existing powers in this world which seek to discriminate based on skin colour amongst other factors and create oppressed minorities for the benefit of a wealthy few with power and should the systems that create this environment be completely destroyed it would be cause for celebration. Beyond this I particularly enjoyed the historical authenticity of the environments, of the very varied biomes of the wilder parts of the US at the time, and the contemporary outfits especially King Schultz’ coat which I desire more than any item of clothing I’ve ever seen. The film is good at building suspense both in the moment to moment and through longer story arcs, particularly the second act, but I do feel like the 2nd act lulls a little, perhaps spends slightly too long reaching its climax. This is a great spectacle of a film which looks and sounds fantastic, puts excellent performances on show, tells a great story and has quite a bit of meaning bundled into it.

29/09/2021: The Road to El Dorado (Unfinished)

Despite not finishing it I think this film is actually really good. It certainly has a few elements which don’t fully gel with me but I enjoyed my time with it; I only felt like I should really be doing something else and that I wasn’t fully engaged with it, potentially as I’m not keen on cons and high stakes acting as it feels like a form of vicarious embarrassment for me which makes me immensely uncomfortable. Personal hindrances aside most everything about this film is excellent, I loved the animation and the very colourful world. The characters were fun, the voice acting good, the constant horniness was a great bonus also. I take issue with the music, much as it’s not my right to criticise Elton John, I feel it would’ve been better fully incorporated into the film. I enjoy animated musicals more when said music is diegetic and I think them beginning to employ non-diegetic music is part of what led to their downfall, outside of market saturation. Additionally, I was not a fan of The Trail we Blaze, just not a song that worked for me. I also appreciate the integration of 3d and 2d animation here as I felt the styles were reconciled better here than in most movies, especially for the time. I might take issue with what seems to be a plot about two Spanish men of the colonial age coming to central America and “enlightening” its people through humanitarian acts and music as that would reflect some troubling attitudes but I hold out hope that by the end of the film they decide to come clean about the lie, return the gold and help defend El Dorado from Cortez and his troops. Its enjoyable, I don’t feel drawn to finishing it though.

 30/09/2021: Hunters Moon, Ghost

Here’s a new one, music reviews. This single is pretty good I enjoy it a lot. Opens slow and gentle and rapidly builds into some strong rock with a very 80s feel which scans with Ghosts whole historical rock and metal style they’ve always employed but have gone in extra hard on since Prequelle. The lead riff the track opens on is really nice and I would love to have seen it explored further, but the heavier style that ramps up progressively as the song continues is still great climaxing on the 9/4 post chorus riff which goes hard as fuck and I love that bit especially. It feels like it would be spectacular to witness it live. The bridge is a moment I’m not so keen on, the initial bass work is a little bare bone and overly repetitive but it definitely picks up once the guitar and vocals come in, even if just for the final moments. The final chorus leads into a good finale though I think it’ll serve better on an album version with a transition into another track, as I usually prefer to be fair. Technically I enjoy all of the different sounds and effects employed on all the instruments, especially in that leading riff, all of which are played well with good time. The vocals are great as usual. It’s a great track, I feel it was maybe a little short and could’ve explored some of its musical ideas or given them a bit more time to breathe; perhaps less time could have been given to overrepresented elements like the bridge and given over to work more into the very atmospheric leading riff but this is still a hard and heavy rock track and I enjoy it greatly.

[fenheart87]

Long Lost to the Present

This is Part One of my gift for the Naruto/Boruto exchange! Part Two is about half done, I just wanted to get the bulk out before our deadline. Happy Holidays! @whynoteswhispered

Sasuke mentally checked through his belongings a final time before letting out a small sigh, his mother had been tight lipped about where exactly they would be taking their winter family vacation so if he needed anything, he would just buy it. Truthfully, he was prepared for pretty much any weather they would encounter over the two weeks. The youngest Uchiha zipped the suitcase and set it on the ground, clicking the button to release the handle and grabbing his backpack with his laptop and other electronics to swing over one shoulder. A final glance determined Sasuke had everything he would need and with a barely contained sigh, he made his way down stairs where everyone would meet before loading up and leaving.

"Sasuke! Are you ready dear?" Mikoto asked, passing off her luggage to her husband. "Oh, I can't wait till we get there!"

"I'm ready." Sasuke nodded to his father and brother, taking his turn to load his suitcase into the SUV they rented. "Now if only you would tell us where we are going…"

“So, I was talking with Kushina," dread settled instantly into his stomach at the mention of the redhead, "and we agreed that it has been sometime since we last shared a holiday together and we will be spending our first week with them at Jiraiya’s house in the mountains then continue to our cabin for the other week."

"It has been a while since we’ve seen Minato and Kushina… I wonder if she ever got better at cooking." Fugaku said gruffly, a tiny sliver of humor shone through that statement.

"Hopefully we can see Naruto too, no one is sure what he’s been up to these days." Itachi chimed in, staring none too discreetly at Sasuke.

That statement didn't seem like the Naruto Sasuke knew and for a moment he had to remind himself that they had parted ways years ago. While the blond always said Sasuke was his best friend, the raven was unsure until he changed schools what exactly Naruto meant to him. That first year apart had been hell, every time a notification came through or a phone would ring set him on edge so badly, he withdrew into nothing but music only from his iPod.

"I wouldn't have the slightest idea."

"Ah, that's right." Itachi words caused the younger's feathers to ruffle but before the boy could engage in their passive aggressive argument their mother stepped between them.

"Seven days boys, I do hope I will be bringing home two sons and not leaving any to be adopted by the Namikazes." The warning was very real under her cheerful tone and both of her children backed down, following her and their father out to the car.

Sasuke was dreading this trip now, his dread easily outweighed any excitement he had previously. What was supposed to be a simple holiday trip with his family, including his ever-busy father, was now turning into a nightmare from hell. The raven was sure his elder brother had to have some hand in it. The first family trip in a handful of years and now Sasuke would have to suffer the distracting presence of one Naruto Uzumaki or risk upsetting his mother.

"You don't look excited like I thought you would…" Itachi spoke casually, face showing nothing of his amusement unless you knew how to find the slight look in his eyes.

"What am I supposed to be excited for exactly?”

“Aw, you’re hurting his feelings and we haven’t even left yet. How cruel little brother.”

“Itachi, be nice! Sasuke is finally home and I know while he loves me,” Mikoto smiled brightly and pulled her younger son into a hug, “you being mean is exactly why we cut this from two weeks to just one.”

Sasuke lingered in a half hug from his mother, a feeling of warmth that always accompanied the action sank into his tense form and relaxed the harsh lines. Identical eyes locked into a staring contest for a long moment before their father snorted and drew their attention.

"The drive is a long one, if you can't handle it then you can stay and keep the office in order." He advised, making his point with a glare before entering the car.

"Truce little brother?"

"Hn." This ride was going to be a long one indeed.

The weather seemed suspended, the snow twinkling as the sun was reflected off it and the air mild for this time of year in the mountains. Sasuke tried to remember if he had ever been to Jiraiya’s cabin before but was coming up with nothing but bits of when Naruto had shared his summer adventures.

"Sasuke! How was your summer? I bet it wasn't cooler than mine! Peavy sage and I found this pond and there's these Sakura trees and in the water there's a bunch of tadpoles! We had to keep cleaning out the petals, I feel like my back has aged twenty years."

He had to rouse himself from memory lane as they pulled up the long drive. The logs were well kept and the cabin seemed quite spacious, hopefully it would be easier to avoid a certain blond. There were various trees in bloom or dormancy, nothing like the well-kept grounds of the Uchiha main house. Sasuke could certainly see the frog motif with the at times gaudy decor and after hearing stories for years, it wasn't as bad as he was expecting.

"Looks like he did get a key after all." Itachi mused quietly, almost quiet enough for his younger brother to miss it. At the look of inquiry, he continued lightly, "Jiraiya has been having some… Extra responsibilities as of late and wasn't sure he would be here when we arrived. The good news is the house has been cleaned and aired out for us already."

"Do you remember which room is yours Sasuke?"

"It's the one to the left of the gar-" he had to pause, that was Naruto's usual room and he no longer was welcome to share like they had always planned. The silence was heavy for a moment, never had Sasuke wished things had turned out differently more than at that particular moment. "No, I do not."

"It's next to mine, we have a wonderful view of the mountains." Itachi offered, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving a light squeeze for reassurance.

"I'm fine." The younger shook off the hand and climbed out of the car, pulling his phone out as an excuse to ignore his family.

The sliding door opened, the wooden panels that made up the shade clattering angrily. A large box made its way out first then the blond holding it, carefully stepping out to the deck and nearly dropping the box with a curse. With a deep all body sigh, Naruto stood up straight and raised his face to the sun, the natural light highlighting his figure. Sasuke stated for a long moment, trying to blend the young gangly knucklehead he remembered with this adult version complete with an attractive solid build.

"Oh my, is that really my little sunflower?! Naruto, I did not give you permission to grow up without me!" Mikoto called out, leaving Fugaku to grab the bags as she hurried to the deck. Blue eyes found once familiar black orbs first before breaking their gaze and a shy smile breaking out on the tanned face.

"Ah well ya know sunflowers are, just sprout up when no one's watching." Naruto accepted the hug stiffly until she whispered in his ear that caused him to melt into the long hug.

"Keep that in mind or I will negotiate with your mother on swapping you for Sasuke."

"Aha, not the best idea Mrs. Uchiha." A long look complete with a delicate eyebrow raise had the blond sputtering with a red face. "Fine fine, I'm sorry Mimi. Please don't look at me like that." And he still pouted the same and no it wasn't cute.

"Like what sunflower?" Her tone was playful and the quick fingers to slide through his golden mop were painfully familiar.

"Mother, we've been here less than ten minutes and you're already terrorizing the poor boy."

"Oi! I am a man now, I know Teme takes after the beauty in the family but if he can pass for a man then you shouldn't have any issues seeing I am too."

"I'm not the Uchiha that likes to check you out when you're not looking." Itachi commented as he passed Naruto, leaving him blushing and splattering again.

"Naruto." The reaction was instant, gone was the blush and sputtering, spine perfectly straight complete with a respectful but curious gaze. It was rare that the eldest Uchiha addressed the blond and it had been forever since Naruto had been comfortable around the dark-haired family. "I do hope you are not causing your parents trouble."

"Of course not, I did manage to grow up in my time away. Hurt like hell to leave for almost three years and have only Jiraiya as company but it was worth all the long phone calls from ma." Yet another mystery and by the look in the azure eyes, a big piece to explain the inner calm where there used to be boundless energy.

"I forgot to ask, did Kushina get the recipe I sent her?"

"I think so but you'll have to ask her Mimi. They got delayed helping granny with her uh situation."

"Same rooms as last time?"

"Yup, I think the only one that doesn't have the sheets put on is Teme's. I can do that real quick if you want?" The question was directed at Sasuke but Naruto's gaze was looking somewhere over his shoulder before returning to his father. He was expecting things to be awkward but not painful like this.

"I'm sure Sasuke can manage, don't let us keep from whatever it was you were doing son."

"Ah, cleaning up everything, I knew I would need to get here a few days early but I didn't know it was this bad. Steer clear of the kitchen for now, there's a lot of manuscripts lying about and I haven't had time to clean it yet. I figured the rooms were the priority since you always go for a family dinner first thing." Naruto smiled brightly before stepping through a different door that led outside. It made Sasuke recall another memory where the blond had gushed about the house.

"Oh my God, why do I always get lost?"

"Maybe because you're a Dobe?"

"Shut it Teme! I spent all summer with Peavy Sage and like his house has more doors than walls I swear! He says it's because he doesn't want to break his creative pacing so he likes having tons of options to get out of the house."

"Sounds like more options to break into the house."

"Oi! Shut up you're such a bastard."

"You know my father."

"Ugh, add prissy to the list too."

Suddenly it felt like he didn't belong here and the young photographer couldn't stay a moment longer. Leaving his luggage halfway to the door and taking only his back pack he left to the woods. Pulling on every memory he had of Naruto describing the surrounding foliage, Sasuke actually found the waterfall that fed the lake the hyper boy always spoke of. The waterfall was loud in a soothing way, the water pure and clear in a way that couldn't be found anywhere but in nature. Lush green grass filled out the banks that lined the sides of the small lake and the pine trees slightly weighed with the melting snow. This place brought peace to Sasuke's troubled mind and immediately pulled at his artistic brain. Even though he had to keep the photos for his private portfolio, this beauty didn't deserve to be disturbed without reason.

With a smooth but careful move, Sasuke slipped his arm through the strap and unzipped his pack. From the top he retrieved his camera case and withdrew his camera. Quickly the raven secured the strap around his neck and zipped up his backpack. Checking the settings and with a few test shots, the photographer was fully in control as he captured the serene surroundings. As always, Sasuke lost himself in the beauty around him and it took spotting a sliver of blond hair to break him free. Pretending to check the photo he had taken, the young photographer carefully aimed and zoomed in on the blond. The picture Naruto made took away Sasuke’s breath as he clicked the shutter button.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare Dobe?”

“Hey I’m not the one who left his luggage for everyone else to take care of or ran out of the house instead of going out to dinner.”

“Are you going?” His voice was neutral, a complete contrast to his inner feelings. On one hand, the raven had no idea how close the blond was with the family anymore and yet it was both disappointing and relieving if the Uzumaki were to join the Uchiha dinner.

“I can’t, Pervy Sage needs my help. I might not be here when you guys get back so the spare key is-”

“‘Under the ‘speak no evil’ toad by the huge ass sliding door’ I remember.” Dutifully Sasuke kept checking his camera and carefully packing it away while ignoring the piercing blue eyes.

“Uh yeah… Cool. I’ll uh be back later. Uh if you, I mean my memory isn’t as good as yours but yanno if you and Mimi still like super spicy curry there’s a place about twenty minutes out. It’s a little hole in the wall but authentic and good portions. Don’t stay out much longer and freeze your heart any more than it is Teme.”

Left alone by the waterfall, he finally packed everything up properly and followed the footprints back, thankful the snow hadn’t melted yet. If only the same could be said about his heart, seeing the blond should not throw his emotions back in time when Sasuke wanted nothing more than to cross lines that they never would. Thankfully he only had a week, right? Maybe then he could finally let go.

Naruto was trying his hardest to not just steal the car keys and drive far far away from Tsunade as the gas tank would allow. He was already exhausted mentally due to seeing Sasuke and boy was he a sight to see. The youngest Uchiha had always favored his mother’s looks and his father in personality, after all this time though Sasuke just seemed like so much more somehow and the blond was really trying to keep his heart in his chest this time. At the very least it was only for maybe a week so he could play it safe and be fine! Totally. As if he didn’t have a hard enough time the last time, denial really suited him then and now. Absently the blond wondered where they went for dinner.

"Fine! As if I care, I'll go just to shut you up and then I can drink in peace!" Tsunade announced loudly as she emerged from her front door.

"Oi granny, tis the season and all that but we need to get a move on so I can finish cleaning the house for the Uchihas."

"Oh, is that why you really broke up with your boyfriend? I didn't know you were talking to the Uchiha brat again." Fucking hell, Naruto hoped she would be able to control her mouth when they were actually around Sasuke's family or this would be a very bad vacation.

"I'm not the one who invited them, Pervy sage started it by deciding to invite us to his cabin and mom got the bright idea to invite Mikoto which includes the whole Uchiha family. Now hurry the fuck up before I leave you, I have shit to do and I need to leave before mom makes it here." Naruto pushed himself off the car and opened the door, sliding in the driver's seat and starting the car with the slam of the door.

"Jeez give the kid a break Tsunade, this isn't anyone's ideal vacation setup. Naruto had no idea that Sasuke was coming and by what Kushina and Mikoto were loudly discussing the Uchiha boy had no clue either after being guilty in going on the vacation in the first place." Jiraiya sighed after his explanation and got in the car, leaving Tsunade to follow suit.

“Tis the season so I'll behave but you still need to give me all the details just so we're clear.” Her tone left no room for argument as she buckled in and immediately cranked the radio. Naruto took it for what it was worth and reversed the car, secretly hoping he would be able to actually talk to Sasuke when everyone returned to the cabin. Naruto really hoped no one had looked through the gift he had brought yet, the impulsive decision to bring the gift for Sasuke was starting to seem like a bad one. Shaking off the feeling, he drove his godparents back to Jiraiya’s cabin.

[brackenfur]

reedwhisker & mistystar drabble

i always wanted a scene in shattered sky between these two; poor reedwhisker had been held prisoner by darktail, and i always felt like mistystar must’ve been worried sick about her poor baby - i decided to write something for them bc these two rly are one of my fave families in all of wc.

after reedwhisker is rescued, before he goes on the patrol with the other deputies to talk to onestar.

Mistystar’s eyes are fond as she looks over him, slowly padding into the medicine cat den. “Hi. How are you doing?”

Reedwhisker blinks, squinting at the light seeping into the den from outside; the hollow of ThunderClan’s camp usually offers shelter from the harsh elements, but at this time of day, the sunlight seems to be especially blinding.

He smiles at his mother weakly. “I’m alright, Mistystar. Hanging in there.”

She frowns; his mother’s tail twitches absentmindedly as she looks around, as though pondering of something else to say. After a few moments of strange silence, she settles down, curling her tail over her paws as she sits in front of him. She eyes Reedwhisker cautiously.

“Leafpool said you were getting better,” she murmurs, relief in her voice.

Reedwhisker shrugs, ignoring the stab of discomfort as he jostles his aching shoulder. “Almost as good as new; ready to get back to our own camp, once this is all over.”

His mother stares down at him, overlooking him with pained eyes. “I heard you want to go on the patrol to WindClan to speak to Onestar,” she says slowly; Reedwhisker knows his leader’s tone well, and knows that she’s ready to discourage him from doing so.

He’s already building up his protests as she continues: “And I don’t think you should.”

“Mistystar, I’m fine,” he tells her, gritting his teeth. “Well, okay - I’m better. You said it yourself - Leafpool says I’m getting better. I can make the walk to WindClan and back; Bramblestar wants the deputies of each Clan to go.”

“I can send Mintfur, or Minnowtail,” Mistystar meows, her voice tight. “You need your rest, Reedwhisker; I don’t-”

“I’m fine,” he repeats, tail-tip twitching. He’s trying to remain respectful of his leader and mother, but he can’t help but think she’s being overprotective in this moment - he’s healed from Darktail’s prison, more or less, and the walk won’t be too hard for him. He made it to ThunderClan camp, afterall, and that was when he was days from StarClan’s paws.

“You need rest,” she tells him, abandoning the soft approach for something more authoritative. “You almost-” She hesitates, as if saying the word could make it come true. “Your condition could have been much worse.”

“I’m alive and ready to protect my Clan,” he reminds her, twitching his whiskers. “I want to take down Darktail, Mistystar; Bramblestar and the other leaders want my help convincing Onestar to join us. What - do you think I can’t do it?”

He knows he’s being unfair to her, lashing out at his mother for the pain he still feels from his time as a prisoner; he can see her flinch slightly.

“I know you can do it,” she tells him firmly.

“But you don’t want me to.”

“No,” she says simply, narrowing her eyes. “You need to recover, and stay in this camp for as long as possible until you can walk around without needing breaks because your shoulder hurts too much.”

They’re both silent for a few moments, eyes locked on one another, until Reedwhisker finally lowers his gaze.

“Are you saying this as my leader,” he meows softly, “or as my mother?”

Mistystar is silent for a long time; he almost thinks she’s going to walk out of the den, until she finally speaks: “As your mother,” Her voice sounds...broken, almost, losing all of it’s strictness from minutes before. She sounds exhausted. “As your mother, Reedwhisker, please stay here. Stay with me. I can’t-”

She stops, and he realizes that she’s shut her eyes, turned away from him for a moment as she composes herself.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” She finally says, shaking her head and looking down at him with a devastated expression. 

“You didn’t, though,” he meows, flattening his ears. He’s suddenly back to when he was an apprentice, when it was just he and Mistystar left in their little family. “I’m right here, Mom.”

She cracks the tiniest smile at hearing him call her Mom; it’s been a long time since he’s done so - he’s also her deputy, after all. He can’t invoke much respect from RiverClan if he’s trailing after her, calling her Mom and Mama.

“But I almost did,” she reminds him, sighing. “You don’t know how hard it was to leave you, when Darktail drove us out of our territory. Reedwhisker, you- you don’t realize, how agonizing it was to walk away from you.” Her eyes are swimming with emotion. “I failed you.”

“You had to protect the rest of RiverClan,” he tells her sincerely; he doesn’t blame his mother for leaving him behind, not with the threat of her and the rest of the Clan being killed by the Kin. Darktail meant business; they’ve all come to realize it. He didn’t teter around or make exceptions - it was leave Reedwhisker and the others behind, or die themselves. No room for comprises, and the Clan was in no state to keep fighting.

“But as your mom, my job is to protect you,” she reminds him, and it’s at this point her shoulders shake; he can see how hard these past few weeks have been on her, and he realizes at this point - not for the first time, but this time with more shock and dread than any of the others - that she is an old molly, an old molly who has lost too much and been through some horrible times.

“You’re my mother and my leader,” he says, and then finds himself chuckling lightly. “You kinda-” He shakes his head. “I mean, Ma, you kind of asked for some complicated emotions when you asked me to be deputy. Sometimes I forget you’re my leader, and I can’t just treat you like I did when I was ‘paw.”

She sighs; she gives him a weak smile. “Believe me, so many others were telling me the same thing when I made you deputy,” she tells him, voice soft. “There’s times when...when all I want is to comfort you, or stop everything to ask you how your day has been going, if you’re finally going to give me grandkits,” At this, Reedwhisker rolls his eyes. “But I don’t regret asking you to be my deputy; the pros have outweighed the cons by far.”

“Cons like now,” he meows, frowning. “Where you’re blaming yourself for making the best possible decision for the rest of RiverClan, and trying too hard to protect me. But I’m- I’m a grown cat now, Mom. I’m your deputy; you need to trust that I’m making the best decisions, too.”

She blinks at him. “It’s just so hard, when all I can think about is you in that prison, being starved and neglected, about you almost dying,” She shuts her eyes. “You...I mean, for StarClan’s sake, after TigerClan, how was I supposed to feel, baby?”

He looks away; he’s come to realize over the past few days that his mother must have thought back to Tigerstar’s rule over RiverClan while he was with Darktail. He knows that, but her saying it makes it more raw, more real, for him; he feels a nugget of guilt in his belly, for lashing out at her when she must have been plagued by nightmares about all those years ago.

(Sometimes, he has them as well.)

“We both made it through those times,” he tells her, reaching a paw forward to place it on hers. “Mom, we both made it through those guys. We just need to go the extra step, and get rid of Darktail for good - let me do this. For both of us.”

She blinks, ears flattened to her head. “You’re so stubborn,” she says, a very light purr dipping into her words. “You remind me of your uncle; Stonefur...he never listened to me, either. Always telling me I’m overprotective, I fret too much.” She seems to be lost in her memories for a few heartbeats. “I lost him, and your brothers and sister - I just have you left, baby. You’re an adult now, and yes you’re my deputy, but-” She sighs. “You’re my only baby left.”

“All I have is you, too,” he reminds her, frowning up at her. “You’re my only family, Mom - don’t you see? I have to protect you, too. Family isn’t just moms protecting their stubborn sons; it’s sons protecting their tough moms, too.”

She shakes her head at him again, but he gets a small chuckle from her. “Just like Stonefur,” she sighs, taking a deep breath. “If I let you go to WindClan, will you promise me that you will come back home as soon as you start to get dizzy, or if you start limping? Any sign that you’re not feeling well, you come straight home.”

Reedwhisker blinks, and nods at her. “I promise, Mom. I’m fine.”

She stares down at him, nodding slowly. “I can’t lose you,” she reminds him, sighing. “But I have to let you be my deputy; I know that.”

Reedwhisker smiles at her, and begins to sit up; his joints ache, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was. He’ll make the journey there and back; he has to. For himself, for his mother, for RiverClan in all - he needs to do this. Anything he can do to take Darktail down, he’ll jump into, no hesitations.

“I love you,” Mistystar tells him, looking over him for a moment before touching her nose to his forehead. “You always were the best option for RiverClan’s deputy; not many cats would have endured everything you have, and still give their all to protect us. I’m so proud of you.”

Reedwhisker swallows down his emotion; he’s an adult, a senior warrior of many seasons; he knows he can’t get emotional at his mother’s words.

“I’m proud of you too,” he tells her, giving her cheek a lick.

She moves back, looking him over, and gives him a nod. “Don’t let Onestar boss you around, though; that tom is in no position to tell my son what to do, or how to act. He’s an idiot.”

Reedwhisker affectionately rolls his eyes, smiling at her. “Yes, Mom.”

[fytheuntamed]

Do you have any thoughts on why the novel might be so popular among lgbt people despite (sometimes quite obviously) being written by a straight women for straight women. I think this is quite evident in for example the sex scenes

Why do I think the novel is so popular amongst LGBTQ+ people despite being written by a straight woman for straight women? Simple! It’s a good story and the characters are complex and intriguing. No piece of media is ever perfect, so it simply comes down to whether an individual feels the positive aspects of the media outweigh the negative aspects of the media. Are there problematic aspects within the novel? Of course! But that doesn’t mean the novel as a whole should be disregarded. You can consume media while still being critical of it, just like you can like a character while acknowledging that they’re not a good person. LGBTQ+ people, like everyone else, value a good story and interesting characters, so even if there are aspects of the story that we dislike, we may still stick around if we think it’s worth it! Also, I think there’s a shortage of stories like “Mo Dao Zu Shi” where you have LGBTQ+ characters whose sexuality isn’t the focus of the story. Yes, Wangxian are soulmates and very much in love, but that isn’t the whole point. You have a delightful bundle of politics, magic, familial ties, concepts of right and wrong, mystery, etc etc that also features a beautiful love story between two men. I guess my point is, LGBTQ+ people are flawed just like everyone else and sometimes we consume content even if we don’t agree with every part of it.

I’ve avoided getting involved in any discourse surrounding the various versions of MDZS because I wanted to keep this blog drama free, however I would like to take this chance to offer my own thoughts on the “problematic” aspects of the novel. Before I get into it, I just want to make three things clear: 1) I’m white, 2) I’m not mlm, I’m a lesbian, and 3) I’ve only read the second half of the novel and honestly I can’t remember too much of the specifics. The relevance of my opinion on the matter, therefore, is limited and my words should be read with this fact in mind. I would love to hear everyone’s thoughts and feelings on this matter, so do feel free to either leave a comment or reblog and add your two-cents. All I ask is that we keep it respectful so this can continue to be an enjoyable space for all fans.

I’ve been going through the untamed’s tumblr tag daily since the start of this blog in August 2019, so I’ve seen the whole spectrum of opinions on this matter. Some people feel very strongly that some of the ways in which MXTX writes particular aspects of the novel are “problematic,” some people are indifferent, and others feel that criticism of MXTX’s writing comes from a lack of knowledge of Chinese culture (particularly LGBTQ+ Chinese culture). (I remember seeing a post touching upon this last matter, but I didn’t save it, so unfortunately I can’t link it.)

I think the two most common criticisms of the novel that I have come across pertain to matters of consent and the imposing of heteronormative concepts onto Wangxian. Again, I want to stress that I haven’t read the novel in its entirety and my memory of it is foggy. Talking about consent first, some felt the scene in the novel where LWJ kisses an unexpecting blindfolded WWX was a big no no, while others thought it was a very sweet, romantic scene. (To give context for those who have only seen the drama, this scene would have been placed in episode 25 had they included it). For this matter, I’m of the belief that consent is a must. Regardless of whether WWX enjoyed the kiss, the fact stands that no one is entitled to another’s body, and this is why consent is, in my eyes, non-negotiable. For those who have no problem with this scene, I do think it is worth considering how you would feel about this scene had it involved, say, Jin Zixuan kissing a blindfolded Jiang Yanli. If that had been the case, I do think the majority of readers would have found the scene in poor taste (I could be wrong, though!). I will say that the trope of the forceful kiss is extremely common and can be found in every genre; it’s definitely not restricted to LGBTQ+ couples. For the aforementioned reason, I don’t like the forceful kiss scenario irregardless of the genders of the people involved. I do think writing such scenes for LGBTQ+ couples in particular can perpetuate harmful stereotypes, particularly that LGBTQ+ people have no respect for personal boundaries and can’t control their physical desires. I think the situation is doubly bad if the person who is being kissed is “not yet gay,” because again, it perpetuates the idea of the big bad gay person and the innocent “straight” person who is at the whims of said big bad gay.

Moving on to WWX and LWJ’s sex life, I have seen multiple people in the tag mentioning WWX having a “rape kink” and their discomfort with this fact. Logically, I understand that we are all allowed, as human beings with different tastes and preferences, to enjoy the things that bring us pleasure (excluding certain obvious things). That being said, I do not personally enjoy rape fantasies in my media and try to stay far away from it. As I mentioned, we are all welcome to our own tastes and preferences, but I do think it is important that we realize that we are all also the product of our environments. Things, including kinks, do not exist in vacuums, and therefore they must arise as a result of some mixture of external and internal forces. Does MXTX giving WWX a rape kink automatically make her demon spawn? Not really. Does MXTX giving WWX a rape kink add anything to his character or the story? Also not really. All this being said, I do think LGBTQ+ media is oversaturated with consent issues and I’d personally like to see this come to an end, because once again, it perpetuates harmful stereotypes that do have a real impact on LGBTQ+ individuals.

As for the imposing of heteronormative concepts onto Wangxian, I think the biggest complaint I’ve seen is about WWX being referred to as the “mom” or the “wife” within the Wangxian couple. I would like to state here that this may be a situation in which cultural differences come into play. Additionally, because the novel is not originally written in English, it may be a case of telephone in which the true meaning becomes distorted as it is translated from one language to another and then to another and so on and so forth. Therefore, I am going to proceed with my thoughts on the matter in a more generalized way. For me, this is a big pet peeve of mine, to the point where I will not reblog content that refers to any of the male characters as “mom” or “wife.” My reasoning is simple: WWX is a man, so he would be someone’s “dad” or “husband,” not their “mom” or “wife.” I know from first-hand experience that non-LGBTQ+ people will often try to place a gay couple within a heterosexual context to make it easier for them to process how two women or two men could be together. I understand the reasoning behind this way of thinking, but that does not mean this way of thinking should be encouraged. It’s bad enough that non-LGBTQ+ couples are ensnared in an endless maze of gendered ways of being and thinking - let’s not force that on LGBTQ+ couples as well. My other issue is that the words “mom” and “wife” not only have gendered connotations, but they have implicit sexual connotations as well. In this context, “mom” and “wife” are just another way of saying “bottom.” Just think about it; nobody’s out there calling LWJ “mom” or “wife.” The whole idea of “top” and “bottom” in gay media is so……..it’s almost like an obsession? And for those of you who may be thinking it’s not that deep and has no bearing on real life….I really wish that were true. Go look at the comments section of any gay couple’s youtube video and you will invariably find someone asking who is the top and who is the bottom. That’s invasive as fuck, y’all, and you don’t see that shit on straight couple’s videos (again, because the assumption is that women are always in the submissive, therefore there’s no need to ask because it’s assumed the answer will always be that the woman “bottoms” and the man “tops”). All this being said, I can only speak about this matter from my viewpoint as a lesbian. If one day I were to get married, I wouldn’t want people referring to my wife as my “husband,” because the whole point is that we’re both the wife! I know there isn’t one rule/mindset that applies to all gay people, so I would love to hear others’ feelings on this matter.

Finally, I would also like to briefly touch upon Mo Xuanyu, who we don’t really get to see in the drama. I don’t know whether LWJ or WWX ever explicitly state their sexualities or which gender(s) they’re attracted to, but I’m pretty sure Mo Xuanyu is explicitly stated to be strictly into men (please correct me if I’m wrong!). I do wonder what MXTX’s intentions were (if there were any) when she decided to make Mo Xuanyu gay, because what I’ve grasped of his characterization is that he is written similarly to other gay male characters that give the impression they were created by checking off a list of every popular stereotype about gay men. I guess I’m just curious, as someone who knows very little about Mo Xuanyu, how others felt about his character in terms of complexity and stereotypes.

If you took the time to read all this, thank you! Let me know your thoughts~

[itsclydebitches]

I know you say that the Adam stuff in v3 was a good example of visual storytelling in rwby, do you think there is anything else, in your opinion

Yes! Let’s praise poor RWBY for once lol 

I’m sure there’s a lot that I could choose from but that would require me combing back through old content to jog those memories. So let’s stick to Volume 7. Overall, I quite enjoyed the JNOR vs. Neo fight. There are plot convenience issues (the stupidity of having the group carry the relic around instead of putting it in the vault) and choreography issues (I’ve heard a number of complaints about the slow-mo and how Jaune and Oscar don’t integrate well with Ren and Nora), but the fight does a good job of conveying a lot of information visually. It’s one of the few moments in the volume where I felt like RT was successfully a) using the medium to its advantage and b) achieving more than one thing in a single scene. 

Warning: Here be lots of screenshots. 

First, I want to acknowledge that lately RT has been demonstrating a talent for horror-esque writing. RWBY obviously isn’t in the horror genre, but via the Apathy we saw that RT can crank up the creep factor when they choose to. This scene does something similar (though admittedly much more subtly) and it starts with the opening shot of the destroyed guards. 

It’s a simple thing, but note how dark the room is, especially compared to the hallway outside. This is supposed to be a terrifying moment. The team has just arrived looking for Oscar and have instead found a disaster zone. There are scorch marks on the walls. The guards aren’t just lying powered down, they’ve been hacked to pieces. Though AIs without aura or souls, they’re designed to look like people and at first glance it definitely seems like we’ve got three bodies decorating the bedroom. Nora’s panicked cries tell us how bad the situation is, but we get that loud and clear from these visuals first. Also note how, despite being lighter, the hallway is dominated by a very deep red. I’d actually say to a certain extent this is a mistake - the pink/reds of the environment make it easy for Neo and Nora, with their predominantly pink costumes, to blend in too well during the fight - but in regards to color associations we get some nice shots throughout that convey danger and high emotions. 

When “Oscar” comes on the scene we know, instantaneously, that it’s not Oscar. Not just because we as the audience know that Neo is off doing something nefarious, but because via the language of film/television that’s not how you re-introduce an established character. You don’t hide their face like that unless you’re about to reveal something - like the fact that that’s not really them. This is also the first of a number of medium closeups on the relic, putting emphasis on it first because someone currently holds it who should not have it, and then as a means of reminding the viewer what this fight is about. 

Via some great attention to detail, we see again the clear wrongness about this “Oscar.” That’s not how Oscar stands. That’s not how Oscar smiles. More than just animating him differently, this shot pulls from those subtle horror tropes. He has the dead-eyed look of a doll or a supernatural being that immediately makes the viewer (if not Nora) go, “Wait...” It helps that Oscar is a short boy with dark hair. Put him in different clothes and he could play any number of possessed kids. 

With Neo’s deception revealed, we get what the fandom knows is not good visual storytelling. AKA, Oscar charging down the whole length of the hallway while Neo just stands there and lets herself get hit. I don’t need to re-hash how stupid that was. What I like a lot more is the subtleties in how she communicates given that, obviously, Neo can’t rely on any dialogue. Coming out of the hit she immediately has her umbrella leveled at the group and pulls out the blade to communicate, “Yes. I’m taking you on.” The neat choice though is that she brings the umbrella down to do it. She takes her weapon off the group, if only for a moment. Jaune has just gotten done insisting that she should give up because it’s four to one. The blade says, “I’m taking you on” but lowering her umbrella likewise says, “I’m so confident about taking you on I’ll even make myself vulnerable for a second.” 

Which retroactively makes her getting hit like that even stupider but it’s fine we’re moving on. 

During this time we also get a lot of insight into Oscar. Check out how utterly bedraggled he is, showing us how tough the initial fight with Neo was and how lucky he is to have escaped. He clutches the relic close to his chest and stares, scared, at the rest of the team. Oscar hasn’t reached a point yet where he instinctively draws his weapon and prepares to defend himself (indeed, he didn’t even have his weapon out during that initial encounter. That’s one hell of a rookie mistake). He’s still a terrified kid who hopes he won’t have to fight at all, literally hiding behind more powerful friends. This is all great characterization, the only problem is consistency. Nothing about Oscar has been consistent. One moment he’s holding his own against Lionheart and insisting he fight Hazel. The next he’s getting his ass kicked by Neo and cowering at the prospect of more. One moment he’s positively done in by these fights, horrified, scared, unsure of himself. The next he’s confronting the general of a kingdom with all the wisdom of Ozpin. This guy: 

and this guy: 

Exist about fifteen minutes apart. Because though RWBY is great at visual storytelling within each scene, they don’t keep it consistent from one scene to the next. Which is why Oscar is (accurately, imo) animated as an inexperienced kid in Scene #1 and then inexplicably becomes a wise old mentor in Scene #2. Not because anything occurred between Scene #1 and Scene #2 to create that change (let alone such an extreme change), but only because the show suddenly wanted Ironwood to look like an unhinged character. How do you achieve that? Not by having the guy he’s talking to act as winded, wild, and emotional as him, but by having Oscar speak calmly, rationally, softly, sounding oh-so-persuasive so you don’t listen to the actual words he says and how nonsensical they are (you’re as bad as Salem). Instead, you pay attention only to the visuals (Ironwood looks crazier than Oscar so he must be wrong). Ironwood is a great example of how RT sometimes tries to get visual storytelling to outweigh basic logic/what’s been said on screen. 

Anyway, I’m getting off track. The fight begins and I do still love how Oscar is depicted here, even if it doesn’t align with what we get later. The moment that umbrella and cane cross was great because who doesn’t love visual symmetry? Oscar grabbing Neo is wonderfully in character because he’s barely trained! He’s a kid! He’s flying by the seat of his pants and going with whatever vaguely successful act pops into his head. The absurdity of, “I’m just going to grab her” is tempered by Oscar’s furiously determined expression as well as Neo’s brief look of shock. It works up until they realize what Oscar grabbed was just a copy. 

I mentioned early that JNOR often doesn’t work well as a team, unless it’s specifically in the context of Jaune giving orders and the others executing them. Oscar and his lack of integration is obviously exempt from this, being the newbie both to fighting and this particular team’s dynamics, but Ren, Nora, and Jaune have no excuse. The first half of this fight is a good example of what I mean. We see Nora attack. She’s tossed aside. Then Ren attacks. He’s slammed into the wall. Oscar attacks (umbrella vs. cane) and it’s only at the last second that Jaune arrives with his shield to stave off a blow that would fell him too. Why is everyone taking turns here? They know none of them can beat Neo one-on-one and Jaune just said that their victory lies in it being four-to-one. So why separate out all the attacks? Arguably we can read this as a major flaw of JNOR’s and visual setup for something they’ll have to overcome later. In reality though I highly doubt this was deliberate on RT’s part, leaving this as bad visual storytelling (in that it makes the characters look stupid) as opposed to good visual storytelling (JNOR will realize this flaw and work to correct it). 

After Neo disappears we get a chase through the hallway that does a great job of showing us precisely how weaker Oscar is compared to his teammates. He doesn’t have their stamina, breathing heavily and falling further and further behind. At one point (screenshot #2) he arrives just in time to find the team turning back in the direction he’s just come, showing not only how he can’t physically keep up, but also his place in this team/the group. He’s literally not with them. Anyone who has followed my blog knows my thoughts on how the group has treated Oscar and if (again) I were inclined to think that RT was aware of that treatment and working to integrate it into the show with the intent to resolve it, this would be another great detail. As it is, I think Oscar as a character is just continually going to get the short end of the stick. In particular, the crane shot shows us exactly how far behind Oscar is. The others charge ahead without him, not caring where he is or if he can keep up. Which leads to this. 

Oscar rounds another corner and they’re gone. Nowhere to be seen. If anyone had the thought, “He’s not that far behind. It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Ren, Nora, and Jaune were clearly moving fast enough to round another corner and leave Oscar stranded. Here those subtle horror elements come back into play, particularly the maze-like design of the corridors. The only unique marker we get is the info board, otherwise it’s all identical hallways, housing a killer, with Oscar now left alone in it. The long shot makes him look small and emphasizes his isolation. 

Then he’s attacked and it’s suitably scary. The hand over his mouth. The dark room again. We only get the briefest glimpse of Neo-as-Nora before she attacks, but that one second is another excellent moment of animation. Nora has never sauntered away like that. Even the quickest look in an action-driven scene is enough for the viewer to go, “Nope. Not Nora.” 

The attack itself is the one moment where I think the slow-mo serves a good purpose. We might know (via that quick shot, how characters act (Nora is unlikely to pull Oscar aside like that) and expectations for how a story functions) that that’s not Nora, but Oscar doesn’t know that. The slow-mo gives us - and him - the chance to focus on Neo’s eyes changing, that stomach-dropping moment of realization, and we see Oscar’s horrified shock in the close up on his own eyes. Though RWBY doesn’t always grapple with the emotional implications of every encounter, I think it’s worth noting that this can really mess someone up. Oscar thought he was safe with an ally and had the rug pulled out from under him. He will now forever have the image of Nora attacking him, regardless of the fact that it was really “Nora.” Jaune likewise exclaims in horrified surprise when “Nora” charges him down the hallway. The ability to turn into someone else is an advantage that Neo knows how to use to its fullest. Not just in regards to spying, but how to unsettle your opponent too. 

Waiting for the day she turns into Pyrrha ngl. 

We see that same work when she encounters Ren. Admittedly, I’m torn on this one. If only because I agree with others when they ask, “Doesn’t Ren spar with Nora all the time? He should be able to hit her.” The context of “Barely trained kid thought he was with a friend and then watches said ‘friend’ attack him” is not the same thing as, “Much more experienced fighter realizes the moment ‘Nora’ rounds the corner with an umbrella that that’s not her, has no doubt hit her numerous times in the past during training, yet for some reason can’t bring himself to hit her now.” It... doesn’t quite work. Here, I think RT does a good job of showing us Ren’s distress, it’s just that this is paired with a very bad job of establishing what that distress is and why it exists. This is what we needed to hear about during the party conversation. If Ren and Nora had actually talked rather than just kissing, we might have understood why Ren is suddenly incapacitated here when “Nora” looks at him sadly. 

As said though, the emotion of the scene is great even if we don’t quite know where it came from. Neo’s pitiful look, Ren freezing in shock (check out the red there too), his dumbfounded expression as he just sits in the middle of a battle, and when we come back to him we see the tear tracks. Overall, this scene does a great job of incorporating lots of information beyond “Team JNOR is fighting Neo for the relic.” We just need to connect that information better to what came before this scene (Ren) and what comes after (Oscar). 

Finally, Neo slams into the other guards and transforms again. I love this final shot of her, both for how she moves and the implications of the transformation itself. Meaning, Neo is a professional. She had a job and she did it. Once the relic was in her possession and she had an escape route, she took it. Neo doesn’t get distracted by taking revenge - these are some of the people we fought against when Roman died - or trying to take them out to please Cinder, or even just going after them because she’s Evil. Neo is focused, no unnecessary actions taken, and that, just as much as her semblance and skill, is what makes her dangerous. 

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Four

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

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“Do you think he’s alright? No, that’s a ridiculous question. Of course he isn’t alright. Should we go search for him? Or would he prefer being left on his own? He hates being left on his own, but maybe this is something he prefers dealing with on his own… Ah, what am I saying. You would already know, of course! Aizawa-san, what do we do?” It took a lot more effort than Shouta would have thought to not laugh at Toshinori’s panicked rambling and his overly polite tone; something that was typical of him when they were out in public.

Curbing the laugh into a soft huff of breath, Shouta rolled his chair over to where he was closer to Toshinori before gently nudging his foot, the both of them in the staff lounge having been waiting for Hizashi to arrive for lunch. The longer Hizashi went without showing, though, the more concerned Shouta found himself becoming. Toshinori, on his part, was becoming more panicked than anything else. 

The subtle contact seemed to wind the man down a few notches, Shouta pleased before Nemuri was breaking into their conversation, “Oh? Is Hi-chan still trying to do that thing where he avoids everyone when he’s in a snit about something?”

“He hates that name and you know it,” Shouta snorted, rolling his eyes as the returning tongue that was stuck out at him. It didn’t take more than remembering Hizashi to sober up, knowing how bad off he would already be. “It’s a bad day.” 

That had Nemuri clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, sympathetic expression on her face, “Aw, poor thing. He’s probably been just a mess today, hasn’t he?” As typical of her, Nemuri sounded a little too excited at the thought of an emotionally wrecked Hizashi. While Shouta rolled his eyes, Toshinori gave him a soft nudge to his side. 

“Is that normal for her?” The question was barely a whisper, Toshinori eyeing Nemuri like she was about to turn rogue. “Or should I be concerned about needing to defend ourselves from her?”

Shouta hummed, looking away from Nemuri with a disinterested expression he tried to hide his grin behind, “Nah, she’s terrifying, makes a mess of things, and has a sharp bite, but ultimately she can’t do any real damage. Just like a sewer rat, really.” 

The offended screech had him biting back yet another smile, Shouta standing with a groan and the soft cracking of his lower back. He ignored the worried looks from everyone who heard, instead turning to Toshinori and patting his shoulder softly, “I’ll go drag him away from wherever he’s hiding and bring him back so he can try to eat something.”

Working his way around the chairs, Shouta paused and dropped a kiss to the top of Toshinori’s head, ignoring Nemuri’s squealing as he watched the flush spread across Toshinori’s cheeks. It was sweet how easy it was to fluster him, sometimes. “Don’t worry,” Shouta said quietly, smiling at Toshinori. “You’re doing just fine with him today.”

The man was quiet for a long moment before he visibly slumped in relief, tilting his head back against the chair with a wry grin, “I forgot how terrifying being in a relationship can be, I think. Especially with other heroes.” 

“Mm, welcome to my life,” Shouta chuckled, hand falling down to press against Toshinori’s cheek before he was dragging his thumb against the man’s skin. “I’ll bring our idiot back. Don’t worry.” 

“I’ll always worry.” Toshinori’s look was absolutely smitten and Shouta really wished it was a better day so he could linger and smother the man in the affection he deserved. “Come back safe, hero.”

“Always for you two.” Shouta dropped one last kiss on top of Toshinori’s head before he was heading out of the staff lounge and straight towards Recovery Girl’s mini-hospital. The nurse’s office that had slowly become a fully functioning medical room and operating theater over the years had always been a favorite place of Hizashi’s -- especially when he was having a day like the one he was going through. 

It didn’t take long to reach the door, Shouta cracking it open and spotting Recovery Girl herself sitting at her usual desk and working away at a stack of papers. She barely looked up at him before she was pointing her pen towards one of the back rooms, “Bed number three from the wall. Make sure the idiot eats something.”

Short, to the point, and wanting absolutely none of their nonsense; Shouta knew there was a reason Recovery Girl was one of his favorite heroes. Giving a mumble of thanks, Shouta dug out his phone, digging through it before pulling up whatever playlist he was first to click on. Soft music rang out from his phone as soon as he was through the door and into the back room that he had been gestured towards.

Turning the volume down, Shouta moved to the third bed where, as he had expected, Hizashi was curled up and hiding under a pillow. His support equipment, specifically the speaker around his neck, was at least off and resting at the end of the bed. That meant Shouta didn’t have to worry too much about dealing with a suffocating idiot.

Walking over with enough force in his steps to be heard, Shouta didn’t hesitate to take a seat on the edge of the bed, setting his phone aside so the music was still softly filling the air. He let himself stay there for a moment, studying the tension in Hizashi’s shoulders and back before he was throwing his legs up onto the bed and turning to lean right against the man. 

“You know,” Shouta spoke up after a few more moments. “If you keep lying there like that and hiding under a pillow then you’ll ruin your hair before the day is even out.”

There was a half-hearted, almost bitter snort that would have been a bark of laughter on any other day, Hizashi shifting his head and pillow to peek up at him. “I’m insulted at the insulation that my brand of hair gel couldn’t handle the absolute worst the world has to offer.” 

“Mm, might want to get a refund for that, then,” Shouta shot back, gently placing a hand down on Hizashi’s back and rubbing softly for a moment. “Don’t talk if it hurts.” It was a toss-up, on some days, if Hizashi found that need of his to go non-verbal. Sometimes he had to speak, to keep up a constant run of words to prove that he could. Other times, though, Shouta knew the fear outweighed everything else. “Thought we had an agreement on you skipping meals?” 

Hizashi peeked up, staring at him before lifting his arm and signing one-handed a quick, ‘innocent,’ ‘Did we?’ The little shit was hiding a smile behind his arm, Shouta resisting the urge to shove him off the bed or ruin his hair. 

“Yes, we did. The agreement was you’re not allowed to skip out on meals, or I get pissed and Toshi starts crying. Do you really want to be known as the man who made All Might cry?” Ah, there was the buried hero worship that had Hizashi glaring up at him. It wasn’t much of a glare, but it was emotion on Hizashi’s face that wasn’t fear or distress, so he couldn’t complain -- not too badly, at least. “Plus, if you don’t come back with me, then that means Nemuri will be the one to come get you.”

Hizashi made a face at the very idea of the suggestion, slowly pushing himself up and trying to glare. It came off as more of a pout and Shouta didn’t bother to hide his smile, leaning over to brush a few strands of hair out of Hizashi’s face. There was even more of a pout before he was signing again, ‘How did you know I would be in here, anyways? Lunch only just started ten minutes or so ago didn’t it?’

“Something like that,” Shouta nodded, finally moving to get off the bed before Recovery Girl came in to yell at them about lazing around. Again. “I checked here first because you, Sunshine, tend to be a creature of habit.” The familiar name had Hizashi flushing a dull pink, Shouta grinning as the man grumbled under his breath as he got off the bed himself. “You always hide out in here when you’re going through an overload.” 

‘What can I say? Recovery Girl has the best nap spots in the whole school. And, unlike you, not all of us can fall asleep on top of bookshelves in the library.’ Hizashi’s look was purely judgmental, Shouta grinning as he gave the man a push to get moving as soon as his support gear was back around his neck. 

“I’ll have you know that I was never caught when I napped there.” Shouta held the door open, watching Hizashi carefully for a moment. That tension was still there, Hizashi wound up tight as if he would crumble or snap at any moment. He at least seemed more stable than that morning, but that wasn’t saying much. “I did them a favor keeping the top of those cases dusted, anyways.” 

Hizashi choked on a laugh, Recovery Girl glancing up at them as they crossed the room. The pen she pointed at the two of them had memories of high school flying through Shouta’s head with worrying intensity. The hero didn’t say anything for a long moment, finally just giving a sharp click of her tongue, “I don’t want to see you boys in here for two weeks. At least.”

‘Yes ma’am,’ Hizashi signed quickly before bolting out the door, Shouta mumbling something that was probably an agreement before he was following after Hizashi. As soon as he looked over, Hizashi was signing rapidly. ‘She’s scary, right? I know everyone says we’re crazy for being scared of her, but she’s so scary!’ 

“Imagine how much worse it is for me being the homeroom teacher of 1-A,” Shouta muttered, shaking his head. For as much as he admired Recovery Girl, she could be terrifying when it came to student safety. It made him briefly think about his kids. They were all going to give him heart attacks one day, for sure. Knowing a few of them, they’d think it was from the effects of a quirk and would go out to try and stop whoever had ‘hurt him.’ He hated how much he loved them. “Come on. Toshi and Nem are waiting for us.” 

Hizashi gave a subdued nod, Shouta watching him out of the corner of his eye and trying to resist the urge to bundle Hizashi up and drag him off campus back towards their home. It wasn’t hard to see how ragged and worn down he was, something that always happened when the man pushed himself when he should be resting. 

Days like these cropped up every so often considering their line of work, but Shouta would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected a bad day like this to hit. Hizashi had always pushed himself, working all of his jobs with the same focus and intensity as when he was out on the field as Present Mic. He never slowed down for even a second while he was working, wired up and ready to go until the crash hit -- and it always hit in the end. 

Considering how they had all been pushing themselves since Kamino Ward, and Shouta and Hizashi had run themselves ragged worrying equally about Toshinori, it was no surprise this day had hit so hard. Sadly, Shouta knew there wasn’t much he could do beyond nudging Hizashi to slow down and rest once he burned himself out completely, stubborn bastard that he was. 

Besides, for as much as he would love for Hizashi to go home and rest, going about his day as normally as possible was probably helping. Hizashi’s routines kept him present, and that, at least, was better than letting him get lost in his memories.

Just as they reached the staff lounge with Hizashi starting to open the door, Shouta spoke up, “Oh, yeah. By the way, Nemuri already knows. She’s worried about you.” The look of betrayal was almost enough to have Shouta burst out laughing. Instead he just watched as the door was jerked open the rest of the way, Nemuri standing in the doorway with a far too dramatic look of pity. 

“Hi-chan we were so worried about you!” The look of disgust on Hizashi’s face had Shouta grinning, almost giving in and laughing himself when he heard a startled snort of laughter from Toshinori at the desks. “Aw, c’mon, Hi-chan, aren’t we friends?”

‘You’re dead to me,’ Hizashi signed simply, slipping around her and heading towards their desks. Shouta noticed the other teachers didn’t make so much as a comment, giving Hizashi his space. Even Nemuri knew when to draw the line, careful not to touch Hizashi or smother him as she instead hovered a few feet away, cooing and making comments about how worried she was. 

“Really, Hi-chan, you can’t worry your boys like this! Shouta is already one nervous breakdown away from being holed up in a psych ward, and poor Yagi-san isn’t used to dealing with your cavalier attitude towards death!” Nemuri pouted and Shouta wavered between the decision of responding or saying nothing. The second one hurt, but at least it wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. 

Before he could truly decide, Nemuri was perking up, “Oh, hang on! I have the cutest pictures of some Present Mic fans I saw on my patrol the other day.” With that she was rushing away towards her phone, Shouta taking the chance to give Hizashi a soft squeeze to his wrist. 

“How are you doing?” The twisted, unhappy expression was answer enough, he supposed. “Better or worse than this morning?”

Hizashi was quiet for a moment, hands still before he finally moved to sign, ‘It was worse earlier. It’s not better than how I was this morning, but it’s at least gotten less worse.’ Hizashi paused, nose scrunching up for a moment. ‘So yes to both?’ 

Shouta rolled his eyes, watching as Toshinori snorted before rolling his chair in closer and holding out a small, bite-sized sushi piece with his chopsticks. Shouta didn’t have the heart to tell him that Hizashi would probably wiggle his way out of eating anything no matter what tricks were used. Already Hizashi was in the middle of signing, ‘Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.’ 

“How wonderful for you that I just need a taster, then,” Toshinori chirped, Shouta almost able to see the stubborn stance he was taking. “Aizawa-san refuses to eat what I make after last time. Something about how a man with no stomach shouldn’t be making food for others.”

While Hizashi gave Shouta a rather judgmental look, Toshinori winked from slightly behind him with a grin curling on his lips. Whoever said the Number One Hero couldn’t be devious had never met the man, Shouta decided. Still, he at least could play his part if needed. “‘S not like I’m wrong, am I? The last thing you made almost killed whoever ate it. Midoriya only survived because he can’t handle so much as the thought of upsetting you.”

“I’ll have you know that Young Midoriya asked for seconds,” Toshinori grumbled, waving the sushi piece in front of Hizashi. “And I’ll have you know that I’ve improved since then. As Mic-san will be happy to verify, yes?”

‘Well, I do love proving Shouta wrong,’ Hizashi signed, exhaustion still weighing him down, but humor making him appear a bit softer. ‘Do your worst!’ 

“Thank you for agreeing to try all six of my samples today,” Toshinori said solemnly, Hizashi opening his mouth to argue before he was bitterly eating the sushi piece that had been shoved into his mouth. Shouta was quick to duck his head into his binding cloth so Hizashi didn’t see his smile.

Shouta had no doubt in his mind that Hizashi knew exactly what Toshinori was doing, but it spoke volumes of how close the both of them had grown to the man when Hizashi didn’t put up any sort of fight. Toshinori, on his part, was distracting Hizashi with babble about anything and everything that crossed his mind, Hizashi eating the fourth piece while barely realizing he was actually eating. 

“I see things are going well.” Nemuri’s soft voice had Shouta glancing up to see the woman giving an actual smile. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen our loud little idiot manage to eat on a bad day. Do you think Yagi-san has some mind control power he hasn’t been telling us about?”

Shouta snorted, leaning back in his seat, “It’s less that and more the fact that ‘Zashi had a hero-worship phase over All Might for a couple of years. He’s been trying to get him on his radio show for the last five years.” The ugly snort that Nemuri let out had Toshinori and Hizashi glancing over to them, Toshinori looking curious and Hizashi looking suspicious. 

‘What are you two scheming about over there now?’ Hizashi signed, Shouta not sure if he had even realized he was doing it. Sign language had always been more of a first language to Hizashi than anything else, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to switch to that as bad days dragged on. ‘Stop scheming! The school can’t handle it!’

“We’re not scheming,” Shouta waved him off lazily, sharp grin growing on his face. “I was just telling Nemuri about that time we were around… twenty-four? Twenty-five?” The suspicious look on Hizashi’s face didn’t leave and Shouta let his grin grow wider. “A certain popular hero’s return to Japan-” 

The noise of outrage was a better sound than Shouta would have expected, Shouta nodding along as Hizashi ranted in sign language, a spark of life burning in his eyes. Considering the way of the world, Shouta couldn’t do much to stop Hizashi’s bad days no matter how hard he tried. He could lessen them if nothing else, at least. 

By the time lunch drew to a close and Hizashi was escaping to go prepare for his next class -- and no doubt hide in his office for a short time -- the man had managed to eat five pieces of sushi and had even drank half a cup of water. Toshinori looked discouraged and Shouta was giving him a nudge with his foot, rolling the chair back an inch or two, “Hey. Stop pouting.”

“I just…” Toshinori trailed off, no doubt a million words at the tip of his tongue before he sighed and gave a rueful grin. “I suppose I just worry. Relationships in general have always been a difficult area for me, but with other pro heroes? It’s…”

“Nerve wracking?” Shouta guessed, smiling when Toshinori groaned out his agreement. “Well… I’m not sure how to solve that problem, but you really have helped. On days like this Hizashi usually doesn’t eat at all. The fact you got him to eat as much as you did?” Shouta lowered his voice, foot reaching out to hook around Toshinori’s and drag both him and his chair closer. “You’re doing good, Toshi.” 

A sweet flush appeared on the man’s cheeks, Shouta not bothering to hide his grin as the man cleared his throat and tried to get himself back together. “We- Well. Be that as it may, it’s still worrying. Is there a reason he doesn’t eat? Specifically?” 

Shouta tilted his head back and forth, thinking it over and remembering other bad days where Hizashi had barely even been responsive for the entire day, “It changes, I think. Sometimes his anxieties and worries get the best of him and he gets nauseous at so much the idea of eating. Other times, like today, I think…” 

A deep sigh left him before he could stop it, Shouta looking up to see Toshinori’s expression waver between concern and dawning horror and understanding. “He can’t handle the idea of anything blocking his throat, can he?”

“I don’t know how much he’s told you about his early childhood, but it wasn’t a good one,” Shouta said bluntly, meeting Toshinori’s gaze and softening his words at the care and concern he saw there. “You’re a media hero. You know even better than I do how aggressive people can become when it comes to certain quirks -- to quirks that they consider dangerous.”

Shouta looked down at his desk, bitter laugh leaving him as he half-shook his head, “Then again, you media heroes sometimes don’t see just how fucked up the average civilian could be. Always focused on those villains trying to end the world.”

“Even the media heroes see the darkness in the everyday parts of the world,” Toshinori said quietly, Shouta hating how old and worn he sounded. It was easy to forget, when talking with kind and soft-spoken Toshinori, that he had been the Number One Hero for years. “We all have bad days where our mistakes and fears trail our every step, waiting to trip us up and sending us crashing back into that darkness that we try so hard to pretend isn’t there. That we try so hard to hide from the public.

“I wish I could say that I had no idea what he’s going through,” Toshinori continued, gaze hard when he met Shouta’s. “I wish I could tell you that we live in a world where I can’t fathom something so cruel, but that’s not the world we live in. I won’t ask you to tell me his story. He’ll tell me when he’s ready, but I know enough to understand how hard these sorts of days are for him.” 

Shouta stared at Toshinori for a long moment, mulling over his words and expression before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against the hero’s lips. The muffled sound of surprise easily faded into a soft sigh, Shouta finally pulling back to give Toshinori a grin, “Damn. Forgot how much of a hero you were for a second.”

The burst of loud and bright laughter had Shouta falling a little bit more in love, the same way he felt whenever he heard Hizashi’s bright, bubbling giggles. The familiar feelings were enough to soften any embarrassment of the other teachers who he knew were looking over at them. A sharp glare sent them scattering, at least, Shouta only turning back when he felt Toshinori lightly tap against his cheek.

The man’s laughter had faded away, a more serious expression left in its place, “I can guess the worst of what might have happened, but can you share anything else I might need to know?” Hm. A good question, really. It was also amusing to see how damn sincere Toshinori looked, eyes narrowed and determined. 

Leaning back, Shouta ran over what he wanted to say in his head for a few moments before finally speaking, “He’ll be using sign language a lot today. He’s terrified of anything that could stop him from talking, but he’s also afraid to talk.” Some people never understood that part, but Toshinori only nodded as if he had expected it. “He has this… I’m not sure how to explain it. He likes it quiet on days like this, but he can’t handle it being silent.” 

Toshinori nodded slowly, lips pursed in thought, “I believe I understand. He wants control over the situation, but he doesn’t want to deal with the possibility of being alone. As with speaking or not speaking, considering what you’ve told me, that makes all too much sense. He typically stays home on days like these?”

“Rarely,” Shouta sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck and closing his eyes for a moment. “Leaving him alone with his thoughts is probably the worst thing we can do, and it does help him sometimes when he’s able to keep to his usual routines.” At least it did until those routines caused him more stress than help, just like it was no doubt doing today.

It was true that Hizashi worked multiple jobs, but he typically didn’t have to do intensive work for all three of those jobs in a single day. It was their kind of luck that one of Hizashi’s nightmare-triggered episodes had occurred on a day as busy as it was going to be. Shouta should have pushed harder for him to stay at home, but the man would have thrown a fit about the possibility of all three of them missing work.

“I would have been happy to call us in,” Shouta explained, looking back at Toshinori. “But on days like this, when he has too much to do, he tries to pretend everything is fine even when we all damn well know it’s not.” 

“No one ever said emotions were a simple thing, Aizawa-san,” Toshinori chuckled softly, standing to begin collecting the remains of their lunches. “Sign language, quiet but not silence, nothing blocking his throat-” Toshinori snapped his mouth shut, looking up with a mild look of alarm. 

Shouta could tell what it was about immediately, releasing an aggravated sigh and answering before Toshinori could ask, “Yes, his damn support equipment can make it worse sometimes, but he refuses to ever take it off when he’s ‘supposed’ to wear it.” He had at least had it off when he had been resting in Recovery Girl’s office, but Shouta knew Hizashi would be trying to keep his equipment on as much as possible. Honestly, the idiot thought too little of himself and his control. “He’s too damn stubborn for his own good.”

“At least he’s in good company,” Toshinori teased, laughing at whatever expression Shouta threw at him. “He’ll be at his agency today as well, yes?”

“No patrol,” Shouta reassured quickly. “But yeah, he usually goes in to make sure everything’s running smoothly and deal with any paperwork he needs to handle. He checks up on the interns and sidekicks, too.” Having an idea of what Toshinori was planning, Shouta gave a soft huff of laughter. “He goes there directly after school before his shift at the radio station.”

“Perfect,” Toshinori chirped, throwing lunch remains away and putting away utensils before he was placing a quick kiss against the top of Shouta’s head, voice soft and warm when he spoke. “Stop being so hard on yourself, Shouta. He couldn’t be in better hands with you at his side.”

Shouta scoffed, hating the heat he felt in his cheeks as he buried his way into his binding cloth and stood up. “Damn cheats, the both of you.” The loud, bright laugh had Shouta releasing a small breath, tension draining out of him. 

He would always worry about Hizashi on his bad days -- he had since the two of them had been teenagers with dreams too big and hopes too bright. It was good to know, however, that Hizashi would always have more than just him in his corner. 

Besides, Shouta mused, he had a feeling that Hizashi didn’t mind all that much having All Might standing behind him. He no doubt minded Yagi Toshinori even less.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

You played Carlotta! That's brilliant, what was it like to play as her? What did you like the most about playing her? What's your favourite thing about her, having had that perspective of playing her? Which of her songs did you most enjoy singing? Tell me all!

Absolutely will spill. 😉

So for context: my high school is very small— we only have about 100 students in the whole high school (although it’s a Pre-K through 12th grade school, so it actually has about 350 students total). Despite our small size, we have a really amazing performing arts program with a director who as of late, has been a little... ambitious with his choices for the annual musical. This is not a big school we’re talking about.

Carlotta was my second-choice role— like everyone else, yours truly auditioned for Christine Daaé, and the possibility of me actually getting her lasted about as long as the time it took me to murder the boat scene during my audition, but that’s a story for another time; also, as I later found out, literally no one actually auditioned for Carlotta as their first choice. (To be clear, I do not think that me murdering the boat scene had anything to do with me getting Carlotta except that it probably put me out of the running for Christine. Other than that, my vocal audition went completely fine.)

But anyway, I got Carlotta, I was super-excited, and then I actually had to come to terms with what I had to do. The part is short, but it’s brutal to sing, and after about a day of excited freaking out, my reaction was along the lines of,

“What the hell did I just get myself into?”

In short, to answer your first question, it was both a lot of fun and extremely difficult.

I usually had rehearsals at least twice a week, if not more often, plus vocal coachings with one of the music teachers every Friday morning (and let me tell you, there is nothing better for preparing a role than forcing yourself to be able to sing it at 8 in the morning. If you can do that, you can do it under almost any circumstances. I say almost and you will know what I mean later).

Anyway, it was a lot of fun because she’s such a fun, interesting character to play with some great music, and also with it being a small school, you also know everyone involved with the show and it’s so great doing it with all your friends.

On the flip side, not only was the rehearsal schedule difficult (I frequently did not get out of rehearsal until after 8 PM, and oftentimes much later), but as you can imagine, the part itself was difficult and yours truly may or may not have had semi-frequent nervous breakdowns about it for nearly the entire rehearsal process (including one about a month before the show that ended with me crying while leaning on the drum set in the orchestra room while the director was asking me if there was anything he could do and I started yelling “NO I’M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO DO THIS”. yeah, it was...kinda bad.)

But overall, the good outweighed the bad.

To answer your second and third questions: probably the thing I liked most about playing her, and the thing I liked most about her period, was how loud and sassy and crazy she could be while also still being in a way relateable. In other words, I loved how complex she is, and how that meant I could do so many different things with her acting-wise. I could call everyone out one moment and try to show some genuine concern the next. That’s not really something I’ve gotten to do with any other role I’ve played, and I loved it. (Also, that rant she goes on at the beginning? Iconic.)

Favorite song of hers: Once I finally got it under my belt (the above nervous breakdown was actually about this song), my favorite song to sing was ‘Prima Donna’, and not just because it is absolutely her moment. It’s so beautiful! And once I could sing it well, it felt so good to sing! (I will say, though, that ‘Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh’ is absolutely hilarious and I loved getting to croak like a toad.)

Other things:

The costumes were gorgeous. We rented the opera costumes from a company in Chicago but other than that, the costume team made all the costumes. I had six and I loved all of them. I also got two really over-the-top wigs and two amazing fascinator hats (one pink with a bird, among other things, the other yellow with a bunch of flowers).

The guy playing Piangi and I were good friends even before the musical, and so not only did we end up having really good chemistry onstage, but also both of us were super-anxious about our parts and so we ended up being huge moral support for each other.

You probably want to know about Hannibal, specifically the part at the beginning. One, it was the hardest thing in the entire role. I had to do it four times over two auditions and I’m pretty sure it sounded bad in all of them but I still got the part anyway and it took me about two-and-a-half months to get it to not sound like I was being brutally murdered. We had the student preview two days before opening night and one of my best memories from the entire show was stepping out onstage, doing that part— and it sounding, even to my own worst-critic ears, really good. I was so proud of me that day.

And then that’s when everything went downhill.

Thursday morning, I woke up with some minor nasal congestion completely out of the blue. By the next day (opening night), I had the worst cold I have ever had— and I almost completely lost my voice.

We don’t have understudies. Even if we did, a) I chose to remain stubbornly optimistic and b) there was no way in hell I was going to miss out on my senior-year musical and only high school leading role.

So I went on. And it was...kind of a disaster. Understand: when I say ‘almost completely lost my voice’, I really mean that. I absolutely butchered the Hannibal scene and the rest of the first act didn’t go much better (although I pulled through and acted like that was completely normal and supposed to happen).

However, thanks to a lot of encouragement and ridiculous amounts of water and tea, I rallied a little bit (not fully— not even close) for Act II, and as it turned out at show’s end, nobody in the audience cared that my singing was... not great, to say the least. In fact, a large portion of the audience thought I was singing like that on purpose.

The Saturday show went somewhat better thanks to a combination of lots of rest, tons of water, and some steroids my dad got from his doctor’s office, although I was still nowhere near 100%.

But hey, it was still one of the most fun, most amazing things I’ve ever done. 😊

Feel free to send any other questions my way!

[bulbpix]

If You Just Listened- Part 10

A/N- Sorry for the delay, here’s the new chapter! I think I might even have 11 up later today!

You brushed the sweat off your forehead as you continued to wipe down the table. You pressed the towel down into the polished wood, your mind not entirely focused on your current task.

You thought about Arthur. You thought about his face when you declined his offer. He didn't frown, he didn't scowl, he just... stared at you. He stared at you for a little longer than anyone else would, just like he did when you first spoke to him.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now." He blinked a few times when you said that. The flutter of his eyelashes told you all you needed to know - he was confused, and more than a little hurt. His eyebrows flicked upwards for a moment, it couldn't have been more than half a second before they slowly began to lower again. He was embarrassed, and surprised?  Was he expecting you to say yes? Were you giving him the wrong impression?

"Oh." You could tell at that point that he just wanted to leave.

Your hand instinctively went to your chest at that memory, clutching your blouse in your fingers. Would things be different between you two now? You certainly hoped not.

"Jesus, are you power-wiping those tables or something?"

Owen stood against the kitchen doorway, holding a few dirty plates. You looked at him, then down at the table you were cleaning. You hadn't even realized how hard you'd been wiping them down, leaving them sparkling like diamonds.

"Guess I'm stronger than I thought," you chuckled.

"Well save your strength," he responded. "You might need it on your way home."

You raised your eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Owen scoffed, before taking a remote off the bar counter and switching on one of the TV's. "Check this out."

He flipped to a news channel, showing live feed of a protest in front of Wayne Hall.

"They're getting worse and worse," he sighed. "You haven't heard anything about them?"

You shook your head, your eyes stuck on the screen. "I mean when I moved here I heard there was some controversy about the new Mayor. But, I didn't know it got this bad..."

He walked over to you, handing you something wrapped in a napkin. "Here, you might need this more than me. Being a girl and everything, I mean."

You gave him a puzzled expression as you took the item from his hand. It was small, but it was heavy. "What is it?"

"Open it."

You squinted at him before turning to the object again. You carefully unfolded the napkin, sharply inhaling once it was revealed to you:

It was a practically new, shining pocket knife.

You quickly wrapped it up in the napkin again, baffled that Owen would even think of giving it to you.

"What... Owen I don't even know how to use one of these. And this looks new, I can't just take this from you."

Owen rolled his eyes, heading back to the kitchen. "Just take it, you never know when you might need it."

After leaving Pogo's, you quickly learned why Owen wanted you to have the knife.

Seconds after stepping out the door, a man wearing a ski mask ran past you, shoving you roughly into a wall as he went. You grunted as your back hit the bricks, shocked by the unexpected contact.

What the...

You looked in the direction he ran, where a large group of people were beginning to gather around something. You squinted at the soon-to-be mob, realizing the object they were surrounding was a limo.

Your curiosity definitely did not outweigh your caution. Not wanting to be involved in any sort of scuffle, you tucked your hands in your pockets and hurried home, holding the switchblade tightly. Arthur wasn't here to walk you home tonight.

Your back stiffened.

Arthur...

You walked so quickly that night that you hadn't even noticed that you were already at your apartment. You were nervous as you stepped inside the building, worried that you would run into him. Cautiously, you looked side to side as you approached your mailbox...

Coast is clear.

You would have to speak to him eventually. You knew that. But God, it was going to be incredibly awkward.

You sucked your teeth, shaking your head as you stepped in the elevator. That was no way to think about the situation. You were an adult now, and adults have open conversations discussing their emotions. Avoiding him would be immature and childish.

I'll just call him when I get inside. I'll call him, and we can talk about things. He probably understands. He probably wants to talk right now too.

You stepped out of the elevator, looking down at your jacket pocket and rummaging through it for your keys.

He's probably thinking the same thing right now. We'll just sit down with some tea and lay it all out on the table. I don't even know why I'm freaking out. By tomorrow, everything will be back to normal-

"JESUS CHRIST!"

You dropped your keys on the floor, startled by what you had found.

A beaten, bloody, disheveled Arthur was there, his head pressed against your door. His breathing was slow and strained, his eyes focused on the floor beneath him. He didn't look up at your exclamation. He didn't even flinch.

You snatched your keys off the ground, rushing to his side.

"Arthur. Arthur are you alright? What happened?"

He didn't respond. You looked at his clothes - They were filthy. His entire outfit was covered with dirt, ripped and torn in different spots. His wig was gone, his clown makeup slightly smeared and red spots spattered on his vest.

Why would Arthur's own blood be spattered on him?

"Arthur? Can you hear me?"

Your lips pressed tightly against his. He closed his eyes, letting himself become lost in your embrace. You pulled away suddenly, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Oh, my poor Arthur..." Your soft hand cupped his cheek. He placed his hand over yours, sighing with relief that you were finally home. He needed you so badly. "I didn't mean what I said earlier, I want you Arthur. I was just so scared of my own feelings that I didn't know what to say. I'm so sorry, I-" Arthur shushed you, smiling as he placed a small kiss on your forehead. "There's no need to apologize."

You placed your hand on his back, looking up at his face. Still no response.

Your palms were trembling with anxiety as you opened your apartment entrance. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he speaking? You didn't know what to do, you had never been in a situation like this before. You were panicking. What if Arthur was really hurt? Was he about to die? Was he going to die with you as the only witness to his death? Would it look like you murdered Arthur? Would you go to jail? Was he going to be okay?

You looked him up and down again. He wasn't bleeding from anywhere besides his nose, and there were no bullet or stab wounds on him. Thank God.

But what if nothing happened to him? What if he did something? Why was there blood spattered on him? It didn't make any sense if it was his blood...

Unless it wasn't his.

You ran to the bathroom, tearing apart the contents of your sink's cabinet. You took the first-aid kit into your shaking hands, practically hyperventilating by the time you reached Arthur again.

"Arthur, I'm gonna take you inside and we're gonna call the police, okay? You need to go to a hospital-"

"No."

He raised his head, but his eyes still didn't reach yours. They remained on the ground, locked on to something that wasn't there.

You were stunned.

"Are... Are you sure? At least let me take care of this..."

You took an alcohol swab from the kit, trying to steady your hand as you reached for a red lump on his cheek.

He put his hand up before you could touch his face, calmly pushing your hand to the side.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

You were completely bewildered by his behavior. What exactly happened to him?

"Uh... Yeah. Yeah, of course."

Arthur sighed, nodding in thanks. You stepped to the side as he walked in, watching as he collapsed on your sofa. Your eyes never left him. You took off your shoes and coat, your fingers carefully sliding the knife out of your coat pocket and holding it behind you.

You stepped into your bathroom, trying to calm yourself down as you changed into your pajamas. Something was wrong with Arthur. Very wrong. He wasn't behaving like himself at all. Whatever happened, you knew you weren't going to find out tonight. You took a deep breath. There was no point in worrying about it now. The important thing was that Arthur was safe.

But were you?

You slowly opened your bathroom door, the blade hidden in the waistband of your sweatpants. You looked at the run-down clown on your couch. He was curled up into a fetal position, his back facing you.

You quietly backed away from him, your gaze trained on his rising and falling ribcage as you slid into your bed.

"I would be careful with that guy if I was you. What if he's a little... you know. Crazy."

Lucy's words rang in your mind. You clutched the blade tightly in your grip, holding it closely to your chest.

"What, Arthur? No, he's a little weird but he's harmless."

You hoped you were right.

[bangtanbabeloveyourself]

Tarot Card Taehyung Ch. 2

Pairing: Female witch reader x warlock Taehyung ft. Jimin

Genre: Fantasy, angst, friends to lovers, future smut.

Word count: 5.7k

Chapters: 1|2

Summary: After hours of talking, Y/N decides that going to New Orleans with or without Taehyung. A nosy black bird causes a fateful encounter with a beautiful but mysterious stranger. A bad draw of the cards may prove more dangerous than anyone could have predicted. 

Posted: July 15th, 2019

You stared at yourself in the mirror, having just put your barely-damp hair up in a bun on the top of your head. You had found another wit--warlock. Well, technically your grandma did, but that’s not important. What is important is the fact that you now have someone to ask all of the questions you had built up since your grandma had passed away. 

The only thing you couldn’t seem to figure out was why your grandma had never mentioned him before. Apparently this was his third year coming to your grandma’s, yet she never mentioned another magical being. A loud shrill whistle from the kitchen interrupted your thoughts. You shook your head and left the bathroom, walking out to take the kettle off the stove. 

You looked over to find Taehyung pouting out the window, his mind on other things. You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Stop pouting over there. You really didn’t think I was going to let you sleep with me, did you?”

He turned to you, his arms crossed in front of him. “Kind of, yeah. Am I blind or did you not have a painting of me downstairs?” 

Your cheeks flushed bright red before you busied yourself with pouring two cups of tea. “I told you! Sometimes the magic just takes over when I paint. I didn’t do it consciously.” 

“Uh huh. I know that’s what you’re telling yourself, but I can see through you.” He said as he walked over and plopped down on your sofa. 

With his back turned to you, you paused for a moment, fanning your face slightly. You weren’t lying. You really had no control over that painting, but Taehyung wasn’t wrong either. If you hadn’t figured it out, you’d both probably be in your bed right now. An enticing idea too, but learning more about your culture outweighed it. Besides, sleeping with him would probably complicate things. It's best to stay professional, right?

Taehyung cleared his throat, turning back to look at you. "Yo, witch. Are you coming or what?" 

You narrowed your eyes at him before grabbing the two mugs. "That's awfully close to a very unkind word Mr. Kim. I'd be a little more careful if I were you." 

He rolled his eyes and accepted the mug you brought him. "Oh please. You couldn't stop saying the word earlier. Now I'm not allowed to call you that? What would you prefer I called you? Hermione?" 

You set your mug on your coffee table before plopping down next to him on the couch, causing him to spill some tea on his hand, a smug smile on your lips as you hear him curse. 

"Aww, poor baby. Karma's a bitch," you teased before reaching for your mug, blowing on the top before taking a sip. 

He set his mug down, blowing on his now reddening hand. "Yeah, she's a witch too," he said with a pout on his lips. 

You rolled your eyes before turning to face him. You crossed your legs and leaned back against the armrest of the couch. “Oh stop. Come here.” You reached out to grab his hand, holding it between both of yours. You closed your eyes and stayed silent. 

Taehyung watched you with annoyment. It was just a slight burn and you jumped at the chance to use your magic. It was the same with all witches. Once you discovered you had powers, you used any excuse you could think of to use them. Everyone was so magic reliant. He hated it. 

Your sigh brought him out of his thoughts. He raised an eyebrow. “What now?” 

You smirked and moved your hands, revealing his still reddened hand. He looked at his hand and then back to you, his eyebrow still cocked up in confusion. You gave him a condescending smile before you smacked the burn on his hand, causing him to cry out. “What the fuck was that for?” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. “I do not use every excuse to use my magic.” 

His eyes widened slightly before he shrugged- an attempt at feigning innocence. “Who said that?”

You narrowed your eyes before raising your hand to smack his hand again. This time he jerked his hand back. “Fine, fine. How did you know that’s what I was thinking?” 

You wiggled your hands in front of him. “Magic, duh.” He rolled his eyes and tried to comment but you cut him off quickly. “I can see and hear what a person is thinking, but only when I have direct access to their palms. And I can only hear what they’re currently thinking. I don’t have access to other parts of their mind or memories.” 

He pursed his lips before he rested his arm against the back of the couch, resting his head in his uninjured hand. “So you can basically read minds by touching people’s palms? You know, you’d make a great palm reader. I could use an assistant when I travel.” 

“And con all of those poor women of their money like you do with your powers? No thank you. I have a little more respect for my abilities than to use them to be a con artist.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Well, I’ve got to make a living somehow. This just happens to work for me.” 

"Most people get normal jobs." 

He shrugged. "If I had a normal job, I wouldn't have been able to travel as much as I have. I wouldn't have seen what I've seen." He lowered his voice. "I wouldn't have found you." 

You stared at him for a moment before you saw the smile creeping on his face. You shoved his shoulder. "Oh whatever. Get over yourself. Those pretty boy plays of yours won't work on me now." He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, leaning back against the armrest again. "Tell me more about magic. Tell me about where you're from. Tell me how you met my grandma." 

He pursed his lips before sighing. "Fine. Just stop being so mean to me. I am a guest after all." 

You rolled your eyes before pulling your legs up to your chest. You rested your chin on top of your knees. "A guest whom also broke into my house. I could have called the cops." 

"Fine, fine. You win. Geez.” he mumbled before taking a sip of his tea. 

You smiled softly before giving him your full attention as he started his story. 

***

“And she smacked me upside the head for that.” 

You giggled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s exactly something she would do too.” You rubbed your arms before sighing.

Taehyung frowned. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” 

You nodded. “I do. She was the only one that cared to teach me about magic. It was scary going through this. My mom was never any good at it so she stopped trying long before she had me. But because of that, Grams was the only one that could help me.” 

“Why didn’t your mother try to send you to the academy? If she came from a magical family, she would have had knowledge about it.” 

You furrowed your brow before crossing your arms. “Honestly, I don’t know and that’s what pisses me off the most. I could have had a chance to be better at this. To be around other people like me. Instead, she home schooled me and only let me talk to Grams about it. She wouldn’t even let me talk about it around my dad.” 

Taehyung bit his lip as he watched you. He could see how frustrated you had gotten. “Well, no use getting upset about it now. The past is the past after all.” 

You looked over at him, a boxy grin spreading across his face. You couldn’t help but softly smile back. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

 Finally, after hours of talking, you stood from the couch and stretched a bit. "Alright. It's best to get some sleep now. It's going to be a busy day tomorrow." 

Taehyung cocked his head to the side and looked at you. "Why's that?" 

You smiled before giving the top of his head a soft pat. "Because I'm leaving." 

"Leaving? Where do you plan on going?" 

"To that academy you talked about. I need to explore my roots. The only real question here is whether or not you're willing to go with me." You looked down to him, fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt as you awaited his response. 

He sighed as his blue eyes met yours. "If I let you go alone, you're going to cause some sort of trouble. I know it. But I'm also not particularly fond of my home. I haven’t been back since I left. So I think it's probably best you go alone."

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, don’t go with me then. But I’m going whether you come with me or not. So I’m going to need you to leave now, I need to get to bed.” 

Taehyung stood before giving you a cheeky grin. “You mean, I’m not sleeping with you tonight?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, fighting back the blush that dared to spread across your face. “E-excuse me?” 

Taehyung laughed before walking towards the door. “I’m just kidding doll. Although, you did seem to really want me in your bed only a few hours ago..” he trailed off as he cracked the door open.

You shot a glare at him and he put his hands up in surrender. “Aii. Calm down, I’m only joking. I can’t ever catch a break with you,” he muttered as he walked out of your apartment.   

And with that, Taehyung had headed back down to his tent. You shook your head and finally plopped down onto your bed. Today had been one of the craziest days of your life. You had so much running through your head. You wondered how you’d ever get to sleep. 

You turned over in your bed, looking out the window to see the top of that obnoxious purple tent and the faint light inside it. Maybe you should have let him sleep in your apartment. You shook your head and rolled onto your back. No, you didn't want to risk anything happening between you two. He was just a pretty faced con man. You couldn't fall for those deep eyes or that smile either.  

But on the other hand, your grandma did like him for some reason. She let him stick around at least. He had a certain charm to him. He was infuriatingly likeable. Taehyung did appear to care though. He may seem immature, but he did also hold your grandma in high regard.

 You yawned softly before rolling over to your side again to see the light in his tent had gone out. You pursed your lips before finally reaching over to turn out your lamp when a small black figure at your window made your gasp. You squinted in an attempt to make it out better. It looked like some bird, a raven, maybe even a crow. Before you could get a closer look, it suddenly spread its wings and took off, moving to land on the top of Taehyung’s tent before letting out a loud caw. 

“Stupid bird.” You muttered before finally flipping your light off and closing your eyes. 

***

The next morning passed quickly as you attempted to get everything in order to allow you to go on this unexpected trip. You had to go to work and figure a way around your schedule. Luckily, your boss was very understanding about the situation. He was a sweet older gentleman (whom you were certain had a thing for your grandma before she passed away) so he helped you and even gave you your check early to help accommodate for your trip. You tried to refuse it but he wouldn’t have it, despite your insisting that you had enough money saved back. After that you had to go back and pack. 

You and your indecisiveness made it almost impossible to pack effectively. You had clothes thrown about your apartment as you tried to fit as many items as you could into as small of a bag as you could. You wanted to travel light but you still wanted to be prepared. 

As you continued to rummage through your clothing, there was a knock on your door. Before you could answer, Taehyung had cracked it open and attempted to come in. “You’re not naked, are you?” he asked as he continued to peek into the room. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m not. But you’d love it if I was, wouldn’t you?” 

He smirked as he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped into your apartment. “Could you blame me if I did?” he asked cheekily. 

“Yes.” You stated simply as you tried to shove another shirt into your bed. 

He watched you with amusement. “You know, you could just use a second bag.” 

You groaned before stopping completely and looked over to him. “I’m trying to avoid using a second bag. I don’t want to bring too much with me because they charge by the bag.” 

Taehyung nodded before he walked over to your closet by the door. “Do you still have Minnie’s bags? I know she had a very special one for trips. She let me borrow it once. It was gray and it had a little crescent moon on it.” 

You walked over to the closet and reached up on the tip of your toes to grab a box that continued some of your grandma’s things. “I think so. I always remember her using that bag when we went on trips together. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t. It’s a magic bag. It can hold ten times as much as a normal bag could without ever stretching out the bag.” He said as he dug through the box as you held it. “Ah ha! Here it is.” He pulled it out and showed it to you. It was slightly bigger than a satchel bag and was a light gray with a darker gray moon on it. 

You put the box back in the closet before closing it and taking the bag from Taehyung. “This would make all this packing a million times easier. Thanks.” You beamed up at him. 

He gave you a soft smile in return before you made your way back over to your bag and started to unpack it and pack the satchel bag instead. “This is going to make a world of a difference. I have no idea how long I’m going to be gone so I can pack a lot more with me just in case.” 

“You don’t know how long you’re going to be gone? What are you expecting here doll? A Lord of the Rings type journey? It’s just New Orleans. A few days should suffice.” He said as he cleared your clothes off of a spot on the couch and sat down. 

You blushed softly. “It may seem childish, but maybe I could find more family down there. Maybe I’ll really like being in that community and want to stay for awhile. You never know.” 

He sighed before leaning back against the couch. “If you say so. I’m telling you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. You’re going to be disappointed. After Katrina hit, a lot of the community left, including the magical community. Before I left, the community was less than a hundred people. I can’t imagine that the population has grown since then. Not the real magical community at least.” 

“What do you mean the real one?” 

“You’ve seen some of the cult movies, right? The witchy shit is becoming more popular these days. Every outcasted girl wants to be a witch. Every outcasted guy wants to be a vampire. That community has grown bigger in New Orleans over the years. It makes me worry for you.” He looked you over once, causing you to stop folding your shirt. 

You put your hands on your hips. “And why does that make you worry for me?” 

“If you couldn’t figure out on your own that I was a warlock, how are you going to be able to tell the difference between the fake ones and the real ones?” he said with a smirk spreading across his lips. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh please. We both know I was able to figure it out. I just figured it out a little differently than another witch might.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “Okay, so if that’s true, then are you telling me you’re going to bring all of your paint supplies with you and try to paint a witch? Then what? Go and search for her in the city? That could take weeks!” 

You shrugged your shoulders and continued packing. “Well, not exactly, but sort of, I guess. That’s why I said it might take a while. I’m in no rush for this. I’ve waited this long. Another couple weeks won’t kill me.” 

He sighed before running a hand through his hair. “You’re something else Y/N. You really are.” Before you had a chance to comment, he stood and walked back towards the door. “Well, when you’re done packing, come get me. I’ll take you to the train station and see you off.” 

You nodded to him and then he left, leaving you to your packing. With all of the extra space you had, you were able to pack about two weeks worth of clothes. That in itself would have made you ecstatic. The fact that you could fit your sketchbook, pencils, all of your bathroom things and still had plenty of space had you on cloud nine. Magic truly was amazing. 

After a final sweep of your apartment and a quick trip to the gas station for snacks, Taehyung and you set off to the train station. It was only about a twenty minute drive and the would be awkward silence was covered by the sound of the radio playing and the soft singing by Taehyung. 

You had tried to occupy yourself by scrolling through your phone, but you found your mind wandering as you listened to his voice. By the end of the car ride you and Taehyung had managed a couple of duets together which caused you both to laugh as he parked the car. 

“You have a very pretty voice.” You said softly to him as he opened the door for you. 

It may have been the first time you’ve really seen him blush before. “Oh, uh thanks.” He cleared his throat before he continued. “Now, I’ll go with you and wait until your train leaves, but after that you’re on your own.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black book. He handed it to you. 

“What is this?” You asked as you started to flip through the book. 

“It’s a book of useful information for you. Some people you can try to find, safe places for witches to go, stuff like that. It might be a little out of date though. I haven’t been there in over 6 years. But the academy address should still be the same.”

You closed the book and tucked it into your satchel before smiling up at him. “Thank you, Taehyung. I really do appreciate it.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and pulled his phone out to check the time in an attempt to hide his blush from you. “Yeah, well we should probably get going in there. They’re probably going to get started boarding the train soon.” 

He reached down to grab your hand, tugging at you to follow along. He quickly realised what he did and dropped your hand. “S-sorry. Force of habit.” 

You smiled softly and shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Thank you for coming to see me off. I really wish you would change your mind about coming with me though. I think you’d be a much better guide than this little book.” 

He waved off your words as you both found the train that you were going to be boarding. “I told you, I’d really rather not go back to that place. I left for a reason, you know.” 

You shrugged before you sat down on a bench near the train. “‘The past is the past after all.’” You quoted him. “Besides, it couldn’t have been that bad. If it’s been over six years, it’d probably be a good time to come back.” 

He shook his head before sitting on a bench across from you. He pulled out his deck of tarot cards. “Sorry doll, nothing you say is going to convince me to change my mind.” 

You watched as he began to shuffle them. “Do you ever go anywhere without those cards?” 

He gasped, as if offended. “I would never. You might think it’s all a con, but I trust the cards. If they’re used right, they can be very useful tools.” 

You rolled your eyes as you see a few girls starting to notice him. “Oh sure, and they’re not just a tool to pick up and con those poor unknowing girls.” 

He looked at you and smirked. “Is that jealousy I hear, Y/N?” 

You scoff. “You’d love it if it was, wouldn’t you?” 

“Ahh, deflecting the real question. That says a lot about you doll, whether you believe it or not.” He said before turning his attention to one of the girls that had walked over towards him. They began talking about his cards and you rolled your eyes as you tried to focus on something else. 

You looked around the station. There weren’t many people. Granted, this particular train station was not very large. As you looked around, you noticed a single black bird perched on top of your train. The more you looked at it, the more you felt like it was staring at you. You didn’t like the vibe it was giving off. It made you feel uneasy.  You continued to stare at it as you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture. As soon as you snapped the photo, the bird cawed and moved down a couple of train cars. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had a strange feeling about this bird. But it was just a bird. Why were you worrying so much?

You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard the obnoxious laugh from one of the girls attempting to flirt with Taehyung. You rolled your eyes before you got up, Taehyung not even noticing you leave. Instead, you decided to follow the bird. You felt a little silly at first, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to follow it.  Every time you got closer to it, it would hop over to the next train car and wait for you to get close again before hopping over to the next. 

You probably looked like a moron following around this bird. You tried your best to make it seem like you were just wandering about instead of following a random bird. As you approached the rear of the train, the bird spread its wings and took flight, but only for a short distance. It flew over to an opened door before dropping to the ground. This time the bird waited for you to catch up. You were only a few feet away from it before it cawed at you and walked through the door and flew down a long corridor. You hesitated for a moment, checking to see if there way anyone around before heading in after the bird. 

You walked down the long corridor, listening to the soft caws coming from the bird. You really felt stupid. This was just a mindless animal. But then why would you keep having this weird, unexplainable feelings? It just didn’t make sense. Something was going on. Being so lost in thought, you never noticed when the cawing stopped. You rounded the corner that the hallway had taken and ran directly into the person in front of you. 

You fell back a little before you bowed in an attempt to apologize. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” 

You heard a chuckle before you looked up to the man in front of you. You nearly gasped. He was breathtaking. Deep brown eyes framed by wavy blonde hair parted down the middle; plump pink lips turned upwards into a smirk. “Well hello to you too.” He took a step back, giving you a bow in return. “No need to apologize. I wasn’t watching where I was going either. Although, I’m afraid I’m not sorry for running into such a beautiful lady.” 

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks immediately. “Oh, well uhm. Thank you.” 

He smiled at you which only made your heart ache. His smile was so genuine that it even touched his eyes, crinkling as if they were smiling as well. “My name is Jimin. And you are?” 

You extended your hand to offer a handshake. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Jimin.” 

He took your hand in his, giving it a firm shake. “Likewise, Y/N. Now, can I ask what you’re doing all the way down this corridor? You don’t look like you work at the train station.” 

You blushed before you let out an uneasy chuckle. “Well, you’d be right about that. I, uh, was just bored. We got here a little too early and I was restless.” As if you would actually tell him you were chasing a bird. 

He raised an eyebrow. “We?” 

You nodded. “Yes, my friend is waiting for me by the train. He got caught up in some work thing and I got restless so I left.” 

Jimin nodded before he motioned towards the exit. “Well, let’s get you back out there so you don’t miss your train.” You started to walk back, feeling Jimin’s eyes on you as you walked. “So, where are you traveling to?” he asked as he moved in step with your pace. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you held back a wince. The weird feeling from earlier had changed. It had started to become almost painful. The funny feeling had turned into a dull ache.  You tried to ignore it, chopping it up to hunger pains as you tried to focus on Jimin. 

"Y/N?" Jimin asked as he noticed you falter in your pace. 

You shook your head and tried to give him a smile. "I'm sorry, I zoned out there. What did you ask?"

He looked you over once before turning his attention to the exit. "I was just wondering where you were traveling to."

“Oh! I’m actually on my way to New Orleans.” 

This piqued his interest. "New Orleans? That's crazy. I'm heading there as well." 

"That is crazy. Are you going for business or pleasure?" You asked as you finally reached the exit. 

He motioned for you to go first, giving him the opportunity to look you over again, a wicked grin growing on his lips. "I'm hoping for a bit of both."

After you both made it back out to the station, you could see your train had started to board. You turned to Jimin and gave him a smile. "Well, I guess it's time to get going. It's my first time on a train, so I'm a little nervous."

Jimin gave you a soft smile and a reassuring pat on your shoulder. "I'm sure you'll be alright. You seem like a pretty tough lady. Now, you go on and have a good trip. Maybe we'll run into each other again." 

You nodded. "I hope you have safe travels! Thank you for walking me back. The last thing I needed today was to miss this train." You said with a chuckle. 

"And we wouldn't want that. If you don't hurry you won't get to say goodbye to your friend." Jimin said as he pulled his sleeve up to check the time on his watch. "It's almost time to go." 

You gasped and started to head off towards Taehyung. You turned to wave to Jimin. "Here's to hoping we get the chance to meet again in New Orleans!" 

The smirk that appeared on Jimin's lips sent another ache in your gut. "I hope we do, Y/N."  And then he walked off towards the opposite end of the train. 

You looked after him for another moment, resting your hand on your stomach. You really needed to grab something to eat. You rummaged through your bag until a hand grabbed your shoulder and made you jump. 

"Aiiish. Calm down, doll. It's just me. You're going to miss boarding." Taehyung said as he grabbed your hand and tried to give you a little tug. "Hey, Earth to Y/N. What's wrong?" 

You shook your head before turning to walk past Taehyung. "Oh, uh. Nothing. Let's go. I'm going to miss boarding." 

"That's what I just said." He mumbled as he followed after you. “Where did you go, anyway?” 

You shrugged off his words before stopping in front of your train car. “Nowhere important.” 

Taehyung looked you over once before sighing and shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “I don’t have a good feeling about this anymore, Y/N. Are you sure you really want to do this?” 

Taehyung didn’t have a good feeling either. Maybe you shouldn’t go. No, you had to go. Taehyung just didn’t want to deal with his family. You were going to find our more about yours. You squeezed the strap of your grandmother’s bag before nodding. “Yes. You coming into my life was the push I needed. There’s no point in putting this off. I need to know more.” You turned to look at Taehyung. “Thank you for that.” 

He waved you off. “Just be careful. Not all witches are good witches. Use my book, okay?” You smiled and nodded before taking the step up onto the train. You walked through the door, moving down to find your seat. As you moved to your seat, Taehyung stayed in his spot. 

He had started to get a headache as soon as you had left, but it wasn’t a normal headache. With every pulse, your name would flash into his mind. It made it incredibly hard to focus on his tarot readings. That’s when he went to look for you. It eased once he saw you, but now that you were boarding the train, it was starting to get worse. Something wasn’t right, he just couldn’t figure out what.

Finally Taehyung moved to sit on the bench. Maybe getting off of his feet would ease the pain, but he rammed his knee into the side of the bench, his tarot cards flying out of his pocket and spilling onto the concrete. He cursed as he rubbed his knee before leaning down to pick up the cards. 

He gasped at the way the cards had fallen. All of the cards were facing down except for the card on the very top of the scattered pile. The Tower. An ominous card that always indicated some form of disaster. He shook his head as he quickly gathered his cards back up.

It was just a coincidence. It wasn’t real, right? Y/N was just going to New Orleans. It’s not like she’d actually find anything down there. He tucked the cards back into his pocket before it hit him. She might not find anything, but something might find her. 

The loud shriek of the train whistle made Taehyung jump. He turned to look as the train slowly began to move. Something bad was going to happen to that train. Something bad was going to happen to Y/N. And she has no idea.  

‘Damn witches and their cryptic magic’, he thought before he took off in a full sprint, trying to catch up to the now moving train. He had to run with everything he had in him before he was able to grab a hold of the railing on the back of the train car. Once on the safe side of the railing, he collapsed onto the ground panting. He leaned his head back against the door of the train car as he looked at the now shrinking station. He was going home whether he wanted to or not now. 

After taking a few minutes to catch his breath, Taehyung finally stood and opened the door. Luckily very few people had gotten on the train at the last station. No one paid him any mind as he made he was down the little hallway. He peeked through the windows of every room before he finally found yours. 

He knocked on the door and waved to you. You gasped and stood to let him into the room. “Taehyung! What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to come.” 

He gave you his big boxy grin and shrugged. “I couldn’t let you go through New Orleans during Mardi Gras all on your own. If you’re going to be down there for as long as you say, you’ll be staying during it,” he said as he moved into the car and sat down on the seat across from where you had been sitting. 

He didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to worry you. He wasn’t entirely sure what these feelings were, or if anything was actually going to happen. For now, it was best to just see how things went. He might not be able to do much, but he knows that if something happens, he needs to be there for you. 

You crossed your arms before sitting down across from him, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break onto your face. He actually did care enough to come with you. But you couldn’t let him know you wanted him here. You couldn’t let him know that it made that stomach ache go away. He’d never let you live it down if he did. You cleared your throat. “I can handle myself, you know.” 

He gave you a soft smile. “I’m sure you can. But I couldn’t get your voice out of my head.” He put his hands into his jacket pockets, his fingers moving over his tarot deck.  “I think I’ll regret it if I don’t go.”  

[jharvas]

Character Questionnaire: Jharvas Suvorsath

BASICS -

1. Height?

5′10″. One of the tallest boys back home.

2. Eye colour?

Dark blue, I think? (He’s correct.)

3. Do they need glasses?

Nope. I can see just fine. It’s the communicating thing that I need help with.

4. Scars and birthmark?

None. I’ve been in a few...fights, but I’ve never gotten a scar. Maybe this year? 

5. Tattoos and piercings?

I have a lot. Should I take off my shirt? (He has a lot of tribal tattoos over his shoulders and back and torso. He doesn’t have piercings, though.)

6. Right or left handed?

Right-handed. 

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

I can’t ...communicate without the aid of my familiar, my companion, Kiora. (Kiora’s the black mare that’s always with him. Back in the depths, she took on the form of a giant gray seahorse. On land, she’s a giant landhorse. Get it? Ugh. They were magically bonded by his own tribe when he was still a child after they realized he was never going to develop his voice.)

8. Do they have any allergies?

Nope. I’m allergy-free.

9. Favourite colour?

Blue. Any shade of blue related to the seas or oceans or water. It’s my whole thing.

10. Typical outfits?

Anything comfortable, anything I can run and swim in, really. If it’s easy to take off, I’ll wear it. I do a lot of things on the surface now, but I still end up wanting to be in the oceans, which is probably just a triton thing, so I lean towards clothes I can quickly take off or won’t be a hassle to me underwater. Of course, protection is still paramount, so I have few armor lying around for the exact same use.

11. Do they wear any makeup?

Nope. I don’t need to. (He also doesn’t know how.)

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

I like my spear, though I also have daggers on me as well as a light crossbow I rarely get to use. I mean, why waste crossbow bolts when I can just blast monsters from far away?

PERSONALITY -

13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Optimistic, definitely. I’ve been through a lot as a kid, before and after my tribe magically bonded me with Kiora, and kids can be cruel at times, so because of all my bad experiences, I’ve pretty much learned to look at the brighter side of things, especially these days.

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

What’s the difference? Oh. Yeah, I’m an extrovert. Definitely an extrovert.

15. What are their pet peeves?

Hmm. That’s a tough question. I guess...if I have to name one...I’d go with...lines? I hate lines. 

16. What bad habits do they have?

I guess I can be graceless at times? I was never taught how to dance, so, yeah...

17. Do they have any phobias?

I don’t have one, I think? Though I can’t be too sure. Maybe I just haven’t found that out yet.

18. How do they display affection?

Passionately. I am a passionate lover. I like to tell someone I love them, show them how much, and celebrate with them and stuff.

19. How competitive are they?

I can be very competitive. I’m a triton, so I was brought up to believe we’re far superior to other races just because we spent all our time protecting the rest of them from the horrors of our plane, but I’ve seen some stuff and other races can surprise you...which is why I have to prove I’m still better than them. I’m just kidding. I just love the feeling of winning but if I lose, then I lose. No harm, no foul. It won’t be the end of my world. I’m not perfect.

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

Hmm. I honestly can’t think of a single thing to change about me. Maybe my weapon of choice? Spears are nice but three pointed ends would be nicer than one.

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

Nope. I’m just a simple guy who likes simple things like beautiful women, protecting them, swimming, maybe a bit of fighting, and...oysters. I do love my oysters. 

BACKSTORY -

22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

My dad’s name is Jenres, and my mother’s name is Loryn. I have a brother and a sister, Jolos and Dhorimyn.

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

Still alive, yeah. They’re still back home. Jolos and Dhorimyn have even stepped up to protect our tribe. They’re much better warriors than me, that’s for sure.

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

Our tribe’s settlement is east of Hegaehend, far east, deep within the oceans there. I doubt you’ve heard of it, but it’s called the City of Sh'lafijn. Some call it Marai.  

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

Yeah, I had childhood friends but I don’t think I actually had a best friend. Wait, no, Kiora... Kiora is definitely my childhood best friend. She was always there for me. She’s the bestest friend.

26. Have they had any pets?

Nope. Kiora’s more of a friend than a pet.

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like?

We were smack dab in the middle. My dad was a great fisherman and warrior, and my mom was a witty merchant, so we got by really well. Growing up with two siblings and Kiora was pretty fun, though there were bad times. Still, the good outweighed the bad, so I can’t complain.

28. What is their educational background?

I was trained by the best, taught by the best. I wasn’t the best student but my mentors didn’t have a hard time with me. I learned fast and learned better through experience over books.

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

A warrior. A guardian of the depths. A protector. Much like our people of old. I like to think I’m on my way.

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

It gets better. It always does. Trust in your tribe, in your friends. They’ll keep you swimming.

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

I was bullied. On account of needing Kiora to communicate with others. Before her, I was bullied for not being able to communicate. It’s a bad situation either way. But I had my fair share of friends, protectors, people I can trust who helped me out. I’d do anything for them. Everything I’ve done is for them, because of them.

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

My dad, definitely. He’s a great warrior and provider. My mom, too. She’s worked hard all her life. That perseverance is admirable.

PRESENT -

33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

I go where the current takes me. I rent rooms wherever, though I like taverns close by the sea. Arx is a good place for me. I go there a lot, even for just a swim.

34. What is their most treasured possession?

Oh, man. I don’t think I have one, really. My memories?

35. What is their drink of choice?

Bilgewater. Hands down. Best drink ever. (Bilgewater is the bluish-brown, sometimes jet black, concoction that's made by soaking the inner organs of various sea creatures soaking in a fermented brine and then running them through a sieve to remove the bones and viscera. It's on most tavern's menu for around 5 copper pieces a glass. Your friendly neighborhood fisher can also brew it for you for the same price. The only side effect of this drink is that the lingering taste of rotten, brackish seafood remains on the palette for a few hours.)

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

I’m still checking the waters. So far, I haven’t really gotten the incentive to choose a side. Maybe when it comes to it, I’ll finally get to decide. But for now? Wherever the current takes me.

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

Yep. Part of the job. Protecting our tribe, people I like... I try my best not to kill but if I don’t have a choice, then I don’t have a choice.

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

To never stop growing. I think I’m keeping it.

LOVE -

39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

Oh, wow, well, uhh, if I remember correctly, it was...fine, I guess. She was better than me, I think, though it was very straight to the point, just lips smacking and that was it. I don’t recall any hint of passion there, but it was fair for a first kiss.

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

Nope. Not really looking for one, but if push comes to shove, then I’ll happily shove back.

41. Have they ever been in love?

Once or twice. I was in love with a librarian before but she was too focused on her work. I don’t think she even knew I existed.

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

Sure. It’s a normal thing, just life. That librarian thing, I guess. Losing a friend in a battle. Stuff happens in life. That’s how you know you’re alive.

SPIRITUALITY -

43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

For a time, I followed Melora. Just because everyone else back home was doing it. But then, Kiora happened, and I never really heard from Melora, so over time, that gradually slowed down. Also, I left for the surface, so it was like forgetting how to talk to tuna, their slang and lingo.

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

Uhh, I guess my body just...decays? Maybe I turn into seafoam or something. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’d be dead by then, so there’s no use thinking on that.

45. What is their spirit animal?

Kraken. 100% kraken. Absolutely.

[theriptidepodcast]

Episode 1 Transcript

THE GIRL WITH A FEW OF THE GIFTS

SOUND: DRIPPING WATER, WAVES, GENERAL CAVE NOISES, FOOTSTEPS MUSIC: PROBABLY ROCK OR SOMETHING OF THE SORT TARRIN: (humming along with the music at first before noticing You) Oh hello. How the hell’d you get in here? Ugh, no matter. I was just about to check on my second favourite girl, I suppose you can tag along. Not like you have any way out of here. Come on. In this one she’s in Hat Yai Thailand. Summer of ‘53 by the looks of it. Oh, 1953, sorry. Centuries are kind of important I suppose. You ready? SOUND: WHOOSH, BUBBLE POPPING MUSIC: FADES SOUND: LAUGHTER AND MUMBLING AND GENERAL SOUNDS OF A SMALL TOWN, PERHAPS A CHICKEN TARRIN: What a dingy place... Oh sorry, I forgot you can't see it. I'll describe it for you, minnow. Looks like we’re in the middle of town. Look at that poor child. Oh, don’t worry. No one can see us. This is technically a memory. Technically. That being said, don’t touch anything. Don’t know what you are, but I can’t imagine timespace will be kind to you unless you’re like her and her ilk. I think they may just be timespace, y’know. SOUND: EVERYTHING QUIETS, THOUGH THERES PROBABLY STILL A CHICKEN OR TWO TARRIN: Oh, what’s this? Look, minnow. That little girl was shunned by society. Whyever would that be? Is it because she’s was orphan? Because she was quiet? Because she was blunt? Because she could see into peoples minds and pick apart their futures with a simple touch? Probably all of that. Like a good mixture of all of that. Look how scared these people were, minnow. Of a little girl, of all things. Look at how they cowered and fled and- ESME: Uh, excuse me- SOUND: DOOR SLAMMING, RUNNING FOOTSTEPS TARRIN: Pathetic, really. Oh, but what’s this now, minnow? Someone’s coming, and fast. Down through the empty stalls and over livestock. A red blur. Aaaand, straight into the little girl. Oh, she fell down. Well she didn’t get hit that hard, come on. SOUND: ESME GRUNTING, FALLING SOUNDS, NECKLACE FALLING ONTO GROUND TARRIN: The little girl felt as if she could suddenly see everything, at least in that moment. The visions were vast and varied and blurred in their hurry to be, to make their way into her mind. The only thing the little girl could make out was a redhead girl with dark skin, freckles and scars scattered along her body like comets and stars. Oh, the runner’s necklace fell off in her hurry. How unfortunate. What will the little girl do, minnow? It seems she’d been thoroughly affected by the other running into her. As if it affected her psychic powers in a bad or intense way. I imagine that probably sucked. After she recovered, she picked up the necklace. ESME: Oh, uh, miss! You dropped your.... locket. Oh... I should probably return this to her... SOUND: WHISPERS, WAVES, FOOTSTEPS TARRIN: The little girl began following after the others’ path. It wasn’t hard, the other wasn’t exactly subtle. No, she has never been subtle. Produce carts fallen over and disturbed foliage made it clear where she was going and where she had been. The path led her outside of town, towards the beach. Towards the giant building that was home to so many deaths. It might've been some sort of mansion in its heyday, who knows. It was a place of respect now, full of shrines and offerings and such. Now I’m not one to assume other cultures, I’ve been stuck in that dingy cave longer than you 've ever been, minnow. I don’t know how they felt about death in Thailand in the 1950s, but they probably in the very least respected the dead. The girl hesitated. She hadn’t brought any offerings, and she could hear... things. Whispers. Though, they weren't the same as the whispers she heard in town. In town they were mixtures of thoughts and futures, here they were just simply whispers. Must be nice. I mean I’m not a psychic, but being forced to know everyone’s thoughts and futures and then being somewhere where you would see nothing. Feel nothing. To, for once, have your thoughts be your own. Must be nice. The footsteps led up to the building. Of course they did, minnow. Where else would a mysterious stranger go? The little girl walked in, her sense of duty outweighing her uneasiness. Wonder what that’s like. Are you attached more to your duty or your feelings, minnow? Even with your answer, which one wins in the end? The little girl approached the door, and knocked. It was a dingy broken down old building, and she knocked. Can you believe that? She knocked. Who would even answer? A ghost? SOUND: DOOR OPENING NATCHAYA: (ghost effect) Oh, hello! Who do we have here? ESME: Uh, hi... I’m looking for a girl with bright red hair. Like, like a fire? Her path leads here. TARRIN: Well what’dya know? A ghost. I’ve lived long enough that you'd figure I’d know how to bite my tongue at this point. NATCHAYA: (any ghosts just have a ghost effect to them) Oh! You need the messenger for something? Come in, come in! I’m Natchaya by the way! Pleasant to have a visitor who can see us! I’m afraid we don’t have much here... Oh, and how ever will you get up to the messenger! This place hasn't exact had good building structure for a while. SOUND: WAVES BUT FARTHER AWAY, DOOR CLOSING, WHISPERS TARRIN: Natchaya led the girl into the broken down house, hand floating close to her back. The little girl let this happen, though Natchaya’s hand would have gone through her otherwise, which would have been hilarious. The little girl was polite though. Inside was bustling with people, but for once the girls head didn’t hurt from the visions. Perhaps because they were dead, and they couldn’t fully touch her. Not in the way physical people did. ESME: Um, I’m Esmeralda... I think I prefer Esme though. NATCHAYA: You think? ESME: I just need to return this necklace, miss. NATCHAYA: Yes, of course... How to get you up these beat up stairs though... Or lack of stairs I suppose, heh... Oh, Art! Hey, has anyone seen Art? ART: You rang? TARRIN: Their voice came before their body, although I suppose one can expect that from a ghost of all things. Especially one as ridiculous as Art is. They floated down from the ceiling, in a relaxed sitting position. NATCHAYA: Art, would you mind giving her a way upstairs? She needs to get to the messenger. ART: Of course, anything for a beautiful young lady. TARRIN: Art winked, as ridiculous beings are wont to do. As I am wont to do. They waved their hands around, as if creating a symphony and debris swirled around them, creating a makeshift set of stairs. It was pretty dope. NATCHAYA: That should do you just fine. Thank you, Art. Will you be able to make the journey upstairs yourself? There shouldn’t be any troubles once you get up there, she’s just in the bedroom. Second door to your left when you get up there. TARRIN: Esme nodded and started her journey up the stairs. For anyone else it would probably be trivial. One step after the other, no matter if it was made by a ghost. For a ten year old though, it probably felt like an adventure. Oh to be a child again. Not this child though. I’m already under enough stress having a girlfriend in a superpowered family, imagine being alone and superpowered and... Alone. She walked along the hallway quietly. She did everything quietly. She had to, I imagine. The door to the bedroom was cracked open, and Esme saw the girl from the intense visions. The one who bumped into her. She was a teenager. She was talking animatedly with a ghost that didn’t have a face. When she noticed Esme lurking in the doorway she brightened even more than she had already been. As if she recognized Esme. The combination of piercing red eyes and the way she acted scared Esme. MESSENGER: Oh, who do we have here? Come in, come in. Oh, don’t mind Jira, she’s not much of a conversationalist. She’s absolutely lovely once you get to know her. TARRIN: Esme walked in, nervous. The redhead was intimidatingly sweet. Intimidating in general. But for Esme... She was intimidatingly too much. Her powers needed proximity, see? Usually being across the room from someone only gets surface level things, but being this close felt too much for Esme to handle. She had a task to do though. She had to return the necklace. MESSENGER: What brings another living soul here then? I was told this was a place reserved for the dead. TARRIN: Esme didn’t answer. Couldn’t, perhaps? Could you? MESSENGER: Not a talker either, huh? Can I at least tease a name out of you? ESME: Esmeralda Chavez... MESSENGER: How pretty. May I call you Esme? TARRIN: The girl walked over to Esme, smiling. She didn’t know the effect she was having on Esme. I imagine she thought she was just making a friend. She touched Esme’s shoulder. A kind gesture, but one that sent Esme reeling both literally and figuratively. Visions came upon her, crashing like the waves outside. An ice castle- no an ice prison. The redhead grinning at a group of people, seeming to be from different eras. They were surrounded by debris and broken down buildings, the redhead was with a tall man and she picked up a bundle. A child. The redhead and a pale man, Esme thought she might recognize him from the group in the first vision? This is going by too fast. They were cuddled on a blanket on a beach, but the colours were weird. The sky purple, the water green in a bad way. The sand blue. There were lights in the sky. Esme came back when she hit her head on the wall, and the girl stepped back. NATCHAYA: Are you okay, dear? TARRIN: The redhead was sat on the bed, vague concern on her face. Natchaya was floating beside Esme, hand itching to comfort the girl. Jira, the faceless ghost, was gone. Esme nodded. Her head hurt, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. There was a lot she handled on her own. A bump was trivial. NATCHAYA: Oh, good. Have you done what you came to do? TARRIN: Right, the necklace. Did you forget too, minnow? I know I did. Those visions were pretty intense. Esme seemed to have forgotten too. She fished the locket out of her pocket and held it out to the other. The girl touched the place where the locket would have hung. MESSENGER: (gasp) Oh, my locket! Thank you, love! Grei would kill me if I lost it! TARRIN: She moved to take it from Esme’s hands, but Esme flinched. She didn’t want to experience that again. Whatever that was. The teen understood, sitting back down. MESSENGER: Pass it to me? TARRIN: Esme nodded, tossing it over gently. It seemed it was going to land on the floor between them, when a warm gust of wind brought it over to the teen. Esme watched as she put it on again, tucking it into her shirt. MESSENGER: Thanks again, love. May I ask what happened when I touched you? Does it hurt when people touch you? ESME: Kind of. It hurt more when you did it. It’s visions... Future events and thoughts, I think. Yours were... a lot. I didn’t even see your death. You’re not normal are you? Not human? MESSEMNGER: (laughs) No, no love. Not by far. Neither are you, it seems. Not normal in the very least. TARRIN: Her laugh filled the room. It was the type of infectious laughter fathers usually had. Unashamed and loud. Esme couldn’t help crack a smile as well. Once the girl calmed down she stood and headed over to the window, seemingly intent on jumping out of it. MESSENGER: I should be getting to my next job now, Esme. Thank you, I’ll see you next time. SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, JUMPING, WIND TARRIN: With a wink the teen was out the window, and... flew off. Esme couldn’t believe any of what was happening that day, but a flying girl was an entirely different story. ESME: Who was that? NATCHAYA: I don’t know her name. She brings messages and packages to Jira sometimes, and leaves after talking for a few minutes. Busy girl, it seems... Well, we ought to get you home, don’t you think? TARRIN: Home. What was home to Esme? An orphanage that didn’t want her? Streets that were unkind? The first kindness she’d gotten in this town was from the dead. The dead she couldn’t know the thoughts or futures of. ESME: Would it be okay if I stayed here? NATCHAYA: Here? This place hasn’t been fit for the living in years, dear. Besides, won’t your family be worried sick! ESME: I don’t have a family. There’s no one to miss me in town. ART: And I’m sure with my services we can make this place fit for a princess such as the young lady. What’s the harm, Natchaya? TARRIN: Natchaya pursed her lips, looking between the two. Art looked happy to have another person here, and Esme looked hopeful. What was the harm? She would have to stay away from Jira’s room when the messenger girl came, but living with Jira herself would be pretty easy. Besides, town wasn’t far if Esme ever did find herself needing a living being. NATCHAYA: Alright. Art, start getting the master bedroom set up first and foremost. We can worry about the rest of the house later. It’s late and she probably needs rest. TARRIN: Art grinned and flew off to do just so. Esme brightened up. She felt just about as happy as the messenger had been. Natchaya couldn’t help but smile back. NATCHAYA: Well, I suppose it would be nice to have an addition to the family. ESME: Family? TARRIN: Aw, she has a family now. I always said it’s better to find your own than deal with what you were given. I mean why deal with the worst when you deserve the best? We should head back now. Let them live their lives. SOUND: WOOSH, BUBBLE POPPING, CAVE NOISES AND WATER DRIPPING AND WAVES MUSIC: FUNKY AND COOL TARRIN: Well, what did you think minnow? Was our girl entertaining enough for you? That’s all I have for now, get out of here. Perhaps next time you’ll learn more about her. Her powers, and her family. Perhaps. Until next you stumble in here, minnow. SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, HUMMING FADING AWAY MUSIC: FADING AWAY