#it was simpler before Rob had to go and get all specific

[sonatanotwo]

Okay. I rattle on a lot about ages... so figure I might drop my brain thinkings into a post so if anyone is curious how I arrive at my estimates... well... here you go. Hang onto your hats... I’m about to drop a LOT of info. XDDD

Okay. I rattle on a lot about ages... so figure I might drop my brain thinkings into a post so if anyone is curious how I arrive at my estimates... well... here you go. Hang onto your hats... I’m about to drop a LOT of info. XDDD

There’s a few things to establish first... some facts and things I’m gonna assume based on how things are presented.

The series starts in 2060 (as quoted by Virgil in Ring of Fire)

If Alan is graduating now, he’s probably 18 (as I mentioned in reply to blanket-fish and few others ^^) and usually that’d be June-ish in NA school systems... and since we’re dealing with american characters and largely american writers, including the head writer... I’m goin’ with that!... SO... current eps would be around then.

Also gonna assume Scott is about 10 years older than Alan. (Some old TAG magazine that I hold to a grain of salt said 9 years... but I mean. 10 is nicer and I mean... TECHNICALLY with how their birthdays are... you could say actually they’re 9 years and lil’ over 11 months apart. SO, then that would make it 9 years technically if you really wanna round down. lol BUT yeah, I’m goin’ with 10.)

So first let’s talk about spacing. Generally when I age the boys I try to give them at LEAST 18 months between them... which is really the amount of time one should give themselves between pregnancies at the very least. That’s easy for most of them... only John and Gordon come in a bit under that, but we’ll get back to that.

SO... I wanna go with, as of current eps, Scott is 28.

That’d make him born April 4th, 2035. (I think that’s right anyways.) Then we can make Virgil August 15th, 2037. (Which puts them 2 years and several months between.) John then October 8th, 2039, also over 2 years apart from Virgil... perf. THEN.. Gordon.

Gordon is the 14th of February. Now to make him 2041 that would mean their Mom had Gordon a lot sooner... like VERY lot sooner than like... the recommended time off after John. They’re such troublemakers those two. XDDD (THEY are, in fact, the reason TOS Virgil and John were switched. The company (that owned TOS at the time) wanted to make a “style guide” and  wanted the birthdates to match one info with a tighter age spread with John 22 and Gordon 21... which meant Gordon would be born 4 months after John. Which would be a WEE BIT IMPOSSIBLE. In the end they decided to switch John and Virg and tweak things to fit... that’s the tl;dr version of the story, but yeah!) SO yeah, the better choice might be to shove him another year to 2042, which then leaves plenty of time and is better for their Mom.

OKAY. SO. In current time then...

Scott is 28, Virgil 25 (26 in like less than 2 months), John 23 (24 in less than 4 months), Gordon then could be 21 (or 22 but ehhh) and Alan 18.

Then as for some of the other cast... Kayo is kinda hard to place these days, though I feel like given how she interacts with the older boys she is definitely a little on the older scale... but IDK where exactly. In TOS Tin-Tin was 22 and birthday June 20th, but that was to be close to Alan.

Penelope has come up... especially that line in RoF about her looking into things for Jeff. Don’t forget her looking into things is her and Parker looking into things. He’d be most likely one digging into stuff for her. XDa But yeah hrm... 17-18 then making her 25-26 now doesn’t sound so bad? lol 26 was actually her listed age in TOS. (Her birthday being Christmas Eve.) Once you get into your 20s and onwards a few years between people becomes nothing in regards to her and Gordon. ^^b And yeah. IDK. Late teen for sleuthing doesn’t bother me, but then I’ve grown up reading the likes of Nancy Drew and such, soooo... XDa Even being 16 isn’t tooooooooooo far fetched imho, but yeah. That line didn’t age well. lol Oops.

Grandma is a big \O_o/ And Jeff’s January 2nd birthday and was 56... I’d guess something similar in TAG, less perhaps a few years. ^^b That works fine for the boys. (Mid-late 20s then when Scott was born.)

And Brains... November 14th, for the record and in TOS he was 25, but I really do believe he’s much older in TAG. Well into his 30s even, since he’s been to university and worked for Fischler awhile after... then Jeff happened. Brains likely woulda been late teen or early 20s then? Then the TV-21 was built and sank... Scott was ‘just a kid’ when that happened. So like... 28... minus 8 years, minus maybe another 5-6? to make Scott 15-14... so near Alan’s ‘just a kid’ type age? But coulda been even bit younger. Plus then add a year or two working for Jeff and making the TV-21 and everything... Then if say he was least 18 when came to work for Jeff... Def talking in the realm of mid-30s. SO. That is my guess. lol (And so why I tend to think of Brains being like... older surrogate brother or uncle to the boys... cause he woulda met them all when they were decidedly kids.)

SO YEAH. These are my brain thinkings. I feel like I’m forgetting something, but I am le-tired. Be interesting to see if we get any more clues from the last ep or if Rob spills some data on twitter, which he has suggested he might least in regards to Jeff... so we shall see. XDa

OH lastly... for any of my fellow visual folk here’s my lil’ helpful chart that shows how I figured out time between birthdates of the older boys. (Remember you need 9ish (very much ISH) months for being pregnant. Then they recommend 18 months between being pregnant... yes Virg and John are a titch under that, but least not by TOO too much.)

[ask-de-writer]

FIENDSHIP IS MAGIC  (Part 54 of ?)  18+ readers only  (sex scenes)

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FIENDSHIP IS MAGIC

or

Making Fiends and Influencing Ponies

An Anthro *Tail* of the Mane Six

Part 54 of ? (Work in Progress)

by

De Writer

59611 words (story in progress)

© 2022 by Glen Ten-Eyck

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on   or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

This story is age restricted to 18

years or older!

Users  of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original  characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the start HERE

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Twilight actually nodded at the outrageous claim that her seal was needed to be sure that she got her tax cut.  “It does, in fact, assure that, true.  However, the primary reason is simpler.  I send my agents to the address to determine whether the siezure or eviction is properly justified.  If it is, besides getting my seal to go ahead, I try to see that the evicted ponies are taken care of.  I do not want to have homeless ponies in Ponyville.”

Ex judge Horsefry snorted, “What do you do if you think it ain't justified?  Leave some poor landlord stuck for mortgage payments or property repairs?”

“They already are, MISTER Horsefry.  That is required to be in EVERY lease or rental contract.  A condition required to collect any rent or payment is that the property be maintained in a condition suitable for the intended use.

“In the past, the Crown investigation has uncovered many instances of evictions of tenants for requesting that REQUIRED repairs or maintainence be made.  That is illegal and those evictions were stopped.”

Horsefry stompped angrily, “That fool bleeding heart way of handling trivial things has cost Sir Snobbin Realty thousands of gold bits!”

It was Princess Luna who smiled like a shark about to bite!  “I am so happy to hear that eviction is such a trivial matter!  Bailiff, would you please serve this formal notice of eviction and property seizure to mister Horsefry?  Princess Twilight's seal is not required as it has both Celestia's and Mine.”

“What!? You got no grounds for seizing my home!”

Princess Luna snorted, “425 reasons, actually.  According to this report, that is how many seizures or evictions you pulled this post dating stunt on.”  She paused to swig some coffee and take a bite from a chocolate croissant with strawberry filling before continuing, “Each one is a count of Criminal Judicial Misconduct.  Those each carry a fine of one hundred golden bits.  Add in your portion of the damages to the Carousel's property and restitution to the assorted dancing mares that you had a direct hand in robbing and you owe just over three fourths of a million golden bits.  Seven hundred sixty five thousand four hundred and forty six golden bits, to be precise.

“According to your tax records, your total value of all assets combined is only fifteen thousand two hundred and seventy four golden bits.  Of course, it is always possible that you lied on your taxes but even if you did, I doubt that you have the necessary funds to pay what you presently owe.  Your house, lands and accounts will be set against your debit.”

“Um, Princess, I had no hand in the destruction of the antiques.  Reverend Tightcollar ordered that.  Anything connected to them should be dropped.  As for the claim that the dancing mares are due any restitution, I deny that.  They got that money by acts of lewdness. Ponyville cannot allow such behavior to be rewarded.”

Twilight lifted a paper and glanced over it before she spoke up.  “I have witness statements that contradict what you have just said. Specifically, the statements of the subverted officers concerning the illegal raid on the Carousel.  They all unanimously agree that you personally told them to not only carry out the raid and arrests, you told them to smash the door pane and the cash register.”

“I was only relaying Reverend Tightcollar's orders.”

Twilight intervened, “I am sorry but we did make clear at the beginning that no such defense will be accepted.  You were a willing part of the chain of command unless you can show us otherwise.”  She returned to her chocolate and strawberry Bismark and warm coffee.

It was Princess Luna who pointed out, “Simply because you disapprove of how another makes their living gives you no right to take away their legally earned or acquired money or goods.  What the dancers do was and is legal.  The taking by force of their earnings under any pretext is theft.  THAT IS ILLEGAL.  The dancer's restitution order stands.”

Twilight's reaching hands found no more of her favorite treats and settled for a vanilla topped twist.  Before biting into it, she stated, “So far, we have been hearing from the big fish.  I want to hear from the bottom of this food chain.  What do the officers have to say for themselves?  They did the actual raids.  We can always get any of the dancers, Pinkie Pie, Rarity or Kin to fill out what they tell us.”

Celestia snorted into her coffee!  “We need to get Pinkie here anyway! Those butterscotch treats seem to have evaporated!”

Luna, putting away her Magic Net mirror, chuckled, “Taken care of, Sister!  She was at the Carousel with a friend helping out on the costumes.  She is now hard at work replacing all of our snacks!  I told her to bring Kin with her when she makes the delivery.”

Rarity, Kin and Minty were hard at work, getting the new costumes made. Pinkie put away her Magic Net mirror and bailed for the kitchen!

“Kin! They just called from the trials!  We need to make up more snacks! All three Royals and Judge Coldheart are out of favorite snacks and are reduced to drinking dime store tea bag brew!”

Kin yielded her place at the new sewing machine and joined Pinkie in the kitchen!  She snickered, “Dime store tea bag brew?  I did not realize that anyone hated the Princesses that much!  Are they trying to assassinate them all?”

Pinkie looked up from stirring up bowls of fillings and toppings to agree, “It sure sounds like it, doesn't it?”

Soon the whole Carousel was filled with the lovely smell of deep frying goodies!  As fast as Kin could get them cooked and drained, Pinkie was shooting them full of all sorts of sweet fillings!  Rarity, having temporarily abandoned the costumes, was dipping them in toppings and Minty was boxing them up, being sure to label them according to which Princess preferred what kinds.

As Pinkie and Kin loaded the delivery cart, including three huge urns, one of regular coffee, one of hot chocolate, and one of Rom black tea, Rarity and Minty looked each other in the eye, and nodded silent agreement.  They began to cook up more goodies for themselves!

TO BE CONTINUED

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[jjpmoans]

Fixing it | pjy ft mkt

w.c : 3k+

a/n : This fic was written last year on the same date, when I was busy studying for my finals. I didn't get to finish it and was only able to finish it months after that. So I kept it in my draft for this year's birthday instead. Happy Birthday to the first person I met on Tumblr, the person who helps me to who I am on Tumblr now. I wish that you'll live long and you'll live happily. A lot of things happen but you're still in a special place in my heart. Happy belated birthday @prettywordsyouleft . I hope you like it, though i don't know if it is good or not!

You pull over your car in front of a workshop, grumbling as you calculate the amount of money that will be robbed by the mechanic once they see your car. You are not familiar with car workshops simply because it's not your field of expertise. Usually, the men in the household will take care of the cars while you take care of simpler things like yelling you are hungry and make food for yourself.

But your car wasn't being cooperative for days now, making loud sounds whenever you were driving. Your last straw was your air conditioning somehow became affected by the whole thing and now you have two things to complain about.

So you awkwardly stop in front of a garage which you had never stepped into before. Not that it is special, like you said, you had never directly negotiated with any of them. The only thing you had ever done was take the car when they're ready. This is a new thing for you and to talk with men with oil or dirt all over their faces is nerve wrecking.

Timidly, you step inside the garage, music greets you by blasting loudly against your eardrum. The garage smells like the mixture of grease, tires and also sweats. More specifically, boys sweat. It does not help when some random machine suddenly blows noises out of nowhere and it adds to the chaos you are dealing with. God you are starting to get headaches.

You jump when you accidentally kick a leg which is on the floor and you realize that there is a person underneath the car when he rolls out smoothly from under the car and groans. "You little piece of fucker- oh!" he stops when he sees that you are standing there with wide eyes and a scared face. 

"Sorry, I thought it was my co-worker." he apologizes, before he sits up on his creeper and crane his neck to shout, "Customers! Someone who is not a fucker and sits inside the office all day, come tend your customer before I slice your balls."

You nod, cringing at his colorful vocabulary while you stand there awkwardly, waiting for someone to help you. The mechanic lays down, looking at you apologetically, "Sorry but someone will help you. I need to fix this quickly before the owner comes."

Then you both hear footsteps and whip your heads. Another mechanic is coming towards your direction. He throws the spanner into the toolbox, wiping his hand with a cloth and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah get back to your work Jaebum." he falls into step in front of you, casually kicking Jaebum's creeper and pushing him back under the car. "And stop cursing in front of customers." You can hear Jaebum spilling another set of profanities again and you hold yourself from laughing at his immediate reaction.

"Okay so miss?" the mechanic claps his hand and brings you back to reality. "I'm Jinyoung and what is wrong with your car?"

You blink, suddenly have the inability to speak because wow, he looks good up close. His hair is so fluffy and very healthy for someone who works under the car everyday. His body is lean and god, are that arms? Oh god they look really buffed and toned. Is this how mechanics look like? Why didn't you discover this fact earlier? 

You heard a long sigh, automatically your head snaps just when you are about to praise other things, you watch him take a long breath and clamp his lips.

"Girls. Of course they don't know what's wrong with their car." he grumbles under his breath and you snap back at his word.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Bring me to your car, I'll check it for you." his eyes search for your car and when he spots it, he marches to your baby with you running behind him.

"Hello? I know what is wrong with my car!" you shout while trailing behind him. Stopping just in front of your car, Jinyoung raises his hand to his waist and stares at you.

"Well?" He crosses his arms. "Explain."

You take in a deep shaky breath because your level of annoyance skyrockets after this awfully rude Jinyoung man tries to say that you're ignorant towards your car.

"Well, it makes sounds. But definitely not the engine. It doesn't make a loud sound, but it halts a few times when I stop at the red light." You explain smoothly, the proud feeling when you manage to make him shut up and listen to you is making a concert inside your heart. "Also, it starts to affect the air-cond."

He nods, walking towards your door to inspect. As a reflex, you drop the key in his hand and he unlocked your car, starting the car. Your car roars to life, you anticipate the moment it changes the momentum and starts to halt.

But it doesn't. 

You wait for about two minutes and still nothing comes up. No halt nor loud sound. Jinyoung, one hand on the door and another on the door frame, raises his eyebrows in question. 

You stand there, feeling betrayed. It has been days and the car never stopped making those noises but suddenly when you decided to stop by the garage, it suddenly stopped making noises?

Impossible.

"What's up?" Another mechanic shows up, walking toward your direction.

"Well this miss said that the car has been producing loud noises but when we test it, there is none."

"This miss has a name." You bark. Jinyoung ignores you, gesturing to the other mechanic to come closer.

He presses the accelerator pedal and the car roars in no time. Still, there isn't any noise. 

"I swear it makes sounds!" you claim when Jinyoung and the others throw you side-eyes. "Maybe she's just afraid of you guys." you reason.

That is completely nonsense and you know better but you don't know how to defend yourself from two gorgeous guys who are currently giving you cynical looks.

The other mechanic bursts into laughter and Jinyoung follows him right after. Well, it seems like they love your humor but that does not mean they will drop the joke. 

"I think she's shy with us. Maybe she is more comfortable with girls." Jinyoung laughs. How dare him to mock you! If only you can pull out his teeth. "Should we change into bikinis and skirts Mark?"

God, why are boys so irritating!?? The car is still roaring behind them and sounds nothing like a problem and now you think you started to hate your car. How can she make you look like an idiot?

They both laugh again and not until the Mark guy tries to stop himself from collapsing. "You bet Jaebum will beat our asses for wearing skirts."

Jinyoung gives you a quick look and realises that you are not fazed with their humor, given your straight face. He lets out a snort, handsomely even snorts are supposed to be embarrassing, before talking to you. "Please, I'm sorry for laughing. But it was really funny. Imagine ME in a skirt!" 

"You bet." Jinyoung bursts into laughter again watching your anger rising. His eyes crinkle and his lips are widely stretched, maybe he's not that bad. He's handsome but he's a pain in the ass.

A handsome pain in your ass.

Just when you about to retort whatever thing Jinyoung just mocked you, you hear a faint snap coming from the car. Mark apparently notices something is wrong and taps Jinyoung before both of them land their eyes on the car dashboard display. 

"Temperature is increasing in Jinyoung." You do not understand anything but you are sure that means things are not good. Both of them watch the display again and while Jinyoung gets in the driver seat.

"Now miss. That is your car problem." In a blink of an eye, Jinyoung is already driving the car into the garage, leaving you and Mark behind.

"Come on. You need to sit down." Mark says, walking you back to the garage. "You are going to hurt your feet."

"Is this your first time coming to a workshop?" he asks. Unlike Jinyoung who made rude remarks at the first of your meeting, Mark is sweet and all smiles, making you feel at ease.

"Am I too obvious?"

Mark laughs, nodding along. "Well you are. It is not common for people to say 'maybe she's afraid of you guys' when their car doesn't seem broken like they think. Most people are really confident that their car does have a problem."

You can feel your cheeks redden at his words. Of course you panicked. It was not making any sense. You have suffered for days from the noises and it just disappeared when Jinyoung and Mark checked on your car. Now you think that maybe your car has a thing for handsome guys.

She's not wrong and her choice is really good. Mark, Jinyoung and Jaebum are stunning. Mark being the most stunning of all, you've concluded that. While Jinyoung is a pain in the ass and Jaebum is hot but full of curses.

You seat yourself at the side, watching the guys start to operate your bonnet. Though it is not that comfy considering there are a lot of sport rims and all sort of fluid behind you. Admittedly, you never like garages because it tends to get messy with oil and all but these boys are clean from them.

Maybe that is why they have a lot of customers. The huge garage alone shows that their business is good.

"So." Jinyoung's voice makes you jump in your seat. God, why is he like this? "Oh, did I scare you?"

"Well, obviously." you mutter. Jinyoung grins, showing his perfect white teeth. "Can you, i don't know, be more gentle when you try to talk?"

"Not my fault that you're daydreaming."

You groan at his reply. Damn, you should not expect anything from him. "You're so annoying. What is it?" The more you let him annoy you, the more victorious he will feel.

"Your car fan broke down." he explains. "And we need to change that. Basically, the motor won't move. When the motor doesn't move then the fan will not move. If it does not move, are you listening to me?"

You snap your attention from Mark who is walking behind Jinyoung, bringing some equipment for Jaebum. Narrowing your eyes, you mentally scold Jinyoung for taking away your attention from an ethereal man who looks too handsome to become a mechanic. He should be a model. Or he can work as your boyfriend. You wouldn't mind. 

Jinyoung sighs, tired with your lack of attention. Your eyes focus on him again, muttering an innocent, "I'm sorry, what?"

"No, you're not sorry," he says. You roll your eyes. "And I am saying that you need to change your fan and it costs around 280 dollar."

You mentally calculate it and figure that it will be quite a price. Sucking your breath, you ask him a question as to confirm your decision. 

"Will it be broken again?"

"What?"

"The fan." you say. "If I change it, will it break again?" You need this piece of information. Or will it be a waste of your money to fix this one and another keep breaking again? You know your trip to Garage Seven will be worth the time but money? You wince at the thought.

Jinyoung stares at you confusedly and begins laughing for no reason. In the span of fifteen minutes, you have been making Jinyoung either mocking or laughing at you. What are you? A clown?

"What? Why are you laughing?" you ask. "Hey don't laugh, I am serious!" you try to sound stern but fail miserably when Jinyoung hiccups from laughing too much.

"Sweetheart." your heart jumps at the endearment but still annoyed at his laugh. "Your question is basically like asking a doctor will the cancer still be there when you go through chemotherapy."

He still giggles but much more controlled than before. "Of course I don't know that. For now, the fan isn't working so that is the main problem. You need to monitor your car and check it daily. If there's no other problem then it will not be broken again."

"So it won't break again then." You conclude. "I'll change it then." Jinyoung shakes his head, crouching to your level, one knee almost touching the floor and another supporting his arm. 

"Why? You want it to break again so you can come to this garage to meet me?" The corner of his lips curve upward. God, you really want to wipe the smirk off his face. He looks completely dangerous and you are not prepared to fall for him. 

He grins, winking before getting up on his feet again, heading for your car, joining Mark in the process.

"The princess says it's okay to change it." He says loudly, you contemplate throwing the nearest screwdriver at him. 

You watch them operating your car, both of them fall into work in silence, standing side by side while one works on removing the fan, another one passing all the equipment. Their dynamic is really good, no wonder they attract many customers. 

Handsome face, wicked smile, dynamic teamwork. What else?

"Here." A bottle of mineral water appears, you look up to see angel Mark smiling widely at you again. What did you do in the past week to have an angel smiling at you like this? 

"Drink it." He says as you take the bottle politely and uncap it. "You need to drink in while waiting. It's not going to be long."

He points to Jinyoung, who is working hard to replace the fan. A few strands of hair fall to his forehead, beads of sweats covering his face. "Jinyoung is an ace at repairing. He repairs a lot. Cars, motors, bicycles, machines. Name whatever you want. He's really good at fixing."

"Let me see. Hm. People's hearts?" you shoot down a question. Realising that it might come off awkward, your eyes widen and you frantically raise your hand to correct it. "Oh god- I mean-"

To your surprise, Mark bursts out laughing, eyes crinkling and lips curve upward. His laugh, though you have heard it before, sounds like heaven. Suddenly there is this light behind him and he looks like an angel from heaven. God, how come your creation is too perfect?

"I can fix people's hearts too." comes Jinyoung, cutting off your moment. Why!? 

"Why? Is your heart broken?" he wipes his hand on the towel, squatting down to your level and looking up to you. "Who is that guy who breaks your heart?"

Mark looks at you curiously. You are stunned, not knowing what to say. Breaking is an understatement. Men have caused permanent damage to you until you don't think you are looking for love anymore. You will just settle for your life at the moment. But right now two men are staring at you curiously and you want anything to break your heart and ask any of them to fix it.

Damn you're so dramatic.

"It was an old story. Shouldn't be talking about that anymore." 

Your answer throws them into silence, both nodding and getting back to work on your car. Not that you don't want to share, however opening a closed wound will only make it worse. Also, your memory of that case is a blur because you opted it's the best to let go instead of hanging on to the pain.

"Ohhh pretty customer!" Another mechanic passes by you and you look up to see him in a beanie, a huge steel necklace hangs around his neck. With soft stubbles on his face, he smiles cheerfully at you.

"Ah! Welcome to Garage 7 miss!" He chirps. Different from them three, this one is a little bit exciting about everything. He doesn't have to jump for you to see through his eyes that he is an over excited one. "My name is Jackson but you can call me yours."

Everything happens so fast that you can register. You blink, followed by the two mechanics earlier, Jinyoung and Mark. Both of them stop in track, staring at Jackson incredulously. Funny that you feel the urge to laugh after watching Jinyoung and Mark are about to throw the pliers in their hand and Jackson who's hand is extending out for you to shake.

You burst into laughter, taking Jackson's hand to shake him. "Call you mine? No thanks. I'll call you Jackson."

Jackson shakes your hand again, slowly becoming too long for a hand shake. Your hand is already aching and you're one second away to pull your hand.

"Drop your handshake Jackson." Comes Jinyoung's warning, chilly and almost sends you into a panic. "Don't touch what's mine."

"I'm not yours." You retort. He cannot take away a good opportunity from you.

Jackson grins, dropping your hands altogether. "Oooofff I feel something burning." he jokes.

"You're dangerous miss. It's the first time both Jinyoung and Mark look like they're going to murder me at the same time. Usually only one of them."

Chuckling, he leaves you, walking over to kick Jaebum's leg, earning a handful of curses. You turn to ask about what Jackson says, only to be greeted by no one.

About ten minutes, Mark comes with your car key and your receipt, holding them to you. "I think it's okay now." He offers a smile, exchanging the paper between you. "Sorry for Jackson's and Jinyoung's behaviour just now."

You look down to read the receipt, your eyes falling to the scribble at the bottom of the paper.  Heat starts to warm you, your cheeks tints when you meet his eyes again. 

"I'll walk you to-"

"Mark!" Jaebum shouts from the office. Mark whips his head so fast that you are afraid that he'll snap it, turning back apologetically. 

"Sorry. Jaebum needs me. I guess, we'll meet again?" 

You nod, watching him walking backward toward the office. His smile, his eyes crinkling and his hair falling on his forehead makes it ethereal for you to believe that is actually happening.

'Call me!' He mouths, before getting inside the office. 

Still in state of shock and giddy, you enter your car, reversing her out of the garage. As you change your gear to drive, a hand knocks on your window.

You lower the window, your sight being greeted by the upper body of a man. Slowly, he lowers his head, hands on the door frame, supporting his weight.

Jinyoung's eyes meet yours, soft and excited. He exhales his breath quite hard, showing that he runs to catch you before you leave. 

"What's wrong?" Comes your question.

"Give me your phone." He asks. You look at him, trying to decipher what he means. "Your phone." He directs his eyes to your phone sitting on the passenger seat.

"Why should I give you my phone?" You ask, nonetheless giving him your phone. You absolutely have no idea why he asked for your phone.

He presses the keypad on the dial, pressing the green button before you can even stop him. "Hey!!! Who are you calling!!!???" He put it on your ear, waiting for it to connect.

Right then, a distant ringtone echoes from his back. He fishes his back pocket with his hand, bringing it to his ear. 

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Lord. You're damned.

Copyright © 2020 jjpmoans. All rights reserved

[ Writings ]

[theoutcastrogue]

Alignment in D&D

[by Jonathan Tweet, via EnWorld, June 2020. Jonathan Tweet is a game designer who has worked in D&D 3rd Edition, Ars Magica, 13th Age and others.]

Alignment is, on some level, the beating heart of Dungeons & Dragons. On the other hand, it’s sort of a stupid rule. It’s like the hit point rules in that it makes for a good game experience, especially if you don’t think about it too hard. Just as Magic: the Gathering has the five colors that transcend any world or story, so alignment is a universal cosmic truth from one D&D world to the next. The deities themselves obey the pattern of alignment.

On the story side, the alignment rules contain the rudiments of roleplaying, as in portraying your character according to their personality. On the game side, it conforms to D&D’s wargaming roots, representing army lists showing who is on whose side against whom.

The 3x3 alignment grid is one part of AD&D’s legacy that we enthusiastically ported into 3E and that lives on proudly in 5E and in countless memes. Despite the centrality of alignment in D&D, other RPGs rarely copy D&D’s alignment rules, certainly not the way they have copied D&D’s rules for abilities, attack rolls, or hit points. 

Alignment started as army lists in the Chainmail miniatures rules, before Dungeons & Dragons released. In those days, if you wanted to set up historical Napoleonic battles, you could look up armies in the history books to see what forces might be in play. But what about fantasy armies? Influenced by the popularity of The Lord of the Rings, Gary Gygax’s rules for medieval miniatures wargaming included a fantasy supplement. Here, to help you build opposing armies, was the list of Lawful units (good), the Chaotic units (evil), and the neutral units. Today, alignment is a roleplaying prompt for getting into character, but it started out as us-versus-them—who are the good guys and who are the bad guys?

Original D&D used the Law/Chaos binary from Chainmail, and the Greyhawk supplement had rudimentary notes about playing chaotic characters. The “referee” was urged to develop an ad hoc rule against chaotic characters cooperating indefinitely. This consideration shows how alignment started as a practical system for lining up who was on whose side but then started shifting toward being a concrete way to think about acting “in character.”

Another thing that Greyhawk said was that evil creatures (those of chaotic alignment) were as likely to turn on each other as attack a lawful party. What does a 12-year old do with that information? One DM applies the rule literally in the first encounter of his new campaign. When we fought our first group of orcs in the forest outside of town, The DM rolled randomly for each one to see whether it would attack us or its fellow orcs. That rule got applied for that first battle and none others because it was obviously stupid. In the DM’s defense, alignment was a new idea at the time.

Law versus Chaos maps pretty nicely with the familiar Good versus Evil dichotomy, albeit with perhaps a more fantastic or apocalyptic tone. The Holmes Basic Set I started on, however, had a 2x2 alignment system with a fifth alignment, neutral, in the center. For my 12-year old mind, “lawful good” and “chaotic evil” made sense, and maybe “chaotic good,” but “lawful evil”? What did that even mean? I looked up “lawful,” but that didn’t help. 

Our first characters were neutral because we were confused and “neutral” was the null choice. Soon, I convinced my group that we should all be lawful evil. That way we could kill everything we encountered and get the most experience points (evil) but we wouldn’t be compelled to sometimes attack each other (as chaotic evil characters would).

In general, chaotic good has been the most popular alignment since probably as soon as it was invented. The CG hero has a good heart and a free spirit. Following rules is in some sense bowing to an authority, even if it is a moral or internalized authority, and being “chaotic” means being unbowed and unyoked.

Chaotic neutral has also been popular. Players have sometimes used this alignment as an excuse to take actions that messed with the party’s plans and, not coincidentally, brought attention to the player. The character was in the party because the player was at the table, but real adventurers would never go into danger with a known wildcard along with them. This style of CG play was a face-to-face version of griefing, and it was common enough that Ryan Dancey suggested we ban it from 3E.

The target we had for 3E was to make a game that doubled-down on its own roots, so we embraced AD&D’s 3x3 alignment grid. Where the Holmes Basic Set listed a handful of monsters on its diagram, 3E had something more like Chainmail’s army lists, listing races, classes, and monsters on a 3x3 table.

When I was working on 3E, I was consciously working on a game for an audience that was not me. Our job was to appeal to the game’s future audience. With the alignment descriptions, however, I indulged in my personal taste for irony. The text explains why lawful good is “the best alignment you can be.” In fact, each good or neutral alignment is described as “the best,” with clear reasons given for each one. Likewise, each evil alignment is “the most dangerous,” again with a different reason for each one. This treatment was sort of a nod to the interminable debates over alignment, but the practical purpose was to make each good and neutral alignment appealing in some way.

If you ever wanted evidence that 4E wasn’t made with the demands of the fans first and foremost, recall that the game took “chaotic good” out of the rules. CG is the most popular alignment, describing a character who’s virtuous and free. The alignments in 4E were lawful good, good, neutral, evil, and chaotic evil. One on level, it made sense to eliminate odd-ball alignments that don’t make sense to newcomers, such as the “lawful evil” combination that flummoxed me when I was 12. The simpler system in 4E mapped fairly well to the Holmes Basic 2x2 grid, with two good alignments and two evil ones. In theory, it might be the best alignment system in any edition of D&D. On another level, however, the players didn’t want this change, and the Internet memes certainly didn’t want it. If it was perhaps better in theory, it was unpopular in practice.

In 5E, the alignments get a smooth, clear, spare treatment. The designers’ ability to pare down the description to the essentials demonstrates a real command of the material. This treatment of alignment is so good that I wish I’d written it.

My own games never have alignment, per se, even if the game world includes real good and evil. In Ars Magica, membership in a house is what shapes a wizard’s behavior or social position. In Over the Edge and Everway, a character’s “guiding star” is something related to the character and invented by the player, not a universal moral system. In Omega World, the only morality is survival. 13th Age, on the other hand, uses the standard system, albeit lightly. The game is a love letter to D&D, and players have come to love the alignment system, so Rob Heinsoo and I kept it. Still, a 13th Age character’s main “alignment” is in relation to the icons, which are not an abstraction but rather specific, campaign-defining NPCs. 

~ Jonathan Tweet [source]. Jonathan Tweet is a game designer who has worked in D&D 3rd Edition, Ars Magica, 13th Age and others.

From DDB's stats, 2019​

[yourcreepyneighborhoodelftwink]

As the Hero fell upwards through the sands of time, the days rewinding like the gears of a clock, he landed calmly on the cobblestones of Clock Town Square, at the dawn of the first day. He had been through this many times before, and had grown accustomed to reliving the same 3 days, helping the same people with the same schedules, slowly making more and more progress each time. At least he didn't feel an enormous time crunch, even with the threat of the moon hanging above him, he was always able to rewind the days, and could take days to rest, to sleep or ride Epona or play with the inhabitants.

He rarely did, but it was nice that the option was there.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Tatl getting his attention with a soft tinkling sound, looking over at the stand near the Deku flower, and the note pinned to it.

"That's certainly new…" she said cautiously as they approached, Tatl reading aloud to Link.

The pair exchanged a confused and frightened look. It wasn't signed, but they knew exactly who left the note for them.

BEN sat on the edge of the field, their boots hanging over the barrier where the grass turned into sand, looking out at the canyon leading to the beach. It had been so long since they had entered their game, only playing it from the outside. Perhaps they had been showing too much love to Breath of the Wild lately and not enough to the dark masterpiece of their former prison, or perhaps it was the only world they could enter that felt truly real, where the sun was warm and the wind blew. They HAD become a bit spoiled, learning that adding weather effects and random wind blowing did wonders to immersion when they entered a game.

They closed their eyes, speaking up before looking behind them.

"You didn't have to rush over here. "as possible" doesn't mean "instantly", you know…" BEN said gently, lowering their ears with a guilty smile.

Link frowned softly, keeping his distance from the elf. He couldn't draw his sword AND sign, after all, so he would have to make due. "You didn't specify. I've learned better than to provoke you."

BEN couldn't exactly blame his caution. It's why they were here, after all. "My bad. I'll be more specific next time. But I suppose it's neither here nor there now…"

"...is there something you want, BEN? " Link asked, clearly a bit anxious by being asked to meet.

"...a few things. I won't lie and say there isn't a favor I'd like to ask the both of you-"

"Like you have any right to ask Link for anything, at this point!" Tatl quickly interjected, turning red in anger. "You've terrorized us for no good reason, revealed truths we didn't need to know, and then just left us alone one day!"

"-BUT," BEN continued, "that isn't my main reason for being here. First and foremost... You're long overdue for an apology from me."

Link and Tatl looked at each other in confusion. "...pardon? " Link questioned.

"...I've been doing a lot of thinking and self reflecting lately. Especially because I finally have reason to want to improve myself. And I think I've gotten pretty far in trying to right the wrongs of my past, and try to change as a person. But I still never gave the both of you a proper apology, or even an explanation for how I treated you…" BEN sheepishly said.

Link looked down at the seated person, absolutely dumbfounded. All the times he had been attacked by BEN came instantly into his mind, only to not even be able to so much as scratch them in return, even the might of a Goron doing nothing to them. All the times he had been followed and told he was insignificant, worthless, a joke of a hero, told he was nothing more than a bland, boring conduit for the player of a game in a world far grander than his own. Only for BEN to just... Disappear one day. Gone. Vanish into thin air, and only return occasionally, seemingly at their leisure. Something... Didn't add up to him, and he wasn't sure what on Earth made them suddenly stop tormenting him, and now want to make things right.

"...I'll hear you out, at least," Link finally said, stepping forward to sit next to him. If nothing else, were he going to harm Link, BEN would have done it by now.

"Not that it makes us all hunky-dory yet," Tatl offered, settling on Link's shoulder.

BEN smiled softly, letting out a relieved breath. They stayed quiet for a moment, deciding their words carefully. "I'm not... Sure where to start. So much has happened to me. I guess I should start when we first met. When I first entered this game. It was my favorite game, and with me when I died," they started.

Tatl interrupted, jingling softly. "...when you died?"

BEN nodded softly. "When I died. I was just about your age, Link, about 12. More specifically, when I was murdered. Father simply... Got tired of me, I suppose. He tricked my religion's leader- we refer to him as The Father- into thinking it was my time to Ascend when it wasn't. The whole explanation of my belief system isn't important in this, just that I was robbed of something very important and sacred to me because of it."

"That sounds horrible," Link signed.

"It was... And I was only 12, and not the greatest at understanding or expressing my emotions... I was so angry, absolutely furious at losing that chance, as what had been done to me. I've always had a strong sense of justice, if you can believe it. I don't easily stand for people wronging me. But when I died, my spirit was trapped in this game. All that rage bottled up, with nowhere to release it... Until I started releasing it on you. Very unfairly."

"I'll say," Tatl said, though there wasn't much bite behind her words.

"Eventually, someone played the game, and I was able to break free, find someone else to torment. And after that, start lashing out at everyone who had hurt me, making them

PĄŸ,"

BEN continued, their voice glitching out just a bit at the final word.

"...i moved on to more innocent people after that. I was out of control. To the point where my goddess, Luna, intervened. She stopped me herself, gave me a new body, made me into a young adult so I wouldn't be trapped as a child forever, and I carry the souls of everyone I hurt in my blind sadism, until I join her again one day. And I've worked hard to be a better person now. I've found so much to make my life wonderful, and to make the most of my second chance…" BEN trailed off.

"...but you still want to make amends to everyone you've hurt," Link finished for them.

"...I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't think I can be forgiven. But I really AM sorry for how I treated you. Both of you. Of everyone I've lashed out at, you're the least deserving of it. No matter WHAT'S happened to me, it's NO excuse for how much I've hurt you. And even if you never forgive me, I would love the opportunity to make it up to you…" they finished softly.

"...would you excuse us for a moment?" Tatl asked, flying a slight distance away. Link glanced over at BEN before rising to his feet to follow, and speak with the fairy alone. BEN politely stayed looking forward, allowing them the privacy.

"...do you believe them?" Tatl asked.

"...yeah. They seem genuine," Link admitted.

Tatl nodded softly. "I do, too. There's much simpler ways to trick us or convince us if that was their intention. Even if they said they wanted a favor, this is a lot of lengths to go to for just that…"

"I wonder what they want," the hero mused, glancing over at BEN.

"...maybe ask? Perhaps you can also ask a favor of him, test his sincerity," she said.

"What would that be? " he asked.

"Well, you've said you're curious about his world, whatever it is that our entire world is only a game in, a small part of. Maybe you can ask to explore his world. It'd give you the opportunity to spend more time with him and let him earn your trust, anyway," she offered.

Link nodded softly, then whistled to get BEN's attention. "Alright, BEN, we've talked it over. First, I want to know what favor it is you want…"

"Actually, it's a favor specifically from Tatl," they explained.

"Wait, me?" she questioned.

"...my daughter has watched me play this game a lot. And she's absolutely fallen in LOVE with you, she ADORES seeing you on screen. Her first birthday is in a few months, and there's... Circumstances about my life, and now hers, that will make her very different from other children, with so many secrets to keep. She could really use having a companion by her side, a friend to offer wisdom and company and help when she needs it. A copy of you, like how I copied Epona, to watch over her and make her feel less alone…" BEN said.

"...you have a daughter?" Link asked.

"And a boyfriend. Soon to be husband," BEN explained, holding up their hand to show off their ring.

Tatl let out a soft chime at this. "Well... I'm certainly flattered you think I'd make a good companion to her…"

BEN smiled softly. "I don't expect an answer today, don't worry. There's still a few months before her birthday. And I understand if it's not something you're comfortable with…"

"...we have a proposal for you, in that case," Link began. "You want to make amends to us. We're admittedly curious about this world outside of our own. So, let us explore. Show us your life, and what lies outside this "game", and earn our trust. Then we'll consider it."

BEN thought this over. They'd have to be careful, but this wasn't impossible… "...I can't completely remove you from the game. I'd have to copy you, then merge the copy and your true self after. It's basically the same thing, though, you'd keep the memories and everything. And you'd have to do EXACTLY as I say, I... REALLY can't have attention drawn to myself or the people I live with. If there's something that catches your attention, you can't gawk, just stay calm and ask me. And there's going to be a LOT, the real world is nothing like this one. Hylian sign doesn't match up with any sign language in my world, so you'll at least be able to speak freely. But if you can do that, and trust that I'm keeping us both safe when I tell you to do something... I'll happily show you around."

Link considers this, then nods. He holds out his hand to BEN, who shakes it.

"Then we have a deal."

[mollymauk-teafleak]

sweetheart, you look a little tired

Huge thanks to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian for being such lovely betas!

---

Peter Nureyev is in disguise once again, this time at a high end brothel. he has a clear goal, a clear head and voices haunting him from his past.

Until he meets his first client, Juno Steel.

---

Please reblog and let me know what you think in the tags or leave a comment on this fic over at Ao3!

---

Disguises were Peter Nureyev’s specialty. He didn’t like to think what a psychologist would say if they got their hands on that.

But he was something of a genius at them and, like all things he was unbelievably good at, he enjoyed doing it. He’d forged new faces out of wildly expensive materials only found on one planet in the entire known galaxy, he’d made them out of cheap stage paints and shoplifted supermarket make up. He’d spent close to a year making some of his most used, most dependable costumes and some he’d made in the handful of seconds he’d had between a door starting to open and the security guard behind it seeing him somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be.

Nureyev had been counts and cardsharps, he’d been street urchins and fantastically rich multibillionaires, he’d been priests and strippers, he’d been ghosts and shadows and monsters right out of folklore, he’d been someone so painfully normal that you wouldn’t look once, let alone twice. He’d been everything under the sun, apart from himself.

And now he had a rather unusual challenge. Now he had to make a disguise out of absolutely nothing.

The five minute call was coming down the corridor, hollered by an assistant with a clipboard who looked like they’d completely transcended the concept of ‘stressed’ and was now utterly untouchable. As they walked by, they remembered Nureyev was new here and said it again, for his benefit, reminding him that ‘five minutes till showtime’ meant he needed to be dressed and in the bar area by the time the brothel opened.

Nureyev nodded, wearing the face of an anxious young man who was realising he’d maybe bitten off more than he could chew with this job.

It must have worked because the assistant’s expression of self preserving numbness shifted into something like sympathy, “It’s a weeknight, man, no one’s gonna be picking a new face.  Just sit there, look pretty and keep your eyes open.”

The moment of unexpected kindness, from someone who clearly didn’t need to give any amount of their time to comfort someone like him but had anyway, in their own rough manner, Nureyev could remember a time when that would have thrown him. When it would have filled him with guilt at what he was here to do, regret that he’d lied with every breath since he’d arrived, wonder what might happen if he didn't have to have that disconnect between himself and everyone he met.

Nureyev could remember. And he could recognise how far he’d come since then.

The five minute call continued, bellowed further down the hall, bringing a flurry of activity in its wake. Nureyev could hear silk whispering over skin and heels clicking on the floor outside the doorway, giggles traded between his coworkers for the evening who knew each other better, light arguments break out over who’s turn it was to wear a certain sapphire necklace as if such extravagance could be traded and bantered over so playfully. But of course it could, even the tiny dressing room Nureyev had been given as the newest member of the brothel had a chest overflowing with jewels and a closet bursting with silks, any one of which would have kept him fed, clothed and safe for a year when he was a child.

The luxury of this place was staggering in a hundred little ways like that. It was a fine establishment, loudly and proudly touted as the best in Hyperion City. Nureyev had to knit together a sparkling resume at four other, lesser brothels to be even given an interview for the recently opened position. His charm had carried him the rest of the way, as if often did. First rule of thieving, always make sure your greatest asset is something that can’t be taken away from you.

There was a huge bar area downstairs with a stage and, upstairs, fifty rooms, some elaborately and cringe-inducingly themed to your more standard fetishes. Others were simply beautiful spaces for the workers to take their clients, filled with flowers genetically modified to never wilt or curl or lose their scent, soft furnishings with gold accents and dramatic hangings, beaded curtains and diffusers and immense marble bathtubs. And of course beds of every sort, small and soft and intimate or expansive and lush and built for as many partners as you were willing to pay for.

And these clients were willing to pay. Being the best and most lavish brothel, it drew the best and most lavish customers. When a high ranking politician or stream star or oligarch wanted to indulge in some fun away from polite society, though the line was getting increasingly blurred, they came here. They came to The Fly-By Night.

And it stood to reason that the best customers would draw the best thieves.

Nureyev wasn’t here to rob anyone, not outright. If that was his only goal, he would just fill the pockets of the see through robe he wore over shorts that were barely there, he’d stuff them with the jewels and expensive aphrodisiacs left around this place like decorative potpourri and leave by the nearest window. No, he was here for something else. He was here for information. First rule of thieving, the most valuable items are never what is in plain sight.

So Nureyev had no intention at all of going down to the bar area to lounge and look pretty and flirt with the bar patrons who either hadn’t made an appointment or couldn’t afford one but could afford the ridiculous drinks prices. He’d nodded earnestly all through the floor manager’s careful instructions on what to do and how to present himself, letting his facial muscles do the work while knowing all the while that he would be here for a handful of hours, no more. The hard part had been getting through the door, earning the freedom to move through the building that only an employee would be afforded. Sure, posing as a client would have been simpler in execution but Nureyev had never been afraid of over preparing.

First rule of thieving, take the safest route, never just the easiest.

Nureyev set his jaw and finished smudging gold eyeshadow over one eyelid. He wondered when he would stop hearing that voice in his head. He always told himself one more job, one more planet, and the distance would be great enough that it would fade into nothing. Something less than a memory even. He’d forget the face that had ever been attached to that voice, he’d stop feeling the ghostly stickiness on his palms that came with those whispers.

Next time, perhaps.

He left Peter Nureyev in the dressing room and emerged as Freyr Zirconia, a ridiculous name to walk down the street with but perfect to wear as a sex worker in glossy, completely transparent samite. He made his smile a little false around the edges, clearly hiding nervousness, someone who knew their trade but hadn’t quite settled into their environment yet. He chose accessories that were far from the finest on offer, making him look low in the pecking order, hesitant to appear flashy or perhaps he just didn’t know where the good stuff was kept and was too shy to ask. Rather galling to Nureyev, who knew he’d look exquisite in the thick rope of black pearls he’d passed over.

Maybe he would find himself back in the dressing room before his exit, snagging them as a present for himself. Maybe. If he did well.

There was already a pleasant buzz of conversation and soft music audible from halfway down the stairs, all emanating from the bar area. It hadn’t been hard to feign Freyr’s impressed expression when he’d been given his tour of the brothel after his successful interview. The bar was done in a classic style you didn’t see often in the bigger planets further out in the solar system. It was all leather and oak panelling, faux of course because the trees necessary had gone extinct a century ago but the imitation was flawless. The lights were low and richly golden, encased in red coloured glass in some areas so certain booths and alcoves would be awash in a red you could practically taste, giving the impression that whoever sat inside it was in their own little world. And to help them get there, behind the bar was what looked like every alcoholic drink in the known galaxy, wildly expensive wines from Earth, flavoured vodkas from Saturn, heady rums from Jupiter, even liqueurs brewed only on the furthest outer rim planets.

Freyr almost wished he could be part of it. It would be nice to be bought extravagant drinks, to have people fawn over him, to have rich men smile at him and feel like they owned him for an hour. There were things a man who was not Freyr had been neglecting recently, pleasures beyond those that could be found in a brilliantly planned and flawlessly executed job. Simpler pleasures of lips and hands and sweat that wasn’t yours drying on your skin.

But Freyr could wish all he liked. A man who wasn’t Freyr had an elusive mark to locate the personal phone number of.

He’d memorised the floor plan at his interview and confirmed it for himself with some illegally acquired schematics. First rule of thieving, always double check. The administration office was in the basement so the acrid numbers and figures didn’t shatter the fantasy, meaning the easiest way to get to it was to cut across just one corner of the bar. He couldn’t exactly go around the outside of the building, dressed as he was. It was raining, after all.

It wouldn’t take a minute, just a handful of steps. And it wasn’t like he was noticeable, Freyr was just one of several nymph-like visions in samite and jewels and barely there underwear. The Fly By Nights became like celebrities of Hyperion’s underworld, their faces and names well known and often requested, their specific skills practically famous. The older hands had cultivated reputations that filled their schedules for months, sometimes half a year in advance. Someone new and unestablished like Freyr was unlikely to be chosen in the twenty paces it would take to get him to his goal. He almost felt lazy with how easy this would be.

Just in case anyone was watching, he took a moment before he walked into the bar, making sure his robe was lying just right across his chest, patting the seemingly effortless swoop of his dark hair, rubbing in the glitter on his chest to smooth it out better. Freyr would be nervous, eager to make a good impression, hungry to prove himself, a heady mix of emotions that the other man could understand on some level and didn’t need to work too hard to paint over his delicate, expertly made up features. A deep breath. Straighten the spine. Go to work.

Almost immediately Freyr was enveloped in the smells of dozens of different but somehow complimentary perfumes, the rhythmic clink of glasses and pouring drinks, light music played on simple instruments, a rich glow of light and luxury. Even the sharp sweat tang of the hungry clients coming in through the doors couldn’t ruin it. He put a sway in his hips, dropped the lids of his eyes just a little, leaned into it all. Twenty paces, that was all, so why not enjoy them?

There were conversations happening all around him, it was a bundle of coloured threads in a hopeless knot. But the man who wasn’t Freyr simply couldn’t help himself sometimes and began to listen to the snippets he walked through, just out of interest. First rule of thieving, after all, always keep your ears open, you never know when you might hear something that saves you later. It was mostly innocuous parlour talk, too early in the evening after all for tongues to be truly loosened. The workers pressed drinks on their clients, laughed and cooed at their bad attempts at flirting, old friends greeted each other, some light gossip was traded that Freyr already knew and didn’t concern him anyway. Nothing to snag his interest as another part of his mind counted down the steps left.

Until he skirted closer to the bar itself.

There was no reason why the voice should have stood out to him the way it did. It wasn’t even saying anything of interest, just one of many unfamiliar voices that didn’t relate to Freyr’s goal whatsoever, talking of nothing. But this one grabbed him, yanking him off his train of thought, spilling his focus on the floor like so many marbles.

“Yeah, I meant what I said,” the voice was harsh, snappish but it was like a thin crust over something deeper, “The full bottle, I have the creds and I’m damn well thirsty enough.”

It wasn’t hard to find the owner of the voice, there was only one person it could be. He looked as rough and worn down as his voice had sounded, clearly sober but not intending to stay that way with how determinedly he was gripping the edge of the counter, slumped into an aged trench coat shiny with wear and the rain from outside. It was in his hair too, droplets that now looked like diamonds under the bar lights. His jaw was strong and covered in the stubble of someone a good week into a string of bad decisions, his eyes hooded and bloodshot to match. His hands were covered in scars that could only come from the kickback of a blaster. Soldier? Too young. Bodyguard? Too wayn. Cop? Perhaps but whatever he was, he was clearly an ex.

First rule of thieving, observe. Always observe. Unless it’s a pretty boy, in which case, tear your eyes away Pete and focus, god damn it.

Freyr swallowed hard and stopped, sixteen paces in, trying to sink deeper into being someone who didn’t know that voice. That voice, light and joking and jolly but now he could name the undercurrent that he’d always sensed but never pinned down until after. Until after…

He took a breath. Clearly he was not in the right frame of mind. Clearly if he went into that administration office now he would make a foolish mistake. First rule of thieving, timing is everything, yes? So deviate, improvise, circle back around with your head on straight.

And until then, play the game.

“That looks like a two man job,” he reached out and snagged the rather large bottle of high end whiskey the bartender had reluctantly set in front of the tired eyed ex-probably cop.

Freyr could see the decision whether or not to throw a punch cross the guy’s scarred face. Fortunately he came down on the side of non hostile resignation.

“Lady,'' he corrected, not arguing when Freyr reached over the bar and collected two crystal tumblrs, puring each half full with amber liquid that smelled of woodsmoke and expense, “Sorry, you’re gorgeous and all but you’re out of my price range. I’m just here to drink.”

“And drinking is all I spoke of, madam,” Freyr smiled sweetly, holding up his glass expectantly, “But I thank you for the compliment.”

After a pause, his stranger knocked his glass against his own and drank just a swallow. Freyr copied.

“You don’t have to pay to ask my name.”

That got a rough smile, not quite a true one but close, “Then what’s your name, handsome?”

“Freyr. Yours, handsome?”

Now a laugh, amber warm as the liquor they were drinking, “Juno Steel.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face,” that made him laugh again but there were patches of colour on his dark cheeks that didn’t have anything to do with the fine, mellow burn of the whiskey, “Can I ask, Juno Steel, why a lady with no money for a sex worker is sat in a brothel?”

Juno didn’t seem to know how to answer that, doing an awkward kind of one shouldered shrug, “It’s raining outside. The door was open. There’s alcohol.”

A simple formula for someone who didn’t have anywhere else to go. Freyr was good at his job, he knew how to read people and shift his gaze to bring into focus the words behind what they actually said. And Juno Steel wasn’t a hard lady to read. Grief and loneliness etched themselves on a person’s face in a way few other things did, leaving traces that were clear as words on a screen, especially if you were already familiar with them. Especially if you knew them from the mirror.

First rule of thieving, get back on the job, you useless, twitterpated young fool. First rule of thieving, you know better than this.

Behind Freyr’s face, the man who wasn’t Freyr set his jaw. He was sick of that voice. He was sick of still following it’s commands, sitting up to the snap of it’s fingers like a well trained dog. Hadn’t he proven that he didn’t need it? First rule of thieving, he’d do what he damn well pleased.

And right now, what he wanted to do was Juno Steel. He looked like he could use it.

Freyr leaned forward, knowing the light would be making his dark eyes glitter, “And there’s me.”

Juno smiled wryly, not moving back to reopen the distance between them, “Yeah. That part was a nice surprise.”

“Listen, Juno. I don’t need to know why you're here or why you have that brokenhearted look in your eyes you’re doing a rather poor job of concealing. I’d just like to try and do something about it. How does that sound?”

Juno caught his lower lip in his teeth, want flashing in his eyes like a distress signal on a ship lost in deepest space, “I...I don’t…”

“I know,” Freyr leant in a little more, until he couldn’t tell whose breath the smell of whiskey was coming from, “But, I’ll be honest, this is my first day. I have no appointments. So why don’t we call this...a practise run? Ex gratia on both our parts.”

Juno’s eyebrow lifted, “Can you do that?”

“Of course.” What did it matter when Freyr wouldn’t exist in a day’s time?

There was still some hesitation, something still lingering in his expression. Freyr wondered what had happened to this lady the last time someone had reached out to him, promising something for nothing. And then he remembered he didn’t care.

“Why me?” Juno eventually asked, his brow creasing with uncertainty.

Freyr smiled softly, showing where he’d smudged a little lipstick on his front tooth, almost as if it had been deliberately placed there to show his nervousness on his first day.

“Why not you, Juno Steel?”

It was quiet upstairs, too early in the evening for any appointments to have moved past the initial flirting in the bar stage. Freyr had the night’s schedule memorised, he knew which rooms would be free and would stay free for however long this wonderfully bad decision would take, he knew where he was going as he pulled Juno along.

There was a giddy lightness in his chest, a pounding exhilaration going through his veins. Freyr had a lifespan of three days, he’d never had the chance to be a reckless teenager, going against the path that had been laid out for him. The man he wasn’t had never experienced it either, for different reasons. But this is exactly how they’d both imagined it, how it had always looked in the streams and in stories. This was exactly what the fantasy had promised.

Both of them were giggling like they couldn’t help it, throwing wild grins back and forth, drunk on each other and a handful of swallows from the whiskey bottle now swinging in Juno’s lazy grip. By the time they reached one of the more modest rooms where they were minimally likely to be disturbed, Freyr was wearing Juno’s overcoat, Juno had marks of Freyr’s lipstick across his cheek and was gripping his narrow hips, whispering filth into his ear to make him fumble with the keys.

Freyr retaliated by turning and bending to kiss him full on the lips, the first time they’d done that since leaving the warmth of the bar for this new, uncharted dimness. Juno was shorter than he’d expected, he had to guide his jaw up a little after a moment to press their mouths together more fully. But it was a sweet kiss, all the same. Juno seemed to think so too, from how he shakily exhaled into Freyr’s mouth in a way that sounded almost relieved.

Once inside, Freyr didn’t need to do much to undress himself, letting the coat still heavy with rain and warm from Juno’s skin fall to the floor. His partner proved a little more hesitant, hands shaking as they went to the hem of his turtleneck. If Freyr had thought the tremors were anything but the aftershocks of something in the past, he would have called time then and there. But as it was, he took Juno’s large, scarred hands under his own and guided them, supporting them as the layer of damp wool and black trousers came away, showing dark hair, dark skin, more scars.

Freyr was new to The Fly By Night but he’d been in this trade a while. He knew how to make the right noises and pull the right faces, he knew how to give the clients what they paid for, no matter what was under their clothes. If there had been anything about Juno that disappointed, it wouldn’t have shown on his face.

But there was nothing to be done about the awe that softened his features when he saw all of Juno, wearing only the soft light from the window. There was no way to mask the quiet inhalation, the way his pupils flooded open, the way his hips tilted unconsciously forward. Showing too much was as dangerous as showing not enough and, in that moment, all of Freyr’s professionalism went out of the window.

But Juno didn’t seem to know any better, only blushing and giving a destroying self conscious smile. Perhaps it wasn’t just Freyr who was new to this.

“Can we just…” Juno gestured to the bed, a luxurious affair with black sheets that looked soft as butter and ready to sink into completely.

Freyr smiled indulgently and nodded, “Go make yourself comfortable, handsome.”

He told himself he didn’t care why Juno would find it so difficult to hear the words about to fall from his tongue. First rule of whatever the hell this is, we don’t care, we don’t think, we just act.

It did him good to see Juno sprawl out across the bed, to see his muscles unwind and his expression loosen at the softness, to see him let go of the weight of himself.

“What can I do for you?” his voice was honey, eyes hungrily roving over all of it, the limbs with their wiry strength, the old scars, the comforting softness of his gut, the lines of thick, dense body hair he wanted to follow and see where they led.

Juno’s gaze was suddenly quietly desperate, “Fuck me. Fuck me until I forget everything outisde this room.”

First rule of fucking Juno Steel, don’t ask.

Freyr nodded, scrambling to equip himself appropriately, suddenly feeling a mad fear that it would all be different if he looked away for too long. Each of the rooms had the basics of what two individuals, or even more than two, might need. Other things could be requested in advance, some other things that Freyr had to admit he was curious about were too large or elaborate to be moved from behind the stage. Perhaps now he’d still be around to catch one of the nightly shows and see for himself.

His hands were practised at straps, buckles and knots, it was nothing more than a few moments before he wore a rather beautiful black leather harness with gold metal accents, a middle of the road sized cock comfortably pressed against his own. Freyr wouldn’t like to assume, after all.

He turned to see Juno had watched the whole thing, now practically salivating, on his back with a hand between his legs, stroking himself into hardness.

“A little rude to start without me,” Freyr grinned teasingly, putting a hand on his hip.

“Then get over here,” Juno’s voice was already thin and gasping.

Freyr did just as he was told, snagging a bottle of lube as he passed, tumbling gladly into the bed. Juno rose to catch him, kissing him eagerly, now unhurried and lazy seeing as they’d reached their destination. If he wondered why Freyr’s hands could still deftly open the bottle and soak their fingers, all while the rest of him was devotedly kissing him, licking into his mouth, sucking marks on his neck while he gasped for breath, then Juno didn’t voice it.

There was some force in his hands as he yanked Juno’s legs apart, like a pouncing cat with prey suddenly deciding to stop playing and make an end of it. Juno let out a ragged gasp, clearly into it. His eyes fixed on Freyr’s as he sank two long, clever fingers into him, the first breach of his body. Neither could make a sound.

They’d neglected to turn any lights on as they’d staggered in so the colours of the room shifted and melted through half a hundred shades as, outside and unnoticed by either of them, the late evening melted into dusk, into night. As he opened him up and carved a space for himself inside the other body, Freyr saw Juno Steel as a gold bathed god, as a drowned sailor glimpsed through the surface of an indigo lake, as a constellation mapped out in dark stars. And always as a person, just another person he was sharing a bed with, who was starting to gasp and moan and whimper, eyes never leaving his face.

“Ready for me?” Freyr whispered, realising he’d been doing nothing but fingering him lazily for a good long while.

Juno nodded, voice raspy, “God, yeah.”

The sheets whispered underneath them as Freyr drew back from between his legs, now settling his hands on either side of Juno’s face. They didn’t stay there for long, as soon as Freyr started to move into him, slowly at first, Juno bit his lip and tipped his head back in such an expression of pained bliss that there was nothing for Freyr to do but hold his face gently. As he began to speed up, moving deeper and with more momentum, Juno took Freyr’s thumb in his mouth and sucked and in that moment, Freyr could have died happy.

It didn’t take long, they were both already halfway there. But it could have taken a year and it would have felt too soon, before the gasps and cries that were now indistinguishable grew to a peak, before there was a strangled cry, the thump of a headboard against the wall, a rise in their bodies into a perfect arch and it was done.

When Nureyev came, he gasped out Juno Steel.

There was something delicate about the seconds after, something shy and awkward as Freyr pulled out, as Juno winced at the stickiness on his stomach, as the bedsprings creaked, as they mumbled vague apologies while Freyr settled on his back so they now lay side by side, both staring up at the ceiling.

Juno was the first to clear his throat, clearly not a fan of awkward silences, “So...thank you. I mean, that was...I needed that.”

“I could tell,” Freyr’s voice was weak as he caught his breath. He hadn’t realised just how long it had been since the man he wasn’t had done that. His heart was hammering in his chest like a caged hummingbird.

Juno turned, sitting up on one elbow. In the dark, his expression was unreadable.

“Um...if I came back another night, could I...could I ask for you? I’d pay, I know this time was, y’know, a gimme.”

Freyr froze. Another night, he wouldn’t exist. Another night, he would be off somewhere with a new face and a new name, he’d be someone who had never heard of Juno Steel. Another night, Mars would be a collection of trivia the man he wasn’t had collected and collated and filed away for any future jobs.

First rule of thieving, stick to the plan. First rule of thieving, make no promises. First rule of thieving, no distractions.

First rule of thieving, just keep going, keep running, keep working and then...and then…

Nureyev turned to Juno and smiled, reaching out and stroking his cheek softly, “For you, Juno Steel? I’ll stick around.”

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapters 233 & 234 - creepy candymen and a sexy pirate

Chapter 233 picks up with Asirpa, Sugimoto, Shiraishi [and Vasily] in search of Boutarou the pirate and following up on the lead about a tattooed candy peddler.  The cover page for this chapter is unrelated to the action and instead has Sugimoto and Shiraishi admiring the spring wild flowers.  Therefore, it is now at least a year since the start of the quest for the gold.

My read on this is it is a call back to “simpler” times in the quest for the gold.  Before they found Wilk, before Kiro was killed and all of the action on Karafuto.

The chapter starts out with Sugimoto trying to develop a plan for finding Boutarou as he asks Shiraishi what he knew about him.  Shiraishi makes it quite clear that hiding as a candy seller pretty much goes counter to the pirate’s mode of action and likely if there is a convict selling candy, he’s someone that Shiraishi never knew or saw.

Sugimoto as usual thinking he’s a great natural leader decides to investigate the candy sellers with an ill formed plan as usual.  He approaches the puppet man with the octopus and flat out tells him, he’ll buy some candy from him but that he needs the man to take his clothes off for him.  This plan clearly backfires as the man questions his motive and he becomes more upset as he states that even if Sugimoto just paid him to see his nipples, that he’s not that cheap!  Asirpa simply looks perplexed at the man’s response, it seems he may have an actual history of being paid for such acts in the past as he’s making it clear his nipples are worth much more than candy.  I’d say this is a hint that these men may be linked to less legal activities.  If he were just a candy seller he wouldn’t have stated such things, he would have just likely ignored Sugimoto’s request.

In contrast, Shiraishi is much smater about things as he tosses some water on the other candy seller and makes it clear that he’d have to change out of his wet clothing - something Shiraishi has numerous experiences with.

However, he gets an elbow to the face and the two men decide they are business rivals and they chase them off.

For reasons 100% unclear to me, somehow Shiraishi is hiding in a storm drain/sewer and is able to get more intel as though he were the creepy clown from Stephen King’s “It”.  I’m not a fan of King so I really don’t get it . . .

But he is able to ask a kid for information about the candy seller with weird tattoos.

Interestingly, the next time they approach a potential target, Shiraishi takes the lead, as he asks the man if he’d sell him some candy.  He shows Shiraishi his creepy pop-up puppet, saying that it would be the candy.  Then Shiraishi finally asks him straight up that he’s got some strange tattoos.

The man hesitates before Sugimoto then inquires about them and wanting to see them.  He then reveals his face smiling.  His eyes are very interesting as well.  He’s got black pupil/irises but with a vertical white streak through the center.  What on earth does this even mean about his inner personality?

Thanks the the through translation notes at the end of the chapter by EHS scans, it was determined that his tattoos come from all parts of Japan, he has an obvious Ainu tattoo on his chin, but he has some from as far away as Okinawa, and others from various parts of Honshu.  To me this indicates that he has traveled far and wide though Japan.  Is he fleeing from various places where he was convicted of crimes and tattooed in each location? 

Yet, he quickly confirms that he did them all to himself.  I honestly think he’s lying but then again, this is GK, he may have done them to himself.  Shiraishi is clearly nervous in response to that statement as he has a past history with the system of punishment in Japan.

What’s better is how absolutely disgusted and disappointed Sugimoto is, he can’t even look at the man in the face when he concludes it is a huge waste of their time.  The two panels with the man looking quizzical and then shifting to a smile indicates he likely knows that they are looking for.

No one makes a smile like that unless they’ve realized something.  What I’m also curious about is what happened to the kid he led off into the woods in the previous chapter. It was like “watch this man do something creepy and then not resolve it.”  Thanks Noda.

The man breaks into a fit of laughter when it is so obvious he wasn’t what Sugimoto was looking for.  They almost politely leave him and they update us that their river searches haven’t yielded anything.  The Toppu river and the Sorachi river haven’t given them any new info so they ponder going to the Saru river.  Sugimoto considers changing their search to Sapporo for the current serial killer a good candidate and Shiraishi considers that might be a good idea. 

As they are discussing this Asirpa is hanging back, I guess she really doesn’t care about them making plans without her input, but it reveals an interesting aside as she over hears the man talking to himself.  That boss Wakayama had a great facial expression when he was disappointed as well.  Asirpa then makes the connection that if Wakayama was his boss he was a part of his yakuza gang.

Unfortunately, some train cars with coal roll by separating them.  His voice then calls out from a train car as he declares that they will never be able to find the gold.  Thus he knew exactly what type of tattoo they are looking for. 

Asirpa calls out to Sugimoto to find him, but they are unable to find him in the rail yard near the coal mines.  All we know now is that this tattooed candy seller was one of the men working for Boss and that he is more in the know than he appears. I’m sure he will pop up again in the future.

The action then shifts to an Ainu kotan near the Toppu river.  Sure enough the pirate is doing his own information gathering following up the leads that Heita found.  He is trying to pay off an older Ainu man with rice.  He’s already given 3 bales of rice and it is clear than he’s ordering his man to bring another 3 bales.

He is quite direct, he states that he knows that the man knows about the buried gold and that his brother was one of the people involved, specifically he was one of the men who was killed.  He is able to confirm that the gold was moved after his older brother was killed and he likely won’t find anything there.

So Boutarou has to grease the wheels so to speak by revealing how much information he knows.  He confirms that he’s fine with the fact that the gold likely isn’t there anymore, he still wants to know the location.  His assistant seems to doubt talking to the man due to his reluctance. 

He’s being quite clever as he has not revealed what he knows about the gold.  He is able to ask the man to confirm information that he already knows to give him the next place to start looking for the gold.  And of course the Ainu elder confirms what he already knew - the four rivers that the gold came from

With the confirmation he is looking for the place where it was stored so that he could trace where it was moved to and narrow down the location to search.

Overall, Boutarou is an interesting character, we know he has a violent history yet, when it comes to looking for information he is paying for it and being relatively chill about things, he clearly doesn’t have a thing for unnecessary violence.

Chapter 234 has a color cover, featuring Sugimoto and Asirpa, and the name of the chapter is steamboat likely a key to how they will travel to their next destination.

The chapter starts off with Shiraishi again developing a plan for them to get to Sapporo to look for the other possible convict.  He suggests they take a steamboat to Ebetsu which is the most efficient way to currently travel.  If they continue by horse along the roads it will be muddy and slow due to the thawing out of things.  As we know he was in Kabato prison, he also knows that convicts were used for labor to clean up the river.

The idea was that a steamboat/paddle boat can travel on a shallow river much more easily than a propeller driven boat.  This leads to a nice 2 page spread of the paddle boat and Asirpa seems happy and excited to be on the boat.

cue some sort of Mark Twain reference here . . . . Asirpa then expresses concern that Vasily; hood guy in the english translation, hoodie-chan via Shiraishi in the original, is hanging back with their horses instead of riding on the main boat.  Of course Vasily is still in full sniper mode, he’s keeping an eye on things from afar with his binoculars.

Sugimoto then states he’s likely hanging back as he is waiting for Ogata to show up.  Specifically, Ogata is after Asirpa and then he realizes if that is the case, Vasily is using Asirpa as the bait to draw out Ogata. 

Wow, just wow.  Sugimoto - projecting much?  He seems to have forgotten how Vasily already used Shiraishi as bait for Ogata once before when they were in Karafuto and now he’s disgusted by such behavior.  Again, he is making the assumption that Ogata will stop at nothing to steal Asirpa when his attempt to get Asirpa to give him the code failed and then Ogata pretty much wanted Asirpa to kill him.

Really, Sugimoto’s read of Ogata is so flawed that well, I don’t get why Asirpa and Shiraishi haven’t said something about what they learned on Karafuto more.

Of course, they don’t have a simple journey as the pirate spend all of his stolen loot on paying off the Ainu man. So he’s going to rob the postal deliveries from the steamboat.  There is even a postal deliveryman who is protecting money that is being sent via registered mail, making him an easy target.

The steamboat captain manages to hit one of the boats as he won’t go down without a fight.  Of course the pirate has to live up to his name.  He swims under the ship, and pops out like a dolphin on the opposite side.  To use his revolver, he blows all of the water out of if before cocking it for use as he holds up the ship’s captain.

These panels really highlight that this man is a sexy badass.  Of course Shiraishi and Sugimoto have rushed to the deck to check out the action when he recognizes Boutarou and he recognizes Shiraishi!  He seems amused and excited to see Shiraishi, and the crew members are wondering what is happening as the captain decides that they must be working with the pirate.

So, definitely a poor choice of action by both Shiraishi and Sugimoto.  Thankfully, Asirpa was asleep on their traveling bags so hopefully she is still asleep.

As with this Sugimoto becomes an accidental accomplice to the pirate.  As the one man goes to grab his rifle he notices Boutarou prepare to shoot the man. So he realizes he has no choice but to remove the security men from the crew by tossing them off of the boat.

Thus, Sugimoto becomes a tool for the pirate as he saves the men from being shot by tossing them off the boat.  In the action as he judo tosses the men over board he drops his rifle.  The rifle falls outside of the passenger cabin and how Sugimoto is without the use of his rifle.

Now Sugimoto lacks his rifle and there is no Ogata to scold him.  I think back to when Ogata retrieved his rifle for him.  This will come into play in the future action as now all Sugimoto has is his loved and trusted bayonet.

Recall that during the silent kotan arc, Sugimoto placed his rifle against the wall of the house while Ogata clearly kept his rifle within reach.  When the fake Ainu were exposed, one of the yakuza dove to grab Sugimoto’s rifle and Ogata shot him square in the back.

After shooting him, Ogata quickly is able to grab the rifle and then he feels the need to teach Sugimoto a lesson.  As he throws the rifle to him, he warns him, “never take your eyes off your weapon, private first class.”  We only see Ogata’s eyes looking at him as the rest of his face is obscured and Sugimoto doesn’t even look back at Ogata as his eyes are shaded by his cap and the rest of his face is shaded.  It is clear that Sugimoto doesn’t like the fact that Ogata is right.

Later on when Anehata steals Tanigaki’s rifle, Ogata will remark that he keeps telling people to keep an eye on their rifles.  The Ogata lesson is simple - use your brain in potentially dangerous situations.  You have a rifle - it doesn’t mean someone else will use your rifle. 

Soooo, any predictions for what will happen due to Sugimoto lacking a rifle?  With no Ogata, will Vasily step in?  We will have to wait for the next chapter to find out.  The loss of Sugimoto’s rifle to me is like “cue Ogata” and in the absence of Ogata cue Vasily.

The chapter then ends with Boutarou commending Shiraishi on having such a great underling working for him.  Clearly, Boutarou respects Shiraishi and sees him to be a more intelligent than normal convict.  I don’t think this is a jest from him, he seems to be honestly impressed.

The excitement of this chapter is about to step it up a notch as the pirate gang notices another steamboat is heading upstream and opposite of them.  And that it has soldiers on it!  Perhaps members of the 27th under Tsurumi’s command?

I don’t have many deep thoughts on these two chapters.

It is clear that Shiraishi is a better planner than Sugimoto and their group needs someone to kick some sense into Sugimoto.

The candy seller with the face tattoos will come back. 

Vasily is not the Ogata replacement and he continues to be treated like an random dude by their group.  Sugimoto really doesn’t understand that embracing the enemy of my enemy is a poor idea when you can’t communicate with him.  Asirpa is again starting to think about including him in their group but is much more hesitant after Ogata’s meltdown on ice.  We still don’t know if she told anyone about that really happened and she really does need to talk about what happened.  I would guess Shiraishi knows more about what happened, but Sugimoto still doesn’t take him seriously all the time so it is a moot point.

Hopefully, we will get more interesting action in the next few chapters to see where things are going with the pirate.

[in-arlathan]

Born Wilder

Wow, writing this little something of a fic took way longer than I expected, but I got there in the end. I really needed to get this story out of my system to get my fanfiction mojo flowing again.

This one-shot features my Elenara Lavellan and her companions Varric, Cassandra and Solas in the Hinterlands. After writing Solavellan romance with no specific Lavellan, it’s was so nice to write with one of my OCs again.

Sadly, Elenara and Solas are far away from their relationship in this one, so no sappy romance here, but I enjoyed exploring her thoughts on the Inquisition and being a Dalish among humans before she became Inquisitor. Also, some friendly bonding with Varric at the end, which is always good. Happy reading! :)

Read it on AO3

––––

“So, Chuckles,” Varric said, “is it true you spend most of your time in the Fade?”

 “As much as is possible, yes,” Solas answered with a curious side-glance. “The Fade contains a wealth of knowledge for those who know where to look.”

The dwarf scoffed. “I don't know how you dream, let alone wander around in there. Especially when the shit that comes out of the Fade generally seems... pretty cranky.”

“So are humans, but we continue to interact with them…,” Solas replied with a smile tugging at his lips. “When we must.”

“Point taken,” Varric said.

Cassandra made a disgruntled face. “If you gentlemen are quite finished…”

“Come now, seeker…”

Elenara smiled, despite only half-listening to her companions. She was too busy keeping an eye out for rebel mages or rogue templars in the surrounding forest. It hadn’t been long since the party had stumbled in a battle between both sides and she was not keen to repeat that experience just yet.

They had spent the last week traversing the Hinterlands, running errands on behalf of the Inquisition. Every now and then, Solas or Cassandra urged her to call the retreat, get back to Haven and move on to Val Royeaux to speak to the remaining clerics of the Chantry. Elenara, on the other hand, didn’t want to rush the matter. She was rather happy to be out in the wilderness again, even as an envoy of the Inquisition. The rustling leaves and whispering wind reminded her of a time when everything had been much simpler. Before the sky had been torn apart.

If only she could remember what had happened at the conclave…

 Elenara squared her shoulders, wiping sweat from her brow with one hand. Dwelling on the matter was no use. Her memories wouldn’t return just because she wanted them to. The only choice she had was to focus on what was before her: the refugees that required her help. She had decided that their lives mattered more than her knowing what had transpired at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. And so she hurried through the Hinterlands, doing everything she could to make them feel safe and protected. As if somehow, through her own actions, she could feel safe and protected, too.

Her companions didn’t seem to take much liking to the remote wilderness, though. Varric used any chance he got to complain about the weather, the people, the food, and the lack of proper ale. Even Cassandra, who had been at odds with the dwarf since Elenara met her, seemed to agree with him, but she did not voice her contempt as loudly as he did. Only Solas kept quiet and dismissed any of her questions if he felt ill at ease. “What we accomplish here will one day serve us in our mission to seal the Breach,” he said. “That is more important than my personal comfort.” 

“We’re almost there,” Elenara said when they finally exited the woods and the friendly conversation between her companions came to an end. Looking around carefully, she felt a shiver crawl down her spine. Her gaze was fixed on a small hillside by Dwarfson’s Pass where they had set up camp the night before. It was not much, just a few bedrolls arranged around a campfire, plus a chest in which they had stored some of their supplies. Nothing of value or importance that would draw the attention of scavengers or bandits. And yet, Elenara couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Hurry,” she shouted and started into a run, racing up the hill with her senses on high alert. Behind her, she could hear Varric groan with exhaustion as he tried to keep up with Solas and Cassandra who followed Elenara with relative ease.

“Shit,” was all she said when their camp came into view.

The bedrolls lay scattered and had clearly been searched, and the chest with their supplies was missing. Whoever robbed than even took the bushels of elf root they had hung on a small rag to dry them before transport.

Cassandra, Solas, and Varric reached the camp shortly after, looking around in confusion. The dwarf swore under his breath, as he searched his bedroll. “Those bastards took my notes,” he exclaimed. “I stored them in a small compartment … ah, nevermind.”

“I’m sorry,” Elenara said and meant it.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Varric said with a handwave. “This should teach me not to leave my writing lying about while I run off to kill people.”

“Do any of you have any supplies with you?” Cassandra asked.

Solas checked his backpack, as well as the small bags on his belts. “Sadly, no,” he told the seeker. “I thought I had some bread left, but come to think of it, I must have placed it in the chest with the rest of our supplies.”

“I only have two bottles of dwarven ale from last night,” Varric added after a quick glance into his baggage. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Great!” Cassandra growled. “What a perfect mess. The sun is already setting. It’ll be dark before we have the chance to get to Winter Watch Tower to ask for help.”

“I guess you are correct,” Elenara admitted. “But we don’t need to get to the fortress to sustain ourselves.”

Varric raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you suggest, Lavellan? Lie in wait for some travelers to ask them for help?”

“Creators, no.” Elenara shook her head, slightly amused. “You really don’t spend much time out in the wilds, do you?”

“Not, if I can avoid it,” Varric said.

“Well, I’ll take care of this,” she announced and checked her quiver and bow. She had enough arrows left, and the rope in her backpack would come in handy when making snares. “I suggest you go and search for wood to make a fire with before it’s dark. I’ll be back in no time.”

With that, she turned on her heels and made her way down the hill again. The prospect of being alone in the woods – truly alone – made her feel giddy and foolish like a little girl. Keeper Deshanna wouldn’t have liked it.  

She was already half-way down the hill when behind her Solas asked. “Where are you going, lethallin?”

Elenara turned to smile at the apostate. “The wilderness contains a wealth of sustenance for those who know where to look,” she said and spread her arms wide.

***

She returned to the camp with two small nugs as her prey. The dead animals were dangling for a piece of rope she had used to tie them together. She hadn’t even needed her arrows to kill them. All she had done was laying out a few snares in the undergrowth and wait for the creatures to walk into her traps. For an experienced hunter like her, it had been an easy task, as simple as putting on clothes. Still, Cassandra and Varric eyed her suspiciously when she presented the animals to them.

“Our dinner,” she told them and dropped the nugs next to the fire.

Varric stared at her in disbelieve.

“That was remarkably quick,” Cassandra said, brows furrowed. “You’ve been away for what… three hours?”

Elenara made a vague gesture. “Give or take.”

She relieved herself of her backpack, quiver, and bow, and placed all of her belongings on her bedroll. Her companions had used her absence to rearrange the camp and get a decent fire burning. Solas was stoking the embers with a stick, making the flames grow higher while Elenara searched for her hunting knife.

“Nugs are fine and all,” Varric said, nibbling at one of the bottles of dwarven ale he'd carried around with him all day, “but how exactly are we going to eat them?”

Solas let out a soft laugh but didn’t dare look up from the dancing flames.

“Anything on your mind, Chuckles?” Varric growled.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” the apostate said, lips still pursed in a smile.

“Sure.”

Elenara found the hunting knife in her backpack and removed it from the leather sheath she stored it in. The steel blade reflected the light of the campfire as she turned it in her hand, marveling at its beauty. It had been a gift, given to her by her childhood friend Erendir when she had come of age. “It’ll serve you good, wherever you go,” he’d said.

She wondered where he was now. What he might think of her.

I will do everything within my power to keep you and the clan safe, she thought and turned her gaze to the sky. The Breach was only a faint shimmer in the darkness but she could feel it lingering on, waiting for her to return to Haven.

Focus on what is before you, she reminded herself, sat down cross-legged and freed one of the nugs from the rope. Without giving it much thought, she pierced through the skin of the animal with her blade and made a set of cuts. She stripped the skin from the nug with a quick  thrust  , and Varric made a disgusted sound.

“Andraste’s ass, Lavellan!” he exclaimed, leaning away from her with one hand raised as if he was trying to defend himself against an attacker. “Please tell me, you did not just do that!”

Elenara grinned. She liked Varric, but he had lived behind the walls of Kirkwall for far too long. With his fondness for city living, he could barely manage to endure a bit of rain without complaining. To shock him like this was mildly amusing to her, to say the least.

“Where did you think meat comes from, Varric?” Cassandra asked. When the dwarf didn’t answer, the seeker turned her eyes back to the nug and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Though, I do admit it looks more… invasive than I expected."

“You'll get used to it.” Elenara put a stick through the skinned nug and placed it on the fire, then picked up the second one. “There’s something satisfying about it, too. To know that you brought in the food to sustain yourself.”

“I’d rather bring in more bottles of these, thank you very much,” Varric said, waving around the dwarven ale.

“As a merchant, you certainly enjoy that privilege,” Solas admitted and stopped stoking the fire. He sat down and wrapped his arms around his legs, regarding Varric intently. “You are a successful businessman, are you not? Besides being a well-renowned author, I mean.”

“And here I was, thinking you didn’t mind what’s happening in the real world, Chuckles,” Varric said gleefully. “You continue to surprise me.”

And so the two of them picked up their conversation of Solas’s exploration of the Fade as if no time had passed. Elenara would’ve been happy to listen to them while she waited for the meat to be roasted by the fire. As distant as the elven apostate behaved towards her, she enjoyed Solas’s tales about memories he had found in ancient dreams. But this night, all she could think about was how strange the life of the Dalish must seem to other people if even an experienced adventurer such as Varric was grossed out by something so mundane as preparing the meat for cooking.

Taking care of her food – be it meat or bread or berries – was as natural as breathing to her. It was a necessity when spending your life as a traveler. But that wasn’t the only thing she had learned with her clan. She knew how to weave and knit and sew. Or how to read tracks and take care of the halla in their little pens. She even helped repair the aravels on more than one occasion. And she’d done all of it gladly to serve the Lavellan clan. Such hardship had seemed like a small price to pay if it meant that her family stayed safe and fed, and she’d spent a lot of time practicing and making use of her talents.

With the Inquisition, however, none of these talents seemed to matter anymore. Every morning she awoke in her cabin in Haven, a servant had already made breakfast for her. Before she had time to finish the meal, someone else showed up to bring her new clothing or clean the room for her. She’d known that humans lived very differently compared to the Dalish, and when she joined the Inquisition, she had been sure she could attune to this new lifestyle. And yet, after weeks, it still felt so inherently wrong that she ran off into the forest to hunt on her own at first chance. Out there in the woods, the world had finally made sense to her once more.

Like so many Dalish, she’d been born out in the wilderness. Roaming the vast plains and lush forests of the Free Marches had been second nature to her ever since she had come into this world. And although there had been a time when she had wished she could venture away from the clan to explore some old ruin or seek out education form human scholars, she never truly wanted to leave her old life behind. It was ingrained in her mind and body, her very being. It was who she was.

She only hoped she could go back to the life she lived before when the Breach was sealed.

“Hey, Lavellan,” Varric roared. “Are you still with us?”

Elenara blinked. “Wh–what?”

The dwarf laughed. “You must have been very far away,” he said and tapped a finger to his temple. “I asked you three times if you wanted to share a story with us, but you wouldn’t respond.”

“Oh.” She shifted on her bedroll, trying to push the feeling of embarrassment aside. “Really? I’m sorry. I was… distracted.”

“Yeah, I could see that,“ Varric replied with a roguish grin on his face. “So, do you have a story to share?”

She looked around, taken aback by the dwarf's request. Even Solas and Cassandra seemed interested in what she had to say, which only added to her confusion.

“Why would you care to hear it?” she asked suspiciously.

“We all have something that defines us. Some story we tell ourselves about who we are and who we want to be.” Varric gestured towards Cassandra. “The seeker, for instance, talks about duty all the time, because that is what defines her. Chuckles here can’t shut up about the Veil and the Fade, because that is what defines him.”

Solas narrowed his eyes. “I don’t always talk about the Fade.”

Varric gave the apostate a skeptical look, then turned his attention back to Elenara. “Point is, Lavellan, besides you spying on the conclave and doing your best to seal the Breach, I couldn’t help but notice that we don’t really know much about you.”

“Won’t you be disgusted by the barbaric Dalish customs?” she asked pointedly and nodded towards the nugs that still roasted over the fire.

“You take me far too seriously, Lavellan.” Varric laughed again. “One more reason why we should get better acquainted, don’t you think?”

A faint smile tugged at Elenara’s lips. “There is one story, actually.”

“That’s great.” Varric took a sip from his bottle. “Let’s hear it. The meal won’t be ready for another hour anyway, I guess."

Elenara stretched out on her bedroll, head propped on one hand. “One day, the clan was camped outside of Starkhaven…”

[swafena]

Why Start Shopping Online?: 5 Steps To Safe Shopping From Sketchy Social Media Stores

After Instagram added the Instagram Checkout payment tool these sketchy Instagram stores that pop up in my ads  became even more irresistible. Just while seeing my friend’s Insta story of him dancing like crazy last night these bags pop up in my ads . Am I crazy or I’ve just became in a  desperate need of a new bag?  If you don’t know what I’m talking about you are not using Instagram the right way. Then again, excuse my previous judgment, you might be a guy and the Instagram Bags store might not be targeting you! Anyhow, whatever Instagram stores are targeting you, aren’t these ads so seductive. I don’t even have money and they still lure me in to buying their things. Having said that, Instagram Stores sometimes can be somewhat untrusty. I don’t want to give out my banking details to someone in India that is just waiting for my stupid ass to purchase that fake bag. I know the bags are persuasive but I kind of don’t want to get robbed from stupidity. In this article you can find 

 But First, why you should start shopping on Instagram?

Let’s be honest,  21st century is all about standing out and Instagram stores are exactly the place where you can find those unique fits.

I personally have come across such exclusive brands through pop up ads. I am always am left shocked  by how I’ve never heard about their products previously. In particular my favorite discovery was the brand “Motel Rocks”. They offer exceptional designs that make your figure out of this world. I know that they’ve recently attracted quite a lot of attention but I’ve ordered some pieces from them even before the huge hype only due to pop up adds.  

Let the Algorithm work in your favor

If we forget for a moment of how every platform just waits for us to search for something so they can start bombarding us with adds, the algorithm can actually work in our favor. In reality, Instagram shows you only the adds that you’ll be 

interested in. Take advantage of that! How to do that? - you ask, well it’s pretty easy. For instance, this one time I wanted to buy myself some distinctive jewelry and I typed jewelry store in the search section of Instagram. Sadly, I couldn’t find anything that really appealed to my style. I kid you not, literally two minutes later some rings popped up in my suggested page. The more I deep dive in to the jeweler world of Instagram, the more jewelry adds started following me. After only few minutes I wasn’t the one looking for rings and necklaces but the brands were seeking me as a client. This really helped me find the perfect jewelry designs even though I was not even putting effort but was just paying attention to my suggested adds. 

 Read the Reviews, Please!!!

Instagram is such an accessible platform. Everyone has a profile and it’s easy to review something. It’s even easier to comment your opinion on one of the brand’s posts. Therefore, for us the clients, reading the reviews becomes even simpler. In particular, I was looking at this store that offered swimsuits.

 I loved the designs but I wasn’t sure about the legitness of the company because they didn’t have a big following. For the purpose of me getting the perfect summer fit I had to turn on detective mode which is why I started deep diving in to their comments section. That was useful to some extent, yet I would personally recommend going through their tagged photos. This is where you’ll see real people wearing the real products. Not only that but many vloggers will review small boutique products or make big clothing hauls for huge brands. Therefore, you might even see an actual rough video and an actual rough opinion of the thing that you want to purchase.

 Check Prices while scrolling through their feed.

Literally, having an Instagram store is equal to having a website these days. You can get access to all the information you need just while scrolling through photos. Isn’t that the best? I can spend so much money without even realizing. Putting aside the fact that I’m soon to be broke, I honestly enjoy the simplicity of using the platform. I don’t even have to go to the actual website and I can check the prices of fits that I desire. It’s convenient,  especially in the cases where brands are extremely overpriced and I can’t afford them. It takes me only one tap to feel the disappointment but it saves me so much time.  

  Secure your bank details by Using Virtual Cards 

Needless to say, one of the biggest cons of Instagram stores is that some of them are very untrustworthy. They might offer compelling products but at the same time you have no grantee that you will actually get your products. That’s why trusting them is not the easiest task. The number of data breaches around the world was up by 33% since last year and the total number of exposed reports have doubled. This has made everyone online be hesitant about giving their personal data to unreliable online store. I personally would never give my bank card details to any online store. The way I shop online is by using virtual cards. First and foremost, these cards could be linked to an alternative account than your primary and provide additional security features. I can top them up whenever I want to and I can freeze them as easily. My personal favorite thing is that I can distribute my budget better. For example, If I haven’t spent anything on clothes last month, I could top up the account that my virtual card draws money from. Thus, I’ll be able to have a specific portion of my budget for my online shopping. It’s perfect because this stops me sometimes from overspending too much on online shopping.  If you want to have a variety of Virtual cards like I do, you can use “iCard”. The app sadly operated only in Europe. I’ve tried similar applications but it never worked out in my favor. I like “iCard”  because I can actually distribute my budget in a more secure and proper way. On the other hand, I like their stylish products like the NFC Keychains - keychains through which you can make contactless payments. Amm, excuse me, if am going to spend my entire salary on pointless purchases at least I could do it with style.

 So, now that you know how to securely spend your money on the Internet, go and get something new to walk around your house in. The pandemic might have made us feel sad and lonely but you know what they say – “Whoever said that money can’t buy happiness, didn’t know where to go shopping!” Enjoy!!!

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.2 - In which we browse a superhero forum

The run had helped to wake me up, as did the hot shower and a cup of the coffee my dad had left in the pot.  Even so, the fatigue didn’t help the feeling of disorientation over just how normal the day seemed as I made my way to school.  Just a matter of hours ago, I had been in a life and death fight, I had even met Armsmaster.  Now it was a day like any other.

Yeah, I’d be suprised if you pay any attention to anything they teach at school today. The feeling of coming back to normality and routine after that must be something else

I felt a bit nervous as I got to homeroom.  Having basically skipped two classes the previous Friday, failing to turn in a major assignment, I figured that Mrs. Knott probably knew already.  I didn’t feel relieved when Mrs. Knott glanced up at me and gave a tight smile before turning her attention back to her computer.  That just meant the humiliation would be redoubled if and when class was interrupted by someone coming down from the office.  A part of me just wanted to miss this class too, just to avoid the potential humiliation and avoid drawing attention.

Ugh, falling out of schedule and/or failing classes because of the bullying is rough as hell. Keeping your grades acceptable can be used as escapism from your own thoughts in these kinds of situations and if that starts falling apart too... what’s keeping you in school at all?

If you start missing classes it can quickly slowball into full-on not attending class at all.

All in all, I felt anxious as I made my way to my computer, which kind of sucked because Computer class was one of the few parts of the school day I didn’t usually dread.  For one thing, it was the one class in which I was doing well.  More to the point, neither Madison, Sophia nor Emma were in this class, though some of their friends were.  Those girls didn’t usually feel the need to harass me without the trio around, and I was further removed from them because I was in the advanced stream of the class.  A good three quarters of the people in the room were computer illiterate, being from families that didn’t have the money for computers or families that didn’t have much interest in the things, so they practiced typing without looking at the keyboard and had lessons in using search engines.  By contrast, I was in the group that was learning some basic programming and spreadsheets.  It didn’t do a lot for my already geeky reputation, but I could deal.

Oh interesting that Taylor’s favourite class is Computer Science! I am studying to be a Software Engineer myself! Nice!

It’s good that those three aren’t in every class, so you at least get some moments of respite from their bullshit. That’s good.

We never had the basic kind of keyboard-training classes and all that. Is computer science taught early in America? Here we basically don’t learn anything until we are like 16 or 17 at the very least.

Mrs. Knott was an alright teacher, if not the most hands on; she was usually content to give us advanced students an in-class assignment and then focus on the more rambunctious majority for the rest of the class. This suited me just fine – I usually wrapped up the assignment in a half hour, leaving me an hour to use as I saw fit.  I had been recalling and going over the events of the previous night during my morning run, and the first thing that I did when the ancient desktop finished its agonizing load process was to start digging for information.

Lucky you! Assignments stress me out a lot, generally. I wish I could just do them easy-peasy like that. Although I suspect Taylor’s are much simpler, just because of her age and school education vs college.

The go-to place for news and discussion on capes was Parahumans Online. The front page had constant updates on recent, international news featuring capes.  From there, I could go to the wiki, where there was information on individual capes, groups and events, or to the message boards, which broke down into nearly a hundred sub-boards, for specific cities and capes.  I opened the wiki in one tab, then found and opened the message board for Brockton Bay in another.

Ok I love this. I love this a lot.

This is one of the most realistic things the serial has done so far. Also one of the most fun. If superheroes were real, you bet your ass there would be forums about them, probably more than one. With hourly threads and a lot of speculation and debate.

I imagine there would be like a serious one with strict rules for talking about world events relating to capes, like if it was the news. Cause they aren’t just a tv show or a videogame, they have a real impact in the daily lives of people everywhere.

There would also be whole fanclubs or communities for each super-group and for each city/country, where they talk about the popularity, newcomers, fights, etc...

I can also see entire pages dedicated to romantic relationships or rumors, fanarts, conspiracies, versus battles (who would win?) etc....

Basically, supers being real would absolutely reshape the whole internet forever.

I had the sense that either Tattletale or Grue were the leader of the group I had run into.  Turning my attention to Tattletale, I searched the wiki.  The result I got was disappointingly short, starting with a header reading “This article is a stub.  Be a hero and help us expand it.”  There was a one sentence blurb on how she was a alleged villain active in Brockton Bay, with a single blurry picture.  The only new information for me was that her costume was lavender.  A search of the message boards turned up absolutely nothing.  There wasn’t even a hint as to what her power was.

Grue seemed the one calling the shots, but I could also see Tattletale as a short of “shadow leader” type, yeah...

Tattletale has almost nothing about her in her page! That’s very interesting. So she’s very secretive or at least good at hiding information about herself...

Heh, ironic that the Tattletale is the one who keeps secrets. I like the name she picked.

I looked up Grue.  There was actually information about him, but nothing detailed or definitive.  The wiki stated he had been active for nearly three years, dealing in petty crimes such as robbing small stores and doing some work as an enforcer for those who wanted a little superpowered muscle along for a job.  Recently, he had turned to higher scale crime, including corporate theft and robbing a casino, together with his new team.  His power was listed as darkness generation in the sidebar under his picture.  The picture seemed crisp enough, but the focus of it, Grue, was just a blurry black silhouette in the center.

So Grue is an experienced criminal! Somewhat at least. Three years of experience is certainly better than one night!

He was doing low-level crimes until recently, when he adquired his new team, and they seem to be doing big heists now! How did Grue find the others? Seems like a pretty big increase in notoriety and strength in a short time!

Darkness generation....that could potentially be very cool. I wonder if it can be used offensively, like fire with Lung. I always imagine the darkness element (when used as blasts the same way they use fire, in some media) to feel like being devoured by some parasite, like if darkness ravages and devours you. Light on the other hand just scours and obliterates everything it touches. At least those are my headcanons for the more esoteric elements.

I searched for Bitch, next.  No results.  I did another search for her more official title, Hellhound, and got a wealth of information.  Rachel Lindt had never made any real attempt to hide her identity.  She had apparently been homeless through most of her criminal career, just living on the streets and moving on whenever police or a cape came after her.  The sightings and encounters with the homeless girl ended around a year ago – I figured that was when she joined forces with Grue, Tattletale and Regent.  The picture in the sidebar was taken from surveillance camera footage – an unmasked, dark haired girl who I wouldn’t have called pretty.  She had a squarish, blunt-featured face with thick eyebrows.  She was riding atop one of her monstrous ‘dogs’ like a jockey rides a horse, down the middle lane of a street.

Huh, so Bitch, or Rachel, had never had a secret identity or a secret life! Seems like her cape and normal life are one and the same! She was homeless and running from one place to another, along with her giant eldritch dogs.

I assume they took her into the group and she prefers it to being alone and without a place to be.

According to the wiki entry, her powers manifested when she was fourteen, followed almost immediately by her demolishing the foster home she had been living in, injuring her foster mother and two other foster children in the process.  This was followed by a two year series of skirmishes and retreats across Maine as various heroes and teams tried to apprehend her, and she either defeated them or successfully evaded capture.  She had no powers that would have made her any stronger or faster than the average Jane, but she was apparently able to turn ordinary dogs into the creatures I had seen on the rooftop.  Monsters the size of a car, all muscle, bone, fang and claw.  A red box near the bottom of the page read, “Rachel Lindt has a public identity, but is known to be particularly hostile, antisocial and violent.  If recognized, do not approach or provoke.  Leave the area and notify authorities as to her last known location.”  At the very bottom of the page was a list of links that were related to her:  two fansites and a news article relating to her early activities.  A search of the message boards turned up too many results, leaving me unable to sift through the crap, the arguments, the speculation and the villain worship to find any genuine morsels of information.  If nothing else, she was notorious.  I sighed and moved on, making a mental note to do more investigation when I had the time.

Damn, can she control her powers all that well? Or at least, at that time? Cause that sounds to me like the type of situation where her newly-found powers go out of control and cause problems.

She had a foster-home, but then had to run away from the people she hurt ,the authorities, heroes and everyone! And she lived two years like that! No wonder she is antisocial now, jesus.

Also she can apparently turn any dog into those boney creatures of death. Wow. Depending on where she is, she could be incredibly powerful in a fight!

She also seems to be the most famous one so far, having even online admirers and fansites about her exploits. Interesting. She seems to be dangerous though, as she is said to be violent to everyone she meets.

The last member of the group was Regent.  Given what Armsmaster had said about the guy being low profile, I didn’t expect to find much.  I was surprised to find less than that.  Nothing.  My search on the wiki turned up only a default response, “There are no results matching this query.  32 unique IP addresses have searched the Parahumans.net Wiki for ‘Regent’ in 2011.  Would you like to create the page?”  The message board didn’t turn up anything else.  I even did a search for alternate spellings of his name, such as Regence and Recant, in case I had heard it wrong.  Nothing turned up.

Woah, if Tattletale had little to no information, this guy is straight-up a nonentity! Absolutely hidden from the public eye!

We don’t even know his powers, story or place within the group. How fascinating.

If my mood had been on the sour side as I got to homeroom, the dead ends only made it worse.  I turned my attention to the in-class assignment, making a working calculator in Visual Basic, but it was too trivial to distract me.  The work from Thursday and Friday had already given us the tools to do the job, so it was really just busywork.  I didn’t mind learning stuff, but work for the sake of doing work was annoying.  I did the bare minimum, checked it for any bugs, moved the file to the ‘completed work’ folder and returned to surfing the web.  All in all, the work barely took fifteen minutes.

You at least get experience and speed in doing these kinds of things! And calculators can be fun to program!

Also yeah, having nothing to do and being able to use the internet the rest of the class is pretty sweet!

I looked up Lung on the wiki, which I had done often enough before, as part of my research and preparation for being a superhero.  I’d wanted to be sure I knew who prominent local villains were and what they could do.  The search for ‘Lung’ redirected to a catch-all page on his gang, the ABB, with quite a bit of detailed information.  The information on Lung’s powers was pretty in line with my own experience, though there was no mention of the super-hearing or him being fireproof.  I debated adding it, but decided against it.  There were security concerns with my submission being tracked back to Winslow High, and then to me.  I figured it would probably be deleted as unsupported speculation, anyways.

They are really underselling Lung huh. No wonder Taylor was suprised about how OP he could be! And yeah better not to edit anything in a trackable device, or without any solid source for that matter.

The section beneath the description of Lung and his powers covered his subordinates.  He was estimated to have forty or fifty thugs working for him across Brockton Bay, largely drawn from the ranks of Asian youth.   It was pretty unconventional for a gang to include members of the variety of nationalities that the ABB did, but Lung had made it a mission to conquer and absorb every gang with Asian members and many without.  Once he had the manpower he needed, the non-Asian gangs were cannibalized for assets, their members discarded.  Even though there were no more major gangs in the east end of town to absorb, he was still recruiting zealously.  His method, now, was to go after anyone older than twelve and younger than sixty.  It didn’t matter if you were a gang member or not.  If you were Asian and you lived in Brockton Bay, Lung and his people expected you to either join or to pay tribute one way or another.  There had been local news reports on it, newspaper articles, and I could remember seeing signs in the guidance counselor’s office detailing where people who were targeted in this way could go for help.

He seemed to want to grow quickly by recruiting every asian person in Brockton Bay, cape or not! And if you were Asian, you would have heard of his band and their threats or extortion.

You are partly responsible for the capture of one mayor threat to the safety of the citizens of Brockton Bay. You did great last night, Taylor!

Lung’s lieutenants were listed as Oni Lee and Bakuda.  I already had some general knowledge about Oni Lee, but I was intrigued to see there were recent updates to his wiki entry.  There were specific details on his powers:  He could teleport, but when he did so, he didn’t disappear.  As he teleported, his original self, for lack of a better term, would stay where it was and remain active for five to ten seconds before disintegrating into a cloud of carbon ash.  Essentially, he could create another version of himself anywhere nearby, while the old version could stick around long enough to distract or attack you.  If that wasn’t scary enough, there was an report of him holding a grenade in his hand as he repeatedly duplicated himself, with his short lived duplicates acting as suicide bombers.  Topping it all off, Oni Lee’s wiki page  had a similar red warning box to the one that Bitch/Hellhound had on hers, minus the bit about his public identity.  From what they knew about him, authorities had seen fit to note him a sociopath.  The warning covered the same essential elements: exceedingly violent, dangerous to approach, should not be provoked, and so on.  I glanced at his picture.  His costume consisted of a black bodysuit with a black bandoleer and belt for his knives, guns and grenades.  The only color on him was an ornate Japanese-style demon mask, crimson with two green stripes down either side.  Except for the mask, his costume gave off the distinct impression of a ninja, which just added weight to the notion that this was a guy who could and would slide a knife between your ribs.

Oni Lee sounds like a mayor fucking threat! The ability to teleport-shadow clone yourself multiple times to get to a thousand places quickly AND leave behind copies who could stab, shoot you or even blow themselves up seems really really dangerous.

And he’s a sociopath to boot! You were lucky he wasn’t there last night, he could have probably just teleported to the roof and knifed you.

Bakuda was a new entry, added to the ABB wiki page just ten days ago. The picture only showed her from the shoulders up, a girl with straight black hair, large opaque goggles over her eyes and a metal mask with a gas mask styled filter covering the lower half of her face.  A braided cord of black, yellow and green wires looped over one of her shoulders. I couldn’t pinpoint her ethnicity with the mask and goggles, and her age wasn’t any easier to figure out.

This was the bomb expert, right?

She looks menacing with that setup, which is probably true! Her powers also sounds really worrying!

The wiki had a lot of the same details Armsmaster had mentioned to me.   Bakuda had essentially held a university ransom and she did it with her superhuman ability to design and fabricate high tech bombs.  There was a link to a video titled ‘Bomb Threat @ Cornell’, but I didn’t think it wise to play it in school, especially without headphones.  I made a mental note to check it out when I got home.

Damn, she was basically a domestic terrorist back then!

It’s probably not a good idea to play a bomb threat at a school IN a school, you’re right.

The next thing that caught my eye was the section heading titled ‘Defeats and Captures’.  I scrolled down to read it.  According to the wiki, Lung had apparently suffered a number of minor defeats at the hands of various teams, ranging from the Guild to the local teams of New Wave, the Wards and the Protectorate, but consistently managed to evade capture until last night.  A blurb read, ‘ Armsmaster successfully ambushed and defeated the leader of the ABB, who was weakened from a recent encounter with a rival gang.  Lung was taken to the PHQ for holding until the villain’s trial by teleconference.  Given Lung’s extensive and well documented criminal history, it is expected he will face imprisonment in the Birdcage should he be found guilty at trial.’

Huh, so he WAS bested before! Just not captured! He always evaded prison, until now thanks to Taylor and co.!

Or thanks only to Armsmaster, according to the official story, which to be fair, is what they agreed upon.

The birdcage? What is that, some sort of super-prison like The Raft, Blackgate, Impel Down in One Piece...

Is that place safe? Cause prisons and jail breaks are pretty synonymous in comics

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  I wasn’t sure what to think.  By all rights, I should have been angry that Armsmaster took the credit for the fight that could have cost me my life.  Instead, I felt a building excitement.  I felt like shaking the shoulder of the guy sitting next to me and point to the screen, saying, “Me, I made that possible!  Me!”

Hehe. Excited and happy Taylor is just the best.

With a renewed enthusiasm, I switched tabs to the message board and began looking to see what people were saying about it.  A post by a fan or minion of Lung threatened violence against Armsmaster.  There was a request by someone asking for more information on the fight.  I was given pause by one post that asked whether Bakuda could or would use a large scale bomb and the threat of potentially thousands or hundreds of thousands dead, to ransom Lung back.

Eeash, seems Arms was right about the consequences of this!

That Bakuda threat is really scary

I tried to put that out of my mind.  If it happened, it would be the responsibility of heroes better and more experienced than I.

True, you can’t carry everything on your shoulders.

It struck me that there was one person I hadn’t looked for.  Myself.  I opened up the advanced search page for the Parahumans.net message board and did a search for multiple terms.  I included insect, spider, swarm, bug, plague, and a mess of other terms that had struck me when I had been trying to brainstorm a good hero name.  I narrowed the timeframe of posts to search for posts made within the past 12 hours and hit Search.

Huh, I don’t think you would find that much honestly. I mean, fight aside, you were pretty stealthy on your way in, and the only people who directly met you are the fire dragon currently going to jail, a couple of mooks without their boss, a group of very cryptic teenage villains and the superhero who was going to keep you hidden sooo yeah.

Also kinda hard to search for yourself without having decided on a name yet!

My efforts turned up two posts.  One referred to a villain called Pestilence, active in the UK.  Apparently Pestilence was one of the people who could use ‘magic’.  That is, he was if you believed magic was real, and not just some convoluted or deluded interpretation of a given set of powers.

Pestilence sounds awesome as an insect-power name. One of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse!

Huh, so there are powers that seem more “magical” and others that are more “technological”. Nice.

The second post was in the ‘Connections’ section of the message board, where rescued damsels left their contact information for their dashing heroes, where conventions and fan gatherings were organized and where people posted job offers for capes and the cape-obsessed.  Most were cryptic or vague, referring to stuff only the people in question would know.

That is a nice system to have, to contact people anonymously.

The message was titled, simply, “Bug”

Oh

Well damn, seems someone did notice you

I clicked it and waited impatiently for the outdated system and overloaded school modem to load up the page.  What I got was brief.

Subject: Bug

Owe you one.  Would like to repay the favor.  Meet?

Send a message,

Tt.

OH

IT’S TATTLETALE.

IT’S THE TEENAGE VILLAINS REACHING OUT TO HER AFTER THE LAST FIGHT.

This opens up so many possibilites oh my god

The post was followed by two pages of people commenting.  Three people suggested it was something important, while a half dozen more people decried them as tinfoil hats, Parahumans.net’s term for conspiracy theorists.

Hah! I imagine a message like that would cause speculation even in OUR reality! Considering Taylor’s the protag, those tinfoil hats may be on to something there...

It was meaningful, though.  I couldn’t interpret it any other way; Tattletale had found a way to get in contact with me.

She sure has!

So now both Arms and Tattletale have contacted her, both with offers maybe! Damn, she sure got popular after that one night!

Oh, oooh

What if they offer her to join them?

And what if she accepts?

Oh god the story could go in a wildly different direction now. I hadn’t even considered that in my list of possibilities!

It seems at odd with her desire to be a hero, so maybe not.... But what if?

I’m liking where this is going.

[galahadwilder]

The Living Joke, Ch. 2

Harley has discovered a cure for the Joker’s broken mind, and now a mostly sane Jack Napier must come to grips with all of the harm he’s done over the years, and decide whether he’s damned for the actions of a madman wearing his face.

***

One hundred feet below Wayne Manor, elevator doors open into a vast cavern and a dead man steps out. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, the black sheep of the Bat Family, Titan and Outlaw, enters the Batcave carrying his cycling helmet under his arm and wondering why Bruce has invited him here. Especially in the middle of the day.

"Chemical analysis looks hopeful," he hears Bruce say. "The formula seems to be doing exactly what Harley predicted it would."

"Seems to?" Dick replies. "Didn't you say yourself he was acting like a normal person in the café?"

"He's very good at that," Bruce responds as Jason rounds the corner and sees Bruce in chinos and a button-down sitting at the Batcomputer, looking over analysis of what Jason recognizes vaguely as a variety of antipsychotic, though not one he's ever seen before. Dick, meanwhile, is perched on one of the railings and dressed like a well-groomed hobo. "He fooled me for months as Eric Border," Bruce continues. "I'm not exactly objective here." He takes a sip of his coffee from a #1 Mom mug that Tim and Cass had found at a flea market and had rapidly become his favorite. "Good morning, Jason," he says, without turning around.

"Hey, B," Jason says, unsurprised that Batman has noticed he's here. He places his helmet down on an empty stainless steel table. "Doesn't sound like I'm in trouble for anything?"

"You're not," Bruce says, typing a long string of nonsense symbols, or rather, a code designed by Clark to be easily readable at super-speed. In the corner, the computer states that the file is being shared with SciencePizza—Barry's username on the Justice League groupchat. "I need your perspective on something." He glances at Dick. "Both of yours."

"Sure, whatcha got?" Jason says, dropping into one of the spare chairs and spinning a few times.

Bruce gestures to the screen. "What do you think of this?"

Jason tilts his head. "Looks like a new kind of anti-psychotic," he says. "Organic ingredients, some novel stuff..." He looks at Bruce. "This for Harvey?"

Dick shudders. "God, I hope not."

"Be nice, Dick," Barbara says, coming up the stairs with Cassandra trailing quietly behind her. Barbara is wearing jeans and a leather jacket, while Cass is dressed in jeans, a messy white blouse, and a black skinny tie. "Harvey's an old friend."

"He shot me in the face," Dick pouts back.

"Poor baby," Barbara responds, caressing her boyfriend's cheek. "Always a shame when something happens to a face that pretty."

Cass walks over to her father's side, leaning onto the back of the chair with crossed arms. "Your call seemed urgent."

"Somewhat." Bruce looks up at her, naked fondness in his eyes. "Cassandra, darling, can you move? I need to turn around."

Cassandra moves over slightly, turns, and leans against the keyboard, and Jason is somewhat jealous to note that she's perfected the "bisexual slouch" that Jason has been trying to practice on Roy and Artemis for months. And given that it's Cass, she probably knows exactly what she's communicating, though given that Tim and Stephanie are in California Jason isn't exactly sure who she's communicating to.

Bruce turns the chair around, so Cass is behind him and the rest of his present children in his field of vision. "I've called the four of you here because each of you has a unique perspective on a particular issue," he says. "We have reason to believe that Harley Quinn has managed to create an effective treatment for the Joker's mental condition."

There's a moment of absolute stunned silence that echoes through the entire cave, then Barbara breaks it with a hearty "Holy shit."

Dick whistles.

Jason crosses his arms behind his head. "So what's the plan to get him to take it?" he says. "Force it down his throat?"

Bruce shakes his head. "I already had Aaron Cash deliver him the first dose," he says. "And from what Barry, Harley, and I can all tell, it seems to be working. But."

"But," Cassandra echoes knowingly. She nods. "You're not sure."

Bruce purses his lips. "I want it to work," he says. "But at the same time, the pessimist in me is hoping that it won't. Punching him is simpler. So it's..." He tilts his head. "...difficult." He looks at his three oldest partners. "You three have the most experience with him out of anyone in the family, and Cassandra—" he acknowledges her with a nod of his head, "—is the best equipped to notice smaller signs. I'd like to ask you four to watch him, to gauge whether he actually is getting better or whether it's some kind of ruse."

Jason grimaces, leaning forward. "You know I'm going to default to no."

Bruce sucks in his lips and nods. "That's why I asked your advice specifically," he says. "You and Barbara are the least likely people in the family to trust him." He does not say why, because everyone in the room knows and he of all people knows what it's like to have to relive significant trauma. "If he is faking, I'm counting on you two to find out why."

It's an odd experience, being needed by Bruce for possibly the first time since he died. Jason decides he likes it.

"I kinda feel like the odd man out, here," Dick says.

Bruce turns to him. "You're the most likely to believe him," he says, and it's not an accusation—there's pride in his voice as he says it. "If it is, then Jack is going to need—"

"Jack?" Barbara interrupts.

"Jack Napier," Bruce says. "It's his name."

Cassandra raises an eyebrow. "First-name basis?"

Bruce remains completely impassive, which for him means he’s basically rolling his eyes. "If this is real, then Napier is going to need someone in his corner to make sure he doesn't backslide."

"I have a condition," Barbara announces. Everyone turns to her, and she clutches at her elbow, nervously shifting her weight to one hip. "I'm not going near him," she says. "I'll do it, but only as Oracle. No Batgirl involved."

Jason's eyes unconsciously flick to her stomach, where the bullet scar is hiding among a small number of larger knife wounds, then he catches himself and looks away. He feels a twinge on his back, the one he feels whenever he gets cold, where the Lazarus pit never quite erased the scarring from the crowbar. He can sympathize with not wanting to share space with that monster. It's a big part of why he started carrying guns, and why he decided to wear the red helmet—his own twisted form of exposure therapy.

"Agreed," Bruce says, turning back to his computer. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Croc's been robbing bodegas again." He glances at Jason. "You've got a fairly good relationship with him. Care to come with?"

In case anyone is wondering why Bruce seems out of character, I'm using @unpretty's Bruce from the Sorrowful and Immaculate Hearts series—specifically taking inspiration from the fic "Christmas in Kansas"—who I think is the best Batman/Bruce Wayne ever written.

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Hi i love your metas. I am now get worried that Tsurumi is a sociopath but he, Ogata are spies so hard to understand. I always think Ogata has BPD bcoz he is like this person and normal for a man. But author sometime writes him only for making plot twists. Sorry for bad english.

Thank you, I’m really glad you love my meta!

Don’t worry about your English as I’ve said many times English is not my mothertongue either.

Now, in regard to your ask and personality disorders let’s put some order in this as I’ve noticed there’s quite a lot of interest for this topic.

First of all rarely characters from works of fiction have accurate personality disorders. The best they can have is the trope version of that personality disorder, unless they’re stories dealing either with real life people or written by someone competent or that researched a lot into the topic as writing realistically someone with a personality disorder isn’t easy at all.

Also, more often than not they go for the extreme version of the personality disorder as the tame version wouldn’t be worth the effort.

That’s why instead than using my studies in psychology I fish up the trope descriptions for personality disorders and use them. It’s not just simpler but also more fitting considering the subjects at hands.

It’s also worth to note way too many authors aren’t trying to represent a personality disorder... with the result it becomes impossible to fit a character in that personality disorder because any resemblance is coincidental and the character simply isn’t meant to have it.

Long story short, I don’t think Noda had a particular disorder in mind for Ogata otherwise he would give him much more obvious syntoms.

Noda, instead than giving disorders to his characters, seems more focused in giving them traumatic experiences and maladaptative copying mechanisms giving them ambiguous disorders without really having to dig too much into them so as to make them accurate.

The only disorder Noda seems to refer at, albeit vaguely, in his manga, is the post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) as most of the cast is composed by war veterans who might be esperiencing it one way or another (well, actually in real life not everyone experience it but in fiction it either doesn’t exist or everyone experiences various deegress of it and becomes a Shell-Shocked Veteran).

The good part of having so many cast members who are probably experiencing this is that in order to keep characterizations different, each of them experiences it differently, giving the whole thing a tinge of realism instead than a flat aderence to a trope.

Of course this too can be Noda merely referring to a trauma and to the maladaptative copying mechanisms derived by it, without Noda really planning to dig too deep into the disorder’s condition.

Sugimoto, after all, isn’t really qualified to give a diagnosis for himself and the others and it’s worth to note part of the people he’s thinking at had pre-existing traumas.

Long story short, even if post-traumatic stress disorder seems a safe bet, we can’t really be sure about it.

Anyway, let’s give a look at the two disorders you mentioned.

Antisocial personality disorder (ASPD or APD) and Borderline personality disorder (BPD) don’t quite have a referencing trope as far as I know.

It can be because to people who aren’t really into personality disorders antisocial personality disorder closely resembles sociopathy and psychopathy and borderline personality disorder resembles post-traumatic stress disorder so media didn’t feel like digging into the distinctions.

Or maybe they just aren’t mainstream enough.

This of course lowers the chances Noda thought at them as well.

Anyway, Antisocial personality disorder.

I’ll just pick the main defining traits from tv trope again because they feel what an author would use more than the defining traits from a psychology book... even though since I’ve already said Ogata didn’t fit the sociopath trope, this might feel redundant.

Antisocials will simply take what they need or want, and don't think of anybody as a friend; everybody is a tool.

While Ogata has no friends, not everybody is a tool to him as, as I mentioned discussing the sociopath and the narcissist tropes, he went out of his way to spare Huci, help Nikaido, spare Shinpei and even comforted Koito.

They have a reputation for rationalizing acts most would consider dog kicking, in the process shaming their accuser for standing up for themselves. Contrition and remorse are tools for getting what they want and nothing more; if they think or know that they can win their way back into someone's good graces by appearing to want to atone for their actions, they will, only to revert to their old ways the minute that they have succeeded.

Ogata never tries to atone for his own actions... but I’ve already discussed how he clearly feels guilty for Yuusaku’s death.

They are also notoriously prone to violent and aggressive behavior and will frequently seek revenge after a setback, and their general inability to experience guilt or appreciate consequences means that they are unlikely to view punishment as anything other than an undeserved injustice, something to bullshit their way out of, or as a score to settle.

Ogata, being the trope of the cold sniper isn’t really prone to violent and aggressive behaviour. Sure, he used scissors against Ejiri Matasuke, but that’s probably the only time Ogata did used physical violence against someone without being in need of it (kicking Koito to render him unconscious is tactical, not gratuitous violence).

He didn’t kick Asirpa when she tried to reach for the arrows nor beat Koito after he was immobilized to take revenge for Koito hitting his nose with his head.

In a time period in which people are actually very violent (look at the Nikaido brothers beating Sugimoto up or at Sugimoto threatening Shiraishi or even at him and Kiro beating the guys who were trying to rob them), Ogata is comparatively very calm and cold.

More traditional methods of teaching empathy are generally held to be useless with antisocials, as they typically just learn how to be better manipulators.

Again, I’ve talked already about how Ogata fails as a manipulator.

(They) have no qualms of violating established rules or disproving widely held theories.

This can be perceived as fitting... but it actually fit all the cast. No one is really following the law in the gold hunt, it’s a pre-requisite to take part to the gold hunt itself and again just a trait wouldn’t be enough to.

Long story short, no I don’t think Noda had this in mind when he created Ogata.

Borderline personality disorder now.

I’ll skip all the elements it has in common with post-traumatic stress disorder... as this can be a disorder in Golden Kamuy.

So... defining traits that differentiate it from post-traumatic stress disorder are: frantic fear of abandonment, unstable and intense relationships, impulsiveness and inconsistent image of self.

None of this really fits Ogata.

He is an abandoned child, true, but while he likely would have preferred for Asirpa not to leave him, he didn’t show a ‘frantic fear of being abandoned’ by her.

His relationships aren’t intense or they wouldn’t fit with the trope of cold sniper.

Ogata isn’t consistently impulsive, he’s a risk taker, true, but he usually plans things first when possible and hardly acts on impulse.

Regarding Ogata’s image of self he knows very well how good he is as a sniper... but also how little worth he had in his father’s eyes.

Long story short I don’t think Ogata was meant to have this one disorder either.

Again it’s just me.

If the Golden Kamuy characters were real life people to make a diagnosis about what they might suffer would be a lot more complicate than just checking a checklist. As they’re just characters, we should expect them to have just the defining traits to the disease, the ones that would eventually create a trope.

Still, if you want, you might consider reading @chibivesicle‘s post which actually considered the chance of Ogata having borderline personality disorder per the NIH as @chibivesicle diggest into this not from the trope side but from the psychological side.

Now... can Tsurumi be a sociopath?

Skipping I don’t think Noda had in mind specific diseases for his characters, Tsurumi is much more complicate than Ogata to analyze because we hardly have any introspection for him... and since he’s meant to fit the trope of chessmaster and manipulative bastard we hardly see him in contests in which he can be himself still... let’s try.

Mind you, this time I’m going to report only the main points and not the descriptions.

1) Lack of Empathy and Devoid of Conscience

As I said there are little to no introspection scenes with Tsurumi so we can’t really say if his actions are due to how he feels or due to the image he has to project outside to play out his role of chessmaster and manipulative bastard to judge.

However the fact he tries to send away Fina and Olga...

...and seemed to genuinely suffer for their dead

since he remained with Fina until she died, holding her hand and even told her his true name, showed affection for Olga...

...and even set them down to rest together before leaving...

... make me think in those moments he was showing empathy and coscience otherwise he would have had no reasons to waste his time with them once Kiro and Co were out of sign.

Also although it would have been easy for him to persuade his men to get rid of the lightnight bandit and O-gin, he spared him and even entrusted him to Huci alongw ith some money wrapped in his parents’ clothes so he would even have mementos of them.

2) Consummate Liar and Manipulator.

As said before Tsurumi fits the tropes of chessmaster and manipulative bastard so of course he’s a consummate liar and manipulator, the best in the whole Golden Kamuy were everyone lies and way too many have tried manipulating someone.

The problem comes from the fact this isn’t an enduring maladaptative behaviour which characterize a personality disorder but a set of skills he had to learn to be an effective spy and that now is using to reach his goal. As we’ve no info on Tsurumi PRIOR to him becoming a spy, we can’t know if he’s just someone with enduring maladaptative behaviours which he’s using to do his job or if those are merely acquired skills.

3) Pathological Need for Stimulation.

I wouldn’t say Tsurumi is doing all this for the thrill, even if there are moments in which he seems to relish on the thrill. We also have no info about him viewing his existence as boring or meaningless.

Tsurumi seems to have a clear goal in mind, and all this doesn’t seem just an excuse to have fun.

4) Shallow Affect and Complete Lack of Emotional Reciprocity.

Again he seemed to care for Fina and Olga but, due to the situation, it’s hard to say how much. He might care/might have cared for others, like Tsukishima, but again, his plans get in the way and with the lack of internal dialogue we can’t really tell, just speculate.

5) Grandiose Sense of Self-Worth.

I can’t remember Tsurumi babbling at how clever he is but since he wants to become the new Hokkaido dictator I guess he could have some.

To sum it up.

Info on Tsurumi are vague and, due to the tropes he represents and the lack of inner info or past info about him, we can’t really sort him well.

Tsurumi has very little evidence going again the idea he’s not a sociopath (never mentioning Noda even had fun compating him to hitler or a demon) and actually, considering other factors people could very well buy he’s one.

Is that the case?

Actually I still think we miss pieces of his past that we should know before judging him... and I’m not sure Noda aimed to represent personality disorders and, in this case, the resemblance with one is ‘coincidental’, the result of Tsurumi being an antagonist as well as Noda wanting to use the chessmaster and manipulative bastard tropes, and not to a genuine effort to portray a personality disorder... but again, maybe I only saw the tip of the iceberg.

Still, it's worth to note I think if he wanted us to buy he's a sociopath he would have given us absolutely 0 evidence he could not be one and instead he gave us 2 moments that seem to deny it and much more evidence he's one when there are actually some parts for which we've no evidence.

In short Tsurumi I understand how people can thinks Tsurumi can be a sociopath... but his resemblance to the Sociopath trope can very well be coincidental due to the other tropes he represents and due to us missing some info. It’s hard to say FOR SURE as for now we've nowhere near enough elements to judge... and some elements seem to go against this theory.

Noda seemed to favour being vague so I think we can only wait and see.

Thank you for your ask and sorry if something in my reply was unclear but I had a pretty terrible week and now I’m mostly worn out. Sorry again!

[macksted-blog]

6 New Netflix Christmas Movies That Are Just In Time For The Holidays

While we're still in the middle of the spooky season that is Halloween, something much colder lurks around the corner. That's right: brace yourselves, Christmas movies are coming! And we're not just talking a couple of flicks either, as content providers like Hallmark have plans for a record number of yuletide cinematic offerings to be unleashed in the year 2019.

To compete with that sort of intense competition, one has to act pretty early... which is probably why Netflix has unveiled its holiday movies this very week. In free Time you can check this Netflix Gift Card Code Generator and Generate free Codes.

Not content with letting Hallmark do all the heavy ho-ho-holiday lifting, the streaming giant is looking to get into the game with a lot of movies, shows, and specials that'll warm your heart, as well as your cocoa.

In the middle of that burgeoning lineup are six original Netflix films that plan to win over one and all as the weather outside grows ever so frightful. Everything from sequels to holiday favorites, a long-awaited adaptation, and a couple of other surprises are in store for you lucky viewers.

Put on your hat and gloves, as this list is going to get real frosty real quick. Now let's see what's sledding into the Netflix queue throughout November and December's holiday season.

1. Holiday In The Wild

While you may love Christmas movies like no other genre in the world, you might be sick and tired of watching them all take place in the snow. Well, should you have this very specific demand, Netflix has you covered with our first film, Holiday In The Wild.

Starring Sex and the City's Kristin Davis as Kate, the film shows us a wife who tries to take the edge off of her son's departure for college with a romantic trip with her husband.

Strangely enough, that's right about the time he decides to dump her, leaving Kate to embark on an African safari all by herself. Luckily, Holiday In The Wild has a couple of things to take her mind off of her recent pains.

Thanks to some animal rescue scenarios, and a handsome pilot played by Rob Lowe, Kristin Davis' recently single woman will have a lot to keep her busy in this unconventionally warm holiday movie.

2. Let It Snow

Believe it or not, the film adaptation of the YA Christmas triptych Let it Snow has been in development for almost a decade.

Authors John Green, Maureen Johnson, and Lauren Myracle put together an impressive trio of stories that see a cast of teenage characters finding love, friendship, and happiness in one really snowy night in Richmond, Virginia.

Just as impressive as the list of authors involved in Let It Snow's literary incarnation, the movie version has quite a cast of heavy hitters itself. With an ensemble that includes Chilling Adventures of Sabrina's Kiernan Shipka, Spider-Man: Far From Home's Jacob Batalon, and fellow Spider-Person Shameik Moore, he of Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse fame, that's just the surface of the spectacular roster of talent that will bring this story to life.

3. Klaus

The legend of Santa Claus is about to get another fresh coat of paint, as Klaus reimagines the story of the beloved holiday figure in an animated comedy with a big heart. In this version of the story, Klaus (J.K. Simmons) is a lonely carpenter who teams up with a less-than-passing postal cadet named Jesper (Jason Schwartzman) to bring holiday magic to a village that's not in a holly jolly mood.

Co-starring Rashida Jones, Joan Cusack, and Will Sasso, Klaus is a Christmas movie that looks to give both kids and adults a new angle on a very classic tale. Not only does this look like a gorgeously animated film, but did we mention J.K. Simmons is playing this story's version of Santa? That feels like something people might be just a little interested in knowing.

4. The Knight Before Christmas

If the Christmas movies on Netflix had a royal court, you could bet that actor Vanessa Hudgens would be sitting right on that hallowed lineup of talent. After scoring a pretty big win with The Christmas Switch, Hudgens has gone back to playing one version of herself with this year's The Knight Before Christmas.

Don't think this is going to be some standard, business-as-usual holiday movie rom-com though, as there's a pretty big catch when it comes to the object of Vanessa Hudgens' affection this time out.

As luck, or misfortune, would have it, Hudgens' character of Brooke is a science teacher who's about to meet a guy from out of town. And by out of town, we totally mean that he's a time traveling knight from the medieval era.

Naturally she'll try to send him back to his own time, but if you know anything about holiday movies like The Knight Before Christmas, you can kind of see where this Christmas movie is going in the most charming way possible.

5. Holiday Rush

Christmas is probably the worst time to lose your job, especially in the world of holiday movies like Holiday Rush. Starring A Million Little Things' Romany Malco as a popular New York City radio DJ, and Star Trek Discovery's Soniqua Martin-Green as his producer, this Christmas movie comedy has Malco almost going off the air for good and his kids looking to get everything on their Christmas list.

As a deal to get him back into the broadcasting game is in the works, one big catch presents itself to Malco and his on-screen family: they have to live much simpler lives. With a story of family togetherness, and the help of the legendary Darlene Love in the role of the protagonist's aunt, Holiday Rush is going to be a race against time to save the day, and get a little bit closer to the ones we love.

6. A Christmas Prince: The Royal Baby

If you're one of those fans of Christmas movies who watched A Christmas Prince religiously back when it premiered in 2017, and if you're someone who really enjoyed seeing A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding continue the story of Rose McIver's Queen Amber and Ben Lamb's King Richard, then oh baby are you in for a fun time this year! You totally saw what I did there, as there's nothing better than throwing in a quick joke to announce that A Christmas Prince: The Royal Baby is on the way for this December.

For you folks out there who need a little more than a little prince or princess to spice up the sequel plot, how's this for a story? Not only will the king and queen have to restore peace with a foreign country, but if Amber and Richard fail, a curse will fall upon the kingdom of Aldovia. It all comes down to a missing 600-year-old treaty, and a midnight deadline, which only makes A Christmas Prince: The Royal Baby that much more of a fairytale for fans of Netflix's holiday movies to enjoy.

[lesbovalentine-blog]

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A Romance of Three Kings

Despite being rescued from certain death, Urie seems less than happy. Note the dialogue exchange between the two of them. 

“An explanation, to you? You think I can forgive you like this?”

(....)

(No, I can’t. No, I can’t!!)

Urie ehoes the same sentiment of being unable to forgive him, and the elipses show a clear hesitance. 

Why does he say those things though, and what are we meant to take from Urie’s apprehension. 

If it’s Urie speaking then it also makes much more sense what he can’t forgive, them not showing up in time to save Iwaccho. As with Urie, his number one priority is not actually the war of succession which Marude, Matsuri and Furuta are all engaged in at the moment but rather the people directly around him.

It’s likely the grudge Urie holds is Marude and Matsuri’s own failure to act sooner. That if they had interfered earlier, Iwao would be alive and not bleeding his last out on the floor only comforted with the fleeting image of his old friend before death.

Emotionally Urie is robbed of any victory he might have felt in this scene because of the loss of Iwao. His number one goal was not his own priority but protecting that one man and Urie failed in the end, and not only that but Iwao is not even a sacrifice in taking down Furuta as Furuta managed to escape. 

Why is Urie uneasy with his own rescuers, and why does the expulsion of Furuta which should be an unambiguously good thing feel so empty and ambiguous a victory at the moment?

The formation of this third faction has been set up for awhile in the background. Marude mentioned specifically that it was Hide who tipped him off.

Amon mentions he has comrades on the other side of the island for Takizawa to retreat to.

Scarecrow is seen leaving the island much earlier.

It’s possible Amon might have interfered in Marude’s fight to protect him from Yoshitoki, considering the Ukkaku shape shards driven into his chest and the fact that it was claimed a ghoul attack was what did him in.

As Washuu have been shown incapable of producing any kagune, and also Amon has a tendency to lose control of his and destroy everything that is in sight. 

Marude also watched the Matsuri fight and suggested it might have been better off to let Matsuri succeed than Furuta, which is most likely the grounds for their current alignment. Scarecrow when saving Amon relies entirely on CCG Rc suppressant gas to deal with the ghouls guarding him, and beyond that calls him by name.

Then later on, Amon seems like he is about to tell Kaneki that Hide is still alive but when Kaneki says the news would only worry him more Amon stops.

Finally all of these distant plot pieces have come together, yet in their moment of true victory they were unable to defeat Furuta in any significant way only forcing him to retreat. It echoes a bit of the fight with Eto, as Furuta was backed into a corner and lost all of his allies yet still managed to escape and get exactly what he wanted by reuniting with the clowns and leading a slaughter of the clowns.

Perhaps because the true cathartic victory over Furuta is one that’s set up to happen with a uniting between human and ghoul forces. A true victory then cannot be achieved with only human forces raising their hands up against Furuta. Yet, somehow paradoxically we see the opposite happening. Even though this new insurgent group is headed by Hide, Kaneki’s own best friend, they seem to be operating in the shadow of Goat with no contact with them whatsoever.

The story has eluded to such a thing for a long time though. As Roma’s own simplistic view of the world as a stage show was disproven, then so too was her understanding of the conflict. This is no longer a fight merely between two kings on the opposite end of a chess board. 

The meta narrative of Tokyo Ghoul has always been about conflicting viewpoints, a tendency of people to simplify conflicts down to black and white. The CCG and Kaneki, both which carry such black and white views of the world have a floor colored in the same black and white, Kaneki in his mindscape, and the floor of the main office itself. 

When Kaneki tries only to think of ghouls and is told by Arima to fight for the side of ghouls, the black tiles fall off of his mindscape and a white sky is revealed. However, the blue sky he attempts to see is still not there. As Kaneki tries to force himself into the role of fighting only for ghouls, despite temptations and people left behind on the other side. 

It was always possible that this stagnated conflict between two opposite sides, black and white, Furuta and Kaneki, the extermination of all ghouls and a world where ghouls belong, was going to be interrupted by a third party. 

There was the unwillingness of several key members of what should have been Goat to accept a world full of ghouls, or that their previous thinking about ghouls may have been wrong. Most notably, Amon who said so point blank, and Akira who while empty of hatred did not know what to do to step forward.

Akira and Amon, rather than their own personal wrongdoings in the past and what they have done to ghouls, instead act as if they are now liberated from this conflict. At the same time they are unwilling to let go of the emotions they had in the past, they want the same purpose they had when they were investigators. To believe more than anything that they were not wrong. 

It’s an emotion that Marude shares in his realization of the Washuu’s deception, that those who have died so far for the conflict died for a meaningless one. That, just like Amon and Akira everything he has done so far is empty, even of purpose as its’s foundation was built on a lie.

Their reaction to this however, has not been to turn around and sympathize with ghouls, who were all this time the greatest victims of the lie. Eto writes an epic about ghoul rights and a nameless half ghoul fighting to reform a world against them, one that was written in sympathy to the ghouls who were born into tragic existences and pulls out the only detail relevant to him. That the Washuu were his enemy and were ghouls themselves.

When Arima is asked to describe the motivation for his master’s horrible and crude breeding project, he gives one much more sympathetic than anybody would have thought. One that is overlayed directly over Marude’s decision to shoot Yoshitoki in the head. 

Marude quotes Mado too, one of the most unsympathetically anti-ghoul characters in the series. The one whose legacy is part of the reason Amon and Akira are unable to grow properly, just before making the decision to shoot Yoshitoki in the head. 

The ultimate irony of Tokyo Ghoul has spelled out clearly for a long time that Mado’s intuition was not all that it was cracked up to be because he let himself be blinded by hate. There was nothing actually that remarkable about his death, the world did not necessitate it, he instead chose tormenting and murdering a fourteen year old girl for his kagune and ignoring a seventeen year old girl who was just begging her to empathize with her and understand her as his hill to die on.

Touka even points this out, did you really respect your father so much as a ghoul investigator, or did you simply want him to come home?

Which obviously conflicts Amon’s statement, that the world  gave them no choice but to do what they did.

Akira and Amon seem to regard themselves at this moment, more as observers and contemplaters than actual active participants in the fight. Marude might even share that to a degree as 

Amon showed up at the beginning of Rueshima with much fanfare but made absolutely no difference until towards the end. He suggests to Akira that they need to contemplate their emptiness as their path forward, even though Goat saved both of them and their layer currently has a sign with blinking neon lights saying that their redemption for what they did in the past is now helping create a better future for ghoul kind. 

Marude is similarly shown doing almost nothing to interfere in the clown raids that secured Furuta’s position of power, but instead commenting on only as an onlooker.

It’s not their actual position though, as Amon, Akira, Marude are all important people in the bureau who could change a lot of minds simply by speaking up. However, all three of them similiarly have lost their place to belong in the world. Not only that, but all of the previous motivations they fought for, the foundations were always built upon lies. 

If you look upon Hide’s current gathered forces, assuming Akira and Amon are or were going to be among them this theme repeats itself. Even Matsuri has lost the rest of the Washuu family which he belonged to, the chairman position of the CCG which he worked towards his entire life, and even to himself the place of masculine and heterosexual dominance that seemed to be his birthright. As he realized through all of this that he naturally does not fit the mould of a Washuu heir simply because of his feelings for Urie.

They lost their place in the world, but also cannot find a place in the world of ghouls that Goat now inhabits, so they band together instead. Not only are his forces made up of people who have lost their place in the world, but also of members who have a blinding nostalgia for the old days of the CCG. It’s revealed so in Amon and Seidou’s fight.

Even with everything they have learned, there is an urge within them to go back to the way things were in seemingly simpler days. When their actions simply were to protect Tokyo and they believed that they were in the right. 

One more thing to point out about this budding alliance is that almost every member is extremely anti-ghoul, and their anti-ghoul believes go conspicuously unchecked or unexamined by the story.

Akira and Amon are saved and basically hand held by Goat, but in the end do not agree to fight for their purpose. Moreso than that though, if you look at the emotional release in this scene, the person who was comforted was not the ghoul Hinami who was the main victim of the situation but Akira herself. Hinami barely got a word in about what she opened up to Ayato about.

Akira and Hinami’s scene, while somewhat touching on Akira’s end mainly happened for Akira’s benefit, with no attempt at all for reparations towards Hinami. 

Amon already said his feelings have not changed, and moreso he does not even accept his body as a ghoul. Even in the omake, Amon cannot even answer a direct question about whether or not he’s a ghoul.

As for Marude, his motivation to act has always been human lives. With his regret for failing to stop the breach at the cochlea, and his own later hatred towards Matsuri for being so wasteful with human lives in his bloody strategies.

Furuta’s phrase “peace on death” even comes from Marude originally as a war cry to exterminate all of the ghouls on the opposite side of the conflict. 

While Marude has of course grown since then and become more self reflective about the conflict and the loss of lives it deals in, and dropped a lot of his own cocky attitude or at least shown the doubt hidden underneath, his concern has been raised all of 0 for the lives of ghouls, he’s only motivated about human lives. 

Urie has not changed his sympathy towards ghouls even the slightest, and the only thing that motivated him to act once more was human lives being put on the line rather than ghoul ones. He was fine backing up the Oggai when it meant the extermination of more than 90% of ghouls in a single ward, dragging them out into the streets and letting them die bloody deaths. 

His own reading of Takatsuki’s book, basically calls the fact that ghoul’s have rights and emotions nonsense. For all of Urie’s progress in regards to himself, he has yet to even change his stance on ghouls one inch, and he has not even acknowledged that essentially for all intents and purposes he basically is a ghoul by this point. 

So here we have our group of terrorists, not a single one of them motivated in any way to fight for the actual victims of the Washuu’s violence, ghouls themselves. 

One of their key members even is a Washuu, and a mostly unrepetant one as well for the legacy of what the Washuu inflicted upon ghoul kind. Then what exactly is their motivation to fight if not for ghoul kind?

Marude as said before, has always been motivated mainly by minimizing the deaths that come with this conflict. Matsuri even commented to such, that Marude has stayed single his whole life because of his devotion to the CCG. 

The conflict is something that has permeated through Tokyo Ghoul since the beginning, the supposed natural conflict between humans and ghouls. Marude’s approach seems to be to minimize the loss of humans to this conflict, and also to fight for the right reasons. Urie’s has been to grow stronger so he can dominate it, achieve rank and glory so he can get what he wants from the conflict. Meanwhile Matsuri is somebody who loses himself in it entirely.

He enjoys it like a game, and delights when both allies and enemies die as long as those deaths manage to align in his favor. While Matsuri definitely has a sympathetic element to him by being forced to fit the mold of the Washuu which is entirely restrictive and also makes him repress his identity as a gay man, it’s important not to forget that he has been set up as an antagonist to everyone, and especially Sasaki’s brand of empathy from day one.

He saw nothing to comfort Urie when Urie lost Shirazu, he enjoyed the deaths of his allies if it benefitted him, and most important Matsuri has always known that his life is highly restricted but considers the power and achievement he gains as a result completely worth it. He says so point blank, that the restraints on him are necessary for him to wield the power that he does. 

If there’s something serious to be gleaned from Matsuri’s semi-ridiculous faux death at the end of the clown arc, it’s that Matsuri loses himself entirely in the conflict. 

Yes, Matsuri cares about Urie but it’s been far established that the reasons Matsuri cares about Urie is because of Urie’s own attitude as an investigator who cares nothing more about throwing himself into the conflict for rank and achievement. Urie’s restrictive framework which he sees the world through is shockingly like Matsuri’s. Even to the point where Matsuri just assumed Urie would understand him, even when clinging to the recently dead body of his former friend. 

The king’s conflict has always been this way though, reliant on figureheads and empty believes rather than the discussions which characters who want to change the world crave. 

Hide, and by extension Marude’s forces might lead us to finally the crowning of a third king. Something that has been foreshadowed since Amon’s awakening.

There are three containers marked: Re, foreshadowing that there will be three kings crowned. Kings one and two include Furuta and Kaneki, we might soon be seeing the entry of a third king.

Takizawa even explicitly compares Amon to Kaneki, as both are people he wants to be, famous heroes held up as figureheads. As that black and white way of thinking is the way Seidou saw things in the beginning, holding up individual investigators within the CCG as heroes to strive like becoming, but something he’s since moved away from. At least in recognizing that he can no longer fit the black and white hero mould, especially after failing to do so with Aogiri. 

With that king would introduce a third faction that fights for a status quo among the two extremes presented by both Furuta’s CCG and then Goat. 

Which would make the current predicted factions: Goat: Kaneki Ken, Take Hirako and the Garden Children, The former Members of Aogiri, The Re: Cafe Ghouls Hide’s Group: Hide, Marude, Akira, Amon, Urie Furuta’s CCG: Furuta, The remaining clowns, Juuzou’s Squad, The remaining Q’s, Mutsuki + Aura and the Oggai

With Kaneki fighting for a future that is secure for ghouls, because he has to at this point if he wants to raise a half ghoul child that does not turn into Eto 2.0. Furuta fighting to bring an end to all conflicts via one grand final swing of the scythe with all the hyper accelerationism he has been burning up in the CCG as of late. (Super Peace perhaps meaning death for all of them, both the humans and the ghouls).

Then finally a third group which fights for a return to the status quo. Perhaps a CCG that exists with the same duty, but not using Quinque, and not dependent on the Washuu, V’s, or even having it necessary ghouls be alive if they are moving past the need for Quinque.

While there’s no doubt in my mind Hide himself sympathizes with Kaneki, the only reason for Marude’s forces not lending their hand to Goat in what could have been a two pronged attack that would easily have saved both sides from tragedy is that they do not sympathize with the rest of Goat’s cause, that is the protection of those innocent ghouls who are again the primary victim of this conflict. 

We’re warned of such by Tatara early on in the setup for this current arc. People will continue to fight as long as they find reasons for doing so. 

If Furuta’s goal is to bring an end to the meaningless fighting via one giant double suicide, then Marude’s goal may be the antithesis of that. To return to the fighting with a better leader in charge, perhaps Matsuri, or perhaps just himself, so that the fight against ghouls can be conducted more ethically from now on.

As the series has told us from the beginning though, the bird cage is something that needs to be smashed if a new world is ever to be born, not simply made more comfortable. 

Perhaps then the reason this conflict continues to take from the characters present in Marude’s group, the loss of Iwao noticably affecting both Urie and Marude is a consequence for this. As long as they only fight for the side of humans, they will never fully be able to see why this conflict propagates itself and therefore the conflict will continue to take and take from them.

What’s required is not a military coup against Furuta, better technology, but rather perspective and understanding of both sides.