#didn't actually have to transcribe in this case

[rjalker]

god this took an hour but here you go. The Black-Vampyre, in actually readable text.

I haven't even read it. I have no warnings to offer you until I read it tomorrow.

"how can you edit text without reading it" strategically blurring my eyes. so I could edit the Astounding Stories of Super-Science stories without getting spoiled for the very end of the thing.

The Black-Vampyre was published in 1819, and according to wikipedia and the other tumblr post I just reblogged, it's about a slave who is murdered, comes back as a vampire, and gets revenge.

what else happens? IDk. There's a really fucking long poem at the end though. this was apparently published under a pseudonym so I guess we don't actually know who wrote it.

so, it could be super racist. I'll find out tomorrow. sorry if you read it now and it turns out it is super racist. I'd like to hope the people on the original post would mention that if that were the case but. well.

anyways this is public domain. download it. please. save it. share it. email it to yourself and your friends. print it out. it's fucking readable. Here's the original PDF for your nightmarish comparison.

the names were originally in all caps like in a play, and I'll make a version without that tomorrow. but like I said. I would like to go to sleep.

enjoy. hopefully. goodnight.

The Black Vampyre;

A Legend of St. Domingo.

By Uriah Derick D’arcy

So have I seen, upon another shore, Another Lion give a grievous roar; And the last Lion thought the first—A BOAR!

-Bombast. Furios

_______

SECOND EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS. NEW -YORK: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR.

1819.

TO THE

AUTHOR OF “WALL-STREET.”

MY DEAR SIR,

CHARMED with the success of your anomalous drama, which, without aspiring even to the character of nonsense, has already seen three editions, I have been myself induced to venture on publishing; with the sanguine hope of also scraping together a few shillings, in these hard times. Permit me to inscribe this tale to you, with a fellow-feeling for your lack of genius; and a fervent hope, that our names may be encircled by the same evergreen in the temple of the Muses; and that we may long flourish together, on the same pedestal, embellishing and elevating the literature of the Auction Room.

I remain, My dear Sir, Your affectionate Friend, And obedient Servant, THE AUTHOR.

Introduction

If any person should have patience to read the following narrative, and can discover the Author’s drift, it is more than he can do himself. If it be thought exquisite nonsense, it is more than the writer dares hope: and if it be pronounced simple, stupid, and unadulterated absurdity, his own private opinion will perfectly coincide with that of the public. He began to write without any fable, and before he had found any had spun out the thread of his ideas.

This tangled skein of absurdities is now exposed to criticism, from the laudable motive of showing, of how much nonsense an individual may be delivered, in the short space of two afternoons; without any excuse but idleness, or any object but amusement.

The prominent descriptions, which it is here attempted to ridicule, are fresh in the memory of all who have read the “White Vampyre;��� and to those who have not, the Superstition must be so familiar, that it is unnecessary to make useless extracts.

That the Author may not, however, be misunderstood, it may be necessary to state, that in the speech of the Vampyre, he had no design of descending to that meanest of all intellectual exercises, a travestie on authors who are justly admired: but meant, if any thing, simply to show how passages, which were fine in their original use, when garbelled by the ignorant and tasteless, become a melancholy rhapsody of nonsense.

“But first on earth, as Vampyre sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent; Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race; There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life; Yet loathe the banquet, which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse. Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire; As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem. But one that for thy crime must fall, The youngest, best beloved of all, Shall bless thee with a father’s name— That word shall wrap thy heart in flame! Yet thou must end thy task and mark Her cheek’s last tinge—her eye’s last spark, And the last glassy glance must view Which freezes o’er its lifeless blue; Then with unhallowed hand shall tear The tresses of her yellow hair, Of which, in life a lock when shorn Affection’s fondest pledge was worn— But now is borne away by thee Memorial of thine agony! Yet with thine own best blood shall drip Thy gnashing tooth, and haggard lip; Then stalking to thy sullen grave, Go—and with Gouls and Afrits rave, Till these in horror shrink away From spectre more accursed than they.”

-BYRON.

The Black Vampyre

Mr. ANTHONY GIBBONS was a gentleman of African extraction. His ancestors emigrated from the eastern coast of GUINEA, in a French ship, and were sold in ST. DOMINGO remarkably cheap; as they were reduced to mere skeletons by the yaws on the passage; and all died shortly after their arrival, except one small negro, of a very slender constitution, and fit for no work whatever. The gentleman who purchased him, charitably knocked out his brains; and the body was thrown into the ocean. The tide returning in the night, it was washed upon the sands; and the moon then shining bright, the gentleman was taking a walk to enjoy the coolness of the evening; judge of his surprise, when the little corpse got up, and complaining of a pain in its bowels, begged for some bread and butter!

The PLANTER supposing his business to have been but half done, kicked him back in the water. The element seemed very familiar to him; and he swam back with much grace and agility; parting the sparkling waves with his jet black members, polished like ebony, but reflecting no sin- gle beam of light. His complexion was a dead black;—his eyes a pure white;—the iris was flame colour;—and the pupils of a clear, moonshiny lustre;—but so peculiarly constructed, that, though prominent, they seemed to look into his own head. His hair was neither curled nor straight; but feathery, like the plumage of a crow. Having paddled again on shore, he came crawling crab fashion, to the feet of Mr. PERSONNE.The latter gentleman, in considerable alarm, (not knowing whether it was Satan, Obi, or some other worthy, with whom he had to deal,) mustered up sufficient resolution, to tie a large stone round the boy’s middle: then, with a main exertion of strength, he hurled him into the sparkling ocean. He fell where the reflection of the moon was brightest, and sunk like lead; but immediately rose again like cork, perpendicularly, with the stone under his arm; while the radiant lustre of the planet retreated from his dark figure, exhibiting in its most striking contrast its utter blackness!

In this predicament, he came buoyant to land; surrounded, as he seemed, by a sphere of magic lustre. He now walked up to the Frenchman, with his arms a-kimbo, and looking remarkably fierce. Mr. PERSONNE’S particular hairs stood up on end,but being ashamed that a little negro of ten years old, should put him in bodily fear, he knocked him down. The Guinea-man rose again, without bending a joint; as fast as Mr. PERSONNE could upset him, he recovered his altitude; just like one of those small toys, fabricated from pith, tipt with lead, called witches and hobgoblins by the rising generation!

The PLANTER, in utter amazement and despair, took hold of the child by both his extremities; and pressing him to the earth, set down upon him! Then, halloing for is attendants, he ordered a tremendous fire to be kindled on the sand!! This was accordingly done. The GAUL congratulated himself on his perseverance and sagacity; and as he had never heard of ignaqueous animals, was confident that though the water fiend was so expert in his own element, he could not stand the fiery ordeal. The boy, meanwhile, lay perfectly passive, as if he had been a mere log; but presently, when the pile was all in a light blaze, with a sudden expansion, like that of a compressed Indian Rubber, he popped Mr. PERSONNE up into the air many yards, and he alighted head-foremost into the fire, where he had intended to have dedicated the sable brat, with his nine lives, to Moloch!!!

Whatever the negro was, it is notorious that Mr. PERSONNE was no salamander. He was rescued from the pyre, which, like Hercules, he had, (though unwittingly,) erected for himself; looking like a squizzed cat, and having apparently no life left in his body. The attention of the domestics was drawn entirely to their master; who soon betrayed signs of animation, though he exhibited a most awful. spectacle: being one continual sore and blister. “His whole body was one wound,” as Virgil or some other poet has hyperbolically expressed himself.

Mr. PERSONNE, when he perfectly recovered his senses, found himself in his own bed, wrapt in greasy sheets, and smarting as if in a Cayenne bath. He called for a glass of brandy,—his dear wife EUPHEMIA,—and his infant son, who had not yet been christened. His lady, with streaming eyes, presented herself before him; and, after tenderly inquiring into the state of his health, told him, (with a voice interrupted with sobs and hiccups,) that when she went in the morning to see her baby, whom she had left in the cradle, there was nothing to be seen, but the skin, hair, and nails!!! She declared that there never was such another object; except, indeed, the exsiccation in Scudder’s Museum!

On the receipt of this horrid intelligence, Mr. PERSONNE was seized with a violent spasmodic affection; and shortly after expired, muttering something about sacre, and the Guinea-negro!

The amiable, but unfortunate Euphemia, was thrown into several hysterical convulsions; as well she might be, poor woman! when her husband had been made a holocaust, and served up like a broiled and peppered chicken, to feed the grim maw of death; and her interesting infant, the first pledge of her pure and perfect love, had been precociously sucked, like an unripe orange, and nothing left but its beautiful and tender skin. The disconsolate widow caused her husband to be embalmed; and he was buried amid the lamentations and tears of all the funeral; much regretted by all who had the honour of his acquaintance, particularly by his negroes; who could not soon forget him; as he had left too many sincere marks of his regard upon their backs, to be ever obliterated from their recollections.

Time, as all the Greek tragedians, Solomon, and others have remarked, is a benevolent deity. Mrs. PERSONNE’S grief yielded to the soothing hand of the consoling power; and her bloom and spirits returned with more lustre and elasticity than they had before exhibited: as the rose, that had drooped in the fury of the passing storm, erects its blushing honours, and shows more beautiful and vivid tints, when the squall is over!

Many years after these occurrences took place, while EUPHEMIA was in second mourning for her third husband, she was indulging in the luxury of solitary grief; and reading Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, and The Melancholy Poems of Dr. Farmer, in an orangerie. The refreshing breezes from the ocean, which now tempered the sultry heats of the declining day,—the soft perfume of the opening blossoms;—and the mellow tints of the evening sky, shedding that holy light, so dear to sensitive hearts, diffused a calm over her soul, wrapt in the contemplation of departed days. While lost in this pensive reverie, she perceived two strangers approaching her, in the extremity of the long vista of the grove. One of them was a coloured gentleman, of remarkable height, and deep jetty blackness; a perfect model of the CONGO Apollo. He was drest in the rich garb of a Moorish Prince; and led by the hand a pale European boy, in an Asiatic dress; whose languid countenance, slender form and tristful gait, were strongly contrasted with the portly appearance and majestic step of his conductor!

They both saluted the lovely widow, and after an interchange of compliments, accepted her polite invitation to set down, and take tea with her in the bower. She learned from the elder stranger, that he had brought out a cargo of slaves, whom his subjects had lately taken prisoners in war; and whom he had resolved to dispose of himself; as he was desirous of seeing the world. His Page, he said, was an orphan, left by a slave merchant in Africa.

The manners and conversation of the PRINCE had an irresistible charm. The regal port was manifest in his gigantic and well proportioned frame; and majesty was conspicuous on his brow, without its diadem. The turban and crescent had never graced a nobler front; but the win- ning condescension of his tones and language, while they could not banish the feeling of the presence of royalty, removed every restraint incident to that consciousness. He criticised the works, which EUPHEMIA had been perusing, with masterly precision; and displayed more knowledge than even the accomplished ideologist of Lady Morgan; with infinitely more discretion and good sense.

It is remarked by the Abbe Reynal, that there is a peculiar elegance and beauty in the complexion of the Africans, (when the eyes and nose are accustomed to their hue and odour.) This truth was realized by EUPHEMIA, as she gazed on the open visage of her illustrious guest. She thought surely that in him Nature might stand up and say “This was a man!” And certainly it is only the weakness and imperfection of our human senses, which, penetrating no further than the surface, is for ever deceived by superficial shadows. The empyrean is always blue, whatever vapours may float in our contracted atmosphere. And if we gaze on the rows of skulls, which festoon and garnish Surgeon’s Hall, we can apply no standard, to determine their relative beauty. They are all equally ugly; and the block of Helen might be mistaken for that of Medusa. Shakspeare, true to nature, has also remarked, “Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes.”

The beauty then, the royalty, gentility, and various accomplishments of the BAMBUCK monarch, made captive the too sensible heart of the French widow. She forgot her ogles, graces, and even her loquacity; rooted to her seat, and fixed in immoveable contemplation of the AFRICAN’S face. What peculiar feature or lineament attracted her attention, she knew not: his eyes, though bright, did not sparkle; and the iris, though of a more vivid red than the roseate line in the rainbow, emitted no scintillations. In fact, his whole countenance seemed to look, and to perambulate her own.

The conversation gradually assumed a more empassioned and amorous complexion; and the little page, (who, though meagre and emaciated, evidently showed that he was no gump for his years,) taking certain broad hints, cast a mournful and intelligent look on the widow, said he would fetch a short walk in the plantation, and left the orangerie.

The PRINCE then spreading his glittering sash upon the grass, went down on his knees upon it; and broke out into the most ardent exclamations, of love and admiration; and professions of constant attachment. He said that the flat-nosed beauties of Zara; the scarred, squab figures of the golden coast; the well proportioned Zilias, Calypsos, and Zamas on the banks of the Niger; and even the great Hottentot Venus herself, had never for a moment made the least impression on his heart! His passion was a mystery to himself; its origin secret as the sources of the Nile ; but full and impetuous as its ample channel, when replenished from the celestial fountains of ABYSSINIA; while if Mrs. DUBOIS would shine upon its waves, its enlivened currents would fertilize his vast dominions, in the luxuriant realms of central Africa; making them to fructify yet more abundantly, with burning gold, and radiant diamonds!!!

What female heart could resist such pleadings, and the compliment implied in such a preference? When ZEMBO (the page) returned, the parties had agreed to be privately united on the same evening. The ceremony was accordingly performed, on the spot, by the family chaplain of Mrs. DUBOIS: not without many remonstrances on his part, as to the impropriety of marrying a negro. The PRINCE did not see to resent the affront; which, by the by, he had no right to do; as the priest got nothing for the job. ZEMBO, too, was extremely restless; till Mrs. DUBOIS gave him some sweetmeats, which seemed to quiet his conscience; after which he took some stiff punch, and fell asleep!

About midnight, the PRINCE came to him; and, shaking him by the ears, bad him rise and follow him. His bride was hanging on his arm, in an enchanting dishabille; and did not seem to be in perfect possession of her right senses. ZEMBO mournfully followed the new married pair.

They went silently out of the back door, with cautious steps, and proceeded through the orangerie. No breath of wind was stirring. The moon was on the zenith, surrounded by a pale halo of ghostly lustre. When they had crossed the plantation, they came to a place of sepulture; where the dark cypresses, and lugubrious mahogany, admitted but sparse and glimmering streaks of funereal light; which, falling on the rank foliage, the white monuments and broken ground beneath, presented a thousand dusky shapes, flitting in the dim uncertainty dear to superstition.

Vague terrors seized on the mind of the bride; and she began very naturally to inquire, what was the use of getting out of a comfortable bed, and trailing through the heavy dew, in her undress, to such an unusual spot for midnight recreation.

They now stood near the spot, where her three husbands, several children, and the skin, hair and nails of her first baby, were deposited in a row. At the foot of a tamarind, lay her third son; whose christian name was SPOONER, and who died, according to the tombstone, in a fit of intoxication, aged seven years and six months. On him she had bestowed a greater share of tenderness, than any of her other offspring; and his loss had caused her most affliction. The African, making observations on the grave, began to strip himself very expeditiously, assisted by ZEMBO; who seemed to recover from his blues; and by his activity and eagerness, manifested his expectation of soon seeing some fine sport.

Presently the two genii, or gentlemen, or whatever they were, turned towards the East, and performed certain antic prostrations; throwing handfuls of earth three times over their heads. Then returning to the tomb, they tore up the sods with ravenous fury; and soon drew out the last- mentioned son of the Lady, and threw him on the grass, beside the grave. ZEMBO fell as fiercely upon the corpse, as a hungry dog upon his dinner; but was arrested by the AFRICAN, who lent him a severe box on the ear, which sent him blubbering to a corner of the cemetery.

What added both to the mother’s horrors and admiration, was, that the body of her child was perfectly fresh, and the olfactory nerves experienced no unsavoury sensation from its proximity; while its cheeks were diffused with so deep a tinge of scarlet, that they shone like ruddy fireballs in the darkness of the spot. Her husband drew a golden goblet from beneath a large stone; then, bending over the corse, he scooped out the heart, with his long and polished nails; and, having pressed the blood into the chalice, mingled with it some dark particles, gathered from the newly turned up earth. From the pure and scanty lymph, which gushed near by and flickered like a streak of quicksilvery-light in the moonbeam, he added a third ingredient of the potion. Then seizing his passive and trembling spouse by the throat, and presenting the unnatural mixture to her lips; he cried in a hollow voice, whose very inflection thrilled through each fibre of its victim,—“Swear, or if that is against your principles, affirm, by this dirty blood,—and bloody dirt;—by this watery blood,—and bloody water;—by this watery dirt, and dirty water;—that you will never disclose in any manner, aught of what you have seen and shall see this night. Call them all to witness your wish, that in the moment when you even conceive the thought of perjury, your bowels may burst out, and your bones rot! Swear and drink!”

The affrighted woman murmured, (as articulately as the iron gripe of the monster would suffer her,) that she was not thirsty; and had not breath enough to aspirate such a terrible conjuration. “No trifling;” roared the fiend, “you have not a moment to deliberate.” But his bellowing and threats were vain; and he found to his mortification that he had gotten the wrong sow by the ear, or rather by the throat. She stuttered out, in the most pitiful accents, which would have softened any heart (but a Vampyre has none,) that though she was by no means partial to the delectable confectionary of the pharmacopeia, calomel and jalap, ipecacuanha, rhubarb, and tartar-emetic, she would rather take them all, collectively and individually, than the unchristian decoction he held against her teeth.

Foaming with madness, till the white slaver flowed down his sable limbs, the African hurled MRS. PERSONNE, DUBOIS, &c. &c. on the grave of her first husband, and stamping violently on the earth, it seemed to heave as with the throes of an earthquake. Immediately the tumuli yawned. The ponderous stones and slabs were shaken from their ancient sockets; and the ghastly dead, in uncouth attitudes, crawled from their nooks; with their hair curling in tortuous and serpent twinings; and their eyeballs of fire bursting from their heads; while, as they extended their withered arms, and tapering fingers, furnished with blood-hound claws, their gory shrouds fell in wild drapery around them, transiently revealing their forms, bloated as if to bursting, and often incarnadined with clotted blood, yet warm and dripping!!!

The Lady, (as those who have been in similar predicaments may suppose,) soon lost her recollection; not, however, before she had seen ZEMBO busily employed in tearing up the grave of her first husband; she saw herself surrounded by the spectres, and lost all consciousness.

When reason and sense returned, she found herself in the same place; and it was also the midnight hour. She was laying by the grave of Mr. PERSONNE, and her breast was stained with blood. A wide wound appeared to have been inflicted there, but was now cicatrized. Imagine if you can, her surprise; when, by a certain carniverous craving in her maw, and by putting this and that together, she found she was a—VAMPYRE!!! and gathered from her indistinct reminiscences, of the preceding night, that she had been then sucked; and that it was now her turn to eject the peaceful tenants of the grave!

With this delightful prospect of immortality before her, she began to examine the graves, for subject to a satisfy her furious appetite. When she had selected one to her mind, a new marvel arrested her attention. Her first husband got up out his coffin, and with all the grace so natural to his countrymen, made her a low bow in the last fashion, and opened his arms to receive her!

What were the emotions of this fond couple, when, after a lingering separation for sixteen years, they again embraced each other, with the ardour of an affection equal to their earliest transports, and which their long divorce served only to increase; tenderly inquiring into the state of each other’s health; and the accidents which had befallen them during their disjunction. They forgot even their hunger and thirst; and sitting down on a tombstone, made a thousand inquiries; which, however, they related to family concerns, might not be as interesting to the reader as they were to the parties concerned.

Mr. PERSONNE, however, looked rather glum, when he learned that his Lady had been thrice married, since his decease. But she assured him, that she would never more tolerate the addresses of another suitor: and as for the two husbands, they were rotten enough by this time; as she was confident they had not attended the Vampyre Ball, on the preceding night. As for her sable spouse, she trusted that he would never again appear to interrupt their happiness. But while she was expressing this hope, the gentleman in question, (like his relation below, according to the old proverb,) came upon the ground, with ZEMBO. Mr. PERSONNE, having neither sword nor pistols at hand, armed himself with a gigantic thigh-bone; and warned the BLACK PRINCE to stand upon his guard as he meant to punish him severely.

But ZEMBO, rushing between the parties, raised his hands in a supplicating posture; while the generous monarch, making a Salam to his antagonist, begged him, keep himself quiet, and look behind him. They both turned round on this intimation, when, to the utter confusion of the Lady, her second and third husbands, Messieurs MARQUAND and DUBOIS, arose from the graves, where they had been lovingly deposited by the side of each other. They both advanced to salute their wife; but Mr. PERSONNE, brandishing his thigh-bone, warned them to stand off, as he had the first title to the Lady. Much confusion would have ensued, had not the African Prince interfered. He told the gentlemen that so delicate a point could only be settled in an honourable way; and proposed that Mr. MARQUAND and Mr. DUBOIS should first settle their difference in a personal encounter; after which Mr. PERSONNE might give the survivor gentlemanly satisfaction. To this all parties assented.

As they were already stripped, the combatants shook hands, to show their mutual good-will; and proceeded to action, without further ceremony. Mr. DuBois soon brought claret from Mr. MARQUAND; who, in returning the compliment, fibbed Mr. DUBOIS so severely in the bowels, that he lost his wind; and gasping for breath, smote the air on all sides, without any of his blows telling. He came to the ground, and his bones rattled as he fell. But soon recovering his breath, he made a desperate attack on Mr. MARQUAND’S sconce; and favoured him with so terrible a facer under the gills, that he fell incontinently like a bull smitten in his front; but entangling his own heels with those of Mr. DUBOIS, they both came simultaneously to the ground; striking their heads against different tombstones; and knocking out their own brains.

They rose again, refreshed like the giant of old, by their grappling with the earth, and all the better for the loss of their wits, which, indeed, was a mere trifle. But the AFRICAN, who had no time to see more sport, fixed them to the sod by his superior strength; and ZEMBO dexterously pinned them fast, by driving stakes through their hearts, with a large sledge hammer, (which he carried about his person for such emergencies.) During the opera- tion, their roaring surpassed that which is performed by the Lioness, when bereft of her whelps; but as soon as they were fairly nailed to the counter, they lay motionless and breathless—a horrible pair of spectacles of sin and misery!

The AFRICAN assured the Lady, that she need never fear their second resurrection; and Mr. PERSONNE politely offered to settle their controversy, in any mode most agreeable to the PRINCE:—either to box with him on the spot, or appoint a meeting in future, with pistols, rifles, small or broad sword; or else they might toss up, who should set fire to a barrel of gunpowder. The PRINCE said that quarrelling was all nonsense, and offered his hand; but Mr. PERSONNE refused, saying, “Don’t be too familiar, Blackey;” and renewing his threats of cracking him over the noddle with the thigh-bone.

The generous monarch pocketed the affront. “You have been,” he said, “sufficiently rewarded, for the cruelties you practised upon my person, several years ago. I forgive you, my dear sir, what you performed, and intended to perform on me. Here is your son, who has grown considerably, as you may observe; and I assure you that his education has not been neglected. To his exertions last night you are indebted for your revivification. And as, you may remember, you were embalmed, you have kept quite sweet and fresh ever since your interment. Amiable and virtuous VAMPYRES! may you long enjoy that tranquillity and contentment, which your merit and accomplishments so eminently deserve! A vessel lies in the port, ready to sail for Europe in an hour. The Island is no longer a place for you. Here is money to pay your passages, and all I have to say, is, that the sooner you’re off the better.—Farewell!” So saying he departed, without waiting for the acknow- ledgments of the party.

Mr. PERSONNE and his Lady, whom we shall again call by her first marriage name, did not exactly comprehend what their dingy benefactor meant, by bidding them take French leave of the Island, like pickpockets and outlaws; but, as they were yet wondering at their own existence, like Adam and Eve, the first day of their creation, and as they had reason to believe the PRINCE a potent magician, who could rouse the dead from their searments, and turn the planets from their courses;—for these reasons, they concluded to follow his bidding, without any impertinent scruples. But as the keen edge of their hunger had been whetted by delay, they would fain have taken supper, and digested a little something wherewithal to strengthen them, before they set out.

ZEMBO, who had filled his own breadbasket very lately, and was in no such urgent necessity, protested with all the vehemence which filial reverence would permit, against the unseasonable gratification of their unnatural craving; and recited with just emphasis and good discretion, an extract from Counsellor Phillips’s harangue, about “the cannibal appetite of his rejected altar;” which his parents did not understand, and of course thought very sublime! But even this master-piece of mystical eloquence would have been delivered in vain; had not the boy given other reasons of such cogency, that they licked their lips—cast a longing, lingering look at the grave-yard,—and followed him without more opposition.

They prosecuted their nocturnal march, through closely woven and solemn groves; until they descended into a profound valley, where the light of the pale planet of magic adoration, streamed and quivered on serried files of bright armoury. The leader of the band seemed to have expected their arrival; and mutual tokens of recognition passed between him and ZEMBO. The whole company then set forward their array in silence;—

No cymbal clash’d, no clarion rang, Still were the pipe and drum; Save heavy tread, and armour’s clang, The sullen march was dumb.

By continual descent, they seemed to have penetrated the bowels of a cavern, whose ramifications ran under the sea; as they heard a murmuring roar, as of the ocean, above their heads. The party, by the instructions of ZEMBO, dispersed themselves in different directions; until they had enclosed the interior of the rock where its largest chamber was, to speak catachrestically, so artfully concealed by nature, that no one, not instructed by an adept in its subterranean topography, could ever have detected the secret of its existence. It had been, in former days, a place of deposit and asylum for the Buccaniers; and its situation had been since known only to the Professors of the OBEAH art, who held here their midnight orgies.

Mr. and Mrs. PERSONNE, guided by their son, were placed in a situation, where, through the crevices of the inner partition of the rock, they could observe what was passing in the interior.

It seemed, at first view, a vast hall of Arabian romance; supported by immense shafts, and studded with precious stones; so various and beautiful were the hues, which the different spars assumed, in the light of an hundred torches, blazing in every quarter, and illuminating the farthest recesses of the cave. The walls were decorated with other appendages, which added to the mystery, if not to the embellishment of the scene; being irregularly stained with blood; decorated with rude tapestry of many coloured plumage;—and stuccoed with the beaks of parrots;—the teeth of dogs, and alligators;—bones of cats;—broken glass and eggshells; plastered with a composition of rum and grave-dirt, the implements of NEGRO witchcraft!

At one extremity of the extensive apartment, on a kind of natural throne, sat several blackamoors in sumptuous Moorish apparel; whom, by their swollen forms, and remarkable eyes, Mrs. PERSONNE knew to be GOULS; and among whom she recognised her late husband. The whole range of this vast amphitheatre, sweeping from before the throne, was occupied by slaves, rudely attired, and imperfectly armed with clubs and missiles; a decent platoon of black-guards were posted be- fore the Vampyre monarchs; and, in the centre, a band of musicians performed an exquisite symphony. The soft strains of the MERRIWANG;—the lively notes of the DUNDO;—and the martial accompaniment of the GOOMBAY, made, with their united noises, a discordant harmony, whose powers the lyre of Orpheus could not equal; and which would certainly be enough to frighten all the hosts of Pandemonium.

The oratorio being finished, the AFRICAN PRINCE arose, and making an obeisance to the company,—cleared his throat, and began to address them as follows:—“Gentlemen and Vampyres!”—but the VAMPYRES expressing their resentment against this breach of etiquette, he corrected himself: —“Vampyres and Gentlemen!”—but the NEGROES were no more willing to come last, than the Vampyres, and a loud growl accompanied by a slight hiss, again interrupted the orator. He was not, however, disconcerted, but like Mr. Burke, thundered out an iteration of the offensive sentence.

“Yes,” said he, “I repeat it, Vampyres and Gentlemen? Shall not the immortal precede the mortal?— Shall not those whose diet surpasses the nectar and ambrosia of celestials, precede the ephemeral race, who fatten on the unclean juice of brutes,—the rank essence of esculent productions,—or the nauseous liquor of the distillery? (applause—hear! hear! and see-boy! from the Vampyres—groans from the negroes!) Gentlemen of colour! I appeal to yourselves; shall not the descendants of the Gods be named before the offspring of the earth-born image, whom Titan impregnated with celestial fire?—For Prometheus was the first Vampyre. You must all know, as you have undoubtedly read Æschylus, that the vulture, who preyed on his liver, was neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. He is called a dog, which makes him a quadruped;—he is represented as ερπωυ, creeping, which proves him an insect; and is said to have wings, which shows that he was a bird. Now, from this amphibious monster have descended the Crows,—the Jackalls,—and the Bloodhounds;—the pirate Bat of Madagascar,—and the man-killing Ivunches of Chili;—the Sharks;—the Crocodiles;—the Krakens;—the Horse-leeches;—the Cape-cod Sea Serpents;—the Mermaids;—the Incubi;—and the Succubi!!! (loud cheering from the Vampyres.) From Titan himself, descended the Cy- clopes, and all other ancient and modern Anthropophagi; and, in lineal descent, the Moco tribe of our own EBOES, to whom I have the honour of being related. Those of you, too, are his posterity, who, after your deaths, return to your native land—the true Elysium; where the balmy bowl of the Coco, the soft bloom of the ANANA, and the coal-black beauties of the clime of love, shall for ever reward your fortitude, and steep in forgetfulness the memory of your wrongs. (hear! hear! from the negroes.) But none of these genera or species of our order, must longer engage your dignified and charitable attention. I come to ourselves, full- blooded—unadulterated—immortal bloodsuckers!—To ourselves—whether Gouls,—or Afrits,—or Vampyres;— Vroucolochas,—Vardoulachos,—or Broucolokas—To ourselves—the terror of the living and of the dead, and the participants of the nature of both;—To ourselves—the emblems at once of corruption and of vitality;—blotted from the records of existence, and replenished to repletion with circulating life;—abandoned by the quick, and unrecognised by the dead:—‘at once relics and relicts;— rocked on the bases of our own eternities;—the chronicles of what was—the solemn and sublime mementoes of what must be!’ unqualified approbation from both sides of the house.)

“The estate of Vampyrism is a fee-tail, and may be docked in two different ways. The first mode is the sanguinary practice of perforating the subject with a stake; and this is final. The other is produced by the gentler operation of the narcotic potion you behold in this phial; by whose lenient and opiate influence, the individual is restored to the plight, in which he was previous to his death, or his becoming a Vampyre, and belongs to the OBEAH mysteries.

“But to come to the object of our present meeting. Sublime and soul-elevating theme!—The emancipation of the Negroes!—The consecration of the soil of ST. DOMINGO to the manes of murdered patriots in all ages!—No matter whether the bill of sale was scrawled in French or in English;—No matter whether we were taken prisoners, in a battle between the LEOPHARES and the JAKOFFS, or in a skirmish between the SAMBOES and the SAWPITS;—No matter whether we were bought for calico and cotton, or for gunpowder or for shot;—No matter whether we were transported in chains or in ropes—in a brig, or a schooner, or a seventy-four—the first moment we come ashore on ST. DOMINGO, our souls shall swell like a sponge in the liquid element;—our bodies shall burst from their fetters, glorious as a curculio from its shell;—our minds shall soar like the car of the æronaut, when its ligaments are cut; in a word, O my brethren, we shall be free!—Our fetters discandied, and our chains dissolved, we shall stand liberated,—redeemed,— emancipated,—and disenthralled by the irresistible genius of UNIVERSAL EMANCIPATION!!!” (Unparalleled bursts of unprecedented applause!!!)

Such was the report of this oration, taken down in short hand by ZEMBO; of whose extraordinary sagacity so many proofs have been exhibited; and who was never unprovided with materials for any emergency. The fiery oratory of the Prince communicated such inspiration to the auditors, that the whole mass of their thick blood leaped up with the quickening pulse of anticipated freedom; they danced and sung, with violent gesticulations, like perfect Corybantes; but unfortunately, their Phyrricks were interrupted by the glittering bayonets of the soldiery; who poured in upon them from every quarter, and hemmed them in, with a bristling chevaux-de-frise of steel. The Vampyres, surprised but undaunted, unsheathed their sabres, and drew up in a gallant style, as if determined to die game; being, indeed, assured, that like so many Phœnixes, they would rise from their own ashes, as often as they might be cut down.

A desperate conflict ensued, during which Mrs. PERSONNE observed the phial, mentioned by the Prince, lying on the ground; and very thoughtfully put it in her ridicule. The slaves, seeing how the business was likely to terminate, prudently sneaked off, while the attention of the military was occupied by the Vampyres. The former were violently exasperated to find all their labour so unprofitable; since while they themselves were wounded by every blow of their opponents, the latter, like so many ninepins, were set up, as fast as they were bowled down; bending to the storm, like masts on a tempestuous ocean, and rising again upon the billow in perpendicular triumph.

But, being instructed by ZEMBO, the soldiers pinioned them as fast as they fell; and prevented their rising, by sitting in great numbers on their bodies; though the task was somewhat like that of detaining quicksilver beneath the fingers. The PRINCE, however, still fought desperately. Brandishing a huge scimitar in either hand, he swayed his arms like the sails of a windmill; while limbs, heads, and bodies flew about him, curvetting and dancing in the air; as when the ingenious Mr. MAFFEY pulls to pieces a coach, or an old woman, children, chickens, friars, and petticoats dance about in wild confusion, till the artist’s hand again brings order out of chaos:—Or, as when the renowned knight of the BED-CHAMBER, whose name eternal vases shall record, saw the ungenerous caricature on the wall, wielding a ponderous jug, he smote the innocent tables, chairs, and bed-posts, and strode victorious over the gory field: So fought the PRINCE; till being neatly pricked in the spine, unexpectedly, he soused (as Johannes Porco Latinus remarks) “in principia fundimentalia,” and was immediately set upon by a host. So when a Gœtulian lion is pierced by the light bamboo, overpowered by the hunters, he struggles in his thrall like an Enceladus under Ætna, and dies at last with heart-wrung tears of anguish, and re- verberating roars of hatred!!!

Stakes were immediately procured, and the whole infernal fraternity securely disposed of: as their compeers, described by Homer,

With burning chains fixed to the brazen floors And lock’d by hell’s inexorable doors.

With their bellowings, the vast chambers of the subterranean rung like the caverns of Delphos, when the inflammable air was fired by the crafty priests. The Inhabi- tants of the Island started up from their slumbers in shuddering terror, and believed that an earthquake was rumbling beneath their feet.

Mr. and Mrs. PERSONNE and ZEMBO lost no time in trying the effects of the African’s stolen prescription. Being thrown into a tranquil slumber they were conveyed to their plantation; and awoke the next morning, perfectly well, excepting slight colds in the head. Mr. PERSONNE, having been in statu quo, for sixteen years, was now much younger than his lady; a circumstance, for which she was not at all sorry; and which he himself declared by no means displeased him. The remainder of their life was serene as a tropic night; —illumined by the mild effulgence of domestic love;—fanned by the soft aspirations of peaceful bosoms;—and enlivened by the fire- fly scintillations of rapture!!!

ZEMBO, to whose taste and ingenuity they were indebted for their happiness, and who was baptized with the Christian name of BARABBAS, after an uncle of his mother’s, recorded what the reader has perused. One only circumstance, like one of those claps of thunder, frequently heard in the unclouded sky, passed over the tranquillity of their bosoms. Mrs. PERSONNE’S fourth husband’s child was a mulatto, and of Vampyrish propensities; of which his mother and Mr. PERSONNE were never able entirely to cure him, having used up all the African’s preparation.

The intelligent reader, (if any such there be,) will remember that this narrative commenced with the name of Mr. ANTHONY GIBBONS, of whom nothing has since been said; and whose adventures (to use a FORUM trope) “must remain buried in the bowels of futurity,” until a more convenient opportunity. He is a lineal descendant from the last-mentioned mulatto; and the manuscript, which is now given to the public, was transmitted to him from his ancestors. He is a resident in Essex county, New- Jersey; and candour requires us to state, that he is no relation to his celebrated namesake at ELIZABETH- TOWN; as it is notorious to all who have had the pleasure of witnessing the size of the latter gentleman’s waist, that he has too much bowels for so diabolical a profession; and it is to be hoped in charity, that though he is such a delicate morsel, when he is laid in the sepulchre of his fathers, he may not prove a titbit, to GLUT THE THIRST OF A VAMPYRE!!!

Moral.

N this happy land of liberty and equality, we are free from all traditional superstitions, whether political, religious, or otherwise. Fiction has no materials for machinery;—Romance no horrors for a tale of mystery. Yet in a figurative sense, and in the moral world, our climate is perhaps more prolific than any other, in enchanters,—Vampyres,—and the whole infernal brood of sorcery and witchcraft.

The accomplished dandy, who in maintaining his horses,—his taylor, &c.—absorbs in the forced and unnatural excitement of his senseless orgies, the life-blood of that wealth which his prudent Sire had accumulated by a long devotion to the counter,—What is he but a Vampyre?

The fraudulent trafficker in stock and merchandize, who, having sucked the whole substance of an hundred honest men, is consigned for a few weeks to the sepulchre of the jail; and then, by the potent magic of an insolvent law, stalks forth, triumphant with bloated villany, more elated in his shameless resurrection to renew his career of iniquity and of disgrace,—what is he but a Vampyre?

The corrupted and senseless Clerk, who being placed near the vitals of a moneyed institution, himself exhausted to feed the appetite of sharpers, drains, in his turn, the coffers he was appointed to guard,—is he not, I appeal to the Stockholders,—is he not a Vampyre?

Brokers, Country Bank Directors, and their disciples—all whose hunger and thirst for money, unsatisfied with the tardy progression of honest industry, by creating fictitious and delusive credit, has preyed on the heart and liver of public confidence, and poisoned the currents of public morals, are they not all Vampyres?

The whole tribe of Plagiarists, under every denomination;—The Critic, who. by eviscerating authors, and stuffing his own meagre show of learning with the pilfered entrails, ekes out his periodical fulmination against public taste;—the Forum Orator, who, without compunction, barbarously exenterates Burke, and Curran, and Phillips,—the Second- handed Lawyer,—Scholar,—Theologue,—who quote from quotations, and steal stolen property:—the Divine, who preaches Tillotson and Toplady;—what are they all but Vampyres?

The Empiric, who fills his own stomach, while he empties his shop into the bowels of the hypochondriac;—the Bibliopolist, “who guts the fobs” of the whole reading community, by ascribing to Lord Byron works which that author never saw; the philanthropic Contractor for the Army, who charges more for lime and horse-beef, than his quantum- meruit for the best provisions; who sets up his carriage and his palace, by blistering the mouths and destroying the intestines of thousands,— what are these but Vampyres?

The Professors and Disciples of Surgeon’s Hall, who, when a fine fat corse is rolled out of the resurrectionist’s budget, set up a howl of horrible transport, like he anthropophagous Caribs in Robinson Crusoe;—glut their gloating eyes with the pinguidity and unctuousness of the subject; and whet their blades like Shylock, impatient to attack the ilia,—what are they but Vampyres?

And I, who, as Johnson said of an hypochondriac Lady, “have spun this discourse out of my own bowels,” and made as free with those of others—I am a VAMPYRE!

Vampyrism; a poem

Utrum horum mavis accipe.

SOLOMON LANG & LAUNCELOT LANG - STAFF, Esquires.

GENTLEMEN, FROM the Gazette of August 17th, I am happy to learn, that you have entered into an alliance, offensive and defensive. The ties of kindred and the attraction of sympathy, one would think, ought to have brought about this union much sooner. You are, I believe, of one family;—although I am ignorant from whence LAUNCELOT has taken the Agnomen of STAFF: and I am equally unable to divine, why you have both docked the Nomen of your ancestors, which hath been written LANGEARS from time immemorial. Whatever may be your reasons for disowning your consanguinity to the great GENTILE family, the literary and political worlds rejoice, at least, in this consolidation of the talents of their two most distinguished members. The parity of intellect,—the similarity of taste,—the pungency of sarcasm possessed by both parties, justify the expectations formed by the public, from this conjunction of two such great luminaries. Both are imbued with that modest confidence, connected with the consciousness of superior talent. SOLOMON is formed, perhaps, of more impenetrable stuff: LAUNCELOT has more of the irritability and exquisite sensibility of genius.—Ira quidem communiter urit utrumque; but SOLOMON taketh the driest knocks with a good grace; LAUNCELOT is sooner thrown into a fever, and frets, to use a classic quotation of his own, “like a bear, with a sore head.”—SOLOMON is the better grammarian: LAUNCELOT hath, occasionally, greater command of language. Solomon, as he states, composes ideas and types simultaneously, a la mode de Wooler; Launcelot has the advantage of seeing his ideas embodied in black and white, in their flight from his brains to the printing office.— LAUNCELOT the FIERY, may be likened to the mad ORESTES: SOLOMON the PATIENT, to the faithful PYLADES.— SOLOMON is original in his own way: LAUNCELOT purloins from Swift, and Rabelais and others.—SOLOMON, pilloried in his own press, with no ally but the gray mare, bravely receives the missiles of the whole legion of editors; LAUNCELOT has only to open his mouth, or saw the air, or make a leg, on the literary stage; and all the gods of the Philadelphia gallery, pipe their shrill catcalls in discordant unison.—The castigation of both is equally dreadful. SOLOMON, with his “Good morning, Mr. Coleman,” and “Rot the sarpent,” condenses all his wrath into a laconic sarcasm: LAUNCELOT elaborates books, to the great terror and discomfiture of Gifford, Southey, and Scott. The Quarterly Reviewers received a death blow, because they could not find out the wit of the Scottish Fiddle; and the translator of Juvenal has never dared to show his face, since Mr. LANGSTAFF promulgated to the world, the secret of his origin. Poor Mr. Hall, the editor of the Port Folio,— because he criticised that Poem, (than which, in the language of Croaker, “nothing can be flatter or funnier;”) according to the canons of Martinus Scriblerus,—said Hall has been severely bemauled for his temerity. Many a heart-burning hath he experienced, from the caustic of Salmagundi Redivivus—Godwot!—magni nominis umbra!—On the whole, “none but yourselves can be your parallels.”

Allow me to dedicate the following rhymes to your firm; which will, I have no doubt, stand secure, amid all the present wreck of matters, and crashes of credit. Profound ignorance, bolstered by vanity, sits firmly on it own fundamental principles. Farewell, Gentlemen, accept the considerations of my high esteem—

Fortunati ambo—si quid mea carmina possunt, Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet aevo!

-URIAH DERICK D’ARCY.

VAMPYRISM;

A POEM,

I.

IN this blest land, where valour burst The links which bound his children erst, And rent the vail whose darkness hid Legitimacy’s monstrous creed;— Where all that since the world began Had sway’d the sacred rights of man, With ancient dreams had past away, And bare in all its weakness lay;— Here reason, in triumphal hour, Asserted too her conquering power: From mountain, valley, plain and flood, She exorcised the shadowy brood

II.

When freshening gales had swept the mists, That wildly wreath’d the mountain crests, No cloudy spectre o’er the storm Reveal’d the terrors of his form;— When evening breezes curl’d the wave No wraiths disturb’d the wandering brave,— When lost in darkness, down the side Of craggy mount their path they tried, And stunn’d by torrents deafening roar, Downward were hurl’d, to rise no more; Men said their balance they had lost, But never laid it to a ghost.

III.

No more, around the guarded gold, Their wake were pirates seen to hold;— No elves the midnight circle tript; No fairies lunar vigils kept; Genii nor devils rose—except, Indeed, that once in godly Salem, Blue laws and preachings seem’d to fail ’em; Bed bugs and rats their slumbers broke, On Beelzebub they laid the joke; Took brandy to expel the fiend, Which answered quite another end! Old ladies then to swim were taught, In amorous league with Satan caught;— And some were hang’d:—but now no more ’Tis fit to rake up that old sore.

IV.

Of late the pole its fiends has sent, The ‘tarnal Yankees to torment; By water witchcraft long distrest, In vain with all their might they guest; Till when their gumption seem’d to fail One captain got him by the tail; But metamorphos’d, (such their story,) The wizard gave the man the go-by Turn’d out a tunny fish to be, The “shallowest monster” of the sea.

V.

And now they swear with might and main, That Monsieur Tonson’s come again: And Marshal Prince, his wife and daughters, Off Nahant, saw him walk the waters. The coachman there and Mrs. Prince Got at the odd fish several squints; But Mr. Prince, for weak his eye was, Look’d at him through a mast-head spy-glass; And took, lest men his word should doubt, An ugly likeness of his snout, With all the bumps the monster bore— He says, thirteen—his wife, two more.

VI.

In Morristown we’ve heard a ghost Wrought wonders to the people’s cost. ’Tis not long since, on New Year’s night, The devil gave three bad boys a fright; Who o’er their whiskey took to cursing, Spoke disrespectfully of his person, His government began to libel, And on the back-log put the bible.— But these things are of little moment, Unworthy of a further comment.

VII.

Yet SUPERSTITION! though thy throne Be rear’d in wilds and woods alone, Where the rude wanderer of the glen Invokes the souls of martial men;— Adores the torrent thundering loud; Calls on the spirits of the cloud;— And o’er the black and bursting heaven, Sees Ariouski’s chariot driven;— Yet, queen of terror’s sheetedband! Fiends worse than thine affright our land, While, stalking from their ghastly homes, The VAMPYRE host infuriate roams!

VIII.

Behold that EXQUISITE divine, Fit to hang up for fashion’s sign. In classic mould his wig is shear’d— SO SAUNDERS says—by all rever’d— (Yet much, with deference, due I doubt If Saunders’ science could make out Apollo’s nob, if slic’d off well, From J—n G. B—t’s bust to tell— Both are stuck up in the Academy— Yet for this query think not bad o’ me.) But to the Dandy—’neath his chin Hog’s bristles fiercely fence him in; One corset back his shoulders throws; His bowels other bones enclose; His ample chest is bullet proof, With cotton cram’d and such like stuff; And for his clothes—but here’s enough. For ere the printer’s tardy imp, Shall bid in type this doggrel limp, The swifter ninth part of a man Shall change the passing mode again; And waists now short shall then be long. All that’s now right shall then be wrong!

IX.

How came that puppy by his gig? What taught him how to look so big? For this behind the measur’d board His father scrap’d the growing hoard— Like him the pyramids who rear’d, To leave behind no name rever’d For, on the bowels of the heap, His revels shall this Vampyre keep; Till vigils late—and generous wine, And—things that suit no lay of mine; Have left him soon to die and rot, Be laugh’d at, pitied, and forgot! His species and his line to trace, And count the honours of his race, Let Mr. Wynkoop soar as high, As Scythia’s Cynocephali, And Mr. Langstaff dive as low As he, and he alone, can go;” Let this quote Greek—that crack stale jokes, The theme is worthy of such folks.

X.

Lo! thro’ the bustling world of trade, What monsters march in long parade; Gorg’d with the substance of a host, Swelling they strut with empty boast; The bubble burst, and credit fled, The money’d quack proclaims them dead;— Bailiffs in haste the corpse escort;— The turnkey says his service short;— Awhile in jail their bones repose, Till lo! the dungeon doors unclose! Insolvent laws, with potent spell, Have wrought the wondrous miracle; Their words of might the dead restore; And even more bloated than before, From that deep sepulchre, to prey On all the gudgeons in his way, Of shameless resurrection vain, The VAMPYRE BANKRUPT stalks again!

XI.

Temples of Mammon! O beware What priests the golden chalice bear! And let not hands profane approach The tempting, costly shrines to touch! Have we not seen what secret stealth Has suck’d the vitals of your wealth, When the weak dupe, quite drain’d himself, Grew hungry for the luscious pelf; Nor did his secret orgies end, Till fail’d a whole year’s dividend. And now once more in open air, Have we not seen the Vampyre pair, Stalk forth, from jails and juries free, In all the pride of infamy?

XII.

O HERMES of these latter times, I hail thee in unworthy rhymes! Great ALCHYMIST, whose art alone Has found the philosophic stone! Thou arch magician! to whose hand Alone is given the hazel wand, That finds the veins of glittering ores, Great DOUSTERSWIVEL of conjurors! What though thine art itself despair, And all the pageant fade in air? While harmless mobs thy doors assail, And blustering butchers curse and rail, Above thine own Flaminian roll’d, Shall thy triumphal chariot hold Its course majestical along, Before the whole admiring throng!

XIII.

O JACOB! JACOB! thou art keen, As thy great namesake;—him, I mean. Who manag’d for himself to keep The best of crafty Laban’s sheep. Immortal VAMPYRE of our age! O might this unassuming page Be read by all, whose fobs must bleed, Thy ravenous appetite to feed Behind thy coach and four might I Roll in an humbler tilbury; Beneath thy wings might D’ARCY’s name Soar to the solar blaze of fame!

XIV.

Plumb from the giddy height I fall, Amid whole herds of Vampyres small, CRITICS, who worn out common place With Author’s pilfer’d entrails grace; The FORUM spouter—barbarous Turk! Who rips up Curran, Phillips, Burke, And thunders forth bombastic centos, Of wasted time the sad mementoes; All those who QUOTE at second hand, And what they quote don’t understand; The PARSON who in sleepy tone Evangelizes Tillotson; All PLAGIARISTS,—concise to be,— Are GOULs of high or low degree.

XV.

The QUACK with brick dust who provides, Wherewith to line his own insides; Who fills up all his hungry chinks, While to a ghost his patient shrinks; THOMAS who vends as Byron’s own The works of doggrelists unknown; Honest CONTRACTORS, who are able To cheat both government and rabble; Who, worthy of the scourge and gallows, Set up their equipage and palace; While blister’d mouths deep curses pour And tortur’d soldiers writhe and roar, Who eat the beef of horses dead, And craunch corroding lime for bread— These, as the sufferers all agree, Are of the GOULE fraternity.

XVI. There are whose tongues around them throw The gall with which their hearts o’erflow, Like those from old Medusa’s head, Where’er its venom’d drops are shed, Earth’s verdure fades;—rank poison springs; Snakes hiss, and dragons spread their wings. Pale Dian’s hopeless votary old, Crabb’d, ancient dames, and bachelors cold, Nay e’en the blooming maid—will hie To the foul feast of calumny; On wisdom, worth, and reverend age, Beauty and wit, they glut their rage; And fondly hope, that as they tear The limbs of murder’d character, Their own fair fame shall prouder swell, Fatten’d upon the feast of hell!

XV.

There is a spot, unknown to fame, Where Vampyres haunt their hold of shame When ENVY left her noxious cave, Along Passaic’s winding wave, (Though Ovid has this fact forgot,) She linger’d by one cherish’d spot; She left her benediction here, The ground became for ever sere; Infected by her scatter’d slime And tainted to all after time; Whoever tastes its baleful food, A Vampyre longs to feed on blood— The blood of honour, virtue free, Fame, confidence and chastity!

XVIII.

But wouldst thou, in thy purpose bold The demon orgies foul behold— Mark where the SONS of SURGEON’S HALL, Upon their foul purveyor call; And lo, the plunderer of the tomb Brings up his budget in the room; Rolls out, their ardent gaze before, A huge, fat negress on the floor; Then with a savage howl they roar! Like cannibals, prepar’d to roast Their pris’ners on some barbarous coast; Like Shakspeare’s Jew, the joyous band Whet their keen blades with eager band; While all the putrid limbs excite Their foul and Vampyre appetite.—

XIX.

And what am I, whose spider skill Has thus contrived this sheet to fill; From my own bowels spun the lay, Until I find no more to say? Before to all I bid adieu, Confess,—I AM A VAMPYRE TOO!

[aphel1on]

the most autistic thing i've done in the past year is when i typed out a transcript of the text from the entire main storyline in Pokemon Legends: Arceus into a wordpad document, complete with basic image descriptions, and then i didn't even write the fanfic which was supposedly the reason i started that whole project in the first place

[666thtoolofhell]

That Kingdon slow burn is coming 😭😭😭 all I think it’ll take for Patrick and Taylor to get on board is Langdon separating or divorcing cause wdym Taylor says she thinks Mel will probably be one of the only people not judging him 😭

I just listened to the whole interview and here are some bits that weren't transcribed to the written version:

The reaching up and tapping of the door header on their way to STEMI wasn't in the script - it was all Patrick and Taylor. Patrick would always do it and Taylor thought it was funny and "boy-ish" and copied him to tease him. She didn't even think they'd keep it in the actual episode.

Apparently all the staff will be behaving as if nothing out of the ordinary happened and one of them isn't suddenly not there anymore, just going about things as normal without even touching the subject and sidestepping the Langdon-shaped hole in the room, and Mel will be surprised at not seeing him and then very confused about the whole thing. (Until the reason why is eventually explained to her, I assume. Since she won't be judging him upon his return she'll have to be in the know regarding the basics by then, no?)

Mel will be genuinely excited when Langdon comes back next season, very much like she was when she saw him again after he'd been - unbeknownst to her - fired and away from the ED for a short while. (Imagine if the joy and enthusiasm were to be proportional? If she was that elated after he'd been gone for an hour, how would she react after ten months? Fic writers, you know what to do.)

That man needs to be at the very least separated and in talks of divorce if not already signing those papers by July 4th. We won't survive the slowly burning colleagues to friends to lovers wrapped in soulmatism these two are bringing to the table. [wishful thinking]

I have no real expectations except for the powers that be to continue to focus - as much as possible with the time allotted to them as characters and as a duo - on their wonderful bond and dynamic, still partnering them up for cases as well as for breaks and significant downtime moments, letting their wholesome relationship progress further, growing and flourishing as naturally as it did during the first season.

Since Langdon is going to return fully believing he's failed her and that he's no longer deserving of her trust I foresee Mel disabusing him of that silly notion so thoroughly and so fast he won't know what hit him. Mel treating him the same, without disappointment or betrayal or pity in her eyes, still wanting to work closely with and learn from him? Being supportive and there if and when he needs someone? Just being unapologetically herself in all the ways that immediately drew him to her in the first place? That is going to be a huge help and relief for him, I think, and ease his reintegration into their workplace and team if only a little bit.

I'm hoping their friendship solidifies as something that isn't exclusive to the hospital and that we'll get a teeny tiny blink-and-you'll-miss-it hint that it'll extend into their personal lives. Something like Mel telling Langdon more about Becca and their parents; or him telling her about Abby, the dog, the kids. Sharing and commiserating. Getting to know each other better. Finding only acceptance and understanding. That'd be nice.

Baby steps.

[dross-the-fish]

What about writers and chat gpt?

same principal. Whether you hire a human writer to write your ideas into a novel or you use the AI to do it you're still using an external source to do the writing for you rather than being a writer yourself. And again I don't really think AI is an effective tool to help someone grow their writing skill or help a disabled person become a writer since the generative function also means results are going to be randomized and very limited in what it's actually going to be able to do for you. Even if it generates a serviceable result it's not going to be able to output a consistent quality or style, it's just a machine's closest approximation of what you want based on how it understands a prompt. I could put out a detailed prompt and hold a writing contest and get a bunch of random people to write me something then pick out which story I liked best. I have a story, possibly a good one, but I did not write it and therefore cannot call myself an author. That is effectively what Gen AI is an alternative for commissioning a writer. You didn't make this. I would even argue it's not really a good disability aid as it doesn't actually assist you in making your creation, it creates in place of you. And I'm speaking as someone who has always struggled a lot with both reading and writing and who frequently uses aids when they are available to me. Whether it's writing with more spacing or dyslexia friendly formatting. I don't write completely unassisted.

There are plenty of writing tools you can use if you struggle with writing, I sometimes do audio recordings of my writing and have my partner help me transcribe it when I find the actual process of writing to be overwhelming or difficult. But I do write. It is still my words, my characters, my prose, such as it is. It may not be good or up to a professional standard of writing, but it is unquestionably my work and that's really the crux of what makes an artist or writer. I had to painstakingly learn how to slow down and organize my thoughts and learn how to make an outline and a draft. Any skill is going to take a measure of work or dedication and for a lot of us that is going to be difficult. At some point we do have to accept that there will be things we can't do and some of our setbacks cannot be compensated for even with assistance. There will be times when you do have to let go of the notion of making something "good" and focus on making it because you want to create something. Generative AI created content will never be anyone's work. I don't care how much skill it takes to input the prompt or how long it takes to filter through the results and give suggestions for changes. That's literally what a client does when they hire an artist or writer but in this case your artist/writer is a subscription to an AI program. It's not different and the fact that this is even in question seems weird to me. We don't call people writers when they hire an author to pen a work for them. So it stands to reason that we wouldn't call them writers if they ask a program to do it.

[dunmeshistash]

Senshi Revealed in Five Keywords

5 keywords section from the Adventurer's Bible, this is transcribed from the EHScans translation for more info you can check this post. My own notes will be at the end of the post.

1. Griffin Soup

One of the more memorable episodes from Senshi's past. Hopelessly lost inside the dungeon, Senshi's companions were killed off by monsters one by one as tempers began to flare within the party. When it was finally down to Senshi and Gillin, was the soup that Gillin prepared really made of meat from a Griffin he had killed, as he had claimed…?

To solve this mystery and honor the memory of his lost companions, Senshi set out on a solo trip into the dungeon, but the 4th floor was too difficult for him to overcome on his own. And it was in the midst of these troubles that he ran into Laios' party…

2. Gillin's Mining Crew

Senshi's parents passed away from sickness and an accident when he was only 22 years old*. With nowhere to go, he was taken in by Gillin. Afterward, he ended up joining Gillin's newly founded mining

crew. Senshi struggled internally because he didn't possess the drive to strike it rich through ancient technologies or mining like other dwarves. He wasn't very good at playing along with dwarven ribbing like "Do you really have iron running through your veins?", and his relationship with the other party members could be described as tepid at best.

3. Orcs

Senshi first began eating monsters when he was under the care of the orcs, because it was commonplace in their village. He also learned how to identify poisonous mushrooms, as well as other monster knowledge from the orcs.

4. Ten Years of Monster Cooking

When he first met Laios, Senshi said that he had been "researching monster cuisine for 10 years." The truth is, he couldn't remember how long it had been since the dungeon was discovered, and just made up a random number on the spot. In fact, Senshi had been living in the dungeon for over 50 years, and was already a veteran adventurer.

5. Anne

Senshi bestowed the name "Anne" upon his cherished Kelpie. However, in the end, it attacked him and he was left with nothing but bitter memories. The name Anne actually came from a horse that Senshi's old mining crew had taken along with them into the dungeon during the expedition when they got lost. The dwarves butchered and ate Anne in an effort to ward off starvation; even now, the memory of that event is likely still etched deeply within Senshi's heart.

------

*I thought the wording was a little awkward here, the official translation says "Senshi lost his parents when he was twenty-two — one to an accident, the other to illness." in case anyone else found it hard to understand too. Btw 22 is the equivalent of being around 8~9yo for a tallman, so he was still a young child when he lost his parents. He was 37 when he got lost in the dungeon which would be around 14 as a tallman. (Dwarven age of maturity is 40)

Stats

Timelines

Official version bellow the cut

[yume-joshi]

Barbatos' H-Scene!!

for all my lazy ppl or y'all who aren't at chap 7 yet, here's all of barb's scene transcribed below the cut!! if you'd like any other whb scenes or anything transcribed, just send in an ask :33 maybe I'll do this with gamigin's, too, if ppl like this.. 0_o

NOTES: if there is any text which differs from the game, just ignore it!! OCR's do NOTT do well with the mass amount of whb punctuation..

WARNINGS: pure smut, breeding kink, public/ outdoor sex, spoilers for whb (nothing new!), long post

EXTRA: want the visual? scroll to the bottom! :3

Before you and the devils of Hades' had even left the castle,

You found yourself stepping into a place you never expected (?) to see.

A garden bathed in warm sunlight, filled with the sweet fragrance of flowers, vibrant with hues of blue, red, and green.

MC: (In this dreary... no, desolate Hades, there's actually a place like this...?)

Whenever you entered Hades, it always felt as if the sunlight was insufficient, as if it had been dimmed by the very nature of the realm. But now, you began to wonder if this garden alone was being specially favored by the sun.

It seemed like a plausible theory, especially since the garden's owner was an ardent worshipper of the sun.

Barbatos: You know, all illnesses can be healed beneath the sun, MC?

Despite having poisoned you with his own hands, Barbatos beamed brightly, asking the question with a smile that almost felt too carefree.

MC: ...I'm not a doctor, and I don't know the rules of this hell, so forget about all that. Just put me down first.

You spoke with a bit of a pout, still feeling the lingering annoyance as you looked at Barbatos. Right now, you were in his arms like a child.

More specifically, it felt like a scenario at an amusement park, where a child was being carried by their father—his hands supporting your waist and hips, while you had one arm draped around his shoulder.

If you were holding a balloon in your other hand, it would've been perfect, but you weren't father and child, and this certainly wasn't an amusement park.

MC: ...All the devils are staring at us. Hurry up and put me down already...

Barbatos: I can't do that! Just a second ago, you were about to fall flat on your face, right? If I didn't catch you, you'd have definitely ended up eating the dirt!

Besides, didn't you say you were low on demonic energy? If that's the case, I can't just leave you hanging like this.

MC: What does that have to do with you?

You kept up the cold tone, but to be honest, it was getting harder to maintain the attitude.

Just a moment ago, when you were on the verge of collapsing from dizziness and shortness of breath, Barbatos instantly stretched out his arm to catch you.

What was more surprising, though, was the expression on his face—one that was uncharacteristically filled with shock and anxiety, as if the world itself were about to crumble.

MC: (Why is he making that expression...?)

It wasn't just the expression; his arm, hand, chest, and shoulder—all of it felt so steady, so undeniably masculine, giving you a sense of security.

In order to keep yourself from falling, you had no choice but to wrap your arm around the back of his neck and shoulder, your fingers tangling gently in his sun-kissed golden hair.

Moreover, you weren't a child, so with the way you were positioned in his arms, his face inevitably brushed against your lower chest and upper stomach.

MC: (...This isn't helping me calm down...)

You couldn't conceal the growing shortness of your breath as you struggled to steady your spinning mind.

But your erratic, heated breathing escaped, falling onto Barbatos' head. As a result, you ended up looking like you were the one seducing him. Barbatos, still holding you, reached the center of the rose garden and satdown. He didn't seem to care at all that dirt or dew might stain his clothes. As you both dropped to the height of the low flower bushes, the sweet scentof the blossoms, which had already been filling your nose, became even more overwhelming. But strangely, it felt as though Barbatos' own scent was even more potent than the flowers.

MC: ...Barbatos?

You called his name in a daze, and he gave you a smile you'd never seen before— warm and full of depth— as he leaned in closer.

Barbatos: Yes, MC. I'm here. In this beautiful garden, it's just the two of us now.

Barbatos leaned closer, his nose brushing lightly against your skin as though tracing your scent. His sharp, smooth nose pressed against your hair as he inhaled deeply, then leisurely descended to your forehead, tickling the strands of your eyebrows before pausing softly on your eyelids.

MC: Ah.. Stop, it tickles..

Barbatos: Ah, MC. Right now, you radiate the scent of the blazing, glorious sun. The smell of simmering flames is pouring out from every inch of you.

His words, almost lyrical, blurred the line between reality and indulgence. But your body burned, filled with undeniable heat. And his gaze, like a wildfire, only grew hotter, devouring you with its intensity.

MC: I... still haven't forgiven you.

Barbatos: Is that so?

Barbatos chuckled quietly, as if savoring an inside joke only he understood. Without pausing, his nose brushed further down, skimming along your trembling eyelashes. Each faint graze sent your lashes quivering, and his deliberate exhale spilledwarmth across your skin. It wasn't your lips he sought but the space between your jawline and cheek, where his heated breath landed. The sensation was maddening, a mix of torment and temptation.

MC: You tried to kill me.. So why are you acting like this now?

Barbatos: Haha, MC. Didn't you already answer your own question?

MC: What..?

Barbatos: I tried to kill you, but I didn't. Why do you think that is?

MC: ......!

His voice was sweet like honey, yet the underlying meaning was chilling. He was right. Someone like him could have ended you in an instant. The moment the realization struck, Barbatos's large hand, still holding your waist, slipped under your clothes. His fingers pressed against the bare skin of your back, trailing languidly upward, his touch both soothing and searing.

MC: Hagh...! Wa-wait...! What are you doing...!

Barbatos: Doing as I please, you say? Hmm, perhaps... but can you blame me? It's practically begging me to come in, crying out so sweetly.

Following the hand that entered your clothes and rubbed your back, the hand that was supporting your butt also took off your lower body and rubbed your panties. In the quiet garden where you couldn't even hear the sound of a butterfly fluttering its wings. The lewd sound of the water you spilled touching his hand resonated.

MC: Ugh, ah... ahh... uh..!

Barbatos: Ahh, MC. You smell better and better. Hotter than the sun, sweeter than flowers.. Then what's flowing here must be honey?

He spoke in an ecstatic voice as he thrust his finger deeper into your wethole. As his large, thick finger slid in hotly, you couldn't ignore the pleasure that started there. You felt like your reason was going to fly away and curled your toes pitifully. Your chin lifted up without you knowing it, and your head fell back. Barbatos didn't miss the opportunity and buried his nose in your smooth neck.

MC: Ah, ugh, aghhh..! No, no..! I think I'm going to.. ah..!

Barbatos: As much as you want.

As Barbatos held your trembling body tighter and pistoned his fingers down faster, you quickly reached your climax along with the feeling of electricity flowing through your entire body.

MC: Ha, ahh, ugh.! Urgh, urgh.!

As Barbatos pulled his fingers out in one breath, the love juice poured out like urine, and it soaked not only Barbatos' hands and sleeves, but even the lively leaves.

Thump, thump, thump.!

Your hot and rapid breathing followed your heart that pounded loudly as if your entire body had become a heart.

MC: Hahh... haa... ha...

Barbatos: I should be grateful that you watered my garden.

Barbatos smiled happily as he looked at you, red-faced and limply hanging on his shoulder.

Your entire body was stil ticklish and hot, but you barely came to your senses after a single orgasm, and continued the conversation you had earlier without forgetting it.

MC: ...Should I thank you for sparing my life? But you only did that because you thought l was useful to Hades, didn't you?

Barbatos: Who made that judgment, I wonder?

MC: Leviathan, of course...

Barbatos: Ah, yes, his orders are the ultimate commandment for us devils of Hades. But to say his will is always completely aligned with ours? That would be a lie.

With measured movements, Barbatos gently lowered your limp body on to the soft bed of flowers and grass. The faint sound of crushed petals rustled beneath you, and as your gaze fixed upward, the sun's rightful place in the sky was replaced by Barbatos' dazzling face.

MC: (It shines just as brilliantly... maybe even more...)

The thought slipped into your mind, unbidden, though you hardly recognized it, lost in the after effects of the moment.

Barbatos moved swiftly, peeling off his shirt in one smooth motion while you struggled to catch your breath, your body still slightly arched.

In the sunlight, his form was like a divine sculpture— impossibly beautiful and unreal, as if he belonged in myth rather than reality.

Barbatos: To think you can throw such cold words while looking at me with those eyes, MC. You remind me a bit of our Majesty.

He lowered his chest, his bare skin gleaming under the sunlight, and placed a deliberate kiss on your collarbone. His voice held a mischievous, almost petulant tone.

MC: I remind you of Leviathan..? There's no way.. Ah, agh..

Barbatos: The truth is, you're so honest like this. You're always so pleased whenever I touch you, yet you keep trying to push me away.

As the large hand that had been rubbing your waist and back roughly moved upward, your top was lifted up to your chest in an instant.

At the same time, Barbatos buried his lips in your chest, and you let out a high-pitched moan that surprised even you.

Barbatos: It's wetter than before, MC.

Because you were so focused on your chest, he had already taken off all of your pants, including your underwear.

Barbatos: You're so wet, it's for me? Right?

While he was teasing you with his strong arms and hands, revealing his manly body, Barbatos buried his lips in your chest as if he was being playful and asked. The soft flesh of your chest was strongly sucked into his lips, and when you felt it being sucked in to the point where it was a little painful, his lips fell off with a peck. He persistently searched for the pleasant spots like the inside of your chest, upper stomach, sides, and collarbone, and repeated the same process several times. Every time, you would gasp and convulse because of Barbatos, who would only tease you here and there on your body without touching the most important places.

Barbatos: Ahh.. On you, the flowers I made bloomed. MC..

Barbatos, who briefly raised his body and looked at your disheveled appearance, expressed his admiration.

MC: (Now, I don't know, I can't stand it anymore, I want to do it right now, with Barbatos's..!)

You, who had been passively feeling Barbatos's touch the whole time, couldn't stand it anymore and spread your legs wide, causing Barbatos to furrow his brows in a surprisingly nice way.

MC: (This is ridiculous.. You look better when you frown than when you smile..)

As you felt your lower abdomen and the space between your legs, and lifted your waist as if urging, Barbatos's brow furrows deepened, and soon his face, which had come down as if to pounce, bit your nipple. The moment his teeth sunk in, you trembled like a smal animal pricked by asharp rose thorn. The hand that had been resting on his head with nowhere to go reached outurgently and grabbed the back of Barbatos' head. The inside of the thick, curly hair that was wrapped between his palm and fingers was wet from excitement and heat.

MC: You're.. wet too.. ugh.. pretending to be fine.. hagh...

Barbatos: Ah, if I were to confess to the goddess of orchid while I'm at it, I'm already soaked here too...

Barbatos arched his back and rubbed something hard underneath you. You could tell without even looking what it was, stiff and shaking fiercely. You, who was desperate, shook Barbatos' hair in your hand like a horse's reins and squeezed his shaft so that it could touch you closer.

Barbatos: Agh.. MC.. you feeling better?

MC: Ye, yeeahh-!

Barbatos: What? I wish you'd answer properly. Are you feeling better?

He was mischievous, and he kept touching your tip just enough to tickle you and then pulling you back, forcing you to answer. In the end, you answered while putting strength into your toes and lifting your back, waist, and butt, covering his mouth with your chest.

MC: I-I for, forgive you...!

As soon as he heard your answer, Barbatos's body started to make bigger movements.

Whoosh-!

His large, hard, and hot pillar precisely found your wet hole and pierced it.

MC: Ah, Aghhh...

His pillar, which had a flexible shape like a rose vine, was slightly bent at the end and pressed precisely on the most pleasant spot deep inside you.

MC: Barbatos, Ah, It feels so, Ah..!

Barbatos: MC, MC.. My sun.. My rose.. Hagh... Ha...

Every time Barbatos roughly moved his waist, a thick fragrance wafted from the grass and flower petals crushed beneath you.

He really seemed to be more energetic and stronger under the sun than anyone else, his strange and light appearance was nowhere to be found, and he was devouring you with a scary, sexy, and exquisite manly face.

In that moment, your vision, which had been shaking wildly with your head tilted back, suddenly turned to the surrounding scenery, not Barbatos.

A place without walls or ceilings. In other words, this was completely outdoors.

MC:..! Ba, Barbatos, wa, wait.. ugh...?!

You belatedly came to your senses and tried to calm Barbatos down, but Barbatos, whose excitement had already surpassed his reasoning, seemed not to hear you.He moved his waist so fast and rhythmically that you couldn't even continue speaking properly, and you could only make sounds in syllables to match it.

Barbatos: Huh? MC, what's going on? Why are you suddenly getting tighter? Ah, are you also excited by this sunlight!

MC: Ah, ugh, ugh, that, ugh, no, ugh, huh, ha, ugh..!

Barbatos: Sometimes warm, sometimes hot, sometimes dazzling.. All of those great things are now in you, MC...!

Barbatos: Let's reveal it all, MC. Let the sunlight seep into every nook and cranny of your body and let the warmth linger...!

You wanted to tell him that someone might come, and that you guys would be showing them everything, but Barbatos didn't seem to care at all. He sucked the tip of your breasts like he was sucking honey that would never come out, and he thrust inside you so much that you could hear a thud sound from below, which showed no sign of calming down.

MC: (It's dangerous, dangerous, dangerous, really, I'm gonna..)

You had already climaxed several times with just his hand, and you had also felt shallow orgasms several times with his clone who kept poking you in the most pleasant places.

No, you were stil feeling it. Just as the sun staring down at you from above never sets until night falls, his excitement didn't seem like it would subside.You wanted to shake your hips and cry in this pleasure forever, but you two had a lot to do.

MC: (Go back.. and the seed of the Tree of Knowledge.....ah, I don't know... I don't know!)

You released the strength from your hand that was holding his hair, and reached over his head to grab his horn.

Barbatos: Ughhh..!

Barbatos's firm body gained strength once more, and his thing moved inside you with a bang!

A low growl rumbled from Barbatos' throat as you stroked his horn up and down in a similar rhythm to the way he slurped beneath you.

Barbatos: MC... Ah... In here.. In herer, I want to plant a flower that smells like you and me...

Barbatos, who always had a expression that was almost annoying, and with a face that was completely relaxed from excitement, pleaded.

Barbatos: I'll give you a lot of my seed, MC, in here, inside you, my seed...

Your mouth was watering because of the voice that was dripping with sexiness.

When his movements, the wet sounds, the sound of flesh coliding, and the rough breathing of the two finally couldn't be more passionate.

MC: Haghhh-!

Your one hand that had been gnawing on the poor grass grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him, and soon Barbatos' bright red lips were swallowed by you.

Gulp, gulp, gulp..!

At the same time, your saliva that had been collected flowed into his throat, and white, thick liquid burst out from the pillars above and below his head.

Flinch, flinch, flinch..!

The two of you, without even separating your lips or lower body, still exerted all the strength and greedily shared and swallowed the liquids that each other had vomited out.

Finally, the bright red excitement that had risen to the tip of your head gradually cooled down and your waist, which had been raised high without any shame, slowly lowered to the ground.

MC: Haa... Haa... Haa...

Barbatos: Hagh... Hagh... Hagh...

Rough breathing mixed between your lips that had not been able to separate that far because you were regretful.

A languid feeling of exhaustion was felt throughout their entire body and they couldn't move a single finger.

Before you knew it, the sun had already set a little.

MC: (How long did we do it..)

Thanks to that, you felt great and your body had completely recovered, but you felt embarrassed belatedly.

At that time, just like when you had just come here, Barbatos lightly touched his sharp nose to your skin and moved as if smeling every part ofyour body.

You whined, feeling ticklish, as if you were about to get excited again. Then, Barbatos muttered with a strange expression.

Barbatos: The sun is stil high above, but it feels like the scent of the sun has faded from you, MC.

At Barbatos' unexpected comment, you couldn't help but laugh out loud.

MC: You dummy, after you've been sucking and nibbling on me like that, of course it's not the sun's scent anymore, it's yours.

Barbatos: ..! My scent..!

Barbatos' eyes widened in realization, as if he'd discovered something important and profound. Then, like a satisfied cat, he narrowed his eyes, his voice smooth and alluring, almost vibrating from his heels to his neck.

Barbatos: MC, you've become a part of my garden, haven't you?

He gently brushed your sweat-drenched hair aside and smiled.

Barbatos: I've made you bloom, MC. A flower that now carries my scent...

MC: ...You once called me the sun.

Barbatos: You can be both. You truly are incredible! My rose, my sun!

With a laugh, Barbatos returned to his usual self, puling you into his embrace as he chuckled.

The weight of his body covering yours like a blanket, combined with his intoxicating scent, made you slowly drift toward sleep.

MC: (I said I forgave him earlier, but... I'll make sure to ask him about this later...)

As that thought lingered, you fell asleep, and Barbatos slowly rose, listening to the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Your body, marked with red and bite marks, now looked like a garden in full bloom.

He kissed the edge of your knee lightly before his eyes wandered to the wetness beneath you, gazing at it with a mischievous look.

Barbatos: (...One day, truly... my seed...)

Of course, this thought was one you wouldn't learn of for a long time.

[END]

[darklinaforever]

So ! I need to say that !

Hades & Persephone's relationship is canonically a loving and quite healthy relationship in the context of Greek mythology which represents a form of balance for the world through the cycle of the seasons. Persephone is not a victim of Hades either... Anyone who has studied Greek mythology can actually explain it to you.

That's a bad vision of the original myth due to a too modern interpretation. It's not the modern era that romanticizes this basic relationship. This was already the case in Greek times...

It even seems to me that Hades and Persephone were often represented on the vases given to newlyweds (pretty crazy, since Hera was literally the goddess of marriage) because they were always described as having a loving, supportive and harmonious marriage.

And if you're looking for a real culprit in the union of Hades & Persephone, there's literally Zeus, who authorized the marriage between the two after Hades came to ask him. Hades didn't kidnap Persephone as soon as he saw her. He first asked to his father, Zeus, for her hand in marriage, as in the Greek traditions of the time.

In some versions of the myth, it even seems to me that Aphrodite is the one who provoked Hades' love for Persephone by sending Eros to plant an arrow in her after being upset by a refusal. But for now, I'm not sure of Aphrodite's real involvement.

But regardless, in the original myth, the one blamed is actually very clearly Zeus. He is the one, once again, having authorized the kidnapping of Persephone, which in Greek traditions translates into an engagement, and who has caused the whole messy situation with poor Demeter.

As for the grenade episode, it doesn't seem to me that we can know the original version. So the whole "Hades forced Persephone to eat the pomegranate" thing is also bullshit.

There doesn't even seem to me to be any indication of Persephone having been mistreated in any way by Hades in the myth. It's again bullshit.

I'm making this post because I've had yet another person explain to me that Persephone is a victim of Hades and that our modern age romanticizes the relationship between the two.

"Yes. Like Persephone gets bastardised. Persephone was Hades's assault victim. People try to "modernize" her by making her want Hades (all while making Demeter to be in the wrong). Mina was Dracula's assault victim. People try to "modernize" her by making her cheat on Jonathan for Dracula."

Except no. Persephone is not a victim of Hades in the context of Greek myth. That's a stinking modern vision. Kind of ironic, when you argue that it's the modern view that stands in for the real version of Persephone being a victim of Hades when... well no. It's the modern era that makes Persephone a victim of abuse at the hands of Hades, (this all reminds me of how people make Rhaenyra a victim of grooming in her relationship with Daemon) while that is not the case in the context of the original myth. As I explained above, this interpretation is modern bullshit. And it is very important to transcribe the myths in their ancient context to understand their various messages, otherwise you will miss the point.

But I won't elaborate further because @cthonisprincess has already explained it very well. I invite you to go and see these reblogs below which detail the whole affair of Hades and Persephone in much more detail :

I even recommend this video :

My god, I can't believe that in 2024, people are still at the stage of demonizing Hades, even though he is one of the rare decents gods, and still claiming that Persephone is an assault victim of Hades... This is a shameful distortion of the original myth and a real bastardization of the goddess Persephone.

Also... we're literally talking about a myth. The goal of a myth is to be reinvented according to the times. So what does it matter that there are adaptations of the myth that differ from the said myth, or rather from the biased vision that some have of making Persephone a poor victim of the evil Hades ?!

@aleksanderscult

[raintranslated]

Complete Best Regret Messages: Kallen

Read on Dreamwidth!

Extolling the Brave Chivalry of Youth[1]

Before I met you, I was really just irritated. I thought: "I want to change the world[2]," but though I lashed out, recklessly, I didn't actually believe I would be able to change anything.

When I lost my brother, it was like a heavy door had slammed shut behind me. I wasn't going to let that go. I'd fight to the bitter end. There'd be no going back, I decided. And then, someday, I'd die — just like my brother had. To the end, Kouzuki Kallen would follow no leader, serve no master[3]. Dimly, I'd thought that small, stubborn pride would be the end of me. But then: like a morning star coming into view, you called for me[4].

Whenever I was doing something for your sake, I felt lighter. No battle was too difficult. Whenever you directed us to a battlefield, I came running, wanting to be the first one there[5]. I wanted to become a lion, to rip your enemies apart with my teeth. To dirty myself with any amount of muck[6], so long as it cleared the way for you.

It's strange, really, if you think about it. It was supposed to be about loathing — and fighting against — Britannian despotism, but before I knew it, I had all this personal loyalty to you[7].

Hey, Lelouch. That last moment we had together, with that kiss… Well, if you'd said I love you[8] back then, it wouldn't have mattered if it was a lie — I still would have followed you all the way into your personal hell. But you already knew that, didn't you?

Not very characteristic of you, was it. Wasn't manipulating people by saying that sort of thing one of your talents…? Yeah, that was so uncharacteristically… gentle.[9] Is that what you were trying to say, when you told me to live on…?

Even though that sort of gentleness isn't at all why I fell for you[10], heh[11].

Translation notes below the cut. Original Japanese text for you to check yourself transcribed from the above image available at my Dreamwidth link.

[1] This is the title of the first ending theme; other regret messages similarly take their titles from theme songs. This was released as part of an Original Soundtrack CD, after all. [2] 現実=reality, to be more literal. [3] 支配者たちに従わなかった = serve/follow/obey no masters/leaders/rulers. IMHO this use of たち makes perfect sense in Japanese, but "serve no masters" sounds somewhat grammatically awkward. Importantly, given what Kallen is about to talk about, I think she's speaking somewhat ironically about how she'd made this small vow to herself, but was about to wind up following/serving/etc Zero. [4] The verb, 誘う, means to invite or to call for or to take someone along (and also to tempt/lure/entice/seduce); in this case, I think Kallen is referring both literally and metaphorically to Lelouch suddenly calling her on the radio in Stage 2 and guiding her to victory. [5] Sudden volitional form on this and the next three lines, indicating (in this context) Kallen's strong intention to do [whatever]. The switch here to present-tense isn't literal, but rather a common device in Japanese writing to add a sense of emphasis and immediacy, sort of like when an English sentence begins with "Suddenly…!" [6] Given the "title", likely a bit of a reference to the lyric 混濁の純潔この身は汚れても / Even if my purity is sullied and this self is dirtied. [7] だもの is a sentence ending that indicates a reason in a tone of protest, such as 14歳だものね = "You're fourteen," where the speaker is probably pointing out that the person they're talking to is too young (to stay out late, or whatever). In this case, the はずなのに + んだもの is definitely a complaint. She should have been focused on the larger war, but she wound up more focused on her personal loyalty to "Lelouch, ugh" — sort of a sentiment. (Though, I'm sure, affectionate now.) [8] Strong, dramatic phrasing here, because such strong dramatic phrasing would have swept Kallen off her feet and convinced her, as she elucidates, to follow him anywhere — even if it meant throwing away her morals and working for what she thought, at the time, was a mad tyrant. (Claims I've seen about this line, that Kallen wouldn't have even imagined Lelouch saying it hypothetically if she hadn't been completely sure he loved her — are extremely weird and based on nothing at all, lol.) [9] Again, the present-tense here adding emphasis. [10] 好きになっ��=to come to care about, to learn to like, to fall in love with. This phrase is used platonically as well as romantically (you can, for example, talk about developing a taste for beer this way). Kallen almost certainly means it romantically, of course, given all the givens — but she's not necessarily talking about deep love; this wording could very easily be a crush. [11] This and "Well" and a couple of other little flourishes have been added to the English in an attempt to convey the very casual tone of Kallen's entire message, which is full to the brim with ね: like she's talking casually, albeit in a heartfelt way, to a friend (or perhaps a boyfriend! if you want to interpret it that way!) — rather than writing a dramatic letter.

[dsknsk]

Canto 8 and the Chinese language (and how to pronounce the character names + other words)

Long before this Canto started, I've felt the need to make a post about how the Chinese language works, at least on the basics that I've been taught. I feel like understanding at least part of the language also makes you peer into the hows and the whys of things...and you at least get an idea of how to pronounce them.

First off, the term "Chinese language" is fairly cloudy to begin with, and the reasons as to why are beyond the scope of this article. If you want to know more, here's a pretty good explanation. It's also the reason why, outside of this article, I only ever address the language with the word "汉语".

Note: I am a HSK3 graduate. My Chinese won't be perfect, and I won't be good as a native, and this post only describes the approximations to give a general idea of things. Please don't go "well ackshually assumptions based on translations are bad" or "you're inaccurate because xyz" on me, I don't intend to be entirely accurate, just to give a general idea of things. See my post as malarky if that suits you better and move on. Please.

Basics

When I first learnt the Chinese language, my first lesson didn't actually contain any new words. My first lesson was all about pronunciation.

It was also the furthest my mother and the other participants got before dropping out, so I will try and make this as concise as possible.

Chinese is a tonal language. Many people hear it and will say that it sounds as if they're singing all the time. The Chinese language has four ways in which a given syllable (I'm using the "a" as an example) can be pronounced, and then one loose toneless way.

The "flat" tone. This is shown in pinyin like "ā".

The "rising" tone. This is shown in pinyin like "á".

The "falling-rising" tone. This is shown in pinyin like "ǎ".

The "falling" tone. This is shown in pinyin like "à".

The "toneless" tone. Which is only ever used in words that end a sentence like question particles to indicate that the sentence is a question, like 呢 or 吗, or as the last syllable of a word in some cases. This one is also shorter than the others and you know it's this one if there's nothing above the letter in pinyin.

To get the best example of how these sound like (which is better than me trying to describe them vaguely) is to just listen to this guy pronounce the syllable "ma" in the first four tones in order here.

I will try to put an approximate English word/tone to kind of show you how it sort of is pronounced, though it isn't entirely accurate as...well, Chinese has certain things that English just doesn't have, like how they pronounce their "r" or their "ie" sound, which cases are a bit more difficult to transcribe. If you want to know exactly how the syllables and letters I use are pronounced, this page will be a large help since I also took a lot of it from there (in combination with my own experience of course). But below, the letter that I mean in the word is bolded.

A big part of Chinese wordplay consists out of "the same/similar pronunciation, a different word", i.e (near-)homophones. Think of how we have the word "bat" which can refer to a piece of sports equipment as well as to an animal. A large example of this is actually present - there are the families Jiǎ (賈/贾) and Zhēn (甄), where the aforementioned "Jiǎ" is a homophone with the word 假, which means "false" or "fictitious". Meanwhile - predictably - "Zhēn" can be written as 真, which means "real". And yes, the book has a Zhēn Bǎoyù.

This can even carry into social customs. It is considered to be rude and unlucky to give a clock or a pear on a wedding, since both of these relate to the pronunciations of the words "seperate" and "to leave". The likely reason why it's customary to give apples at the year's end in District 8 is probably because the word for "apple" sounds similar to the word for "safety".

One more thing - and this is purely about the written version of the language. You may have seen that sometimes, I use two iterations of the same word. In that case, the first one is the traditional, and the second one is the simplified version of the word. Somewhere in the long history of China which I won't get into now, they decided that, in order to stay with the times and to maintain ease in relationships with other countries, that they had to squish down all words that could not be written within 10 strokes. The country I hail from, Taiwan, however, still uses traditional (as well as Wade-Giles instead of pinyin - they basically just stuck to the old ways). This is why some words look wildly different, yet some are unchanged.

Funfact - there are currently two locations where pinyin can be found in the actual game with their tone tags. One is, of course, the name of the season, but it can be found way back in Kurokumo Hong Lu's passive name:

Names

For the sake of keeping this post to a respectible length, I will only include the names of the most important characters in the Canto.

Hong Lu/Jia Baoyu

鴻路/鸿路 hóng lù "h" as in Scottish "loch"; "o" as in "hold"; "u" as in "looking" meaning is in article text

贾寶玉/贾宝玉 jiǎ bǎoyù "j" is sort of like the English "ch" but a bit different (for the experts, it's called alveolo-palatal pronunciation) that's a bit difficult to describe, I personally stick with the "j" in "jade"; "b" is a hard "b" (sorta sounding like the English "p" in "spy"), see for more notes on the "u" in Xichun's name but here it is kind of like the "u" in "tune" literal meaning: surname Jia; "precious jade"

To start with the centerpiece, Hong Lu. Many people mistakenly pointed out that his name was directly taken from his source book's title. This is, however, not true. The translation note in his introductory video (in the English subtitles - note that said video also has subtitles for both traditional and simplified Chinese) states that it means "great jade". 鸿's secondary, older meaning (the first is "swan") is "great" or "grand", 路 refers to a "path" or "road" and in this context refers to a "path jade", a hollowed jade bead that's worn around the neck in a necklace. It is called that way because when the wearer walks, the jade will also "roll along" due to the friction; thus, wearing a path jade makes one's path as smooth as the jade.

It should be noted that this is the only name that does not have a "source" - all other Sinners minus one have names that are directly mentioned in their respective books, with the only other one, Yi Sang, being a writer. Hong Lu meanwhile, his name is not taken from a character, with his name just being the words "great (path) jade". This gives off a facetious vibe even before we get to know it is indeed a chosen alias - fitting with the book's theme of reality vs fantasy.

For your complete clarity: the name of the book is written as 紅樓夢/红楼梦/, and spoken as "hóng lóu mèng" (same h and o again; "ou" as in "loud" but more of an emphasis on the o, and "e" as in "understatement"). They are very much different words with different pronunciations, though I wouldn't entirely rule out that it could've simply been a pun - as the Chinese often do.

Jia Xichun 賈惜春/贾惜春 jiǎ xīchūn "j" as the hard j of "jade"; the "i" in "ia" is typically semi-silent and "ia" is uttered as "ya"; "xi" is spoken as "see"; "ch" as "chowing down" and "un" as in "under" literal meaning: surname Jia; "treasuring spring (as in the season)"

Many people think that the "u" in Japanese and Chinese must always be as in "you", similar how they use it in the place of "you". However, in some cases in Chinese, it can be just the "u". An example of the "u" just being "u" is the second word in Xichun's given name, "chūn". Another example of the "u" sound changing would be "Lin Yüxia", where the u is also in diaeresis (this is not always the case, but is more common where the u happens to end the syllable, like in this example where the syllable is "yü" (meaning "rain")). Funnily enough, her third skill's name "Crimson Spring" references her name. In the book, she and her sisters all have the word "spring" in their name, with the theming being that their names describe the spring as it passes. It's kinda like how several of the Kardashians have their names starting with the letter K, only a tad more poetical. Xichun, "treasuring spring", being the youngest, thus denotes the last days of spring as it goes to become summer.

Jia Huan 賈環/贾环 jiǎ huán "j" as the hard j of "jade"; the "i" in "ia" is typically semi-silent and "ia" is uttered as "ya"; "huan" is similar to "one" but with an "h" in front of it that is the same "h" as I described with Hong Lu literal meaning: surname Jia; "ring"

Funfact. 環 is pronounced "tamaki" in Japanese.

Jia Qiu 賈丘/贾丘 jǐa qiū "j" as the hard j of "jade"; the "i" in "ia" is typically semi-silent and "ia" is uttered as "ya"; "q" is like the aforementioned "j", just with aspiration; the "iu" is somewhat like "you", but as if one would add a "w" sound to the end of it literal meaning: surname Jia; "hill/grave" (short for Confucius in this context)

丘 derives from 孔丘, Confucius. Even though this character was never a character in the book, it is possible that he represents Confucian values that are also a theme in the book.

Zilu 子路 zǐlù "z" as in "cats" but without aspiration; the "i" in this case is nearly silent but kinda sounds like "uh"; "u" as in "looking" literal meaning: "child's path", courtesy name of Zhong You

Zigong 子贡 zǐgòng "z" as in "cats" but without aspiration; the "i" in this case is nearly silent but kinda sounds like "uh"; "g" is like "k" but unaspirated, like "scar", "o" somewhat like English "awe" literal meaning: "child's tribute", courtesy name of Dianmu Ci

Wei 卫 wèi you know the memes. "way". It's really as simple as that. literal meaning: "guard"

This guy's just really simple.

Jia Mu/Shi Miyin 賈母/贾母 jǐa mǔ "j" as the hard j of "jade"; the "i" in "ia" is typically semi-silent and "ia" is uttered as "ya" literal meaning: surname Jia; "mother" (arch-mother in this interpretation); "shi" is similar to "sure" (yeah, "i" following "sh" or "s" is pronounced differently)

It's a title. Even before she says that she took on the position of Jia Mu, you can figure that out if you know that 母 is the word used. I unfortunately do not posess the hanzi and pinyin over her original name.

Jia Zheng 賈政/贾政 jǐa zhèng "j" as the hard j of "jade"; the "i" in "ia" is typically semi-silent and "ia" is uttered as "ya"; "zh" is a bit similar to "chat", the "e" is actually a dull "uh" sound (which is often the case), "ng" as in "sing" literal meaning: surname Jia, "rule"

Jia Yuanchun 賈元春/贾元春 jiǎ yuánchūn "j" as the hard j of "jade"; the "i" in "ia" is typically semi-silent and "ia" is uttered as "ya"; "yuan" is similar to the aforementioned "huan" but with a soft "y" sound; same "chun" as in Xichun's name literal meaning: surname Jia, "first spring"

Yuanchun is the oldest of the spring group, and such her name denotes the start of spring. She starts the group that Jia Yingchun ("welcoming spring"), Jia Tanchun ("seeking spring") and Jia Xichun ("treasuring spring") follow.

Xue Baochai 薛寶釵/薛宝钗 xuē bǎochāi "x" is similar to "sh" but with an alveolo-palatal pronunciation; the "ue" is...uh, like the "wa" in "away" I guess, the "bao" is the same as in Baoyu's name (which is kinda relevant), the "ch" is the same as in "chun" used before literal meaning: surname Xue; "precious hairpin"

As you can see, Baochai shares one part of her name with Baoyu. Daiyu shares the other part of the name. This is on purpose.

Xue Pan 薛蟠 xūe pán "x" is similar to "sh" but with an alveolo-palatal pronunciation; the "ue" is...uh, like the "wa" in "away" I guess, and the "a" is an open one, like in "ah" literal meaning: surname Xue, "to coil like a dragon"

Lin Daiyu 林黛玉 lín dàiyù The "yu" is the same as in Baoyu's name. literal meaning: surname Lin; "blue-black jade"

Daiyu shares the other part of Baoyu's name. This is still on purpose.

Hua Xiren 花袭人 huā xírén The r is kind of weird in that it's similar to z in zoo in English, but with a retroflex articulation. I personally learnt it first in the word 热 (warm) and I still kind of have a bone to pick with it, "en" as "un" literal meaning: surname Hua; "assailing people", literally "flower assails people" facturing in her family name

She's not mentioned with her family name in the Canto, but in the story she has an original family name. In most translations of the story she is, like the other servants, given a non-human name like "Aroma" or "Pervading Fragrance"; the translation I had gave her (translated back) the name of "Charm". It's chosen by Baoyu himself due to her last name reminding him of a line of poetry.

Lei Heng 雷横 léi héng "lei" is similar to "lay"; the "e" and the "ng" are the same as in Zheng's name literal meaning: "lightning", "across"

So the funny thing about him is that his name's actually from one of the other three Chinese Literature Classics, Water Margin.

Concepts

The Chinese subtitle of Canto 8 不思觀望/不思观望 bù sī guānwàng "b" is a hard "b" (sorta sounding like the English "p" in "spy"), "u" as in "looking"; "s" is like an English "s" butwith the tongue on the lower teeth; "g" is like "k" but unaspirated, like "scar", "uan" sorta like in "one", "a" as in "palm" literal meaning: either "don't wait and see" or "witnessing without consideration" depending whether you factor in 思 or consider the phrase a 成语 and you don't. I'd say both of them can be intentional, knowing the Canto.

Daguanyuan 大觀園/大观园 dàguānyuán the "uan" sounds are like before but differ a bit due to the preceeding g and y literal meaning "grand view garden"

H Corp's full name 鴻園生命工程集團/鸿园生命工程集团 hóng yuán shēngmìng gōngchéng jítuán The "hong" is the exact same as Hong Lu uses ("h" as in Scottish "loch"; "o" as in "hold"); "y" is like an English "j" but it's semi-silent; "uan" sorta like in "one"; "sh" is like the "sh" in English but with a retroflex articulation; "i" is like the English "ee", "e" is a bit like "uh" literal meaning: The great garden's life sciences (biology) group

Keep this one for last, people.

But hey. You've made it to the end of the post. Which I think, in my opinion, deserves a treat. I made this some time ago and this pretty much describes the hardship of learning the language when you're starting out. (Includes subtitles translated by me)

[saltpepperbeard]

Call It Through as a Crew: Alleviating Some Phone Anxiety

Hello everyone! So as you probably already know, there has been a recent call to make, well, calls! Another member of our crew figured out that the max customer service line (855-442-6629) is a very effective way to get our feedback heard, as the feedback gets transcribed and shared to a multitude of teams.

I already sort of briefly shared my experience on this post, but I wanted to go a bit more in detail to offer some solace for those who are also phone averse, as well as share resources and get the word out even more.

And y'all, when I say I'm phone averse, I mean PHONE AVERSE LMAO; MY FEET WERE SWEATING JSDKLS LIKE I WAS FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE. So I totally, TOTALLY get it, and am here to walk you through everything in detail!

So I called that number and was on a brief hold--probably like 5 minutes or so. The customer service representative (Margot my bestie Margot) then picked up, and asked for the email associated with my account as well as my full name.

I was extremely extremely worried and anxious about being bothersome/annoying the person on the other end and just being able to feel it in their tone, so I was shivering and sweating all the while. But then when she asked for my reason for calling, I said, "Oh, it's actually in regard to some feedback," and she went, "Is it for Our Flag Means Death?"

And we both laughed, and I was like, "Haha how did you knooooowww?" And she laughed some more and was like, "Let me tell you, I have never seen anything like this in all my years working here. We are getting so many calls. It's incredible."

And by that point, a large weight was off my chest because she was friendly, I was friendly, EVERYONE WAS FRIENDLY.

I laughed and told her that we were a very passionate and concerned bunch, and she told me that she thought that was so cool and also super important. She then allowed me to tell her my feedback, and she transcribed it as I talked. This was the little script I had prepared in case you'd like to reference it:

I just wanted to call and express my disappointment, dissatisfaction, and concern with the recent cancellation of Our Flag Means Death on Max. As a queer person myself, this show has a tremendous impact on me. And in a climate where so many diverse and LGBT-centric shows have unjust ends, I’d just like to express my wish for reconsideration, and just the hope that…Max will allow LGBT stories like ours to live and flourish. And I’m really worried about there being some kind of…homophobic angle to the cancellation, so it would mean the world to myself and so many others if the decision could be reversed, and we could get our third and final season.

I went a little graver than originally planned, because I saw talks that taking a DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) angle, as well a "hey I'm a queer person and this feels like a decision made for a nefarious purpose" angle, are supposedly more likely to be noted.

Anyway, she allowed me to say my piece and wrote it all down, and then actually stayed with me on the line to chat a bit more. So, the phone call didn't feel rushed or anxious which was SO so huge to me; it felt far more conversational.

She was like, "I don't want to toot our little horn or anything, but Max really takes all this feedback into consideration. It will be passed to the properties team (or something equivalent, I can't remember the EXACT term she used), and they're in charge of what goes on Max and why. So, I really feel like you guys have a fighting chance with these efforts."

And of course I was thanking her profusely for telling me all of this, and for listening; polite menace, that will be my brand!

But man, the coolest part of all? She told me that she was POC, and a queer person herself, and that this was all so cool and so amazing to see. She applauded our efforts, and expressed interested in the show. I laughed and said, "Well uhhhh I might have a BIT of a bias, but I cannot recommend it enough."

And then she proceeded to tell me that it might be even MORE effective to hit from different angles. So, keep calling (they're available 24/7), and also keep utilizing the online feedback form. Basically just keep FLOODING them with how much this means to us and why.

I then expressed a lot of gratitude, we exchanged pleasantries, and there was a brief survey at the end. I don't think the survey is necessary, so you can probably hang up by this point, but I stuck around for a little more horsepower. It tells you to rate the customer service on a scale of 1-5 with 5 being the highest, and you know I gave my bestie a fivvvveee. It also tells you to press 1/2 if your issue was resolved or not. I said HELL TO THE NO, DUDE SJDKLS. And THEN, it asks you to leave a voice message after the tone describing your experience. I said that I was with the customer service representative Margot, and that she was extremely friendly and helpful, but that the issue at hand will not be resolved until Max reserves their decision about the recent cancellation of Our Flag Means Death (I'm also always saying the show title in full as opposed to just the acronym, just for more OOMPH).

...And thennnn I proceed to shake it/shriek it all off LMAO.

Buuuut yeah! Probably took a total of 10 minutes or so. @xoxoemynn also shared with me that she's seen people say that these customer service representatives likely deal with older folks who need help with technology, and are subsequently stunned (and maybe even excited) to talk to younger people who just want to voice concerns instead of chew the poor customer service people out lol! And Margot also mentioned that they were eager to take calls no matter what, so as long as we're all polite and succinct, I don't think we'll have to worry about a very tense and awkward call.

I hope this alleviates some fear a bit! We got this, crew. We're doing so, so much. And it seems like it's being heard all over the place; it also seems like we've got so many people on our side, too. Big big hugs, and I'll share the necessary resources once more-

Customer Service Number: (855) 442-6629

The Online Feedback Form:

The original tumblr post with all the information:

The tumblr post where Fox and others were sharing even more information:

[finnbin]

Kyborg headcanons because he has lived in my brain for over a year like a nasty little parasite. Casual warning that most of these will be pretty depressing cus that's just how my brain works LOL enjoy ;)

there's a lot have fun

- Gum-Gum reminds him of his cousins. He actually does keep up that offer from when they were in Evirwinter and teaches him how to shoot a bow. It was seen as a familial tradition back home, but Kyborg is more than happy at being able to share this.

- The first kill with your bow was a rite of passage, followed by gutting and cooking the meat, before preparing the pelt for the child. The meat was cooked, and presented to those most respected by the child. He gave it to his parents. It's up to the child what they make with it, but Kyborg chose to make his bracer (arm-guard) from the dire wolf pelt he gained. He made gloves with the rest of it, and gave it to his sister.

- Feels a crushing amount of pressure to preserve his culture, but he isn't very practiced in common. He can write in elven, but it's a dialect from his own village: Evirish, so no-one but him can clearly read it. He finds it hard to remember traditions, without the pressure of being unable to transcribe them anyway.

- The idea that his heritage, and bloodline will die with him eats him up at night.

- Instead of writing them down, Kyborg enlists Bart's help, with the halfling transcribing for him. Bart also decides to help teach him common, and in exchange Kyborg teaches Bart Evirish. They both look back on these lessons warmly.

- He hates silence. Like, he hates silence, so much so that he finds it really hard to sit in a quiet room, or to try and sleep. It reminds him of the solitude of his childhood. He rambles and talks a lot of shit to compensate for this. Dr Ahem made him a little clock that ticks to fill the silence.

- Found Mudd the hardest to bond with, because of his opposite view of quiet. Mudd relishes in the quiet, enjoying just sitting and thinking about life. This led to the two having a tense relationship until they understood how the other felt.

- Always smells of pine wood.

- He loves baths so much, but if asked, he'd say he prefers showers. No-one believes him.

- Absurdly clingy, and hates being consciously by himself with nothing to focus on. He sticks like glue to people he trusts, always making sure they're in his eye-line, or that he knows where they are 24/7. Some find this annoying, so he tries to limit physical closeness, but does keep a mental tracker on their position.

- Despite this, he usually fucks off to 'patrol the area' or scavenge for supplies because he's been conditioned into believing that where he lives cannot be safe without constant surveillance. This causes no small amount of panic for the others when their stupid elf man randomly disappears. Kyborg is confused about people being concerned about him.

- Cuts his hair as soon as he can after the Massacre. Hair was seen as a form of honour, reputation and respect. He didn't think he deserved any of that anymore. He can't bring himself to fully cut it again, after that, but sometimes - if he believes he's screwed something up - he'll trim handfuls to his skull.

- Hoards food. Rations food. Has a terrible relationship with food. There's not much to eat in a frozen wasteland, so the overwhelming amount of food that is available to him is so weird. His stomach literally cannot handle how much he eats when he first finds the infinight's pantry. He feels so so guilty at wasting it, and hides any evidence. He doesn't eat big meals after that moment.

- Keeps an absurd amount of rations, and other provisions on him at any possible time, just in case something bad happens.

- So many scars. So so many.

- Unconsciously slips back into 'feral mode' and doesn't speak, or actually like himself. Usually happens after he is injured, especially on his shoulders or arm. Churs and growls, and is overly protective of his found family during these moments, often a concerning amount. Locks them all in a room with him and paces around, checking for danger. Usually doesn't respond to talking, and can't easily distinguish friend from foe. Bites. He is humiliated every time this happens and usually hides away somewhere for the next couple of hours before acting like nothing happened.

- Has horribly graphic fantasies about Quadron. That thirst to avenge had been his only motivation to stay alive. Revenge burns hot in his veins, and he never wanted that drive to keep moving to leave. Secretly fears that, when he gets his revenge, that he won't be able to keep living.

- Has chronic, and phantom, pain in shoulder and 'arm'. Usually ignores it, until Mudd catches him curled in on himself and practically forces Kyborg to let him help.

- Doesn't actually hate Brink. He is freaked out by his short hair, though. What had he done to deserve such constant haircuts?

- Felt a horrible kind of empty after Quadron died. Was secretly jealous that Mudd killed him.

- Never fully forgave Dr Ahem for what he did. Feels terrible, because he's dead, but can't find it in him. Still feels anxious around the robot assistants.

- He eventually finds Quadron's prototype blueprints as he's preparing the infinight hall for his hospital. Can't feel angry at him. There's messy markings over odd, old papers near the prototype, and memories of the man Quadron had been before he went insane; of the relationship between him and Ahem. Kyborg burns them all.

- Scared of bugs. They don't really exist in a winter forest, so they really freak him out.

- After he gained the Source Diagem, he saw glimpses of his family out of the corner of his eyes. No matter how much he hoped, they never fully showed themselves like they had on the blood moon.

- After he lost the gem, again, it was like opening an infected, raw wound again. He grieved for them.

- Had a pet fox before joining the infinights. Fred reminds him of her.

- Terrified of commitment, because of how much the first death hurt. Despite this, he can't help but get attached to the party. Hates himself for it.

- Saw his own family, when he died in the finale. They gave him that hug he craved for so many years.

yeah I have so many more but this is already so long but thank you and congrats if you made it to the bottom, have an arrow 🏹

[blundering-owl]

The will / mike / el love triangle has a lot of parallels with other love triangles (specifically touching on the media the Duffers referenced in ST).

Luke / Leia / Han Solo — there are a lot of misconceptions about the dynamics of this trio. I’ve seen others say Will = Han Solo, Mike = Leia, and El = Luke; but! this is only because Mike is the center of his love triangle, and has little to do with how the individual characters relate to each other. Obviously, the Duffers take huge inspiration from the og Star Wars trilogy, so these characters being similar to their counterparts in Star Wars is intentional.

In actuality, Will = Leia, Mike = Han Solo, and El = Luke. Let’s imagine, for a second, that Han Solo is the center of the love triangle (and that the incest subplot didn't happen).

El Byers-Hopper = Luke Skywalker Let’s start with the obvious: El and Luke both have telekinetic powers (although El’s extend to seeing into other people’s minds). Both characters start off as “orphans,” (with El being told by both Brenner and Hopper that her mom is dead — and, I’d assume, her bio dad as well) told by mentors and / or parental figures that their respective parents are dead (Obi Wan tells Luke that Darth Vader killed Anakin Skywalker, when they were one in the same) and Luke and El later find out that this is a lie. Also, both Hopper and Obi Wan say this because it’s an “easier” explanation. Like Luke, El is also a fraternal twin (although she and Will aren’t biologically related, they very closely resemble fraternal twins, so much so that they are known in-fandom as the Wonder Twins. They were likely mistaken for twins in Lenora, and several people have pointed out how closely El resembles Joyce in ST4 before her head is shaved).

Also, and this isn’t an in-show thing (nor was it an intention by the writers), but when ST4 dropped so many people were in denial about Will’s sexuality that they genuinely believed (or at least said) that Will was “in love” with El (his SISTER). So. George Lucas would probably find that funny.

Will Byers = Leia Skywalker / Organa Like Leia, Will is a leader in his own right (think: Will and Mike often make decisions together, and it’s implied this is something they’ve likely done as long as they’ve known each other). Leia and Will also exhibits more “masculine” or tomboyish traits than either El or Mike. Leia also starts the trilogy needing to be rescued (like Will in ST1). Will tends to be put in this position a lot, but like Leia, he’s competent in his own right (either by holding his own and surviving until others rescue him, or, as well hopefully see in ST5, he’ll be the one doing the rescuing). Will and Leia are also the twins not born with powers (although Will gains True Sight as a result of his time in the Upside Down, which he uses to spy on the Mindflayer, and Vecna through him, in ST2). This is also a smaller detail but both characters have a tendency to be sassy, usually with their respective love interests (Will with Mike, Leia with Han Solo). Both Will and Leia are also warriors, aside from being diplomatic, and have both used guns (or “blasters” in the case of Star Wars).

Mike Wheeler = Han Solo Starting with character traits: both characters are extremely loyal to their friends. They’re both sarcastic and snarky, and have a tendency to come off as an asshole. Also, Mike has heroic tendencies (although, it’s due to survivor’s guilt) and tend to be the de facto leaders of their respective groups. I wanna point out another similarity: specifically, the fight between Han and Leia in The Empire Strikes Back (1980). Below, I’ve transcribed it as best as I could, and I’m gonna go over the similarities between it and byler’s fights.

[Han Solo] “Come onnn. You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me.”

[Leia Organa] “Yes! You’ve been a great help to us. You’re a natural leader.”

[Han Solo] “No! That’s not it.” [pause] “C’mon. Ehh? C’mon!”

[Leia Organa] “You’re imagining things.”

[Han Solo] “Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was gonna leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?”

[Leia Organa] “I’d just as soon kiss a wookie.”

[Han Solo, angrily] “I can arrange that!” [off-screen] “and it’s YOU they’re gonna kiss!”

In this scene, Han is projecting about his feelings for Leia. Also, if I remember correctly, Leia had already developed feelings for Han at this point. As we’ve established, Mike was projecting during both the rain fight in ST3 and the Rink O Mania fight in ST4 (“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls” and “We’re friends! We’re friends!”) both being examples of Mike’s internalized homophobia. Mike is obviously paralleling Han here (they’re even on the same side of the screen during most of their respective fights). Although both Will and Leia have feelings for Mike and Han respectively when these fights take place, it is Mike and Han who bring up romantic implications / view the interaction as romantic (although obviously Han is more cavalier about this). Also, in both cases, Leia and Will genuinely mean what they’re saying platonically, regardless of their preexisting feelings for their love interests.

[pushovermediacritic]

The Land Before Time Liveblog 6

The Land Before Time VI: The Secret of Saurus Rock

Last Time: The Gang's home was damaged by a bug infestation and they went a road trip while it was being repaired, but their parents wouldn't stop arguing, so they ran away. The Gang stayed at the house of the same foreign kid they kidnapped in 2, but they were very rude and insulting toward his home and cuisine, hurting his feelings. However, someone broke into his house and The Gang helped his parents fight them off, so now they're all cool.

The Gang were driven home by a nice old lady with a huge crush on Littlefoot's grandpa, making the trip super awkward.

This Time: This is another one I haven't seen. Based on the title, I assume it's focusing on the Great Rock That Looks Like A Long-Neck from the first movie.

The Universal logo has been updated, but it's still not Pangaea. Still a missed opportunity.

The narrator has been replaced by Littlefoot's grandpa. Interesting decision. He's still narrating, but it's from a 1st-person POV and more focused on the in-universe legends and mythology of dinosaurs. Such as the idea that the Bright Circle birthed the Lesser Lights in the Dark Time (the sun created the stars).

And this isn't just a creative decision, Grandpa is actually telling these stories to The Gang around a lava crack (standing in for a campfire).

Littlefoot wants to know which stories are true, and the other kids scold him for interrupting (or "erupting" in Petrie's case). Grandpa resumes his stories, listing off the herds of dinosaurs that came into being.

When he gets to the Threehorns, Cera is ambushed by two smaller Threehorns.

The Darker One: "Ooh, Dana, Dinah!"

The Lighter One: "Threebie Hornas!"

The Darker One: "A-Hiya!"

...fuck. Shit, fuck, shit, goddamnit! I HAVE seen this movie! At least the start of it. I fucking repressed the memory of this scene.

These are Dana and Dinah, and I need you to know that I could NOT make out what the lighter one (whichever that is) said in that second bit, I have to look up the script of this movie to transcribe it accurately. I thought they said something like "Tweety warned us".

Actually, I think that's WHY I didn't remember watching this movie. It's coming back to me now. I'm pretty sure I remember sitting down in a playroom to watch a VHS, popping this one in because it's a Land Before Time movie I hadn't seen, and then I got to this scene and replayed this exact line of dialogue over and over again, just trying to figure out what the hell they were saying. Eventually I annoyed the supervising adults, the other kids, and myself enough that we switched the VHS to Batman Beyond.

These two aren't even good continuity! The first movie established that Cera has sisters, and she mentions them again in the second movie, which ends with her getting more, younger siblings. So you'd think Dana and Dinah would be her younger siblings from the second movie, right? Nope, she's apparently "Auntie Cera". So I can't even give them credit for that! So I guess Cera's dad has a brother or sister?

Grandpa tells the kids to settle down and resumes his story. Those herds found their way to the Great Valley and everything was good, until the biggest, meanest Sharptooth of all time found them. A Longneck kid gets his leg stuck while running from the Sharptooth, and his mom tried to save him but it was too late, all seemed lost until the Lone Dinosaur arrived. Obviously a riff on the Lone Ranger.

The Lone Dinosaur fought the Sharptooth for hours, and we only see the end of the fight. He tail-whipped the Sharptooth in the ribs, then the Sharptooth slashed him above his eye before a headbutt to the chest knocked him down. He wrapped his tail around its ankle and tripped it face-first into a boulder, then he tail-whipped it in the back, knocking it off a cliff.

With the fight over, the Lone Dinosaur leaves. The young Longneck he saved asks him to come back, but he just turns his head silently and walks off into the sunset.

Shortly afterward, there was an Earthshake and a huge rock magically erupted from the ground, crackling with blue electricity as it grew!

This is the titular "Saurus Rock"!

So, nothing to do with the Great Rock That Looks Like a Longneck from the first film? Also, not for nothing, but that rock from the first film looked a lot more like a Longneck than Saurus Rock does. See?

Anyway, Saurus Rock is actually still there, in the Great Valley, though it was never mentioned or referenced in any of the previous films because it's apparently hidden in mist most of the time. And it's also surrounded by a bunch of other mountaintops. Even though that's not apparent from the first scene we see it in. But we do see it in the background of Grandpa's story scene.

And according to Grandpa, there's a circle of teeth around Saurus Rock's neck, from the very Sharptooth the Lone Dinosaur defeated! And, uh, yeah, if you look close, you can actually see a circle of teeth there (both on the flashback one and the modern-day one). I guess that's something the Great Rock That Looks Like a Longneck doesn't have: a sick Sharptooth tooth necklace.

When Auntie Cera notices the twins shuddering in fear, she decides to add to the story to spook them.

Cera: "They say that some nights, you can see the ghost of that Sharptooth, wandering around, looking for his teeth!" *she jumps at them from behind while roaring*

*The Gang all laugh*

The Darker One: "Scary Dana!"

The Lighter One: "Dinah No-no!"

Dana and Dinah: "Uh-uh!"

Grandpa *laughing*: "We-he-hell, I’ve never heard that part of the legend, but they do say that if anything ever happens to Saurus Rock, bad luck will descend upon the Great Valley."

Okay, so what I'm gathering from Dana and Dinah's dialogue, they are legit babies. Like, actual toddlers. That makes me a little more forgiving. I thought they were just annoying brats, but they're barely stringing words together. Also the darker one is Dana and the lighter one is Dinah. According to the wiki, Dana is male and Dinah is female.

Littlefoot asks again if it's true, and Grandpa just says it's a good story, and nice to think about. LIttlefoot's grandma walks up and scolds Grandpa for telling them stories when it's almost bedtime. The kids all go home, Cera having to let her niece and nephew ride on her back because they claim to be too tired to walk.

That night, Littlefoot dreams of himself being the Lone Dinosaur (still child-size). He gives that mean 'ol Sharptooth a tail-whip to the foot and it hops away in pain. The other dinosaurs cheer and raise him up. Littlefoot then wakes up and wonders if it's true, and we get a mysterious silhouette standing on a rock against the moon.

I will say, I'm not exactly sold on the "An American Tail 2: Fievel Goes West"-ness of this plot so far, but I do think this visual is pretty striking.

The next day, The Gang is eating Tree Stars and the twin baby Threehorns are cheering on Spike to headbutt a tree and knock more down. They climb up the tree and shake a branch to make more fall. Cera's dad then shows up to scold the kids, because it's Autumn (the time of the Changing Tree Stars) and they need to eat the leaves as they fall, not shake more out. Grandpa shows up to mediate (he's always there when conflict arises). Cera's dad then scolds her for not watching the twins, and they fall out of the tree right on his head.

Cera: "Rrrright here, sssee?"

Cera's dad (grumbling): "Huh, hanging with those Longnecks, should've been watching the twi-ugh..."

He stomps off and Grandpa follows. Yeah, this is following up on 5, Cera's dad is still racist. Though I'm not sure if this is enough to say the racism theme is still fully in play.

The kids think about what to play next, and Littlefoot wants to play "the Lone Dinosaur", with a Sharptooth that chases everyone and then a hero to save them. Because it was his idea, Littlefoot calls the Lone Dinosaur, and whoever plays the Sharptooth has to be big and mean.

Hmm...

I like the character animation, but they already did this bit! In two different ways!

In 2, they mention that Cera is sick of always playing the Sharptooth in games, and in 1, they all unanimously decide that Ducky has to be bait for the Sharptooth. Littlefoot even gives her the same face he gives Cera here:

Also, it's really weird to compare the designs. It's been a real frog-boiling experience, where the design shifts from movie to movie are so gradual it's hard to notice. And this is only movie 6!

Cera's surprised they want her to play the villain (again, she shouldn't be, according to movie 2 they make her do this all the time), but Petrie reminds her of how she scared the twins last night. She buys it and starts roaring and chasing them into a small crevice. Littlefoot wants to make a dramatic entrance, so he stands up high on a rotting log, which then breaks under his weight and he falls.

But then Littlefoot is rescued by a mysterious new Longneck named Doc who looks just like the Lone Dinosaur. Or at least, the imagined version of him from the story. Doc is a Diplodocus, voiced by Kris Kristofferson. Cera's dad shows up and is immediately suspicious of this stranger, and then Littlefoot's grandma and grandpa show up and the kids explain what happened. Grandma welcomes Doc to the Great Valley, but Cera's dad needs to meet his racism quota for the day.

Cera's dad: "Hold on there, we don't know anything about this fellow. Who is he? Where's his herd?"

Doc: "Kind of a loner."

Cera's dad: "Mighty suspicious if you ask me. I say send him on his way."

Doc (menacing): "You sure you feel up to it, friend?"

Cera's dad: "Well, I- uuuhhh, that is, uh-"

Grandpa: "Uh, our life here is a sheltered one, eh, perhaps we've forgotten how to greet unexpected guests. As Grandma said, you're welcome here. What's ours, is yours."

Cera's dad: "WHAT?! But- i~it's the time of the Changing Tree Stars! Every day, there's less food to go around! And Longnecks eat a LOT!!"

Grandpa: "There's still plenty for all."

Cera's dad (grumbling): "Huh! Longnecks, always stick together instead of protecti... *he storms off*

Wow, we are officially keeping the racism theme A-ROLLING! Seems like this time around, we're folding in "distrust of outsiders" into it. Also, it's become a very consistent character trait for Cera's dad to be overly conscious of food and water shortages. Not unreasonably, considering he's experienced one drought and three famines so far, but it's always him speaking up about it and demanding that people ration.

Grandpa insists that Cera's dad is good once you get to know him, and Doc quips that he doesn't want to stay that long, which gets a laugh from all the kids except Cera (even the twins). Grandma tells the kids to run and play, but Littlefoot's still star-struck. For the first time this scene, we the audience see the left side of Doc's head, and it's got the scar the Lone Dinosaur got from the Sharptooth battle on it. Littlefoot then leaves with the rest.

Later, Doc is eating leaves from a tree and Littlefoot is spying on him, creeping closer. But Doc already noticed him, and he asks why he's not playing with his friends. Littlefoot just thanks him again for saving him. Doc brushes it off. Littlefoot recommends a place to get Tree Stars, but Doc already knows where it is because he's been here before. Doc does a precise tail-whip to cut the last cluster of leaves from the tree, and then Littlefoot notices the scar, too. Littlefoot asks about it and Doc brushes that off, too, telling him firmly to go play with his friends. Littlefoot takes the cue and leaves.

Meanwhile, the other kids are playing at a bubbling mud puddle. Cera makes a game of hopping across on the big bubbles, but the twins jump past her and dunk her in the mud. She climbs out, annoyed, and then the twins tackle her again. Cera finally snaps and tells them to get lost. The twins tear up as the rest of The Gang shoot her dirty looks. Then Littlefoot runs in, tackling Cera again, launching her back into the mud. Littlefoot insists that Doc is the Lone Dinosaur, but the other kids are skeptical. To convince them, Littlefoot jumps into the first song of the movie, the Legend of the Lone Dinosaur.

You know, I'd be disappointed if this wasn't a western song. That said, it's decent. Pretty catchy, and I like how the mud is used. I like the use of imagination sequences again, but they're not quite as fun as in Big Water. Petrie knowing the term "carnivore" is a bit odd, but it's a good rhyme, so I'll let it slide.

I do think it's funny how Littlefoot just makes up shit to add to the Lone Dinosaur lore. Originally, he was just a badass wanderer, but now he's got an elaborate mythological origin story. Between this song and the last scene, I think they're implying another theme about how your heroes are just people, and hero-worshiping them is weird and makes them uncomfortable. Let's see if I'm right.

After the song, the other kids are won over to the idea, but Cera's still skeptical. She points out that Littlefoot's grandma said those were just stories, and also they supposedly happened a long, long, long time ago, meaning the real Lone Dinosaur would have died of old age by now.

Littlefoot: "Well, I think he is alive! And he's right here in the Great Valley! I'll bet, if you ever got a goood look at Saurus Rock, you'd see it looks just like Doc!"

Dinah (whispering): "Dana, Dinah, rocky go-go!"

Dana and Dinah (whispering): "Now!"

Oh dear. The Threehorn toddler twins have already gotten in trouble tree-climbing, now they're conspiring to go rock-climbing. And Cera already told them to buzz off earlier. Grandpa calls Littlefoot away and the twins sneak off.

That night, Littlefoot is quoting Taxi Driver's "You talkin' to me" scene while pretending to be tough, mimicking Doc. This is the second time Land Before Time has directly referenced another piece of media (the first was earlier in this very movie with the "Lone Dinosaur" referencing the Lone Ranger), and I don't like it. The insular and self-contained nature of the setting is a big thematic element of the franchise, and this breaks it in a different way than the cooking references in 5 broke it and Ozzy saying the word "Struthiomimus" broke it. It just feels weird, like it doesn't belong.

Grandpa tells Littlefoot to go to sleep, and he does.

Early the next morning, Cera wakes Littlefoot up asking if he's seen the twins. The Gang search around for the Twins and Cera starts headbutting a tree in frustration. They start recalling the events of yesterday, and Cera blames herself for telling them to leave her alone, but they eventually remember Littlefoot also talked about seeing Saurus Rock and conclude that must be where they are.

Meanwhile, the twins are having a blast getting themselves in trouble, climbing WAY high up while giggling and laughing non-stop.

I take it back, these two are annoying.

The Gang follows.

Cera (tearfully): "And I remember the day Dinah said her first words!" (flat) "Or was it Dana?" (tearfully) *sniff* "'Shiny peep-eye no-no!'" (sarcastic) "Whatever that means."

Ducky: "It is simple. That means 'the Bright Circle is shining in my eyes and it hurts'."

Cera: "How'd you know that?"

Ducky: "I am also a twin. 13 of us hatched at the same time! 13 twins!"

Littlefoot: "C'mon, you guys! We've got a long way to go!"

Cera: "So then, what does 'no-no grampy threebie grrr' mean?"

Ducky: "That means 'never make grandpa threehorn mad'."

Cera: "Are you sure about that one?"

Ducky: "No, but it is good advice just the same!"

Wait, "grandpa three-horn"? I thought... it's now that I'm realizing I'm an idiot and I completely forgot how family relations work. Dana and Dinah aren't Cera's cousins, the children of a sibling of her dad. They're her niece and nephew, meaning they're the children of one of Cera's siblings. Her dad is their grandpa.

So this is really weird. The first and second movie showed Cera having multiple siblings, either around the same age as her or younger. But since movie 3, her siblings have completely disappeared and the narrative has treated Cera like she's an only child. Now 6 has a mysterious unseen older sibling of Cera's who dropped their kids off for Cera to watch. I hope this movie eventually has some explanation for what's going on here.

Dana and Dinah reach a ravine with some huge stone pillars.

They start to jump across the pillars, just like with the bubbles but with much higher stakes. Dinah almost falls, but she pulls herself up and they make it across.

The Gang keep following, and Cera laments how scared and tired they must be. Smash cut to them playing leap-frog in a field, giggling non-stop. They pass by just as a Sharptooth walks over and sniffs the ground.

You can actually see them on the far right, there. Also wait, I thought Saurus Rock was supposed to still be in the Great Valley? Why is there a Sharptooth here, on the path to Saurus Rock?

The Sharptooth sniffs and follows them, but they obliviously leap-frog through a hole in a tree and the Sharptooth gets its head stuck in it. Hilarious. /sarcasm

The Gang reach the rocky valley and Ducky and Littlefoot hop across with no issue. Cera hesitates, but once she starts she finds it kinda fun and gets across. Spike is too scared to go, and Petrie encourages him to just not look down.

Oh 'cmon, we just did this last movie! 5 had a scene very much like this, where the gang had to cross a ravine on a log. They're just switching Cera and Spike's roles, for some reason. In 5, Cera was telling herself not to look down and Petrie scared her, while Spike strutted across with confidence. Now Cera has fun and Spike is scared, and Petrie is now supportive instead of troll-y.

And frankly, the scene was stupid in 5, too, since they've crossed ravines on logs multiple times before in this franchise with no issues from anyone. It's just obvious padding for time.

Anyway, Spike is scared until he sees something and crosses with quickness. It's a fern on the other side to eat. After Spike crosses, all the stone pillars collapse. Guess we won't be going back that way.

The Gang continues on and come to an area with huge trees. Cera insists her dad could get the tree stars on the top by knocking one down, and she demonstrates by headbutting a tree, bouncing off with no effect. But that tree feels odd, and looks odd, and sounds odd... sounds? It's the Sharptooth embedded in the tree from earlier! It rips out and chases the kids as they scream in terror. The Gang escape by climbing between two big trees next to each other, blocking off the Sharptooth.

On the other side of the big tree forest, Littlefoot gasps as he realizes they're at Saurus Rock.

Littlefoot: "Saurus Rock DOES look like Doc!"

Cera: "Sorta."

Petrie: "Maybe."

Ducky: "A little."

Then Cera notices the twins, on top of Saurus Rock. They're happy to see "Cerey" and are very "uppie", and Ducky translates that means they're high up. They start rolling around near the edge, and the Gang start climbing to save them. Cera's standing on one of the tooth spikes around its neck when the twins fall off, land on her, and knock the tooth spike down. It lands on the ground and crumbles.

The Gang walk back through the big tree forest. Dana and Dinah are apologetic, but Cera is surprisingly understanding, until she shifts to blaming Littlefoot! He's the one who gave them the idea. Dana and Dinah point out (with Ducky's translation) that Cera is the one who told them to get lost, and Cera retorts that she's not saving them the next time this happens.

Cera: "And not a word about this to Grandpa Threehorn."

Dana and Dinah: "Uh-uh. No!"

Cera: "'Cause you don't wanna see Grandpa Threehorn when he’s mad! When Grandpa Threehorn gets mad, it’s even scarier than... than-"

Littlefoot: "A Sharptooth!"

Cera: "...no, I think a Sharptooth's a little bit scarier. Maybe."

Ducky: "No, no, Cera! R-really, behind you!"

Cera: "Oh, come on. Don’t try that old gag on me!"

Especially since WE DID THIS OLD GAG ALREADY! LAST MOVIE! Littlefoot was mad at the idea of someone eating the last Tree Star and the Sharptooth was behind him and he thought the others were scared of him until he realized. C'mon movie, I'm really trying to give you a chance! It doesn't even make sense for Cera to be skeptical, they were JUST running from this same Sharptooth in this SAME area two scenes ago!

Cera gets the idea when it drools on her, and the kids start running. Cera leads the kids into a log.

Ducky: "Cera, it is a good thing that Sharptooth are not very smart!"

Really, Ducky? Really? You're saying that after LAST movie? When we were friends with Chomper and befriended his parents?! I'm sorry I keep bringing up 5, but things keep happening in 6 that remind me of it! It's almost like the yearly release schedule of these movies doesn't give the script-writers a lot of time to iron out continuity, or something!

The kids keep yapping in the log, and the Sharptooth hears them. It peers an eye down into a knothole at the same time Ducky pokes her head out.

I guess this scare is supposed to be instant karma for Ducky calling the Sharptooth stupid, but why? Why did Ducky need instant karma? Why did she express such an opinion in the first place?

Whatever, the Sharptooth picks up the log with its mouth and throws it. It lands perfectly between the two ledges of the ravine that used to have big stone pillars. One-by-one, the kids squeeze out of a hole in the log and cross. Ducky is nervous, and Petrie reassures her.

Petrie: "No worry! You Swimmer, right?"

Ducky: "Mm-hm."

Petrie: "If you fall, there a skinny little river waaaay down there that you might land in! Maybe.

Ducky (sarcastic): "Oh, thank you. I feel SOOOO much better now!"

This is a funny joke, I like Petrie being more troll-y, but again, it contrasts a previous film. The action climax of 4 hinged on Ducky falling from a MUCH shorter height into a river, and the surface tension knocked her out. That was a big dramatic moment that Petrie was personally responsible for, so the subject and tone of this joke feels off.

Spike gets stuck in the log as the Sharptooth approaches! Littlefoot and Petrie are just barely able to pull him free when the Sharptooth bites down! The Sharptooth bites again and the log breaks, sending it plummeting into the ravine.

The kids make it back, and Littlefoot reassures Cera that her dad will never know the twins ran away. Cera's dad overheard that, and demands an explanation. Cera insists they didn't go far, and the twins babble something that Ducky (unhelpfully) translates as them going to Saurus Rock.

Cera's dad: "SAURUS ROCK?! Cera, it was your duty to watch the twins! And you failed."

Cera: "Yes, daddy."

Cera's dad: "I am very disappointed in you! Now, you march yourself right home! Apparently, you still need to be watched yourself. Losing the twins, I never heard of such a thing! It's absurd!"

Honestly, he's being too harsh here, but he's not wrong. Littlefoot laments his big mouth (Ducky should be saying the same thing for translating), but Petrie reassures him that it was just bad luck. Ducky calls back to Grandpa's words. Since they broke Saurus Rock, they had bad luck, which could spread to the Great Valley, then the dinosaur world, then the whole universe!

Littlefoot has a nightmare about him destroying Saurus Rock. He asks his Grandpa, who reiterates that the legend goes that Saurus rock breaking means bad luck. The next day, Littlefoot goes to Petrie with his theory. Petrie doesn't believe it, but Ducky and Spike show up, with Ducky's beak and Spike's tail wrapped with leaves because they got them stuck in a hive of buzzing stingers. Petrie brushes it off, then falls into a tree and gets chased by a swarm of bees. Littlefoot leads into song 2 of the movie, Bad Luck.

It's pretty mediocre. The subtextual message the song is conveying to me is that the kids are over-reacting and completely imagining it, considering the vast majority of "bad luck" events in the song are self-inflicted. But by the standards of "kids overreacting and imagining negative thing" songs, Bad Luck is completely outclassed by Big Water, which had a lot more interesting visuals with the imagination fish.

And if that's NOT the subtext of the song, it's even worse, they could have shown actual instances of over-the-top and entertaining bad luck, not just for The Gang, but the rest of the Great Valley.

I do like Spike scatting, that's a great way to incorporate the mute kid into the songs, I wish every song did that. And I like the flow. But the lyrics have a pretty basic rhyme scheme, and the song doesn't really go anywhere, it just repeats the same idea over and over.

After the song, the twins show up and babble something, which Ducky translates as "Cera's dad wants her home right now". Cera walks away, but she trips over the twins and rolls into a flowerbed. Littlefoot takes that as proof.

Back to the adults, we see why Cera's dad called her over. A watering hole is mysteriously all dried up and the adults are discussing it. Grandpa points out that there's no need to panic, there are plenty of other places to drink, but Cera's dad retorts that this one was the coolest and clearest. One of the adults says it's bad luck, and Littlefoot feels bad about it before he notices Doc watching from a distance.

Littlefoot goes to Doc and asks what to do about bad luck. Doc says you can either fix the problem or move on.

Littlefoot: "Oh. What if- what if you don't want to move on?"

Doc: "Then you're asking the wrong Longneck, kid. I'm a loner. That's the way I've always lived. This valley's nice, but there are others just as nice out there somewhere. I've always done it my way, moving on, looking for someplace a little better."

Littlefoot: "Don't you ever get lonesome?"

Doc: "Sometimes. Sometimes I feel a bit crowded too. My footsteps were planted on the wandering trail long ago. I'm too old to change now."

Doc's a shameless cowboy stereotype, but the execution on him is pretty good. He's cool, but tired and old. His character design helps, he looks just as old as Grandpa. Speaking of Grandpa, he's watching this scene in contemplation (he really does follow Littlefoot around to make sure he stays out of trouble, doesn't he? Fair). I also like Doc mentioning there are other places just as nice as the Great Valley. 4 implied something similar, with the Land of Mists. It helps temper the Great Valley Exceptionalism we hear all the time from the narrator and adult dinosaurs living here.

The Gang are back to playing when a sudden storm emerges. The adults call their names and Cera goes back for the twins, making The Gang all separated. The storm is so powerful that a tornado strikes up, and Grandpa and Littlefoot are yelling for each other. Close together but the rain and wind is so powerful they can't see or hear each other.

Cera gets the twins back to their grandpa, who says he's proud of her. The tornado rushes forward and Littlefoot is caught in it. Doc curls up around him to protect him from the wind. Then, just as suddenly as it came, the storm leaves. Doc and Littlefoot emerge from a pile of trees, and Littlefoot thanks Doc for saving him again, but he brushes it off, again.

Everyone starts cleaning up the debris and rubble, and Cera's dad proposes a theory:

Cera's dad: "Mighty strange the way things have been happening lately. Take this storm, for instance."

Grandpa: "We've had whirling winds before, they're just part of the circle of life."

Cera's dad: "I know, but it seems to me that we've suffered more than our share of misfortunes since a certain stranger came to the Valley."

The other adults are quick to accept this theory and scapegoat Doc as the bringer of bad luck. Littlefoot runs in to insist that Doc is the greatest Longneck who ever lived (mildly offending his own grandparents). Cera's dad claims he's not saying anything bad about Doc's character, just that he's bad luck, but Littlefoot insists he didn't bring the bad luck, and Cera's dad relents.

Littlefoot rejoins the gang and Cera takes her dad's side that Doc brought the bad luck. Littlefoot reminds her it was their own doing (technically, it was the twins and Cera's fault, specifically).

Cera: "Look, I never liked the guy much, okay? And I'm not even sure I believe in this bad luck stuff. But if the grownups wanna blame him, why not let 'em?"

Littlefoot: "'Cause it's not fair! They're gonna end up chasing him away and... I don’t want him to go."

Cera: "Well, there’s nothing you can do about it anyway."

Littlefoot: "Yes, there is! I can fix it!"

With that, Littlefoot storms off to take Doc's advice and fix the problem. The others glare at Cera. Cera reveals the reason she's taking her dad's side is because he's back to being proud of her, so she can't tell him now and ruin it. Cera angrily throws a log and it hits a huge pile of sticks that fall onto The Gang. The Gang decide that the bad luck must be real, and therefore they caused it, and therefore they have to fix it.

Meanwhile, Littlefoot's talking to himself and pretty quickly transitions into song 3 of the movie: On Your Own.

Eh. It's okay. It kinda ignores that Littlefoot has been on his own before and he was miserable, right after his mom died in the first movie (and it kinda prompts the comparison with that shadow shot).

The second half where Littlefoot goes from cheerful to sad is expected and not really prompted by much. I thought the shadow was the Sharptooth at first (yeah, it fell down a ravine, so did the one in the first movie, and it survived) but no, it was just some clouds. And the lyrics overall are really basic.

The part where he's imagining his friends superimposed on rocks is hilariously terrible, though. The rocks aren't even close and the drawings of The Gang... well Cera and Spike look okay, but Petrie and Ducky are so off that it's a little offensive that's how Littlefoot imagines them.

The rest of The Gang are looking for Littlefoot and discuss to figure out where Littlefoot went. Wait, it took them until NOW to realize that Littlefoot was talking about fixing Saurus Rock?! That wasn't obvious?! They tell the twins to stay behind, while they go.

Littlefoot goes to the ravine, his goal is to rip out a tooth from the Sharptooth and replace the one that fell out of Saurus Rock.

Meanwhile, Doc tells Littlefoot's grandpa that he's going to leave. He was already planning to leave soon anyway, and he wants to head out before things get hairy for him. After he walks away, The Gang runs up to Grandpa and he asks where Littlefoot is.

Back with Littlefoot, he's climbed down the ravine and comments that the Sharptooth looks and smells dead, so he shouldn't be afraid. I will say, that's something I appreciate about this franchise. At least so far, it's not unwilling to acknowledge the concept of death. Also, the Sharptooth isn't dead, its eye opens while Littlefoot leaves to look for a stick. Dinosaurs are Built Different.

Grandpa is on the way to Saurus Rock with The Gang. The old Longneck is having trouble climbing the rocky cliffs on the pathway there, and he admits that he's never seen Saurus Rock before, those were just stories his own grandfather told him (which FINALLY explains how they knew about the Great Valley in the first movie).

Littlefoot props the Sharptooth's mouth open with a stick and tries headbutting a tooth out. It's tiring work, but at least there's a breeze.

Littlefoot: "Wait, a second. I'm inside a dead Sharptooth. Why would there be a breeze? Unless, it's breathing. But if it's breathing, that means... IT'S ALIIIIIIVE!"

You know, the characters seem a bit slower on the uptake in this movie than they were in previous films. But I do think the audio quality is better. The characters have more of a decibel range, they're actually whispering and yelling, instead of just talking louder or quieter.

The Sharptooth stands up and Littlefoot manages to jump out of its mouth before it bites down on the stick. He runs away through some rocks, and the Sharptooth starts headbutting the rocks to carve away at them. On the other side of the rocks, Littlefoot sees...

ANOTHER SHARPTOOTH! Two of them!

He keeps running and sees the heroic shadow of an adult Longneck. He thinks it's Doc until he realizes it's Grandpa, who tells him to run. Grandpa tail-whips the new Sharptooth in the face, launching it into a rock. Littlefoot reunites with The Gang and they cheer on Grandpa as he grabs the Sharptooth's neck with his tail and headbutts it down again (badass!). The other Sharptooth returns and distracts Grandpa enough for the downed one to get in a kick to the side.

Littlefoot runs in to help, but then a tail lashes out and grabs the yellow Sharptooth by the leg, tripping him.

It's Doc! It's now a 2-v-2.

The green Sharptooth turns toward Doc, but Grandpa gets up and slams it from behind with a huge swinging headbutt!

Both Sharpteeth get up and charge in, but Doc and Grandpa sidestep and the Sharpteeth headbutt a stone pillar together!

Grandpa: "It's a good thing Sharpteeth aren't very smart!"

Really? That's the badass one-liner we're going with? Blatant racism, calling back to Ducky's earlier line? Wow. You know... I guess it's in-line with the Western style of this movie...

Grandpa and Doc use their tails to grab the stone pillar together and pull it down, collapsing it and burying both Sharpteeth in a massive pile of rocks. The kids celebrate and a Sharptooth tooth lands next to them, which startles them briefly.

Littlefoot tells Doc not to leave, but it's time he hits that ol' dusty trail. Too much talking. Littlefoot tells him that they might need a hero, and Doc says he already got a hero, referring to Grandpa. After Grandpa helps the kids out of the ravine, they put the new Sharptooth tooth in place of the old stone one on Saurus Rock.

It's a little... small. Grandpa doesn't think that bad luck was actually caused by this, but it's reassuring to Littlefoot to try. Littlefoot thanks Grandpa for being his hero.

The epilogue is Cera dramatically telling a story to a bunch of little kids, including the twins (in hindsight, I'm so glad they didn't tag along to add artificial drama to the finale).

Petrie and Ducky help out with the scare chord, and then Littlefoot takes over when it comes to the hero moment. It's basically the exact same as Grandpa's Lone Dinosaur story, except replacing the Lone Dinosaur with the Grey Dinosaur, which is Grandpa himself.

Grandpa (narrating): "And so, another myth was born. It would change with each retelling. And even now, who knows where this one will end?"

Gotta leave it open-ended for more sequels!

This... was not as good as the previous films. In fact, this is easily my least favorite Land Before Time movie so far. By a wide margin, actually!

For a movie titled "The Secret of Saurus Rock", this movie sure was cagey about revealing any of its secrets, wasn't it? It was ambiguous on whether Doc was really the Lone Dinosaur and it was ambiguous on whether the bad luck from damaging Saurus Rock was real or not. That makes it hard to really criticize either of those plot points from either of their angles, which just makes it all the more frustrating.

I was really hoping for some big revelatory moment where Doc is like "yeah, I saved those people, but I don't like they made such a big deal out of it, even going so far as to build that statue in my honor, it freaks me out" or something like that, but nope. It's just left up to mystery, which annoys me. And because of that, the interesting theme I thought they were implying in the song Legend of the Lone Dinosaur is completely absent, souring my opinion of that song.

Speaking of songs, this movie has the weakest line-up of songs in the whole franchise. Legend of the Lone Dinosaur is the best one, but it's only okay, especially with the lack of any interesting thematic work. Bad Luck sucks, the ultimate ambiguity of whether the bad luck is real or not kneecaps what is otherwise just a mediocre song anyway. And On Your Own has a good concept but poor execution.

I do like that it kept the racism theme, though it ultimately barely utilized it. The thematic work in this movie is the weakest it's ever been. Littlefoot has an arc about appreciating his family instead of hero-worshiping a stranger, Cera learns responsibility looking after the twins, Cera's dad distrusts Doc for being an outsider, and Littlefoot's grandpa gets to live out his hero fantasies from when he was a kid. None of those themes gel with each other, and they're all underbaked. And the casual anti-Sharptooth racism REALLY feels uncomfortable, especially for the direct follow-up film to The Mysterious Island.

Before watching this, I heard this movie had the best fights in the franchise, but they're just okay. Better than in 4, for sure. The myth fight is good, but the final battle is too short, Doc does one attack before the rock pillar finisher. The fights are definitely nowhere near as good as in 1 with mom vs Sharptooth and The Gang vs Sharptooth, the double raid boss in 2 of The Gang and their parents vs Chomper's parents, or the ridiculous marathon battle in 3 of everyone vs the Velociraptor terminators. I'd say the fights here are about on-par with the triple Sharptooth fight in 5. There's no blood, but the tooth kinda makes up for that.

The story is WAAAAAY too cliche and referential for its own good. That's a problem I also had with 4, but at least 4 had really entertaining villains in Ichy and Dil. The Sharpteeth in this movie are nothing, personality-wise. Doc is good, but he can't carry the film by himself! Doc doesn't even get a song! That's crazy, Kris Kristofferson was a huge country music singer, not giving Doc a song is a MASSIVE missed opportunity!

On another note, Movie 6 is too late to be introducing a new big landmark in the Great Valley like Saurus Rock. Movies 2 and 3 were all about fleshing out the Great Valley and its various locations and landmarks. There's a reason 4 and 5 explored other locations, the Land of Mist and Mysterious Island. But 6 introduces like four huge brand new locations in the Great Valley, and that's too many. Especially since we've had a few aerial views of the Great Valley before, and we didn't see anything like the landmarks in this film. It just feels like they're making shit up, there's no continuity.

Dana and Dinah are almost as bad as Ozzy and Strut. Not quite as shamelessly derivative, but easily just as annoying. The only reason they're not as bad is they don't get as much screentime, and they're not in the climax. Also, their relation to Cera really bothers me, we never see their parents or get an explanation for why Cera has suddenly been saddled with taking care of them.

There are a couple animation errors where Littlefoot's grandpa is drawn with his grandma's design, and vice-versa, but the errors are not as bad as in 5. That said, the animation itself is a small step down.

The pacing isn't too bad, this doesn't have the "it takes until halfway to get in gear" problem the other sequels had. The halfway point of the movie is when they break Saurus Rock, but that doesn't significantly affect how interesting the plot is.

Pros: The pacing is okay. The fights are decent. Doc is good. Cera's arc is interesting on paper. The microphone quality was good (really stretching for something nice to say here).

Cons: The themes and subplots are all over the place and really disconnected from each other. The story is cliche. Doc doesn't get a song. The songs are really weak. The twins are really annoying. The characters are dumb. The Doc and Saurus Rock story ambiguity was frustrating. The animation is bad. The anti-Sharptooth racism sucked. The CONSTANT repetition of bits from 1 and 5 got REALLY annoying. The fact that it was Autumn barely mattered!

Score: Early in the review, I was thinking a 6/10, then it dropped to a 5/10, then I landed on a 4/10. While writing up my overall thoughts here, however, I think I talked myself into giving this movie a 2/10.

Everything good I can say comes with a caveat, and there's a LOT that just rubbed me the wrong way or I outright hated. Doc himself is good, he's like a 7/10 character, but even a hero can't save this movie.

The Land Before Time: 8/10 (hypothetical uncut version: 9/10)

The Great Valley Adventure: 8/10

The Time of the Great Giving: 7/10

Journey Through The Mists: 7/10

The Mysterious Island: 9/10

The Secret of Saurus Rock: 2/10

[imustbenuts]

nuts reading trigun in japanese 6 - kaite's foreshadowing. plant synchronization's downside

remember in my part 3 and 5 i was talking about hierarchy? surprisingly, it continues past chapter 8 with kaite. and wolfwood. triangulating nyoom

(to be honest... ive been doing these read and analysis completely blind in a 1st JP read through. so its possible ill find new nuances, get things wrong as the context shifts and changes, so my stuff looks like its scattered all over the place. sorry about that.)

i think ill start explaining names and meanings. kaite's name in japanese is kaito. カイト. this can be a homonym with i think 怪盗 (kaitou) in this case, which means phantom thief. for trying to help Neon with stealing loot from the Sand Steamer.

left bubble next to neon: 道案内は的確だったかね！？ I trust your guide has been giving you clear instructions?

^the headaches with manga translations has always been to keep texts short and reasonable for flow and readability, so these simplifications can and sometimes must happen.

but, add dakutens, the " on 2 of those カイト katakanas and suddenly, kaito turns into. ガイド gaido. Guide.

so Kaite has been playing as a guide to lead vash to his death at the hands of Neon. this page is such a fucking whammy with the wordplay going on. if you just read this in japanese theres a moment of "oh shit, no way, Kaite, vash just told you to stop betraying people! what the hell!"

yet theres a level of trust going on already, so its not as bad as it seems

nightow really likes his worldplay. i really like this page.

kaite redeems himself by later charging into the boiler room and helps turn the valve to stop the sand steamer from running off cliff and killing everyone on board....

hm. a guide. and those sequences

we sure have a lot of guides here. one who appears in the manga later with a kansai dialect. and another in TriStamp, where he is younger than he appears.

when i spoke about hierarchy and the fact that vash is over 150, i was also kind of hinting that all of current humanity are akin to children in the system of JP hierarchy. that takes on extra meaning with a little change of context and language

wolfwood is filling in the shoes of kaito here in tristamp. and within trimax, kaito foreshadows him. incredible.

theres actually more going on with wolfwood and certain design/changes choices i wanna talk about with tristamp but ill save it for another day. maybe when i run into him in this read later

Plant Synchronization downside.

....so theres a bad downside to vash synchronizing with the plant that i didn't catch. which also answers what the fuck was going on in tristamp when that version of him hits the ground

nightow mentions this in an interview, link here posted and transcribed by xoxo-otome (thank you!) that he likes action flicks and has incorporated a lot of action into his work. and its true. there is so much action in the form of sound effects.

reading through the entire manga and paying attention to the sfx peppered around offers a lot more context to whats happening in half of the panels that seemingly doesnt make sense

like this one where the top panel has "DADADADADA" sfx. so they're stomping down the corridor with their guns crossed and facing each other. the "GO OH" in the bottom panel emphasizes the sudden burst into open air. unfortunately, anyone who values their life and sanity in this economy will not want to translate trigun's sfxs 100%.

i should have paid more attention when reading trigun in english. but i didn't so here i am. in the trigunbookclub tag now doing this.

why is it important? here. this. below. when vash does his plant thing with his sister:

see those heart panels? i tried searching real quick but nobody seems to have pointed this out. i havent seen this in EN fanfics. maybe i missed it. maybe im stupid:

thats Dokun, the sound effect of a heart thumping. as vash synchronizes, the heart panels with the same sound effect appear, but they gradually split apart further with ellipses "..." to signify his heart beat slowing down. and down. and down....

Dokun, do kun, do... kun....

then the wings comes out. and the panel below it:

sfx: PIIIIIIIIIII

breathes. a FLAT LINE.

aaaaaaAA?!

何かなんだかわかりません I'm not sure what's going on. とにかくプラントの動きは一切止まっています But the Plant's movement has completely stopped. 同時に男にも呼吸　心音ともに停止してます It's the same with that man. His breathing and heartbeat sounds like it's stopped with the plant too.

AAAAA?!!?! the も means vash is in the same state as the plant?

i.... um. um.,, ANYWAY-

AAAAAAAAAAAA?! HUH?! HUH??? HUH?!

is THIS why he has a metal grate over his heart? something happened and he an an operation on his heart???? by some engineer maybe? what? huh? am i reading this wrong? what? wait, hello? HEY!!!

what the fuck. okAY--?!

and then he just. pretends like nothing's happened. doesnt tell kaito anything. and he leaves the Sand Steamer.

and im going to have to sleep bc its 5 am now and pretend like i didnt just realize something this big right in front of my eyes during the first read.

[slightweasel]

Thanks to @smugrobotics for tagging me!

rules: drop a mid-story line from 10 of your fics (if you don’t have 10, no worries) and tag 10 people

(I don't have a ton of HP fics, so this will be mostly HP over 5k followed by some of my more recent pre-HP-era stuff over 5k)

Transformations (HP, drarry)

There, along a blank stretch of wall, he gathered his concentration and thought: I need to see what Malfoy's been doing inside you. This sounded so much filthier inside his head than it had in sixth year that he fumbled the rest, halting awkwardly halfway through his second pass. He closed his eyes tightly and shook himself. Took in a deep, bracing breath, and began again. I need to see what Malfoy's been doing inside you. He refused to change the wording. There was nothing wrong with it, it didn't need to be changed. I need to see what Malfoy's been doing inside you, I need to see what Malfoy's been doing inside you...

The Man Who Forgot (HP, drarry)

"You were standing there." Draco made as if to raise his hands, then lowered them again. "And I was standing here..." "And then what?" Draco didn't say anything, for just long enough that Harry wondered if he was meant to guess. The snow picked up, in those few moments, a pointless effort; it wasn't cold enough that any of it would stick to anything but grass, and that only for a little while. At last, Draco said, "You wouldn't understand."

The Man Who Got His Mind Healed (HP, drarry)

"You're an arsehole," Harry said, managing not to grin but not quite managing not to snort. "And a dick." "You said you wanted an easy one," Draco said, still snickering. "It doesn't get much easier than that, does it? You almost even said what you were thinking out loud. You'll barely have to do more than transcribe it. Amazing, right?" "A complete cock, in fact," Harry went on. "I've always known it. Also, you're fired. As my memory-chooser," he added, just in case 'fired' was shelved anywhere next to 'divorce' inside Draco's personal, kind of weird vocabulary shelf.

The Man Who Lived to Reproduce (HP, drarry)

He swung his leg over the motorbike. Once he was sitting, Draco got on behind him. Then Draco's arms were around his middle, his chin resting on Harry's shoulder. His breath was hot against the side of Harry's face as he said, "Ready?" Harry considered. Glancing back at Jack, asleep in his sidecar, which had about eighteen charms on it to keep him secure and comfortable for the ride. Not glancing back at Draco in case of colliding heads, but feeling him, nonetheless: the tightness of his arms and what had been the roundness of him, now more of a squishiness pressed against Harry's back.  Harry was filled with something, a swelling tenderness in his chest and a rising softness behind his eyes. He was filled with something else, too, which he had felt keenly before, but never this fiercely or this sharply: This was his family, depending on him to get them home safe. Depending on him for that, and for more than that. They were his to take care of, his to love.

No One Ever Told Me (HP, drarry)

"What do you mean, what am I talking about? Have you suddenly forgotten all about putting your cock in my arse?" "No!" Harry said. "I, just--contraceptive charms? You're a man. And I'm a man." "...And?" "Men can't," Harry said, feeling like an insane person trying to explain a very basic fact to another insane person, and not quite sure which of them had actually gone round the bend, "get...look. You're a man, so you can't get pregnant. I'm a man, so I can get people pregnant. Just...not other men. Men like you are. With man bits. Which we have both got."

Try (HP, Dudley/Harry)

"Oh. I'm sorry." In probably the weirdest thing that had happened all day, or maybe ever, Harry looked like he actually was. "Don't be sorry," said Dudley. "It's nothing compared to what they--what you--it's nothing much. Compared to that." He wasn't about to admit how much he really did care, sometimes. Or how confusing it was to sometimes wish so terribly that he could see them around Christmastime, when even when they'd been speaking to him it had been hard to see them without thinking about all the ways they were awful. They'd been the worst to Harry, but the further Dudley was from it, the clearer he could see that they'd done plenty to him, too. He wasn't really sure how mad he should be about it, or if he was even allowed to be mad for himself--and it wasn't that he didn't care, that they weren't talking to him, but this way was easier. At least, it was most of the time.

The Song Remembered (Narnia/MCU crossover, Bucky/Loki)

"I don't think they have those in Narnia," Bucky said, beginning to be well and truly annoyed now. "Anyway, I thought you said you and Thor had killed thousands of them." "It was cold and dark enough, there at the end of our march; if there are Frost Giants in this realm at all, then surely they must be in Narnia now." There was no telling whether Loki actually believed this, or if he was just trying so hard to sell it to Bucky that neither of them would be completely sure later whether he'd believed it or not. "They have horrifying red eyes, and hands so cold the slightest touch gives a man frostbite (imagine what a blow would do!). They stand a hundred feet tall--" "Pretty sure someone would have noticed that. We're in the mountains, remember?" Bucky said, thinking of how high the castle stood, and of the watchtowers built in around it--and refusing to think about what it meant for Loki to be that white around the eyes. "I suppose the small ones might only be twenty feet tall," said Loki stiffly. "Or so."

Nobody Knows (MCU, Bucky/Loki)

"You wouldn't be," Loki muttered, and somehow the combination of Bucky's certain relief at this moment and his less certain relief from before combined to make Loki take an action he hadn't intended to even a moment before: He took hold of Bucky's chin, and turned his head to kiss him. Lightly, momentarily, an impulse he immediately regretted and made to correct. But before he could pull back, Bucky reached for him, his metal hand cool on Loki's thigh and his flesh hand warm on the back of Loki's neck, fingers weaving through his hair. The kiss deepened. Loki was for the ten thousandth time in his life swept along the unintended consequences to some impulsive action.

to thine own self (Loki show, Sylvie/Loki)

The way he said it; there was something in the way he said it. Sylvie looked harder, strained to listen. Now, she heard the rumbling, millions upon millions of gallons of water plummeting off an endless edge, what couldn't have been more than a mile from where they stood. Beyond the mountain peaks she thought she saw a glint of something, light glancing off the golden spires she was suddenly certain were there. "You idiot," she said, rounding on him as something within her did an unpleasant twist. "What makes you think he won't be able to find us on Asgard?"

Anew (MCU, Loki/Valkyrie)

"Seems more like you're about to pop out a Jotun," Val said. Booze made it easier not to be careful. Not that she would have been anyway. Everyone thought they had to be, with Loki, but that had never been something she was going to bother with. Even less now. It was just too bad kicking his ass wasn't looking like an option. She'd been looking forward to that. "What's with that, anyway? Have you been one this whole time?" "--Did you even watch my play?" "Yeah. But I thought all that stuff was a metaphor. Or something." "It was not," Loki said coolly, "a metaphor."

Tagging: @snickfic, @pragnificent, @byjovewhataspend, @sweatersinthesummer, @twnkwlf-writes, @smehur, @starquestingfordrarry, @yellowfork, @tripably, @faiell

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

A letter to John's cousin Leila, dated January 1979

Thank you to @javelinbk's post for bringin my attention to this letter :)

I'm sure I made some mistakes in transcribing this, so if someone can figure out the bits I'm unsure about I'd be happy to edit them in! (EDIT: thank you to @ohblahdo and @the-bluebird-you-need for much needed corrections!) I also tried to keep it as close to his actual writing as possible but sometimes I can't tell if he misspellt things or if it's just hard to read. I bolded what he underlined.

FULL TRANSCRIPTION:

Dear Leila,

it's snowing;– outside the window in Central Park – I can see the Plaza Hotel across the trees – it's beautiful. I'm exhausted (still) after Xmas/New Year – they even have a thing called Thanksgiving a few weeks before Xmas (by the way I'm a Pagan – a zen Pagan to be precise – but that's another story!)

It looks a[s] if we got our wires crossed on the 'newspaper story' – ie. Mimi (who else!) told me you were upset about something I said (supposed to have said) in the newspaper about myself – anyway enough of that – it's obviously nothing – so let's forget that which we can't remember anyway!

I don't know why you were surprised by what I wrote you about your 'Russian Affair' – i thought I'd make it clear to you that the words were from a TAROT CARD READER – ie: I told him your story/birthdate etc – the words came through him – I just wrote down his 'prediction' (whatever) re:your situation! See? – so don't shoot the bearer of news!!

Sean is a beautiful wise 3 yr old (born Oct 9! – in case you didn't know) – what a handfull [sic] one is – I don't know how you manage all yours – well done! The fact that they have all their limbs + faculties is an accomplishment in itself!

Sounds like a good idea about giving yourself some time to 'play'! – 8 days doesn't sound like you're turned Gypsy 'tho'! – by the way –

– You better give us a fair warning if you're seeing [?] about 'popping over' here – ie: make sure I'm here – eg. tomorrow we leave (Yoko + me) for ..... Cairo, Egypt (ring a bell?!) – via Geneva – on a business trip – for about a week – I wish we could dig up some of your fathers relatives – do you know anyone there? an Uncle/Aunt?

– I'll send you a postcard –

I'm 40 next year – I hope life begins – ie. I'd like a little less 'trouble' and more – what? I don't know – I sent Stan [Leila's brother, John's cousin] a Xmas card (up north) – I don't know what it is with him – is he resentfull [sic] of me because I'm not dumb or what?! I guess he was always jealous of you – anyway I still think it's pretty mean of him – I heard a lot from him when he was piss poor – I shouldn't be surprised after all the bastards I've met these last 40 yrs or so

– if your [sic] ever in NRH Wales – look [?] up Julian – he's in Ruthin School – poor sod –

I though of you a lot this Xmas – the cottage – the record player – 'good ship lollipop' – 'I found my love on TREASURE ISLAND' – the OWL(s)? the shadows on the ceiling as the cars went by at night – putting up the paper-chains – even Norman turns into Santa Klaus in my memory! (muttering in the chair by the fire)

enough of that too!

Lots of love, to all of you, I'm sure we'll see each other v. soon – somewhere or other – I'm almost scared to go to England, 'cos I know it would be the last time I saw Mimi – I'm a coward about goodbyes...

Have a good year Keep healthy John 8^) xxx

Love from Sean & Yoko xx