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thecreaturecodex · 3 years

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Slaad Lord, Bazim-Gorag

Art by Greg Staples, © Wizards of the Coast.

[Commissioned by @tar-baphon. Dungeon 101 was the first issue of Dungeon Magazine I ever got, and I was instantly taken with Bazim-Gorag. I made him the Bonus Boss of a dungeon I ran my players through in my Prehistoric Campaign (set in a fantasy early Cretaceous, where the world was caught in a cold war between kobolds and troglodytes). The party never fought him, but did kill his lieutenants and decimated his organization.

Bazim-Gorag appears to be Richard Baker’s baby. Baker wrote “Prison of the Firebringer”, his first appearance, for Dungeon Magazine 101, then imported him into hardcovers with the Forgotten Realms book Champions of Ruin. In 4th Edition, during that era’s Forgotten Realms shattering Spellplague (which I’ve talked about how much I hated before), Bazim-Gorag managed to escape captivity and is now a Big Deal Primordial, although he never got a stat-block, only name dropped multiple times.

This version of Bazim-Gorag follows the 4e continuity, albeit loosely. Bazim-Gorag is out, and wants revenge. I figure I already have enough Sealed Evil In A Can type big bad monsters, so I wanted him to be out and active in the world. This is also my first slaad lord! My vision for the slaadi lords is that they’re CRs 21-25, like nascent demon lords or the like. Weaker than protean lords, but still capable of granting spells. They’re also still aberrations, like my other slaadi. Great Old Ones can grant spells and they have a wide variety of types, so I’ve got some precedent. My version of slaadi is all about their adaptability anyway--why shouldn’t they adapt to worship by becoming quasi-divine?]

Slaad Lord, Bazim-Gorag CR 21 CE Aberration (slaad) Standing twice as tall as a man, this orange, rough-skinned humanoid has two fanged, toad-like heads. It clutches a glaive in its muscular hands, and an aura of palpable heat surrounds it.

Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer, Lord of Pandemonium CE male slaad lord of flame, ruin and scorched earth tactics Domains Chaos, Evil, Fire, War Subdomains Ash, Blood, Entropy, Slaad* Worshipers generals, pyromaniacs, slaadi Minions evil giants, iron golems, pyrohydras Unholy Symbol a stone spire wreathed in flames Favored Weapon glaive Obedience temper your weapons in fire, chanting litanies in reflection of those you have slain. If you use natural weapons, place them in the fire, even for a moment. You may heal the burns when you are finished, and this rite still qualifies as your obedience if you are immune or resistant to fire. Gain a +4 profane bonus to saves against fire effects. Boons 1: scorching ray 2/day; 2: fire shield 2/day; 3: fire seeds 2/day *new subdomain, see below

Bazim-Gorag is the Firebringer, patron of pyrrhic victories and collateral damage. His worshipers do not care how many innocents die by fire or how far the blazes spread—only that the target is eliminated and purged through cleansing flames. Only the mad, desperate or callous dare call on the Lord of Pandemonium to help them win their battles. An archmage trapped him on a Material world, dying in battle before allowing the Firebringer free. Bazim-Gorag was able to escape after humiliating centuries and reclaim his throne in the Maelstrom. Now his wrath has a focus, and Bazim-Gorag hunts the planes, searching for powerful conjurers and other arcane spellcasters to slay for vicarious revenge.

Bazim-Gorag’s battle strategies are playful at times. He tailors his tactics to how he perceives the power levels of his foes, using minor spells or fighting in a humanoid form if he sees his enemies as weak. If they prove durable, of if they display powerful arcane magic, Bazim-Gorag’s tactics shift to overwhelming force. He prefers to close with melee spellcasters and keeps back-up at bay with his immense glaive. His fire spells burn so hot that he can strip through most abjurations with ease, and those he cannot he dispels. Due to his previous brush with captivity, Bazim-Gorag is quicker to flee than once he was, but takes revenge when he is able.

Bazim-Gorag’s demesne is the Pandemonium Stone, a floating stone spire that scours the Maelstrom. The Pandemonium Stone is wreathed in an aura of flames, and flies at the will of Bazim-Gorag. This fortress is home to an army of demons, slaadi and stranger beings. Bazim-Gorag keeps his distance from the other slaad lords for the time being, as he is among the weakest of their number and is aware he would likely lose a direct encounter. Instead, he rallies other slaadi to his cause and helps to transport them to the Material Plane to wreak havoc in his name. Death slaadi are his favorites, and rumor is that he may attempt to seize an Abyssal layer and become a demon lord if his power continues to grow.

Bazim-Gorag stands about eleven feet tall. He speaks through both heads simultaneously or in sequence, and one head has a much higher pitched voice than the other. Even in humanoid form, his voice shifts between two tones, giving conversations with him an eerie quality. In his humanoid guise, he typically appears as a man with bright orange and red hair, bronze skin and blazing red eyes.

Slaad Subdomain You venerate a slaad lord, gaining access to the healing and versatility of those chaotic beasts Associated Domain Chaos Replacement Power: The following granted power replaces the chaos blade power of the Chaos domain Rejuvenation (Su) You may grant yourself fast healing 4 for a number of rounds equal to ½ your cleric level. You may use this ability once per day at 8th level, and an additional time per day for every 4 levels beyond 8th Replacement Domain Spells: 2nd—alter self; 4th—dimension door; 5th—telekinesis

Bazim-Gorag CR 21 XP 409,600 CE Large aberration (chaotic, extraplanar, fire, slaad, slaad lord) Init +9; Senses all-around vision, darkvision 60 ft., detect law, detect magic, Perception +29 Aura cloak of chaos (DC 26) incandescent (20 ft., Ref DC 32) Defense AC 37, touch 18, flat-footed 32 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +19 natural, +4 deflection) hp 387 (25d8+275); fast healing 20 Fort +23, Ref +17, Will +23 DR 20/lawful and epic; Immune fire, petrifaction, poison, sonic; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20; SR 32; Weakness vulnerable to cold Defensive Abilities cloak of chaos, dual mind Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee +4 unholy glaive +32/+27/+22/+17 (2d8+20 plus 2d6 unholy; 19-20x3), 2 bites +23 (2d10+5) or 2 bites +28 (2d10+11), 2 claws +28 (2d6+11) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. (15 ft. with glaive) Special Attacks incinerating strike, pernicious fire Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +28 (+32 casting defensively) Constant—cloak of chaos (self only, DC 26), detect law, detect magic At will—chaos hammer (DC 22), fear (DC 22), fire shield, flame strike (DC 23), fly, greater teleport, wall of fire 3/day—quickened contagious flame, dispel law (DC 23), fire storm (DC 26), greater dispel magic, quickened true seeing 1/day—mass hold monster (DC 27), meteor swarm (DC 27), power word: kill, summon slaadi, vision Statistics Str 32, Dex 20, Con 32, Int 21, Wis 21, Cha 27 Base Atk +18; CMB +30 (+32 bull rush, +34 sunder); CMD 45 (+47 vs. sunder) Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Greater Sunder, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Critical (glaive), Improved Initiative, Improved Sunder, Lightning Reflexes, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (contagious flame, true seeing), Stand Still, Step Up Skills Acrobatics +25 (+29 when jumping), Bluff +25, Disguise +25, Intimidate +28, Knowledge (arcana, engineering, religion) +23, Knowledge (planes) +25, Perception +29, Sense Motive +22, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +21, Use Magic Device +26; Racial Modifiers +4 Perception Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Ignan, Protean, Slaadi, telepathy 100 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid, polymorph), slaad lord traits Ecology Environment any land or underground (Maelstrom) Organization unique Treasure double standard (Large +4 unholy glaive, other treasure) Special Abilities Change Shape (Su) When Bazim-Gorag uses his change shape ability, his glaive resizes to the appropriate size. This is an ability of Bazim-Gorag, not the glaive. Dual Mind (Ex) Bazim-Gorag rolls twice for all Will saves, Intelligence checks and Intelligence-based skill checks, and takes the higher value. As a swift action, Bazim-Gorag can perform a purely mental action, such as using a spell-like ability or concentrating on a spell. When he does so, the spell-like ability cannot exceed a 5th level spell. Incandescent Aura (Su) Bazim-Gorag radiates bright light in a 20 foot radius. All creatures and unattended items in the area take 6d6 points of fire damage and catch on fire. A DC 32 Reflex save halves the damage each round and prevents catching on fire. Bazim-Gorag can suppress or initiate this ability as a free action. The save DC is Constitution based. Incinerating Strike (Su) Three times per day as a swift action, Bazim-Gorag can declare a strike an incinerating strike. If it hits, the creature struck takes 100 points of fire damage (Fort DC 30 halves) in addition to the normal effects of the attack. A creature reduced to 0 hit points by this ability is completely destroyed, as per a destruction spell. Pernicious Flames (Su) Any of Bazim-Gorag’s spell-like abilities with the fire descriptor are automatically treated as if under the Empower Spell metamagic feat. Slaad Lord Traits (Ex/Su/Sp) Bazim-Gorag is a slaad lord, a powerful slaad that has assumed quasi-divine traits. A slaad lord has the following abilities:

DR 20/lawful and epic

Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20

Immune to two of the following: charm effects, compulsion effects, death effects, energy drain, fear effects, poison, petrifaction

Summon Slaadi (Sp) As a standard action once per day, a slaad lord can summon one or more slaadi constituting a CR 20 encounter. This is the equivalent of a 9th level spell

Immortal (Ex) A slaad lord does not need to eat or drink, and cannot age.

Capable of granting followers spells, as per their cult entry above

#bazim-gorag #slaad #slaad lord #pathfinder 1e #D&D #forgotten realms #commissions

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Martial Arts.”

Had this lined up for today based on two requested ideas given to me by readers. I hope you like it and have a great day!

“I think you’re really going to like this.”

“So I assume it involves beating the ever-loving shit out of someone.”

Adam grinned, “Exactly.”

Sunny cheered and Krill sighed, “Why do you two always insist on having the most violent pastimes.”

“I promise today is ALSO educational. Now stop being a stick in the mud. I am sure you will find use for yourself today.”

Krill sighed but allowed them to continue on. The Admiral was wearing a duffel bag over one shoulder, and the tennis shoes he was wearing, alone with the shots suggested that he intended to participate in some sort of physical activity. The same shades of blue light flickered over his prosthetic leg and those that licked over hers, and even from here, he could hear the soft whirring of the machine.

Sunny craned her neck at the city around them trying to figure out where they were being taken, and neither of them figured it out until the admiral cut right and shouldered open the door to a large building.

Stepping inside they were greeted with a waft of warm, humid air. The ground under their feet was squishy, made of some sort of synthetic material, and all around the room humans in various stages of physical activity dominated the landscape.

The predominant sound was that of flesh impacting padded bags as humans -- both bare knuckled -- and wearing padded gloves punched and kicked and violently strove to beat the ever loving shit out of inanimate hanging objects. Krill wanted in surprise and -- what would have been horror if he wasn’t so used to being appalled-- as two humans sparred together in a ring lined with three large ropes.

They were padded, with gloves and face masks and helmets of some sort, but that gave them free reign to punch and kick each other silly, until one of the humans grabbed the other by the arm and flipped backwards throwing them both to the ground with a violent thud.

Across the room, humans wearing strange white uniforms tied with colorful belts moved in synchronization to the call of a master. He'd punch and then kick and then block venting air by way of shouts.

Sunny turned in a tight circle, her eyes wide as they fell on another padded platform, this time in an octagonal shape, and bounded by a chain link energy cage.

Inside two women were roused to blood, fighting with nothing but barely padded gloves and the clothes on their back.

One of the women managed to throw the other to the ground and for a second they were a mass of tangled limbs before she had her arms around the other’s neck squeezing tight. Krill stepped forward but a sharp tap on the arm of one woman to the other caused the winner to let go, and the fighters to return to their feet, one rubbing her soar neck..

“What is this place?” Sunny asked, in absolute awe

Adam grinned, “This, my fine friend is what humans call a dojo. Not exactly sure where the word comes from per say, but I am pretty sure it originated in asia more than two thousand years ago and basically means a location where people train in the art of hand to hand combat.

Sunny turned her head again eyes wide as another two men grappled each other to the floor hands gripping onto each other’s uniforms tugging and pulling and trying to swipe with their feet.

“It all looks so… different.”

Adam nodded, “That's because it is. There are hundreds of different fighting systems developed by humanity over the years, sort of like how you have different spear stances in your culture fire versus water, accept these ones work on different principals.

He motioned to the square ring, “Boxing for instance focuses a lot of its attention on punches specifically. Historically the rules required that you couldn't use elbows knees or kicks, and your punches had to land above the belt, or at least that’s what I remember. He turned to point at the other side of the room where the men and women in white were still busy in their forms. Stuff like Karate Kung Fu and others are sort of more about forms and techniques. I would say that that sort of fighting is more of a philosophy or a way of life than anything, and very ancient.”

He then turned to look at the two men still wrestling on the floor, “Then there is Jiu Jitsu, a form of combat that relies on submission and grappling. USe the weakness of an enemies body against them, use their weight, use the weakness of their wrists and elbows and knees and neck. Jiu Jitsu is likely to always end up on the ground. It is similar to wrestling, though wrestling requires than you pin the other person’s shoulders to the ground.

Krill turned to look at Sunny’s face and would have rolled his eyes at the giddy expression she had if it weren't for his inability to actually roll his eyes.

“Why are there so many types?’

Adam paused tapping his chin, “Well, humanity has always been working to find a system that works best. In many cases it started with a philosophy of some kind. IN certain cases it was poise, or focus or any number of things. Monks dedicated their entire lives to the mastery and perfection of a single art of combat. In a way it was almost like meditation that could be used in times of need. Some martial arts required steal or quick movement which spawned stuff like Ninjitsu and still live son in spots like parkour despite it not being a combat sport.”

He lend them further into the room, “A lot of them spawned out of the fact that humans just love to fight, we love to see who is physically better. It made it’s way to the olympics, and then into popular culture. Wrestling, while a great athletic endeavor was just as much a theater production as it was anything else and requires an understanding between two parties to put on the most dramatic show possible.”

He walked over a few feet pausing before the octagon, “Then someone had the idea of what would happen if you put the different martial arts up against each other in a contest of who is better hence Mixed Martial Arts fought in an octagon just like this. At first practitioners of one discipline were pitted against each other to see who was better.” He rested his hand against one of the braces, “In the end it ended up weeding out a lot of the older forms of martial arts which were more a form of art than actual fighting. Philosophy wasn’t exactly helpful in the octagon, and many of the flashier forms, while they looked cool in practice turned out to be impractical in the ring.

He dropped his bag to the floor, reaching in to take out a pair of gloves, “The idea became that the more brutal straight to the point contact sports were most superior.”

Sunny crossed her arms, “So what is it, which martial art is more superior?”

Adam grinned, “That’s the catch… all of them are.”

“What do you mean.”

“All of them are assuming you put them together. Fighters that were well versed in multiple styles of fighting were the most victorious.” he fell into a standard human fighting posture feet shoulder width one foot before the other hands up and loose before his face neck down, “If you can punch like a boxer, Kick like a Muay Thai fighter, grapple like a Jiu Jitsu master and put all of it together, you may have more than a chance of winning.” he patted the side of the cage, “The general consensus is that the best kind of fighting is one that doesnt just take focus from one discipline, it is someone who can take the best things from all the disciplines and put them together all at once.”

Sunny looked on rather hungrily at the ring.

“Let’s do it.”

He grinned back, “I thought you might be interested.

Krill just shook his head and backed away, leave it to the drev and the human to find one of the most dangerous pastimes in the world. Who would have thought that philosophy could span a better way to kick the shit out of someone.

Kril Turned his head to look around the room and was surprised at all the thighs he saw. He may not have agreed with the martial arts necessarily, but there was something to be said about the variety, and the sort of human that came out of it. The men and women he could see practicing were, without a doubt some of the fittest humans he had ever laid eyes on, and he spent his time with a crew that wasn’t likely to shirt their physical health.

Men and women alike glistened with lean muscle sharp and prominent against their sweat glazed skin. Hands punched bags over and over and over again. In certain cases he watched as men and women kicked wooden poles repeatedly ramming their shins against the unforgiving surface their faces barely showing any hint of pain,

The feats of acrobatics which they managed, and the way they utilized their center of gravity was astonishing. He saw a five foot woman throw a two hundred pound man over her head simply by throwing herself to her back and kicking the other man over.

While weight and size seemed to matter to some degree there were a few humans here who didn’t seem to care.

Sunny and Adam were on the other side of the room Adam explaining the idea of kinetic linking to sunny, how by moving your body, you could force the power from your feet, all the way up through your legs hips and back and into a single punch making it more powerful.

Krill could see, on a physiological standpoint where that was true.

He even watched for a few sessions as Sunny and Adam went a few rounds Adam winning a surprising amount of times for someone who was so small, but often using the techniques that Krill was seeing around the room.

It was only after they had taken a break and were gearing up to go again that Krill noticed another human walk onto the floor. He was an older human, the pigment having faded from his hair long ago, bleaching him silver. Despite that, the man had the body of someone half his age, lean and sinuous, veins crawling up his arms like the vines of a tree.

Adam was just pulling on his gloves when the man stepped up.

“Excuse me, son.”

Adam lifted his head standing when the man approached, “Can I help you.”

The man set down his bag. Based on his voice, the man was clearly an older gentlemen though Krill had trouble guessing. Either way he had the opinion that this guy probably should take it easier than this palace suggested.

“I hate to ask, but My sparring partner is sick today, and I was wondering if you might consider a round or two. You look spry enough.”

Adam blinked in surprise but then shrugged, “Yeah sure I guess.” The way his ione eye traveled over the man suggested he was having the same thoughts as krill. He seemed like he was a bit too old to be doing something like this. Krill worried that he could potential break or tear something , but no one said a word as the man set down his bag and took a few minutes to stretch.

Krill was a bit more than surprised at the flexibility of the old man who managed a full split in both directions after warming up.

Adam seemed a little less sure of himself upon seeing that.

He definitely could not do that.

The old guy’s face was lined with delicate wrinkles through the skin, the body becoming less taught with age, but when the two of them hopped up into the ring, the older man seemed just as energetic as Adam, which seemed surprising.

No matter though, as old as he was, he would probably tire pretty easily.

“What do you say, no crotch shots and no eye gouging.” Adam announced and the old man agreed as they moved into position.

Krill and Sunny came to the side of the cage to watch as the two men squared off.

Adam kept his hands a bit relaxed, still guarded but not too concerned.

The older man didn’t keeping tight and low as they circled for a bit.

“You’ll want to keep up your guard, son.” The man chided, and adam smiled but pulled his hands in tighter.

Krill tapped his fingers.

Sunny smirked as if she knew something he didn’t

They exchanged a few blows, Adam going eas and the old guy, well being old and slow as Krill had expected. Adam’s guard began to drop again, and then all of a sudden out of absolutely nowhere there was a sharp blur of motion and a loud THWACK.

Adam hit the ground hard dazed and confused as the old man stood over him.

Sunny ohhhhed in absolute glee.

Krill hissed in pain.

Adam had just been round kicked to the head.

“I told you to keep your guard up.” The old man said, reaching down a hand to help Adam to his feet, “probably also a good idea not to underestimate senior citizens.”

Adam rubbed his head, “Ok, ok I deserved that. Let's go another round.”

“You sure, you got your memory jogged kind of hard there.”

Adam shook himself and squared back up, his guard tight this time, “bring it on grandpa.”

The old man smiled and fell back into his stance. This time Adam was not smoking, and his expression was hard as he stared at the old man. Adam came forward with a jab which the man blocked and they exchanged a few punches catching each other only grazing blows as they hit.

Adam got a kick to the upper leg,, the old man took a body shot that should have downed him, but by the staggering way Adam moved to the side suggested he had kicked something as hard as a brick wall.

The old man moved forward and the two of them were suddenly head to head, hands gripping shoulders, fingers digging into shirts, before any of them knew what happened Adam was thrown to the ground his wrist held tightly in the other man’s hands,

He tried to get up but the old man leaped down after him throwing his legs over Adams chest and positioning his elbow over his hips.

He arched his back subtly which had Adam tapping one of his legs frantically.

He let go and the two disengaged.

Sunny cheered.

Adam rubbed his elbow, “Armbar?”

The old man smiled, “I’m old boy, not an invalid.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, “I can see that. How about another round.”

With a teasing smile the old human winked a grey eye, “Only if you want to get beat again.”

Adam snorted, “yeah not so sure about that.” he squared up, “Besides, today’s early bird special is on a knuckle sandwich.”

The old man wiggled his head mockingly, “Oh a wise guy eh.”

Once Upon a time Krill would have assumed they were being aggressive in their words, but the cadence and the smiles on their faces assured him that, despite their actions, this was a friendly fight.

And how strange it was to see someone like the old man holding up so well against someone less than twice his age. By all rights Adam should have beaten him easily, but this old human despite his looks was more than what he appeared. Krill was going to have to do some more research on human aging processes, for there was something he felt he was missing.

The two had squared up again, dancing around in a circle as they came in repeatedly for attacks. Adam tried to get the upper hand with a sudden flurry of blows but the old man weathered it using precision to his advantage with precis body shots that had Adam packing off huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

At some point Adam did something neither of them had ever see, grabbing the man under his arms and turning, flipping the man over the fulcrum of his hips and sending him flowing into the ground. Adam jumped after trying to claim full mount but the old man somehow flipped him to the side and reversed it catching Adam around the back of the neck with a forearm.

The flat of his forearm went across Adam’s throat, his legs wrapped around his middle, and his opposite hand grabbed onto his wrist. As he squeezed, he also elongated his body..

Krill stepped forward hand out afraid the man was going to pop his cervical spine apart until Adam tapped falling to the ground with a grunt.

“Ok ok, ONE more time.” Adam said wobbling to his feet

The old man followed after grinning, “Whatever you say.”

This last fight went much like the one before it. An exchange up top and a sudden move onto the ground, though this time the man trapped adam using his legs, thighs constricting around the side of his neck.

Adam was still breathing just fine, until his body slumped to the side.

Krill leaped forward in shock and confusion thinking that the man had somehow injured his neck, killed him. But almost as soon as the man let go Adam twitched and then sat up looking groggy.

“What the.”

“You were supposed to tap before passing out.”

Adam rubbed his head, “Was that a triangle choke… didn’t even feel like I was choking.”

Krill stormed forward, “What happened! Adam are you alright. Do I need to call the police.”

Adam waved him off, “It was a blood choke krill, he temporarily cut off blood supply to my brain, no big deal.”

“No big deal!” Krill shreakied, “How is it having blood in your brain NOT a big deal.’

Sunny cheered with glee behind Krill’s protests leaping up into the ring and towards the old man, “Can you teach me.”

The old man seemed surprised, but agreed and glanced oer at Adam, “Someone needs some extra lessons anyway.”

Adam snorted and rolled his eyes but otherwise took it with good humor.

Krill sat fuming in the corner.

Humans, frigging humans always finding ways to hurt themselves. Crushing each other’s windpipes and cutting off carotid arteries, and bending joints that weren't supposed to be bent, and all for what because it was FUN to look STRONGER. He couldn't believe this.

Stupid

Stupid humans.

He was going to have to tell someone. He was going to have to rant.

He was…..

Probably going to write an academic paper, though he was going to be angry while doing it.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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elmidol · 4 years

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Static Communications

Three Blind Tooke Part Three Death is an Art

Read on Ao3

Three Blind Tooke

Part Three: Death is an Art

Chapter Sixty-Four: Static Communications

We stand and we fall,

United/Divided in this war.

I hope that soon

We’ll achieve what we’re fighting for.

Due to his piloting expertise, Poe Dameron had been one of the individuals that had volunteered to aid in locating the various remaining First Order strongholds that were potential fortresses for Supreme Leader Armitage Hux during the final battle. Not final of the entire war, merely final of his reign. Taking comfort in this knowledge, you were able to dismiss the possibility that all Order of Ren pilots on reconnaissance missions might perish before relaying whatever information they were able to obtain. It would have also been a blow to consider that they could die after they had transmitted the data to nearby Order of Ren allies. Thus you chose to focus on what you could control alongside the positives in your life.

Ushar and Finn had taken a sort of liking to one another, and the pair practiced communications through the Force as well as with comlinks. It had been decided that Finn would lead one of the Force sensitive squadrons on the ground of whatever planet was chosen while Ushar provided further support, just as Ap’lek had discussed with you before. Rose worked with two Order of Ren officers and three technicians to develop scramblers for the comlinks that would prevent the First Order from hacking into the feed. Ushar and Finn were content to work as test dummies for the new equipment. They were seen wandering around the Star Destroyer, sometimes together and other times apart, speaking into the devices while others with standard First Order tech worked to override the scramblers used.

You sat beside Rose while sipping a mug of caf to help warm yourself. The temperature in this section of the Star Destroyer was purposefully cooler, and you wore loose garments that properly covered the bruises Kylo Ren had left on your body. He had, to no surprise from you, insisted you use bacta to lessen the damage from an assortment of the bites. You had not argued with him, aware that his concern dealt with the upcoming battle. You wanted to be at your best, and he knew this. You rolled your shoulders while watching Rose’s fingers in motion. She had finished speaking with one of the technicians and was busy making an adjustment on her own to check if one spotted error was fixed with the alteration.

She rarely looked in your direction, although this was largely due to the presence of Cardo. He set many people on edge simply by standing there. You remembered how the Resistance had treated you similarly when you had returned. This similarity allowed you to develop a stronger sense of camaraderie with Cardo, who had taken to gravitating towards you. “Will jammers baffle the scramblers?” you asked, leaning closer to inspect the device in her hands.

Rose gave a nod without hesitating. “Yeah. There aren’t many ways around that. Finn and Ushar perfecting Force communications might come in more handy in that case. Although Rey says that it drains your energy the farther away the target is.” You recalled how Snoke had bridged together Rey and Kylo’s minds; he had been the one using his energy to assist in those communications, which had then lessened the toll on the two. You sometimes took that for granted, your memory skewing events.

Cardo set a hand on the edge of the container on which you were seated. “Have a team devoted to taking out the jammers.” His voice had an echo-like quality to it that came and went. As he spoke in that moment, it was present and more pronounced with the quiet enveloping the room. An officer jumped in surprise then shuddered. You pinched your lips into a thin line while trying to keep from reacting to the others. “I’ll speak with Kylo.” Despite his words, Cardo did not dismiss himself nor walk away, which indicated that he would complete this task at an unspecified time in the future.

“Ye...yeah,” the officer that had startled most visibly stuttered out, likely to fill the awkward silence that you had allowed to descend. You were annoyed with being one of the few to acknowledge Cardo as an equal. Forcing others to do the same was for their own good in your opinion.

Inwardly you were screaming: He’s the one who just helped adjust your armor to withstand more damage, to help you survive run-ins with terror troopers. You looked over your shoulder to find that Cardo’s mask was dipped in your direction. He could sense it. All of the Knights of Ren were Force sensitive, and you were more and more convinced that absorbing some of Not-Rey’s life force during his revival had indeed increased his control over the mystical power. Where others avoided him, you wanted him beside you on the battlefield. Not that this came as any sort of surprise; you had been on missions with the Knights of Ren, and you trusted all six of them with your life just as they had trusted you with theirs.

Cardo, Kylo, and you had all three died and then come back. You were set apart from the others. Cardo’s subtle ostracization was more noticeable than yours had been. Kylo Ren self-isolated socially and thus it was easy to miss the occasions that his choice was stripped, that he was ignored. It was funny, to you, that Kylo had once upon a time mentioned the Rule of Two when your life seemed to latch onto groups of three instead.

“Okay, Finn, come get this and try again.” Rose spoke into a second comlink that was in her possession. Finn’s voice came back moments later to acknowledge her. Rose considered you. “Do you plan to be part of that team?” Your mind raced through scenarios, weighing pros and cons of devoting yourself to taking out towers that would be blocking communications. It could take you closer to Hux or it could draw you away from him. You took another sip of your caf while shrugging, committing to nothing. Rose shook her head. “We’re going to win.”

“I want to be there,” you said, lowering your mug. Before she could say anything more--her mouth was open to do so--you continued. “Not to kill him myself. I want to watch him die though. After everything he did, I want to see it.”

The discussion might have been longer had Finn not arrived, causing Rose’s attention to shift back to her job. It was unknown how swiftly the Order of Ren would have to spring into action once the information was retrieved by Poe or the other pilots. You moved up onto your feet, walking away from the group. Cardo trailed after you, his steps soft, controlled.

Your mind shifted focus, working through the list of weaponry that the First Order would deploy against the Order of Ren. The AT-M6 Walkers would be among the most troublesome due to their reinforced limbs, which would make them harder to bring down. That was where aerial support would be most beneficial. If any of these behemoths were stationed in a location that defended shields--a high likelihood--it would be best if you focused there. Bringing the shields down was imperative. The First Order’s starfighters would be picking off ground troops and Order of Ren ships alike. The AT-M6s were also armed with anti-ship cannons, which was a benefit when it came to the few that the Order of Ren was in possession of. The issue was landing them on the ground without the First Order picking of the transports first. That was not your responsibility, however it nevertheless impacted all that you would do.

Cardo brushed his arm against yours as he arrived by your side rather than following you. You switched your cup of caf to your other hand, took a sip, and gave him a nonverbal cue that you were listening. “Kylo and Rey believe that Hux may use taozin amulets. Even if we know which planet he is on, pinpointing his location will be an issue for them.”

“So… We have to buy them time.” You felt your shoulders sag as you spoke. Better understood why it was that Cardo had not commented on Rose’s question or insistence of victory. He had not wanted to seem as though he was siding with her. When it came to matters of the Force, the others were less inclined to listen to him or remain open-minded. They would have insisted on speaking with Rey first before forming an opinion. “Where will you and Ap’lek be?”

Ap’lek, you were told, would be leading one of the squadrons that contained both Force sensitives and non. Kuruk would be providing him cover; the Night Buzzard would not be in use due to its noise and the need for stealth before the battle broke out. You did not know how any of the Knights felt about this, nor did you ask. You were in favor of the decision, which would make things awkward if you learned for a fact that they were opposed to it. As for Trudgen and Vicrul, they would be working together in a unit designed to clear the way for Kylo and Rey. This left Cardo, who gestured to you, confirming that you were going to be together on the battlefield. You instantly relaxed.

“That wookie is going to be with Kylo as well. Insists it.”

Your lips twitched, although you were not able to fully smile. It was hard to say if Chewbacca wanted to be by Kylo because of their history together before Kylo had joined the First Order, or if it was because of a lack of trust. That was not even to delve into how Kylo himself felt. The arrival of Lando along with a few others that had served in the Rebellion had been met with silence from him. Lando and Chewbacca had each been close with Han. They might serve as nothing more than a reminder that Kylo had killed his own father.

A chill ran through you, one that you did your best to squash, to shrug away. Concerns regarding his reception once the war ended would wait. You were not ignoring them completely. Neither was he. Kylo Ren had chosen where to place his Knights based on strategy. The same with other members who held any leadership positions. It was another reason that Rey would be fighting at his side; she would not betray him, that you knew with an absolute certainty. This was meant to be a two-way war now that the Resistance had joined the Order of Ren. Of course, there were always radicals that would break rank at a moment’s notice to further whatever agenda they had in mind.

“They won’t be able to rely on the Force to locate Hux,” you said, returning to a different issue. One that you could better navigate, that would not drive you crazy with paranoia. “Do we have anyone or anything good at tracking?”

The echo-like quality to his voice returned when next he spoke. “Jannah stated that there was a planet her squadron explored while Snoke was in command. Akk dogs once served Jedi, and their hides are resistant to lightsabers, which will make them plenty capable in battle. She returned there after joining the Resistance. They’ve been training a few. There were other creatures as well. Orbak. They’re on a different ship in the fleet.” Now you did smile, it striking you that the Force, that the galaxy, was gathering together to fight against the First Order. It was joining under Kylo Ren, a balance being created.

You need only remind yourself that the Resistance had worked to locate First Order officers for years without being able to use the Force. You had, for one. Prior to missions, during your training, you had not been able to use the Force to complete your tasks. This nervousness that you were feeling, you were able to let some of it go, realizing that it was nothing more than a waste of time and energy.

Unaware of how much time was left to you, you decided that you would seek out your mother. Whether she would speak to you or not, you were unsure. Her moods varied. She had not recovered from the destruction of Naboo, and you doubted that she ever truly would. You drained the last of the caf from your mug on the way, handed the empty dish to a droid you passed, and asked Cardo if he wanted to be present when you visited her. He grunted, noncommittal. His presence or absence would not change a thing for you. Allowing him an opportunity to leave without it becoming awkward, however, had felt important to you.

Though he did not leave you, Cardo slowed his pace. This resulted in you being nearly a yard ahead of him when you located your mother, who was seated near a collection of supplies that were being inventoried by a team made up of former Resistance members and Order of Ren stormtroopers. She had a doll in her hands that you recognized as belonging to one of the former Resistance tech officers that had children hidden away with their father. You stared at the doll as you eliminated the last of the distance that remained. Cardo, on the other hand, fell back another few steps and stopped, possibly to offer you a bit of privacy in the rather public area. You shifted onto one of the crates that was beside hers.

You curled your legs so that your feet were no longer touching the ground and arced your body to help you grow nearer to your mother. She hugged the doll tighter to her body, her hand cupping its head against her chest. She was not in a hopeless state nor did you believe that she was feeling that death and loss were inevitable. This woman was tired. Ready for the war to end. Ready for a peace that she had believed had already arrived after the Rebellion had ended. You reached out a hand to touch hers. She did not flinch away. Her eyes drifted towards you, slipping along your hand and up your arm until she could explore your face with her gaze.

“I wanted your father to be wrong. I wanted you to be wrong.” You nodded--what else could you do? You had wanted her to be wrong as well, however you had accepted the truth. It was why you had joined the Resistance. “I’m sorry. I let this happen to you.”

A puff of air escaped your lips. You had to struggle to hold in the laugh that threatened to emerge. Bitter. Amused. Content. Relieved. It should not have taken her this long to get to this point of acceptance, and yet… And yet she was your mother. You saw at last the stubbornness that you had displayed when Kylo had tried to help you understand the gray areas of war. Stubborn, just like your mother before you. You smiled, rolled your eyes, and shook your head.

“I don’t blame you.” She nodded, whispering I know, and lowered the doll to her lap. “He won’t win. I know it won’t bring back everyone that he killed, but we are going to stop him from killing more.”

“You have your father’s strength,” your mother said, touching your shoulder. You felt your stomach swoop at her words and at the physical display of affection. “I believe in you.” Your throat felt impossibly thick with emotion, with the threat of tears. You swallowed, scooted nearer again. She wrapped her arms around you. The doll rolled onto the ground, and your mother made no move to prevent this from happening. You were her priority, her focus.

Together the pair of you sat until a chime came from a communications device that she had with her. She was helping to keep track of equipment as well as advise on political matters so that communications could be maintained with other Resistance allies that were wary when it came to the Order of Ren. Your mother patted your hands, stood, and left after giving the top of your head a kiss. You watched her go, your gaze drifting towards Cardo only after she was no longer in your line of sight.

Joining with him for a second time, neither of you said a word; there was a silent understanding for where you would be headed next. For your mother to be called away, you were under the assumption that one or more of the teams out for reconnaissance had returned or else been eliminated. You wanted confirmation on this, which meant that you planned to go straight to Kylo Ren. As Supreme Leader, he was one of the first being fed any new information. This was undisputed by the others since Rey was at his side, or at least had been the last you had been updated.

Along with Rey there were other members from the former Resistance, many of whom you recognized as having been leaders. They offered you dismissive glances before turning back to one another. The multitude of conversations that were taking place revealed that your suspicions were correct. You passed two of the Knights of Ren before arriving in front of Kylo. He flicked through information displayed on a datapad as a mini holoprojection was expanded to give a more detailed layout of one potential base on which Hux might be hiding.

“What planet?” you asked, keeping your voice low so that you did not interrupt anyone.

It was Rey who answered you. “Bakura.” She turned next to Cardo. “I was discussing possible pieces of armor that would be quick for you to help me with.” She pinched at the white cloth that she wore, and you wondered how it was she had kept it from growing dirty as well as where she had gotten it from. The two left together, their voices fading and quickly drowned out by distance and other discussions.

Kylo Ren did not speak although he seemed to you to relax as you drew nearer to him now that Rey was no longer present. You read the report without any interference. There might have been members in the room who would have objected to you looking at the data before some of your superiors, but if there were then they kept their mouths closed. Getting into petty squabbles or irritating Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was not going to benefit anyone besides the First Order. Four individuals joined together to form a group as another transmission came through. You wondered if it was another team returning or if it was a report of failure and death.

“How likely do you think it is that he’s using Bakura?” you asked, twisting back around after observing the group. He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head that you were able to take note of solely because his hair shifted. You crossed your arms over your chest, let your head loll back, and stared up at the ceiling. Given the fact that the data regarding Bakura indicated a generous amount of life, you should have been pleased. Instead you were frustrated that the information sought remained elusive--unless the new report would prove to be exactly what the Order of Ren required.

Kylo flicked the data away in favor of pulling out a different report, one that detailed how the Order of Ren would be divided in the upcoming hours. The First Order had many resources at its disposal that it could use to destroy and enslave more of the galaxy while its enemies focused on the mission of killing Supreme Leader Hux. This was another reason that your mother’s work remained important. The connections that she had with others would aid in convincing them to, even if only temporarily, joining the Order of Ren in its endeavor to fully defeat the First Order. Waiting for another to crown themselves Supreme Leader before engaging in battle with any not in the same sector as the fleet defending Hux would hand them victories, would cost lives that could be spared. These allies could pull together available ships and pilots. Smugglers, rogues, pirates, anyone who was willing to fight against the First Order. This was not about absolving people of past crimes or grievances so much as winning the war.

One of the documents available for your viewing was a list of individuals who would hold lead positions in these other battles. Near the top was Lando Calrissian. You could not say that you were surprised with this or with other names that were familiar to you from both the former Resistance and original Order of Ren members. Beside their names were expandable lists that contained information on personnel and vehicles along with weaponry that would be devoted to their units. Kylo slid the device from his hands into yours before reaching for another on which he was able to access the same information.

You muttered out a quick thanks while expanding the lists. Jannah would be working with Lando, the Orbaks going with them save for a small number necessary for other missions. Their cover would come from old Rebellion allies that had remained in contact with Lando as well as rogues from his past. Other Force sensitive stormtroopers and officers would accompany him, although their numbers were minimal. Given their destination, which would be key in securing more weaponry from the First Order, it made sense. Rose was set to go with them, which you understood was due to her capabilities as a technician. She would be working with slicers to take control of one of the First Order’s remaining planetary training facilities, which potentially held records that could identify silent partners that might work against the Order of Ren when the battles ended. Lando would be given the Millennium Falcon for the mission.

“Supreme Leader, we may have received confirmation of Hux’s whereabouts.” Your head snapped quickly enough that your neck gave a protesting crack. Setting a hand against the area, you massaged it while listening to the report, which had come originally from Poe Dameron. It was the amount of weaponry on an Outer Rim planet that had heightened the Order of Ren’s suspicion of the area. That had been increased. Walkers were in place, shields raised, frequencies jammed on one side of the planet. Along with one of the scouting party’s ships there had been three starships that had entered real space near First Order Star Destroyers only to be shot down. They were taking no chances. Too hostile. And they were already aware of the Order of Ren’s intentions to hunt them.

Poe had had the foresight to send in members of his squad from different angles, which had allowed one of the parties to properly infiltrate the planet for a cursory scan, which had been uploaded to their ship’s databanks then transmitted to two others in case they were shot down. It was thanks to this strategy that the Order of Ren was in possession of the information. The pilot had been killed shortly after completing this final act of duty. You said a silent thanks and hoped that their death had been swift, that they had not had to suffer. Poe had met with a different Order of Ren Star Destroyer to relay the information since the vessel would be more capable of long-range transmissions whereas his X-wing was not. There had not yet been a return from Poe or his squad members, and there would not be. They were ready to fight, did not want to risk endangering the flagship with a hyperspace jump. The Star Destroyer in question that he had gone to had already been in position to fight should the situation call for it.

Kylo Ren seized your upper arm and began to steer you towards the door. “Allocate resources for the remaining targets. Ready all squadrons.” He pointed to Kuruk. “Ensure we have all necessary data.” Kuruk gave a stiff nod, passed the two of you on his way to the officer that you had just left, and began speaking. “You will land with me.”

That was one of the most dangerous parts--getting past the fleet and making it to the ground. You appreciated that he wanted to protect you, to ensure that whatever ship transported you to the planet was not obliterated. His long strides were making you jog to keep up; you would have been walking faster naturally, however your mind was working through where each person you knew would be. Kylo had a comlink on his person that he raised to his mouth, speaking to someone who released an inhuman response. Chewbacca, your mind supplied. The wookie was being informed that he would not be on the same ship. It was not a permanent separation, Kylo argued, his voice stern, leaving no room for argument. In order to infiltrate such a well-guarded stronghold, the wisest course of action was to attack from both sides. This would divide the First Order’s resources as well, would prevent the First Order from relying on its ability to potentially fatigue Kylo before he reached his destination. They could not attack in layers. A grumble from Chewbacca indicated that he understood even if he did not fully agree with the fact that he would not be at Kylo’s side.

There was a fondness to Chewbacca’s tone, or so you believed, that helped to calm you. Blood was not the only kind of family. Kylo had more who accepted him than he knew, even if they had a strange way of showing their support. They would learn one another in time.

In the meantime, you had to focus on the upcoming battle. As Kylo released your arm, you were already starting to split off in order to finish gearing up. You knew where to meet him without being told. It had been one of the first things discussed before scouts had been sent out. This way no time would be wasted with needless scrambling. Already there were announcements sounding through speakers. You did not listen to any of those. You required no instructions. Others, though, paused in their steps. Thankfully they were aware enough to step off to the side, which prevented any pileups from occurring. You raced past multiple groups. Gradually your speed increased until you were running at top speed. You did not need a name for the planet, whichever one it was, to choose what armor you would wear. The one that Cardo had modified regulated your body temperature for multiple terrains. The majority of the handicaps that had existed since you had been impaled by Kylo Ren’s lightsaber all that time ago would not stop you as they would have before.

As you dressed and readied, you were on your commlink, receiving updated targets and lists of locations in the form of coordinates that would be pertinent to your assigned tasks. You listened more than you spoke. What few words you did speak were to request confirmation on anything you might have misheard or to gain a name for individuals you would be in contact with. Visual data was sent to you, which you scrolled through at a fast pace. There would be things you might miss, however you did your best to commit everything to memory and would be relying on your allies to assist in filling any gaps that might exist in your knowledge just as they would do with you.

Your mother was waiting by the ship that would take you to your destination when you arrived in the docking bay. Kylo Ren slipped an item into her hand, and then she was turning to you, speaking and completing the task she had set out to do before you could respond. She, too, understood that there was no time to be wasted. You would figure out what was said after you were on your way to the planet. The transport was capable of hyperspace jumps, which allowed this flagship to be left out of battle and used instead as a base of operations and supply house.

Other Star Destroyers would join the transports for the battle and provide cover. Many of those were also in possession of the Walkers, which would be deployed as quickly as possible. From the ramp of the ship, you watched your mother head for a different transport that would take her to safety. You turned back around after releasing a quick breath. You did not want to cause any delays, did not want sentiment to interfere and cause the deaths of everyone onboard. Which would, in turn, more than likely cause the defeat of the Order of Ren.

Aris did not look back like this. She was brave, you though while nodding and settling into place. The others joined you in fastening themselves into the ship. Some, like you, used the restraints. Others had the Force to anchor them to their seats so that no amount of turbulence would jostle them. The ramp lifted. You heard other ships going through the same motions all around. Some would be joining you, while others had different destinations. Poe Dameron would be there already. So, too, would ships that belonged to other Resistance allies. Order of Ren allies, you corrected yourself, finding fault with the continual separation into two entities.

The jump occurred when the ship was a safe distance away from others after exiting the docking bay. From the view port, you were able to watch the dots of stars elongate into streaks. You closed your eyes, settled back, and felt your helmet hit against your seat. There were coughs, the sounds of breathing, small noises; nothing that could be constituted as conversation, yet there was no full silence in the cabin of the transport. It almost took you back in time to when you had first joined the Resistance and were headed for a new base with other recruits. No one wanting to say anything stupid. Everyone waiting to see if someone else would speak.

It was the pilot who began talking, outlining the two units that were inside the transport. Reminding each individual of their mission. Not that anyone was dumb. It was all too easy to become overwhelmed when you landed on the ground, though, and this was truer now more than ever. You could lose focus due to the fact that you knew Armitage Hux was down there. The Akk dogs would be ready to seek him. If there were no taozin amulets, Kylo and Rey would have the Force to locate him. You did not want to be away from them for any period of time, however it was going to happen. Based on the information that had been used to brief everyone, there was no way around it.

It was not a heavily forested planet though neither was it a desert. There would be an assortment of flat lands on which the Walkers would have an advantage. No high grounds with cover that you could use to shoot at enemies from a distance. You had a list of names from other transports--just as they had your name--and a frequency to use in areas that comms worked. Poe Dameron had your number as well, so to speak. He had asked for you by name--by Supernova, which had made you smile--and you had immediately agreed to be his eyes on the ground.

Exiting hyperspace, you again watched out of the view port to count the number of Super Star Destroyers that the First Order had present. The Order of Ren’s were arriving all around. Streaks of blaster fire gave light to the darkness of space. The pilot and copilot of the transport ignored this aside from ensuring that the ship was not struck. The ship headed nearer to the planet, breaking atmosphere in under a minute of entering real space.

What called upon the storm could have been any number of things, yet you somehow did know that it was a natural phenomenon rather than made by man. Starships caught by lightning strikes would go on the fritz. That was not something that Armitage Hux, as desperate as he might have been growing, would risk. He was patient, not foolish. The cover of the storm’s darkness would give an advantage to the Order of Ren’s ground troops once they made land. It had been wise for Rey to abandon her white clothing in favor of garbing herself in black. The armor that Cardo had assisted in fashioning for her was lightweight, much like what you wore. She did not have a helmet like you did. That might have been too great a difference that swiftly turned into a hindrance. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the starfighters that were ahead of the ship you were in. You leaned forward to look at them. Felt Kylo shift in the seat to your right, no doubt observing you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your limbs trembling. Your teeth clattered together before you clenched your jaw to silence the sounds. There was a vibroblade sheathed at your hip. A second on your ankle. A pistol on your other hip. The blaster rifle that would serve as your main weapon was in your hands, its safety currently on. X-wings and Y-wings both were flying alongside the transports that carried stormtroopers, officers, and the Knights that were in different squadrons. Your heart felt like a hammer pounding against your chest, threatening to burst through your sternum and ribs. Finn and the others were out there. Poe Dameron was in an X-wing, though you did not know which. It was too dark to tell.

The Walkers being deployed met resistance in the form of First Order ships, ground-to-air missiles, and other Walkers. Across from you, Cardo was drumming out a gentle beat with two fingers. This was not to calm himself. He was calm, eerily so, not dissimilar to how Kylo and Rey displayed a sense of peace that most others were deprived of. You would have been more calm if it were not for the fact that you were meant to temporarily split away from Kylo Ren. Underneath your armor, you wore the chain that held your wedding rings. Some strange reminder that you were always together--it had been your mother’s idea, and you were unsure how you felt about it now that the departure loomed so near.

Another flash of lightning, this one crackling, spreading, capturing a ship with its might. Your heart stuttered, your mind working to identify which side it belonged to. Should you cheer for its failure? Pray that it recovered? You closed your eyes and made an attempt to rid yourself of all thought. You had to focus, to ground yourself, or you would drive yourself insane. This was not difficult for you to do when you set your mind to it. The Resistance--Ip specifically--had taught you well. These practices were how you had survived against Kylo when he had been your enemy, when he had been working to break you. When Armitage Hux had worked to break you as well.

The landing gears were deployed. Shuddering, the ship rocked as it began to lower its ramp before it was fully down. All around you there were people unlatching themselves. You felt your restraints sliding off of you as well. You were on your feet, opening your eyes only after you had started to head in the direction of the ramp. Cardo was at your side, Rey behind you along with some of the troops, and Kylo was in front of you. His cape billowed behind him without allowing the hood to whip off his head. It would protect him from the rain, the droplets of which were thin, reminiscent of needles that felt as though they wished to cut through your flesh.

Kylo Ren activated his lightsaber the moment he was clear of piercing any equipment or allies. In the skies above the ships engaged one another. TIEs circled, the same ships that had tried to shoot you down on the entire journey to the planet’s surface. You spared a quick look at the sky to witness the Star Destroyers firing at one another. Hundreds of thousands of lives would be lost with every one of them that was destroyed. You sent a silent prayer to any and all deities that those losses would be First Order lives. Your feet carried you towards Kylo, your heart aching with the foreknowledge that the minutes were transforming into seconds before the parting would occur. You should have continued to watch the sky or the enemies moving on the ground, however you chose to observe him. The grace with which he walked. The power that he utilized when carving through the first of his adversaries as though they were nothing, which was precisely what he had reduced them to.

Cardo tapped on your shoulder. You jerked your gaze away, forcing yourself to, aware that if you did not then you never would. With a nod, you assessed your surroundings. Durasteel structures melded with the natural formations of the land, which was not entirely different than Starkiller Base had been save for the absence of snow and the reduced amount of trees. You crouched, slipping along one of the other transports and using it as a shield from enemy fire. Cardo prepared one of his concussion grenades, sending it towards an AT-M6 that had cut through one of those belonging to the Order of Ren. The two of you paused after taking cover behind another transport, which shook. You grunted, your legs tingling as the ground shook beneath you. Cardo’s body shielded yours, which you knew to be in case any fire from blasts made its way too near. His flame-resistance Riftiaworm-hide coat was one you would have otherwise envied.

The stormtroopers and two officers that were assigned to stick nearby rejoined the pair of you when the trembling of the earth under your feet lessened. It would not fade entirely, not with all the explosions nor with the Walkers that were heading towards one another. One of them brought up a comlink, speaking into it to gather intel on which other squadrons were in their proper locations. There was a jamming device closer to the compound. Delaying going further until more of you were in place would be wise, however you could not expect to have time be a resource that could be wasted. Your finger flicked the safety off your blaster rifle while the officer received a response from two of the other squadrons and three pilots that would be able to provide cover for a short period unless an enemy managed to chase them away.

“As we discussed,” Cardo said, his voice so clear through the chaos because of its inhuman quality, “I will damage any shields around the tower. You aim for its weak spot.” You nodded, a frown pulling at your lips. It was easier said than done. The blueprints that had been available in the information gathered by Dameron’s team during recon could be old. They had not had much time to get in and out, and what they had managed to obtain had been added to old files from the Order of Ren’s days as the other half of the First Order. Fast repairs or alterations would have eliminated the weak spot, in which case the enemy would know your position and be able to attack before anyone had an opportunity to adjust strategy. “Keep her covered.” Each of the others in the squad gave verbal confirmation. Now that you were in battle, there was no fear of the Knight from them.

Take out the jammers so that we can communicate while destroying the inner shields. That way Kylo and Rey can work on tracking Hux. Inhaling deeply, you calculated the distance from your current position to the next transport shuttle. Just as you were finishing, you swore aloud; a Walker fired upon it in unison with a First Order TIE on a strafing run. The transport exploded, its shredded parts flying across the battlefield. Those sliced through enemies and allies indiscriminately. A stormtrooper to your left fumbled their weapon. You reached out with one hand to assist them. Grateful that they had not removed the safety from their weapon, you advised them that they do so as well as be more careful. This was not their first battle.

“It’s my largest one yet,” they said, not arguing so much as expressing how small they felt. You sympathized, nodding, and giving a verbal you’ll be fine, stick by me that you hoped would not become a falsehood.

A different stormtrooper took lead after finding a different path to take. You followed without comment, as did your other allies. Cardo walked behind you, firing in the direction of a group of enemy soldiers that were on land mounts, some organic and others machine. He took out two-thirds of them easily, damaging and injuring others. Three stormtroopers fired their weapons after him, picking off even more. You spared a glance over your shoulder at them, chose to leave them to it so that your weapon would be at the ready should you encounter more First Order troops coming in the opposite direction.

The tower was coming into your field of vision as you ventured farther away from the transport shuttle that had taken you to the planet. Surrounding it were multiple weapons turrets and another three Walkers that were further guarded by ground troops stationed behind a barricade and weak shields. Damaged ships and firefights brightened the dark sky between bursts of lightning. You touched a button on your armor that activated a tiny electronic torch that was attached to your helmet. You did this in bursts then shut off the light, waiting a mere handful of seconds before receiving a response from another team. They would work with Cardo to bring down the obstacles that would prevent you from destroying the tower.

“Once the third team is in place, we need to go for it,” you said, earning a grunt of disagreement from an ally who went on to voice that they wanted to wait for more aerial support and a fourth squadron. “In the meantime they’ll pick us off. You think the enemy won’t have noticed those signals?” Your tone was harsh, just as you had intended. Instead of recoiling, the officer countered with the accusation that you should have waited if that was such a concern.

Cardo shoved the man with his forearm, the one without the arm cannon, and looked directly at you. “You don’t want to wait.” You gestured to the sky milliseconds before a fresh flash of lightning struck. “The storm is getting closer.” A nod from you. This effectively silenced the officer, who had been ready to speak against the Knight as well as you. He was bold, and you had to respect that on some level. What you did not respect was his foolishness, his inability to properly survey his surroundings and account for the presence of the storm.

Thankfully he seemed to have caught onto the fact that he had been in the wrong. He held his tongue, nodded, and worked with you and Cardo rather than against you. The Knight of Ren kept you covered with his body as best he could while also providing proper offensive and defensive shots that eliminated many of your enemies. As had been stated, your position was not entirely secure due to the signaling. The third unit, however, was swift in falling into place. As the storm overhead raged on, Cardo and the others began to target the shields that prevented the tower from being hit by the shot that you were meant to take. You ensured that you did not empty your weapon’s power when you directed it at First Order troops that managed to survive the blasts from your allies.

Two X-wings streaked past from overhead. You knew them by the sound of their engines, and so you did not look up, which allowed you to keep focus on the target at the other end of your scope. The shields were weakening. You noticed blasts slipping through cracks in the barrier, and you would have been at a choice position to fire at the tower if not for the fact that the First Order was readying a more volatile assault. You swore as Cardo seized hold of your arm. He yanked you along with him, and your allies shuffled to keep up as a lobbed grenade landed where you had just been. A shout of agony alerted you to the fact that not everyone had made it. Your stomach churned, but you did not look back. Had you done so, had you paused for even a second, you would have been crushed by debris that rolled through and silenced the cries of pain.

“There are four others who will attempt the shot if I can’t, right?” you asked, seeking clarification more because doubt had begun to seep into you. That was the plan, however some individuals would ignore these commands in favor of fulfilling other duties that were not tentative in nature. Cardo muttered something under his breath, something that you did not quite catch and that he did not repeat. You dismissed it, decided that you did not care about the answer, and checked your surroundings to better recenter yourself. You were farther away from the direction that Kylo had headed. This realization had you gritting your teeth, a snarl breaking out across your face. That was two things wrong already.

I have dealt with worse odds, you reminded yourself as Cardo’s helmet turned in your direction. You wondered what it was that he felt through the Force, or if he was simply more familiar with you personally now to the extent that he could read and predict your moods. The Knights of Ren had been enjoying battles since before the First Order had revealed itself. Likely since before the Resistance had been formed, you mused. You appreciated his calm demeanor.

“Get me closer to the tower. I’m firing.” The words left your lips as your group merged with one of the others. There were nods and voices murmuring agreement. Some of the members fanned out in order to ensure that you were all not a single, easy target for the enemy. The ground reverberated under the feet of Walkers, which had started to pepper the area in front of themselves with blaster fire. You noticed that the First Order held little regard for the lives of their stormtroopers. They fell just as swiftly as did your allies. More quickly, in fact. Defect. It’s not too late. If you don’t, I will kill you.

Though you thought this, you knew that you would not be targeting any of them for the next several minutes. The Order of Ren soldiers around you would, however, and you trusted them to properly cover you so that you could fulfill your mission. As soon as you did so, you were going to break away from this group. You had to find Kylo, and you knew that Cardo was aware of your plan. He would come with you. There was no need to speak about this, to discuss what was going to happen the moment you downed the jammer.

Lightning struck and thunder roared; another ship was caught in one of nature’s snares in the sky. It began spinning on its descent, crashing into one of the Walkers, which was pushed off-balance. It rocked against its neighbor, both of them shaking. The starfighter exploded, its force successfully shoving the two Walkers onto their sides. Death traveled along the land. It swept through the huge wave of carnage that had resulted from that single lightning strike.

This granted you an opportunity to rush for a new position that was superior to the one at which you were originally set to take the shot. You thanked whatever it was that had allowed this--fate, a deity, chance, random luck. Dropping down to one knee, you took a steadying breath. Your allies were spread out around you, not one of them obscuring your vision. If an enemy targeted your group, you would be one of the last hit save for if some freak accident occurred. You were completely grateful for the bravery exhibited by those you fought alongside. It was because of them that you were at long last able to take the shot so that you could focus next on rejoining Kylo Ren.

#kylo ren x reader #three blind tooke #death is an art #kylo ren fanfic #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x you

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kiroh4918 · 5 years

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The Terms of Writing Fanfics, Reading Stories and Watching Movies… According to a Lazy Teenager.

Fellow Humans and non-Humans from Fandoms Near and Far,… I welcome you to read a document I basically just made. This is:…

“The Terms of Writing Fanfics, Reading Stories and Watching Movies… According to a Lazy Teenager.”

Firstly, I would like to address The Different Types of Ships…

Now, this isn’t about how different relationships interact, that will be discussed later in The Hogwarts Guide to Relationships. This is discussing what happens to the ships.

Firstly, we have a sailing ship – obviously, this means a ship that is canon. Examples: literally everywhere mate. Most ships are sailing ships. (This is the un-original term).

The Sunk Ship (The other un-original term). A ship that doesn’t work out. They move on. The ship starts to sink, and they get on little dinghiess and sail to shore for a bit, before preparing to start sailing again. Sometimes the ruins of these ships are found and excavated (they become friends), sometimes they can even sail again (They get back together).

Then we have our Battle Ships. This is the canon ship that is a constant battle with non-canon ships, I like to call Pirate ships. These are the two ships we get major shipping wars with. Fans are fighting all day and all night to prove their ship is superior. It’s nasty stuff man. Examples of these kinda ships are Romione (Ron x Hermione) vs Dramione (Draco x Hermione) or Kataang (Katara x Aang) vs Zutara (Zuko x Katara.) There is nothing wrong with the pirate ship, it’s just not canon, and that’s fine.

Also, who else is back on the Avatar train because Netflix is releasing a live-action.

Next, we have the ghost ship: both characters have or will die during or before the story. Permission to cry about these kinda ships – granted. Examples include Jyn and Cassian, from Rouge One.

Now we come to the greatest and most painful ships of all. The Titanic. These are the ships with heartbreak. These are the ships where the characters love each other, but one has to leave. The ships where they just don’t work, but they still love each other. And these are the ships, where one character dies, and the other is left broken. They never move on. Or should I say, their heart will go on? Obviously, an example of this is Titanic, but other examples are The Hunch Back of Notre Dame but not the Disney version, the Victor Hugo one where Esmeralda hangs. And Captain America, the first one, where he dies and wakes up like 70 years later.

Secondly, The Worthy Death…

Okay, so we have all cried watching a character die before. It’s just hard man. But have you ever watched a show where a really cool, strong character that’s gonna save the day, just chokes on a cashew and dies? No, you probably haven’t, why? Because it's dumb. But, have you watched a movie where they ride into battle on their white stallion and save the day, but they end up dying after they have won the battle? Yes, most probably. Because they are worthy of a good death. Maybe, they have been living in boundaries and they finally break free. Or the figure out how to win and then die in the arms of their first love, (I’m still in mourning over the second last episode of Teen Wolf season 3). Or maybe this character dies saving their child, and then the child goes on to save the day. RIP Stoic.

Now most writers will always give their characters appropriate endings, because well. We authors love our characters. Only a few authors don’t do this, and even fewer don’t do and the story is still pretty good. So, I’m here to tell you that if a character that is really cool and strong, that dies too quickly and it just doesn’t seem right, then it probably isn’t. Okay. That character just might show up again. Especially if this is in a supernatural world and the character that died is supernatural.

This is also relevant to villains. Because they come back sometimes too.

Thirdly the Spark…

Killing off a character is hard, especially when we have put so much effort into shaping and developing the character, giving them some of our own traits. It hurts authors a lot more than it may hurt you. Trust. But sometimes, we can’t do anything about it. Why? because of the spark! The spark is the original idea. It’s the thing that makes you write the story. If this means that a character has to die, or the ship doesn’t work. Then that means it’s gonna be a sad story. Changing the spark is like changing the constitution. You need to really think hard about it.

Now here is a warning, playlists are useful as well as dangerous. I am the kind of person who likes to make a playlist for every story (and sometimes every chapter) I write and listen to it while writing. Playlists have gotten through many a writing block, and they are great for inspiration. However, if you add the wrong song, all hell can break loose. Let me give you an example where I almost killed a character. We all have a sad Viking funeral song, right? Well, I was listening to mine, (The Sun in the Stream, Enya) and, well, the ship almost hit an iceberg. Luckily, I was saved by a happy love song, (Dreams, The Cranberries).

You could kill or save characters, going completely against the spark. You could add fluff where there is supposed to be a fight scene. You could add angst in a perfectly good and healthy relationship. Music is a powerful influence, so I beg all of you, be wise with your Spotify playlists. And consult a friend before changing a spark.

Moving on, I bring you the Hogwarts Guide to Relationships…

Each relationship can be categorized into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. And please don’t be offended by this. If you are a Gryffindor in a Slytherin relationship than good on you. I’m not the sorting hat.

Let’s start off with a good ol’ Gryffindor relationship. This is usually canon. It is the main character and the main character. They’re high-school enemies. They hate each other because they are rivals, they are both exceedingly attractive. Then they are put in a difficult situation and they have to work their way out… together. And they fall in love and yeah. It's cliché. They are the super-heroes. They both are really nice bubbly people. They cannot be bad guys, they just can’t. Okay, it’s not in the job description. They will go through at least one difficult situation, but they will come out on top.

Moving on, Ravenclaw relationship. It’s simple, it can be canon or not. They like each other. They are the main character’s older sibling and their partner. Either that or they are the bad guy. They are kinda great because they are genuine with each other. They are also goals. They may break up once, but they got back together so it’s fine. Not many people ship them, but that’s only because they want to be in the place of one of them. They have a strong trust and are very close. They have some kind of telepathy, and it’s not even creepy. You’re not sure if you can trust them, but you know they would die for each other. They are oddly wise and are constantly giving good advice. They can get you out of any situation, cos they know people. If they are good, then they kind of live in the grey area. They play cards and both have a good polka face. They could be evil, but they are evil together. I ship this, this is my OTP, leave me alone, pls.

Hufflepuff relationships: cute, fluffy, friendly, cute. They are happy, they love each other. These are two content individuals who are on their first and only relationship because they are hardcore canon and they will be married. One bought the other a dog for their birthday. Either a dog a cat or a turtle. Everyone ships them, even though they can be kind of annoying because they are so cute. You want the best for them. One does medieval sword fighting and the other does every martial-arts and you are impressed…. and very surprised. They are all the love languages, and teasing isn’t a love language, so it’s forbidden in their cute Christmas log cabin. This should not be taken as an offence to any Hufflepuffs, I am a Hufflepuff, and TBH I would never be able to sustain a relationship like this without losing my mind.

I’m sorry I lied, there are two more. Endo-Slytherin and Exo-Slytherin.

Endo-Slytherin is basically where they are only together because it benefits them. And both know it. That’s it, they are just there for the ship name, and the milkshake they get from winning the dare. They may learn to love each other, it is possible. But for that to happen they have to develop something called feelings and love and they don’t know what that is yet.

Exo-Slytherin, the world is thrown at them and they are trying to stay strong. This is more the crap Slytherins first years throw at Gryffindor first years. Their parents hate each other, their friends hate each other. One of them is forced to leave but they hold it up long distance. Then one of them is drugged and the other one sees a picture of them cheating, but they actually aren’t, and their strong trust is tested, but they get through. This ship could sail or hit an iceberg its really up to the writer. But I feel sorry for them, they just wanna be a Hufflepuff relationship, it is really not their fault.

That’s it.

Please note, most of these points are completely original. Some of them I have discussed with my friends, @just-me764, @nana-akishima, @strawbeari2, and @dest-ai-ni. And some are just known to all. But otherwise, I put an amount of effort into writing this and I would appreciate if you used any of the terms to credit me.

Thank you for reading this!

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tristis-333 · 5 years

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Ideas for Shadows of the Phantom thieves

So I’ve been replaying Persona 5 A LOT in anticipation for Royal coming out next year. So I’ve been thinking a lot about what P5 would have been like if it had went the P4 route of having the main group going against their own personal shadows. I’ve seen a few ideas swimming around but I thought I’d share my own ideas on what the shadows of the P5 cast would have been like. Some of the themes they all have is that these shadows would be distortion forced on the cast by the world around them. They aren’t like P4 shadows where the cast has to learn to accept their shadows as a part of themselves but rather realize that the shadows isn’t their true self and that its just a distortion. They are also are all based around the seven deadly sins. It kind of bothers me that most of the palaces in p5 are just loosely based on the seven deadly sins. Really only Kamoshida, and shido fit their sins for me. Madarame is supposed to be vanity which isn’t even a capitol sin anymore and just redundant with pride. Kaneshiro is supposed to gluttony but with the bank theme he fits greed better. Likewise Okumura is supposed to be greed but he runs a food company so gluttony would have fit better. Sae isn’t so much envious of anyone as she is obsessed with winning. So I’ll be making each shadow more overtly themed around the sins.

The first palace would be Ryuji’s representing the sin of wrath. It would be a ship lost as sea in the middle of a storm, representing his electric element. His shadow in the captain of the ship, a blood thirsty pirate obsessed with pillaging and causing destruction. The shadow would have a peg leg representing Ryuji’s broken leg, and an eye patch with a skull and crossbones on it. As you go through the palace you’ll have to dodge cannon fire, and lightning strikes. The boss would be similar to an early concept of Captain Kidd, with the upper body trapped in a cage with a blade in its mouth. The peg leg has become a cannon and will fire at its ultimate attack. After the battle Ryuji confronts the shadow, saying even thought he acted in anger when he hit Kamoshida, he’s not the thug everyone has painted him to be. He might be mad, but he’ll aim that anger at the people who deserve it and not just thrash around hurting the people around him. Ryuji then rips the eyepatch off the shadow and the shadow becomes Captain Kidd and the eye patch becoming Ryuji’s mask.

The next palace would be Ann’s representing the sin of lust. The palace is a brothel with Ann’s shadow as the Madam of the house. The shadow wears a low cut dress and a large leopard spotted furcoat with a cigarette holder, think Cruella De Vil. The shadow also wears a lace and silk mask. The shadow is very flirtatious and makes claims that her body “is yours to take”. When you go through the palace you’ll meet the cognition of Shiho, who is the shadow’s “best girl”. The shadow throws Shiho to costumers of the brothel so she doesn’t have to get her hands dirty. The shadow accuses Ann of doing the same with the real Shiho, throwing her to Kamoshida so she wouldn’t have to “give up the goods”. The boss form would be of Carmen’s main body tied to the same post Kamoshida had Ann tied to. Roses and thorns cover her body like a revealing dress and she can summon “gentlemen” to assist her in battle. After she’s defeated Ann confronts the shadow and acknowledges that what happened to her and Shiho isn’t her fault. Her appearance is not an excuse for the way Kamoshida treated them, and she certainly didn’t abandon Shiho. Her body is hers and she’ll do with as she pleases. She rips the silk mask off the shadow, allowing the Shadow to become Carmen, and the silk mask turns into Ann’s.

The next palace is Yusuke’s representing greed. His palace is a museum ,very similar to Madarame’s except where Madarame’s museum was flashy and gaudy Yusukes is broken down and filthy. The windows are broken and open to the cold so as you go through the palace you’ll have to be careful of being blown away but gust of wind and frozen from the cold. Yusuke’s shadow is a shogun like Madarame’s but his make up is run down by tears. The shadow is stuck in artist rut and spends its time trying to make art. It doesn’t do this for the sake of art, but it wants income. It is desperate to cover the windows and to block out the cold but any art it tries to produce is meaningless and poorly crafted. The boss form is the portrait of Yusuke Madarame had in his palace but Yusuke’s face is stuck in the face of The Scream by Edvarch Munch. Yusuke confronts the shadow and his fear that he’ll lose sight of why he became an artist. While he may struggle to support himself he will persevere and continue to pursue true beauty in his art. He wipes the make-up off the Shadow with his hand and the shadow becomes Goemon, and the make-up on his palm becomes his mask.

Next palace is Makoto’s representing Envy. Makoto palace is a train station with her as station master. She wears a uniform and pair of tinted glasses. Despite the title, Makoto’s shadow has no control over anything that happens in the station. The trains depart without her approval and she has no choice but to follow the predetermined schedule. She is envious of the thieves who are free to come and go as they please. She feels much like a train. Impressive in its own right, but stuck on a track she can never escape from. The boss form is that of demon train with Johana’s face enraged and blindfolded. Makoto faces the shadow and vows that she will no longer allow others to control the path of her life but will decide it for herself. She takes the glasses from the shadow and crushes them in her hands. The shadow becomes Johana and the broken glasses become Makoto’s mask.

Next is Futaba’s palace representing Sloth. This one remains relatively the same only Futaba’s shadow is much more hostile. Her design now has more bandages like a mummy with them covering her face leaving only her eyes exposed. The shadow is now the distortion of Futaba’s memories and fully believes she’s responsible for her mother’s death. She wishes to just lie down and rot away, to be left to die in her tomb. Instead of fighting Futaba’s cognition of her mother, you fight the shadow. It takes the form of a large sarcophagus with a gargoyle face, and tentacles trying to push themselves out from the edge. Futaba confronts her shadow after the battle and it plays out much the same as in the original. She unwraps the bandages from her shadow’s face and the shadow becomes Necronomicon and the bandages become Futaba’s mask.

Next is Haru’s palace representing gluttony. The palace is a wedding venue being held in a giant wedding cake. You’ll have to make your way up the stacks of the cake to face Haru’s shadow who is the bride at the top. Haru’s shadow wears a wedding dress with a veil covering her face. Haru’s shadow sees herself not as bride, but as a gift to the groom. She exists to be given away and she’s fine with that so long as she can indulge in the pleasures her life gives her, even if that pleasure comes at the expense of her father’s workers. The bride gorges on wedding cake and ignores the cries of the workers and guest who suffer at the hands of her father and betrothed. The boss form is giant empty wedding dress bound in ribbons and bows like a gift. Since the dress is empty, there is no head instead a large ribbon. When Haru confronts the shadow she vows to not ignore her father’s corruption, or to allow herself to be used as a bargaining chip. She tears the veil away from the bride and it becomes Milady and the veil becomes her mask.

Last is Morgana representing pride. Since Morgana was created in Mementos it serves as his palace so to speak. When you reach the beginning of the end of Mementos, a yellow eye morgana is waiting for you. It reveals that Morgana is not a human but, as it puts it, a creature born within Mementos. Morgana is unable to handle the idea that he’s some creature, a beastly thing with no semblance of humanity. His pride won’t allow him to accept it. He pleads that he has to be human. He tries to summon Zorro to destroy the other Morgana but Zorro loses control and begins to shift and change. It takes the form a large black tiger with velvet blue stripes. It is chained around the neck and guards the gates to the depths of Mementos. The thieves manage to defeat it and Morgana reclaims his memory finally. He manages to find peace with his existent, not human, but not some wild creature either. The beast shift back into Zorro, but then immediately becomes Mercurius.

So those are my ideas for the shadows of the phantom thieves. The protagonist doesn’t get one as ,like with P4’s protagonist and Adachi, I feel the role of the protagonist’s “shadow” goes to Akechi as he represents a lot of the opposites to Joker. But what do you guys think?

#persona 5 #persona 5 the royal #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #yusuke kitawaga #makoto niijima #haru okumaru #morgana #seven deadly sins #shadows

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50funny · 5 years

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Mage- Chapter 13: Test The Third (Part 2)

Written By 50Funny

Part 1- Master And Student

There are two exits to my arena, the one to my left leads to a short and easy path to the end. On the right, a long arduous journey. You will fight each other in one on one battles, the exact nature of each battle will be chosen by the team victorious in the last. The first team to rack up three victories will win. Alright now enough talking, let’s see some carnage, hehe,” 8 giggled.

A thick tension filled the air as Alex and his group waited to see what their next challenge would be.

“I would like to nominate myself for the first duel,” said the elderly gentleman wearing an elegant dark blue robe.

“Huh, no objections here,” replied the scrawny man next to him.

The elderly man began to stride across the bridge, his hands locked behind his back in a proper manner. He stopped as he reached the centre of the arena.

“I am relatively new to this whole magic thing; I would like to test the skills I have obtained so far. I propose a battle of pure magic, no other weapons or tools allowed to pervert our magic skills,” explained the man. “Now, who is willing to face me?”

“Let me do this,” Tobin said, his voice thick with determination.

“Be my guest,” said Alex.

Tobin strode out into the arena, confidently facing off his opponent.

“Ahh, so you are to be my opponent then. I look forward to our battle,” the man said bowing to his opponent.

“I look forward to our battle as well, however if I may, I would like to suggest a change to the parameters of our duel. I would ask for an axe on axe battle.”

“Hmmm, a battle of the axe. I am willing to accept your proposal, however I shall give you a chance to reconsider,” the man said reaching his arm out to the side.

A silver cloud began to swirl around the man’s hand. The cloud grew thicker and deeper in colour as it began to solidify into a long axe.

“I have trained in the way of the axe my entire life. I am the founder of the Tarkan Axe Arts and have trained many master axe wielders. I am the Legendary…”

“Ramond of Steel Lake, I know who you are,” Tobin interrupted.

“Oh, and you still wish to duel me in this manner?” Ramond responded in surprise.

Tobin began to roll up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a tattoo of a battle axe with a head on either end of the shaft facing in opposite directions.

“Oh I see, you’re a student of the Tarkan Axe Arts,”

“That I am. While I am willing to battle your way, I would be remiss if I didn’t take this opportunity to test my skills against a true master,” Tobin said bowing in respect.

“Haha, as I said I’m here to test my magical skills, but who am I to deny a fan.”

Ramond spun his axe around his head catching it in his other hand taking up a battle stance. Tobin reached behind him, unclipping his axe from his back taking up a similar stance.

Part 2- Clash Of The Axes

In the blink of an eye, Ramond sprung forward through the air towards Tobin. He slammed his axe down with all his might towards Tobin’s head. In the nick of time, Tobin raised his axe up blocking the attack with the shaft.

“Good reflexes,” Ramond congratulated.

Ramond pulled his axe away from Tobin winding up a swipe. He swung his axe at Tobin’s arm. Tobin quickly ducked down rolling to the side underneath the head of the axe. He stood back up letting out a swift swing of his own. Ramond jumped up high above Tobin’s blade, back flipping behind him. Ramond sent his palm flying into Tobin’s back at full force before, he had a chance to react, sending him Tobin flying across the arena.

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” said Ramond.

Tobin pulled himself up from the ground and looked over to his axe laying on the ground next to him. He reached out grabbing it as he stood. Tobin launched himself towards Ramond at full speed his axe wound up for a strike behind his head. As he drew closer to he let his axe loose. Ramond slammed his own axe down towards Tobin. Suddenly Tobin changed the trajectory of his axe hooking Ramond’s with the arch arched underside of the blade.

“Huh what? Raymond exclaimed.

With a hearty pull, Tobin sent Ramond’s blade flying through the air landing firmly in the stone wall surrounding the arena. 8 looked down from her vantage point on the wall above the arena. She lifted her gaze from the axe back to the battle continuing on below.

“Hehe. This is simply delightful,” 8 said smiling devilishly.

Tobin continued letting loose an unending flurry of blows at Ramond. He ducked and dogged between the swings, narrowly avoiding Tobin’s axe. Ramond reached out his hand grabbing Tobin’s axe in midair as it came crashing down towards his head. He sent his leg flying into Tobin’s chest sending him crashing to the ground. Tobin’s axe dropped from his hand as he hit the ground. Ramond spun his axe around in his hand before sending it flying down towards Tobin’s head. Tobin clenched his eyes tightly as he prepared for the end. A long silence filled the arena as everyone looked on. Tobin opened his eyes back up seeing the head of the axe mere centimeters away from his face.

“Huh… what,” Tobin exclaimed in confusion.

“Haha, good fight, you gave me quite the run for my money for a moment there,” Ramond chuckled.

Ramond lowered the axe to the ground and extended his other hand out to help Tobin up. He looked down in shame as he reached out his hand and began to stand.

“I… I failed,” huffed Tobin.

“Oh no, don’t think of this as a failure, think of it as the gateway to future successes.”

Tobin’s ears perked up as he heard Ramond’s words.

“Wh… what are you talking about?” Asked Tobin.

“I can sense the makings of a great axeman. Given time I may even be able to mould you into a master.”

“Are… are you saying you’ll make me your student,” Tobin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Ramond turned around and began walking back to his group.

“I expect to see you at the Steel Lake Dojo, after I’ve become a mage of course,” Ramond smiled.

“Yes... Of course master,” Tobin bowed, barely able to hold in his excitement.

Part 3- One / Zero

8 looked on as the two fighters crossed the bridge returning to their groups.

“Wonderful, just wonderful,” 8 said, raising her hand into the air.

8 let out a loud click. Suddenly a small chalkboard with the two team’s names written at the top each half of the board. A small piece of chalk appeared in her hand. She reached out drawing a vertical line on the board. Ramond arrived back at his group.

“Alright, good job , way to go guy. You beat that dumbass down,” congratulated the scrawny man at the front of the group.

Ramond stopped and turned around to face the arena again.

“That boy has more honour in defeat than you ever will,” Ramond said.

“Ha, whatever,” the scrawny man scoffed.

Tobin Made his way back to his group, heaving deep breaths as he walked.

“What the hell man, you lost us the match!” Timothy yelled.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Tobin said, propping himself up against the nearby wall.

“Hey, c… come on he tried his best,” Cecilia muttered.

“Yeah whatever,” grumbled Timothy.

From across the room came a thickly accented voice.

“I am next,” bellowed the voice.

The group looked across the arena at the large, wide, muscle bound man stomping across the bridge. The bridge buckled and swayed under the weight of the massive man. He arrived on the other side, stopping as he reached the arena.

“I am Irwan. In homeland, we settle disagreement with wrestling. So we wrestle. So who is brave enough to face mighty Irwan,” bellowed Irwan.

“There is no way I’m going out there,” stated Timothy.

Puffs lifted his puffer to his mouth and took a deep breath as he began to approach the bridge.

“Umm,” Alex said reaching out and grabbing Puff’s shoulder. “No offence but I don’t think this battle is the right fit for you.”

“Although,” Alex thought as he looked around his group. “None of these guys really seem all that capable. Do we even have a chance at beating these guys? Should I take this guy on and guarantee us one point? Or can I trust these guys and save my involvement for later.”

Cecilia raised her hand into the air, breaking Alex’s concentration.

“Umm, if it’s alright with everyone, I’ll take him on,” Cecilia murmured.

“Yeah right. Like you could take that monster on,” Timothy hissed.

Alex looked at Cecilia intently, trying to gauge the extent of her ability.

“Cecilia… do you really think you can do this?” Alex said in a serious tone.

Cecilia awkwardly shifted her gaze down.

“Well… um,” Cecilia stuttered before clenching her fists tightly. “Yes, I mean, yes I think I can.”

“Ok then.”

Cecilia nodded before walking off down the bridge towards the arena.

“Huh… what, no way man, you’re going to let her take him on?” Timothy gasped his mouth agape. agape seems odd?

“Yep, unless you wanna do it?”

Cecilia walked out into the arena staring down Irwan.

“Haha, you want to fight me little girl? I give you chance to reconsider.”

Cecilia looked on at Irwan, unfazed by his words. Irwan set himself firmly on the ground. He raised his foot up before sending it crashing down again. The ground shook underneath Irwan’s foot. A small lip of stone began to form encircling the pair. Cecilia continued to look on at Irwan unfazed by his display.

“You leave circle, you lose, understand,” Irwan stated. “Unless I crush you first. Enough talk!..”

Part 4- Immovable Object

Irwan suddenly kicked off the ground running towards Cecilia, shaking the ground with every impact. Cecilia stood completely motionless staring down Irwan as he ran.

“What the hell are you doing?” yelled Timothy from the sidelines. “Move, run… Do something!”

Cecilia continued to stand unmoving in the face of her oncoming foe. Irwan tucked his head into his arm ?? as he charged, preparing for impact. Irwan made contact with Cecilia, sending a loud thud echoing through the air. The two teams looked on in disbelief at the fight unfolding in front of them. Irwan shifted his gaze up to Cecilia.

“Impossible!” Irwan exclaimed.

Irwan backed away from Cecilia. She stood undamaged, still as a statue staring back at Irwan with unblinking eyes. Her body and clothes had turned a light grey and had gained the texture of some sort of stone.

“Huh, what the hell just happened?” Timothy exclaimed.

“Oh, I see. She has the power to change her body into some sort of hard stone, increasing her weight and hardness,” Bip explained.

8 stared down at the unfolding battle from her vantage point.

“Hmmm, this could be interesting,” 8 murmured.

“Come out little girly!” Irwan shouted.

Cecilia continued to stand motionless. Irwan growled, enraged by her blank, taunting stare.

“Arghhhh! I will crush you little girly!” Irwan screamed.

Irwan stomped quickly over to Cecilia, winding his fist back preparing to strike. He let loose his blow, landing square on her face. There was a brief silence before it was suddenly broken by Irwan’s loud screams of pain. He gritted his teeth in anger as he began to growl ferociously.

“Face me like man, little girl!” Irwan shouted out before unleashing a frenzy of mindless blows.

Irwan continued to pummel Cecilia’s stone tomb, ignoring the pain his body was experiencing.

“This is perfect, at this rate he’ll get too exhausted to keep fighting,” Timothy said. “Go Cecilia! Whoop this punk’s butt!” he cheered.

Irwan let out a series of heavy deep pants as he stoped his onslaught. He looked down towards his bloodied and broken knuckles.

“Arghhhhhhh!” Irwan shouted in frustration, stomping his foot down to the ground.

As Irwan’s foot made contact with the ground the arena began to quake. Irwan raised his other foot before stomping it down, sending out yet another quake. As the ground shook beneath them, it began to tilt. Irwan continued to stomp tilting the arena more and more. As the ground tilted, Cecilia immobile body began to slip down. Her body passed over the stone lip marking the boundary of the arena.

“Damn it!” Timothy yelled.

Cecilia continued to slip down the arena towards the edge.

“Hu, What? He’s not stopping,” Tobin yelled in shock.

Irwan continued to stomp, smiling fiendishly as he watched Cecilia slip towards the edge of the platform.

“Haha… bye bye annoying girly,” Irwan taunted.

Cecilia’s body teetered on the edge over the abyss bellow before falling down into the depths. The group looked down in shock as Cecilia’s body fell.

“That’s enough!” came 8’s voice as she jumped down into the arena.

8 held her arm out towards Cecilia’s body. Cecilia began to hover up from the abyss flailing around and panting heavily with a blue glow around her. She began to hover towards the rest of the group. The blue glow suddenly dissipated dropping Cecilia gently to the ground. 8 looked over to Irwan, a serious expression burnt on her face.

“You’ve won. Get back to your group.”

Irwan stared down at 8, letting out a furious grunt before turning around and stomping back across the bridge. 8 let out a loud huff.

“Now to fix this up.”

8 lifted up her foot, sending it crashing down to the ground. The arena began to once again flatten out.

“Wow, good job big boy,” yelled the scrawny man.

The man looked across the arena towards the other team.

“Scores getting pretty tight there, we won’t blame you if you just give up now,” the man taunted.

Tobin gritted his teeth as he locked eyes with the man across the arena.

“Shut up,” grumbled Tobin.

“I… I’m sorry… I really thought I could beat him,” Cecilia stuttered.

“Yeah whatever, I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you with that,” Timothy snarled.

Alex looked on at his group as Timothy stormed off into the corner.

“At this rate, we don’t have a chance of getting through this,” thought Alex.

Part 5- Coming Night

The scrawny man looked up to the sky as the sun began to set behind the mountain. He let out a slight hum as he thought. The man stepped towards the edge of the platform looking across the arena.

“I have a proposal for you!” the man yelled.

Alex’s team shifted their gaze across the gap to the man.

“I’m sure we're all tired, plus those two losers you got could use the time to heal up. How about we continue this in the morning?”

Ramond walked up to the man grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around.

“What the hell are you doing, we need all the time we can get,” Ramond scold.

The scrawny man looked with distain at Raymond’s hand resting on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry old man, I know what I’m doing,” the scrawny man replied as he removed Ramond’s hand from his shoulder.

Tobin raised his injured body up from the ground.

“We need to get a move on, we don’t have time to waste resting.”

Alex looked over Tobin’s injured body before glancing over to Cecilia who seemed even quieter and more timid than usual. Timothy stood by himself, his back to the rest of the group stewing In his own anger.

“I don’t like it either, but I think we could all use the rest. If we keep going tonight we don’t have any chance of beating them,” said Alex.

Tobin looked down to the ground before raising his gaze to Alex again.

“If that’s what you think is best,” Tobin said before turning around and limping back to his resting spot.

Alex looked back across the gap, nodding back at the scrawny man.

“Wonderful, we can finish you off in the morning then,” the man taunted turning back around to his group.

Alex group began setting up their area for the night, the strain of their defeats weighing heavily on the group.

Part 6- Growing tensions

Liz and Es stood lit by the dim twilight, once more looking up at the long elevator shaft leading down into the maze.

“This is insane, they must be using magic or something,” Liz exclaimed.

“If they were using magic we would be able to sense it. We need to go around again,” Es replied turning around to walk down the path.

“Are you serious, we’ve been around five times already! And I don’t know about you, but I didn’t see any secret exit?”

Es clenched his fist tightly before turning around and stalking towards Liz.

“We aren’t gonna get anywhere discussing it!” Es snarled.

“Oh yeah, cause your plan’s working a charm,” Liz growled back.

Es stared down Liz, holding back his anger. He looked up to the sky as the sun continued to set.

“It’s getting dark, we should get some rest.” Es hissed turning back away from Liz.

“Rest? Are you kidding me?” Liz exclaimed. “We haven’t made any progress yet, we’ve wasted the entire day and you wanna rest?”

“Look It’s already cold at this altitude, and once that sun's gone it’s just gonna get colder.”

“Is it really that cold?” Liz said in surprise.

“Are you kidding, it’s freezing. We’re not gonna get anywhere if we’re frozen and exhausted, we should rest now and continue in the morning.”

Es raised his hand up towards the nearby wall. Suddenly a small tent appeared in front of Es. He unzipped the front of the tent before walking inside.

“For once would you just listen to…” Liz’s words were cut off as Es zipped up the tent.

Liz growled at the tent before turning around and walking to the opposite side of the path. Liz laid on the rocky floor staring off into the sky for a moment before closing her eye’s and drifting off to an uneasy sleep.

________________________________________________________________ Thank you for reading chapter 13 of mage. If you like what you see consider checking out my AO3 at this link https://archiveofourown.org/users/50Funny to see all new chapter 3 days early. If you feel so inclined please consider following my tumblr for all updates and other tid bits. Until next week, have a good day.

#Mage #Chapter 13 #Magic #Story #Original Story #50Funny

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killscreencinema · 5 years

Text

Samurai Shodown (Neo Geo)

youtube

The year is 1638 and feudal Japan is in chaos due to the resurrection of demonic sorcerer named Amakusa, who was executed by the shogunate for rebellion and his Christian beliefs. Wait hold on... the bad guy in this game is a Christian martyr? Not only that, he was based on a REAL LIFE Christian martyr??? Apparently so...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amakusa_Shir%C5%8D

Yikes. It almost makes me feel bad for defeating him in the game... almost.

Anyway, you plays as one of 12 warriors from all over the world who converge on Japan for their own various reasons to put Amakusa back into the ground where he belongs.

One of the most notable aspects of Samurai Shodown when it was released by SNK in 1993 is that it was one of the first, if not THE first fighting game where all of the characters use weapons! Up till then, the only fighting game character I could think of that used a weapon was Vega from Street Fighter II and man was that mindblowing the first time you fight him. “Whoa! This guy has a CLAW?? HOW IS THAT FAIR??? DOES IT DO MORE DAMAGE????”

Answers: Yes he does. Not it’s not. No it doesn’t.

In Samurai Shodown, on the otherhand, weapons do a great DEAL of damage, as they should, if you hit your opponent *just right*. The game plays like any other fighting game, with a zooming mechanic similar to Art of Fighting and a power meter that increases your strength once full (which is kind of lame, as a standard super move would be preferable). Occasionally during the fight you’ll get locked into a brief tug-o-war which can disarm either you or your opponent, lowering your offensive capability. On this, my only complaint here is when one is disarmed in the game, that should make you effectively vulnerable to every weapon attack whether you block or not. I never felt like I gained much of an advantage over my opponent after taking away their weapon.

Like most SNK fighting games of the time, Samurai Shodown is incredibly difficult, though fair. I never felt like the computer AI was being cheap, with maybe the exception of Amakusa frequently using his teleport (especially when the clock is running low and he has more health than you). The characters are really well designed and distinct, some of them based on either real life historical figures, heroes of legend, or Japanese folklore. Honestly, besides the novelty of getting to use swords, I was always drawn to Samurai Shodown back in the day because I loved the character design.

I also have an odd memory of entering an art competition to win an arcade cabinet of the game. I believe it was for GamePro magazine and I drew a fully colored picture of Hoahmaru. I wish I still had it to post here but the shitty part of entering any art contest, especially one that you don’t win, is you don’t get the picture back. :(

Replaying the game today, it still holds up, although it still feels sluggish like a lot of early SNK fighting games do. As mentioned before, the game is still very challenging, even on normal, so expect to rage quit... a lot. Especially when you continually lose against the likes of Earthquake, a fat bandit from Texas who has a move where he shoves your face into his butt and farts. It’s bad enough to lose a close battle with this guy, but to suffer that indignity as the move that beats you is insult to injury! Also... not to be a history nerd... but Texas wasn’t a state in 1638, nor did the United States even exist yet for that matter. The game plays fast and loose with the real world timeline though, I suppose, so its forgivable... until you beat the game with the main character, Haohmaru, and it ends with dueling Mai Shiranui from Fatal Fury, which is set in modern times.

Is this maybe a Shiranui ancestor? Or did the gravitational pull created from the force it takes to keep Mai’s breasts from spilling out create a wormhole through time and space? I guess we’ll never know.

#samurai shodown #samurai spirits #neo geo #snk #arcade #video games #fighting games #Japan #haohmaru #mai shiranui #retro gaming

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cinderellaahhh · 3 years

Text

FIND TEAM NAMES

🏐🏐🏐🏐Funny Volleyball Team Names

1. Hit For Brains – Definitely not the smartest team out there.

2. Size Matters – Only if you’re short... or small, even.

3. Beavis and Bumphead – After Beavis and Butthead.

4. Ball Busters – The ball won’t be the same shape after playing this team.

5. Phantom Balls – Now you see them, now you don’t.

6. Setsaholics Anonymous – They’re going to sets you up.

7. Block Magic – After the South Park episode Cock Magic.

8. ACME Roofing – There won’t be a roof for long when you play this team.

9. Balls In Your Face – That’s got to be painful.

10. Safe Sets – How sets should be.

11. Practice Safe Sets – Practice every

day.

12. Where’s My Beaches At? – At the

beach?

13. How I Set Your Mother – Do tell.

14. The Dirty Half Dozen – Nice and filthy.

15. Hit Head – Why score points when you

can reduce your rivals’ brain cells?

16. Sand Eaters – They have a habit of

falling over.

17. Donald Bump – Bumping away

ignorantly of the rest of the world.

18. Nine Inch Males – So small?

19. Heads In The Sand – Stay away from

danger!

20. Good Volley Ms. Molly – Why thank

you!

21. Clever Beaches – Get ready to be

outsmarted.

22. Sand In The Vaseline – I’m sure

they’re having a great time at the

beach.

23. The Fighting Amish – Playing the old-

fashioned way.

24. Ball Bangers – Hitting balls a little too

hard.

25. Bros And Hoes – For a mixed team.

26. Public Sets Offenders – They’re not

allowed near certain places.

27. The Blair Hits Project – Getting

beaten by them is like a horror movie.

28. Ball Whisperers – They’ll get that ball

to go anywhere they want.

29. Setsy Time – After Borat’s

catchphrase.

30. Natural Disasters – It’s totally normal

for this team to lose.

31. Kinky Sets – The best kind of sets.

32. Men In Speedos – They make

everyone at the beach feel awkward.

33. Net Servers – For a techie crowd.

34. Touch And Go – Win some, lose some.

35. Caution! Low Roof! – About to leap

into space!

36. Wild Sets – These guys are passionate

about sets.

37. This Won’t Take Long – Beating their

rivals in seconds... or are they the ones

who get beaten?

38. The Joy Of Sets – Gotta love good

sets.

39. Set ‘Em Hussein – After Saddam

Hussein.

40. Spike Me Hard, Baby – It’s the only

way it should be done.

41. Setting Ducks – They have no idea

what they’re doing here.

42. Will Work For Sets – Nothing wrong

with that.

43. We Need Sets – We all do!

44. Hits Don’t Lie – After My Hips Don’t

Lie by Shakira.

45. Kiss My Ace – With pleasure.

46. Thongs And Dongs – Another perfect

name for a mixed team.

47. All Net – A team with no chance of

scoring.

48. The Blazing Sunburns – You’ll spot

this team a mile away.

49. Team Ibuprofen – They may be a little

sickly.

50. A Case Of The Hits – The only illness

that’s guaranteed to help you win.

51. Chicks With Digs – Why can’t chicks

have digs?

52. Trump’s Wall – Non–existent then?

53. Sonova Beach – Say it fast...

54. Sets With A Stranger – Players, 100%.

55. I’ve Seen Better Digging In A

Graveyard – Ouch!

56. Sand Castles – They might get a little

distracted.

57. We Showed Up – To what? To lose?

58. Chewblocka – After Chewbacca from

Star Wars.

59. Itsy Bitsy Spikers – Too cute to be

taken seriously.

60. Drunk, Stupid and Clumsy – And

honest.

61. Spiky Nips – For a girls’ team that’s got

that perfect spike.

62. Full Of Hits – They talk a lot of crap.

63. The Powerpuff Girls – Great for a girl

team made of three.

64. Setsy And We Know It – And so does

everyone else.

65. Unprotected Sets – Not advisable.

66. Big Swinging Ds And Ts – Another

name for a mixed team.

67. Go Sets Yourself – Just not on the

beach.

68. Johan Sebastian Block – Composing

a win!

69. Scared Hitless – Is what the other

team will be!

70. Death Volley – Wordplay on Death

Valley.

71. Hit And Miss – Haven’t quite got the

hang of this game yet have you guys?

72. 2 Legit 2 Hit – Well at least you have a

reason...

73. One Hit Wonders – Will score and it

will be amazing, but only once.

74. We Like Big Balls – Big balls are more

fun.

75. You’ve Been Served – Will be in court

right after this game.

76. We Dig 4-Play – Looking for another

team that also enjoys a bit of 4-play.

77. Vertically Challenged – For a team of

shorties.

78. Salad Tossers – Good at throwing

things around.

79. Sand Slingers – Why play fairly and

lose when you could play dirty and win?

80. Not In The Face! – These team will

definitely get hit hard in the face.

81. Setsy Ladies – All the guys on the

beach are looking at them.

82. Bumping Uglies – Not the most

handsome team in the world.

83. Interracial Sets – For a team made up

of people of different racial

backgrounds.

84. Here For The Exercise – Not the most

athletic team.

85. That’s What She Sets – Wordplay on

the phrase ‘that’s what she said’.

86. Smack Your Balls – Painful.

87. Butt Sets – Kinky.

88. If Pigs Could Fly – A team of fat guys

who can jump amazingly high for their

size.

89. Wild Wings – Wordplay on the song

Wild Thing by The Troggs.

90. Sets On The Beach – A dream come

true.

91. Sloppy Sets – They need a bit of

practice.

92. Just The Tip – They’re gentle.

93. Ain’t That A Beach – It certainly is.

94. Six Packs – Great stomachs or a pack

of six beers?

95. Court Jesters – More interested in

making the audience laugh than

winning.

96. Couch Potatoes – They really get this

much exercise.

97. Sets Pistols – After the band The Sex

Pistols.

98. We’re All HIV Positive – And proud.

99. Blue Balls – You guys all need to get to

a doctor immediately.

100. Red Hot Silly Peppers – Another

bunch of comedians.

Cool Volleyball Team Names

A cool team deserves a cool name, the following are cool volleyball team names you can call your team.

101. The Tidal Waves – Invading the entire beach.

102. SWAT Team – Swatting that ball out of the way.

103. Score More – Than the other team.

104. Mission Unblockable – No ball gets

past them.

105. Cobra Kai – After the martial arts team

in The Karate Kid.

106. Atomic Block – Blasting that ball away!

107. Shaken, Not Stirred – Just like 007.

108. We Always Get Up – When this team

gets knocked down, they’re quick to get

back on their feet.

109. Big Digs And Hot Passes – You know

what to expect.

110. Arm And Hammer – For a tough team.

111. In Your Face – Winning and damn proud.

112. Bump It Up – That ball will never touch the ground.

113. Net Domination – The other team will never even get it past the net.

114. Soaring At The Net – Where they play best.

115. Air Force One – After the US presidents private jet.

116. In Motion – They can’t stop moving.

117. On Your Knees – The other team will

be...

118. That Hurt? – It probably did if it came

from this team.

119. Spin Doctors – They always think

they’re winning, even when they’re not.

120. On Fire – Just unstoppable.

121. Spider Chicks – They can reach

anything.

122. Net Results – Scoring at the net.

123. Killer Serves – The other team will be

flabbergasted.

124. Sabretooth Spikers – Aggressive

spikes, to say the least.

125. Pure Energy – The other team won’t

know where you get it from.

126. Attack Pack – They play like animals.

127. Hanging Loose – The most relaxed

volleyball team you’ll ever meet.

128. Prime Time Players – A team that’s

playing in its prime.

129. Gung-Ho – Ready for just about

anything.

130. Block Or Bleed – The other team will

be too afraid to do anything.

131. Bump, Set, Dismember – After they

beat you, they’ll cut you up.

132. Hit Me – If you dare.

133. Lightning Strike – When they hit that

ball they light up the sky.

134. Planet Volleywood – So good they

should be famous.

135. It’s Gotta Be Da Shoes – Nope, they

just play amazingly.

136. Now Serving – So get ready to lose.

137. Bumping Maniacs – Addicted to

bumping.

138. Elite Volleyball – The absolute best.

139. Set To Kill – The other team.

140. Sonic Boom – You can hear them

hitting that ball from space.

141. I’d Hit That – You really should.

142. Death At The Net – There isn’t a worse

way to die.

143. The Wall – No balls get past them.

144. Volley Girls – Girls who own this game.

145. The Lost Boys – Unruly savages.

146. Extreme Volleyball – Volleyball isn’t

supposed to be a leisurely sport, it

should be hardcore.

147. EZ Pass – Making the other team look

like amateurs.

148. That’s Some Serve – You bet it is!

149. Sand People – After the fictional

characters in Star Wars.

150. Hit-men – Hired to assassinate the

other team.

151. See Ya – Wouldn’t wanna be ya!

152. Block You Like A Hurricane – After

the song “Rock You like a Hurricane” by

The Scorpions.

153. Game On – Yeah, winning is great, but

these guys just love playing.

154. Court Hogs – Loving the game so

much, they won’t let anyone else on the

court.

155. Volley Vipers – They’ve got a bite

that’ll kill.

156. High–Performance Volleyball – Don’t

even think about playing this team

unless you’re in the same league.

157. Air Traffic Control – Spectators can be

forgiven for thinking that ball was a

plane.

158. Speedy Spikers – Fast and very spiky.

159. Flight Fight – Known to hit balls in mid-

air.

160. Team World Class – Should really be

playing in the Olympics.

161. Net Ninjas – Assassinating that ball

whenever it gets to the net.

162. Net Assets – They’re owning the

game.

163. White Lightning – Striking out the

other team.

164. The Challengers – They make the

other team want to play better.

165. Volleyball Above All – It is a way of

life.

166. All Set At The Net – Can’t pass this

defense.

167. It’s A Hard Bump Life – It is.

168. The WildCats – The most vicious team

you’ll play against.

169. Vision Quest – Playing to reach a

higher power.

170. Monster Spikes – Those are some mean spikes

#volleyball

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kpopfanfictrash · 7 years

Text

Sidhe (V)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin / Namjoon

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Fantasy, Fey!AU / Royalty!AU

Word Count: 5,869

Description: In the land of Humankind and the Otherworld, the Fey and Humans live side by side. Cursed are the Fey though, unable to use their own magic without a human wishing it so. You were born and raised to end this curse, to take down the system - so what happens when the Human you’re bound to, ends up becoming so much more?

My stomach drops, realizing here is my proof. Here is the certainty that all human beings are evil. My father’s views appear at once, both valid and necessary. As I blow out the candle, I slide further beneath my covers and try to feel vindicated by this.

My father is right. I am right. This course is right.

That night though, I dream of tears. A river, which turns to blood at my feet.

I’m informed by a palace worker the next morning that Jimin has already left for the practice room, despite it only being half past eight. I hurry to get dressed, cursing his damn human punctuality. A crucial power play, one I’ve lost the advantage of. When I arrive ten minutes later, stumbling over myself, I take a small moment to steel myself outside the doors. Whatever today will bring, I can handle it.

“Hello, Your Majesty,” I intone, stepping over the threshold.

“We’re back to that, are we?” Jimin stares striaght ahead, eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

He’s not wearing a shirt. He’s – oh, shit, I swallow. His shirt is off, and I force myself to look away. Not before noticing the light sheen of his chest though, as if Jimin has been practicing in here for hours. He balances the knife carefully in his palm, weighing his options.

When Jimin throws, the movement is sure and straight. I can tell a perfect mark before it lands, and Jimin strikes dead center of the bull’s eye. He turns then, smiling faintly when he meets my gaze. I don’t return his happiness, brushing past him to stand at the weapons rack.

“I’m not sure why we’re here,” I say to him, offhand. “In my experience, weapons tend to tear people apart – not bring them together.” Picking up a spear, I consider the weight. It might be fun, to fight Prince Jimin with a spear.

Behind me, Jimin leans an arm against the practice target, pulling his knife free from straw. “I see you’ve not trained with other men,” he grunts, turning to face me. “I’ve found it forms a bond, once that’s completely unparalleled.”

“Only men?” I muse, looking up from the weaponry.

“Only having trained with men, that’s all I can vouch for.” Jimin grabs his shirt, tugging it over his chest. “But I’m certain the theory can be applied elsewhere,” he winks.

I make a face, turning away. As I move to leave, I nearly crash into someone. Dropping my spear hastily towards my feet, the weapon falling heads over tails in midair. The newcomer catches this easily, handing me back my weapon in one, smooth motion.

“Thank you,” I bow to him, cheeks flushed bright.

When I look up, I see he is Fey. Green eyes are slightly clouded with age and I wonder if he’s blind, before he turns to survey us both. His gaze lands on Jimin, and I suppose this answers my earlier question “My name is Eon,” he announces softly. “I will be your instructor.”

His voice is gravelly, serious, like his appearance. Eon. The name sparks a memory and I think I’ve heard it before. Yes – of course. This is Eon, general of the Fey. Second only to the Queen and King, in terms of power. I wonder why such a powerful fairy would be here, training newly anointed Sidhe and Master. When I decide to look over at Jimin, he wears a similar expression of puzzlement.

“You are both far enough advanced in weaponry and combat,” Eon nods, “that it seemed imprudent for anyone but myself to train you. A compliment to your teachers, I’m sure.” When the fairy meets my gaze, I garner the distinct impression he doesn’t enjoy complimenting my father.

“Let us begin,” he clears his throat, turning away. “Choose a defense,” Eon waves a hand at the large pile of weapons and I reach for the bow and arrow, pausing when I see Jimin pick up a falchion. Interesting. The falchion is used in dual capacity, both on the ground and horseback. I thought Jimin mentioned being in the infantry.

Most importantly, the weapons are at odds with one another. Sighing gently, I set my bow and arrow down and pick up a short sword. This should work nicely, in hand-to-hand combat. Whirling gently, I slash through the air – testing the balance of the blade. Jimin watches me do so, a slight smirk to his face.

“What?” I demand, lowering my sword.

“Oh, nothing,” Jimin chortles, tilting his head. “It’s just such a small sword.”

He grins when I take a swing at him, deftly sidestepping my blow. The sword misses, whistling harmlessly past where Jimin once stood. “Would you prefer a broadsword, your highness?” I ask sweetly.

“Can you lift a broadsword?”

Scowling, I drop into a fighting stance. This time, I don’t aim to miss. Eon’s voice stops us both though, a firm cough which gains our attention. “That’s enough,” he declares, hands laced behind his back. “You may flirt on a separate occasion.”

I flush; the color blending nicely with the burnt red stone of the room. Jimin appears just as shocked as I am, which surprises me. I would’ve expected him to be laughing – giving a snarky comment or wink, at least.

“Come to the center,” Eon announces, walking away, “and we’ll begin.”

I follow him meekly, listening to Jimin’s footsteps echo mine.

“The art of combat is beautiful but dangerous,” Eon continues, still not looking. “It is intimate. To become Amhéin with one another, you must learn each other’s’ flaws. Learn weaknesses, as well as strengths. Winning in battle means understanding your opponent. Therefore,” he declares, coming to a stop, “your first step in training is fighting.”

It surprises me, for Eon to refer to us as Amhéin. Most Fey don’t use the term anymore, merely referring to their humans as Master – Patron, if they’re being kind. Speaking about our relationship in such an intimate way is not something I’m accustomed to.

“I’m not here to teach you tricks,” Eon says quietly. “Nor am I here to help with technique. You will find, more often than not, Sidhe training is internal. It is difficult for any outsider to influence.”

When Eon says this, I look at Jimin. I wonder what’s happening behind the calm exterior, since Jimin doesn’t seem worried at all. I am, though – my nerves rise like bile in my throat.

Eon coughs, returning my attention to his. “When I signal you start,” he nods, arching a brow. “You may begin.”

Jimin and I make eye contact. Locking gazes before he takes a step backwards, adjusting himself to a better position. I don’t move though, since it doesn’t matter where I begin. I’m trained to kill in all spaces. What’s surprising though, is that faced with the immediate prospect of hurting him, I find I don’t want to. I shake my head roughly, attempting to dislodge such thoughts. Resolve hardening, I remind myself Jimin is the enemy. He’s not the same as me, wouldn’t offer me clemency – so I should show him none in return.

Jimin watches me carefully, as though able to sense my shift in thoughts. It helps, to think about that girl in the courtyard; an innocent Fey Jimin used and discarded. The thought clouds my vision, forces my anger to the surface. Anger is good. My eyes narrow, jaw tightening at the thought. Jimin’s arms are held loose by his sides, the blade of his sword pointed towards the ground.

He swallows.

“Begin,” Eon announces.

I make the first move, stepping so quickly, I surprise even myself. Jimin’s sword flies upwards though and I spin, reassessing the strength of his skills. As soon as I strike for the second time, he avoids my blow. His falchion is longer than mine, curved, and I try to use this to my advantage. Moving in quick thrusts and parries, disappointed to find Jimin is just as skilled as I am. I admit this begrudgingly, only to myself. When Jimin manages to block me for a third time, I begin a long series of slashes, forcing him back to avoid my blade.

Jimin does a quick twist, darting away from me. Freed from the edge of my sword, he heaves his own overhead. The weapon is brought down where I was a second ago, just moments before I darted sideways. Ducking beneath his arm, I manage a quick slash to his bicep. Just a shallow cut – barely more than a flesh wound, but Jimin grimaces in pain.

I pivot to change direction, ready when Jimin lunges for me with renewed energy. He grunts in frustration, hair spilling across his forehead when I escape yet another blow. I don’t let this image distract me, pushing again to corner him against the wall. I’m impressed by his skills – Jimin is good, especially for a human.

Even for a human. If I’m being truly honest, he’s better than most Fey.

I suppose this shouldn’t be too surprising. I know Jimin fought in the infantry, though this is still hard for me to wrap my head around. I grew up thinking the Prince was spoiled, a pretty human forcing others to do his bidding. Finding out this isn’t the case, is still a bit of a shock.

Breathing heavily, I analyze the fight. Based off experience, I should be able to disarm Jimin in minutes. Even accounting for his exceptional level of skill. It’s odd, though. He’s keeping up well, for a human. We continue on like this, neither one of us gaining momentum. I accumulate a few scrapes and bruises, so does he.

Jimin’s injuries are far worse than mine though. This gives me a small amount of satisfaction, a grim smile tugging at my lips. The first cut I gave him is most painful, blood trickling down his arm to make his grip slippery. Sensing this weakness, I lash out. Sword nicking his right arm, hitting his wrist as Jimin lets out a cry. He spins aside in a desperate maneuver, avoiding my follow-up.

Closing in on him, I smile at my impending victory – only to be dismayed, when Jimin switches hands. He grins at my expression, resuming fighting me with his left arm. I’m disappointed to find he’s equally skilled like this. After only a few minutes of sparring, I can see that I’ll win. Jimin’s loss of blood is too draining; I can see it in his eyes. They’re dark, flickering with exhaustion and I know I’ll soon overcome him.

My grin turns vicious, and I do a tricky maneuver to knock his sword aside. Jimin curses beneath his breath, ducking once to roll on the ground, grabbing his sword at the end. I use this to catch my breath, letting a strange sort of peace settle against my bones. When Jimin pushes himself to stand I move forward, steeling myself as I gain both ground and momentum.

While we continue to fight, I lose myself to the rhythm of the battle. Reveling in the strength, the power I hold over Jimin. My feet dance, sword held as an extension of myself while I lean smoothly backwards. The cadence lights a fire within, scorching my veins as I slowly lose myself to anger.

Jimin slows, more on the defense than the offense. I sweep his sword easily aside, following this with an angry slash to his stomach which just barely misses. I’m so caught in this, so hypnotized by my impending victory that I laugh, exhaling once before – I look at him.

This is a mistake. A moment which seems to go on much longer than it truly does. A lifetime passes, while my eyes meet his. Jimin’s panic is plain in them, clear with realization that his strength has failed. That’s not all I see. He stares back at me with courage, with determination, the fierce anger which calls to my own. I’m elastic, pulled away from self-destruction as easily as I came.

Limbs trembling, I disarm him quickly. Two strokes which knock the sword from his grasp, sending the metal clattering to the floor. The point of my sword rests on Jimin’s clavicle and I say nothing, my breath coming in heaved spurts. I don’t know where to look. Don’t know what to say to him, and eventually I drop my eyes.

When I look back up, Eon is watching me. His gaze betrays nothing as he takes a step forward, walking over to Jimin. “Come, Prince,” he motions. “We should bandage that cut on your arm.” His voice is calm, reasonable, it breaks the silence of the room.

I don’t move when they exit, returning to looking at the ground.

Or at least, I don’t look at them – until my self-misery gets the best and my gaze darts upward. I need to see that Jimin is okay, need to know I didn’t hurt him. Eon has already passed though, hovering someplace beyond the door as Jimin moves slowly across the room. I notice his shirt sticks to his chest, matted with sweat and blood, nothing life-threatening.

Before I can move, Jimin turns. He meets my gaze head-on, holding nothing but curiosity for me. I don’t know what to make of this. Anger, I would have understood. Hostility, I would have known. No. Jimin just looks, vaguely intrigued. Before I can decipher this, he’s gone. Stepped outside and leaving me alone. I stare blankly at the door, trying to understand what just happened.

My weight sags backwards, hitting the wall to slide into a seated position. My legs curl beneath me, protecting me from the wave of pain which looms threateningly on the horizon. Sometimes it scares me, what I can do. I remember back when I was a child, my father would often force me to fight humans.

Only as a child. Eventually, I became too fast for them, too strong and humans were no longer a challenge. That’s what my father told me. In truth, I think the humans just stopped agreeing to come. No amount of money was worth it to them, no amount of honor was enough. I was too fast, too strong and I couldn’t control myself. Oftentimes, I hurt them.

It would be better to say it was just one of them. That I only had one accident, that I didn’t know any better. It would be easier to say that I cared. It’d also be easy, if I said I never fought those weaker than myself. That I took no pleasure in their defeats, that winning those victories brought me no joy.

It would be easier, but it wouldn’t be true. My father rewarded me for the win, no matter how small. It made me eager to please him, eager for the feel of a warm bed and meal. I trained myself to look past the human’s fear, to see my opponent as less than myself, smothering that pit of shame within my stomach. Winning was everything, no matter the cost it took in the long run.

My father once said that weapons have no emotions. They do not empathize and I, am ultimately a weapon. There’s a dark part of myself which embraces this. It’s easier, not to feel. Easier to be hard, to be steel. Without emotion, there is no pain. When I fight as a weapon, I find I don’t care. Don’t care what I need to do to win – which means I usually win. Out on the battlefield, it’s a liability to care. Caring makes one vulnerable; something others can exploit and take advantage of.

It’s a talent of us Fey, to embrace this darker side. To cross into the dark, animalistic part which knows no fear. I nearly did so today, fighting Jimin. I would have killed him, I have no doubt. I would have, if I hadn’t looked up. I blink then, frowning. Lifting a hand to my face, staring at the wetness revealed on my fingertips.

I can’t remember the last time I cried. I would laugh at this fact, if I weren’t already so close to losing myself. Instead, I let another tear fall. It feels oddly satisfying, though I’m not sure what I’m crying for. Because I stopped, or because I didn’t?

I’ve never lost a fight. Never stopped to spare someone, yet I stopped to spare him. Stopped to spare Jimin, with his dark eyes and courageous face. I don’t know why. My body shakes, more from fear than from laughter. The world around me is changing – I’m changing – and somehow, I don’t think my father will like what I’m becoming.

The rest of the day, I hold myself back. I force the dark part of myself to remain dormant, at least for now. Instead, I focus on his Jimin’s technique. On learning his motions, his reactions. He responds easily to the maneuvers Eon throws our way, fluid and graceful as any Fey.

The skills he possesses are outstanding, perhaps on par with my own – were I not much stronger than he is. I am though, which means for Jimin to win, I must be defeated within the first few minutes of the fight. As the day passes by, Jimin catches on. He adjusts his fighting style accordingly, adopting sneak attacks and slight maneuvers. It shocks me, when he wins. Just the one time, no more than that – but it’s more than anyone else has.

The monotony of combat is calming, a distraction which soothes my tangled thoughts. Jimin and I don’t speak, for which I am grateful. By the end of practice though, my muscles are spent. Body aching, sweat trickling down my back as I rest my hands on my knees. Jimin stands in a similar position, breath coming in uneven gulps. I avert my eyes from his damp shirt, clinging to the muscled body below.

As the sun sinks below the horizon, it casts long shadows across the floor. Eon declares the day complete, clapping his hands. “Return to your rooms for dinner,” he instructs. “Y/N, you are to dine in Jimin’s quarters.”

“What?” I ask, alarmed. My gaze darts to the human Prince. “Why not with the others, like we did the last night?”

Eon just fixes me with his clouded, green stare. “This week is about more than learning to fight,” he says to me quietly. “Now, go. Dinner will be served throughout the castle at seven.”

I open my mouth to protest, but before I can – Jimin clears his throat.

“Y/N.”

It’s the first word he’s said since this morning and when I look at him, his eyes are large, cautious. That all changes when he takes my hand though, gaze darkening while lowering his head. Jimin’s lips brush the back of my skin, a gesture as simple and gentle as a breeze.

Then he leaves, turning quickly to stride from the room. I just stand there staring, watching him go for far longer than I’d care to admit.

Standing outside Jimin’s door that night, I fiddle with the sleeve of my dress. My gown is emerald in color, bringing out the depths of my eyes. At least, that’s what my maid told me. I think it makes me look rather like a forest, lost in a sea of monotone. Staring at the door though, I swallow back these thoughts. It doesn’t matter what I wear, this is only a business dinner.

As I think this, the door flies open. Jimin’s eyes widen and he hesitates, but only for a moment. The gesture is so fleeting, I wonder if I imagined it entirely, “I thought I heard someone,” Jimin allows, smiling pleasantly. He steps back from the door, gesturing me to walk inside. “Please, come in.”

I look past him. The room beyond is lit by feylight, congregated energy used that’s less fickle than fire. The curtains are pulled to reveal a rising moon and I breathe in relief when I see a serving faery. Jimin and I won’t be completely alone.

“Thank you,” I nod, walking past.

Jimin sits down across from me, oddly formal in his mannerisms. The silence between the two of us extends, making me very aware we’ve only spoken two sentences since my arrival.

Arranging my skirts to the side of my chair, I attempt to look busy. When the server pours wine, I nod in appreciation, looking anywhere but at Jimin when I take a sip. The silence continues though, my pulse deafening in my veins. My panic grows at this, imagining long hours, filled with silence. When our server returns, he brings the salad course.

Just as I despair of ever hearing words again, Jimin asks, “Why did you hold back today?”

His question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?” I respond, swallowing a forkful of lettuce.

“Today, after the first fight.” Jimin leans in, eyes gleaming in the light. “You let me win – why?”

“I,” shaking my head, I take a small sip of my wine. “That’s awfully presumptuous, to assume I’d let you do anything.” Though I try to sound confident, I avoid his gaze.

Jimin snorts. “Oh, come on. I’m good, but you’re Fey. I shouldn’t have won – not once.”

A muscle in my jaw ticks, setting down my fork. “You won,” I say to him, gaze cold. “By merit alone. Our fight this morning,” I exhale, not caring to explain. “I don’t want to talk about. It’s insulting you think I’d ever let you win. Truly, there’s nothing so awful as a self-deprecating opponent,” I mutter, then stab angrily at a tomato.

Jimin considers this, then laughs. “Alright,” he admits, picking up his fork.

His easy acceptance washes away some of the earlier tension. I breathe in relief, happy his questioning is over, though it appears my respite is to be short-lived.

Jimin leans forward then, catching my gaze. “What about earlier, what happened during that fight?”

My teeth grind, since this is the one thing I don’t want to discuss. I consider pretending not to know what he means. This seems pointless though, since my Fey nature is sure to come up in other aspects of training. Jimin lifts his fork to his mouth, waiting. He’s interested in the answer – though he’s pretends that he’s not.

Pushing my plate away from me, I sigh. “We fought. You lost.”

I stop, not wanting to say more. For a moment, I wish I were human. Wish I could do more than mislead him, I wish I could lie. I can’t say this morning was nothing, because it wasn’t. I can’t say Jimin wasn’t in danger, because he was.

“Well, obviously.” Jimin studies me. “I’ve heard rumor that Fey can turn off their emotions when they fight. I’ve heard this makes them formidable warriors.”

No longer caring to pretend, I meet his gaze. “I’ve heard that as well.”

“Is it true?” he asks, a direct question.

“It is,” I frown.

Jimin sits back, considering my answer. I wait for fear to creep over his gaze, for his eyes to look hurriedly away, but he does no such thing.

“What’s does it feel like?” Jimin asks instead, picking back up his fork.

Though I’m surprised, I try not to show it. “Why would I know what that’s like?”

“Don’t you?” Jimin asks, another direct question.

I grit my teeth, steeling myself against the growing anger. It’s true, faeries cannot lie. It’s considered bad form though, to use this against us. Jimin knows this – he must, given the stupid, little grin on his face. One which widens with each passing second.

I glare. “Yes. Yes, I know.”

“So,” Jimin cuts off a slice of cucumber. “What does it feel like?”

When he looks back at me though, the grin fades from Jimin’s face. I realize then, maybe Jimin doesn’t want to play games either. Maybe he really does want to know this answer. I think it’s this, which makes me tell him the truth.

“It’s not a conscious choice,” I say slowly. “At least, not for me.” I pause, uncertain what next. “I don’t suppose you feel the rhythm of fighting? A certain tempo, almost like dancing.”

I don’t know if this is unique to the Fey. Or perhaps even unique to me. When Jimin nods though, acknowledging the statement, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Imagine that, just on a grander scale. It’s more than just feeling the rhythm, you become it.” Closing my eyes, I drift back to that moment. “Imagine your body turning to instinct, the only message reaching your brain is survive. Live, survive – at all costs.”

I feel Jimin watching me, but don’t yet dare open my eyes. “The Fey call it Otero,” I say, voice softening. “It comes from a word which means cancel, to blot out. When this happens, I no longer exist. It’s not that I lose control of myself, because I don’t,” I open my eyes. “I am control. The thing I lose, is myself.”

Realizing that’s all, I fall silent. I’m angry then, both at Jimin and at myself. Angry that he pried, angry I said so much. I chose to do this, though. Just because I can’t lie to Jimin, didn’t mean I had to explain.

“Y/N.”

I blink, distracted by the sound of my name. Jimin’s voice is gentle though, and it’s this which makes me see him. For the first time, I realize that of the two of us, I might be the more dangerous one. This thought shudders through me, sending my world tilting on its axis.

“Thank you for stopping, then.” Jimin must mistake my expression for one of confusion then, because he adds, “I know that this morning must have been difficult. If what you said just now is true, I’m amazed you were able to stop at all. So, thank you.”

I stare, allowing his words to sink in. Jimin is amazed I stopped. Before now, I hadn’t even questioned this but he raises a very good point. Thoughts racing, I struggle to piece together a logical explanation – unable to come up with one. None which make sense, anyways. My thoughts fragment, fractured and uncertain. I’ve never saved anyone, but Jimin.

I could ponder this more, were it not for the moon. Its light distracts me, the way that it plays over Jimin’s cheekbones. The way the slanted beams contrast with his lips, eyes burning in muted light. As I stare, drinking him in – I find my hand reaching shakily for my wine.

“You’re welcome,” I say, tearing my gaze away. “I doubt Eon would have let me kill you, though. He probably would have interfered before disembowelment.”

Jimin pauses for a moment, then laughs – surprised. “A joke,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Who knew?”

The door to his suite opens, cutting off our conversation with the arrival of the main course. The night flows easily after that. Jimin talks of his time in the military, noting the several different training locations spread across Humankind. He mentions a tour he’s to take in the spring, that I’ll need to come with – and the conversation sparks a memory.

“You chose a falchion,” I interrupt, cocking my head. “I thought you said you fought in the infantry?”

At this, Jimin smiles. “True. I fought in the infantry. I was convinced I could do it all, though. I went to various factions of the army, begged soldiers, generals – anyone, really, to teach me. I learned how to wield the falchion two years ago. Practicing in the woods, in the dead of night whenever my cavalry friend could spare the time.”

This impresses me, and I tell him as much. “Most people can motivate others,” I muse, tilting my head. “It’s more difficult I find, to motivate oneself.”

“True, but you over-flatter me.” Jimin smiles.

When the dessert course arrives, I find myself unsure of what to talk about. The man is confusing. No, not man, I correct myself – Prince. Catching my slip-up, I shake my head. Jimin is an odd mix of cocky and kind; self-motivated and easy-going. Picking at my dish, I stare down at the coconut trifle, trying to eat. I know coconut is an exotic, expensive thing, but I’ve never been very partial.

“The food is not to your liking?”

It’s the servant who speaks and I start, having forgotten he was here. “Coconut is delicious,” I smile blandly, allowing my bowl to be swept away.

Jimin watches all this, a tiny smile at the corner of his lips.

When I see him watching me, I flush. “What?” I demand, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing.” Jimin shakes his head, then grins. “I know you can’t lie, but even I could tell that was not true.”

Called out, I stifle a smile. “Well, no,” I admit. “Personally, I don’t like coconut. In general, though – I hear it’s delicious.”

At this, Jimin laughs. Throwing his head back and chuckles, the heartwarming gesture filling the room. “Is it true then, what they say about the Fey?”

My mouth dries, as he returns to looking at me. “What is?”

“That, ‘lying to be polite’, is an affliction which affects all sentient beings,” Jimin supplies, grinning.

“Court games,” I sigh, shaking my head, “are an unfortunate truth to all kingdoms. Although I can’t claim to be an expert at playing.”

“No?” Jimin takes a sip of wine, raising both eyebrows.

“No. I was raised far away from this,” I explain. “Out on the western coast.”

Jimin nods, as though this isn’t new. Which it’s not, I remind myself. Jimin was present at my bidding, he heard my hometown announced. This thought puts a sour taste in my mouth. It’s one thing to sit here, laughing over dessert with a Prince. It’s another, to associate him with the horror of that afternoon.

“You’ll have to learn at Ostia,” Jimin allows, laughter fading from his eyes.

“That’s fine,” I acknowledge, tracing the rim of my wine glass. “I’m a quick study.”

At this he smiles, somewhat sadly. “I’m sure you are.”

There’s an uncomfortable pause, while we both look at one another. The silence isn’t as awkward as before, but somehow feels even more invasive. My skin tingles, guilt rising in my stomach as I consider Namjoon. His face swims before me, gaze accusatory – though something even deeper than that, pushes him aside.

It’s then that I notice our server, packing up to leave. Heart racing, I realize he’s leaving us alone. The thought both excites and terrifies me. “Your Highness,” he nods, bowing low while he pulls his cart towards the hall.

“Let me help,” Jimin offers, jumping up to push open the heavy door.

The faery stills, speechless at the small act of kindness. He recovers quickly though, bowing once before hurrying away – not before thanking the Prince profusely. It’s the first I’ve heard a faery thank a human. The room falls silent upon his departure. Our easy camaraderie of earlier gone, replaced by something I don’t care to name.

Rather than stay though, I push myself to stand. “I should retire to my rooms.”

Jimin slowly nods. I’m eager to go, eager for the safety of two doors between us. The air is too thick for my comfort, too wired with energy and something else. My entire body is alive, my senses somehow sharper – or maybe duller – everything flipped from the way that it should be.

Jimin doesn’t stop me when I turn to leave. Halfway to the door, I trip, my haste making me clumsy and tangling my feet beneath in the rug. Jimin darts forward, somehow at my side before I fall. He clasps my elbow, steadying me gently to set me upright.

“Are you okay?” Jimin murmurs, eyes searching for any sort of injury.

My face is crimson, the only damage done to my pride. “I’m fine,” I manage, then attempt once again to leave.

Jimin’s grip tightens, holding me still. Surprised by his sudden insistency, I lift my gaze to his. This was a mistake, I realize. This close to him, I can see the rise of each mole on his neck. The paleness of his face, marred occasionally by old sunburn, from his time in the army. His hair is dark, eyes lighter – it’s hard for me to remember then, why people view him as frivolous. It’s hard to find any humor within that gaze, right now.

“Jimin,” I start, then stop. I don’t know what I was going to say next.

He slowly lifts a hand, tucking a strand of hair away from my neck. “Yes?”

A sharp, pang of fear tears through me. “I have to go,” I say, the words automatic.

Jimin’s brows knit, confused, though he releases me. “Of course.”

I nod, still facing him. It takes a moment for me to tear myself away, and I’m midway to the door before Jimin says my name out loud.

“Jimin, don’t,” I interrupt, searching for an excuse. “I can’t – ʺ

His laugh is hollow, already seeming to know what I’m about to say. “And why can’t you?”

The words I want, my explanation of Namjoon dries in my mouth. I can’t tell him that, and so I search for another half-truth. “We’re different,” I turn to face him. This is true, but it’s not all of it. “I’m Fey, you’re Human.”

“And?” Jimin asks, eyes narrowing.

“When humans have feelings, they don’t last longer than five minutes.”

This isn’t what I intended to say, but it’s true nonetheless.

Jimin’s gaze darkens. “Oh? Because you’re such an expert in what Humans are really like.”

“I could ask that maid from yesterday,” I blurt, then wince. That was unintentional of me – I don’t know what came over me, just now. I feel a flicker of shame when Jimin takes a step back, as though he’s just been slapped. I can’t afford to be kind to him though, and so I drive my point home. “It certainly looked as though you used her and left her,” I mutter.

“Well,” Jimin’s jaw clenches, eyes wide. “I suppose there are limitations, then, to even Fey honesty.” Shaking his head, the Prince looks away. “You can speak any lie, so long as you think it’s a truth. A clever loophole.”

“It’s not a loophole,” I counter, my annoyance growing the longer I stand here. “You act as though honesty is a game, one can play with. Do you think we Fey enjoy having to tell the truth? That we like our words be a game, never able say what we truly feel?”

Jimin doesn’t answer, gaze faltering when I take a step closer.

“No,” I declare, looking up at him. “I know what I saw. I don’t need to lie, to tell you that.”

“You don’t know me, though,” Jimin says, quieter. More to himself, than to me.

“I know enough,” I respond, finally pushing past him and out the door.

The door thuds shut and for a moment, I think he might follow – but nothing happens. When he does nothing, I take off down the fall. Steps quick and angry, steady until I close the weight of my doors behind me. I stay like that, chest rising and falling until I turn away from the hall.

I change mechanically into my nightgown. Even then, it’s difficult for me to fall sleep. I continue to stare at my ceiling, thoughts flickering past my vision like visions. When I do sleep, my dreams are of fire and smoke. Pain, the color of steely iron.

[Master List]

#noonanet #kwriterskollection #kpoptrashtag #jimin fanfiction #jimin au #jimin fantasy #jimin royalty!au #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts fantasy #bts royalty!au #bts #jimin #park jimin #bts jimin

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Warrior Season 2: What to Expect From the Return of the Martial Arts Drama

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When Warrior premiered in April of last year, Cinemax knew they had a hit right away. Helmed by Fast & Furious director Justin Lin and Banshee co-creator Jonathan Tropper, Warrior was renewed for a second season after just three episodes.

“Warrior comes from the pitch Bruce Lee brought to Warner Brothers,” Tropper says, the writer of the show. “It was an eight page treatment Bruce Lee had written that Shannon [Lee] held onto, and that was where the initial ideas for this show come from.”

The show exists largely through the efforts of Shannon Lee (Bruce Lee’s daughter and the executive producer of the show) to bring one of her father’s many visions to fruition. It’s a true testament that Warrior carries on Bruce Lee’s legacy nearly 50 years since he’s passed.

The gritty action-packed drama is set during the brutal late 19th century Tong Wars of San Francisco’s Chinatown and showcases a largely Asian cast. Loosely based on historical events, Warrior explores the tumultuous Wild West period leading up to the Chinese Exclusion Act, the only law that the United States ever implemented to block immigration of a specific racial profile.

“My father had the main character Ah Sahm (Andrew Koji) coming over from China, getting indoctrinated into the Tongs as a hatchet man, while he was really looking for his sister. It had Bill (Kieran Bew), the police officer, as a character. It had the Tong wars as a backdrop to the show and it had the Chinese Exclusion Act and the political immigration issues of the time as a backdrop to the show.”

With trending immigration issues under the present political regime, Warrior is uncannily topical.

“This has always been an immigrant story,” says Tropper, who started writing the show under the Obama administration and didn’t foresee how relevant it would become in 2020. “For me, it’s not that we were aiming at this topic. It’s just that this topic is never not there. It just happens that people are much more conscious of it right now because of this administration. But America is a country built by immigrants that has never developed a comfortable relationship with immigrants. So it’s a generational problem and it’s a cyclical problem, and it’s one that we have not solved. I feel like thematically, this show would be relevant no matter when it was coming out. Now it just happens to speak really loudly to what’s going on.”

Enter the Dragon – Rising Star Andrew Koji

Politics aside, Warrior has one of today’s hottest actors in the lead role, Andrew Koji. Beyond Warrior, Koji plays the pivotal role of Storm Shadow in the upcoming Snake Eyes: G.I.Joe Origins alongside Henry Goulding (Crazy Rich Asians), Ursula Corbero (Money Heist), Iko Uwais (The Raid), and Samara Weaving (Bill & Ted Face the Music). The film was slated for release this October but was pushed back to 2021 as another COVID-19 casualty.

“If it’s best for the film, for the audience, for people,” says Koji, “I don’t think many people want to go to the cinema right now.”

While the postponement of his first major film was disappointing, it was overshadowed by the announcement that Koji has been cast in Bullet Train starring Brad Pitt and directed by David Leitch.

“I saw the article the other day,” recounts Koji with glee. “I was like, “What’s my face doing next to Brad Pitt’s? Nah. Nah. What’s going on?”

Koji’s character Ah Sahm is the role that Bruce Lee intended for himself. However, Ah Sahm is his own man, only echoing Lee with Easter Egg nods to classic film fight scenes, but the nods are kept low key.

“When he beats up the first two guys at the brothel in the pilot, that is literally the choreography from Way of the Dragon,” Trooper explains. “And then he sits down on the chest of the guy, we’re just totally paying homage there. And then, having done that, we do almost nothing else the rest of the season except the occasional tweak of the nose or the gesture with the hand.”

Brucesploitation is a genre of its own, another surreal testament to Bruce Lee’s legacy. If Koji had just done an impersonation of Bruce, Ah Sahm would have degenerated into yet another Bruce Lee clone. Despite the temptation, and having the blessing of Bruce Lee Entertainment, Warrior would not have succeeded like it has if it were just derivative.

“Of all people, Shannon Lee was really insistent that we don’t go overboard with the Bruce Lee stuff,” continues Tropper. “She really tempered it. We were welcomed to use it, but she really wanted the show stand on its own. She had a sort of ‘less is more’ approach. And I think that turned out to be the wise way to go.”

Despite Koji’s rising star, he’s quick to deflect the credit for the success of Warrior to his cast mates.

“When I see Warrior Season 2 and I see these great actors; Kieran, Tom [Weston-Jones], Hoon [Lee], Joe [Taslim], et cetera, I’m more honored that I’m amongst this cast. When I see their performances I’m like, ‘Whoa, these guys are good, because they’re nothing like this in real life.’ It’s more that it’s an honor to be able to work alongside these people who are just so good at what they’re doing.”

Fist of Fury – Warrior Season 2 Comes Out Fighting

When Ah Sahm was last seen in Season 1, he had lost a brutal duel to Li Yong (Taslim). He falls from grace at Hop Wei Tong to become a coolie. ‘Coolie’ is a Chinese word. ‘Ku’ means ‘bitter’ and ‘li’ means ‘work’ and the coolie world is a hopeless grimy place to be. It sets the stage for Season 2 to blow up.

“The fun of any Season 2, and certainly in this show, is in Season 1 you have to do all the heavy lifting of building the world,” Tropper says. “Season 2, the world’s already built, and now you get to really go deeper into all the characters because you don’t have to spend as much time placing them.”

Season 1 established the three distinct worlds of Warrior: the upper crust world of San Francisco politics, the working class world of the cops, and the lower class, the Irish ghetto and Chinatown.

“These three forces have been put into this pressure cooker where something is going to either give or explode,” continues Tropper, “So in Season 2, it was time to let that pressure cooker explode.”

Lee feels that her father would be pleased with how Warrior has turned out so far. She finds it crazy how relevant the show is today and is excited to see how the next episodes play out.

“Fans can expect, for Season 2, to really up the stakes and up the conflict,” she says. “We’re really going to see things reach a bit of a fever pitch in Chinatown… So it’s very complicated and the weaving of the story is really brilliant and the stakes are really high. And you’ll see what happens.”

Warrior Season 2 introduces several new characters and story arcs. The costumes of Ah Toy (Olivia Cheng) get more lavish and opulent. The fights escalate, getting bigger and bloodier as the season progresses and even includes a face-off between Ah Sahm and Dolph, played by UFC Champion Michael Bisping.

“I don’t think many people would be able to say they kicked a UFC champion in the face and lived,” jokes Koji. Warrior Season 2 would be a sure win if it weren’t for Cinemax’s programming cuts and the fact that it’s 2020, the year of the pandemic.

The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic brings an unexpected challenge for a show about Chinatown. Racist attacks against Chinese have been on the rise, so much so that the House or Representatives just passed a resolution condemning “all forms of anti-Asian sentiment as related to COVID-19.” Will this affect the reception of Warrior?

“Gosh, I don’t know,” says Lee. “I certainly hope not. But given the ability of people to be reasonable in this moment that we find ourselves in, I wish I could say, ‘Oh, that would be silly,’ but I feel like the anti-China, anti-Asian sentiment in the country around the coronavirus is silly. There’s a lot that’s gone on that is kind of blowing my mind left and right, so I wish I could say for certain that it wouldn’t. But what I hope happens is that people tune in to the show… because it’s entertaining and they fall in love with it; and maybe it shifts their perspective in some way.”

For Tropper, the relevance of Warrior reflects the pervasiveness of racism.

“I think that just proves the point that whether it is overt or covert, it’s never gone,” he says. “There’s the version of xenophobia towards the Asians. There’s a version of racism towards the Black population. Our country has these fault lines that are always there whether they’re shaking or not. Obviously there are tremendous echoes from our show of what was going on when they started referring to coronavirus as the ‘Chinese flu.’ But if you speak to any Chinese American, I don’t think they’ll tell you it’s ever really been gone. It just goes through periods of quiet and periods of noise. So I think we just happened to be coming out at a kind of noisier time, which is deeply unfortunate. Believe me I’d much rather we were just a fun martial art show that was a lot less relevant today.”

The Road to Warrior Season 3

Unfortunately last January, Cinemax announced that it would no longer be commissioning original shows in preparation for the launch of HBO Max. “Right now, Season 3 is a little uncertain,” says Lee. Warrior Season 2 is an attempt to level the show up to prove it deserves another round.

“We’re in these uncertain times,” says Lee, “but I’m hoping that when the show, once Season 2 completes on Cinemax, they are going to release it to the HBO platforms and I do hope that the show will just catch a much bigger audience and that there will be demands for a third season.”

Why invest in a second season when the future is uncertain? There’s always a chance that the fans may save it. Shows like Star Wars: The Clone Wars, The Expanse, Money Heist, and Cobra Kai found new life and more fans on other networks.

“I’ve got a gut feeling that this show, or at least the legacy of this show, will last a lot longer than most shows,” adds Koji. “I think what it means – the energy, the feeling, the story and the characters – there’s so many elements that just were magic. The writing’s sharper, the action is crisper and embraces its style more. I think the actors are all on point. Season 2 was one of the highlights of my career so far, shooting, and I think it was for a lot of people. We all felt that magic, so we hope that it comes across on-screen, which I believe it will. I think they’re going to see something special on all fronts.”

Koji holds out a lot of hope that Warrior Season 3 will happen.

“Well, obviously, with the current climate it’s a lot less certain. All we know is if the fans make enough noise and help us by making that noise it is in so many of our intentions to wrap this show up as I think it should. Not only for the show, the story, for the fans, but for that legend Bruce Lee. I think it deserves a conclusive ending.”

Regardless of what the future may hold for Warrior, Season 2 is worth the watch.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Warrior begins its ten-episode second season on Oct. 2, exclusively on CINEMAX.

The post Warrior Season 2: What to Expect From the Return of the Martial Arts Drama appeared first on Den of Geek.

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gamerszone2019-blog · 5 years

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Kill la Kill The Game: IF Review

New Post has been published on https://gamerszone.tn/kill-la-kill-the-game-if-review/

Kill la Kill The Game: IF Review

At first glance, Kill la Kill The Game: IF passes the fighting game smell test. With sharp cel-shaded cutscenes, including loving recreations of critical moments from the beloved Hiroyuki Imaishi anime series and the endorsement of its animation studio Trigger, developer APlus and publisher Arc System Works want you to see and get excited about the prospect of an authentic, official Kill la Kill game. Unfortunately, authenticity isn’t everything. Kill la Kill The Game: IF feels like a stripped-down version of the prototypical 3D anime fighter. Its loose, mashy fighting fails to create the opportunities for strategic depth I’ve come to expect in great fighting games. Meanwhile, its story and single-player modes feel less than substantial.

Kill la Kill The Game: IF is a fairly basic version of what we’ve seen in other 3D anime fighting games like Jump Force or the Naruto: Ultimate Ninja Storm series. Unlike those games, Kill la Kill’s matches are one-on-one duels, and take place on dull, flat arenas. The fighting is very simple, with each character using his or her own versions of the same three attacks: a close-range punch or strike, a chargeable long-distance projectile or dash attack, and a slow-moving heavy hit that breaks your opponent’s guard. Fighters also have flashy, powerful versions of each attack called deathblows, which are limited by a special meter. They do more damage, though not so much that pulling one off feels particularly satisfying, even if they come with a short cutscene intro to make them feel more epic.

Though the controls are simple, the characters attack styles are not completely identical. Certain characters have variations that may push you to approach a fight in specific, sometimes unintuitive ways. For example, Ira Gamagoori, a BDSM-inspired character who whips himself to build up power, takes a very small amount of damage when he blocks to build up his strength, which then makes his attacks more powerful. Other character’s eccentricities are much smaller – Uzu Sanageyama, the oversized, armored fighter with a wooden sword, has a charged version of his heavy attack that teleports directly behind his opponent. Unfortunately, there are no character-specific tutorials to help you learn each of their variations, so you will need to figure out how each character works through trial and error.

Though the attacks and fighting styles distinguish one character from another, it’s hard to avoid the feeling that you’re just mashing your way to victory.

“

Though the attacks and fighting styles distinguish one character from another, it’s hard to avoid the feeling that you’re just mashing your way to victory. There’s a system in place where blocks beat attacks, guard breaks beat guards, and dodges beat guard breaks, but with an air dash that can reach your opponent from any distance and a lot of single-button combos, it still feels like just rushing in and mashing an attack button is the optimal strategy. You can spend half your special meter to burst out of combos using the Bloody Valor system, a mid-match minigame-style mechanic, but it doesn’t do a great job of teaching you this. If you don’t know it, or recently used Bloody Valor already, then trading strings of hits doesn’t feel particularly enthralling when dishing it out, and can be exasperating when you have to take it.

Bloody Valor is ostensibly a “comeback” tool, offering some recourse when you’re in a one-sided fight, but it does more harm than good. It’s a rock-paper-scissors-style power-up mechanic, letting you spend half of your special meter to gamble for a battlefield advantage (such as healing your wounds or recharging your super meter) and raise your Ketsui level, which makes you generally more powerful. If you initiate Bloody Valor and win, you do it again to gain an even larger advantage. If you can win multiple challenges in a row, you’ll charge up a match-ending super move called a Lost Fiber Secret Art.

And if you start a Bloody Valor and lose? You lose a little health. There’s little incentive not to try it as often as possible, especially if you’re outmatched, which breaks up the flow of the fight in an unwelcome way. I’m not a fan of injecting random, tide-turning game mechanics into fighting games. Putting stat boosts and a match-winning attack at the end of a minigame separates the prospect of winning from your skill in combat, and undermines the fight as a whole.

The best defense may be Kill la Kill The Game: IF’s incomprehensible camera. Rather than following your character, the camera floats freely around the arena allowing your fighter to move out of focus or even all the way to the background, making it difficult to keep track of what you’re doing. There were times, particularly while playing the story mode, when I lost track of my fighter because the camera didn’t move as anticipated. There’s no auto-center button or way to turn the seemingly randomized camera off. You have to learn to go with the flow, which… I’d rather not. Fighting games are intense enough when you can keep track of the action.

Once upon a time at Honnouji Academy…

Despite being a fighting game, and therefore inherently multiplayer-focused, Kill la Kill The Game: IF puts single-player first. Its primary mode is its story-driven campaigns, a pair of abridged retellings of the original anime series’ final two-thirds -with some key differences that bring the playable fighters to blows in ways the original story wouldn’t allow. You should know right from the get-go: It’s all fan service, and you’re expected to know the whole Kill la Kill saga before you start, which makes sense for a tie-in game but feels limiting.

Though the campaigns are short – each one takes about three hours to complete – both feel like they drag on for far too long. The campaigns follow Satsuki Kiryuin and Ryuko Matoi, respectively, and are only ten fights apiece, including a mix of standard one-on-one matches, three-way duels, and brawler-esque engagements with dozens of generic “cover” opponents. The multi-character fights and brawls add some variety, but all three types are used repeatedly so they don’t feel especially refreshing by the end. Plus, that wayward camera has a tendency to make some of the fights borderline unreadable.

Long cutscenes separate each match, full of expository dialogue that rushes you through the plot.

“

The real issue with the campaigns are the wait times between each fight. Long cutscenes separate each match, full of expository dialogue that rushes you through the plot. Though the cutscenes look good and are well shot, it doesn’t feel like much is happening if you know major plot points already, and isn’t effective storytelling if it’s new to you. Instead, the changes sprinkled throughout feel like they exist to facilitate fights, rather than make the story interesting in a new way.

The poor balance of cutscene to combat also seems to be in service of the story. During the campaigns, you’re restricted to the protagonists’ perspectives, to the point where you wind up watching fights take place in cutscenes rather than playing them yourself. In some cases, you watch multiple scenes and progress through entire chapters of the story without fighting at all.

Even if it weren’t mostly recounting events fans already know – key moments from the anime like the Naturals Election and the Great Culture and Sports Festival take up multiple chapters – the perpetual wait to pick up your controller and start playing tested my patience to the point where I wasn’t particularly interested in watching.

While I didn’t love how long and redundant the cutscenes were, I will say there were very well made. Kill la Kill The Game: IF employs an elegant cel-shaded art style both in gameplay and cutscenes. It isn’t as inventive as the multi-faceted art style of the anime, but it’s clean, looks good, and really does feel like watching an anime in its rare, exciting moments. In cutscenes, the art gets an aesthetic boost from strong cinematography, which makes many sequences, especially action scenes, look striking.

But the story fails to give you additional insight into the characters or world of the anime series. Despite the fact that it was “supervised” by the Kill la Kill anime scriptwriter Kazuki Nakashima, giving it an air of canonical importance, IF’s story bends over backwards to make sure you know that what happens is of absolutely no consequence to the story you already know.

The story is clearly the centerpiece of Kill la Kill The Game: IF, so much so that you are required to play at least some of it before doing anything else – the training and local versus modes only unlock after completing the first chapter. Online play isn’t available until after chapter six. I, and I think most fighting game fans would agree, that this is a cardinal sin. There will always be people who just want to jump into fighting with friends or simply don’t care about the campaign. Forcing you to consume even a small part of it feels, quite frankly, out of touch.

A Note On Online Play

Kill la Kill The Game: IF offers sturdy but sparse online support. Players have access to casual unranked play, which relies primarily on lobbies and trading codes to sync up with specific players. There’s also a ranked mode that uses more traditional matchmaking where your wins and losses get recorded on global leaderboards. Separating the different types of matchmaking feels needlessly restrictive and may make it harder for players to find matches one way or the other. On the plus side, in the five matches I was able to play on PlayStation 4 ahead of launch I experienced no serious lag or connection issues.

You’ll also unlock new modes, various collectibles, and other characters as you progress, growing the paltry starting roster of six fighters to a still meager ten, including secondary versions of the two story protagonists. Two more characters are coming as free DLC later “this summer,” but even 12 characters feels light when the anime is jam-packed with weird, wonderful supporting characters who could add variety and personality to the lineup.

In addition to the story mode, Kill la Kill The Game: IF has a few extra single-player modes, including a training room, a single-player Survival Challenge mode where you continue fighting opponents until you die, and Covers Challenge, which is a wave-based brawler mode where you fight groups of generic enemies similar to some of the fights from the story campaigns. Though these modes present options to play solo using any fighter, including the more interesting characters not usable in the main campaigns, they lose their luster quickly with such a small roster.

Source : IGN

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imeugene · 7 years

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Peak BMX and Creativity

It’s just a thought I had today while driving for a few hours. The idea that progression as we understand it now will come to a halt. We can only spin so much more and stuff more tricks into a single combo. At some point we won’t be able to progress much more upon what was already built. I think we’re kind of at that point and in the next 10 years its something I think will show itself more.

Take riders themselves for example. A lot of the highest class riders today are full fledged athletes with diets and work out routines. We’re no longer the lanky awkwardly shaped social outcasts who dominated the hobby in earlier generations but riders who train and follow a regiment to shape their bodies into being the most capable. Of course not everyone is like that but a lot of the higher class riders certainly are. At first it I remember the idea of working out to be a better rider seemed kind of anti-riding something brushed up on that Protown: Greenville documentary. It was thought to be so jockish something riding is against but overtime it just became a thing. Workout culture became a mainstay so I think riding found a cop out through that and its becoming more of a regular occurrence. Outside of real human engineering, technology that doesn’t simply exist at least in consumerway. How much more fit can we get as human beings. Not much really. We’re peaking out in that sense too.

Bikes themselves have kind of seemingly peaked too. Maybe even 5-10 years ago we were experimenting with how light we can go but we soon realized that light isn’t necessarily better. Not only the increase of breakage that comes with techniques used to lighten bikes like thinner tubings and cut outs. We realize that light bikes don’t maneuver in always a productive way. There is too light something I think even Taj mentioned with his titanium T1 back in the day. It might be the lack of money but also the lack of incentive to make bikes better because quite frankly at this point the BMX freestyle bike is just that. No longer really reminiscent of the racing frames we started on. The angles are different, the freecoaster, plastic pegs, even the half link chain. Nearly everything has been specialized to perform max in freestyle. Two pegs used to be very viable but as more and more have been accomplished, people threw on 4 and a freecoaster simply to open up more possibilities in whats feasible. Now that’s the go to setup for most pros.

What all that means is we’re only capable of what’s humanely possible on bikes and at some point unless something completely drastic happens we’ll come to a standstill in progression as we understand it. Only so many bars can be thrown at some much of a height. Someone will get there and there will be very few who can challenge it. Something we’re beginning to really see now with nitro circus riders and what not. Take something like they’re needing literally mega ramps ramps to accomplish these new bigger tricks. The box jump almost feels used up at this point. At some point level of progression we’re seeing now will drastically stop. Only the fittest of the fit will be able to imagine pushing more and even then it’ll only be for inches, not the strides we’re used to now.

It happens in art and science all the time. This peaking of skill. In art, Western society has long tried to achieve photorealism. You think something that a very skilled high schooler today could do was always possible but it simply wasn’t the case. It’s only through the culmination of thousands of years of art progression for people to understand the basic concepts and techniques that we take for granted today but once photorealism was achieved where else to go?

With science, the Wright Brothers first achieved flight in 1903. Which was just 120 feets in 12 seconds. It was a monumentous achievement none the less as flight has been something thats been in the minds of humankind since probably the beginning. But we also landed on the moon in 1969. It took thousands and thousands of years for humans to accomplish 12 seconds of flight. It took 63 years since then to leave the atmosphere. It’s been 48 years since and how much further have we gone? Manned flight wise: zero. We peaked out. We’re fighting for inches again. Sure we probably have the capabilities but for whatever limitations we haven’t achieved more. Limitations occur everywhere. In space travel and in BMX too. Small industry, no money, no money for R&D, stagnated technology. Similar reasonings I’m imagining is happening in NASA. Silicon Valley also. The internet gave birth to whole new sector of business and transformed the world completely with it. Who remembers the speed and limitations of dialup? What we have now live in a near instant world with ubiquitous internet. Sure it can be faster but will it become that much faster? Not as big of a jump as dial up to cable modem was. That industry is also reported to have been peaking these days. A lot of those computer companies that started out as internet brands are looking outside for the next big thing.

So I’m gonna come back to art. Cause to me BMX is an art form also. What happened after photorealism occurred? People looked elsewhere for new standards and achievements. Art branched out in a million different directions and that really loose term ‘abstract’ became a thing. Abstract really is anything more or less. Anything that’s doesn’t hold to the traditional values of art like photorealism. It can be a guy painting one color, it can be a shark cut in half, it can be something involving poop. As we’re getting closer to achieving peak level of BMX. The traditional values will start to erode a bit and newer values will take it’s place.

It already happened a lot of times. Take the traditional values of riding style of that generation and compare it some of these popular riders of the time and it’ll make a lot more sense. Art is contextual and a lot of what we don’t understand in abstract art is people lacking the context of it’s meaning. Like take the popularity of Mark Gralla today for example. If everyone rode like Mark Gralla would it really be that special. No. It’s only cause Ratkid rejects the mainstream consensus of good riding and created his own form which is much more simpler and much more spot based that we get his riding. His riding stems from the old Animal videos but then his own personal riding is even a further extreme extension of that, where he’s almost entirely spot based and lack the traditional rider skills that his forefathers of the OG Animal squad had. Bob, Edwin, Vinnie, Tyrone were all proficient all around riders in their own right. They weren’t X-Games riders but they possessed a lot of technical skills of the time. Is Mark a rider who can be in the X-Games course and hold his own. No way at all. It’s like comparing art between the traditional values of photorealism to something like Rothko’s abstract minimalism. Some may say the photorealism is more skilled which is true but it lacks the subtleties needed to understand Rothko’s abstract work. Like how a cashroll more interesting to a regular viewer than a massive hop into a storm door. For someone who follows East Coast riding and sees the progression in style and realizes Mark is a extreme form of it. Ratkid’s riding is more nuanced. Neither is right or wrong though which is something I try my best to always remind. Just different forms taking place under the same umbrella term for art and riding.

Ruben was more of the same too. The difference with Ruben is that he was proficient traditional contest rider, just watch his intro to Etnies Grounded section. He did flip whips, I’m pretty sure and 360 whips. All of which were real contest winning tricks at the time. At some point though Ruben diverged from all that and slowly created his own brand of riding. Instead of progressing in normal sense he became more abstract through his years until he hit peak abstraction with his Grounded section where he did more or less one trick. The reason for all that, I’m not sure. Sometimes you realize you can’t keep up and you move a different direction, other times its just what you’re meant to do. Regardless we don’t remember Ruben for his flipwhips anymore, it’s only when his riding became less that it became more. Less is more is something BMX likes to repeat itself often. What are Manuel lines are way to compensate for the lack of ability to push upon regular tricks more? Riders are finding different ways to improve upon old tricks like utilizing opposite more and even switch footed these days. Someone like Ben Lewis is 180ing the last bastion of grinds which haven’t been grind to 180ed or hard 180ed yet. We hit peak physical limitation and that is pushing a lot of riders to be more creative to be shown. Similar of like how the early abstract painters were. Someone like Yumi comes from left fields and does broad strokes of pure abstraction but for a lot of riders it’s these minuscule steps towards it. There is a general idea still of what constitutes a good rider and smith nose bar is it. Being able to consistently do these it tricks that are next step progression. Soon it’ll probably be 720 caps and noses to whips but after that there’s won’t be too much more left to do in my opinion.

I interchange the word abstraction with creativity in BMX. Creativity is not necessarily a skill. Like I remember reading somewhere that Ryan Howard thought smith hard 180s were easier than regular smith 180s. But hard 180s came a long time after only cause of the mental block people had regarding regular feeble 180 and hard 180s probably. Creativity is way to circumnavigate a lot of skill and find use in what’s available and utilize efficiently what’s possible Ian Schwartz was not the most technically skilled rider something he even admitted. Because of this he was forced to reinvent riding for his own riding to become more. When everyone caught up to what he created, it would be near impossible to reinvent again and what we have is a rider with an extreme level of context but then when you see how people crank arm and freecoaster these days, virtually uncomparable. I’d like to think Steven Hamilton was a similar circumstance where they both created a brand new different style of riding but skill level are still stifled so when the other skilled riders took what they learned from them and worked upon them, they’re kind of unable to keep up. Only a truly rare breed of creative and skilled rider can do that. Someone like Simone Barraco and Yumi both possess that. Because of their expanded skill, they’re able to open up more levels of creativity. No shots at anyone because Hamilton and Ian are legends for a reason and there’s a thousands of riders who can smith nose bar but very few who can really change the genre of riding.

Peak BMX already kind of happened or is in the happening. These things are always notoriously hard to tell at the time but riding is stifling and people are being forced to be creative. We’re still a monogamous point where everyone was trying to achieve this common goal of being a very technically skilled rider who can do whips and bars and a lot of riders still are. There’s a lot left to do in that area but what I hope is in the coming years that some riders give up on that notion and take that already impressive level of skill they amassed and go a different route. That a lot of riding will be more accessible and accepted as everyone gets tired of smith nose bars. I rag on smith nose bars a lot but then it’s only cause everyone does them. The first one whoever it was was excellent. I’m hoping the riding in it’s entirety breaks out of this kind of mold they created the past years for what constitutes good riding and let different riders with different impressive styles do more and inspire their own. We’ll see. I totally called Nathan William’s winning RealBMX.

#bmx #max geartig shouldve got more likes

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