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fernthefanciful · 4 years

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A princess is a creature of grace, poise, decorum. They are soft, gentle, patient. I, however, was none of those things, much to my parents’ despair.

They only brought that upon themselves, of course. A firstborn daughter, a royal invitation to greet the new monarch not sent, and therefore an insult perceived by a powerful magical being. You know how the story goes. I was cursed and, in my story, there were no blessings to gentle it. No other wishes for my future, or what little she left of it. Just a creature of shadow and talon which appeared, damned the bright vision my parents had of my life, and vanished.

My childhood was a moderately happy one, even with the dark cloud of the curse hanging forever in my periphery. My parents loved me. My sisters, when they were born, did the same. And I of course love them with all that I am. My parents hired tutors, made sure I learned what it meant to be a monarch, made sure I was prepared for a future of rule. They simply made sure my sister learned as well.

“Just in case.” My father would say, his gaze flitting across the empty hallways as if something unseen was always listening, always watching.

And when I got too restless, when the green of the forest and the blue of the lake called to me and I couldn’t help but give in to the need to run, to chase, they took me riding. We’d make trips, have picnics, run around on the heather-filled fields and watch the sky change her colour with the setting sun. For the longest time, we were as happy as we could be.

My eighteenth birthday was a beautiful and clear full moon night. The air rife with the scents of fresh bread and roasted meats of the feast held in honour of my coming of age. Gentle and joyful music filled the ballroom as people danced and laughed all night.

In an empty hallway, as far away from people as I could get, I screamed and cried as my body tore itself apart. As the wildness that had always lived inside of me wanted out. The howl that tore from my newly changed throat was loud enough to wake the entire city.

I should have been terrified. I should be lamenting the turn my life had taken, all the things I now no longer could do. I should have felt all of those things. But when I made my way out of the castle and into the forest, the ground soft underneath my paws, the silver moonlight a gentle caress on my fur, I couldn’t help but think that his curse tasted a lot like freedom.

The wildness that had always lived inside of me, the parts that longed to shed the tight clothing and even tighter responsibilities of nobility, were torn from the inner shadow where I had hidden them and shoved into the light. The parts of me that wished to run, to hunt, to feast, finally had a chance to be free.

Things changed after that.

Now, people are wary, afraid. My parents try, they really do. To teach me to act normal, ladylike, human. It’s of no use. The wolf lurks under my skin, peering out of my eyes.

People whisper about how much of a waste it is, such a shame, that a curse has changed me so. They don’t see, they don’t understand. The wolf, the wildness, the hunger, has always been there. It is me, the deepest parts of my soul given physical form.

Life goes on. My sister, perfect, composed, kind, steps into the limelight. Or is pushed, I should say. To placate those who question my place at Court. Meanwhile I am forced into the background. An animal in the shadows meant to be forgotten.

My wolf balks at the idea of corsets, of rules, of restriction. Doesn’t understand the need for playing nice with nobles it doesn’t like. She’s a creature of instinct, simplicity, and therefore, so am I.

I spend my days roaming the grounds, protecting what is mine. The people of the city avert their eyes as I go past. Whisper about curses and how they spread, about what it means for the Kingdom that their princess is now a different creature altogether.

My wolf claims the entirety kingdom as her territory and as I get older, I travel further. Checking in daily with the people on the far edges of the lands. The misfits and the outcasts. The ones with wisdom and magic who have been pushed towards the edges of the kingdom long before I was born. Hatred and fear pushed us all here, to the lands where the briar grows three men tall. Where the trees and the shadows move on their own and where the water of the lake is always smooth, no matter how fierce the storm.

I help where I can, chasing off the foxes for the farmers, climbing trees to hang fetches and talismans for protection, bringing food to those who need it most. Most time is spent drinking tea and discussing life with the old lady whom everyone calls ‘witch’. She teaches me all she knows. Things the tutors at the castle never knew to teach me. About the plants and trees that grow, the animals that roam deep within the forest. About life here, on the outskirts of society, and all the peoples and creatures that are part of it. Here, the people look me in the eye. They bow their heads in respect but never in fear. The bravest of the children ask to card their hands through my fur. The old woman laughingly gifts me a crown of twigs and burrs and rowanberries the colour of blood. Every time I’m in my human skin I wear that crown with pride.

One day, deep within the forest at the edge of my territory, I meet her. The being who has brought all that was hidden within me to the front and then illuminated it. I shift back to human, standing before her, naked and open, but never vulnerable, thanks to her. I thank her for the gifts she has given me. For the freedom and power and strength. The look on her face when I name her fairy godmother is priceless.

She smiles at me then, a flash of razor-sharp teeth. I bare my own fangs back at her. She asks me then, if I understand. How they are being treated. Those who do not fit in, those who are made of wildness and shadow and blood. How they are shunned because of what they are.

She tells me this will change, once I am queen. When I tell her that I never will be, that my parents will never find a match for me, she simply laughs and tells me not to worry. After all, I have a fairy godmother now.

She keeps close after that. Always watching, always near, but never interfering. Not unless I ask her to. So when war, inevitably, finds itself at our borders, I ask for her aid. I stand in the middle of the bloodied battlefield, staring at the incoming forces. The wolf in me is itching underneath my skin. She wishes to hunt, to kill, to feel flesh rip underneath her claws, blood filling her mouth as she tears them apart. So I call out to my fairy godmother, asking if she would join me for a hunt, before I shed my skin along with my humanity and charge forward.

The battle is brutal and short. The enemy army is better trained, but not against the army of outcasts led by myself and my fairy godmother. Their swords and shields quickly fall against our teeth, claws and magic.

Afterwards, I greet my father on the battlefield. Bare and covered in blood. There is fear in his eyes, yes, but also respect. And, for the first time, trust.

Things change once again. I am brought back into the castle, but nothing is the same. I spend most of my time in the forests, still, but I also find myself fighting. Training with weapons other than tooth and claw. Weathered old men, tutors, hired by my father to teach me all they know. I learn how much I don’t know, how much there is still to learn. I earn my scars, even if they never stay for long. I earn their respect, even if it is hard won. I am no longer alone, some of my people from the outskirts join me and never leave their princess’ side.

It doesn’t take long before suitors come from all over the world, wishing to marry one of my sisters. Singing praises about the small kingdom that could so quickly put an end to war. That could tame monsters and wild things. Silly men, none of us were tamed, we simply chose to fight.

My parents and sisters work hard to get the most advantageous matches. To make sure that both the kingdom and my sisters will continue to grow and prosper. Bargains are struck, feasts are had. One by one my sisters move away, happy with their chosen husbands. All of them are visited by a giant wolf at least once. They know to treat my sisters well, or one night feel the sharp tips of my fangs against their throat.

Years later I am gifted another crown. It is a beautiful thing. Delicate golden flowers and bright shining gems. It feels uncomfortable to me the way all pretty things do. “It might not suit you,” my father tells me, “but you have earned it.”

“As you have earned your rest.” I tell him.

“You will be wonderful, my Queen.”

Rumors start spreading, about the Wolfqueen, the Wild One, sitting upon a blood-red throne. About the Kingdom of monsters where beasts, fae and man live free. About the Queen with the Iron Heart, who turns away all who wish to court her, and kills all who dare more.

It’s not that I do not want someone at my side. I do. I wish for the love that my parents share. That my sisters eventually found with their husbands. But all those who come for my hand, those who finally dare when I have no more free sisters left, come for just that. My hand but not my heart. They are all poised and polished. Perfect little princes who look towards the wealth of the castle but away from the wildness within me. They are afraid to meet my wolf’s cold, assessing gaze.

Some even try to change me, to find the human underneath the wolf. They only try once.

For years, I rule alone. Through another war, through a plague born of magic, through prosperity and abundance. My people always by my side but no one to claim my heart.

But then, a commotion. A man, dressed in furs. No scars on his body, but plenty on his soul. His eyes glowing the same gold as mine in the gentle torchlight. A wildness in them that my wolf recognizes. A challenge that my wolf is eager to take, to rise up to.

“Your Oracle told me to come here.” He tells me, “I asked for guidance, to find what my heart truly desires, and she sent me to you.”

My fairy godmother steps up behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder. I can’t see her, but I know she is smiling a smile of sharp pointed teeth. No doubt the oracle he speaks of.

“My Queen,” he continues, bowing deep, his eyes never leaving mine, “I came looking for connection, for freedom. I believe I will find it with your time and your company. Will you grant me it?”

“And what, my prince,” for if my fairy godmother sent him, he can only be that, “will you grant me in return?” I lean forward, eager, hungry.

“Loyalty,” he steps forward, onto the dais, “companionship and understanding.” He leans over me for a single, challenging moment, before kneeling before me, baring his throat. “Perhaps in time even love. But for now, the thrill of a hunt. Of a chase.” He grins, baring sharp fangs. A breath, and a beautiful black-furred wolf sits in front of me.

Oh – the hunt is on. A thrill goes through me as I shift, ready to run, to chase him down and claim him for my own. For if one thing is certain, it is that I am a wild thing, a Queen, a hunter, but never, ever, prey.

(First posted on my website)

#fiction #story #short story #werewolf #fairy tale #faeries #fairy #queen #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #fantasy #princess #wolf #romance #well sort of #at the end #fairy godmother #fairytale

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ticklikeabomb · 4 years

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Grouch - Part 8 (Finale)

Pairing : Steve Rogers x Plus Size Reader ; Avengers x Plus Size Reader

Warning : Language ; Angst ; Death of Characters ; Fluff

Word Count : 1.9k

Disclaimer : I do not own the characters, nor the universe where they were created and interact in. This series/fiction is only for entertainment purposes.

He cleared his throat before declaring, “I talked to Wanda. She’s in.” “Bucky?”, you ask and he nods.

The room stays silent for what feels like an eternity, the only sound being your breathing. Not taking it anymore, Steve reduces the distance between you and crashes his lips with yours in a painful kiss, the warmth of your mouths consuming each other. “Fuck I missed you so much”, he breaths in your face, his hands squeezing your waist against yours. “I missed you too”, you breath out before claiming his lips in a feverish kiss. Your hands cup his face, your eyes on each other, “I hate this secret”, you whisper. “We’ll be free soon sweetheart. Just one more mission”, he says. You nod and declare, “Kill the Avengers!” He nods, lifts you up and lays you on the bed, his lips and hands claiming your body and soul the way only he knows how to do.

“We have a code red”, F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice and alarm echoed in the compound. The Avengers stood immediately up from the couch where you were previously relaxing in front of a movie, to join their respective rooms and change. You stood up, a little lost, not knowing what to do. “Follow me”, exclaimed Tony. You did as such and before you could argue if it was a good idea of you joining them, Tony handed you a revised version of your suit. “Suit up”, he declared and addressed a wink your way. “Thanks”, the whisper leaving your lips. You were in the middle of zipping your jacket and marching towards the main room, Iron Man at your side, when he covered your body with his body before the the windows blew, the explosion propulse both of you back.

“Hydra managed to break in, Sir”, you faintly heard F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice echo in the room. “Yeah we noticed”, sarcastically replied Tony, adjusting his hand propulsors. “You okay”, he quickly turned towards you and immediately flew out the pulverized windows after you nodded. Activating the earpiece, you hear Steve inquire if everyone was alright. “Yup”, you replied, running towards the Hydra men coming your way and engaging the fight. After taking them down, you made your way to the main hall were the Avengers were fighting the equivalent of a hundred men. “How the hell did they enter?”, shouted Natasha with greeted teeth. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Barnes simultaneously being manhandled by four Hydra agents. You ran and kick one of them so hard against the wall that he immediately lost consciousness, creating an enough surprise for Bucky to retake control of the situation.

The fight continued until her voice was heard shouting, “ENOUGH.” The Hydra agents stopped their movements like the obedient little dogs they were. Madame Hydra made her entrance like she just descended from Olympus itself. “I got to admit you’ve got some balls just bursting in the Avengers’s compound like it was no biggie”, Stark said before landing in the middle, the rest of team dispersed at every corner of the room. “It wasn’t difficult”, Madame Hydra replied with venom and confidence. She advanced at Stark’s level who took his helmet down, looking him up and down. “No need for more fuss. I just passed by getting to get back my pets”, she said her eyes switching from you to Barnes. “Not gonna happen”, replied Natasha. Madame Hydra’s laugh coldly echoed around the room, “Are you sure about that?”, she challenged the Black Widow.

Stepping back to where she previously was, she said “Well, I’m sorry my visit must be cut short. We have a world to blow up.” Turning around at the Avengers, she firmly declared, “Kill them!” As soon as her words fell from her mouth, you pointed your gun towards Natasha, while Bucky pointed his towards Sam. Tony was about to activate his armor in defense, when Wanda advised him otherwise, her hands glowing towards Vision and Hulk. Shocked he faced back to Madame Hydra when he was met with Steve pointing a gun at him. “What the hell Rogers?”, he whisper-yelled angrily. “Sorry Tony. Looks like you’re not such a genius after all if you didn’t see it coming. We needed to infiltrate the team, make you think we were with you, gain your trust and man how easy was that.”

“Why are you doing this?”, spat Natasha towards you. “You used to be a double agent, you know how it works. Plus, I don’t like the way you look at my man”, you responded. Her eyes flicked to Bucky but you chuckled, “Not him.” Her eyes widened, finally realizing you were talking about Steve. Sam’s rage was painted on his eyes, “I hate you”, he mumbled at Bucky who smirked amused. “Wanda, love, you don’t want to do this”, Vision’s voice filled the room, everyone’s antics making Madame Hydra roll her eyes. “You have no idea what I want”, Wanda commented her eyes glowing more and more.

She concentrated her strength, managed to use Vision’s stone power and project it at Hulk. The combination of hers and the soul stone’s power were what got to be the Hulk’s end. When the strongest of the Avengers was down, Wanda used her powers to destroy Vision’s stone and him along. You and Bucky pressed your triggers, ending two more Avengers. “I thought we were friends Steve”, Tony’s voice trembling. “Hail Hydra”, chanted Steve before pressing the trigger, killing the most famous man on the planet.

The silence in the room was broken by Madame Hydra’s applause and laugh, while all four of you harbored stern expressions. “Wow, you really did it. I’m so proud of you”, she nodded yours and Steve’s way. “And look at you Soldat, back home”, she smiled at him. Her gaze then landed to Wanda. “You. You are the surprise. I didn’t think you would join.” Wanda simply shrugged, “Stark killed my family, so I killed his.”

“Good, good”, the boss exclaimed content. “Let’s go back to work.” “There’s one left”, you declared. She looked at you perplexed and that’s when Steve took the opportunity and shot her. The other Hydra agents reached out to their guns but Wanda stopped them. “I’m your new leader now”, declared Steve firmly. You and Bucky took place next to him. “Either you follow Captain Hydra’s command or you can join Viper”, exclaimed Bucky while pointing at their former leader. No one opposing to the change of leadership, the four of you left without looking back at the carnage inside, your mission fulfilled.

At Steve’s command, Hydra was prospering, the organization’s plans taking form. You and Steve could finally be together without hiding yourselves. Proving your loyalty, the high placed trusted Steve and your team with the placement of all Hydra bases, requiring the four of you to personally train the new recruits, since you knew all the opponent’s tactics.

Everything was going perfectly fine until one day all Hydra bases were targeted at the same time across the globe. Steve, Bucky, Wanda and you were in the middle of a meeting with the organization’s high bosses when the building’s alarm echoed. You managed to take them safely outside, leading them to a secret panic room but were stopped by them.

Standing in front of you were the Avengers in all their glory. “Well well well, look who we found”, exclaimed Tony with a large smile. Passing the initial shook, one of Hydra’s leaders looked at Steve and cursed him, “You lying bastard. You played us. And you! You –“, “I what? Come on spill it”, you encouraged him menacingly, the vibranium plates whirring. “I think they should know, don’t you”, interrupted Tony.

“Your little leader and Assets here have been double, triple crossing? I lost count but the important information here is that they made you think that they were Hydra, pretty good I might add. Almost too good”, said Tony. Natasha took the rest of the explanation in hand, “Anyway, they tricked you into believing that they were Hydra and infiltrated the Avengers in order to kill us but of course they’ve always been on our side. They fake killed us, infiltrated you and gathered all the intel they needed to locate ALL the bases and destroy them from within.”

“The real question here is when in the hell did you two become a couple”, Stark turned towards you and Steve. You both declared at the same time with a smile at the corner of your lips, “2014″. “How?”, counterattacked Sam. “Fury”, you both mumbled. “After Shield fell and I lost Bucky’s track, I knew that the only way I could be a step ahead was to infiltrate Hydra. That’s when Fury introduced me to Y/N who was already infiltrated. She told me the do’s and don’ts and yeah”, explained Steve.

“Returning to out little revelation. How are we alive? Easy, thanks to my super genius brain and Stark hologram system who molded us and who were the ‘real victims’. Tadaaa”, finished Stark. “You’re fools if you think that you extinguish Hydra that easily. Cut one head and two more wi-“, “Yeah yeah we know the song”, you cut him off. “What’s the status?”, Bucky nodded at the Avengers. “All the bases have been hit”, replied Sam. “Good”, you exclaimed before shooting the remaining Hydra leaders.

There was a tension in the air, the silence finally being cut by Natasha’s comment, “You really shot me in the tit? Not cool.” You chuckled and made your way, engulfing her in a hug. “Sorry.” Everyone greeted each other after spending weeks apart, ones pretending being dead and the others being part of a not so secret evil organization. You went all home to the compound, enjoying being back with the team again. After a well-deserved shower, everyone joined in the living room, a drink in hand. “So, there’s a question that keeps coming back in my mind. I finally want to know what the hell was going on between you and Bucky?”, asked Sam confused.

You chuckled and looked at Bucky who encouraged you to explain. “Well, we never hated each other, just pretended it to keep mine and Steve’s a secret. Even though I have to admit that sometimes you pushed it bro”, you said and looked at Bucky. “Excuse me, you literally put a gun in my hand and obliged me to shoot you.” “Yeah yeah, you still crying about that”, you joked. “No but we’re actually pretty good friends. Bucky saved me when I was a child. I could never thank him enough for it and for keeping Steve and my cover intact”, you continued. “You have nothing to thank me for, I did what I had to do. Also sorry for you know, all the horrible things that were said, I absolutely didn’t mean it.”

The rest of the night continued of you explaining your infiltration more in detail. At some point, Steve stood up to grab himself another glass of mead. Tony plastered himself next to him. “So, what now?”, he asked the blond. He turned towards the scene, looking at you. “I guess now that I’ve found the right partner, I’m finally ready to settle down. Haven’t decided where yet. A farm, cottage or in a small island, maybe.” “You’re retiring on me old man?” Steve chuckled and nodded, “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Stark nodded, “Alright, we’ll handle the paperwork tomorrow. Enjoy your final night with us then.”

Steve sat down next to you, your eyes looking up at him. He leaned and whispered “I love you” in your ear. “Love you too”, you whispered back and felt his lips leave a peck on your forehead. You pressed against his warmth, glad to have this whole Hydra episode behind you and finally be able to love him fully and openly.

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crusherthedoctor · 3 years

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Sonic Heroes: Sweet or Shite? - Part 1: SILVER

There are some heroes I like. And there are some heroes I don’t like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That’s where this comes in.

This is a series in which I go into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the heroes in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I’ll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves over the course of time. Two things to keep in mind:

1. These reviews will be focusing mainly on game portrayals. Though alternate media will occasionally be mentioned, it'll be for the sake of adding onto a point if a portrayal is similar enough, or to compare and contrast if a portrayal is different enough.

2. These are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don’t bite. :>

Anyhow, for today’s installment, I decided to challenge myself by starting off with a complicated one. Born from the future, and never content to stay put in said future, it's the saviour whose debut came from the most unfortunate game... Silver the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the distant future, there was an idealistic young hedgehog named Silver, gifted with the power of telekinesis for reasons unknown. With his amazing potential, he was truly destined for a wonderful, prosperous li-just kidding, it was shit.

“All two of us.”

For as long as he knew, the world was forever plagued by Iblis, the terrible Flames of Disaster. Cities stood in ruin, flames stood high, the floor was lava... it was a bitter life to be certain, all thanks to Iblis. Not even defeating the titular creature did much good, since it would simply come back to be a shitty boss fight another day. What was he - and his friend, Blaze, a character we definitely never saw before and definitely didn't have a completely different backstory before - to do?

Trust the first person he sees, of course. Even if they look like they might be related to the same Flames of Disaster that he fights so constantly.

If he had eyelids, he'd be winking at the camera.

This mysterious fellow, Mephiles the Dark, informed Silver that if he were to wipe out Iblis for real, he would need to take a trip into the past, and eliminate the root of the problem... Sonic the Hedgehog? That was what Mephiles claimed, yes. What was his proof? There was no proof.

That was good enough for Silver.

Oh look, it's Fleetway Sonic.

After an elaborate series of events, which should sound exciting but really isn't because it was just Silver going “Iblis Trigger grrr” in varying tones of voice, he was finally able to corner the blue hedgehog... twice! And despite having less fighting know-how than the hero who saved the world plenty of times, he effortlessly came close to killing the blue hedgehog... twice!

This looks like a jobbing for...

Why twice? The first time was halted by Sonic's friend Amy Rose, who Silver had met beforehand after she mistook him for Sonic, an understandable mistake that even the keenest of eyes would be forgiven for making.

The second time was also interrupted, this time by Shadow the Hedgehog. There's only room for one controversial non-blue male hedgehog in this franchise, sonny boy. Actually, his reasons were more benevolent than that: he wanted to show Silver the truth about what was going on, by time travelling to the incident that gave birth to Iblis. Why was one able to to this, so long as more than one Chaos Emerald was present? No one knew.

That was good enough for Silver.

“I challenge you to a dumb-off.”

As it turned out, Iblis was one half of a sun god called Solaris, the other half being the aforementioned Mephiles. The Duke of Soleanna wanted to reunite with his late wife by harnessing Solaris' power, which succeeded from a certain point of view since he's dead now too. The resulting blunder split Solaris into two halves. One half was all brawn, with little capacity for intelligence. The other half was Iblis.

Understanding the error of his ways, and after making peace with Sonic, Silver went back to the future to try something different, which consisted of doing the same thing he always did. Luckily for him, the script decided it would work this time, albeit at the cost of Blaze sacrificing herself... Maybe? Sort of? It’s not entirely clear what happened to her, and it’s not like this was the last we ever saw of her.

~La laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, heading to a better game, la laaaaaa~

But ohhhhh nooooo, turns out THAT didn't solve anything either! In the present, Sonic was killed by Mephiles, after the latter realised he should probably do that already if he wanted to make any progress at all with his plan. This incident led to Iblis being brought into the present, and they fused to become the omnipotent Solaris once more. Such power... such divinity... such devastation...

Actually, he was really easy. The antlion from Underground Zone was harder.

Manchild robots - 1, god of time - 0.

With their super forms in tow, Silver, Shadow, and the revived Sonic joined forces to defeat Solaris, with Sonic in particular going the extra step in retconning Solaris out of existence entirely. Since time itself reset, meaning Iblis was no longer a memory, Silver's timeline was given a second chance. What was he to look forward to in this new, promising future?

Shit.

The Design: Let's take a closer look at Silver's appearance, shall we?

Or rather, a certain thing that's wrong with it.

He's holding up fifteen fingers.

Yes, you all know what I'm pointing to: the hairstyle. Let it be known that I'm very aware of the intention behind this design choice. It's supposed to be based on the Japanese Red Maple Leaf, which holds a lot of relevant symbolism for Silver's character. This is a fine idea in theory, and I can respect the intent and the creativity.

But here's the thing: If it looks like a ganja leaf, people are going to say it looks like a ganja leaf. I know some fans will gnash their teeth at me saying this, but the fact of the matter is that intentions and ideas, no matter how good they may be on paper, don't always translate well into the final product. Unleashed Secret Rings Black Knight Sonic '06 in general is certainly no stranger to showcasing examples of that, and Silver's hairstyle is no exception. There are ways to incorporate symbolism in a character’s design without making them look like meme bait in the process, and no amount of “umm ackshually” will change that, I'm afraid.

That said, there's another reason why I'm staying clean of Silver marijuana: it doesn't work for a hedgehog character. With the other hedgehogs, their hairstyles are simple and get the point across: Sonic's goes without saying, Shadow's is more angular to befit a slightly rougher hero, and Amy's is a cute bob cut of sorts. But Silver? Even without the ganja, you've still got the two tentacles making up the back of his head.

I'd rather not be reminded of hentai quills, thanks.

“I thought Crusher-san would like it :’(”

I do find it hilarious that they went through numerous designs for Silver, and this was what they chose to go with. Some of his prototype designs may have fared better had any of them been used instead... but we didn't end up with any of those ones. We ended up with this one, therefore I'm judging this one.

But don’t worry, it’s not all bad with Silver...

The Personality: As far as actual character goes, Silver's personality is as straightfoward as most characters in the series, yet it's no less interesting, because it took a while for it to fully evolve to what it currently is. The seeds of his character - a good-natured yet awkward and rather insecure kind of guy, who doesn't fully understand how the present time works - have always been there, but it was often downplayed in earlier titles due to him being hungry for Iblis Trigger blood... or being an arsehole for no reason.

Although to be fair, everyone in Rivals is an arsehole for no reason.

Eventually though, after the writers gave him a Snickers, these traits got more opportunity to shine. Mostly in side media admittedly, but it's been noted in the games as well. With no Iblis to angst over, he's proven to be a surprisingly bubbly chap, who just wants to know how you're all doing, fellow anthro kids. And whereas his naivety was previously used for intended tragedy to benefit the evil plan of a guy who thought taking the -istoph- out of Mephistopheles would make him inconspicuous, now it's been used for a bunch of low-key contexts that do a much better job at endearing him to the player.

Finally, something I can relate to.

Hell, he even seems to have learned from the Mephiles incident, as he was quick to make it clear to the next shadowy deep-voiced anthro with demonic eyes he met that he wasn't gonna fall for any of them fibs no more, ya hear?

“YouTube and Twitter don’t count.”

All in all, it works well enough, in my opinion. His personality does pave the way for some funny and wholesome moments, and since they’re no longer trying to build him up like he’s Shadow 2.0, he's nowhere near as much of a tool as he was before. So I guess you could say... I like it?

Does this mean I can say that I like the character as a whole then, design and '06-induced idiocy aside?

Well, not quite...

The Execution: This is where the complication part comes into play. We know now that I like his personality, not so much his design, but that's only the half of it. It would be more accurate to say that I like his personality... and dislike everything else.

Aside from that, obviously.

For starters, the creation process for his character and story was summed up with, in their own words, “Think Trunks from Dragon Ball Z”. So he comes off as rather lazy and uninspired. Now I'm not expecting my Sonic characters to be 100% unique, there's always going to be similarities to other franchises no matter what you do, even if subconsciously or by complete coincidence. Taking inspiration in itself is no big deal at all.

But... was that it? Copying a DBZ character to such a blatant extent? Was there no other thought put into it?

Naturally, this ties into an overarching problem: the franchise's mid-00's habit of trying way too hard to be the anthro Dragon Ball Z. Sonic has had DBZ influences since the early days, with the Chaos Emeralds and Super Sonic, but it didn't assimilate itself into every waking aspect of his universe. It was merely an additional flavor that added to the complete package, in the same way that a Death Star with a moustache didn't mean the franchise was suddenly Star Wars the Hedgehog.

But come the turn of the millenium, nearly every main title in the series ended with Super Sonic and/or Super Shadow saving the day, while everyone else either stood around being useless, or only helping in ways that no one actually cares about. Including the in-universe President apparently, since only Sonic and Shadow were featured in the photo on his desk.

Amy smiled. “I guess the rest of us can go fuck ourselves, huh?”

This reached its peak with - of course - Sonic '06, with Silver in particular being an obvious result of this then-ongoing trend. And yes, it would be unfair to use him as a scapegoat, considering it was already a problem long before he turned up. But moreso than even Shadow, it's an era that Silver is forever a relic of, for better or for worse.

But it doesn't stop there. Since Silver is considered a mainstay character, his gimmick of being from the future also creates problems of its own, because in order for him to make further appearances, he keeps turning up for little explained reason, and thus he suffers the Deadly Six problem of being shoved into places where he doesn't belong, for fanservice's own sake. Take Sonic Colours DS for example, where he went back in time JUST to check out Eggman's theme park... Okay...?

On one hand, I’d visit it too, since it's made by Eggman. On the other hand, I’d stay clear of it, since it's made by Eggman.

And when there IS a justification with more weight to it? It's just recycling the '06 routine of trying to avert his ruined future, which isn't much better. The cause may differ depending on the story, but if his future is a permanent shitehole for one reason or another, he might as well cut out the middle man and stay in the present altogether, since that's where his friends are anyway. But they seem intent on not doing that, despite the future schtick being a noose around his neck at this point.

In hindsight, maybe this was a hint to how the rest of the arc would turn out.

And then there's his dynamic with a certain purple cat... No, not Big. The other one.

“I’m here, by the way.”

Simply put: I don't like this dynamic. At all. Or rather, I don't like how they keep milking it. Blaze's backstory was radically changed to justify her presence in Silver's future, and it really shows, since she barely even shows up half the time, as if the developers themselves forgot she was in the game. But her backstory has since been restored to her original alternate dimension interpretation, so hanging around with the grey hedgehog is all good now, right?

To be brutally honest, I probably wouldn't care for this dynamic regardless. But I would be more willing to tolerate it, and I'd refrain from groaning every time they're seen together... if they weren't intent on playing it up so much in spite of '06 being wiped out, sometimes with a bit of commentary involving their thoughts and memories, which only succeeds at making things more confusing. If Blaze is around, Silver will be nearby, and if he's not at first, he will be soon enough. This franchise does have a problem in general with restricting who's allowed to interact with who (I personally believe Sonic Heroes may have led to this, or at least it accelerated it), but I'd argue it's at its most insufferable here, with Blaze's potential and her entire world taking a backseat to being the sidekick of Ganja Man.

And you might say “Well, it's part of the franchise now, so you'll just have to accept it”. To which I ask: Have you accepted Two Worlds? Have you accepted Solo Sonica? Have you accepted Sonic's friends not doing much as of late?

Yeah. That's what I thought. “It’s just how it is” doesn’t mean you can’t criticise it.

Meanwhile, Marine is lucky enough to get so much as a shout out.

So yeah, I have quite an extensive list of grievances involving poor Silver. But... very little of it has to do with him, right? They're all indirect problems that he just so happens to be linked to, as opposed to someone like Chris Thorndyke, who is genuinely a shit character through and through. This is more comparable to Tails being bitchy in Lost World, or Amy being manipulative in Chronicles, or Sonic being a smug dumbass in IDW, or Shadow not wearing a Hawaiian shirt in Boom. Frustrating, regrettable, but not really the character's own fault.

Yet even after all that, there's one last kick in the teeth... How do you fix all this? And how do you fix it when he's since gained a sizable fandom, many of whom like him for these very attributes? If you leave it as it is, you're stuck with this big, awkward mess that everyone pretends to ignore. If you try to do something about it, you'll get complaints about disrespecting the True Silver Spirit, and you’ll get questions about why you didn't create a new character instead... And if you did use a new character for the sake of a clean slate, THEN you'd get complaints about not using Silver.

It's a tough call to be sure, and it's such a shame because like I said, I do appreciate his personality, so I can't say he's bad outright. But with all this... clutter, I can only put him in the average category. So, in he goes.

Crusher Gives Silver a: Thumbs Sideways!

Well, I'm glad this one's out of the way. Putting my thoughts into words with Silver was harder than it should have been. I do slightly regret starting this series off on a rather downer note, but rest assured, it's a lot more positive from this point onwards, since while I have higher praise for some heroes more than others, the hero characters as a whole fare a lot better than the majority of villains not named Eggman.

I guess you could say that I hope to show why Sonic's friends aren't as shitty as the haters would suggest. ;)

#Sonic Heroes: Sweet or Shite?#Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog #Silver the Hedgehog

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papers4me · 3 years

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Fruits Basket, Se03. ep 5,(part 1)

In part 1 of this post, more than analyzing, I want to understand few confusing things first. I’m not annoyed or angry, I’m just confused & trying to piece things together, so, kindly don’t feel off with my usage of (!!!) & (???). lol. I’ll ONLY discuss two things here that confuse me a lot. ( Real ep review/ analysis will be in part 2)

1- Momiji’s romantic love for tohru (the real love triangle). What?!!!!!

I’m so shocked that momiji loves tohru romantically! So, in order to understand ( where did this come from!!) I re-visited his scenes with tohru since se01 & trying to see if I missed anything! Below is my speculations:

Is it love at first sight?!!! When Momiji first met tohru he kissed her on the cheek. I’ve always thought lightly that in the eyes of the reserved Japanese (bowing is greeting), all Europeans (kissing on the check is greeting). hence, Momiji’s kiss, he’s half Europea. However, perhaps it is a Kureno/ Arisa type of love at 1st sight/kiss?! kureno nearly kissed Arisa on the lips on their 1st official meeting. But Kureno/Arisa kiss was meant to be romantic/sexual with adult kureno’s “ I wanted to taste her lips”. but Momiji’s is a peak on the cheek & he was a child, so... I don’t think he’s struck by love before he’s officially introduced to us the audience.

Is it gradual growing love like kyo’s ? in all Momiji/ tohru eps, he always just wanted to play with her, visit places & spend time together. (hot spring & beach vacation) are his own ideas. But momiji didn’t want tohru exclusively. He intentionally invited both yuki & kyo to the hot spring & even was begging kyo to come. He invited all zodiacs to the beach & wanted all to spend time together. I believe that the hot spring ep especially showed momiji as this playful, innocent & naive kid, wanting to share tohru’s females’ hot spring section. I don’t think momiji was madly in love at that time. He was a child going “ waaaa~, kyo hit me” & jumping here & there.

So, summer vacation? but then again, Momiji slept with the children & tohru doted on them all. He defended tohru but they all defend her & love her. he said to kyo that he “selfishly wanted to be with tohru” but I didn’t catch any romantic hints from that. Was it really that time?? they all wanted to spend time with tohru. Yuki said “ I’ll kidnap you”, kyo agreed to go to the beach right away, kisa was glued to her to the point of annoying hiro! So, when? & why not let us as the audience know abt momiji’s feelings.

Is it related to opening up to tohru abt his family issues? He confessed to tohru abt his dad, mom & momo. She cried for him & hugged him. I never got the feeling in all those scenes that he was in love! it seemed to me like friendship love similar to hana’s/Arisa’s or siblings love substituting his nonexistent relationship with momo.

Is it just me?? I always saw momiji as this baby in toddler clothes, jumping, laughing & a ray of sunshine! A child but with the most mature heart & mind. Tohru didn’t help momiji, he was already helping himself first & reaching healthy conclusions abt how he should deal with his own traumas. So, perhaps (Me) not seeing him as a teenager stopped me from seeing his romantic love? but they showed me hiro/kisa’s love. Elementary school kids! so?

Regardless of when he fell in love or how, the point is, this is heart-breathtakingly tragic! cuz (a) tohru never saw him more than a child at first, then as a precious friend, (b) she’s intensely in love with kyo, which brings us to tohru’s core issues. (Tohru loosing yet another loved one). Tohru’s own issues aren’t fully explored yet, but her love for kyo has been blatantly hammered to us since se01 finale! this is because kyo being locked in the cat room equals (death) which parallels her mom’s (death). Tohru will be living her tragic trauma again but this time, kyo replacing kyoko! Thus, giving tohru a room for growth & character development.Tohru’s intense love for kyo was shown in by the drastic change in her attitude in se01, ep.24, chasing firmly after him even when he pushed her & refusing to let go until he’s back home cuz she wants to! then yuki blatantly saying “ she loves him, too, the way she looks at him“ im se02, ep22 & “don’t worry, tohru, he won’t accept (the other girls confession)” in se02, ep 17 & all her scenes with kyo in that ep where she’s scared he’ll let go of her & other scenes throughout the 3 seasons.

...so why momiji’s impossible & unrequited love is introduced?

I believe it is to push kyo to not let go of tohru. To throw kyo into this internal conflict between selflessly letting go of tohru so she could be happy (like hatori did with kana) & selfishly wanting her to be his lover ( like haru). Kyo himself expressed these two conflicting thoughts in se02, ep, 9 “ I hoped we could always be together somewhere far off (selfish love) & “ I don’t want to take anything from you (selfless love). So, momiji is challenging kyo in a way making him realize that selfish love might not be bad afterall & selfless love could be harmful! cleverly reversing the two concepts. So, I get why this love triangle was introduced. but whyyyy momiji! T_T.. choose someone else, Writer-San! poor Momiji we learned abt his love the same ep we learned it hopeless & he can’t pursue! T_T. couldn’t you at least put the two scenes far away, so I get time to grieve his broken heart! T_T.

2- Yuki/Machi ( Yuki is in a such hurry!!!!)

You could use the analogy of yuki’s starting the story as a (baby/child) taken cared by his mother (tohru) who taught him to be a person (all se01), Yuki took this knowledge as a (kid/teenager) & formed friendship on his own with (kakeru) in (se02). it is not after yuki became a true equal friend to kakeru, chocking him & equally teasing him, that Machi was allowed to talk abt her self as a real character with agency & thoughts (se02, ep24), now yuki must be a (teenager/Man) & fall romantically in love, hence (se03, eps 2 & 3). All this is amazing. So, I kinda expected the following:

yuki won’t take as long as kyo in confessing/ realizing romantic love since he/machi don’t have a shared baggage nor obstacles from the past.

he won’t be as fast as haru’s “ i love you/ kiss/ make love”. But then again, Haru & Isuzu have already known each other for years & are already in love, they just put a name to their desires & went on with it.

So, yuki should be in the middle, noticing, knowing abt the person, crushing, then realizing love & wanting a future together! Cuz yuki is this type of person who values taking time thinking thoroughly, right??

I’m confused as yuki wanted to confess the curse & to be with machi romantically right after the machi background scene? I know not everything should be on-screen & him falling slowly in love could be off-screen... the flower is a yuki/machi “ noticing her stage”, her fighting with him over the red leaf is “ noticing him stage” for her. but there’s only ONE intimate scene of them together! Her raw tears when he comforted her in her flat (the chalk scene is bonus). but.. I never expected that yuki is planning to confess his curse & feelings this early!!!!!! yuki! are you SURE she loves you? ( I mean we the audience know 100%) but how is HE sure?? yuki going this big stage so soon felt a bit un-yuki. but then agin, perhaps that’s part of the new changed confident yuki? I duno, I mean Machi was never given a proper time to prosper, but yuki was always given all the time there is to explore his feelings & even other ppl’s feelings! He’s there in kyo/tohru ‘s story to tells the audience they’re in love, he’s there in Isuzu/ haru to mend their gap. I mean yeah there gotta be more scenes abt them for sure, we’re in ep 5, but I never expected a the intruppted confession now & this soon!

perhaps it’s just me, again?! Maye I’m so invested in yuki & accustomed to him always taking time that I kinda expected more before he’s thinking of confessing. I really thought that confessing his curse/love is yuki/machi’s own story climax compared to kyo/tohru’s story climax with kyoko & Isuzu/Haru story climax after breakup, oh well. I’m positive we’ll see more of yuki’s journey with machi as yuki is rarely absent in any eps. More scenes to come!

That’s the end of my headache! XD. I apologize for giving you headache if you were kind enough to read all this. kindly, don’t spoil future scenes or sub-plots to me. I’m just expressing my shock at how fast the plot moved! just few eps ago, I was watching motoko love journey that survived 3 seasons! Hands down Motoko wins in furuba! XD. Jokes aside, Can I say we’re officially where “the plot thickens?” Is it going down? This ep felt like a bullet train!

Side Notes:

I never liked the “children in deep love theme” that hiro has as children shouldn’t suffer the romantic pining & suffering as teenagers & adult ppl, so, I really appreciated that Momimi altho was 15 when we 1st saw him, lived his childhood without the “oh my! I’m so in love~ pining~ suffer”.

The story introduced ( momoiji in romantic love) the same ep Momiji got tall, so making it as sth he expressed once he hit puberty like most boys his age. He even said it “ I’m a man now”, which is again sth boys feel once they get taller & experience other feelings.

Momiji never catches a break! T_T. My son is denied the types of love he wants (parental love, sibling love & now romantic love! ).

I don’t picture momiji/tohru together as a couple cuz it wasn’t built that way in the story & most of their moments weren’t romantic/sexual tension. to me it was the ultimate friendship!

I wish my son finds love on-screen! If Moyoko/Nao gets on-screen love, give my boy on-screen love, too!

Nah~ forget that~ I’m just sad for my son, I don’t want to see him paired with any character quickly to compensate him not having tohru. This is not doing momiji justice. So, I get the ED art of him with Momo.

If kyo has someone who loves him one-sidedly (Kagura), tohru now has someone who love her one-sidedly (momiji).

The kagura/kyo confrontation was heart breaking, but it had to happen cuz kyo knew she loved him & had to stop her. I hope Momiji never confesses to tohru, I wouldn’t be able to survive seeing tohru turn him down.Tohru & momiji are just too kind for such sad situation.

So, does this mean that the two characters with unrequited love are Kagura & momiji? they’re the only characters with no romantic partner in the ED.

Hana is without a lover in the ED, too! XD. Thank God! I love her crush on kazuma, cuz hello~ who won’t crush on this hunk! & teenage girls can crush on grown up men rather than boys (I know I did, but it was just my girlish crush). I’m thankful it is just a crush & teasing kyo tactics & not true romance! don’t give me another Arisa/Kureno, plz. lol.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #confused paper #momiji sohma

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rabble-dabble · 4 years

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The Cancer King's Court ~ The Humans

Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde, and Jade Harley/The Crimson Defender, The Lady Clairvoyant, and The Witch Scientist.

This version of Dave Strider came very close to becoming Davesprite in his timeline. Up until his final conversation with Rose.

Dave can’t stand the thought of leaving Rose to die all alone by herself. He’d grown close to her after spending so long with her in a doomed timeline. He couldn’t bare to lose her. So, he gets an idea.

If he goes God-Tier, he could potentially bring Rose back in time with him. So, Dave puts off time traveling back in exchange for reaching his quest bed. Upon going God-Tier, Dave brings Rose with him back in time to save her life, seeing how he can now just fly over to her planet and pick her up.

The two explain their situation to their doppelgangers, causing them both to pester John to try and stop him from following Terezi’s advice. Like in canon, John reconsiders and manages to avoid dying. God-Tier Dave is now able to steamroll the challenges of LOHAC with ease, guiding everyone and their counterparts to their quest beds so that they can reach God-Tier as well. Ultimately, this seems like the best case scenario…. until everyone discovers the timeline is now doomed.

Simply put, Dave was supposed to become Davesprite and Rose was supposed to be left behind. Because that didn’t happen, Paradox Space judged the session to be void.

This effects Dave more than he lets on, since it was his decision to take Rose with him in the first place. Both Roses are able to sus this out pretty easily, even as he tries to bottle it up, and they motivate John, Jade, and Other Dave to comfort him. The Roses conclude that the Horrorterrors may be able to help them, so they go to them for guidance.

The Horrorterrors remember a similar situation with one of their “chosen”, so they inform The Invincible Heir of the situation. Equius gets Karkat to bring him and Nepeta in to investigate. After seeing how well they’ve managed to ace their session, the Meowrails decide it would be a good idea to get some of them to join the Court.

Equius approaches the Roses first, believing them to be “human highbloods of proper breeding and stature” that he can easily approach. While they mistake his mannerisms for humility at first, they quickly put the pieces together and explain, no, humans don’t have a caste system. Nepeta takes Equius aside so he can recuperate and the two come back after a moment. They explain that they may have a means of salvaging their doomed timeline. However, it would require some morally dubious actions.

While the moirails do preface the info with the knowledge that all these atrocities will be undone, the Roses are still pretty horrified. They meet up with humans to discuss this and, at first, it seems like everyone is in favor of rejecting the offer outright. Until Dave speaks up. He and Rose came from a doomed timeline because John was manipulated. They ended up landing right in another one because Dave trying to save his only remaining friend was arbitrarily declared a mistake. Who’s to say that this isn’t happening to thosands of other versions of them across the multiverse?

Rose recognizes he’s only saying this to vent out his guilt and counters that they have no way of knowing if the offer is legitimate. Equius and Nepeta’s explanation sounded almost cultish from their perspective, after all. Dave immediately concedes and almost finds himself confessing how much all of this is weighing on him.

Then John and Jade raise their points. If these guys are willing to kill thousands of people, what will they do to them if they refuse the offer? A doubly valid point, seeing how the Court specifically targets God-Tiers.

Silence reigns over the humans. Equius and Nepeta had been so polite that they hadn’t even considered how pressed up against the wall they were.

So, they change gears into figuring out a plan to beat the Cancer King’s Court.

Dave, Rose, and Jade decide to go undercover. Pretending to agree to the offer so that they could find intel to Other Dave, Other Rose, and John. After all, the Court would probably be interested in having a Time Player, a Space Player, and a Seer on their team. The home team would still have two of those advantages at least, so their not losing much.

Dave, Rose, and Jade meet up with the moirails and say that they agree, on the sole condition that Other Dave, Other Rose, and John are spared. Equius and Nepeta agree and the three and inducted in.

Karkat doesn’t buy this for a second.

From what he remembers, the humans are a lot more intolerant of morally dubious actions. So, he decides to test their loyalty. He sends the three of them to gather up a bunch of God-Tiers for him to absorb, sending Gamzee with them so he can poke and prod at their minds all the while. Gamzee reports back that they’re spies after reading their minds and asks permission to kill them. Karkat shuts that down and chews him out for it. He instead takes the humans aside so he can convince them.

Firstly, he proves his intentions to them by making a big show of reviving a timeline left destroyed by Lord English in front of the whole Court, instructing them to act like this is a normal thing. He allows the destoyed civilizations within to rebuild and guides them to prosper. Then, he shows them what The Condescension is capable of with her current power, letting them witness how she bends fate to her will. If he has that power, he could not only fix their doomed timelines, but save all doomed timelines everywhere.

He leaves them to think things over and immediately begins indoctrinating the revived timeline into his army. Another pawn towards his end game. They are indebted to their King, after all.

From the humans perspective, however, he made incredibly valid points. He revived an entire timeline, showing that his good intentions are genuine. Plus, the Condescension shows just what kind of horrific evil he’s up against and the kind of power he’ll have by the end of it. That last note leaves Rose hesitant. Power corrupts, after all. Dave and Jade are a lot more trusting, out of desperation and naivety respectively.

But, all the same, they know their friends probably won’t accept this. Rose elects to be the one to give the intel. They all agree, she’s the only one capable of lying to them. Even if it hurts like hell.

The Humans play the same role in the Court as Tavros does. People are more inclinded to trust them, so they’re good for gathering up God-Tiers. And, if they need to drag those God-Tiers in by force, a Time Player and a Space Player are hard to beat.

The Humans get along well with the trolls, all things considered. It helps that they couldn’t spend much time with them and are going in with a mostly clean slate.

The sole exception is Dave and Terezi. After all, Terezi is the whole reason Dave’s timeline was doomed. Terezi is willing to accept full responsibility, however, and apologizes for what her counterpart did in his timeline.

The two are able to get past that eventually, but Terezi soon starts asking some uncomfortable questions.

“JOHN’S TRUST 1N YOU S4V3D H1S L1F3. DON’T YOU F33L… D1RTY B3TR4Y1NG H1M L1K3 TH1S?”

“ok but like i’m not though. he’ll understand that. …he has to.”

How much of that is The Hung Jury and how much is Main Terezi, I’ll leave up to you.

Conversations between Rose and Kanaya are awkward here. Their romance was a bit of a boil. Rose barely knows this Kanaya, which throws her through a loop given they’re narried married in this timeline. The whole thing is rather surreal for both of them.

Ironically, the troll Rose spends most of her time with is Gamzee. Gamzee insists on having “smart sister poke around in this thinkpan of mine”. While Rose enjoys psycho analyzing him, that’s not what he’s there for. In truth, he’s planting thoughts into her head psionically. Making her side with the King more. He knows she’s the weak link in the human’s loyalty, so he’s going to keep her on lock.

Conversely, Jade spends most of her time with Tavros. They bond over a shared love of animals and over their timelines getting screwed for actions well outside their control. It helps that Tav is still nursing his crush on her. She’s lucky Gamzee hasn’t noticed.

To the King, the humans are among him most effective enforcers. If only their friends could see them now…

OKAY THE HUMANS BEING SMART IN THE BEGINNING AND THINKING LIKE “But what happens to us if we don’t go along” I LOVE I VERY MUCH LOVE THANKS

also I’m torn at the thought that dave is just thinking he fucked up because he wanted to save everyone even the doomed ones and he believes it’s his fault for making this doomed timeline I'm ;0;

AND THEN THE LYING LIKE I MIGHT CRY

also i’d like to think that john, double rose and double dave definitely knows somethings the Fuck Up (or at least rose and dave, john on the sense that he knows his friends are definitely more antsy around them now) and also that they hang out and converse a lot just being “left alone” in that timeline while their friends go obey king karkat’s orders. i mean they wouldn’t just SIT there, not dave or especially rose, so I bet they’d also kinda go out in the furthest ring in their timeline to try and find some info on cancer king while their friends are away. and then they might become a threat....

JSAHDFKASHDJ IM GOING TOO LONGER HERE’S YA ART!!

i mixed the three into kinda “team uniforms” because i’d imagine as being humans and having a very bad relationship with trolls in general (hello john almost dying called?? they want their timeline back) and when they first joined it kinda inforced on them that they’re a team collecting info for their friends back in the other timeline and looking like BFF gang with their stupid cool hoodies and jeans (lol!)

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 years

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

February 17, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

The crisis in Texas continues, with almost 2 million people still without power in frigid temperatures. Pipes are bursting in homes, pulling down ceilings and flooding living spaces, while 7 million Texans are under a water boil advisory.

Tim Boyd, the mayor of Colorado City, Texas, put on Facebook: “The City and County, along with power providers or any other service owes you NOTHING! I’m sick and tired of people looking for a damn handout!... If you are sitting at home in the cold because you have no power and are sitting there waiting for someone to come rescue you because your lazy is direct result of your raising! [sic]…. This is sadly a product of a socialist government where they feed people to believe that the FEW will work and others will become dependent for handouts…. I’ll be damned if I’m going to provide for anyone that is capable of doing it themselves!... Bottom line quit crying and looking for a handout! Get off your ass and take care of your own family!” “Only the strong will survive and the weak will parish [sic],” he said.

After an outcry, Boyd resigned.

Boyd’s post was a fitting tribute to talk radio host Rush Limbaugh, who passed today from lung cancer at age 70. It was Limbaugh who popularized the idea that hardworking white men were under attack in America. According to him, minorities and feminists were too lazy to work, and instead expected a handout from the government, paid for by tax dollars levied from hardworking white men. This, he explained, was “socialism,” and it was destroying America.

Limbaugh didn’t invent this theory; it was the driving principle behind Movement Conservatism, which rose in the 1950s to combat the New Deal government that regulated business, provided a basic social safety net, and promoted infrastructure. But Movement Conservatives' efforts to get voters to reject the system that they credited for creating widespread prosperity had little success.

In 1971, Lewis Powell, an attorney for the tobacco industry, wrote a confidential memo for the U.S. Chamber of Commerce outlining how business interests could overturn the New Deal and retake control of America. Powell focused on putting like-minded scholars and speakers on college campuses, rewriting textbooks, stacking the courts, and pressuring politicians. He also called for “reaching the public generally” through television, newspapers, and radio. “[E]very available means should be employed to challenge and refute unfair attacks,” he wrote, “as well as to present the affirmative case through this media.”

Pressing the Movement Conservative case faced headwinds, however, since the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) enforced a policy that, in the interests of serving the community, required any outlet that held a federal broadcast license to present issues honestly, equitably, and with balance. This “Fairness Doctrine” meant that Movement Conservatives had trouble gaining traction, since voters rejected their ideas when they were stacked up against the ideas of Democrats and traditional Republicans, who agreed that the government had a role to play in the economy (even though they squabbled about the extent of that role).

In 1985, under a chair appointed by President Ronald Reagan, the FCC stated that the Fairness Doctrine hurt the public interest. Two years later, under another Reagan-appointed chair, the FCC abolished the rule.

With the Fairness Doctrine gone, Rush Limbaugh stepped into the role of promoting the Movement Conservative narrative. He gave it the concrete examples, color, and passion it needed to jump from think tanks and businessmen to ordinary voters who could help make it the driving force behind national policy. While politicians talked with veiled language about “welfare queens” and same-sex bathrooms, and “makers” and “takers,” Limbaugh played “Barack the Magic Negro,” talked of “femiNazis,” and said “Liberals” were “socialists,” redistributing tax dollars from hardworking white men to the undeserving.

Constantly, he hammered on the idea that the federal government threatened the freedom of white men, and he did so in a style that his listeners found entertaining and liberating.

By the end of the 1980s, Limbaugh’s show was carried on more than 650 radio stations, and in 1992, he briefly branched out into television with a show produced by Roger Ailes, who had packaged Richard Nixon in 1968 and would go on to become the head of the Fox News Channel. Before the 1994 midterm elections, Limbaugh was so effective in pushing the Republicans’ “Contract With America” that when the party won control of the House of Representatives for the first time since 1952, the Republican revolutionaries made him an honorary member of their group.

Limbaugh told them that, under House Speaker Newt Gingrich, the Republicans must “begin an emergency dismantling of the welfare system, which is shredding the social fabric,” bankrupting the country, and “gutting the work ethic, educational performance, and moral discipline of the poor.” Next, Congress should cut capital gains taxes, which would drive economic growth, create hundreds of thousands of jobs, and generate billions in federal revenue.

Limbaugh kept staff in Washington to make sure Republican positions got through to voters. At the same time, every congressman knew that taking a stand against Limbaugh would earn instant condemnation on radio channels across the country, and they acted accordingly.

Limbaugh saw politics as entertainment that pays well for the people who can rile up their base with compelling stories—Limbaugh’s net worth when he died was estimated at $600 million—but he sold the Movement Conservative narrative well. He laid the groundwork for the political career of Donald Trump, who awarded Limbaugh the Presidential Medal of Freedom in a made-for-tv moment at Trump’s 2020 State of the Union address. His influence runs deep in the current party: former Mayor Boyd, an elected official, began his diatribe with: “Let me hurt some feelings while I have a minute!!”

Like Boyd, other Texas politicians are also falling back on the Movement Conservative narrative to explain the disaster in their state. The crisis was caused by a lack of maintenance on Texas’s unregulated energy grid, which meant that instruments at coal, natural gas, and nuclear plants froze, at the same time that supplies of natural gas fell short. Nonetheless, Governor Greg Abbott and his allies in the fossil fuel industry went after “liberal” ideas. They blamed the crisis on the frozen wind turbines and solar plants which account for about 13% of Texas’s winter power. Abbott told Fox News Channel personality Sean Hannity that “this shows how the Green New Deal would be a deadly deal for the United States of America.” Tucker Carlson told his viewers that Texas was “totally reliant on windmills.”

The former Texas governor and former Secretary of Energy under Trump, Rick Perry, wrote on House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy’s website to warn against regulation of Texas’s energy system: “Texans would be without electricity for longer than three days to keep the federal government out of their business,” he said. The website warned that “Those watching on the left may see the situation in Texas as an opportunity to expand their top-down, radical proposals. Two phrases come to mind: don’t mess with Texas, and don’t let a crisis go to waste.”

At Abbott’s request, President Biden has declared that Texas is in a state of emergency, freeing up federal money and supplies for the state. The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) has sent 60 generators to state hospitals, water plants, and other critical facilities, along with blankets, food, and bottled water. It is also delivering diesel fuel for backup power.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#political #newsletters #Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #deregulation #Texas #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP #climate #climate change #conservative narrative #political malpractice #Rush Limbaugh #right wing propaganda

4 notes · View notes

theholycovenantrpg · 4 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, HAYLEY! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF LUCA RICHE.

Admin Cas: Hayley, Hayley, Hayley. Your application felt, in a word, magical. You drew every one of us in to the romantic, rose-tinted world of Luca Riche, and I’m not sure any of us ever want to leave it. Luca is so good, so pure, so foolish, and evidence of that bled through your every word. And yet, your interpretation made him so much more than his love. He’s a hero, he’s a warrior — and for all his light, there’s darkness in him, too. The way you scattered quotes throughout your application really gave us insight into who Luca is beneath the surface. I’m so excited to leave our lovely, golden himbo in your hands, and I can’t wait to have my heart broken by him. Your faceclaim change to Daniel Sharman has been approved. Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Hayley

Age | 24

Personal Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | Well currently I’m unemployed so I have all the time in the world to just flood the dash with writing! This may change in January/February where I’ll likely be on a few hours per day in the evenings and more active on the weekends (I may also need a hiatus to move/settle in if I have to move to a new state just a heads up!!).

Timezone | EST

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | I would follow Rosey and her brilliant ideas to the ends of this earth

IN CHARACTER

Character | Luca Riche (FC change to Daniel Sharman? I can be flexible with alts depending on Jasper’s faceclaim as well!)

What drew you to this character? | Honestly what DIDN’T drive me to this character. Literally like everyone else I can’t help but love him the second I laid my eyes on him. He’s magnetic and just so, so good. Like pure and good and I’ll be honest I’m not quite used to playing characters who possess the literal light of the sun within them but that’s what drew me to him like he was a beacon asking me to challenge myself in the new year.

There is something just so incessantly good about Luca, which is perhaps rare amongst humans. The world has a way of finding light and corrupting it, and yet Luca remains nearly untouched. I think he’s not entirely blind to the evils of the world, having willingly taken on his role as a knight with the knowledge that he may have to and since has shed blood, but I think he still sees it and its potential as inherently good, which makes it all the more difficult to see the bad in things. That’s not to say he is entirely blind to it, but there are many things he does not see as suspicious or just willfully ignores, especially when it comes to his brother (more on them later). Of course, some things will clearly indicate to him that he should be wary, things in the vein of Samael’s entire presence, but in most cases, he is willing to give the benefit of the doubt.

I also love seeing a character who is so magnetic and who embraces that magnetism, yet hasn’t let it go to his head completely. I can imagine Luca as somewhat caught up in that reputation, as he knows the sacrifices he is encouraged and nearly obligated at this point to make, and yet he still does it willingly, not because it is expected of him, but because he wants to. He does it for love, for the love of humanity and this world and peace. He will set himself on fire to keep others warm, and yet does not boast of his flammability. Perhaps this savior complex has, in some instances, gone to his head, but overall, Luca doesn’t appear cocky or full of too much pride.

He sees himself as a hero, after all, and he knows what ends heroes may meet. Glory is but a small reward to receive while living, but as long as he lives, he will do all that he can, do all that heroes are meant to receive. Luca is well aware peace may only be sustained once he has given all there is to give of himself, his aching muscles and his still-beating heart, and that is why he will give and give, knowing what it does to him, until there is nothing left. He is so selfless in almost all regards, and yet the tinge of selfish desire to uncover the dreams he’s been having linger like a fog at the edges of his vision.

I’ll be honest in saying I haven’t written a character whose heart is full of as much love and light as Luca’s, but I also think it’s impossible for anyone to ever have as much love contained within them as Luca does. It’s as abundant as sunlight within him and he seems to give it out just as freely as the sun spreads her rays about the Earth. He is Helios, pulling the sun through the sky, ignoring any burn that may come to his flesh, for the people he loves receive its light, and for that, he is happy, he is whole.

And don’t even get me STARTED on the Riche brothers. I love their dynamic, the balance they bring, the sun and moon. The sun longs so much to be with his moon, and yet while they are destined to coexist together, the moon is so rarely willing to share his skies with the sun. That doesn’t stop Luca from trying, of course. I was so drawn to Luca in part because of the dynamic he shares with Jasper, because I just love foils and I love how intertwined their stories are, much to Luca’s pleasure and Jasper’s chagrin. A father Luca never knew and Jasper knew all too well being the reason they were brought together, so close yet so distant. Luca doesn’t know when to give up, especially when it comes to his brother, and that might just be the death of him, for, unbeknownst to him, it once was.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |

ONE. A cheering crowd. Sunlight glinting off his armor. Dust settling to reveal a beautifully colored dawn. A smile brighter than all of it. I want to explore the lengths Luca will go to in order to maintain peace across this land and bring some form of salvation to the people within it. They look to him for this, for him to uphold the values of these peaceful times and ensure that this land remains prosperous and happy, and he gladly shoulders the weight of this responsibility. I want to see the things they demand of him, and how increasingly challenging they may be. How much weight can one man withstand? What tasks in the pursuit of peace and salvation and justice may lead him to make tough, impossible, potentially immoral decisions? How much can one man sacrifice before he leaves himself too vulnerable, too spent, too weak to do all that they revere him for?

TWO. A cold sweat upon the back of his neck. Blurry faces. Shadowed intentions. A dagger. Waking up with a start. I’d love to see Luca discover more about his past life and explore how he would react to the truth. He’s already longing for answers after every brief glimpse his post-encounters with Samael bring him, but I want to explore what those answers look like and what he thinks of them, especially when he finally realizes who he is and how his story once ended. I think this will be a long-term plot, with brief glimpses and memories becoming clearer, where he may grapple with immense confusion and some denial before actually accepting the truth of his past. In this, I also want to see how far he may go for the truth, since this is the only thing Luca seems to be doing primarily for himself and his own gain. So used to being selfless, he finally finds one cause he cannot stay away from that is wholly his own — if he’s so used to sacrificing for others, what might he sacrifice to give himself a moment’s satisfaction?

To get there, Luca knows this requires spending more time with Samael, so I’d be really excited to plot that out and see the fallout! Luca does not like what he must do, and yet feels this pull to do it, and I can imagine it will take more of a toll on him than just these visions.

THREE. A hand rejected. Something just out of reach. Brows set in determination. Ignoring the warning signs. I so badly want to explore the dynamic of Luca and Jasper. There’s rich history between these two, not only in this life but the last. The shared loss of a father brought them together when the loss of Abel’s life had torn them from one another in the last life, and I want to see what elements of that life remain now, and what elements might be made clearer from the dreams and memories Luca has been unearthing as of late. He knows his brother opposes him in so many ways, and yet he sees the necessity in the balance they hold together. I want to explore how his view of his brother and love of his brother may change, if at all, once he learns the truth of what his old fate was. I’d love to see how he reacts, if there is any difference in the way he would see or treat Jasper, and what he might do to ensure the course of history does not repeat itself (that is, if he even imagines that as a possible threat now), if anything at all. This is stuff that would be plotted ooc! I know this one is a bit vague and leaves many directions open, but I want to ensure flexibility on my part to allow the story and other characters to also have their effects on Luca!

FOUR. Whispers in the streets. Learning from the past. Nature overtaking ruins. Second chances. I hope to see Luca encounter what is left of the Heretics, be it any hidden surviving members or relics from their rule. I think it could be a great moment of balancing the still-remaining grief from his father with the acknowledgement of the things he’s done — Luca has been able to keep that balance now at the Table, but that’s because he has nothing but the post-Heretic world to reference. I would love to see him challenged and forced to face the things his father has done head-on, and I want to see what lengths he might go to in order to rectify that. Perhaps he will lend so much of himself out of guilt and his naive desire for peace that he accidentally gives the Heretics (or a resurgence/birth or something similar to the Heretics) too much power and legitimacy, or perhaps he will learn that the past must be buried for a reason.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Did Cain murder Abel? Yes. The answer to both is yes I love to hurt

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation |

“The sun never truly sets, Luca. Not when you’re here.” Peace. Love. The bright sun of a new tomorrow. Luca holds so much love in his heart for this world, but even more for the world he knows it can become if peace and prosperity are ushered in. He wants to maintain the peace that others worked so hard to establish in this new world, and he wants to ensure the happiness and prosperity of the people who inhabit it now. It’s almost a quiet expectation that was laid upon him since birth; Luca was swaddled in stories of heroism and hope as much as he was swaddled in cloth blankets when the sun set. That energy has stuck with him all his life, virtue as abundant in his veins as sunlight, and thus he wants to keep this world peaceful, keep it pleasant, and help to usher in justice and prosperity and build a utopia for the people who look to him. After all, he sees humanity as good at its core, and thus wishes to help or save all he can.

“You may share his blood, but you do not share his heart. Yours is ten times bigger and wrapped in gold — yours is a treasure to behold.” There’s also this father-sized weight upon his shoulders that he could not ignore. At first, his knees buckled in grief when he tried to carry it, but now he lifts it upon strong shoulders, years of practice strengthening the muscle. He wants to usher in a different legacy for the Riche name because he knows so well the mixed reactions that had preceded him. He grew up hearing the whispers that followed his surname’s reputation when others thought the child could not hear. While they beamed at Luca, and some uttered words of pride for his legacy, others would whisper curses at his father, despite the adoration they felt for the spawn just within earshot. He wants people to hear his name and smile, to think of the peace he brought and the good he’s done, and hopefully the good his descendants will continue to do.

“What wills you to bear your soul, fleshy and vulnerable, to the hungriest of vultures?” Answers also drive Luca, in a sense, but mostly in the reason he spends time with Samael. He cannot help the curiosity and longing that his vivid dreams inject into his veins, he cannot help the pull of the river of this mysterious blood. He longs to see where it lasts, and if he has spent his life being so selfless, why should he not have one thing of his own? He seeks so little, he thinks, so surely he can justify his actions. He gives so much and yet looks for only one thing for himself, so despite the means in which he achieves it, it cannot be so bad, can it?

Character Traits | OPTIONAL. Please list 3 positive traits and 3 negative traits that you identify in the character you’re applying for.

+: selfless, brave, charismatic

-: too trustful, ignorant, doesn’t know when to quit

In-Character Para Sample |

When the sun finally kissed Luca goodnight with magnificent shades of orange and pink in its wake and the moon promised her glow would keep him alight until the sun’s valiant return, he fell asleep readily, trusting the safety she sang of. Once, as a child, he’d been afraid of the dark, begging his mom to keep a candle beside him as if she could will the fire’s intentions or even pull the sun out of hiding for her boy. Back then, it wasn’t until she reminded him that he shone brighter than any star in the night sky, that he was her guiding light when the sun could not be, that he settled, determined to illuminate this home even in his dreams. When he dreamt back then, he dreamt of heroes, of daring rescues and brave knights and the whispers of legends passed down through generations. Shining armor and great adventure and triumphant endings held a young Luca’s mind during the night.

Tonight, there were no heroes behind his eyes.

He awoke in a field unfamiliar. The grasses were tall and beginning to yellow with the dry heat of the summer, which beamed down upon Luca from a sun that seemed much harsher than the one he had loved. Already, sweat began to bead upon his forehead, and as he sat up and wiped the moisture away, he realized his hands were tanner than they typically were. Perhaps the summer sun had been extra brutal this year. Dirt caked under his nails mixed with the sweat from his palm as he wiped them on an unfamiliar tunic. This world he awoke in was not the one he’d fallen asleep in, and for a moment, he wondered if his body was even the one he’d left in slumber, as well.

Standing up, the grass tickled his calves, a greeting from nature he had been familiar with as a child. Luca looked around for some semblance of where he was, but the world offered no kind clues. Even the sun could not help her favorite child here with a helpful, guiding ray. The field was vast, nearly as far as the eye could see, though when turning around, Luca noticed the beginning trees of a forest — no, a garden. The trees looked strangely like those that greeted him whenever he visited the Garden of Eden, and yet he could not fathom that a possibility, for this land looked nothing like the Holy Land he’d called home for some years, now. Perhaps his mind just ached for even a touch of something familiar, he believed. The slightest similarity to soothe a confused ache in his mind.

A shuffle in the grass caused Luca to turn around and face its source, and while he knew he should have been filled with some sort of nervousness, some sort of wariness upon facing the unknown, he could only feel calm, as if he knew what he was about to encounter. Thankfully, he did not need to feel fear as he looked down at his new companion, a round sheep lazily approaching him through the grass, newly sheared for summer. A soft, pleased sigh escaped him, and his hand reached out to pet the dark head of the bleating creature, who leaned in expectedly to Luca’s touch.

When he pulled back from the creature, red stained his hand. Shocked, he sucked in a sharp breath as the world around him began to blur. The field felt an illusion out of focus, even the garden on its outskirts felt too far to have ever been real. The only thing that remained real, the only thing anchoring him to this place was the sheep, who, upon taking a step back from Luca, revealed a slowly growing red stain upon his neck. Blood’s crimson stain grew and grew about the sheep’s neck, and the color of the grass beneath it began to change to follow suit. Beside him grew a feeling Luca could not shake: though he could only see himself and the sheep, they were not alone. And whoever this presence was, He was satisfied.

Luca awoke with a start, his breathing desperate and ragged. His hands, clean and pale with the winter’s early nights, reached to wipe the cold sweat that spotted his forehead. He stayed upright in his bed for what felt like hours, unable to succumb to sleep again, until the sun arose and painted the sky with soft, apologetic clouds for abandoning him for so long. A dream, it had only been, and yet the feelings it brought did not pass, churning in his stomach and sticking to its walls like the sweetest of honeys or the thickest of bloods. Something about it felt much more real than the other fleeting escapes his mind entertained under the moon’s watchful gaze. The dream lingered on the tip of his tongue, evasive and then out of reach, and with it, a single word.

Sacrifice.

It was the first, and it would not be the last.

Extras | Pinterest

Luca said himbo rights (he is emotionally intelligent but not near as intelligent in the classical sense as Jasper!!!) and I support him.

HEADCANONS:

Scars. Being a knight, and seeing and training in combat, Luca has not been able to walk away unscathed. Due to the armor he’s worn in battle, most of his scars come from training, and many are from his early days when he still had much to learn. The most notable one runs along the back of his left arm above his elbow, from when he was shoved into a wall during a sparring match and met a nail that was sticking out of the wood. [Also, this one would depend on Jasper’s mun, but I think it would be interesting for Luca to have a scar that his brother gave to him. It could be they were sparring with swords and Jasper won with the tip of his blade to Luca’s neck. While he would not have killed his brother that day, it could have left a small scar beneath his chin. I just like the idea of it serving as an omen that Luca ignores in favor of noting that his brother was in a position of power over him but chose to do nothing to harm him.]

Religion. Luca believes in the Hundred Eyed God and can often be seen attending ceremonies at the church. He also spends time there volunteering with whatever they may need him to do.

Style. Luca’s style varies from his armor as a knight, which has some gold plating to it to signify his gilded status, to his everyday wear, which often consists of lighter earth tones and whatever cuts of clothing are most stylish. Sometimes, he will wear a vest of chainmail over his tunic, more for style reasons than practical ones. Accessories include a sword (in knightwear it is a longsword with a leather hilt and gold accents, and more casually he carries a shortsword with an intricate golden hilt), a small leather satchel, and a necklace containing a pendant of an eye.

Weapons. Luca has two primary swords (described above) which are his preferred weapons. However, he has also trained and is skilled with a bow and arrow and daggers, though these weapons are not always on his person. CHARACTER:

MBTI. ENFJ, The Protagonist

Enneagram. 2w3

Alignment. Lawful/Neutral Good (he’s on the cusp due to the fact that he does not show unwavering blind loyalty he is loyal instead to causes that are right and just — also literally lawful and neutral differed by one point when I took the test)

Temperament. Sanguine

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

The unfazed. Someone who isn’t charmed by Luca’s reputation. This person could have their reasons for not believing in the same things he does, or they could just be a contrarian who doesn’t see the big deal with him. It’s something that’s rare for Luca to encounter, and sometimes he doesn’t quite know what to do to get certain people on his side, but he will certainly try his hardest.

The grateful. Someone who Luca has helped in the past. This could go in many different directions depending on the character, who may feel indebted, or simply believe in the legend surrounding him even harder. A friendship could have even spawned out of this, and Luca will make it a point to check in on this person if they don’t already see each other often.

The argumentative. Someone who Luca doesn’t quite see eye to eye with. Different from the unfazed in the sense that they may share the same goals with Luca or agree with him on certain things, but the two just can’t seem to agree on how to approach a situation. Maybe one wishes to rush in while the other wants to take their time, or they just completely have opposite plans to solve a certain problem or prioritize involving different risks. There’s much banter that comes from this, and the political bickering may not end when the meeting is over.

The guilt-trip. Someone who Luca feels guilty looking upon. Perhaps this was someone he could not help for whatever reason, or someone (or the family of someone) he came to the aid of when it was too late. Losing anything, even if it’s just a small battle, takes its toll on Luca, who isn’t quite used to failure, and the sight of this person weighs heavy on his heart. Perhaps they resent him for this, or maybe they don’t, but Luca feels an obligation to make it up to them regardless. A fun little exploration in what failure looks like on Luca.

The sparring partner. Someone Luca turns to when Jasper denies his requests to spar (or anything, really). While not someone who turns to violence as a first resort, Luca knows he must keep his performance at a certain level as a knight, and so he practices with this person often. He finds them a pleasant and formidable challenge, regardless of the amount of formal training they have. I think the intricacies and what each person gets out of this really depends on the other character as well!

MORE RAMBLING:

I just wanted to ramble a little about the rest of Luca’s connections!! I already rambled about the Riche brothers who I love so much and I wanted to just go off on how much I love the other dynamics he’s involved in as well. I didn’t wanna make his app all about connections because it’s about him!!! So here’s where the rest of my love for those connections is gonna go:

Romilda. Romilda and Luca just. Ugh they make my heart sing!!! I think there is the potential for someone like Luca, someone so good, to feel lonely at the top when others are just simply not like him or don’t see the world the way he does. But Romilda has always kept him from feeling alone — she is his guiding light and his favorite star in the sky!! I think having someone like them who understands and who just. gets him so intensely is so good for him and helps him feel stronger. Romilda is truly one of the people he cares for the most and I really think he would do just about anything for them and finds himself easily justifying any cause they have. Romilda is truly the person Luca trusts the most and the person he would tell anything to. She would likely be the first person to hear about his dreams (though, I’ll admit he’ll probably try and tell Jasper, but I doubt Jasper will listen, so Romilda is the first person to truly hear about what’s going through his head). I think the age difference between them has also made Luca sometimes see himself as a protector over Romilda. Though he knows she does not need saving now, strong and brilliant in her burning light, he does still look out for her, in spite of any darkness she may not notice encroaching.

Caphriel. This connection just really pulls me in so well! She is his Lorelei, that beautiful mirage upon the rocks. Actually, Lorelei is pretty fitting, though I don’t pretend to control or speak for Caphriel — this beautiful maiden who lost her lover and threw herself to sea, now singing to draw this sailor in — only in this case the sailor is also her lover reincarnated. What they have is nothing short of beautiful. She is, among many things, a selfish desire of a selfless man, and it is in part that reason that Luca finds himself seeking clarity. He cannot know if this love is a blessing or a test from the Hundred Eyed God if he is so completely blinded by it, and as much as it pains him, as impossible as it seems (and it is, for truly Luca cannot resist the cries of anyone who utters his name), he must take that space, he must breathe in air that is not fully saturated with the sweet scent of Caphriel. He also worries he is not the only human she sets her sights upon, because while they both share a love of humanity, he can imagine how deep that love runs within her veins. He wants to know she feels for Luca in every part, not just his mortality. He does not know she has felt for him before.

Jasper. I already talked about the Riche brothers so this is just my little space to say I love Jasper so so much. I want to give him a kiss on the forehead and give him a book. It might be a therapy book but it’s a book and a gift nonetheless.

Samael. I touched on Samael’s role to Luca a little bit but there’s more to it than just the dreams Luca is cursed (or blessed, Luca is definitely not sure which at this time) with. Samael, like Caphriel, is a means to a selfish desire of a selfless man, and I love that there is an angel and a demon Luca has some sort of selfish means towards. Samael is, perhaps, the only one who holds answers, and despite the contempt Luca feels towards him, he doesn’t much desire playing trial and error with the other demons when he knows Samael may be all but dangling the key he seeks in front of his face. I also just love the idea of someone who gets under Luca’s skin when he’s a fairly positive person who values peace over his temper. He tells himself that it is worth it, that he will only receive his answers and then leave the demon alone forever, but even these encounters possibly leave open the tiniest cracks for corruption. After all, his longing for answers suggests a selfish desire, and how can that be ignored in the face of a demon? ANOTHER PARA SAMPLE:

Sun-kissed skin has been drained of its glow. Bright eyes had dimmed in the sadness. The only thing that remained of Luca at this funeral were the rosy shade that blanketed his cheeks, but even they were a false image. The youthful rush of blood to his cheeks was replaced by the heavy pulse of life beneath the skin as the boy cried all the day long. What light the sun could provide behind dark clouds only served to illuminate the tears that ran down his face. He’d long since stopped reaching to wipe them, and the hearts of strangers could not bear to look upon his sadness for too long.

On this day, the day of his father’s funeral, the light had been drained from Luca, a boy born swaddled in the sun, all because of a man he’d barely even known. His father, who had rarely come to visit, had encapsulated the boy’s heart in just those few times that ten-year-old Luca still felt the crushing weight of grief bearing down upon him. Stories of what they would do when he visited next would remain just that, stories. “Your father was a great man,” strangers would say to them as they brushed his limp curls out of his face. Luca nodded, for even if he hadn’t known the man long, he truly believed that. His mother loved him. He loved him. But when Luca felt his mother’s hand squeezing his shoulder, there was something else in her eyes, something else joining the sadness that had plagued her demeanor ever since she hoarsely broke the news to Luca.

“Your father had another son,” she said quietly, bile coating the words she could not even bring herself to sugarcoat, not even for her sweet child. Luca looked up at her quizzically, but she did not meet his gaze for once, her stare looking across the room as her grip tightened upon his shoulder. “He’s going to be living with us.” Luca had never seen his mother not as bright and abundant as the flowers that grew in the garden, and yet, everything in her withered when she spoke of this news. He imagined it was grief, and nothing more, that brought this out as his mother was swallowed up again by the mourning crowd, leaving him alone with just those words for comfort.

Another son. Luca had a brother. It was the type of shocking news that could make any grieving child break on a day like this. To know one’s father was not faithful to their mother. To know there was another receiving the affections meant for them. And yet, this news was what brought the sun out from behind the storm clouds that hid it away. Luca had a brother, another boy just like him, and he could not help but smile softly to himself. He would have someone to walk through this life with, to help him shoulder this grief and tell him stories of their father and be his friend and partner through whatever life decided to throw their way. If Luca was the sun, then his brother must have been a star just as bright. He couldn’t wait to meet him.

Making his way through the crowd, following the direction his mother had once stared so bitterly in, Luca finally believed he spotted him. The boy couldn’t have been much older than he, though the shadows of the tree he stood beneath hid the true answer from Luca. He stood alone, arms over his chest, sniffling as he quietly gazed in the direction of the pyre. Luca wandered over towards him, taking his hand in his own warm grip before the other boy had a chance to react. “It’s okay,” he said, his own voice wavering with the hoarseness that crying brings. “We are brothers in harmony. We’ll do this together.”

______

No brighter could Luca’s smile glow as than it did upon his arrival to the Holy Land. The land was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it would be, lush meadows tickling his grazing fingers in greeting with a river that seemed to babble hello. He could have stayed among this natural beauty for the rest of his days, but then he would have missed the marvels that beckoned to him in the distance. It was practically a utopia, the buildings rising to welcome him as if the city had outstretched arms to embrace him. And if the buildings could not hold him close and whisper welcome home, then the people would, for their heads turned and their eyes sparkled with an eager desire to welcome this man who seemed to bring the sun to their land.

Luca was not yet the gilded knight of bedtime stories and yearning aspirations, but he certainly held himself like one as he took his time walking through the Holy Land. He wanted to memorize the way each stone felt beneath his feet, the smell of every bakery he passed and the sight of all the different fading colors of brick on each building. He wanted this moment to last. He wanted to know his new home as well as his home already seemed to know him. But he could not stay within its tempting embrace for too long, for training began today, and he would arrive eager and ready and hopefully on time, if he had not spent too long lingering already.

His steps began to hasten, nearly getting caught up in a loose vine that had lingered in the street, intent on holding him here to enjoy the moment, but he continued on despite it. Luca’s limbs were eager to do what they seemed destined for, running and fighting and pushing himself further than he ever thought his humble life had destined for. But it was more than just what he would get to do when he arrived that drove him forward with a buoyant breeze in his step, it was who he would get to do all of it with.

Jasper stood just as Luca remembers when he first met him. His back rested against a tree though he stood up straight, his stern gaze straight ahead and his arms crossed about his chest. The younger Riche couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his older brother, even if he hadn’t yet noticed his presence in return. There was something about that expression on Jasper’s face that Luca loved about his brother, the constant contemplation so intriguing. Just once, he wished to know what was at work inside that brilliant mind, though he’d long since learned that simply asking would get him nowhere.

“Brother!” Luca called cheerfully, approaching Jasper. The other finally turned to face his brother, and though his expression certainly didn’t look amused (no, it rather resembled a cross between shock and annoyance and fury, in fact), Luca didn’t seem to mind.

“What are you doing here?” Jasper asked, having not been informed of Luca’s decision to come.

“We are brothers in harmony, are we not?” Luca responded, paying no mind to the rolling of Jasper’s eyes in response. It was all the answer he needed to give. He was here to train, just as Jasper was. “Come, let’s do this together.” His hand outstretched towards Jasper, waiting for the other man’s hand to fit into his.

Instead, Jasper simply walked into the crowd of other hopeful fighters. Luca’s hand dropped to his side, and with a shrug, he followed along, as he always would. CHARACTER INSPIRATION

Abel from biblical lore (duh)

Luke Skywalker from Star Wars

Princess Anna from Frozen

Prince Audric from the Empirium trilogy

Captain America from various Marvel iterations

#accepted #accepted: luca

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honeylikewords · 4 years

Note

b , d , t with Santi please

Yes! Absolutely!

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?):

I actually made a whole big, long, goofy post (with screencaps and citations!) about why I think the film actually frames Santi as a paternal figure who cares about children and longs to be a father himself, so, yes! I do fully believe that Santi does want to be a father and have kids!

I’m a little biased, but I do really think that part of Santi craves and is missing in his life is a sense of purpose and belonging in a group; he tries to fill the gap a family would hold in his life by reuniting his old teammates, only to realize that what he’s looking for can’t be supplied by these men and their jobs, the old life they used to live.

I imagine Santi is, whether secretly or not-so-subtly, rather jealous of Frankie for having a wife and kid. He has dark, unkind moments when he thinks to himself that, of the two of them, he, himself, deserves to be the one married, deserves to be holding his own little one in his arms, and doesn’t understand why Frankie gets to enjoy that where he doesn’t. Santi is quick to shake these thoughts off, though, fully aware that such a thing is ridiculous to think; the world is wide enough for both men to be married and become fathers in their own times, and that his loneliness need not manifest itself as bitter jealousy over his friend’s happiness.

Of course, that jealousy was at its worst when he was still single and living alone in Colombia, wracked with frustration over his job and the course of his life, the stress of feeling like he’d failed in all his endeavors and was growing too old to find a new meaning, a new course.

Once he moved back to the U.S., though, and fell in love with his current beloved, the anxiety over his potential for starting a family began to ebb. He’d found someone who truly loved him, who wanted him around, and who shared his hopes for the future: a love to last all their lives and a family of their own.

Still, I think Santi is sometimes plagued with worries about his past, and whether it will affect the prosperity of his future; what if there are stragglers of the Lorea empire hunting him down? What if his PTSD influences him so drastically that he’s a bad father? What if his shot knees mean he can’t bend down and pick up his child as they run to him?

He airs these anxieties to his lover over time, and each time, she takes him in her arms and reassures him that he will be a good, loving, gentle father. She’s seen him with other children. She’s seen him at his best. She’s seen him at his worst. And he remains steadfast, kind, and stable, even when rash fears and haywire anxieties grip him. She knows he’ll be the best father a child could ask for, and will always be improving upon himself, working to be even better.

Over time, and after many repeated conversations about it, and constant reassurance that it’ll be alright, Santi starts to believe that it’s possible; someday, he’ll be a father, and, if he’s lucky, it will be with the woman he’s lucky enough to currently call his girlfriend.

And while they may not be planning on having one any time soon, Santi still finds himself wandering through the baby clothes section when out at the local Target, and can’t help but imagine a tiny little person with his sweetheart’s eyes and his curls wearing the adorable little “crabby in the morning” t-shirt (with, of course, the printed illustration of a crab) he sees hanging on the rack.

He may just sneak it into the cart to buy and save for a hopeful later date.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?):

Santi is often very laid-back about dates, but in his own way; he likes to always be the one paying (it’s never worth it for his beloved to try and haggle with him to split the bill or let her pay; he is insistent that he cover it, always), and while he’s fine with the occasional visit to a dive bar to see live music or get some beers, he’s grown away from finding activities like that fun and has shifted into some pretty “tame” date ideas being the ones that excite him most.

He gets thrilled at the idea of going to the museum (if he’s told there’s a geology exhibit on, he’ll be there in a heartbeat) for an evening, or taking a visit to the theatre to see a show, though he’s not going to sit for a musical. He prefers standard plays, not musical theatre.

He likes going to the movies well enough, but he’s not really into action films or war movies, surprising as that may be; show him a good, like, period drama set in the 60′s to 80′s and he’s all over it. He loves business dramas and the occasional gangster movie, but he likes them to be more low-key and thrilling, with the tension building slowly and the threats being subdued, waiting for the moment to strike.

He’s also a sucker for comedies from the 80′s, and has a particular affinity for This Is Spinal Tap.

Oftentimes, he likes to stay home and cook dinner with or for his sweetheart, taking care to make a new dish that will excite, or one he knows is a special treat for her. He loves to make rich, chocolate and fruit-based desserts, too; one of his favorites is a dark chocolate mousse with pomegranate seeds sprinkled on top. He loves feeding it to her bite by bite and watching her smile at the flavors and at his sweet gesture, and when she’s full, he’ll lean in for a delicate, chocolate-tinged kiss.

Santi is also very, very fond of using his hands to touch and to hold her, so he’s not opposed to spending the evening in and giving her a massage as part of the date, or cuddling on the couch and working her shoulders while they catch up on shows he’s been unable to watch while at work. He likes The Office, but sometimes it’s just too easy to watch, you know?, so he’s gotten interested in more witty or fast-paced shows like The West Wing, Arrested Development, and, a surprise favorite from across the pond, Detectorists.

Nothing makes him happier than having his girl lay her head against his chest as they rest on the couch, comfortable in one another’s arms, and feeling her drift off to sleep on him. He loves knowing that she trusts him that much, and feels that safe with him. Plus, if she’s asleep, he can put on his secret indulgence show: America’s Next Top Model.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?):

Santi has tons of interesting stories about the work he did while on his tours around the world, but he actually gets more excited to talk about history; stuff he wasn’t present for but has read about, researched, taken a personal interest in. He loves tactical history and watches an embarrassing number of historical documentaries, so if he gets asked anything to do with that, he’ll be chattering for hours.

He also likes having conversations with his girlfriend about music, particularly band history or about how he doesn’t like a lot of modern music (and then she immediately pelts him with comments about him being a “crotchety old man” and shakes a fist, croaking in her best old man voice a surly “darn you kids and your hippity-hoppity musics!”, which Santi rolls his eyes at), but he also loves to hear her opinions about music. Especially if she has wildly different tastes from himself; he loves walking in and hearing her listening to one of those medieval covers of a popular song, or coming into the kitchen to find her working on something with a theremin album blaring in the background.

They also talk a lot about political issues; it just seems to come up often, and they’re both very passionate about trying to do what’s best for their communities and for their countries. They tend to have very similar stances about their beliefs, but can come to disagreements about how to put those selfsame beliefs into practice and policy. Thankfully, they’re both very willing to listen to one another, especially Santi, who genuinely takes pleasure in watching his beloved talk energetically about what she feels is just and right.

It’s also common for them to relay various stories from their day jobs, particularly if they or a coworker did something embarrassing. Santi got a job as a school counselor back in the U.S., so he loves to tell his beloved all about the teacher’s lounge drama.

“And so Gillian-- you know, the semester-long sub they got to fill in for Becky, who had to go on maternity leave?-- yeah, her, so SHE gets caught stealing bottles of glue from the supply closet and it’s not even for, like, huffing the fumes; she’s some kind of scrapbooking maniac, apparently? That’s not even the weirdest part--”

Honestly, though? They love to talk to each other about anything.

Santi considers his partner his best friend (followed closely by Frankie, but, ya know, the missus takes precedence) and he wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with her if he didn’t like talking to her, or didn’t find their conversations stimulating. She makes him laugh, challenges his thoughts, introduces him to things he’d never have found on his own, and just... is pleasant to be around.

And, sometimes, at the end of the day, that’s all you need: someone who is pleasant to be around, and it doesn’t have to matter what you’re talking about, so long as you’re together.

Santi knows he’s lucky enough to have just that in her.

Thanks for asking about Santi; I just adore him!

Send Prompts From This List!

#messages #anonymous #gif warning #santiago garcia

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kittenfemme27 · 4 years

Text

Bastion: What it means to truly move on.

“Someday, your bird is gonna fly.”

Bastion is the first game released by what is now the critically acclaimed Supergiant Games, makers of other games like Transistor, Pyre, and most recently Hades. But back in 2011 they were a nobody. 7 developers from various backgrounds within the industry came together to make games that could focus on storytelling first and foremost more than any of their previous studios would allow. Bastion was the result of that. Starting out from the idea of a top down isometric RPG, Supergiant realized that they wanted to portray a world that was fractured and broken, and wanted to show the vast and empty sky as a contrast to that destruction, but realized the camera angle wouldn’t allow this. So they came up with the idea that the ground would come up in front of the player as they walked forward, allowing the empty sky to show beneath them since the groundwork would not originally be laid until the player walked towards it. To explain this choice and why the world reacted this way, a destructive event known as “The Calamity” was created in the game's story. Thus, Bastion found its ethos.

Bastion’s a masterpiece. Plain and simple. It's been ported to nearly everything under the sun for a reason, being playable on literally 3 different console generations as well as every OS a PC can run, but coming back to play this game for the first time within the current political and geological climate that we find ourselves within as time goes on only makes it more and more apparent how much the story has to say. Even if you could somehow ignore it’s absolutely incredible music, insanely varied and addictive and yet delightfully simple gameplay, jaw dropping art direction and set pieces, Bastion’s storytelling is at its core and the story it has to tell is one that I think a lot of people didn’t fully appreciate back in 2011. From what I could find online, most people either ignored it in favor of the gameplay, or let the meaning of it glaze over them. And that's really, deeply a shame. Because Bastion is one of the best games I have ever played. And I’d like to talk about why.

Gameplay:

“Kid just rages for a while...”

I want to start first and foremost by talking about the gameplay and how you engage with the world. Combat in Bastion is simple and not exactly groundbreaking. An isometric hack ‘n’ slash with 2 weapon slots and a single ability, with a shield that has a parry mechanic and a dodge roll with fairly lenient invulnerability frames. Player movement is very, very slow which encourages you to very quickly become proficient in dodging and blocking. It’s fun, for sure, if just a little bit easy. But it’s nothing to write home about at first. As you play, though, you’ll begin to uncover Bastion's hidden depth and variety within its combat. A lot of that depth comes from the sheer number of Weapons, Upgrades, Passives, and Skills you can equip in any combination.

You are given 11 weapons, each of which can be upgraded with collectibles found within the levels for a total of 5 times per weapon, and these upgrades form a loose “trees” of upgrades that you can switch between at will. You can make the Spear better at critical hits and critical damage and faster thrusts, or make it better at throwing with more spears per throw, for example. Every single weapon has a 2 distinctive upgrade “Trees” in this way that clearly make it better at one specific aspect of the weapon, but you are free to mix and match these upgrades as you see fit. Maybe you want the Spear to have a high critical hit rate, but also throw 2 spears per throw, you can do that. It’s also worth mentioning that there are no restrictions placed upon you on what type of weapons you want to take. You can take two melee weapons, or two ranged weapons, whatever combination you desire is up to you. The narrator even has a line for literally every combination you can have that you’ll hear upon exiting the armory. Some compare you to legends of yore from the game worlds past, others point out just how plain silly it is for the Kid to carry both a mortar launcher and a rocket launcher.

Each weapon also comes with two skills that you can use during gameplay, ranging from protective skills like one that makes you block all attacks for a few seconds, to damage based skills such as the Bow’s skill that fires a ricocheting arrow between enemies. Even then, there are other Skills that are tied to no weapons at all which brings the total of skills in the game to 30.

In addition, there’s the Tonic system in which each level up confers a slot that you can equip a drink from the bar, for a total of 10 at max level. These function as passives applied to your character that allow even further customization. Some are basic things you’d expect, such as overall more health, or more restoration or ability potions, a flat 15% damage resistance, and so on. A number of these however offer a very very strong benefit in exchange for a side effect. Werewhiskey, for example, gives you a 100% crit rate but only below 35% health. Doomshine offers a permanent 10% crit but takes away 10% of your health permanently. Or Leechade, which allows you to gain health from striking enemies, but makes your health potions only 1/3rd as effective. These can all be stacked upon each other in any order or combination. You choose and be changed at any point between missions..

All of these systems together enhance the very simple hack ‘n’ slash combat to be something with infinitely more depth than presented to you at first glance, and something that you can experiment with as much as you want, since no choice is permanent. Part of the way it encourages you to experiment are the Weapon Challenge missions that crop up each time you obtain a new weapon. They ask you to complete some sort of challenge related to that weapon with no Skills, no other weapons, and in some of them not even the ability to dodge or block. Besting these will net you 1 of 3 prizes, depending on how well you did, With the first two prizes being upgrade materials and the last being a Skill for the weapon the challenge is based on.

Beating Bastion unlocks a “Score-Attack” version of New Game+ that keeps a running overall score during the whole game and during stage specific score for each mission, with a multiplier and a timer to keep that multiplier up. This effectively turns the game into a leaderboard chasing isometric arcade game. Every enemy adds 1 to the multiplier, and resets the timer, so it's up to you to run through each mission as fast as possible and challenge yourself to see what kind of score you can get, and since it lets you replay any mission you want, you can always find ways to get a higher and higher score. One of my playthroughs of this game was on the PS Vita and even since beating it, I've found myself trying to one-up my own score while i’m just sitting around since each mission only takes about 10-20 minutes. The most challenging content in the game is a set of 4 different repeatable combat arena’s with 20 waves of some of the toughest enemies in the game. You can make this even harder by invoking each God within the games Pantheon and raising the difficulty of every enemy you encounter. Doing this raises how many points you get per kill, and in these combat arena’s I’ve regularly topped a million points in just a single stage from precise gameplay.

I think that’s what I find amazing about Bastion’s combat is that despite 3 playthroughs, I never once found myself bored or annoyed by any of it. All 3 of my playthroughs had me switching up Weapons, Upgrades, Skills, and Tonics between every mission just to experiment and see what crazy builds I could make. Every challenge was always a delight and a real test of skill, every mission a romp where I got to find a new weapon and play with it each time. Often, I would die, but that was fine! Losing in Bastion is fun. It’s part of the experience, because you can always go back and change your build to whatever you desire to try again. In a way, it’s fitting for the entire theme of the game. It’s the End of the world, and there are no more rules. Do whatever you’ve gotta do. Might as well have fun with it, while you do.

Art & Sound:

“I suppose all that's left... is to try'n remember this moment.”

I think the other reason that I didn’t get bored on any of my 3 playthroughs of Bastion was the absolutely breathtaking art and music the game features. The soundtrack, composed by Darren Korb, clocks in only at an hour and while that does sometimes mean that there are repeats of songs, I'd be lying if I told you there was a single song on that score that I didn’t absolutely love. Or that I thought was out of place during any section of the game. Each and every song is its own radically different soundscape that, in songs like “Brynn the Breaker”, invokes a feeling of complete and utter destruction around you and a sense of leaning into that destruction. It’s fitting that the first time this song plays, you are almost assuredly going to hear the line “Kid just rages for awhile...” as you wreck each and every enemy and object around you after waking up on a floating rock in the sky. Meanwhile, in other songs such as “Build that Wall”, it's clear that Supergiant was acutely aware of the impact their music could have on a scene. In Caelondia, the games world, “Build that Wall” is a jingoistic anthem meant to inspire the Cael by noting the danger they face from the outside world and from the Ura, a people who live to the east, and implores them to build walls to keep everyone else but keep themselves safe. But the first time you hear that song, you’ll be rolling through the dilapidated ruins of Prosper Bluff, a place overrun by birds ready to rip you apart and barely hanging together by literal boards between each floating island, and not a wall in sight. Guided only by the simultaneously soothing and haunting voice of an Ura girl singing the theme of the people who hate her. In that moment, it sounds much more sorrow and sad than any anthem for a nation ever could.

Darren Korb has stated that the point of Bastions music was meant to invoke a sense of the “American Frontier”, of exploring new and uncharted land, but it’s interwoven with melodic and slow moments of tragedy and despair, featuring lots of slow acoustic guitar and lots of slow vocals when there are any at all. I really cannot praise enough this choice of frontier-ism interwoven into the music itself, as it sells the entire theme of the game perfectly.

The art of the game is just as fantastic, too. Supergiant set out to make sure you could see the sky in a top down game, which sounds a little absurd and like a nearly impossible feat, and yet they succeeded with such aplomb it almost seems like it was easy. Below each stage is a blurred barrage of trees, nature, clouds, sky, sometimes ruins within those things, it reminds you constantly that the world has ended and nature has reclaimed it. Progressing further and further down the set of missions and further away from the Bastion and Caelondia sees you going more and more into what's left of those wilds and away from the ruins of civilization, before reaching the icy peaks in the east of the Ura. It creates this feeling of loss and tragedy at what's lost, a sense of exploration into this new and unknown world, before finally getting to it's cold center as you get closer to the truth of the Calamity.

In general, the art style of Bastion feels like a living breathing oil painting. Features on people are exaggerated with small bodies, yet large heads and eyes and hands or feet. Making them feel like something out of a children's book. Every single thing in the game is full of color and life, down to the animals and the foliage, with the only notable exceptions being the ruins of buildings that are oppressive and gray, and the final cold reaches of the Ura’s leftover ruins. Because of the oil painting aesthetic, the narration, even the surreality of the world coming up before you, Bastion feels a lot more like playing a fairy tale than anything else I've ever played, even things that have tried to emulate that same effect. Bastion reminds us that the presentation of a game, in both its art and its music, tell just as much about the story and the world of a game as the actual story itself does.

Story: (Spoiler Warning)

“Now here’s a kid who’s whole world got twisted, leaving him stranded on a rock in the sky.”

Bastion is a game about a lot of things, but at its heart, it’s a game about Tragedy. A tragedy you can’t prevent no matter what you do, because it has already happened. Setpieces in the game constantly remind you of this, like going through the Hanging Gardens, a place where people used to gather and finding nothing but ashen corpses. Rucks, Bastion’s narrator, will even tell you the names of these people. I remember playing this game in 2011 and being upset at this. I wanted to know about Maude the Tutor, I wanted to hear the life of Percy the Snitch, but I couldn’t. That was the tragedy. It didn’t register with me at the time, but that was the point. I was supposed to be upset I couldn’t know these people, that they died in a tragedy I couldn’t prevent.

The core story of Bastion revolves around a war that took place some 50 odd years ago. Caelondia and her people, versus the Ura. In the modern day, before the calamity, the war was over. There was an Ura named Zulf who was trying to broker peace, even. But the Caelondian’s military-science division, the “Mancers” had a secret weapon. One they intended to use to get rid of the Ura for good. It would cause a genocide of the very land the Ura lived in and cause it to literally fall into nothing, ripping apart the physical earth where it stood before. Worse yet, this weapon was being created by an Ura inventor that lived within Caelondia named Venn under threat to his daughter, Zia. Venn couldn’t stand to aid the destruction of his people and sabotaged the weapon that ushers in the Calamity with vengeance in his heart, so that it would backfire and take Caelondia down with it. Imagine Venns shock, then, when the mancers asked him to pull the trigger.

Turns out an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Just like that, the Calamity has already happened. The Ura who were discriminated against in every part of Cael society and the racism and cycle of vengeance and violence within the Caels and the Ura reached a boiling point that caused the literal end of the world.. And that’s where you wake up. In a world already torn apart and crumbling before you. On a rock in the sky.

Tragedy permeates everything about the game. In the Hanging Gardens, you find Zulf as he’s about to kill himself after watching his Cael wife crumble to ash right before his eyes. When you meet the second survivor, an Ura singer who just so happens to be Zia, Venns daughter. She’s mournfully singing the tune of Caelondia that was the anthem used to inspire the Caels to oppress her own people, and her sweet voice sounds like the dying breath of an entire nation. Bastion makes it very clear that these people's lives as they knew them are over. But then Bastion asks you a simple question: You have to keep going, so what are you going to do with that world?

Before you get to make that choice, though, you’re asked to decide the fate of a man who hurts you. Zulf at one point reads the journal of Venn that he obtains from Zia and learns everything about the Calamity. He learns about the Mancers plan to genocide his people. He learns about Venns sabotage. Zulf spent his entire life advocating for peace between the two peoples, and this is what he’s met with. Unable to stand it, he attempts to destroy the Bastion and flees after injuring Rucks. As you chase him, he lures you far from the Bastion and sends the signal to an entire army of Ura survivors to attack the Bastion, even persuading Zia to come with him to try and convince her to abandon the Bastion. In the end, though. You chase him all the way to the heart of the Ura nation and as retaliation for bringing someone so powerful who kills so many Ura, the Ura forces attack Zulf and leave him for dead. You come across his body and are given a choice to either leave him and carry on, or take him with you and abandon your weapon. You’re asked right then and there, can you forgive someone who hurt you and your chance at fixing the world and break the cycle of violence? Or will you press on, like Venn, with vengeance in heart. If you choose to save Zulf, you walk forward with zulf on your shoulder through multiple Ura archers shooting you nearly to death. It’s only once they realize that you’re trying to save Zulf do they stop trying to attack you. This moment of compassion, this breaking of the cycle, inspires the Ura to let you pass. If you choose not to save him, you must battle an entire army, which isn’t even hard for you at that point. It’s a bloodbath. You, a Cael kid from nowhere, end the last of the Ura outside of Zia who knows so little of her culture that she can’t even read the journal her father left over. You succeed where the Mancers failed. The cycle of violence remains unbroken within you and within your heart.

You’re given two options upon returning to the Bastion at the end. You can use the power of the Bastion to reset the world to where it was before the Calamity. You’ll lose all your memories, but everyone and everything that died will be okay and alive again. There’s a risk, though. Rucks has no way of knowing if this plan will work. If it will prevent the Calamity in the end. “Problem with a machine that sets things back to a bygone time,” he says, “Is that you can’t test it.”

Your other option is Zia’s choice, though both her and Rucks support whatever decision you make, they know it’s not an easy choice. Her plan is to turn the Bastion into a floating island ship that can travel anywhere. To forge a new world and look for survivors on other floating islands and carry on in this destroyed world and find hope within that tragedy. Make something new, and beautiful, from the ashes of something dead. Maybe that’s not possible, she thinks, but it’s better than recreating a world with institutional violence, with cycles of hate and vengeance, a world where something like the Calamity could happen in the first place.

Supergiant knew what most people would pick, though. Resetting seems like the only real choice, at first. Maybe the Calamity will happen again, maybe it won’t, but you can’t just let all those people die. The whole game has been building up to fixing the Calamity. Rucks, old and clinging to the past, is sure that resetting it will work and that things will be okay again. He’s a bit like a father figure to you, too. He’s narrated every action you took, made sure you were never truly alone in this ruinous world. So of course you trust him. An overwhelming amount of people chose to reset the world the first time they play. I did, too. I knew that maybe the Calamity would happen again, but I couldn’t just let everyone die. Maybe things would be different, I thought. Maybe this time people won’t let something like a genocide happen again. Maybe Venn won’t pull the trigger. I didn’t know, but it was better than letting everyone die, right? It had to be. I had to hope that I made the right decision. So with trepidation in my heart. I chose to reset everything.

Rucks comforts you when you choose to reset that “No matter what happens next... you done good.” Credits roll. You see pictures of the lives of each character in the reset Caelondia. The lonesome Kid continues his work as a mason on the wall built to keep the Ura out, where he isolated himself after losing everyone in his life. The only person to ever sign up for 2 tours on the Wall. Rucks continues his work on the Bastion, refining it for the future, meaning that there’s still a need for a safeguard like it in the first place. Zia plays a concert on her harp with a mournful look on her face, she found comfort in music but that comfort was equally as isolating and lonely, what with her being an Ura girl in Caelondia. Zulf gets married to his fiancee, blissfully unaware of the impending genocide on his people while he fruitlessly brokers peace. Upon seeing these credits, these images of the lives of these characters, I knew I made a mistake. History is going to repeat itself. Sure they were alive, and so was everyone else, but the cycle of violence remains unbroken and eventually, even if the Calamity that befell the world the first time doesn’t happen again, another will. Rucks final words in this ending are a simple forlorn goodbye. “So long kid... Maybe I'll see you in the next one. Caelondia... We’re coming home.”

Choosing this ending left me feeling anxious at first, and then hollow and empty. I didn’t save anyone, I just clung to the past. I expected things to be different in a world where something like the Calamity could happen in the first place. I knew, then, that for there to be any hope at all I had to move on from the old world. I had to do right by Rucks, by Zia, even by Zulf. They were my friends. They deserved better, they deserved more. They deserved a world without the conflict and violence that Caelondia brings. I understood even more clearly what I had done when, upon starting a new game, Rucks final words echoed over the loading screen. As far as I could tell, the Calamity had happened again. Rucks even makes comments of feeling a sort of deja-vu while retelling the story and is much less confident resetting will work the second go around, for a reason he just can’t quite explain.

Bastion is a story about tragedy, about generational trauma left over from a war, about the cycle of violence and all that it perpetuates. It’s a story about waking up in a world that has already crumbled and fallen apart through no fault of your own and being told there is nothing you can do about that destruction. And there isn’t. Climate change is a bigger problem now in 2020 than it ever was in 2011. People are going to die, it’s just an awful fact at this point. Those in charge continue to ignore that fact and these issues while also continuing to stoke the fires and flames of the impoverished and destitute more and more every day, bleeding them dry for any pennies they might have.

But that’s not all Bastion has to say. It’s not fair for the next generation just like it wasn’t fair for the Kid, to wake up in a world already destroyed, and yet still, people like the Kid and Zia found hope. Within Bastion, you can save Zulf and end the cycle of violence, you can choose Zia’s option and set out on a world that is better for everyone in the end, as ruined as it is. Even in the end of the world and everything you knew, there is hope. Bastion doesn’t just ask, it begs on hands and knees for the next generation to take up this dying world and make it better. Bastion, and Supergiant, believes in the next generation. that it's possible to move on from the past and make something better, to seize control and make a better world while purposefully never forgetting the cycles of violence that led us to the end of the world in the first place. Our great Calamity is already unfolding before us and there isn’t anything we can do to stop it, only delay it. Bastion tells us that it's okay, that we can make something beautiful, and new, and better from those ashes.

In the scene for the Evacuation ending, Rucks tells us that he’s not sure how to live in a world like this, but he’s willing to learn. And excitedly offers to help teach you how to fly the Bastion through the skies. The very first image you see during the credits then, is the Kid finally collapsing of exhaustion and resting while Rucks tucks him in. The next is Zia looking forward on the deck of the Bastion, a smile on her face and hope in her heart. You get to see Rucks later teaching the Kid how to fly the Bastion, finally giving the Kid the family that he so desperately needed, and finally you see Zulf. He’s got a frown on his face, he’s still lost everything in the Calamity after all. More than anyone. But he’s chopping food for everyone else still, helping out where he can. I couldn’t help but think upon seeing his expression that he might hate me for the rest of my life, and that was alright. I’d always just be happy he was alive. Seeing the smiling faces of everyone in the Evacuation made something very clear to me. In the Old World, Zia was an outcast, Zulf was a fool, Rucks was nostalgic, and the Kid was alone. In the Calamity, they found friendship, they found happiness, they found love and family in each other, they found adventure and they found hope for the future. Zia’s final words to the Kid echoed in my head:

"Any moment I'd want to live again... happened after the Calamity. Not before."

And I was at peace. I knew I had done the right thing I had chosen to move on, accepting the world for what it was and not looking for miracle solutions to fix it or change it, but to forge on ahead with what I had and make something better.

Bastion’s story is not directly told to you, especially after the ending. There is no epilogue that tells you exactly what happened, just a few lines of dialogue that you can make of what you will and some pictures of the lives after your choice. it’s never explicitly stated that the Calamity happens again if you choose to reset things. It’s meaning is in between the lines that Rucks has to say. It’s In the subtext. It's in the art, it's in the environment, like the tragedy of finding nothing but ashen corpses around a lone peace talker right before he’s about to jump to his death. It’s in the music, like the haunting melody of an outcast’s voice singing the song of her oppressors while never realizing how much the very city she was raised in tried to exterminate her. But more than anything it's in the feeling you get while you play. Bastion’s story plays out in your heart as much as it plays out in your mind and on the screen in-front of you. What you feel, what you make of it, that’s just as important to the meaning of the story as what you’re hearing and seeing. Obviously this can be said of all stories, but Bastion is maybe the one that’s resonated most in my heart and in my soul more so than any other story. It offers no simple answers, no painless choices, and no easy ways out. Move on, or cling to the past, those are your only two options and Bastion forces you to make a choice.

In the end, I chose a new world. A better world. A world with my friends that would never let the cycles of violence and the generational trauma that caused the Calamity to happen again. Sure, resetting technically brings everyone back to life, but it wasn’t until I chose to move on and move forward that I felt I could even say in my heart that I’d saved anyone at all.

Conclusion:

“I dig my hole, you build a wall.”

“Build that wall, and build it strong, Cause we’ll be there before too long.”

Bastion is, and I'm not saying this lightly, a perfect game. The gameplay loop and combat is phenomenal and addicting, the music and art and aesthetics are so top notch you could honestly create an entire art style out of them all on their own, the storytelling is amazing and has so much to say that I cannot believe something this important was just thrown out by an indie studio nobody had ever heard of while it was only 7 people strong, and how many people slept on it or completely missed the point of the tragedy of Caelondia and the Ura.

This game will live in my heart for a very, very long time and its music and messages it conveyed will stick with me even longer. My only regret with Bastion is that I’ll never get to experience it for the first time again. But, even with the spoilers here, you can. Play it, Kid. You won’t regret it.

“We can't go back no more. But I suppose we could go... wherever we please.”

#Bastion #Review #Played on: PC #Played on: PS Vita

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lily-of-the-eyrie · 4 years

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🎓🔍 Scene Commentary: Colonel Edition ①

Welcome to the first in a series of posts about taking a closer look at the Colonel’s scenes, in which I’ll be analyzing all the sections in which he appeared to:

get a clearer idea of his character, and

maybe squeeze just a liiittle more content for HCs etc.

For this post, I’ll be doing Sequence 3-1 “The Color of Right”. As you can expect from the Colonel’s first appearance, this scene’s straight up packed with key details about his character—I’m talking mannerisms, value systems, ideals, and more.

Highlights! 　❗️The Colonel’s Negotiation Skills 　❗️The Colonel & Templar Beliefs

I’m essentially writing out my thoughts on what’s happening on screen as they go, so I highly recommend keeping a Rogue playthrough open in another tab for maximum clarity.

🌟 Thanks to the-colonel-who-cares for assisting with the beta reading!

This post has a lot of text and a lot of screenshots, so the rest of it goes under the cut.

[SQ3-1] The Color of Right

— Part I: First Meeting — Shay took down the gang members in the Greenwich HQ, and met the Colonel for the first time.

　The scene opens with Prosperity and Decay, an ominous and rather foreboding track which does a great job at underlining this scene's uneasy calm and tense undercurrent. Although Shay's opinion of the Colonel, whom he just met, did get better towards the end of the segment, at the beginning he's still very much unsure of what to make of the man.

　We start with Shay feeling alert and suspicious: upon noticing the Colonel, he narrows his eyes at him and his hand goes straight to his pistol. It's pretty clear at this point that he's not going to be instantly cooperative.

　Now the first thing the Colonel does to deal with this is raise his hands, which, together with his telling Shay to be at ease, and that they're friends (promptly name-dropping the Finnegans to make sure that his point gets through quickly), says something very, very clearly―"I'm NOT your enemy". Then, and only then, does he introduce himself.

　The Colonel follows up by thanking Shay for taking down the criminals, but Shay's first and almost reflexive response to this show of gratitude is, surprisingly, contempt. He combatively, condescendingly questions the sincerity of the Colonel's concern. Watch his tone and body language as he spits on the very idea that the Colonel could even actually feel anything about the city and its people. The way he blinks and throws out his arms questioningly before saying "What do you care?", and the contemptuous tone with which he says that line, is absolutely dripping with poison.

　And in this moment, we catch a glimpse of Shay’s infamous troublemaker side. Here he is, raring to go—a commoner challenging not just any redcoat, but a goddamn British military officer right in his face. This is the Shay that gets into bar brawls, the one who can't stay out of fights for long; this is the Shay who has zero innate respect for authority, and this is the Shay who can and will fearlessly call bullshit on anybody, even his "social betters", if he thinks they deserve it.

　Now to be fair to Shay, he’s not just looking for trouble out of boredom. We know there’s no love lost between him and the redcoats, judging by how he treats them from the very first scene. They were his enemies, plain and simple.

　However, in the wider scope of things, his behaviour isn’t anything particularly unusual—historically speaking, during the period Rogue is set in, there's a lot of tension going on between the Irish and the British, since the latter is pretty much on an all-out bender to subjugate the former. Needless to say, this creates a lot of bad blood between the two sides, so Shay’s reaction, while quite aggressive, isn’t really out of place considering the social mood of the time.

　But one thing is clear―Shay is straight up looking for a fight, and he was no pushover; he's totally ready to back up his fighting words with an actual fight. He would have no qualms (and might even rather enjoy) socking a redcoat in the face...or worse. Their shared acquaintance of the Finnegans is probably the only thing that reined him in for now, and had that the risk of causing his caretakers further trouble not been on his mind (he certainly seemed to have momentarily forgotten it when he taunted the Colonel). Hell, he might've even thought of roughing him up. I mean, he's a trained Assassin―he's got good reason to believe that he could 100% beat the stuffing out of this guy AND escape afterwards.

　Now watch the Colonel totally avoid falling in line with Shay's predictions by simply not fighting back. Normally, you'd expect any other redcoat, common soldier or otherwise, to whack Shay right across the face to teach the rude, uppity brat a lesson. And he’d have a pretty strong case in his defense too, since it was undeniably Shay who "started it".

　But here's the point: the Colonel isn't just any other redcoat. Not only did he accept Shay's pointed accusation (which would've been doubly hurtful if he did truly care about the townspeople), he did so with grace; you don't see him squirm, you don't see him trying to deny or make excuses for his colleagues' behaviour. Neither did he get defensive and try to justify their wrongs. "Not getting reactive" seems like a simple action, but it suggests the presence of a significant amount of self-control―and, in extension, control over the situation. He didn't get angry, or violent, or emotional, which would surely have led to a confrontation where everything spins out of control and would surely end with one of them bleeding out on the ground; instead, he was able to keep Shay talking, and also gain a foothold in the argument by introducing the idea, the possibility, to Shay that whatever "the redcoats" had done, this redcoat in front of him intends to do differently.

　Of course, Shay's not stupid or gullible, so he doesn't immediately trust this weird fellow who had not only completely circumvented his open invitation to a fisticuff, but also actually continued to try converse with him to boot. As far as he's concerned, the logic of "redcoats=bad people=enemies", an observation doubtless fed by years of experience that agreed with that statement, still held strong. Even so, the Colonel managed to get Shay, who is suspicious as heck and obviously not a big fan of anyone with his profession, to at least let him try to prove himself different.

　Okay, now let's take a look at the Colonel's side of the conversation, which plays like a masterclass in conflict resolution. After explaining who he was to take the edge off Shay's defensive stance, and taking the brunt of Shay's scorn head on afterwards, we see him accepting the fact that yes, a lot of his comrades have indeed "been less than helpful", and it can't be helped that Shay feels animosity towards him.

　Now look at his body language here―he averts his eyes when speaking of his less compassionate colleagues, and his talking speed noticeably drops, like he's looking for the right words to say. Shit, I'd even go as far as saying he looks visibly sad about this―watch his eyes, the crease in his eyebrows. But far from being a sign of refusing to look at the unfortunate truth, this comes across as a very empathetic gesture―it's less "yeah, I guess so...I guess //shrug" and more of a "yeah, I know―what a shame, isn't it?" The slight, almost imperceptible nod at the end of it just seals the deal―this is the Colonel telling Shay that he isn't about to run away from the charges Shay had brought up against him.

　But he wasn't just going to take it all sitting down, and not do anything about this injustice whose existence he just told Shay he's well aware of―he will, he tells Shay, take a different approach. If his comrades are going to abuse their authority and mistreat the common people, he claims, then he won't do the same thing. Now clearly this isn't something Shay hears very often, much less think possible, so naturally he's rather suspicious of the Colonel's intentions. His first instinct would've been that if this guy isn't in it as a "landlord", oppressing the townsfolk for his own gains, then well, he's probably after something else just as selfish. So this is where the Colonel's words again pulled the rug right out from under his feet, because, going entirely in the opposite direction, the object of his suspicion instead said the most selfless thing―that he cared for the welfare of the citizens.

　Okay, here comes the most important line in the Colonel's primary characterization. Questioned on his motivations by Shay, who doubtless wondered why the Colonel would take the trouble of going against the party line (a thing that Shay, who freshly broke away from his Brotherhood doing just that, may even have a personal interest in knowing), he answered:

"I care."

　First, let's talk about the delivery of this line (or, well, phrase) itself. It's short, it's sweet, it gets straight to the point―in two words, the Colonel posits that he does what he does out of a highly personal sense of duty to look after the people, plain and simple. It's only after a pause to let this sink in that he elaborates on the statement by saying he wants safety and prosperity for New York's citizens, but even then it's all very bare-bones, and its straightforwardness is supported by his tone, which sounds like the very embodiment of someone saying something just like that―no stumbling, no doubt, no hesitation. With no flourish to it, it doesn't look like he's trying to make a show of flexing his moral muscles here, either. He answered Shay's grilling with an answer that rings like a simple truth, and that gives the line the impact it needed to make an impression on the still suspicious Shay.

　Now let's look at the gestures: speaking of his wishes for New York's welfare, he throws his gaze down the street and lightly spreads his arms, motioning to the city as a whole. That, and his following expression, gives him a very vulnerable air. He'd stated his thoughts on the issue, and laid them out for Shay to judge. These are the actions of a man who has nothing to hide, and the effect is instantaneous―Shay still hasn't been completely won over, but there's a considerable drop in the combativeness of his behaviour from that point onwards, and he's now more open to the idea of keeping up a conversation with the Colonel.

　With Shay still skeptical but more importantly somewhat calmed down, the Colonel now has a fighting chance in trying to get Shay to at least allow him the opportunity of proving his sincerity.

❗️The Colonel’s Negotiation Skills

　 The Colonel’s methods here reminded me of crisis/hostage negotiation techniques, which generally places a huge emphasis on staying calm, building rapport with an uncooperative/emotionally wrought individual, and working on convincing the other guy that they can trust you enough to help them resolve the situation in a less destructive way. Of course, their first encounter is more of a standard argument between two parties who are supposed to have a lot of mutual antagonism than a hostage situation, but I did find it interesting that one key phrase that comes up a lot in the context of such negotiations is that the ideal resolution to the conflict is gaining what they call “voluntary compliance”—that is, getting someone to do what you want them to do without forcing them into it—from the target. I’m sure the Colonel most likely didn’t have any formal training in that craft, but the idea that you can actually codify what you need to do to win someone’s trust does add a more sinister sheen to his intentions.

　On my end, I think the Colonel’s being honest with a lot of things here, and professional negotiators do tend to stress that their techniques need some actual sympathy from their end in order to work at all, but for people who want to write an unapologetically manipulative Colonel, I think it’s a interesting topic to look into.

― Part II: Freedom From Want ―

　The Colonel attempts to prove his "noble words" immediately by putting them into practice, and instructs Shay to use the gang's stolen funds to renovate an old church in the city.

　The Colonel says what's on Shay's mind, impressing upon the still wary man that he understands what going through his mind―that Shay has no reason to trust him yet. Shay's reply this time is decidedly tame; he's no longer spitting bile by default. Instead, he now asks for more elaboration on the common ground the Colonel introduced earlier: their shared friendship with the Finnegans, whom we know Shay thinks of dearly.

　The Colonel states that his relationship with the Finnegans is tied to the fact that their late son was a subordinate of his. He further extends the common ground by saying that Shay's "much like him", drawing a straight parallel between the two men. Now, you don't make a comment like that unless you expect the other guy to ask why you said that, which is exactly what Shay does next. This can be a normal conversation...or it could be the Colonel deliberately reeling Shay further into that common ground to build a connection. Is this just friendly talk that naturally evolved from Shay's question about the Finnegans? Or is it a calculated move by the Colonel to draw Shay into trusting him more? Or is the Colonel honestly reminiscing about the past, slightly shaken after being caught totally unaware by the fact that the Finnegans had decided to give Shay his late protégé's robes? You decide ;^)

　The Colonel then elaborates on the late Finnegan Jr, painting the picture of a saint―a young man who had cared about the townsfolk, who had wanted to "do good by the people", and wanted to make the world a better place. Now all these are good things, and only it would take quite a disagreeable personality to shit on that at this point. But this isn't just about Finnegan Jr.; by stating outright that all this was a dream both Finnegan Jr. and himself shared, intentionally or not, he's essentially also painting himself in the same light. He might’ve planned that, or he might not, but Shay would likely feel that the Colonel’s a more agreeable person given that he shows great appreciation for the charitable spirit of people like Finnegan Jr.

　Next, here comes the Freedom of Want line. It's really important, so I'll tack the whole thing here:

"Mere survival is not enough. Full bellies, warm clothing... Freedom from want is the greatest freedom of all."

　There are two things I want to talk about when it comes to this line. The first is the nature of benevolence in these lines, and the target of that benevolence. Now, the Colonel made it absolutely clear from the get-go that he isn't concerned only for the wellbeing of what we might call the “important people” (a.k.a. the higher social class, the “somebodies” of society), but all the citizens of the city―this includes the absolute poorest members of the society, who would most likely long for this "freedom from want". Speaking of that freedom from want, how did he define it? He outlines it as having "full bellies, warm clothing"―he's talking about the right to a comfortable life, to the basics of not just barely surviving, but of a life worth living on a physical, biological level. Now this is important because, aside from having a very humanitarian angle to it, it will strike Shay in a raw spot―Shay, who spent his childhood in a harsh environment, who's got a lot of brushes with poverty, reeling from one tavern to the next, feeling like he was never taken care of by anyone. And it's a strong callback to Shay's first accusation to the Colonel―that he was no different from a landlord wringing his poor tenants dry while said tenants are breaking their backs trying to earn just enough to not die of hunger in the streets.

　The second thing is, of course, the obvious jab at the Assassins―I don't think anyone would deny that the Colonel is a Templar through and through, and, looking for all the world like he'd known and fought Assassins for a long time, he likely already knows their arguments about the concept of freedom by heart. Given that he's likely very much aware of the importance of the word "freedom" to the Assassins, and also that he knows that Shay's one of them, it's highly possible that the Colonel picked his words very deliberately for this line. But I would argue that it's not malicious; I don't think he's sassing the Assassins' ideals here, because he never seems to be the kind of man who indulges in petty sarcasm like that (although whatever he thinks the Assassin brand of freedom is, he very likely disagrees with it, or at least figured the Templar take on it is preferable). What I'd say he's trying to do here is introducing a different sort of freedom―one that he hopes Shay could get behind.

[PS. On a side note, “freedom from want” is recognizably one of the Four Freedoms, which can be rephrased as a “right to an adequate standard of living”. I wonder if it’s a reference... In any case, I just want to say that trying to figure out why this seems to be a topic of personal importance to the Colonel is a great way to start working on his backstory.]

　Shay's sarcastic side then comes out again as he prods the Colonel about his goodwill. On one hand, it's just Shay being Shay―giving people playful grief is just a part of his personality. Under the surface though, we see him buying more and more into the idea presented by the Colonel: when they first talked, Shay ridiculed that very same goodwill, acting as if it's only common sense that it doesn't really exist, but at this point he's like, hey, idk, maybe it could be real this time? You can see him get more comfortable around the Colonel; whatever techniques the Colonel's employing to get on Shay’s good side, it's clearly working.

　Now let's see how the Colonel takes issue with Shay's idea that the relationship between the Colonel and the citizens is that of the governor and the governed. One interesting point here is that Shay is still talking to the Colonel like he's "the British Government", not an individual in his own right. Shay is still subconsciously conflating the Colonel's actions with his party's actions, and this is where it gets very interesting―the Colonel staunchly, flatly, even snappily, denies that claim.

　The Colonel is, generally, a very calm speaker―his tone is very stable, and he talks in a very measured manner. This makes any sudden rise in his voice very noticeable. Listen to the way he says that line:

　"I do not govern, Master Cormac. I merely assist."

　He's clearly put off by Shay's words; compared to his previous line, there's an obvious change in volume and force in his denial, and his voice only returns to normal at the back half of that line. Now I don't know about you, but the speed at which he shot back makes that part sound...unscripted. That's either top-grade acting, or the Colonel’s instinctive response to Shay stepping on his tail.

　As for why this caught my eye, I think it's interesting on two levels―on a personal level as a hint to what the Colonel thinks of his own role in society, and on a grander level as a reference to the position of the Templar Order in the world as an organization.

　Starting with the first one, if the Colonel did in fact shoot this line back reflexively, that's a huge hint to his personality. It's interesting because it's a rejection―he claims to not be a "governor", someone who rules over others and calls the shots only expecting his subjects to obey, but an "assistant", who is here to help others along. By the way he said this line, he might have even viewed this distinction with pride.

　On the greater scale, this line can also take on a shady note to it because "assisting, not governing" is very much in line with the Templar Order's overarching strategy ever since the time of the Borgias (AC:Revelations’s Abstergo Files are a good read for more on this).

　As such, there's a lot of complexity in how we can interpret this bit. Is the Colonel just calling back to his party stance? Or is he, through the actions he carries out, trying to write his own version of how to execute this Templar strategy, in direct opposition to how most of his other comrades (read: ye standard-issue villainous Templar) interpret it? Does he take this line to mean really "helping people out and guiding them to greatness", not just "manipulating them like pawns as part of your personal agenda"? The striking difference here, and whether one believes the gap exists or not, is pretty much what sets him apart from the generic Templar.

　Next, they arrive at the dilapidated church. Watch his phrasing here:

　”We can make it better."

　See how quickly he reels Shay in as part of the team, not an outsider. It might feel a bit sudden given they literally just met, but it’s definitely a good line for building camaraderie—it’s the Colonel quietly stressing that they’re on the same side now.

　He also mentions that urban renewal is “a new science that had already proven effective on the Continent". In addition to showing that he takes the Templars’ focus on being people of science and technological advancement seriously, this bit also gives us a look at his other interests outside his immediate occupation. And from the look of it, it's not the first time he's renovated a building; arranging for resources means that he had to organize the logistics at some prior point, and these materials needed to be sourced, paid for, transported―if you want to get really grounded, this isn't something that easily just happens without a lot of paperwork. Had he built an existing logistics network for this?

　Having fixed the church, he suddenly brings up the topic of watching over New York. Judging by Shay’s outburst of anger towards the “landlords” mismanaging the area earlier in the scene, the Colonel can probably make a educated guess that this responsibility’s something that will resonate with the man at this point.

　He ends their meeting by saying, “after all, a man needs purpose". Now, everybody knows "purpose" is an extremely important keyword in Templar ideology, so I doubt he used this word on a whim here. He's obviously trying to give Shay a sense of direction―a direction that, unsurprisingly, lines up with the Colonel's interpretation of Templar ideology.

❗️The Colonel & Templar Beliefs

　Despite its shortness, this scene does a great job at encapsulating a lot of things about the Colonel’s personality, and his particular idea of what his Order’s beliefs stand for, ie.-”doing good by the people”.

　As in any other belief system, the “true meaning” of the Order’s philosophy is likely something hotly debated among the Templars themselves, much like how various Assassins have incongruous ideas of how their Creed should be put into action (Mackandal v. Ah Tabai, Bellec v. Arno, etc. etc.). Given that the Templars are supposed to play the antagonist in the Ass Creed series, their ideology’s unethical applications inevitably tend to take center stage whenever they get mentioned, but the presence of Templars like the Colonel who register as “good” does bring up the fascinating topic of what Templar ideology looks like when exercised in a righteous way. That said, the Colonel seems to have a strong attachment to the concept of being a charitable Templar, which begs a lot of questions—how does he feel about his less-than-helpful comrades in the Order? The British Rite under Birch, or even the Templar Order in general, likely has a great proportion of dodgy figures in it—how does he deal with having to work with them? Assuming he’s not the only member of the Order who believes that a Templar has the responsibility of executing their ideology in a morally upright way, could there be factions within the Rite that are at odds with each other’s take on their shared belief system? All this would make the British Rite’s internal politics incredibly interesting to think about.

🤔 Extra: Chapter Questions

Okay, now that we’ve reached the end of the sequence, there are several unanswered questions that presumably had crossed the viewer’s mind at some point:

Q1. Why did the Colonel even let Shay live? What’s his game plan? Q2. How much did the Colonel know about Shay's personality/background? Q3. How much of this encounter is staged?

Since these questions need the whole of his cutscene discography to answer properly, I’ll do them in a later post, but they are intriguing Qs to keep in mind as we go! :^D

#⟪Monrology 🎓⟫#⟪Headcanon Hour 💭⟫#⟪✠ Honour and Loyalty ✠⟫#⟪Cutscene Commentary series⟫#I feel that there aren't enough long-ass reads on Monrology and I plan to help rectify this #I've been planning to do this for a very long time but hhhhh what is editing #but yes I want to hear YOUR thoughts on these scenes too #and if you feel like taking a shot at the Chapter Questions right away well #I'm listening 👀👂#Rogue may be short but nhh there are so many scenes that lend well to in-depth analyses and we might as well capitalize on that

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pelloello · 4 years

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SCRAPPED STORY CHALLENGE by @bugsims

CHALLENGE RULE post a few screenshots from a scrapped scene / edit / story share why you scrapped this specific thing. tag five friends, and watch the fun play out!

I wasn't tagged by anyone but it sounds fun and I wanted to do it anyway! Like most of the stories I've come up with, it was sparked in ts3 and then when RoM came out I thought about rebooting it. It's not 'scrapped' so much as I just never got around to it. It’s a bit of a long read, so I’ve put the bulk of it under the cut for anyone who’s interested! :)

It's a fantasy story that was kind of a love story, but not really lol. Around the 16th century, Tallis was a man engaged to a woman from a wealthy, upper class family. It was arranged to raise the status of his own family name in the community. Unfortunately, before the wedding he was cursed by a witch to live forever. Along with the curse, his eyes turned red as a warning to everyone that he was involved with witchcraft. Wanting to spare his family shame, he disappeared and let the community assume he was murdered. As he was the only son, his family name ended with him and his family home fell into disrepair. He made it his personal goal to re-establish his family name some day, and repair his estate to its former glory and beyond! But he also discovered a love for shiny gems and became distracted with finding and hording all that glitters in the attic of his dilapidated family home, and so his goals fell on the back-burner. But it’s not he had to rush, after all. He traveled often to not be recognized and stayed away from others to avoid becoming too attached.

Some 200 years or so later . . .

Adria has just found herself engaged to a man she's never met who's twice her age. Despite being very sheltered, she still believed a woman should be treated as a person and not sold off to a middle aged man so her father can prosper. Her father told her to stop with her radical ideas before someone accused her of being a witch, and to accept that she was to be a good, behaved wife whether she liked it or not. Later that evening, Adria sneaked out of the house and into the forest to clear her mind, when she came upon Tallis, who was dressed in a full suit and digging around in a stream looking for a gem he dropped. He hadn't spoken to anyone in decades, so he began chatting with a curious Adria. He missed human contact and enjoyed their conversation, and decided having another chat before he left wouldn't be too bad. Adria loved that she was talking to a man who was treating her as an equal. The next night she met with him again, and the night after that, and the night after. After a handful of visits, she decided they must be in love, otherwise why would he treat her with such respect? She made her mind up that on her next visit, she was going to ask him to ask her to marry him. It would be wonderful! Tallis on the other hand, began to stress about getting too attached to Adria and then losing her to her mortality. He didn't want to put himself through the torture of caring for someone only to live without them, so he decided the next visit would be their last. Tallis explained why he had to leave, and Adria didn't take the news well. They were obviously in love, weren't they? They should be together! After that night, Tallis never returned. Adria was heartbroken at first, but realized that if her mortality was what's keeping them apart, she would just become immortal too! So she stole all the forbidden books from the church's archived and began researching the dark arts. Her father and brother caught on to her new interest in witchcraft and conspired against her to get rid of her before the town found out and their family na me was forever ruined. They dug a cellar deep into the backyard, much deeper than usual, but Adria didn't notice because she was preparing for her very first ritual! What could go wrong? After completing the ritual Adria began to feel unwell and her skin drained of colour. She was too weak to fight back when her father and brother dragged her into the cellar and locked her inside. She eventually passed out. The cellar was buried back in, and saying the name "Adria" was forbidden in the family for generations after her brother had passed.

And then we get to modern times! Adria's great, great, great? niece Addy had inherited her recently passed grandfather's house. She lived away all her life; her father moved away from home as soon as he turned 18 to get away from his ridiculously superstitious family, and named his only daughter, the first girl in generations, "Adria" of spite. Addy's in college studying design and thought it would be a great opportunity to move into her old family home and renovate it over the summer. She brought her best friend with her to stay, while they tackled the house together. One day they came across her great, great, great? Grandfather's confession hidden in a wall, and after dwelling on it for a few days, Addy's friend convinced her to start digging to find the cellar.

They find the cellar, and it turns out Adria's ritual did work, but it also turned her into a bit of a monster. The story proper would be about naïve, sheltered Adria discovering the modern world where she's no longer an object to be owned, and also looking for a cure for her blood thirst (because she basically turned herself into a vampire). She and Tallis would meet up again, but I'm not sure I'd want them to end up together romantically, since the only reason she really had for being in love with him was that he treated her as a human being lol. But they would definitely stay close and she would help him rebuild his family home and join him there to live.

I'm not tagging anyone because a lot of you have done it already and also I'm shy lmao

#SCRAPPED STORY CHALLENGE #ts4 #the sims 4

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melacka · 5 years

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A Blacklist Secret Santa

Hello there @meetmeatthecoda! Tis I, your Blacklist Secret Santa and I come bearing (slightly late) gifts! I wanted to write you a soulmate au but I just couldn’t get it together to write a good one, so I might just have to return to that idea later! Instead, I have written a sorta holiday-themed, weirdly angsty yet fluffy Lizzington fic. I hope you enjoy it!

Wishing you and yours a wonderful holiday season and a happy and prosperous new year!

Title: Less Conventional Methods by Melacka

Rating: M (mainly for some swearing and mild dirty talk at the end, it’s Gen most of the way through)

Summary: Tired of the way their relationship was going, Liz uses the opportunity of an undercover operation to be someone else for an evening.

Or, Red and Liz actually talk about their feelings.

You can read it on AO3 here or keep reading below.

Liz shifted nervously on her feet as she stared at the numbers ticking by in the elevator. After a moment, she realised what she was doing and willed herself to relax, conscious as ever of people possibly watching her. How many times had she herself profiled someone based almost entirely on surveillance footage they had obtained? How much information was she giving away in this short journey to the top of the building? She wondered idly what it would be like to just be able to go places and not consider who might be observing her. She dimly recalled a time in her life when she used to do that, when she could move with relative ease and freedom through the world. It seemed a lifetime ago, now.

Liz had borrowed a dress from Samar for the occasion. She hadn’t had time to go home before she needed to be at the party and apart from a rather noticeable difference in height, she and Samar wore about the same size. She glanced down at herself and tried not to feel self-conscious about how much skin was on display. She wasn’t exactly confident in her ability to pull this outfit off, but she had already decided that the best way to get through the evening was to pretend to be someone else entirely. Luckily for her, she knew just the person to create an entirely new identity for her. Tonight, she’d say goodbye to Elizabeth Keen and step into Andrea Deacon’s shoes.

Andrea Deacon was a successful accountant who dabbled in money laundering. She wouldn’t hesitate to wear a tight, low-cut dress and she was perfectly comfortable in those spike heels. Andrea Deacon was a strong, confident woman. She was unattached and unashamed. While Elizabeth Keen balked at the idea of schmoozing the city’s elite, Andrea Deacon merely smiled in anticipation.

She sighed and put her best bland smile on her face, smoothing down her dress in preparation for the evening ahead. They were all arriving separately and had agreed not to interact with each other unnecessarily. Red had provided them with some information about who would be in attendance but had, as usual, kept several pertinent details to himself. Liz was becoming accustomed to this particular habit of his, she saw it now more as a challenge to be overcome, rather than the constant irritant it used to be.

Liz stepped out of the elevator and glanced around the room slowly, locating the rest of her team easily. Ressler was ordering a drink at the bar, Aram was chatting animatedly with a young woman who kept touching his arm playfully, an action that Aram seemed baffled by, and Samar was dancing with someone that Liz was fairly sure ran one of the biggest banks in the country. She didn’t acknowledge any of them, they were all playing different roles tonight and would only check in sporadically. She couldn’t see Red anywhere, but she knew he was bound to be around here somewhere. There was no way he would trust them to handle it themselves and he could rarely resist a party. She caught sight of Dembe as she strolled calmly across the room and she smiled at him in invitation as she passed. She walked up to the far window and feigned interest in the view while she waited. Sure enough, within a minute she felt him come up behind her.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” she murmured without looking at him.

“Stunning,” he replied quietly, looking out across the city.

“Are you here alone?”

“No, I am here with my employer.” Dembe finally turned to look at her and smiled. “He is not far.”

“Oh,” Liz replied vaguely, glancing at him quickly before looking out the window again. “I don’t know many people here tonight. Are you able to give me any insight?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well,” Liz drawled, allowing a flirtatious smile to mask her anxiety once more, “is there anyone I should really avoid?”

Dembe smiled in response and beckoned her closer. She leaned in obediently, thinking to herself that Dembe could probably be quite the charmer when he put his mind to it.

“Avoid the blonde man with the moustache, he is very dangerous and not related to your mission here tonight. It would be unwise to draw his attention unnecessarily. The woman talking to Aram is well-connected but unskilled in these matters, she should be targeted. Agent Ressler has made contact with a business associate of my employer’s, he is talking with him now. This avenue should be pursued if you want this evening to be a success.”

“Anything else?” she whispered, careful to maintain her bland expression.

“Raymond is on the balcony and he would like you to join him when you can.”

“There’s a balcony?”

“Yes, to your left. It is quite well-concealed, no one will disturb you there, I will see to it.”

“Thank you.”

Liz stepped away from him quickly and walked straight towards where he had indicated the balcony was. Sure enough, as soon as she pushed her way outside, she could see the outline of a man near the edge. She shivered slightly in the cold but determinedly stepped towards him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said playfully. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your solitude.”

He turned around to smile at her, the same smile he used when he was trying to charm someone.

“Not at all,” he said smoothly. “I would appreciate the company.”

She approached with her hand outstretched and he accepted it gracefully.

“Andrea Deacon, nice to meet you.”

“Raymond Reddington,” he replied, bending over her hand to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “A pleasure.”

“So, Raymond,” the name tasted delicious on her tongue and she savoured it for a moment before continuing, “what are you doing out here all by yourself? You’re not enjoying the party?”

“I was hoping to meet an acquaintance here tonight, but she has yet to arrive.”

“An acquaintance?” Liz said lightly. “Is she a special acquaintance of yours?”

“Oh, she’s very special.”

She felt a rush of warmth spread through her in spite of the cool air on the balcony.

“I believe you could make anyone feel special, Raymond.”

“You barely know me, Andrea,” he rumbled. “How could you possibly know that?”

“There’s something in the way you’re looking at me.” Liz took a careful step closer to him so they were standing almost inappropriately close to each other. “It makes me think that anyone you focused on at any time would feel like the most important person in the universe.”

He smiled at her, slow and teasing. She stared at his mouth, completely unashamed.

“It’s a dangerous sensation, of course,” she continued. “Intoxicating, to be sure, but nothing more than a façade, I fear.” She stepped back from him and turned her attention to the view. “Unsustainable.”

“You are remarkably perceptive,” he said dryly, turning to face the view with her. “Are you here alone?”

“For now, yes,” she said casually. “But the night is still young.”

“And full of possibilities, no doubt.”

“There is at least one possibility that appeals to me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she said calmly. “Would you like to dance?”

“I would be delighted,” he said cheerfully. “Lead the way.”

Liz laughed and put her hand on his shoulder.

“I think it’s better if you lead, Raymond.”

“You want to dance out here?” he said with a smile as he took her hand in his and wrapped the other around her waist. “Without any music?”

“If there’s no music, you can’t be out of time,” she said happily. “And I like it out here.”

“As you wish.”

Red started to slowly lead her around the balcony in an easy step. She caught herself trying to lead a few times but for the most part, she left him to handle it. She pressed herself closer to him, shivering slightly.

“Are you cold?” he murmured after a few minutes.

“Just a little,” she lied. In truth, she was freezing, but she didn’t want to go inside just yet.

Red started to unbutton his tuxedo jacket, but she stopped him before he could take it off. Instead, she moved even closer to him and wrapped her arms around him inside the jacket.

“Better?” he asked, amused.

“Much,” she said contentedly. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he murmured, pressing his lips into her hair softly.

“The woman you mentioned earlier,” Liz said suddenly and Red paused slightly in his swaying rhythm. “What is she to you?”

He didn’t answer for a moment and she pulled back her head to look at him, keeping her arms firmly around him.

“It’s difficult to explain,” he said quietly, not looking at her.

“But she’s important to you?” Liz persisted.

“Of course she is, but I don’t know what I am to her.”

“What?” Liz scoffed. “How can you not?”

“To say that there have been some mixed messages between us would a dramatic understatement.”

Liz snorted and leaned her head against his shoulder again.

“We’ve been different things to each other at different times, but never quite what I want us to be.”

“What about what she wants?”

Red laughed loudly and dipped Liz suddenly.

“I have no idea what she wants.”

Liz gasped slightly as Red brought her back upright and resumed their slow circling dance.

“Have you ever asked her?”

“I feel that might be counter-productive, Andrea,” he said calmly, and Liz just barely suppressed a flinch at her assumed name. “We have never had the kind of relationship that encourages open communication.”

“Why not?”

“A lot of reasons,” he said dismissively. “A certain suspicion seems inherent to both our natures, for starters, our work means that we go from allies to adversaries from day to day, and there have been several times when one or the other of us has been right not to trust the other.”

“Sounds very complicated,” Liz whispered, feeling her heart sink within her. “Is there no way through?”

“Not through conventional means, I fear.”

“You don’t strike me as a slave to convention, Raymond. Maybe it’s time to try something a little unconventional.”

“Any ideas?” he said lightly, twirling her away from him and then back into his embrace. “I am open to suggestion.”

“Talking doesn’t seem to be working for you, so maybe it’s time to act.”

“And what action should I take?”

Liz thought in silence for a moment and then grinned as she said, “Is that mistletoe over there?”

“Perhaps,” he said, not turning around.

“Maybe you should have a moment under the mistletoe and forget speaking for a while.”

“And if the lady is not receptive?” he asked mildly.

“Perhaps the lady is waiting for you.”

They stopped dancing and stared in silence at each other. Liz allowed her eyes to dart down to his lips once more, projecting her desire as much as she could.

“Raymond,” Dembe called quietly from the door and Liz nearly groaned. “The lady’s absence has been noted.”

“Damn it,” Liz said quietly.

Red smiled coolly at her and stepped away from her.

“I fear our time has come to an end, Andrea, but I thank you for the advice.” He swept her hand up to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her skin. “And thank you for the dance.”

He lowered her hand again and left without a word. Liz watched as he made his way easily through the crowd and straight for the elevator.

“Damn it,” she said again.

Later that night, freshly showered and dressed in her normal clothes, Liz nervously knocked on the door to Red’s safe house. She'd spent the last two hours working herself up to the point where she felt she could talk to him, but she hadn't really planned what she would say.

“Elizabeth.”

Dembe exhibited no surprise at seeing her so late at night, he simply stepped away from the door to allow her to pass. He silently pointed at a closed door that Liz assumed concealed Red. She nodded her thanks as Dembe retreated down the hall without a word.

Liz took a deep breath as she paused in front of the door, psyching herself up to what could be an uncomfortable conversation. She hesitated and briefly debated within herself about whether she should just come back the next day, before she rolled her eyes at how ridiculous she was being and pushed the door open. Unfortunately, she pushed it with a little more force than was strictly necessary and it rebounded noisily off the wall. Red stared at her in shock as she stopped the door with her hand and moved sheepishly over the threshold.

“Uh—” she said awkwardly.

“Now that’s how you make an entrance,” he said with a smile and Liz felt the little knot of tension she’d been carrying ease slightly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, Elizabeth.”

He said it mildly enough, but Liz could hear the question in his statement and knew that it was her way in, a way to start the conversation they needed to have. She could ease into it, just like she planned.

“I really wanted to kiss you at the party,” she blurted out and then cringed.

Smooth, Liz, she thought to herself. Real smooth.

“Oh?” Red said blandly, an expression of polite interest on his face that infuriated her. “Are you here to collect?”

“Well, yes,” she replied with far too much honesty. She cringed again. “I mean that I – that is, I’m not—” Liz trailed off with a sigh. “I’m no good at this stuff, Red. I don’t know how to—”

She gestured vaguely with her hands, hoping that he would put it together for himself and save her from her embarrassment.

“Don’t know how to what?”

Clearly, he was not in the mood to save her.

“Red, please,” she groaned.

“Elizabeth, I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.” He wandered over to the bar and started to pour himself a drink. “We have had far too many misunderstandings recently and I am far too tired to play any more games this evening. Drink?”

“Please.”

She followed him to the bar and watched as he poured her a drink. She kept her eyes on his hands, mesmerised as always by the grace of their movements. Such beautiful hands for such a dangerous man.

Liz sighed as Red handed her a drink, but she didn’t move away from him.

“Why are you here, Elizabeth?”

“You’re right,” she said decisively. “There have been too many misunderstandings between us lately and I’m sick of it.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” She gulped her drink down and he raised his eyebrows in surprise at her. “So, I’m going to try something a little different.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’m going to tell you what I want and ask you to respond honestly. Can you do that?”

“I—”

“I know you don’t want to commit yourself, Red, I’m not asking that of you.”

“Elizabeth, you are the single greatest commitment of my life,” he said wearily, moving away from her to sit in the armchair by the fireplace. “So, when I hesitate, it is not for a want of commitment.”

“What is it then?” she asked quietly.

“Experience,” he said harshly. “My experience tells me not to commit to anything with you, but—”

He stopped talking abruptly and looked away from her. He sipped his drink in agitated silence for a moment. She replaced her own glass on the bar and moved toward him slowly. When she stood directly in front of him, she waited for him to look at her again. When he did, his expression was carefully neutral again.

“But what, Red?”

“My experience is one thing but what I want—” He shook his head again and looked away with a sigh, leaning back in his chair slowly. “When you tell me that you are going to tell me what you want and that I should give you an honest response, I desperately want to believe that it is possible.”

“It is!” she insisted desperately.

“Is it? My experience with you, Elizabeth, tells me that it can never be. But my heart?”

Her breath caught in her throat and she felt the tears begin to build. This was not going like she planned it at all. She slowly knelt in front of him and placed her hands on the arms of the chair.

“Red, please, tell me.”

“My heart is a fool, Lizzy,” he hissed. “Every time there is even the slightest chance—"

“Red—”

“An old fool, that’s what I am. My heart has turned me into a fool.”

“We are all fools,” she whispered.

“In love?” he said mockingly, and she flinched.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” she asked him miserably.

He stared at her in silence for a moment and then said, “I want to believe you.”

“Then we come back to my original purpose. Will you let me tell you what I want from you? And will you try to respond honestly?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Tell me what you came to say.”

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves once more.

“I don’t know how to get past this barrier between us, Red, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

“The barrier has always been your choice, Elizabeth.”

“It may have been my choice, Red, but you can’t pretend that you don’t contribute to it at all.”

He didn’t say anything, which she took as acquiescence. Or at least, not outright disagreement.

“But like I said earlier, talking hasn’t done has any good lately. It’s time to let go of conventional methods.”

“Oh?” he said, his interest piqued. “And what unconventional methods did you have in mind?”

She grinned at him and removed a tiny sprig from her pocket.

“What’s this?” she said, feigning confusion. “I think it might be mistletoe!”

Red just stared at her silently.

“You still haven’t told me what you want, Elizabeth.”

“I would’ve thought that would be obvious.”

“Humour me.”

“I want you,” she said simply. “I want us to be able to talk through our issues and deal with them like adults. I want to spend evenings with you where we’re not working and we’re not playing games. I just want to be able to be with you and not constantly worry that you’re playing me or using me. I want to make love to you.”

Liz smiled when she saw Red’s sudden intake of breath.

“I want to know how it feels to have you all around me, Red.” She moved her hands, so they were grasping his thighs and he jumped. “To be surrounded by you, consumed by you.”

“Lizzy—” he croaked.

“I want to fuck you,” she whispered, raising herself from her knees and slowly climbing into his lap, maintaining eye contact as she moved. “And I want you to fuck me. I want to still be able to feel you the next day. I want to know how you taste.”

Red closed his eyes as she rolled her hips against him.

“I want to love you, Red,” she whispered. “And I want to know that you love me in return.”

“Lizzy,” he groaned, her name drawn out and desperate.

“But if all that is too much right now,” she continued quietly, extracting her sprig of mistletoe yet again and raising it above their heads, “there’s always this.”

“Mistletoe, Lizzy?”

“Yes, because talking clearly isn’t working. It’s time to try slightly less conventional methods.”

She leaned in close to him but still kept a very slight distance between them. Red searched her eyes desperately and Liz tried to project all her love and desire in her gaze.

“The lady is waiting for you, Raymond,” she whispered.

“I would hate to keep a lady waiting,” Red said and Liz grinned in triumph as his lips finally met hers.

#the blacklist secret santa #lizzington #fanfic

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perfeggso · 4 years

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Noir (yutae)

Week I pt. 2

Tokyo – fall of 1983: Nakamoto Yuta is quickly rising in the ranks of one of Japan’s most notorious yakuza families, and he’s poised to climb even further if he can stop himself from being ruined by the pretty Korean boy who’s shown up out of nowhere.

Glossary of Japanese words

Characters: Yuta x Taeyong + NCT ensemble, Twice J-line (for funsies)

Genres: Gang!AU, angst, smut, fluff, 1980s!AU

Warnings: graphic violence, swearing, minor character death, alcohol use, mentions of drugs, period-typical homophobia, xenophobia, BDSM

Rating: 18+

Length: 2k (will progressively get way longer)

They had beaten Taeyong when he had asked. He had gotten on his knees before the leader of the Specters and implored him humbly to let him join. He would be a model warrior, he had assured: would fight unquestioningly anyone who challenged the gang and never run away. He could prove himself. The Spectors’ leader had pointed to the full red circle on his white headband. Don’t you know we don’t accept gaijin ? I’m not a gaijin , Taeyong had argued, only to be met with a venomous cackle. Taeyong was sure he had felt a thin rain of spit land on him from the force of the laugh. What are you then, Zainichi? That’s worse! Then they beat him. That was seven years ago, but it still carried trauma for Taeyong.

Gassan-ya was not Taeyong’s favorite bar, but it was doing him good to laze there at the counter drinking alone, eating peanuts, and listening to a mixture of citypop hits from the jukebox behind him and a report on Mitsubishi’s rising stock values on the television hanging from the ceiling. That’s what he had been doing, until the Specters came zooming on their souped-up bikes past the front windows, hooting and hollering in their white uniforms, and banging baseball bats and rusty pipes against the pavement as they went. Taeyong cursed to himself upon seeing the group of boys speeding off to a battle, shoving a handful of peanuts in his mouth and swigging the rest of his beer before ordering another.

He could never figure out why he was always so enamored with the Bosozoku boys he saw; why he had felt a need to become one. Was it his desire for a sense of identity and belonging? A need to act out against his parents’ authority? The terrifying thrill he got from imagining himself in battle, taking a bat to some poor young man’s head? Was it self-hatred? He figured the correct answer was probably all of the above. Walking around for almost a quarter century in Japan with the name Lee Taeyong had naturally brought him nothing but rejection – professional, academic, romantic, you name it. And those who had accepted him were often no better off in life than he was. Two of his best friends were locked away for petty theft, after all.

So, Taeyong had tried to join a violent biker gang at the age of seventeen, learning to ride his dad’s old motorbike, style a pompadour, and roll his R’s in preparation to make his case. He did it because if he was going to be an outcast he at least wanted to be an outcast that someone could give a damn about. He liked the thought of letting off some steam in a grand way, of being a source of fear for prosperous average Japanese people, of claiming his own place in the warrior tradition. And it would have pleased him to have one of those bikes too.

But it had gone horribly wrong when he did make his case, and now he was too old for the Bosozoku anyway. He spent his days working at an autobody shop and his nights drinking and trying not to get too close to anyone. You see, Taeyong was a sensitive boy, but he lived in a world where it didn’t pay to be sensitive.

The bartender slid Taeyong his Sapporo over the counter as the rumble of twenty Bosozoku bikes was finally fading into the night, and he downed the drink as quickly as he possibly could. It was a nice night and he needed to get out into the fresh air.

Taeyong left the bar on the outskirts of Tokyo and rounded the corner to a sidewalk perpendicular to a small alleyway. Taeyong noticed curiously the sound of what he could only assume was an interpersonal struggle coming from the alley behind Gassan-ya: feet scraping against asphalt, heavy breaths, and urgent growled arguing. Against his better judgement, perhaps because he had exceeded his usual drink limit, Taeyong decided to investigate, clutching the switchblade he kept in his pocket and tiptoeing cautiously as if attempting to approach a spooked deer. When he got close enough to see, he found two men in trench coats hovering over the man Taeyong recognized as managing the bar in some capacity. In the dusky light it was hard to make out anything clearly, but Taeyong was pretty sure at least one of the men held a revolver. Taeyong tightened his grip on the knife and peeked out from behind a stack of liquor crates since he didn’t know what else to do and his curiosity was getting the best of him. As if that would save him.

“I’m sorry, we’re just a little short!” The man on the ground was attempting to explain – his voice hoarse.

“Well we’re sorry, but we need 30,000 for this week.”

“Please!” protested the apparent victim. “We’ll get it to you soon. Just – just give us a couple days. I’ll do anything you need and we won’t be late again!”

Taeyong assumed the assailants would respond with something, but instead, the man on the ground seemed to spot him spying, their eyes locking, and Taeyong’s heart plunged into his stomach as the men in trench coats turned around and aimed at him.

“Come out, whoever you are,” said the closer one, “hands above your head!” Were they cops?

Hesitantly, Taeyong crept out from his hiding spot and raised his arms as his lips attempted to form something coherent to say.

“What are you doing here?” Asked the other one.

What was he doing there?

“I – I heard something. I thought it might be a mugging…I’m sorry, I’ll just go.”

“Don’t move,” said the first one. He turned to his partner. “Take him to the van. Kid’s a liability.”

“Yes sir!” The farther one approached Taeyong and all of a sudden, his mind was spinning not just from the alcohol but also from the battle raging in his mind between the urge to run and the knowledge that he could very well lose his life. If he were a wild animal, he would be playing dead.

Evidently, Taeyong didn’t think quickly enough, because his kidnapper had already reached him and taken off his hat to cover Taeyong’s face with. He was led to a van, then formally blindfolded and handcuffed and left to wait for the two men to finish doing whatever they planned to do to that poor bar-owner.

The next several hours were the most terrifying and disconcerting thing that Taeyong had ever experienced. First, they took him into the city to somewhere in Aoyama, he was pretty sure, and proceeded to have a conversation about him as if he weren’t right there with a man named Gwang-suk (Taeyong noted the Korean name with a mixture of comfort and dread). Should they kill him? Please, no . Should they let him go? That would be greatly appreciated . Should they recruit him? To do what exactly??? Taeyong had deduced at this point that he was being held by one or another yakuza syndicate, but beyond that he could not have been more lost. Then, Gwang-suk suggested they take Taeyong to someone named Nakamoto and that was that: back in the car.

A twenty-minute drive and he was marched into another building and shoved into a chair at an oak desk and finally allowed to see his surroundings. Taeyong heard a man and a woman talking muffled through a wooden door behind the desk which, when it slid open, revealed a handsome man with white hair and piercings wearing a snakeskin suit. In fact, Taeyong was briefly distracted by just how handsome the man was.

“ Shategashira !” Taeyong’s kidnappers bellowed, saluting the younger man who was now seated at the desk facing Taeyong.

“At ease,” he said coolly in a rounded Osaka accent.

The man on Taeyong’s left spoke. “We’re sorry to interrupt you and Ms. Hirai, sir!”

“That’s no problem,” said the man Taeyong could only assume was “Nakamoto.” “Work is always my priority as you know.”

“Of course, sir!”

The two men recounted their version of events with great enthusiasm and Nakamoto listened. When they were done, he looked at Taeyong straight-on and asked, “is this all accurate?”

The directness startled Taeyong. “Um – yes, factually that’s more or less it. But I was never trying to get into any trouble! I promise I would never talk!”

“Yes,” said Nakamoto, seeming to search Taeyong’s face. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. But you see, the Inagawa-kai simply can’t afford any loose ends, as I hope you understand.” So that’s whose custody he was in, Taeyong realized, only the third largest and second most powerful criminal organization in Japan – maybe in Asia. No sweat.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your name?” Nakamoto asked.

“Taeyong. Lee Taeyong.”

Nakamoto nodded knowingly. “Mm, I figured that’s why you ended up here. I deal with all the zainichi .”

Nakamoto was the first Japanese person Taeyong had heard say that word without even a hint of distaste and this fact only confused his fear even further. Taeyong had never felt more helpless. Here he was, with no idea how anything around him worked nor what it meant, his life so fully in the hands of this beautiful man across from him that it made his head pound.

“So, Taeyong. Let’s figure this out. Where are you from? What do you do? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

What is this, a job interview?

“I…well…um, I grew up in Shin-Ōkubo and I uh, still live there. I work in an auto shop fixing cars. I’m 24? What else do you need to know?”

“We’re the same age,” remarked Nakamoto with a slight smile, and Taeyong wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be a means of connection between the two men or a subtle jab at Taeyong’s relative lack of status. Either way, the nervous shaking in Taeyong’s body was beginning to fade as he became more and more confident he was not in imminent danger of death. However, he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility he was being toyed with.

Nakamoto spoke again. “How about your family?”

“We’re not very close,” said Taeyong. “We only speak very occasionally.”

“Well,” Nakamoto responded, “we’re similar in that regard as well. Do you have a criminal record?”

Taeyong was a bit taken aback by the question, but he was speaking with a gangster, so it wasn’t too out of the blue. “I’ve stolen some shit, but I don’t usually get caught. Spent a couple nights in jail for property damage a while ago. Things like that, I guess? I was sort of in a gang with my close friends in high school, but we didn’t do much other than loiter. When I tried to join more established gangs I was rejected.”

“I see,” said Nakamoto, “well you could still always join a gang, if you haven’t already outgrown that impulse.”

Was this the recruitment his kidnappers had mentioned? How on earth to respond? “Oh?”

Nakamoto laughed, a sharp sound. He was apparently done dealing with his victim and turned to the larger of the men who had abducted Taeyong. “Find someone to go back home with him and monitor him tonight. I think we’ll make him a foot soldier. It’s better than the alternatives. Understood?”

“Yes, Shategashira !”

Yuta turned back to Taeyong, who had gone tense against his chair. What’s a foot soldier? For Inagawa-kai? Would he have a gun? Could he even fire a gun?? What were those alternatives that would be unspeakably worse??? And what was he supposed to say to his boss????

Nakamoto addressed Taeyong one more time. “I hope you understand that this is for your own good and that you won’t resent me. I'm confident that we can come to an understanding. I’ll be seeing you soon.” And with that, Nakamoto was back out the door and Taeyong was once more being hauled to his feet.

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believetruth · 4 years

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Soul Card Tarot – What She Doesn’t Want You To Know.

If I told you I was truthful and honest, then you found me lying, I’d lose my credibility.

If I told you I designed my deck and then you found out I didn’t design my deck, I’d lose my credibility.

If I accused someone of copying my deck then you found out that I’m the one that actually copied other decks I’d lose my credibility.

Can you see where we are going with this?

“It’s often the self-proclaimed honest people that end up being anything but honest.”

We are not going to self-proclaim ourselves as anything, We are just going to present the reader with facts and things to ponder to make an informed decision.

Kristine Fredheim from ‘Soul Cards Tarot’ and some of her fans are making some very hypocritical accusations of another tarot card creator, claiming that another card deck creator produced a tarot deck that is a direct and blatant copy of the Soul Deck.

Why you ask, would we, (I write this alongside my partner) take the time to put this information together? It’s simple. Look at what’s going on in the world right now, all the wrong-doing, all the unnecessary political hatred, prejudice and bigotry. We stand up for injustice, plain and simple, even if it revolves around our love for tarot cards. When we see our fellow tarot community try to tarnish the name of another without being truthful and honest, it’s upsetting and should be called out. We are calling a spade a spade. We now live in a world where lies and injustice should not be tolerated. Collectively, my partner and I have studied tarot for over 2 decades have had over 200 decks of various forms and styles. We have degrees in psychology, anthropology, art history and women’s studies and together we design and fabricate our own line of furniture. Not only that, we are backers and strong supporters in the Kickstarter campaign being accused of copying “Rip Off” the Soul Deck. More on that later. Although very rare these days, we present this to you using logic and common sense. And with that, no doubt, we will find people that disagree and lack the ability to use reason, common sense, and logic to form their opinion. They only see what they want to see, are unwilling to take their blinders off and see with their eyes and not their ego. To those accusers out there, we challenge you to use our logic against us to prove us wrong. We know there are unjust accusations being played out only to cause harm and we have no room for that in our changing world.

Now, let’s look at the facts that I’m sure Soul Card, Kristine doesn’t want you to know about.

Kristine claims to have designed her deck. In fact, she is not a designer and not the designer of her deck. The designer of Kristine’s deck is Cocorrina. On Cocorrina’s site it states that Kristine is a writer and psychic medium not a designer. It may be Kristine’s idea to create a Tarot deck, but it wasn’t designed or created by Kristine like she claims. Kristine no doubt had input and may have paid Cocorrina for the design, but Kristine can’t honestly say her deck is her design or creation. Kristine is not being honest in this regard.

Now for the artwork, concept and originality of the Soul Card deck:

The top black deck is Soul Deck and the bottom deck is Nocturna by Lana Markina.

To come out and say others are copying or ripping off your deck means you had better have some really strong evidence. Those are very strong accusations. But the accusers have no strong evidence and clearly have done little to no research on the genesis of the Soul Deck. We will now bring your attention to some surprising similarities your beloved Soul Deck has with other decks. I’m sure you’ll be scratching your head after you see this, and the words hypocrite, liar, fraud, will likely come to mind. So, let’s take a look and see how unique and special Kristine’s Soul Deck really is and then ask yourself; Who’s copying who here?If you learn anything from this simple example, it’s that it is easy to see the Soul Deck is in no way setting a trend in terms of design approach. There are several tarot decks all in a similar style. Text, text locations, composition, design language, gold on black, metallic ink, line styles, overall feeling and other aspects are all very similar. No one can argue that. IS SOUL DECK A COPY OF OTHER DECKS? You be the judge. Should Soul Deck and her fans be accusing others of copying her? Does that make any sense? Again we are using logic and common sense here.Now let’s look at another example: Soul Card’s Kristine Fredheim is out right accusing Lisa Santine of copying her deck design. You’ve already seen how similar Kristine’s black Soul Deck is to others, now you be the judge in this next example:

see the 2 images of the pink colored cards. The upper deck is the Soul Deck and the lower image is of the Destiny Deck.

Let’s be honest here. About the only things these two decks have in common is they are both printed in a color tone primarily in the red color spectrum. Soul Deck is a single pink color with gold foil lines. The Destiny Deck is multi toned with distinctly different tonality including blue and deep burgundy color tones and also uses gold foil details. These decks are distinctly different not like the black cards above using the exact same black and gold foil as other cards. Soul Deck is very simple with single line drawings always straight down the center of the card leaving lots of empty space around the art. Destiny Deck is much more complex and intricate. The Destiny art occupies much of the card’s area, using different color hues. The Soul deck is strictly made up of gold foil lines. The Destiny art uses both gold foil details and different inks for the line work. Destiny’s art is further defined with subtle background shapes, and color shades adding design intelligence to the deck. Destiny Deck has a common thread between each card, that is the moon phases, something that aligns all human spirits together. Every card in the Destiny Deck was created by one person, Lisa Santine. Santine didn’t come up with an idea and then hire a graphic designer to do the design. These are all things the Soul deck does not have. Yet, the Soul Deck is claiming to have some superiority complex and accusing Destiny to be a copy of the Soul Deck. Both decks have text, a border, and a floral motif on the back of the card. But to blatantly accuse Lisa Santine of copying the Soul Deck is a sign of insecurity and weakness. It’s fair to say they are similar and maybe even related in some way, but a copy? – Come on!! Using logic and reason, where’s the evidence of copying.Tarot uses common symbology: cups, swords, pentacles, wands etc. If my sword is long with a handle and yours is long with a handle is that a copy? If I Google the shape of a pentacle and see that they all look the same, does it mean someone is copying me if I see another pentacle on another card?Speaking personally, in the decades we have studied and embraced the world of Tarot, we both agree that the Destiny Deck stands head and shoulders above the vast majority of decks we have seen and collected. Although a 2D card, there is a level of depth and understanding of the tarot realm we have never seen. This is a deck we admire like no other and it’s still in the funding stage and hasn’t reached our hands yet. The energy coming from the design is extremely powerful and speaks to us in a way very few things can.Having designed and fabricated furniture for many years we create something truly special to us every day. From time to time we see another piece that has similarities to our furniture. What do we do when we see that? We smile and know that in some way we helped shape and inspire another loved soul also creating furniture or perhaps that person was inspired by the same love energy that inspired us.I encourage Kristine Fredheim and her fans to do some “Soul” searching and ask, who’s doing the copying here? Why is her black deck so similar to other black decks? Then she should ask herself why she feels it’s important to try to tarnish the name of a lovely spirit in our tarot community. Does she have a right to claim all light red decks as hers and her unique creation? Does she have the right to claim decks with a flower motif her own? Does she have the right to claim decks that have a pentacle in the center of the card hers? The answer is, no, she doesn’t. Countless decks have these same characteristics and are part of the tarot zeitgeist. Kristine, you are only hurting yourself when you try to hurt and tarnish someone else’s name or when you enable your fans to do the same. If you are looking for approval you should have it by now. Your deck is liked by many no matter how similar it looks to other decks. You’ve had success with your deck designed by Cocorrina. You should feel content in knowing you have a card deck that’s been well received. Now let the rest of the tarot community prosper from their relentless creative efforts and don’t let your insecurities get the best of you. Seeing first-hand how “similar” Kristine Fredheim’s black Soul Card deck is to others and then knowing that she and her fans are accusing others of copying her should be a clear sign as to the type of person behind the Soul Deck.

Be true to yourself and be guided by your heart.

#mhysa soultarot destinytarot tarot truth lies Nocturnatarot bereal behonest

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