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stellar-solar-flare · 6 months ago

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Every Reason - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rated T for themes - my blog is intended for 18+ only| Angst, hurt/comfort, a little fluff | Established relationship| Everyone Lives/No One Dies AU.

When it's time for the holidays, your ghosts always seem to come haunt you, and at a New Year's Eve party in the Compound, they rise to the surface.

Story Content Warnings: References to past trauma and abuse (not detailed), self-worth issues.

Reader is female, no description of appearance besides a mention of her wearing a dress and makeup.

Word Count: 1,064. | This fic on AO3. | Author Masterlist

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

The soft click of the roof terrace door found its way into your consciousness, and as quickly and discreetly as you could, you wiped your wet cheeks with the sleeve of your coat. The makeup had been set in place with the same spray that Nat used for her looks, which meant that it would not falter even in the face of an apocalypse, let alone with a little sniffling.

Crisp night air surrounded you; the lights of the whole Avenger’s Initiative Campus had been turned off so that the fireworks would get the best possible canvas, and in between the shows, you could enjoy the stars. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Your stomach was full of delicious treats from the grazing board — the biggest that you had ever seen. There was a pleasant buzz of a couple of glasses of champagne in your veins and a pretty dress on your body.

You had every reason to be happy.

It didn’t take an agent to recognize the steps that were crossing the roof, so instead of turning around to check, you used the few seconds to try to pull yourself together.

“Here you are,” Bucky breathed out as he reached you, and you could make out a hint of relief from his tone, which made your stomach twist. “I thought you said that you were going to the bathroom?”

His right palm came to rest on the small of your back, and a part of you thought you didn’t deserve that sort of warmth and had probably worried him on top of it.

“I did,” you said, hoping that your voice wouldn’t sound so stuffy that it would give you away. “I just needed a moment to breathe.”

“It’s pretty loud down there,” Bucky replied, shaking his head. “The party games keep getting wilder.”

You nodded, still keeping your eyes on the faraway horizon, the starry skies that spread out above the forests that surrounded the AI Campus. It was peaceful; a home, just as much as the man standing next to you was starting to be after a few months of going steady.

“Yeah,” you said, your flat tone betraying you and making that mocking voice in your head congratulate you for being some agent.

“Doll?” Bucky murmured, and even without looking, you could imagine the crease of worry on his brow. “Is everything alright?”

He knew the answer to that question — it wasn’t a question, not really, simply a chance for you to save face if you weren’t ready to talk about this right now. You weren’t sure you were, but you didn’t want him to worry.

“I’ll be fine, Bucky. I just. Holidays are hard.”

You whispered the final sentence with a voice so tiny you weren’t sure he would’ve heard the words if it wasn’t for his super hearing. Tears burned in your eyes again, the swirl of disgust and disappointment and anger a maelstrom at the bottom of your stomach. You had thought you had left all this behind; you had thought you’d gotten over it, and you weren’t sure which one you hated more, the ones that had caused you to be like this or yourself for still allowing them to have this power over you. Still, after all the years of no contact, when you had your own life and a career and a beautiful group of friends and an amazing partner, their ghosts lingered in the back of your head.

“Hey, come here,” Bucky whispered, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you to him. “Shhh.”

You buried your face against his button-up; with how hot he ran, he hadn’t bothered to get a coat, and you were immensely grateful for it since it allowed you to feel his warmth.

“It was always bad when it was the holidays. Worse than usual,” you managed to say. “And I hate it that I can’t just enjoy it even now, when everything is fine, and I’m afraid I’ll ruin the mood for everyone else and I’m already ruining your night and you’re so wonderful and I don’t deserve you!”

With your last words, you broke down into ragged sobs, and his arms tightened around you. He pressed his face against your hair and slowly rocked you from side to side, gently, letting the worst of the emotion pass you by. You scrunched the fabric of his shirt into your fists, clinging on to him like he was the only steady thing in the world.

“It’s alright, honey,” he cooed. “I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your night and being such a killjoy when everything is fine.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You’re not ruining anything,” he whispered.

You centered yourself on the slow movement of his hand on your back, the heat of his body, the scent of his aftershave.

“You could’ve just told me,” he said, and it wasn’t him scolding you.

The quiet tone shot another arrow of guilt through your chest. You hated the idea of him having looked for you from the compound with a pit of worry in his stomach; you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d been gone, but it had to be at least half an hour now.

“I know the holidays aren’t the easiest for you, either,” you said. “I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You’re not a burden,” he said. “I want to be there for you. Makes it easier to accept… that I can have my bad days too.”

“Of course you can,” you said.

Finally, you found enough strength to lift your face to look at him. Even in the dim light, you could still see the blue of his eyes, the handsome face framed by a few locks that had escaped the half-bun on the back of his head. It made you all the more conscious about how your eyes were probably swollen and red.

“Sorry, I’m a mess,” you whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “I’m here. Even when it’s not perfect. Especially then. I love you, you know?”

It wasn’t the first time he said it but it still made you smile regardless of the emotional turmoil that still rolled its way through your body.

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Thank you for being there for me.”

“Always, doll. Always.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #tw self worth issues #tw past trauma #tw past abuse

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yetanotherlesbianonthiswebsite · 1 year ago

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An overly complicated analysis of everything we know about Neve Gallus in canon, as well as some additional thoughts of mine on the themes surrounding her (because I am so gay for her already)

1. Canon information

- Her age is, as of yet, unknown. In the Tevinter Nights story The Streets of Minrathous, narrated in the first-person perspective by Neve, we read “He greeted me with a dismissive ‘young lady’ that made me think he’d forgotten my name” (216). However, this is a description by an older man, whose nephew is alive long enough that his “parents had disowned him years ago” (213). In another passage of the story, the following can be read: “The man was a con artist I’d turned in the year before. To be fair, he’d nearly gotten me killed the year before that, so we were even” (221). We can therefore be certain that she has engaged successfully in detective work for at least two years, and has likely been doing so for a while. We do not know when the story is set, neither do we know anything about the parallel stories of “The Wigmaker Job” and “Luck in the Gardens”. We get the information that a Venatori cultist was wearing clothes that are fading (220), and that the cult had long since lost much standing in society; it has likely been quite a number of years since 9:42. At the same time, we know of a Qunari invasion in the eastern part of the Tevinter Empire from 9:44/45 onward, with several major cities falling to the invaders. Neve describes the catacombs as “a place to hold a year’s worth of food and supplies, securing the city’s survival in case of blight or Qunari invasion” (232). A woman as observant and politically savvy as her would likely not frame an invasion as that much of a hypothetical in case of an ongoing war. It is reasonable to assume that the story takes place sometime around the middle of the forties. Which means that by the events of Veilguard, in the middle of the fifties, we should expect Neve to have had at least twelve years of experience as a private investigator, which places her likely age at minimum in the early thirties. (Not that I am hoping for anything 40 or upward, no, there is no MILF agenda here)

- She describes the manor of a rich man as “a residence nowhere near the third-rate bookseller where I rent a room” (216), locating her residence both outside of the rich parts of town, and informing us that she does not have the greatest of means.

- Likewise, we learn that her “family has more templars than mages. I’m sure that says a lot about me. The point is, I’m not from an old family and I felt as at home in Lady Varantus’s house as Jahvis looked” (218). Within the rigid social hierarchies of Tevinter, she is privileged by magehood, but not by blood. To the degree that Tevene social classes can be broken down so neatly into stratified categories, she seems to be somewhere in the lower ranks of the middle class.

- She is canonically disabled; an amputee wearing a prosthetic leg made of dwarven metal (215). In the comic The Missing #4, we see her prosthetic, it is designed as a cobra standing up in intimidation of an attacker, and the metal seems to be predominantly a bronze or gold with blue or silver accents (6). On her foot on the other leg, she is wearing a boot which has a bronze or gold tip symmetrical to the tail of the cobra, and a high plattformed heel (ibid). Combining that with the fact that she fights and runs with a prosthetic and a heeled boot (TSoM 215, TM4 16), we learn that she expresses immense control over her body.

- Likewise, she approaches all her actions, her appearance, and her communication verbal and physical with a high degree of precision and deliberation. Her outfit is perfectly composed, with white and dark leather as primary colours, the same blue-gold metal that her prosthetic is made out of for accents as well as her belt (which is a coiling snake, TM4 6), a dark turquiose for some of the cloth (such as pants and cravat), a light turquiose for such accents as her fingernails and her meticulously applied eyeliner, and some manner of cap akin to a graduation cap at the right side of her head, in an almost black brown, with gold details. The shape of the cap has the exact same angles as a rhombus as her earrings (TM4 9). The detail on the cap forms a snake. It has been posited by tumblr user @cleric4vampire that even her movement in the trailer reinforces the cobra/snake motive (https://www.tumblr.com/cleric4vampire/752850000700194816). Despite sometimes excrutiatingly long workdays (223), Neve puts an extreme amount of emphasis on her appearance. Even in the comic, while the style does feature very dynamic character movements while talking, her gestures stick out as particularly deliberate; she talks with her hands a lot, and with deliberation (see the appendix of this post for more). This speaks to a plethora of willpower, control, and a desire to maintain a controlled barrier between the self and the larger world.

- While writing this, I have come up with the theory that the blue accents of her apparell might partially be lyrium. If she is literally wearing lyrium makeup, I will marry her.

- The only two offensive types of magic that we see her use are ice magic (e.g. TSoM 226, 227, 235, TM4 16, 17), and a manner of magic that lets her freeze the moisture in the air around a person to stagger them (e.g. TSoM 214, TM4 17). Through cooling the air around herself a bit less, she manages to hide herself in mist (e.g. TSoM 214). She is capable of some healing magic (227).

- She has a network of contacts, acquaintances, and informants all over Minrathous, particularly in its underground.

- She loves salty fried fish (221). This is not only in line with Minrathous being a coastal capital, which has a distinct influence on the caloric inflow into the city and cuisine at large, but also, once again, stresses that she does not have much money at her disposal, by emphasizing that she eats fried fish from a cheap street food stall very regularly (221), which she calls her “fish dinners” (228).

- She canonically has straight dark brown hair, meticulously kept at the left side of her face to keep space for the cap on the right, brown eyes, and brown skin. It is furthermore canon that anyone who has a problem with that or wishes to change that with mods will be exploded via elemental magic. It is furthermore canon that I will not buy Veilguard if the game whitewashes her.

- She is involved with the Shadow Dragons in helping fugitive slaves (TM4 9, 20). She expressly approves of the use of armed violence against the institution of slavery. At one point, she comments: “The cult’s dead god wanted to bring Tevinter back to what it was—to its “glory.” It was nonsense, of course. It always was. The old empire was even more corrupt and heartless than what it is now, no matter how pretty the picture Corypheus painted” (TSoM 221). In her vocal resistance to the empire, she sees it as a good usage of her time to track down Venatori (214). In spite of her resistance against the empire, she considers the city her home and would like it to be better than it is (214, 221).

2. Themes: The noir detective and the empire

It goes without saying that the formational archetype behind the character of Neve Gallus is that of the noir detective. A solipsistic cynic with little means, a private investigator, called to investigate a crime scene in dance with and against the police, depending on the point of the story. The noir detective of the movies of the first half of the 20th century, the formational corpus from which stems the archetype, is distinctly tied to the metropolis; a story that needs the urban context, the urban scenery. While of course featuring a plentitude of settings and configurations, at the root of the archetype rest particularly a white, male, US-American figure. To bring Minrathous in parallel with New York particularly is in so far a welcome change as it means a partial departure from the orientalism underlying a lot of early descriptions of Tevinter in Dragon Age canon. But, to me at least, it raises the question of how well Dragon Age is equipped to tackle the arising thematic implications. Just like the Tevinter Empire, the United States of America is a slave society fueled by the deprivation of Indigenous communities and the physical exploitation of a racialized, disenfanchised class. The metropolis is the core of the imperial core; and Minrathous is, as the largest city of Thedas and the capital of Tevinter, certainly that. The Streets of Minrathous manages but a partial critique of the society of the imperial-colonial metropolis. While Neve remains critical of the templars, the undeniable cop stand-in, the critique remains bound to corruption the higher one goes in the chain of command, as well as the bureaucracy (231). The story, in particular, follows the very dangerous trope commonly found in copaganda that the base-level officers should be allowed to disobey the chain of command and act on their own, particularly when it comes to the deployment of heavy weaponry (234). That the base-level officer is as much an agent of imperial violence as the top of the hierarchy, turning the systemic and depersonal violence of the system into concrete interpersonal violence, cannot be formulated by the text.

Furthermore, the Venatori, in their supremacist-fascistic death cult, remain cast in ableistic terms that deprive their ideology of systemic connectedness: “that didn’t stop remaining loyalists from acting delusional and stirring up trouble when the mood struck. That’s fanatics for you” (213). That fascism is but the logical conclusion of empire, particularly a weakened and collapsing empire, remains just as unacknowledged. And yet, what haunts the story is a profound sense of loneliness and alienation. A rich man estranged and alienated from his nephew because of his fear of social repercussions for the nephews behavior, said nephew dying while grasping to any semblance of connection he can (“He knew what came next. He was searching for whatever company he had left” 215), Neve facing the cultists in their hideout alone because the templar Rana does not want to breach protocoll, hell, even the Venatori preacher making a ridiculous figure, alone and ignored on his soapbox while the masses rush by him and shut him out of their attention; everyone is lonely, seperated by the dividing and isolating forces of the empire. The imperial metropolis condenses people, yet they are emotionally distanced from one another. Neve’s final action in the story is to return to the rich old man, explaining to him that his nephew was trying to be good after all; a post-mortem attempt to mend but one severed connection between humans. Her entire character is defined by the trajectory that comes from wandering almost aimlessly in a desperate attempt to escape the solipsistic nature of the empire. Her defining emotional conflict is with the reality of empire, as much as her status as a brown, disabled, bisexual woman clashes with the roots of the figure of the noir detective. We see by the time of The Missing #4 that she finds a sense of fulfillment in working with the Shadow Dragons for the slaves and against the slavers, which hints at a character arc from TSoM to TM4. As Varric correctly observes, she has a heart of gold (TM4 20), one which she hides behind a particularly controlled facade, as stern as beautiful. How well her character plays out in Veilguard hinges entirely on the stories limited ability to discuss empire in meaningful terms, and the story’s willingness to further explore her emotional arc suggested between TSoM and TM4. I am furthermore worried about how well a series known for its overt centrism can handle the nuances that make her character so great, as well as fearing the reaction by gamers[TM] to having a brown, female, disabled, bisexual detective.

3. Appendix: I am gay for the way she talks with her hands and body

TM4 9

TM4 5

TM4 10

TM4 14

TM4 19

#neve gallus #da:v #my analysis

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physalian · 1 year ago

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How to Subvert Expectations Without Compromising The Story

Whoo boy, is this a contentious topic with the last few blockbuster franchises. To “subvert expectations” is to do the opposite of whatever your audience expects to happen. Your audience expects the story to go a certain way based on the archetypes and tropes your characters follow, the tone you’ve set for your story, and the level of mature themes that tone allows.

It might mean your long-lost princess doesn’t actually reclaim the throne she’s been fighting for. Or the presumed hero (or any of their straight friends) of the story dies halfway through their arcs. The mentor pegged for death actually survives to the end credits. The villain’s plan actually succeeds, or the heroes fail to deactivate the bomb before it explodes. The “will they/won’t they” is never fulfilled.

Supporters of SE argue the following:

It’s refreshing, novel, new, a fun twist on a classic tale

They like that it’s unpredictable and bold

They’re tired of stories fitting within the same wheel ruts of every other story that came before and like to see creativity thrive

It gives audiences something they didn’t even know they wanted

Haters of SE argue this:

It’s only done for drama at the cost of fulfilling character arcs

It’s a cheap gag that only works once and has zero rewatchability with the same impact

Tropes and archetypes have stood the test of time for a reason - to entertain

Plot holes ensue

When expectations are subverted and the story changes in a more positive light (like a beloved character who doesn’t die when we all think they will), the reaction is not nearly as emotionally charged as when the story changes negatively. Thus, the haters have plenty of evidence of bad examples, but minimize the good ones. Good SE is novel, or a pleasant surprise, or a quaint relief. Bad SE trashes the story and spits on the fans and destroys the legacy of the fandom.

What makes a bad subversion?

Like killing any character for shock value, bad SE takes all of the potential of a good story and gambles it for a string of gasps in the movie theater. It exists only to keep the audience on their toes, or because the writer went out of their way to change the direction of their work when fans figured out the mystery too quickly and now *must* prove all the clever sleuths wrong.

So, say your subversion is making the hero lose a tournament arc when they made it all the way to the final round and the entire story is riding on this victory. They may have stumbled along the way and had some near-misses, but they must win. Not just so the audience cheers, but because this is the direction their arc must take to be at all entertaining and fulfilling.

Then they lose, because it’s *novel* and irreparable consequences are reaped in the aftermath. They lose when, by rights, they were either stronger or smarter or faster than their opponent. They lose when the hand of the author rigs the fight against them and everyone notices.

Sure, it’s not at all what audiences expect, but you, writer, your first responsibility to the people consuming your content is to entertain them. So what purpose does this loss serve this character? How does it impact their arc, the themes that surround them, the message of your story?

Even if mainstream audiences don’t care on the surface about themes and motifs, they still know when a story fumbles. It’s not entertaining anymore, it’s not satisfying. Yes, crap happens in reality, but this is fiction. If I wanted to read about some tragic hero’s bitter and unsatisfying demise, I’d read about any losing side in any war ever in a history book. I picked up a fiction book for catharsis.

On the topic of “gritty fantasy/sci-fi anyone can die and no one is safe” – no author has the guts to roll the dice and kill whoever it lands on. Some characters will always have plot armor. Why? Because you wouldn’t have a story otherwise, you’d just have a bloody, gory, depressing reality TV show with hidden cameras.

What makes a good subversion?

Now. What if this character loses the final round of their tournament, but it’s their own fault? Maybe they get too cocky. Maybe it’s perfectly, tragically in character for them to fall on their own sword. Maybe the audience is already primed with the knowledge that this fight will be close, that there might be foul play involved, but still deny that it will happen because that’s the hero, they won’t lose. Until they do.

Then, it’s not the hand of the author, it’s this character’s flaws finally biting them in the ass. It’s still disappointing, no doubt, but then the audience is less mad at the author and more mad at the dumbass character for letting their ego get to their head.

If you write a character who’s entire goal in life is to win that trophy, or reclaim their throne, or get the girl, and they *don’t* do those things, then the “trophy” had better be the friends they made along the way, that they learned it wasn’t the trophy, it was something *better* and even though they lost, they still won. Even when expectations are shredded, the story still has to say something, otherwise the audience just feels like they wasted their time.

A good subversion does not compromise the soul of the narrative. You might kill a fan favorite character or even the hero of the story, but their impact on the characters they leave behind is felt until the very end. The hero might lose her tournament, but she still walks away with wisdom, maturity, and new friends. Heck, sports movies leave the winner of the big game a toss-up more often than not. Audiences know the game is important, but they know the character they’re following is even more important. Doesn’t matter if the *team* loses the battle, so long as the protagonist wins the Character Development war.

Good SE that should be more popular:

The “Trial of threes” – your hero faces three obstacles and usually botches the first two and succeeds on the third attempt. Subvert it by having them win on the first or second, lose all three, or have a secret fourth

Not killing your gays. Just. Don’t do it. That’ll subvert expectations just fine, won’t it?

Let the villain win

Have your hero’s love interest not actually interested in them because they realize they deserve better / Have the hero realize they don’t want the romantic subplot they thought they did

Have the love triangle become a polycule / have the two warring love interests get with each other instead, or both find someone they don’t have to compete for

Mid-redemption villain backslides at the Worst Moment Possible

Hero doesn’t actually have all the MacGuffins necessary at the Worst Moment Possible

Hero is simply wrong, about anything, about important things, about themselves

The character who knows too much still can’t warn their friends in time, but lives instead with the guilt of their failure

The mentor lives and becomes a bitter rival out to maintain their spot at the top of the charts

Kill the hero, and make the villain Regret Everything

More deadbeat missing parents, not just dead parents

Let the hero live long enough to become the villain

—

Why write a crown prince that never becomes king? What’s the point of his story if all he does is remain exactly who he was on page 1 and learns nothing for his efforts? Why write a rookie racer if he spins out in the infield in the big race and ends his story broken and demoralized in a hospital bed? Why should we, the audience, spend time and emotional investment on a story that goes nowhere and says nothing?

Cinderella always gets a happy ending no matter how many iterations her story gets, because she wouldn’t be Cinerella if she remained an abused orphan with no friends. We like predictability, we like puzzling out where we think the story will go based on the crumbs of evidence we pick up along the way, we like interacting with our fiction and patting ourselves on the back when we’re proven right.

Tragedies exist. There’s seven types of stories and the fall from grace is one of them… but audiences can see a tragedy coming from a mile away. Audiences sign up for a tragedy when they pay for the movie ticket. We know, no matter how much we root for that character to make better choices, that their future is doomed. Tragedy is still cathartic.

What’s not cathartic is being bait-and-switched by a writer who laughs and snaps pictures of our horrified faces just so they can say they proved us wrong. Congratulations? Go ahead and write the rookie broken in the hospital bed. I can’t stop you. Just don’t be shocked when no one wants to watch your misery parade march on by.

#writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #subverting expectations #subversion

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bad-as-me · 6 months ago

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Love without Compassion, Compassion without Love

Ok so I wanted to unpack this for a while, but it would be a whole thing to explain and, I'll be honest, the constant hostility from both camps towards the other made me hesitant to make a whole thing about this. But it's been over half a year since sote's release, and the heat has died down enough where I feel comfortable enough to dissect my thoughts as a fan of both of these guys.

tldr: I believe Mohg and Miquella's actions towards one another are meant to mirror each other, because they are inversions of each other's goals.

Full disclosure, this is a culmination of all my general headcanons and interpretations of these characters and their actions. Elden Ring is deliberately vague because it wants you to make up your own mind on what really happened, what matters most to you, things like that. I am not claiming I know the mind of Martin, Miyazaki, and Fromsoft, nor do I think that it would entirely matter if I did.

However, they are still trying to communicate a story with themes at the end of the day, and I find that there is a super common thread in this story around karmic retribution and characters mirroring the actions of another. Mohg and Morgott are an obvious one, as are Miquella and Marika.

But I feel that the intense scrutiny around who the "true victim" was between Mohg and Miquella is completely ignoring the fact that they kind of do unto each other more or less exactly what the other did to them. And I really don't believe that is a coincidence!

We knew in the base game that Mohg stole a sleeping Miquella from his cocoon in the Haligtree. We know he has a penchant for kidnapping people for his service, and that he intended to use Miquella's godhood as an offering to the Formless Mother in his pursuit of Lordship.

We also know the Mohgwyn dynasty is heavily coded in gothic romantic sensibilities. That as Varre tells us, Mohg intends to bless his followers with Love, even if that entails pain and suffering on their part. Mohg is in a lot of ways, a forever open wound: forsaken by his mother for his curse, he only seemed to find respite in the embrace of the outer god known as the Mother of Truth. I think, to Mohg, this idea of love as a painful endeavor is something he operates his entire situation around. He craves love, he craves it especially in maternal figures and people who are in so many aspects, a perfect reincarnation of his own mother. And the painful truth, to him, is that love can only be seized for yourself, and damned be what everyone else thinks of you.

But love is not a kind thing to him. It is a painful, bottomless hole that he is trying to fill for himself. This isn't his fault obviously, it's the result of centuries of abuse and neglect, but that is the fatal flaw of his design that makes him an enemy in our game. He wants a dynasty founded in Love, but without Compassion.

Then we have Miquella, a child of Marika who was surrounded by people who were suffering, but not particularly experiencing that suffering firsthand. He was cursed with eternal childhood, but he was incredibly gifted, and destined to succeed his mother in ascension to godhood. This is his fate, and he knows it's coming no matter what, but either out of a deep sense of care for his sister or just an innocent desire to make everything right, he sets out to make this happen in a way that will somehow fix everything, for everyone.

It's a bold ambition, to be sure. One might say it's a utopian ideal, an impossible ask in a world mired in war and conflict. But Miquella holds this with a deep conviction that could only be manifested in one with a childlike heart, who can't understand just how impossible his own desire really is. He knows of everything his mother accomplished, and in his mind, the only thing that really needs fixing is to just do it right this time.

I'll be honest and say, I don't think Mohg's kidnapping was initially a part of Miquella's plan. I think the track record he already has in seizing people for his own purposes (the albinaurics, the white masks, etc) is enough to believe that he would do it again, and I think it tracks with his general understanding that acceptance is not something that is given to someone like him- it is taken.

Plus, given the understanding that he was bewitched, I just don't like the idea of taking a choice of his that is so central to the events of the game that it is a part of the opening cutscene, and rendering it effectively powerless on Mohg's behalf. I can believe that Mohg's need for an Empyrean body for his goals, meshed with an unhealthy, obsessive need for love from his mother, would translate into jumping the gun and stealing Miquella when everyone is away at the wheel. Love, again, does not come to him out of Compassion, only through force. Unfortunately for him, Miquella is used to failed plans, and knows well how to shift gears and improvise.

Miquella's vow to Radahn happened when they were both fairly young, likely well before Mohg had ever set eye on the vision of a Dynasty in his name. Miquella, forever trapped in the same stage of his life, not only keeps this promise long after it's ever relevant, he incorporates it into his ultimate desire to make everything okay in his new Age.

For the sake of keeping this about only two major characters, I'll keep the Radahn custody situation brief, but in short, Miquella is put in a situation where his promised Lord needs a physical body. And as it so happens, there is a fresh one right in his hands. Someone who also desired for his hand, and the glory of Lordship, but was much too late to be considered for the part.

Miquella's age is one of Compassion. It is so devoted to the idea of endless Compassion, that all other parts of him are shed and made irrelevant. In this endless ambition, powered by centuries of failed plan after failed plan, he starts to forsake so much of himself that the line between "Person" and "Concept" start to blur. He abandons things that should never be forgotten for the sake of a dream. He abandons his Love.

I believe that, in an ill-guided attempt to solve every loose end and satisfy everyone involved, Miquella chose Mohg's body as a vessel out of a "compromise" for Mohg's desires. Radahn may be his destined consort, and Mohg's death may have been made inevitable. However, the wish to be loved and worshipped as Miquella's Lord would still be made his - in body, but not in soul.

Ansbach remarks on the grotesque ritual by saying that "I'm afraid Tender Miquella fails to grasp the humiliation implied by this act." And I am inclined to take him at his word here. Miquella can't understand how this "solution" is an abomination, because the part of him that could have known better is long gone. It is a choice made in Compassion, but not Love.

I hope all of this expresses how much I don't believe anyone in this story deserved their outcome. Rather, their choices are deliberately made to call back to one another. I really do enjoy both Mohg and Miquella as characters at the end of the day, because in so many ways they are mirrors of each other's flaws. Both of them had the intention of using the other's body as a vessel for their own ascension. Neither was right for doing so, but they also had their own reasons for deciding that was what had to be done.

You can't have Love without Compassion, nor Compassion without Love, and that is why they were both doomed to make the same cruel mistakes in their grasp for power.

#so uh. buckle up. this is a long one #mohg #miquella #elden ring lore talk

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trashquisitor-shirozora · 1 year ago

Note

*enables you* what happened with TLJ 👃

After all these years I still can't properly find words to explain how deeply betrayed I felt after the credits rolled and I shuffled out of the movie theater with everybody else. There was a TON of hype surrounding this movie, an absolute fuckton. I only saw positive reviews about it, the cast, the director, the plot. I got excited to see where Rian Johnson & Co. would take the ST.

The only remotely negative comment I saw before watching the movie was a fandom blog saying they didn't like what happened to Poe. Since this blog was about racism in fandom, I knew something was off. That was my only warning.

And y'know, it was like, five minutes in? Ten minutes? And Poe makes a "Yo mama" joke at Hux? I used to go into movies with an open mind and spent days gathering my thoughts about them because I was always slow to react, slow to gather my thoughts into coherent strings of words. It's how I enjoyed Michael Bay productions and JJ Abrams' love affair with lens flare. I never got actively angry with a movie I was watching, and I was fucking angry by the time the movie ended. I still remember texting a friend while standing out in front of the theater because I was so confused. The response to TLJ was so positive so why did I come out of the movie so frustrated and confused and dissatisfied with the whole thing?

It's been years and we all know how this movie divided the Star Wars fandom and just... broke Fandom Spaces in a way I never expected. We all know what TLJ did and didn't do, and how TROS provided the final nail in the coffin that was the ST experiment. But back then, all I saw was positive commentary about the themes and messages of TLJ, how it portrayed failure and the dangers of putting someone like Luke Skywalker on a pedestal, how the Force was female, how... important it was to see Poe get characterized as a hotheaded hotshot who needed to be demoted, slapped around, and stunned in order to learn some kind of lesson, how important it was to see Finn lose everything he gained in TFA so that he could relearn how not to be selfish or something while starring in a fucking incredibly tone-deaf B plot, how Rey... I'm not sure exactly what because she didn't need training anyway and then spent most of her time trying to bring Ben Swolo back to the light????? Rose was so promising as someone who grew up under the FO's thumb but she and Kelly were fucking abandoned by Disney so I don't know if Rose existing was actually a good idea if it meant giving Kelly unending trauma. Mark slipped up by calling Luke "Jake" and expressing his displeasure in front of cameras, and I was so fucking baffled and alienated by his character after knowing how his story ended in ROTJ that I couldn't connect with whatever lessons I and he are supposed to be learning. JJ set up Snoke like a mystery box and Rian just yeeted him off without so much as a fucking explanation so what was the point of that? Hux was a fucking joke. Phasma was barely there. The only character that Rian cared about was fucking Kylo Ren and Adam says years later that he was never supposed to get a redemption arc anyway.

Like, this was the movie everyone hyped up? This was the movie that didn't answer any questions left unasked by TFA and didn't bother to move forward with character development for any of the known characters? I spent money watching a slow space chase that ended on a planet made of salt and killed off Luke for Reasons? Am I stupid? Am I dumb? Am I a peasant incapable of understanding the masterpiece Rian directed, this so-called Best Star Wars Movie Since ESB?

But I couldn't say anything. I couldn't be dogpiled for hating such a empowering movie for women, a diverse and inclusive movie that had the likes of John and Kelly and Oscar. I couldn't be lumped in with the Star Wars dudebros with their raging misogynistic and racist takes on the movie, the cast, Kathleen Kennedy and Lucasfilm, Disney, etc. I couldn't be seen as one of them just because I didn't like a movie that I should like, I'm supposed to like. So I sat in silence, read meta, witnessed the fucking catastrophic explosion around some wild ass AO3 fandom essays written by a racist OG member of OTW about Finn/Poe, saw hate piled on black and bipoc fans, saw r*ylo fans come for John and John clap back at them, just saw an absolute fuckton of hate, and so by the time TROS came around I just... checked out. There was no way JJ could salvage what Rian had done and I was right. TROS was a corporate-run soulless garbage end to the Sequel Trilogy, but it ended just as The Mandalorian finished its first season and regained a lot of good will with this small story about a lonely Mandalorian bounty hunter who encountered a Force-sensitive Baby Yoda.

And then TBOBF/Season 3 of the Mando Show happened, just like how TLJ happened. All the promise, all the unanswered questions of the previous movie/season, all fucking dropped or provided with the worst, most unsatisfying answer. I'm sure others have found better answers and can live with what Star Wars gave us, but I haven't been able to. TLJ came out years and years ago, and I am still so bitter today. I'm still so bitter because TFA had such an incredibly compelling setup with such promising characters, and then TLJ Did That.

I got so heated while writing this. I'm still so mad. I'm still so bitter. I bury my head so deep in the sandbox I built for myself so that I don't have to think how Disney is twisting and contorting all these Mando'verse shows so that they all eventually lead to the ST, their precious hot potato child that just... didn't have to end the way they did if they actually had a fucking plan and fucking stuck the landing. I'll give the MCU this - their Phase 1? They fucking stuck the landing. I fell off the train tracks and haven't really watched the MCU since Captain Marvel, but at least they had a fucking plan and didn't fucking derail themselves like Disney did with the Sequel Trilogy.

I could be nice to people who like this movie but I'm not going to be. They can be nice on their own blogs.

Man, I can't even watch Knives Out or Glass Onion because my blood starts boiling. Just. TLJ did a lot to ruin what I hoped would be a positive and creative connection with Star Wars, and it took the Mando Show and the 2 minutes where Din and Luke locked eyes on the Imperial light cruiser to bring me back.

I'm gonna stop before I get way too heated for sleep.

#shirozora awkwardly responds to asks #anti TLJ #this is 100% a TLJ hate post and blog #i spent so many years holding in my thoughts about this cursed movie #when I say spite fuels me this is what I mean #this is how I find comfort in 'love star wars. wish it was good'#anyway this was the movie that made me feel crazy for years because how could i hate this movie if everyone said it's good #how can a movie be good if all i got from it was confusion and betrayal #time to go art something and calm down before bed

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carpenoctem-if · 1 year ago

Text

Carpe Noctem - Intro Post

DEMO - tba

You are a nobody. A supposedly ordinary human in a world full of powerful beings. Your life is all in all pretty average if not bordering on mind-numbing, like watching paint dry... That is until you were kidnapped and tossed into one especially small carriage to be delivered somewhere only the ancients knew of.

From now on nothing will ever be the same and you need to adapt to the ever-changing outside world as fast as possible. All the while trying to decipher your past and with that your part in an every-growing political conflict that borders to develop into an all out war the world has yet to see.

General content warnings: Bigotry & prejudice, horror elements, interspecies awkwardness, explicit language, depictions of violence, injuries, blood and death, explicit sexual content (if selected), flashbacks of a dark past to unveil, sprinkled with some homophobia here and there & general an unfair treatment of people with disabilities.

FEATURES

-> customizable MC (name, pronouns, appearance, identity)

-> semi-set personality due to evolve (MCs reclusive upbringing forces you to start as someone that's not entirely comfortable with other people and as such you'll be able to choose coping mechanisms your MC will use to compensate such a deficit)

-> 5 characters to romance (3 in book 1, not sure if the other two will follow, they'll probably be fully romanceable in book 2)

-> POVs of the ROs included

-> an open-minded author that is inclined to change some NPCs to fully fledged ROs depending on the general opinion/wishes of readers

-> an emotional roller coaster, all in all nothing for ppl that want a light-hearted theme

-> later on you'll be able to choose part of your race (vampyres, merpeople, demons, shapeshifters, phoenixes -and many more) & with that you can determine and further develop your special skillset. Your heritage will reward you with quite different flavour texts for every possible race there is, so yes. It will matter greatly what you chose. And each of the available races will have disadvantages that could prove quite...fatal in certain situations.

romanceable characters:

the master [Alois|Alice|Alix] (m|f|n) 24 winters

An aloof demeanor at the first glance, A has a cold, strangely shrouded gaze. They're reclusive as fuck, so there isn't much the general population knows about them. Oh. And A is your esteemed master -as if any of you actually want this dynamic... A seems to hate you and your position even more, especially the hidden context it supplies to everyone they meet...

A has almond-shaped silver eyes that always seem distant and unfocused. They have defined cheek bones with mostly soft facial features and quite long, silver hair that is often tied to a simple ponytail. A wears fine dark clothing without other prominent features to despict their wealth.

Content warnings for A's route: denial of feelings aka one of the slowest burns imaginable, domestic violence, implied/referenced rape/non-con, anxiety attacks, self-harm, angst & hurt/comfort

the protector [Leto] (m|f|n) too many to count

Leto is a raven-like creature most would describe as monstrous-looking. They are rarely seen and the few moments they are, death is certain. For many commoners it's enough to see one of Leto's black feathers to warrant a swift escape.

Their past eludes them and you have to wonder - why does some antics of them seem kinda...familiar?

Content warnings for Leto's route: survivor-guilt, body dysphoria, angst, captivity & enslavement, torture, ptsd

the assassin [Zane|Zoey] (m|f) 28 winters

Z is everything their mother wanted them to be. Her own personal weapon. One she is now inclined to use for her vendetta against you.

They have dark brown hair with intelligent hazel green eyes that seem to observe their surroundings constantly. Z was raised with stories about you, stories you know nothing about. How can it be that they seem to know more of you and your family than you yourself?

Should it worry you that they sound extremely resolute in stating their sole purpose is to rid the world of your existance?

Content warnings for Z's route: enemies to frenemies to lovers, eating disorder, alcohol-addiction, a tendency of morbid jealousy, past emotional abuse & manipulation

??? [redacted]

??? [also redacted]

more info tba

Small note of the author:

Everything is slow burn in this - even the character customization, cause I want to add those moments seamlessly into the story.

I tend to take my time. You can expect me to heavily focus on the characters and their feelings, with a slight disregard to describing the environment and such. I work with minimalistic efforts to still give a sense of what I imagine everything to be but with the intention to leave fine details to the reader's own imagination.

I'll try to be considerate of everyone's preferences, especially in the more kinky parts of the story. There'll be versions for more assertive characters as well as more passive one's. Though I should add that the ROs all have their own set of bias that they prefer. However there will be growth throughout the story, including that.

The gravity of your choices will intensify throughout book 1, especially as you get to know the Circle and the Court and every other political hive of intrigue.

And yes. You can die. The ROs can die. Almost everyone will be able to at some point, I guess. Though I don't like the idea of writing a total distopia, don't expect me to change my mind regarding that one that easily.

More infos will be added over time. I'll post lore snippets of my sketchbook soon, like the worldmap, the general outlines of the Circle & the Court, the different races and such.

Asks are welcomed.

#interactive novel #interactive fiction #wip if #choicescript #lgbtqia

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protemporescitor · 1 year ago

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"But she ded tho" (a.k.a. the dumbest argument against Clerith) - A rant

To expand on my previous post, in which I posited the crazy, far-fetched theory that in a fantasy setting mayhap death is not the relationship brick wall that it would be in a more grounded, realistic one*, I just want to bring up a few points to further buttress this off-the-wall notion.

"Cloud can't be with Aerith. She's dead!"

We've all heard it a thousand times. It is the argument most commonly levelled against Clerith. It is also the worst (and laziest) one.

It's often delivered in a declamatory and glib fashion, as though it were some sort of obvious conversation ender. Q.E.D. End of debate. The ultimate gotcha. "Checkmate, Clerith fans!" the haters think to themselves, chortling and patting themselves on their backs for this profound insight. (Insert tasteless and juvenile comments about Aerith being "shish kebab-ed" by Sephiroth as desired.)

And all I can think is "That's it? That's your best argument? That's some weak tea, man."

Despite its myriad flaws, this idea continues to radiate throughout the fandom a good quarter century after the original title's release, as though it had never once been challenged. It is a feeble and untenable position, a house built on sand, and one that deserves to be thoroughly demolished. With Rebirth on the horizon, and all the shipping wars nonsense rising from the grave once more as a result, it is high time, if you'll forgive the expression, that we laid this cliché to rest once and for all.

(*Note: Even in a more "realistic" setting lacking any kind of fictional afterlife, this would still be a gross oversimplification of the story's themes of loss, regret, and yearning, as well as entirely ignoring the idea of love transcending death, but we'll set those concerns aside for the time being.)

Lastly, before we begin: This is not an anti-Zerith / CloTi screed. Those pairings both have an undeniable canonical basis. My aim here is simply to demonstrate that the notion that Cloud and Aerith are forever separated by death is rendered invalid by virtue of the type of setting that their story takes place in. (Something that, frankly, one would reasonably assume to be perfectly obvious. Alas, such is not the case. And so I find myself yet again pointing out the glaringly obvious.)

Now, without further ado, let's begin:

Part 1. Before (the Compilation) Crisis

In the beginning, there was the year 1997, and Squaresoft had just released their latest title. And lo, it was good. We spent days and weeks following our favorite polygon people around their embattled little globe. We fought, laughed, cried, and struggled up until the Meteor Crisis reached its crescendo, and the credits rolled. Gosh, what an ending! But what did it all mean? How did things REALLY turn out? Did we get a happy ending at all?

According to some, Cloud lived happily ever after with his childhood sweetheart, Tifa. According to others, he continued to roam the earth in search of his Promised Land to be reunited with his tragic lost love, Aerith. Yuffie swiped everyone's materia (again). Cid finally went to the moon. Red XIII opened a haberdashery in Costa del Sol, or something. No-one really knows for sure.

And so, the fandom began to spread to every corner of the internet in search of answers. Thus began the age of dissension. Opinions clashed across fanzines, blogs, and fanfic country alike. Wild fan theories abounded pertaining to special codes, methods, and blood rituals capable of bringing back our erstwhile flower girl. The fan-made media bubble surrounding the game turned into a lawless land of misinformation and vicious disagreement. None were spared.

A brief digression on why said rumours persisted for as long as they did (CAUTION: Massive spoilers for Chrono Trigger).

One side proposed a simple solution. A way to cut the proverbial Gordian Knot of our fandom. It was quite obvious, really. Just staring everyone in the face. The flower girl was dead, and that was that. Thus, there was only one possible conclusion to our narrative. Cloud's feelings on the matter were, of course, irrelevant. With Aerith out of the picture, the only logical choice left to him was to settle down with Tifa, and that was that. Never mind the themes of doomed, tragic love and the possibility, strongly hinted at throughout the game and outright confirmed during its ending, of existence after death.

Overall, direct evidence for said afterlife was scant, but not entirely absent from the story. As an example, at one point during her childhood, Aerith speaks to Elmyra, trying to comfort her, saying that the spirit of her husband wanted to come visit her, confirming that an afterlife presence did indeed exist. But for some, this simply wasn't evidence enough. And so the war raged on. Which brings us to…

Part 2. Advent Children: The smoking gun

Remember back when a certain portion of the fan base insisted that Gaia erased all the humans at the end of the story, on the flimsy basis that we don't see any during the game's brief post-credit scene? Well, that little theory was neatly undone by subsequent releases in the Compilation, showing regular ol' humans still roaming around Gaia in all their everyday human-ness. Hence, it is rarely brought up these days. Would that the pernicious notion of "but she ded tho" could follow in its footsteps, given that the same film roundly contradicts it in every way possible.

For starters, the film inexplicably bring two characters, Rufus and Tseng, hitherto assumed to be dead, back to life, probably in an effort by Square to shoehorn as many recognizable members of the cast into their animated feature as they could. But that's not all. Next we have three characters that everyone agreed were deader than doornails ALSO making appearances, first in flashbacks, and then directly influencing the world of the living. Zack speaks to and encourages Cloud during his struggle. Aerith reaches out to him (quite literally) from beyond the grave and assists him in defeating Bahamut. And of course Sephiroth pops back into existence just in time for his contractually-obligated boss fight near the end of the film. All three demonstrate quite clearly and definitively that death is not the impenetrable barrier to continuing interactions between the living and the dead in the world of Final Fantasy VII, as a certain segment of the fan base would have everyone believe it is.

To be blunt, I don't know what level of dense you'd have to be to keep up this so-called "argument" in light of this information. Advent Children reiterates what most of us already knew, that our story takes place in a fantasy setting* with a confirmed afterlife existence.

(*You'd think that the name of the series would clue people in.)

The notion that death represents, within the context of said setting, the ultimate end was already softly contradicted by the original game's narrative, and then (because that was apparently too subtle for some people) flat-out annihilated by the existence and events of Advent Children. It should have long since ended this nonsense. But somehow, it didn't. These revelations, obvious though they are, remain ignored for some reason. And so, the cycle of willful ignorance continues.

But we're not done yet. We now move on to more tangential, but still relevant arguments against this line of "reasoning".

Part 3. Stop Hitting Yourself: Why "but she ded tho" is insulting to everyone

And I do mean everyone. Let's examine this, shall we?

It's insulting to Cloud.

To suggest that he loses interest in Aerith the moment she sinks beneath the waters, or that he is obligated to move on simply because she is no longer among the living, with no mourning period, no time to work through his guilt and grief, is to portray him as shallow and uncaring, something that goes against virtually all the characterization that he's been given throughout the story. The line of thinking apparently goes "Well, she's gone. That sucks. She was cute, too. Better move on to the next available piece of meat."

Sounds pretty gross when you write the quiet part out loud, doesn't it?

It's insulting to Aerith.

"Didn't even toss the b@#h a Phoenix Down, just dumped'er in the water LAWL"

I'm sure you've all come across comments like that at some point, usually originating from some errant redditor or blogger. Thinking themselves fine fellows and enlightened, above-it-all gadflies, they provide us at length with this and other prime specimens of 14 year-old internet edgelord "humour" that carries about as much edge as a perfect sphere. Remarks like these serve little purpose beyond confirming my suspicion that our fandom is indeed plagued with illiterates who can't tell the difference between the terms "revive" and "resurrect", and insist on conflating game mechanics with storytelling. And you wonder why some people are confounded by words like "flammable" and "inflammable".

(All right, I'll put the salt down. For now.)

"The party's designated white mage dies, oh no, that's so sad, boo-hoo, life goes on," I hear you say.

But boiling Aerith's role down to one of merely that of a temporary party member who kicks the bucket halfway through the story, never to be heard from again, both cheapens her purpose within the larger narrative and denies the clear effect that she continues to exert, directly and indirectly, on it and the other characters after her passing.

Though Aerith may have departed the world of the living, the story makes it abundantly clear that her influence on it has not ended. There are hints here and there that she still tries to assist her friends from the afterlife. As an example, when the party rediscovers Cloud in Mideel after assuming that he might be lost for good, a villager sums it up best with the following remark: "That boy must have one hell of a guardian angel."

It's only mentioned as a vague hint in the original story, but it is clear that some beneficent force is acting on Cloud and Tifa's behalf, aiding them in their survival and uniting them in the Lifestream in order to help Cloud recover his memories. Later supplemental material confirms that to have been Aerith's doing. If that's not enough to convince you, though, the original game's ending leaves little room for ambiguity as to Aerith's continuing influence. When Holy sputters and fails, she coaxes the Lifestream itself to intervene, burning away the calamitous meteorite, helping her friends put an end to the planetary crisis long after her own demise. I suppose the lesson here for silver-haired godhead wannabe villains is this: Strike her down, and she shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.

So the idea that Aerith's participation in the story immediately comes grinding to a halt upon her death is both puerile and easily demonstrated to be false. But even if that were the case, downplaying her lingering influence on Cloud and the other characters in this manner would still be ignoring the creators' intent. Whether one interprets Cloud and Aerith's relationship as romantic or merely platonic, it is clear that her death, the loss of one of his closest allies, is something that wounds him deeply, and scars him forever. Two years on, he still pines for her company and desires her forgiveness for his perceived failures. She clearly occupies a special place in his heart, and her memory and legacy live on within him, spurring him on as he wanders the planet, searching for some way to meet her again, defying the impossible. (Which, as we all know, isn't going to happen. This is, after all, Final Gritty Reality we're talking about here.)

Ah, but all of this is a moot point, you say? Even if he did wish to be with her, preferring the company of the last Cetra over that of his childhood friend… well, too bad. That's no longer an option. We can spout all of this verbiage about "soul pain" this and "star-crossed lovers" that, but at the end of the day, Aerith is still dead, and that's that. At least, that's what ardent CloTi fans will insist, no matter what. So, what is Tifa to Cloud, then, by their own logic?

Which brings us to perhaps our most salient, and most overlooked point, at least as far as CloTi shippers are concerned. If all that wasn't enough for you, you may want to consider that it's deeply insulting to Tifa, as well. Grievously so, in fact. Quite possibly more so than any other character in this whole equation. And the reason why should be plain as day if you stop to think about it for a fraction of a second.

Here's the thing… if you can't articulate why you think Cloud would prefer to be with Tifa in spite of Aerith being alive, then you are essentially declaring her the "winner" by default on no other merits than the fact that she's still sucking down air. Stating "but she ded bro" means relegating Tifa to the role of a consolation prize. I don't think I could ever hurl such a staggering insult towards her as her biggest fans keep doing, without even realizing they're doing it.

Ask yourselves, is that really what you want for your supposed favourite character? To frame her as being doomed to eternally play second fiddle to her fallen friend? Cloud's "plan B"? The "side piece"? Someone who only stands a chance if her rival in love is literally six feet under? I'm sure she'd be thrilled by the high regard in which her own fans seem to hold her. (Hey, you said it, not me. It's not my fault if you don't take the time to actually consider the ramifications of what rolls off your keyboard. But by all means, keep insulting your own favorite character just to put down a ship you don't like.)

In closing, if we unearth the subtext and reframe it to highlight what people are, in essence, saying, it's this: "It's a good thing that she-who-shall-not-be-named bit the dust, because otherwise our beloved Best Girl Tifa (tm) wouldn't stand a chance."

It's a simple enough question: Why do you think that Cloud and Tifa belong together? What, in your mind, makes them a good fit for each other?

"Well, the competish is dead." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Not exactly a ringing endorsement for your best girl, now is it?

Part 4. "Heads, I Win. Tails, You Lose": A brief word on hypocrisy

In fandom, it's often the loudest and most obnoxious voices who tend to drown out the more reasonable ones, those of fans who are just minding their own business and grooving on the thing that they like. Which, unfortunately, renders this next part a necessary component of the greater argument that I'm trying to make. Multishippers and sane, reasonable CloTi and Zerith fans may consider themselves exempted from the following harangue.

The rest of y'all, buckle up.

The too-oft repeated refrain of "but she ded tho" entails a twofold hypocrisy. The first part is:

Case of Tifa: Fan hypocrisy regarding death.

Strident anti-Clerith fans, with their usual level of maturity, will often bring up Aerith's demise in a gleeful, mocking tone that can best be summed up as "ding dong, the witch is dead!" And if the shoe were on the other foot? If their Best Girl Tifa (tm) were the one pushing up daisies instead of Miz Gainsborough? Would they be quite so cavalier in their attitudes?

Who wants to bet that these fans wouldn't be making this "argument" so loudly if it was their ship that was in question? Consider this scenario: Suppose that the remake trilogy does the unthinkable and has Tifa die in Aerith's place. What then? Would they accept that "but she ded tho" is, at best, a double-edged sword, one that applies equally to their own favourite ship were their fortunes to be reversed?

Something tells me that's not the case.

But if you think that's hypocritical, you ain't seen nothing yet. This first point pales in comparison to…

The Zerith Exemption: Fan hypocrisy regarding the afterlife.

You know what my favourite thing about this whole debacle is? When people inform me that because they are separated by death, Cloud and Aerith have no hope of ever being together again. They will then unironically pivot to shipping Zack and Aerith, two characters who are together in the MOTHERFUCKING AFTERLIFE.

It's wild. How do you even compress that much cognitive dissonance into one skull? We're talking about mind-melting, Olympic medal-worthy levels of mental gymnastics here.

Now, before someone accuses me of being morose, I'm not suggesting that Cloud hop off the nearest cliff just to be with his beloved (Aerith would not approve of him throwing his life away, for one), just that when he reaches the end of his natural life (which may not be too long, given the cells eating away at his body), he can finally be reunited with her in the afterlife.

Many ardent CloTi shippers see themselves as bound by law to uphold Zerith as a shield against the dreaded Clerith plague. But to proclaim, implicitly or explicitly, that the afterlife encompasses one but not the other is not an idea that can be taken seriously. It remains an utterly bizarre blind spot, one that beggars belief.

On a related note, there is the infamous misconception that is…

Part 5. The ZaCloud Fallacy

While this is not directly related to my main point, I nonetheless find myself compelled to address this issue. There is a long-standing confusion that bedevils our fandom, one that has its roots in the Shipping Wars (tm). I am, of course, referring to the ZaCloud Fallacy.

We owe this particular misapprehension to Crisis Core, a prequel/gaiden game that was released ten years after the original FFVII. Already, its existence can mess up the timeline, so to speak, as, strangely, people tend to treat it as a sequel rather than a prequel, and as though it were adding new and vital building blocks to the world of FFVII instead of merely distorting the original story while retreading it with a far less interesting cast of characters. It also retcons major elements of the original story that it shouldn't have (such as the events taking place in Nibelheim five years prior to the main narrative), lazily steals Clerith scenes only to rehash them with Zack and Aerith, and forces players to endure, at length, crimes against literature, courtesy of Genesis.

It's an odd prequel, to say the least, given how heavily it relies on the original story for context. Sequentially, it may take place before FFVII, but it can only be fully appreciated with the original in mind; it cannot be treated as a stand-alone story. The worst thing about Crisis Core existing is that playing it first can outright ruin people's perception of the original narrative by spoiling several major plot elements and even lessening them in the process. Crisis Core's writers are especially guilty of cheapening dramatic moments like Zack's last stand by transforming it from a quiet, tragic, harrowing scene about sacrifice to an utterly over-the-top and emotionally overwrought trainwreck. It all merely serves to add to the confusion, especially for gamers who started with this title instead of the original.

But if that were not enough, Crisis Core's reckless meddling with the story combined with the acrimonious and all-consuming nature of the shipping wars has resulted in one of the most nonsensical misconceptions in the entire fandom. During Crisis Core's ending, Zack implores Cloud to carry on his legacy, thus giving rise to the erroneous assumption that Cloud's behaviour in disc 1 is merely that of him "being Zack". Clerith-hating fans, in particular, pounced on this idea as a way to put a safe distance between him and Aerith, characterizing their interactions, whether platonic or romantic, as merely a case of Cloud utilizing Zack's memories and personality around her (Never mind that Zack and Cloud's personalities are as different as night and day).

It is a fundamental and willful misreading of the story, a gross oversimplification of a more complex and granular truth in service of a fan-originated meta-narrative, one that has been assembled in order to reach the conclusion that Cloud and Aerith's relationship is null and void, and that therefore the romance between him and Tifa remains unchallenged. (Never mind that the story is intended as more than just some playground tug-of-war romance). To maintain this lie is to do violence to the story by destroying Cloud's character arc and reducing him to a virtual non-entity until the very end of the game.

Having already been rebuked in regards to this pervasive delusion, certain fans have tried to hedge their bets by suggesting a second, more advanced version of this idea. ZaCloud Fallacy 2.0, if you will, which states that Cloud is only in Zack Mode (tm) when he's around Aerith. I don't even know what to say about that sort of nonsense. To paraphrase Charles Babbage, I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such an assertion.

I'd go into this in more detail, but YouTube creator LinkOnTheBrink has already covered this topic extensively in their superlative video essay "How Shipping Can Ruin a Narrative".

It may seem like I'm trashing Zack or Zerith here, but I'm really not. That was never my intent. So let me be clear about this: I like Zack. I just hate Crisis Core and what it's done to this fandom. If you prefer CloTi and Zerith to everything else, I don't much mind. Ultimately, this isn't about shipping wars nonsense, but protecting the narrative from such nonsense.

And that leads us to…

Part 6. I Against I: Where the fandom went wrong

We all know that the infamous FFVII Shipping Wars (tm) are as stupid as they are inescapable. Anyone who's spent any time at all within this fandom has inevitably run afoul of them and their detritus at some point, whether they've chosen to participate in them or abstain from the whole debacle. But there's a reason why this acrimonious dispute has raged on for as long as it has. Much like Blade Runner fans would argue until they were blue in the face about whether or not Deckard was a replicant, fans of this story have been squabbling about CloTi versus Clerith for ages for similar reasons. (Zerith got roped in as a "political wedge", I would argue, as much as a pairing in its own right.)

It's more than just a war over shipping, it's a war over canonization, over character motivation and psychology. Of how we ultimately interpret the story and its characters. Given the vagueness of the story's ending, one can't help but wonder and speculate as to how everyone ended up afterwards. (Advent Children and Dirge of Cerberus may have offered some answers, but they still largely sidestep these questions in a noncommittal, to-be-continued manner.)

The problem is that, for many fans, it isn't possible to simply say "It's my preference" and be done with the matter. Unlike most rarepairs and bananas pairings like Cait x Jenova, CloTi and Clerith remain hotly contested because they go beyond mere shipping, or even aesthetic preference, or which characters one most identifies with; they lie at the core of how we perceive the story and its inhabitants. In that sense, I don't consider it to be an entirely frivolous debate, just an unsolvable one.

So, what's the answer?

There's this long-standing piece of received wisdom about JRPGs vs. WRPGs, where the latter involves more freedom at the expense of focused storytelling, and vice versa. This idea might hold true to some extent, but it is not some iron law that must be obeyed without question. For a game like FFVII, choices that radically affect the narrative structure would be considered an aberration and not the norm. And yet, it might represent the only way out of this quagmire that doesn't involve throwing half the fandom under the bus in the process.

For me, Mass Effect and similar titles (e.g., Quest for Glory) have already presented an obvious solution: Let the players choose. (There is already some precedent in the form of the Gold Saucer scene, although it ultimately doesn't change the outcome of the story all that much.) It may not be a perfect solution, but I'd argue that it's far better than leaving one side out in the cold. At least this way, everyone gets something.

"Ah, but this is not feasible," I hear you respond. "Not for an Eastern-style RPG, at least. Only one of these pairings can be correct, and one must, above all, respect the creator's vision."

Yeah, look where that got us.

Part 7. As You Like It: Ship whatever you please (just stop this nonsense)

I realize that this little essay of mine has been digressive, rudimentary, rambling, extemporaneous, and scattershot. So let me try to reach some kind of meaningful conclusion here.

Much of this anti-Clerith rhetoric we've seen over the years seems to stem from a place of insecurity, whether it's murmuring "but she ded tho", claiming that Cloud was only ever Zack in disc 1, inventing a fictional sex scene underneath the Highwind from whole cloth, and so on… The thing is, there is no need for it. Clerith and CloTi both exist canonically. Even the game manual says as much, describing Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith's relationship as a love triangle. In other words, the love triangle is what's canon, and the rest is by and large up for interpretation. (Zerith also canonically exists, and we've known this since the OG.)

The true reason why this whole disagreement has gone on for eternity, I suspect, has less to do with any debate over canonicity alone than it does the sheer enmity and pettiness that it has continued to spark for so long. It has metastasized over the years, going from being a mere squabble over which pair is canon to an exercise in holding the other side in contempt. That endless cycle of disrespect and reprisals is undoubtedly where it all went wrong in the first place. (If I had a nickel for every time someone commented "but she ded tho" or "wHy iS zAcK bLoNd iN tHiS pIc?" when someone posts a piece of Clerith fan art, I'd have a pretty nice collection of coins by now.)

Obviously, we should all try to just click off when we encounter content that we dislike, but it's not always easy, especially when something we harbour a strong aversion to is so deeply enmeshed within something that we do enjoy. And so, our fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. Before you ask, yes, I'm as guilty of that as anyone else.

Still, I firmly believe that the occasional olive branch can go a long way. So let me simply say that I have the utmost respect for Tifa and Zack. They are worthy characters in their own right. So create and share all the CloTi/Zerith fan works your little hearts desire. Hire a fleet of skywriters to declare Zerith your favourite couple. Throw a giant CloTi parade through the middle of Times Square. We don't mind. Honestly.

As stated above, whether it's CloTi, Clerith, or Zerith, you can stop fretting over which one is canon; they all are. The other three permutations (Zakkura, Zifa, AerTi) don't get much in the way of canon acknowledgement, but they probably should at this point.

In the end, this is about saving the narrative from the shipping wars, as much as anything else. To say that you prefer CloTi or something else to Clerith is fine. To assert that Clerith doesn't exist in any form, however, is where I begin to take exception.

Ultimately, I say ship what you like. All I ask is that you retire this sort of narrative-wasting nonsense. It's time we threw it into the garbage can of gaming history where it belongs. As for questions of motives, character interpretation, canonization, and so forth… if we cannot reach an accord, then let us at least try for a more amicable disagreement.

As for my fellow Clerith supporters, the next time you see the withered old canard that is "but she ded tho" being bandied about in the wild, feel free to laugh and treat it with the derision and contempt that it so richly deserves.

#final fantasy vii #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #final fantasy vii rebirth #final fantasy 7 remake #clerith #cloud x aerith #rant #final gritty reality #but she ded tho #spoilers

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legendofmorons · 4 months ago

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Do you ever think about selkies? The seals who can take off their fur coats and be human for as long as they want before putting their coats back on and going back to the sea? I do.

Animal brides are common in mythology and tall tales. I think they are fascinating, often removing a coat of some variety to be human and going back.

My mother loved the sea. She was always more graceful in water than on land. The Scottish selkies hold a special place in my heart because of that. It makes me wonder what type of animal each of our beloveds would end up with if they were from these stories.

Four-

Affectionately, this man gets to be a Rat. They are really affectionate animals as well as incredibly social. They move in groups and are very playful. It just feels right, you know? Also, they are really smart but people do not think of them that way.

Hyrule-

Have you ever seen an Elk? Majestic right? Have you ever heard them vocalize? It’s not a sound you would think would come from so strong a creature. I think these animals are truly faelike in nature, gorgeous things that will draw you in and… you probably wouldn't survive. Also, I think Hyrule would look amazing with a set of antlers on him.

Legend-

Is it mean of me to say Bunny? I’m saying it anyway. Mans is a Rabbit. A menace to society? Absolutely. Stomping when unhappy? You betcha. Adorable? Shockingly, yes.

Sky-

I mean… he kinda has to have a Loftwing. It is part of his soul, after all. And the theme of a big bird works well for him. In terms of a real life equivalent, I think a Shoebill Stork would fit fairly well. Large, rather silly looking birds that are probably genuinely just dinosaurs.

Twilight-

I bet you think I am going to say Wolf, right? well… I am going to say no to that. This man is a Goat. Probably his beloved Ordonian Goat. He is from the place, about as determined as one, and I think the only thing stopping him from eating a tin can for funsies is his general decorum.

Time-

Here is where the actual Wolf comes into play. There wasn’t any imagery of the wolf in either of his games, sure, but you know what did happen? The Shade became a golden wolf. I think he gets to keep that animal. It’s his now.

Warriors-

Hear me out here: a Snake. Snakes are perceived as conniving by many, they are also gorgeous creatures. Due to his bright colors and vibrant personality, I think he would be a Viper of some variety, showing off his venom through the coloration of his clothes and scales.

Wild-

Coyotes are wild animals who have been trying to domesticate themselves for years. If you raise a pup to adulthood, it may behave like a dog would for you. It’s different, sure, but it’s also the same. Wild is… wild. But he is also tame. He would rescue his Zelda over and over again, even though he doesn’t, or didn’t, remember her.

Wind-

I think Wind is chaotic enough and surrounded by enough water consistently to earn the title of the Seal. Gorgeous creatures, really silly and cleaver and… oh Hylia, he is a Leopard Seal. Adorable from afar but you do not want to be on his bad side. He has sharp teeth and he knows how and when to use them.

BONUS ROUND:

First-

There isn’t a doubt in my mind that this man is a Lion. I don’t know if I even need to elaborate, but he is the original Link. The first person with this soul that ended up being passed down for generations. You think he isn’t a Lion? No way.

Fierce-

He is an Owl. I don’t think there is anything I can say other than many different cultures associate owls with war and battle. This is a war god. He is an Owl.

Malon-

That woman is ferociously protective of the people she considers hers. I think she is a Grizzly Bear. Terrifying creature ready to do anything to keep her loved ones safe and also so very friend shaped.

Marin-

I am stuck between two. Either, she is the original gorgeous Swan that no one gets to keep because… she is a Swan, or she is a Seagull. A bird who wants to fly away and realistically can, but stays on this island with a consistent food source. You can befriend her, but you can’t keep her.

-VS Anon

Okay first of all, I DO think about Selkies. Folklore of all kinds has always been something I love, but my family is Appalachian and Celtic (sorta the same but that's a story for later) so I am especially fond of things up the vein of fae and selkies.

Second of all you're so right I love all of this especially Wars being a Viper!

I read all of your reasoning and it's amazing!

Also I think Wind has baby seal eyes anyway.

I think Marin would be a seagull, though instead of a swan.

#misty answers #vs annon #selkies #lu chain

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xxbanditoxx · 7 months ago

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I'm excited to announce that I'm working on a short animatic film for a class!! The film is called "You Octo Be" and it is heavily inspired by the Splatoon Manga/Coroika but a bit more serious about emotions and stuff. Well maybe some goofy moments but I'm still planning stuff out.

Here's some doodles of the good guys feat. me and my friends octos. @/Sawdusst's octoling included lol :

And the design of the bad guys/enemy team:

The story layout I have planned out:

Opening Image – The film starts with a shot of the setting (Splatsville). The main protagonist, Excla, and her teammates, Sawdust, Bullram, and Salem are introduced.

Set-up – They each have their conversation relating to turf wars, but Excla seems to be reserved about sharing her experience in battle.

Theme Stated – Excla wishes that she could improve her skills but needs to find a way to gain that courage and confidence in battle.

Catalyst – The enemy team gets introduced into the story (Jagger and his teammates, Blazer, Cassandra, and Punk) and it is revealed how they are known for humiliating and breaking others’ self-esteem in battles. As a result, turf wars are becoming uncommon due to the fear of encountering this team, but Excla's teammates decide that they must stop the enemy team and confront them in a round of turf war.

Debate – Before challenging the enemy team, Excla debates if she wants to confront the enemy team or not due to fear and lack of confidence in herself.

Break Into Two – Excla’s teammates try to encourage her that they will do their best and be there to support each other along the way. She finally gets convinced and decides to confront the enemy team.

Midpoint – As the turf war battle begins, Excla’s team start painting the turf with ease and quickly cover ground. Her teammates were guaranteed that they would win this, but Excla senses that something is off.

Bad Guys Close In – Suddenly, the enemy team pops out of nowhere to take down Excla and her teammates, giving the enemy team an opportunity to quickly paint turf, push the team back, and surround Excla’s team back into their starting point.

All is lost – Nearing the final minute of battle, Excla notices how the enemy team painted much of the turf in a short amount of time and sees how their skills are superior to hers and her team making her and her team feel hopeless.

Dark Knight of the Soul - She hesitates for a while and starts thinking negatively. She starts to blame herself for not being good enough in battle and how she regrets fighting against Jagger and his team.

Break Into Three – Even as the team are in a tight situation, her teammates do not give up easily. Excla sees the determination of her team which inspires her to become determined, gain confidence and work together as a team.

Finale - Excla becomes confident and improves her fighting skills. She and her team finally make a comeback and defeat the enemy team during the last second of battle.

Final Image - During the post battle, Excla and her team celebrate, and they talk about the battle they just had. Excla is now happier and more confident in turf wars. Splatsville is now livelier than ever after the defeat of Jagger and his team.

I'll try to upload the animatic on here once it's done. I may share the storyboard as well not sure yet. RN it's a WIP

#splatoon #my ocs #my octoling #friend's octoling #inkling #octoling #my doodles #college project #film project

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the-witch-of-the-wandering-ways · 10 months ago

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When i was younger and my brother still lived with us i would sometimes go to him asking for piano improvisations based on different themes i would give him. Often times this would be based on my OCs or scenes from my "story i will someday totally write but for now daydream about and monologue to my siblings". It was nice to sit back, eyes closed, imagining the action with my own background original soundtrack. He was pretty good at it too.

He was the first one to leave home as he went to uni, and he was the only one to never really come back to live with my parents at any point. He was never really the easiest to communicate with and being away didn't make things much smoother.

However, every year, on our birthdays, we will compose songs for us. He knows what we like, so he always crafts them based on our preferences. He knows I'm a sucker for a repeating melody, for violin and piano sounding sounds, he knows I dream of vocals and man he's come close. My sister is all about rhythm and a bit more electronic. One year we collaborated and I made a moving backdrop to his song for her (which also included audio from Kermit the frog in the background... it kinda worked ngl).

He's been working on a game for some time (you know, if being a talented mathemagician and musician wasn't enough) and even though we are definitely not the target audience (it's a rythm game and man i suck at anything that requires reflexes) he kept asking us for feedback every step of the way. He made it very clear that even though the game has a very high skill ceiling he wants to make sure "even mum can play it".

For context, my mum is first adorable and also she's an og gamer. As in, she got carpal tunnel from playing too much tetris when she was younger. Now she loves playing overcooked and animal crossing with us but she get a bit overwhelmed with more complex games (she's just like me frfr).

It came out today! I bought it (he did offer me a key but I kinda couldn't be bothered and also he was one of the first people to but from my Redbubble so i gotta do what i gotta do). I started playing it. Immediately changed my settings to four keys maximum because i was honest with myself. Actually, that's a lie, the first thing i did was change the colours because that's the kind of person i am. Started playing, really loved the first song, quickly realised another one was waaaay out my league, liked another one. Tell my bro, he says "oh you should also check out Bi Katuak, I think it's your birthday song" I check it out, love it but doesn't ring that much of a bell but now that I am on the second page i see it

La Danza del Fenix

Immediately i am transported back, i imagine Amanda, the character, riddled by anxiety and regret, that i then thought i related to the least but have since then came to realise portrayed very accurate parts of me, dancing surrounded by fire in a joyous way for the first time, the freedom, how her daughter will dance at a ball carefree and excited on what will be the real proof that war and tragedy is over

My brother only gives side hugs and half smiles

It's an easy song. With a lovely repeating melody that makes me want to dance around as I play it even if that makes me make mistakes. You're not penalised for mistakes, you can only see your records get higher. The songs never end unless you want them to, and yet they don't loop in any obvious way (something to do with the algorhythm he kept trying to explain but I kind of gave up understanding at some point.

This game may be for you if you like music, rhythm games, or just videogames in general. Though in a way I am sure it will never be for you in the way it was made for me.

It's called EnternAlgoRythm Give it a shot! There is pretty much nothing you can't customise in terms of gameplay and cosmetics and if there's anything you notice you can tell him and he'll do his very best to fix it or improve it. There are plenty of songs for any skill level (some i dare not even touch) and the songs are named in different languages based on the countries we have lived in/had influence from. My favourites are the aforementioned Danza del Fenix, Bi Katuak (defs also made for me, it's an easy cat themed song), Violet Voyage, and Ingranaggi Striscianti.

TLDR: im very emotional pls go play my brother's game

#i love this game #video games #rhythm game #gamer #touhou #touhou project #idk what else to tag #just give it a shot if you're at all interested #video game recommendations #video game review #eternalgorythm #agecaf #indie games #indie video games #music #music stuff #piano improvisation #oc #my ocs

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ankhmutes · 1 year ago

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We Love You, 1952 : M*A*S*H*

I was watching MASH and on Tumblr, aimlessly scrolling when a mutual somewhere posted something about this episode, and I posted something, and I figured I should actually WRITE something instead of babble about it. SO I did a thing. It took me a couple weeks with some last minute help from the amazing @caffiene-fueled-fuckery without this person I doubt this would have turned out as lovely as it is.

and some nice art too, I got inspired (ish) it's not my best work but I kind of like it.

No warnings, really, just mentions of war. Faint allusions of shipping Hawkeye with a variety of people, so I guess if you squint, Hawkeye could be shipped with anyone but I do fly the flag of Hawkcahy quite high.

The theme music filled the air as hundreds of thousands of households gathered in front of the television. In Eight houses, however, there was an extra air of anticipation. The station had hinted that a MASH unit was going to be interviewed, and all those households had their fingers crossed for it to be 4077th. The chatter in every house hushed, until the voice of Clete Roberts filled the room.

“Good evening. This is Korea, October 9, 1952. I’m Clete Roberts, and I am speaking to you from the recovery room of the mobile Surgical hospital, A MASH.”

Eyes moved from Clete, scanning the background for anything familiar. No one recognized any person, only bodies of nurses flitting around in the background, and drab surroundings. Clete’s voice echoed through eight households, and hearts skipped beats as he continued to speak.

“The fighting began out here two years ago, and in spite of the ongoing peace talks, an end seems nowhere in sight. This isn’t the first time we’ve been to this particular unit, but we’ve returned because of its record of efficiency, and the people who make that record are a truly unique story.

“Doctor? Could I bother you for a second? “

“Sure, set up a tray and I’ll remove the sutures, okay?” A stoop-shouldered doctor spoke, his dark hair glinting in the light and his heavy-lidded eyes ringed with dark circles. In Maine, an older man inhaled sharply, nearly choking on his cider. It had been years since he had laid eyes on his son, and the boy was before him. He saw the little boy in the tired, haggard doctor as the name flashed on the screen.

Capt. B.F. Pierce

Surgeon

Daniel chuckled as he saw his son slip the stethoscope in his pocket, knowing the boy wasn’t quite paying attention. He drank his cider slowly, savoring the sound of his boy’s voice.

“As a Practicing surgeon, how do you cope with these Unusual circumstances?” Clete spoke in his strong voice. Daniel leaned closer, his eyes unflinching as he heard his son speak.

“Well, usually I just, uh, turn my mind off and hope it’ll all go away.” Daniel let out a long sigh, watching Hakweye gaze off into the distance. He knew those rough times, especially after his wife had died which made Hawkeye retreat into himself. “That, uh, doesn’t uh, seem to work, though, so most times you just, uh…” the man shrugs, “do your job and try to forget that there’s a war going on outside the window.”

Somewhere in Hannibal, Missouri, a steel-eyed and silver-haired woman smiled gently as the camera changed from the sad-eyed boy she had read about in numerous letters, to the face she had cherished for over forty years. Her Sherman. Her heart fluttered as she saw the words on the screen, floating under her husband’s tired, tired face. She knew that face, it was the face she had seen on numerous sleepless nights, when one of the children wouldn’t go to bed, or one of those nights where he had an ornery patient. It was a face she knew that wouldn’t go away for a long while. She could see the pride in his eyes.

COL. SHERMAN POTTER

Commanding Officer

The slim man shook his head tiredly, and Mildred put her hand over her heart, almost an echo of her husband’s visage as she listened to his voice soothing her tired heart

“I’ve seen the casualty reports, and the number of wounded men that pass through here is staggering.” Clete sat across from Sherman, leaning forward in concentration. Mildred smiled with gentle sadness, knowing what her husband’s reply would be, she had heard him answer that question countless times, and his letters showed his frustration with the sheer volume of patients that had gone through their camp.

“Yeah, we’ve got enough clientele here to open a hospital.” Mildred smiled as Sherman fiddled with the nameplate, recognizing the discomfort; not with the question, but with the situation. “Makes for some long sessions in O.R. I’ve seen surgeons so tired they almost fell asleep on their patients.” Mildred leaned back in her chair, pulling a quilt closer to her as if she could feel Sherman in the chair near her, but his blanket still lay neatly folded in the seat. Her attention returned to the screen, now showing a young man that brought a bright smile to her face, recalling her husband’s latest letter inquiring about some patterns to be sent to–

CPL. M. KLINGER

Corpsman

Arabic chatter immediately quieted, as many sets of eyes were glued on the TV, the sizzling smell of sausages mingling with strong onions and the sweetness of cardamom in the air. Abdul leaned against his sister, whispering in her ear and translating the English, but everyone knew the Klinger name. It was no doubt their loved one, Max, on the screen, everyone relishing his beaming countenance.

“What’s your most difficult problem here?” Clete leaned over to Max, who was holding on to a broom, shifting slightly as he spoke, Abdul pausing to let his sister hear her son’s voice, knowing she could sense more than just words, through his voice and facial expression.

“Well, uh, for me, the toughest is getting used to doing things the army way.” Laughter broke out among the Klingers, light chatter and swatches of fabric being tossed around. “You see, back home in Toledo, when we needed something, we just stole it—-borrowed it.” Abdul shook his head and laughed, as his sister wept and put her hand on the TV, cradling her son’s face through the screen.

The Grange hall in Iowa erupted with excitement and shushing, as the bespectacled young man appeared on screen, some flashes erupting through the hall as people took photos of the TV set with the name on the screen.

CPL W. O’REILLY

Company Clerk

Uncle Ed beamed with pride, holding his sister close to him as she wept openly into a plaid handkerchief. A girl in a blue gingham dress hollered with excitement, shoving a boy next to her for a place right in front of the TV, leaning in close to hear.

“You know, back in Iowa, if you wanted somethin’ all you had to do was ask for it.” The crowd all nodded in approval. “But, I mean, wow. Over here, they got, uh, paperwork and requisitions for everything.” Grumbles broke out among the older men, reminiscing about their own experiences in the service during one of the Great Wars. Shushes filled the room as the screen changed.

Daniel Pierce chuckled as he put down his glass, putting aside his plate and tray as he leaned back in his easy chair to listen some more, his eyes immediately latching on to the lean frame of his son as he leaned on a desk in a recovery ward. Daniel recognized the kind of room, and smiled as he listened to the younger man speak. In his mind’s eye, he saw the toothy smile of Hawkeye’s, dressed in his own medical coat, trying to give the cat a medical exam.

“What do you miss the most?” Daniel wanted to swat the microphone out of the reporter’s face, but chose to sigh and lean forward, his hands on his bony knees.

“Well, just offhand I’d say, uh, uh,” Daniel frowned, he knew his son must be exhausted, but this was a new reach. “A mattress thicker than a matzo…” Daniel snorted in amusement, his smile mirroring his own son’s. “...my own bathroom with a combination lock… any woman out of any uniform.. “ Daniel rolled his eyes and smirked. “...and the entire state of maine.”

‘I miss you too, son,’ Daniel mouthed quietly as the old man who was Hawkeye’s superior appeared on screen. Daniel was grateful for a man like Sherman Potter. Hawk really needed someone to keep him in line, and Sherman didn’t seem one to take too much crap, but still give him enough room to cause chaos without hurting anyone. Too much.

Mildred remained curled up in her seat, her eyes fastened on the screen with intense concentration once Sherman came on again, burying her face in his blanket. She could swear she still smelled his aftershave.

“Well, I miss playing spoons with my wife.”

“Playing spoons? I don’t understand.” Mildred giggled loudly, blushing and feeling like a schoolgirl all over again. “You mean music?”

“No.” Sherman smiled, his hands moving up slightly. “You cuddle up together like two spoons in a drawer.” Mildred rolled her eyes ever so slightly, moving forward to get to her cup of tea. “Wait a minute. That’s a little personal. Maybe you shouldn’t use it.” Mildred put down her tea cup and put her hand to her lips, almost in consternation of Sherman’s sudden formality. She could see he was anxious, and most likely missing her. She just took more sips of her tea, her eyes drinking in every nuance of her husband.

“Whatever you say.”

“Aw, what the hell. I’m sure there are plenty of people back home who do the same thing.”

Mildred sighed as her tea cup clinked softly and she shook her head in unison, copying Sherman. She smiled as she saw the next face, the young man so youthful and sweet-looking.

Angelica shouted at the other girls to shush–her brother was on TV. She could finally see him after so long, and he looked much too skinny. She had to wonder what they were serving him over there as she shoved Martha Margaret out of her seat, almost tripping over Ruth and Naomi who were sprawled out on the floor. Angelica grinned as she saw her brother’s smile and his name flash on the screen.

1ST. LT. F. MULCAHY

Chaplain

“Father, what do you miss the most?”

Angelica watched her brother smile in his coffee cup, holding it just like their mother did. He looked too casual in his black T-shirt, but she was pleased he still wore his crucifix that she had given him before he left for Korea.

“He mustn't miss much over here, huh?” Jude asked, leaning over the back of the creaky couch. Angelica swatted him away ferociously, while the younger girls shouted at the young priest to sit down in a huff.

“Well, let’s see. I think a chapel that didn’t double as a mess tent. You see, I’m very fond of stained glass.”

“Yeah, the amount of glass windows he broke playing baseball as a boy. Da whipped his butt raw.” Angelica snickered as she leaned back, surrounded by her girls, the novicates who were the nuns-in training and the priest, to watch what her brother was writing home about. The smirk fading to a frown, she wondered if perhaps it would shed further light on his cryptic letters home.

Mrs. O’Reilly sighed with a smile as she saw her son. “What do I miss the most? My very own room.” She laughed as she nudged her brother, knowing that Walter never quite had his own room, he always had to share it with the animals he ended up bringing home.

“You’ll have to excuse my appearance, my hair hasn't seen a beauty parlor since Tokyo…Oh, thank you.” Margaret smiled, and Margaret’s parents smiled at the sight of their daughter. “What was the question?”

MAJ. M. HOULIHAN

Head Nurse

“What do you miss the most around here?”

“Around here? Well, frankly, I’d have to say a sense of order and discipline.” Margaret’s father nodded and shook his fist in the air in agreement, as Margaret’s mother huffed and smirked. She was just content to see her daughter looked all right, even if just a tad frustrated…

Screaming and hollering rang through the air as Peg called over her friends, her arms wrapped around her little girl, Erin, pointing to the TV. “That’s Daddy! See, your daddy’s on TV!” She nearly swooned as she saw her husband’s name come on the TV.

CAPT. B.J. HUNNICUTT

Surgeon

“Well, one thing I miss is my wife’s cooking.” Peg shrieked with delight and giggled, as Erin reached out to the TV, her eyes moving from the photo on the TV of BJ and Peg, then the TV. “What am I saying? Anybody’s cooking.” Peg giggled and cuddled her daughter, asking if she saw her Daddy, and kissed Erin’s chubby cheeks, wishing her husband was home already. She didn't even mind that mustache he had grown, and how long his hair had grown. She just wanted him home.

Everyone grumbled as the Truman clips rolled, wanting to see their loved ones some more, and beverages were refilled. Diapers changed, and animals fed until the sound of Clete’s voice brought them all back to their respective seats in front of the TV.

Angelica shouted with delight as she pointed out her brother in the background, behind Clete, sipping his coffee peacefully. People milled around Clete, and Angelica’s eyes watched her brother with a pang of sadness, realizing how alone he really could be, surrounded by all these people.. An island unto himself, thought Angelica as she held a pillow closer to her body, whispering at Jude to shut up so she could hear the TV.

War, like politics, makes strange bedfellows. The 4077th is a highly diverse, if not disparate group of people. And yet the war seems to have molded them into a family….. Each family member watching the special nodded almost as if in unison to Clete’s words. Their faces reflected the happiness that they held for their loved one and their companions, now able to recognize and put a face to the names they read about so frequently in the letters and heard about in phone calls, oftentimes in the background, a strange tinny sound from so far, far away.

Mildred smiled softly at her husband’s words, knowing he meant every word dearly.

“I would say, all things considered, and without overstating it, they’re just about– they’re just about– No, forget “just about” They’re the best bunch of people I’ve ever worked with in my entire life.” Each family member beamed with pride at the words from Colonel Potter.

“When you share the horror that we do day in and day out…” BJ shook his head. “You don’t just feel close, you cling to each other.” Peg frowned and held her daughter closer to her, almost afraid to wonder what horrors her husband dreamt of at night. She hoped he would dream of pretty things, such as the time they took Erin to the beach, or when they bought their house… but Peg found herself making a promise to hold onto BJ for however long he needed it when he returned. She would try to make home a safe place again…

“I hate the damn army, but I love these people.” Abdul translated for his sister, their smiles matching Max’s, so grateful he had found such wonderful friends. The section 8 had become much less of a concern, and Max’s mother found herself murmuring to Abudl that he had grown into such a wonderful young man, as she gestured to the screen, the warm scent of tobacco filling the air.

The people gathered in the Grange Hall in Iowa leaned towards each other, giving each other comfort throughout the narrative, until Radar’s face came on screen. “The way people come and go around here. You know, you just get to know one person, and he leaves, and then there’s another person.” Ed whispered to his sister, wondering what had made Walter so cynical. Most likely that CO, they had before- what was his name? Henry Blake? Ed recalled his sister had made a cake to send to that poor family in Illinois.

Margaret’s parents chuckled at their daughter’s words, holding up their respective cups of scotch and sparkling bubbly water. “Well, you have to understand, I’m regular army. Most of them are not. They’re a terribly unruly and undisciplined bunch, and I thank god for each and every one of them when those casualties roll in.”

Both of her parents smiled, saying in unison, “That’s our Margaret.”

Daniel Pierce smiled–he knew his son more than his son knew himself. He could see the honesty and shadow of denial in the young man’s eyes. “You get close to everybody in a place like this. Some more than others, of course. Uh, my bunkmate for instance, B. J. Hunnicutt. Uh, clean cut, family man, even temperament. In spite of that, I really like the guy. “ B.J. seemed more than a friend, more like a close comfort. And what was that of the Mulcahy fellow he heard about in every letter? That nice young man had dominated a number of letters home, Daniel thought with a fond smile as the young man’s face filled the screen.

Angelica’s fellow nuns nudged her, asking how come her brother looked so sweet, but was such a devil when he was a boy? Angelica laughed and shook her head, telling them she had gotten her revenge on him when she had bitten his toe.

“And then, of course, There’s Major Winchester, our newest arrival.” Angelica could tell her brother wasn’t too thrilled with Major Winchester–he had his I must not tell lies face on.. “Someone should say something nice about him. Uh… H-He’s a very good doctor.” Angelica could read into her brother’s words, recalling their mother muttering under her breath at the grocery clerk a few choice words in an almost-forgotten Irish Gaelic as she smiled the same smile that her son had put on, and Angelica was echoing a similar smile.

MAJ. C.E. WINCHESTER

Surgeon

Charles’s family murmured in delight and acknowledgement as soon as Charles filled the screen, his name bringing pride to the patriarch.

“Tell me something about the people here.” Honoria laughed from her position on the settee, nearly tipping her cup of tea. Mother scolded Honoria, while Father’s eyes darted askance, with a half-smirk on his lips in his wife’s direction.

“No, I don’t want to get into personalities, uh, here.” Honoria giggled again, this time earning a mild half-hearted flutter that couldn’t be called a swat, in her direction. “However, there are some people that I will try very hard to forget. Of course, I know I never shall. One in particular who is, you might say, well, let’s start with immature, self-righteous, arrogant, everything I abhor. For the record, the only thing that makes him marginally acceptable is his skill as a surgeon. Of course, even in there his conduct is insufferable.” Honoria asked her mother and father which one Charles was talking about, since there were so many people he complained about, and they all started debating, since there was no way any of those people they had heard about on the TV matched Charles’s ramblings. Honoria knew better, smirking at the TV as she feigned interest in her parents’ debate. She knew her brother could be fancying someone, possibly one of the roommates, she just couldn’t see Charles paired with any of the nurses–he never mentioned them….

Daniel hollered with laughter, slapping his knee. “Our head nurse is really something. Uh, Major Houlihan. Margaret. Did I mention she’s really something?” He knew his son would admire a woman just like his own mother, but he was vaguely sure his son liked both Margaret and a certain fellow….

The commercials filled the air. People got up to refresh drinks, fill plates, and use the restroom in a hurry. Chatter filled the air, asking questions about ‘the others’- They were used to hearing about BJ, Charles, Francis, Sherman, Max, Margaret– but they never had heard about the other people around that particular loved one. Daniel hummed and wondered to himself about That nice young man Francis, and the roommate B.J.-- what exactly did that name stand for? Charles’s family discussed the merits of Charles’s roommates and the head nurse, Margaret–surely she would be suited for Charles–while Honoria rolled her eyes and perused her brother’s records. Peg sipped coffee and rocked a sleepy Erin, not wanting to put down her baby, her only physical extension of BJ.

The air hushed as Clete came on the TV, his voice strong and filling the sudden void.

This is just the beginning of autumn in Korea, and there’s already a real chill in the air. Before winter even arrives, the temperatures will dip below zero, and all that after a summer of unbearable heat. If you were going to hold a war, this is probably the most brutal climate on Earth in which to do it.

“You’re five miles from the front on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and the O.R. Sessions must be a source of great tension. What do you do to relax?”

“Relax?”

“You get a chance to relax, don’t you?”

“To relax, I like to stay in shape, so I drink a lot. That’s uh.. That’s the really big sport here.” Daniel frowned and glanced at his own bottles, resting on top of the record player. He knew Hawkeye had been exposed to some heavy drinking, particularly around the time of his wife’s death, but Hawkeye's flippancy unnerved him mildly. He knew of the still in his son’s tent, but he was slightly nervous about how exactly his son would drink away his terrors… he didn’t want Ben to end up like his Uncle Archie, now would he…

Jude poked Angelica, who startled and turned towards the TV, blankets and pillows flying everywhere as nuns fought for a good spot to see Angelica’s handsome brother.

“Poker. I know that may sound very strange, but poker relaxes me.” Angelica shouted in indignation, Francis had taken every red cent from her and their other siblings when they played poker as children. “There’s nothing more satisfying than shearing the flock, as it were.” Angelica knew that smile– her brother was breaking rules again. “Of course, it all goes to the orphans. Well, almost all of it.” She knew of the customary tax, as it were–seventy-five percent went to Francis’s cause, and then twenty-five would go to Francis himself. Sometimes he called it a ‘finder’s fee’- Angelica called it a ‘fleecer’s fee.’

Honoria hollered at her parents, suddenly unladylike, as her brother’s visage filled the screen. Her parents paused to scold her, waiting until after Charles had made his appearance.

“Music is my sanctuary–classical. It reminds me that there is still some grace and culture left in the world.” Honoria rolled her eyes as her parents called her ‘unladylike’ and ‘unseemly for a young woman of your station, they don’t holler.’

Peg giggled and snuggled Erin, who gave a milk-drunk gurgle of contentment, baby snores wafting from the not-quite-baby, not quite-toddler in Peg’s arms. “Oh, in general, I’d say with a lot of horseplay–taking out your frustrations on other people.” Peg scoffed, knowing her husband and his practical jokes. “You know, good, clean, American fun.” She still hadn’t gotten the ink out of that dress, the victim of the last practical joke he had played on her right before he had left for Korea… But right now, she didn’t mind it one bit. It helped her smile, remembering her BJ.

Daniel Pierce rolled his eyes and cleaned up his drinks, knowing his son was definitely one of those people.. “I don’t want to lie to you. I’ve established some wonderful temporary relationships with a lot of the nurses here. I like to think of myself as a social director of the heart.” Social director, indeed, Daniel recalled the numerous phone calls he had gotten for ‘Ben’ or ‘Benji’ or ‘Benjamin’--his favorite was of a nervous young man, right before Hawkeye had left for Korea- asking for ‘Benny-”

LATEST NEWS FROM THE KOREAN FRONT: MOVIETONE NEWS

“How has being a part of all this, the war, changed you?” As Clete asked each person, each family held their breath, half-waiting to hear what their loved one would say. Letters and phone calls were one thing, but it was something else to actually see their loved one say the words….

“Very impressed now, with the…” Daniel watched Clete tower over Hawkeye at the desk, presumably in the recovery ward. “...terrible fragility of the human body and the uh…” Daniel let out a sharp breath, realizing what Hawkeye’s next word would be, “the unbelievable resiliency of the human spirit.” He could see in his mind’s eye the last time he had kissed his wife good-night, and the last time his wife had kissed their son good-night. He was fairly certain it was the same image Hawkeye was seeing.

Peg shivered, suddenly feeling a cold shiver of ice shoot through her as she watched the cold ice shoot over her husband’s visage, not wanting to see that look in his eye again. “And it’s made me…” Peg bit her lip, unable to tear her eyes away from BJ, red lipstick smearing her teeth. “Very, very angry.”

Honoria glanced askance at her parents, sitting stiffly and formally in their chairs. “It’s allowed me to work fairly closely without becoming contaminated with people of vastly divergent points of view.” Honoria smirked as she looked up from the record-sorting, seeing the truth of his words in her brother’s eyes, and the flicker of distaste in her parents’ eyes.

“I’ve learned more about myself and how much I really care about people. Um, I feel as old as I’m ever going to get.” Margaret’s mother smiled, her smile a match to Margaret’s own. “Older than I ever intended to be. And I… really can’t wait to go home.” Both parents let out small sighs of relief and agreement, wanting their daughter back safe.

“When this is over, when there’s no more reason for you to be here, what memories will you take home with you?”

“That’s easy. The face of every kid who’s come through here.” Daniel nodded and held up his coffee mug to his son’s words, he knew the feeling all too well from his own experience in 1917. He still couldn’t forget the haunted faces of the soldiers he had seen from the Ardennes.

“But there must be other things you will recall.” Daniel mouthed, ‘good luck.’ Hawkeye was always a mauldin child, oscillating wildly from one extreme to another, in-between a mere suggestion.

“I don’t know. I don’t think that you remember the bad stuff as much as you think you will. I think uh, I think I’ll never forget the day I go home. At the moment, I can’t imagine it.” Daniel took a swig of his coffee, allowing it to burn his throat on the way down, he needed the distraction from the pang of fear he felt for his son.

Honoria’s eyes snapped up at the moment she heard her brother’s voice, and her eyes widened.

“No memories. I blot it out as it happens.” Honoria shivered, recalling their younger brother and the vacant look she had seen in her brother’s eyes.

Margaret’s parents smiled fondly at their daughter. “The people here at MASH. They’re like family. No, they are family. Yes. Family.” It was hard to forget the cherished relationships between people who shared quite an adventure.

Angelica shook her head at her brother, rolling her eyes at the ceiling, knowing he was a sucker for those little fellows, never wanting anyone to go without a parent’s love. “The little Korean children. Their smiles amidst all this despair.” Angelica remembered their mother, fondly feeding the neighborhood children pies, saving scraps for the less fortunate, and practically giving away everything she’d knit to others less fortunate. Bless his soul, Francis had inherited their mother’s gentle nature, and their father’s fierce streak.

Abdul echoed Max’s words, nodding with emphasis and smiling as the dark-eyed Klingers all nodded in agreement, feeling Max’s warmth emanating from his smile, and understanding that there was happiness to be found… “All the good times. That’s what I’ll remember. I think there were three.” Abdul knew that was one of the many reasons he kept sending Max all these dresses.. Someone needed a smile out there, and seeing an hairy middle-eastern man in a dress could make anyone forget the horror surrounding them even for a moment.

Mildred smiled fondly, curling up further in her blanket, letting the steam from her tea warm her face, sipping as she watched Sherman on TV. “What these young people have–their dedication, their devotion, almost, their high spirits–has rubbed off on me. I feel ten years younger. I’m a better doctor, and most important…” Mildred couldn’t stop smiling–it was her husband on TV, and she could hear his voice as if he was right next to her. “I’m a better human being and I don’t have to remember that. It’s part of me.” She knew the man spoke gospel truth, Sherman was one of those rare men that were willing to be flexible, to learn from others, and shed his old skin every once in a while. She wouldn't have stayed with him all these years if he had still remained as stern and unyielding as he had been in their youth.

The people in the Grange Hall had left, the novelty of the programme wearing off, but Radar’s family had remained. They huddled around the television, their blankets wrapped around their shoulders and smiles on their faces as they watched Walter on the tv, relishing the sound of his voice. “One day. One very bad day.” Radar’s mother could recall that very day. “There’s people here that suffer every day. And, uh… I don’t really want to talk about this.” She knew the pain, having lost her husband and knowing the pain of watching peoples’ suffering.

Angelica blinked at the sudden change, taking in her brother’s tent, she knew it was his tent, from the desk in the background. Only Francis would drag all those books all the way to Korea and play poker with the boys, turning around and giving the winnings to the little children.

“When the doctors cut into a patient, and it’s cold, you know, the way it is now today…” Angelica remembered bundling up with Francis to run outside in the cold and was unnerved that something could be colder than Philadelphia in winter. “Steam rises from the body.” Whispers broke out around Angelica. “And the doctor will– will warm himself over the open wound. Could anyone look on that and not feel changed?” Jude whispered to Angelica, realizing now how and why Francis was such a good priest–‘he’s got a way with words, hasn’t he?’ – Angelica nodded as the image jerked slightly, her brother suddenly putting his spectacles back on. She could see the glimmer of tears still in his eyes, and the breath left Angelica’s body, for a split-second she could feel her soul leave her body and cry out at the injustice her brother was witnessing every day. Her lips parted and she merely nodded to Jude, the pain too sharp for words.

There’s no way to summarize what you’ve just seen and heard, save to say that, God willing, all these exceptional people will be going home one day. Let us hope that neither they nor any others will have to assemble for such a purpose again. Good night.

The TV clicked off. Each person drifted off in their own thoughts, finishing up their nightly routines with the spectre of their loved one next to them. Daniel locked the doors, turned out the lights, and curled up in his large bed, holding on to his wife’s pillow. Mildred washed up the dishes, listening to a recording of her and Sherman’s favorite song, humming along as she danced herself to bed. She brushed off Sherman’s half of the bed before kissing his photo and turning in for the night, composing her next letter to him in her head as she drifted off in a peaceful sleep. Abdul and Mrs. Klinger got the little ones ready for bed, chattering among themselves in Arabic, debating what outfit they should send to Max next. Margaret’s parents each laid in their own beds, in their separate households, sharing the same thought of how much they loved their daughter and how lucky they were to have her in their lives. Angelica herded all of the novice nuns to their dormitory, taking a moment to make sure Jude would behave, before locking herself into her room. She crossed herself, taking off her habit and wimple, messy dark blond hair falling about her in wild curls as she brushed through her hair. She sang to herself a childhood song she used to sing with Francis, half-praying for her brother and his companions in the 4077. Honoria sorted the records, making her way to her bedroom and falling asleep to the sound of her brother’s favorite record, putting up with the caterwauling just so she could pretend he was down the hall, being a brat and torturing her with the music. Peg had laid Erin down for the night, and was curled up in bed, wearing BJ’s pajamas. She inhaled his aftershave and talked to BJ as if he was lying next to her in the bed, the small charade allowing her to drift off to sleep.

On the other side of the world, In Korea, it was chaos. Blood painted the OR red and people glanced up for a moment, eyes on a clock.

“It’s bedtime back home.”

Murmurs about what their loved ones may be doing at that very moment drifted about, not knowing that every thought was about them, love from afar surrounding every soul in the 4077.

#mash 4077 #mashblr #mash fandom #m*a*s*h 4077 #if you squint you can ship hawkeye with anyone #colonel potter #father mulcahy #john mulcahy #hawkeye pierce #bj hunnicutt #charles emerson winchester iii #margaret houlihan #maxwell klinger #sherman potter #the interview episode with clete roberts I forget what season but it's in the later season five maybe?

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year ago

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Hello,

I apologize in advance if you've already answered something like this but my cursory look didn't show anything. I am looking for a game system that has an emphasis on the feeling of a wild west movie while still retaining general fantasy elements from DND. The wild spaces are slowly becoming tamed, increasing technological/magical advancement are pushing disparate communities together, and of course cocky assholes with guns (or a magical equivalent).

Thanks in advance

Theme: Wild West Fantasy

Hello friend, you might want to check out my Fantasy Westerns rec post, to see if anything there fits what you’re looking for. I especially recommend checking out the rec for We Deal In Lead and Clink. For the rest of this post, I try to span a very broad range, so I don't expect everything to stick - but perhaps one or two do!

Inevitable, by Soul Muppet Publishing.

Knights and wizards have defended the Kingdom of Myth for centuries. These lands have known peace and prosperity, but soon the kingdom shall be destroyed. The Prophets have declared that your city shall burn and Myth will fall. All those who follow your King shall die. It is INEVITABLE.

But you shall defy fate. Myth will not end while you bear arms. You will fail, but as long as there are still stories, they will sing of you!

Inevitable is a Arthurian Western roleplaying game for 2-6 players and a GM, where your party of disastrously sad cowboy knights fail to stop the apocalypse. This 284 page book contains all the rules, character creation and the setting for your campaign, thoroughly and evocatively detailing The Barren, the lands surrounding the Kingdom of Myth.

This game might be way you’re looking for: it describes itself as a fantasy kingdom, with western aesthetics. There are wizards, prophets, and rune-carved revolvers. Your reputation in the kingdom is important; it determines how well you can face challenges, and roll pools of d6 on a table of staggered success. If you want a taste before you buy, there’s a Quickstart with some evocative set pieces, a quick overview of the rules, and a quick adventure to run through with a list of pre-generated characters.

Far West, by Adamant Entertainment.

Imagine a fantasy setting that shatters the tropes of Medieval Europe. Imagine a collision of Spaghetti Westerns and Chinese Wuxia by way of Steampunk. Imagine a world where gunslingers and kung fu masters face off against Steam Barons and the August Throne. Imagine fantastic machines powered by the furies comprising the fabric of the universe. Imagine an endless frontier where wandering heroes fight for righteous causes while secret societies engage in shadow wars. Imagine…

This game is a combination of Wild Western tropes and Wuxia fantasy. Your characters are wandering heroes, defending the small and helpless against the strong and powerful. I look at this game and I think of movies like The Magnificent Seven. Mechanically, it’s its own system, but it draws heavily from Fate, using positive and negative aspects to boost rolls and spark complications.This game relies on some tropes that require entire table buy-in: I’m not sure how many assumptions the game makes about the cultures it takes inspiration from.

Holler: An Appalachian Apocalypse (Savage Worlds), by Pinnacle Entertainment.

In Holler, the mysterious “Big Boys” own the mines, mills, and logging operations. They rule over every aspect of their workers’ lives—subjecting them to extraordinary dangers on the job and crushing oppression outside of it. The Big Boys have transformed the land of the Holler—rivers bubble with strange chemicals, strip-mined mountains crumble into valleys, and the air is choked with a toxic fog known as the Blight. The flora and fauna of the Holler grow more monstrous by the day. Demons of every description lurk in the forests. Mutant cryptids haunt villages with their strange cries and appetites. Vengeful haints leer from abandoned shacks and lonely cliffs. No one is coming to save the people of Holler.

The goal of the resistance is to build a coalition, to bring together diverse factions—humble workers, roustabouts, mountain men, dirt track racers, cultists, and even strange creatures of myth and legend to raze the works of the Big Boys and drive them from the Holler forever. Holler draws deeply on Appalachian history, mythic folklore, and culture to create a dark fantasy world of apocalypse and vengeance.

This sounds a little more grim and gritty, with cryptids, toxic fog and demons lurking in the forest. It uses the Savage Worlds system, so you’ll have to pick up the codebook to play with it, but the setting is very very fleshed out. This is a little less Wild West and a little more Appalachia, and the setting is a bit more on the horror side than most of the other games on this list, but there’s certainly a lot of wildness out there for you to fight!

TROUPE, by TheOriginalCockatrice.

A game about travel, discovery, and outsiderness, a combination of the best of Old-School and Story Games. Complete with 6 Jobs, including the Ghelf, the Hedge, and the Ogra, and includes a system for holistically coming up with a character from scratch.

The designer describes this game as an exploration of the road; the odd and unknown of the wild, what it means to belong, and what it means to be on the outside. You’re not heroes - you’re entertainers, jokers, healers and bards. There isn’t exactly magic, but there is myth and legend. This is a great game for folks who want plenty of challenges that exist outside of combat. Each character playbook comes with a balance of mechanical elements and descriptive options, and you’ll be rolling 2d6 plus your stat in order to determine success.

I’m not sure how much of a Western this is, but the designer actually hacked this game for BXLLET, a game about gunslingers in the apocalypse, in the zine Bxllet Clip, so it might be worth checking out!

Shotguns & Sorcery, by Full Moon Enterprises.

Welcome to Dragon City, a grim, gritty metropolis ruled over by the Dragon Emperor, with legions of zombies scratching at the city walls by night.

Whether in the streets of Goblintown or the prestigious halls of the Academy of Arcane Apprenticeship, people try to scrape by, make a living, and survive from one day to the next. You, however, are looking for something more than simple survival. And in this city, if you don’t make your own adventure, another adventure is sure to find you.

Shotguns & Sorcery is a fantasy noir game complete with Dragon City Intrigues, roving hoards of undead, and unexplored mountains rife with magical creatures. You’ll see magical staffs alongside light pistols, bows alongside submachine guns, and greatswords alongside canteens, playing cards and a camp stove. The game uses the Cypher System, with an additional character option alongside the three-part character sentence: your race. This includes the signature hafling, elf, dwarf etc.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Knights of the Road, by bordercholly.

#fantasy #western #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks

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