#its very all over the place its not meant to be streamline but if i made a genuine post about this id never get to it

[cathalbravecog]

long ramble, haven't had one of these in a while! if you read this, have fun. it's headcanons/thoughts on some stuff. i don't talk about my thoughts on story stuff publicly much anymore especially because 1) i'm shy 2) trust issues 3) bad rsd 4) i forgot the last point

i was writing for oNCE yesterday (some headcanon stuff, for myself, won't be posting that unless i change the wording of some of it to make more sense because i ramble a lot and it's a mess. like i am doing right now. also that turned into being mostly about hr in the end because i am ill. now hopefully this motivation will get me to write my mary and archie stuff.)

and when i went to bed i was thinking about some stuff in toontown, mostly the cogs - and how things work. these are things i ponder on very often and have talked about with my friends many time, throwing ideas back and forth and my headcanons for how things work.

though, there's one thing i really wonder about, and that's where cogs come from in ttcc exactly. in 'that' way though of course to keep things on the same rating as the game is i won't discuss anything explicit so don't worry. (besides they're robots and also are sexless to me, anything related to gender is purely cosmetic to them. you are usually assigned a certain expression when built though, but can change that later on. that's how i explain trans cogs.)

i think about how there are canonical families and children, and that they have "built" dates and places where they've been built. it's obvious as they're robots, they're not born they're built and made.

it's a bit difficult to explore with the limited info we have, which is kind of both an hassle to work with, but also beautiful because you can let your creativity go and make up your own headcanons, without things being set in too much canon. it's also difficult due to how different the suit culture is to us humans and also what we see from the toons which is by nature more familiar to us.

we also do not know much about suitopia, or other possible places where cogs live.

(i, personally, imagine suitopia as essentially a big country where most if not all cogs live. it has it's own regions, cities... all that. where as c.o.g.s. inc has built itself to be essentially it's own small country/community, if that makes sense. though cogs don't always only mention suitopia, at least once 'the whole world' is used. this is irrelevant tho so i won't discuss that but it's still a 'core' headcanon i have - as other things i may hc rely on this personal interpretation / headcanon.

but be aware i do not know everything is canon and can discuss things outside my realm of HCs and interpretations, but if i go deeper into like, let's say, analyzing a cog and imagining their backstory, instantly assume i'm using all these things. sorry for the side ramble, i want to make things clear for possible future reference.)

i wish it will be expanded upon slightly in the future, even a slightest crumb of what it's like out there and i can have a field day with it. i do enjoy the vagueness tho, again, as i've said we do not need to have all the information out there and it's not necessary to the main stories that are being told but MAN my brain itches for MORE. i demand EXPLANATIONS. and so i make up my own lol and i love that i can do that /gen (there's some stuff i do have an issue with that it was not explained better, but again, fixed that with hcs. talking abt atticus but im not getting into that rn)

there also may be things i am missing - i have known of ttcc's existence since it's early days, but i wasn't there for it and missed being there in person for any lore until i started playing for real in early 2023 and became a part of the community. like, there ARE things i have missed AND small details i am missing. that's one criticism i have about some info being more difficult to access now, but the main stuff is on the wiki an all luckily.

anyways that ramble out of the way... how the heck are cogs made? there's a few ways, that seem contradictory in some ways at first but i just see it as different methods.

we know cogs can change their appearances (their shell) and be "upgraded". we know cogs can even choose to be just their skelecogs (Atticus) and i suppose every other skelecog we see.) we know cogs have families and have their own kids. (cathal and bobby jr come to mind, and also belle's own kids and grandkids. not to mention, we have siblings too - thomas and robert. and their whole family drama DOES involve their unseen parents.) we know many cogs, mostly the managers, come into the company as their are - but also new parts are built, at least for the employee cogs in sellbot hq. (recently re-read the dialogue which confirmed this - literally as you're building your sellbot suit.)

we know cogs are more than just some working machines and do have deeper lives and desires and even relationships, though all instances of a parent/child relationship in ttcc have only one parent. makes sense after all they don't reproduce sexually to put it that way, again they're built and they're robots.)

it's easy to conclude, that, cogs are just built. which is true. but it just makes me wonder. we know they age. we have at least 1 cog who is a literal child, and bobby, in human years at least, looks no older than like, 8 years old. (we also don't know how cogs age. we also know cog's don't die like that, due to the whole deal with atticus. i will talk about this one day i have so many thoughts on it)

we know they grow up and even have schools - they're not programmed with everything. they earn experience as they live life and even have?? education systems? like they're more like people than we thought. (ttcc does make cogs more easily sympathized with and gives us INDIVIDUAL cogs and not just... 'The Cogs'. cogs are the focus of ttcc so of course they're developed more and are more 'human' despite being machines.)

so clearly, there's cogs like bobby. who are built young and eventually grow up. we have not seen a cog growing up yet, at least i don't think. but i wonder how that works. through cartoon logic, do they just grow up? their skelecog and perhaps their shell, too? or do they periodically get upgraded to be larger - wouldn't it make sense to built a cog as, well, an adult already? to program all these things? there may be more limits to this than we think, but also just... cultural things possibly.

the only cog CHILD (not just the child of someone - cathal's an adult. also, redd mention, but redd's adopted so he doesn't count) we ever see is bobby and, he is the child of robert, who is known to be very short. we don't know if bobby's going to grow up, or if this height is what he's just going to be like. we have one image where he's way smaller than robert, and other, more recent ones, where they're a similar heights. is that just art inconsistency due to the nature of all the (amazing) artwork being, well, volounteer work and that not everything is (or has to be) perfect? or did bobby really grow up. i'm talking about the wallet picture and the comics featuring bobby, by the way.

though, as things are, i'm sort of assuming that bobby's going to grow up or be upgraded in some way to "grow up"? i don't think we need an clear explanation for that, and in a universe like this 'cartoon logic' would be enough, but it's still something to think about.

like...how do cogs go about having kids, anyways? all instances we see are visually similar as well. cathal has the same gear for his neck as allan's body does, and they have the same head lightbulbs and wires. bobby jr and robert are both furniture.

i've always assumed that it's like in robots (the movie, that i havent watched in years which would be helpful for all this, probably.) if you decide to have a child just for the experience of raising a child, to have a legacy, or due to a bond with a partner - you literally just build one. perhaps not in the same way as in the movie - in here it definitely requires more paperwork and blueprints. but again, it's interesting to think about! hey company i want a CHILD. i look like this build them like me thanks here's some blueprints. (this also explains the amount of single parents. though belle has to have been married/is married as her honorific is listed as mrs. hey fun fact, non native english speaker here. i didnt know 'mrs' means a lady is married until like this year. i've been on this earth for 19 years.)

like the concept of family is possibly just more social there than anything. duh... can't exactly have the same oil and wires inside of you as Robots .

anyways, so that explains kids... but what about the others? some cogs don't have any families mentioned but it's not hard to assume they come from families with parents and siblings as well. what about the employee cogs? who are quite literally very disposable in a way?

we do have to take into account that after all, employee cogs we see just on and about on the streets are mostly a game mechanic, and there are some individual cogs who ARE cogs who would typically be employees cogs. (jennifer comes to mind first, she's a micromanager but also a secretary and counts as a manager. same goes for judy and so forth.)

and y'know, the game won't have a personality and backstory for each random flunky on the streets you fight. but with often they get destroyed and repaired and that there's just... so many of them! of the same model and appearance... makes you think. is that why they were made? are they truly more robotic than the others, more devoid of 'humanity'? or were they different cogs, perhaps more lower class, who's appearances were changed entirely to fit into more easily fixable and replaceable shell forms? something that's less expensive for the company and for them? i swear i am missing some details on this, but that's for me to re read the wiki and cogs ink for on my own later. (i need to have full info n everything and if i dont bring up that i know one small detail i will explode bc someone will bring it up and make me feel dumb and that's the rsd part and it's often physically painful!)

very hard to tell, i'm sort of content with my thoughts on how cogs have kids, but i hope we ever get a bit more clarity on employee cogs - though it is a bit problematic as these are the guys you beat up on the daily who don't have individual personalities.

like i'm just rambling as i go here man, it was gonna be cohesive but i'm just spitting thoughts here now. like, we have 3 seperate skelecog types - all cogs come with a skelecog like we have a skeleton so that also comes into play. it can be adjusted in ways, most notably the head and also in size. though we do have a 4 arm cog. jason please i love you /p we need more jason content. it's wacky, it's tacky - it's toontown!

fun stuff to think about but i just deep fried my brain. tdlr i guess.

how cogs made. how cogs have kids. how cogs work in general. very swag very cool. guzma cathal spades spamtongender goes on 1568854 different tangents while saying they wont aka your swagesty your adhd symptoms are showing

that's it fellas enjoy 2k words of incomprehensible rambles that i am happy to finally get out! you see the way i explain things is precisely why i almost never do it publicly and i need practice shortening things.

[thenightling]

A brief history of Halloween

On a Halloween group that I follow on Facebook someone seemed sincerely curious about the origin of Halloween and got some snarky answers to just Google it so here's a very abridged version. It's very abridged so I don't cover everything and some of it may be streamlined but I cover what I can.

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The earliest Halloween celebrations were the Gaelic festival called Samhain (pronounced as Sow-in). Samhain was to celebrate the start of winter, the end of the harvest season. It was also a time to honor the dead.

The Ancient Celts believe there were two times during the year that magical entities such as Sidhe (faeries), goblins, and spirits were likely to enter the human world. This was in Spring and Autumn.

The Spring version is Beltane Eve and Beltane Day (April 30th and May 1st). April 30th is also known as Walpurgisnacht in Germany and Beltane is also known as May Day in some countries.

And in Autumn there was Samhain, which in modern times is October 31st and November 1st.

The Celts believed this was a time when magical energy was at its strongest and the veil between worlds such as the afterlife or the faerie realm was at its thinnest.

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The Catholic adoption of Samhain into All Hallow's Eve:

Christian holidays overlap Ancient Pagan ones such as Christmas and Yule (Yule or Jul is actually used as the word for Christmas in many countries). So Catholics placed All Hallow's Eve and All Hallow's Day over Samhain. All Hallow's Eve meant All Saint's Eve or the Eve of all Saints.

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El Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos (The Day of the Dead)

When the Spanish came into, what is today, Mexico they brought Catholicism with them which mingled with some of the indigenous folk beliefs already present. El Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos (The Day of the Dead) is celebrated on November 1st. In Mexico this is a Multi-day event to celebrate the Day of The Dead, All Saint's Day and all Soul's Day. One day is for partying and celebrating life and conquering fear of death while another is for revering the dead and tending to graves.

Different parts of Mexico celebrate differently but there are often candied sugar skulls, parades, skeletons on the news and in newspapers. And parties.

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Hungry Ghosts Festival:

In China and some other parts of Asia there is the Feast of the Hungry Ghosts also called the Hungry Ghosts Festival. This is usually not celebrated at the same time as modern, American, Halloween, but it may have had some influence in its conception.

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The Jack-o-Lantern.

Originating with the folktale of Stingy Jack we get the Irish custom of the Jack-o-Lantern. According to Legend Jack bested The Devil and cheated him out of his soul but he was not good enough for Heaven so he was doomed to wander as a ghost.

The Devil (or one of his demons) taunted him by tossing him an ember from Hell to guide his way. Jack placed the ember inside a turnip that he carved into a lantern.

Jack was a coward so people figured out they could drive him away by carving a sinister face into a hollowed out turnip and place a small candle inside of it. Jack would mistake this as the lantern of another wandering ghost and avoid it.

Over time the custom of carving Jack-o-Lanterns was believed to not just drive away old Jack but other wandering spirits. It became a protection ward against evil. The earliest known jack-o-lanterns date back to at least 1658.

When the Irish came to America they found that it was easier to carve a pumpkin than a turnip and was (apparently) just as effective (if not more so) in driving away malignant spirits. The change-over to Pumpkins happened between the eighteenth and nineteenth century though even today you will find some turnip Jack-o-lanterns. These were not strictly for Halloween yet.

The Dutch colonists (now Americans) started to adopt the Irish custom of carving Jack-o-lanterns out of pumkins in Upstate New York in the 1790s or earlier.

Thanks to writers like Washington Irving and his The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Jack-o-laterns became a fixture of Hallowe'en by 1820. It was believed that on this night it was more likely that the spirits of the dead would return and so people wanted a little extra protection. Or they liked the novelty of the spooky decoration.

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Hallowe'en

The word Hallowe'en came about in the nineteenth century and in the late nineteenth century in New England they started to sell Hallowe'en postcards and even artificial jack-o-lanterns manufactured in Germany.

Halloween parties became popular in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century.

They were usually masquerades or costume parties. At these parties unwed girls would do rituals like standing in a darkened room with a candle and mirror, in the hope that the reflection would transform into her future husband. There would be games like bobbing for apples and telling ghost stories (which was also a Christmas tradition at the time). And they would eat things like sweets and pumpkin pie and drink things like warm, sweet, apple cider (Usually non-alcoholic here in the US unless it is called hard cider. Apple Cider here in the US usually just means juice made from whole, pressed apples). Though there are Many people who still drink apple cider, in more recent times Pumpkin Spice has become the beverage flavor of choice even if it's just those spices in the apple cider.

But with these parties came mischief.

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Modern American Trick-or-Treating:

In the 1930s in America the custom of Trick-or-treating started to spread from small rural communities in New England and into the wider scape of America.

Many people attribute Trick-or-treating to the Ancient custom of leaving offerings out for spirts. (Which can be traced back to Ancient Egypt in origin). But the American version was an invention to deter teenage pranksters.

The theory was that if these rowdy teens were distracted with the bribe of candy they wouldn't make mischief like throwing eggs, smashing windows, or causing other trouble.

"Give me a treat or I'll pull a trick on you." is essentially what "Trick or treat" means but most pranks were actually harmless.

There were similar Trick-or-treat-like customs in those days for Thanksgiving and even Christmas (which later faded from cultural consciousness but my grandfather taught me about the Thanksgiving version). While in the UK there was Guy Fawkes Day (November 5th). "Penny for the Guy" might have been the cross-the-pond inspiration for Trick-or-Treat. Trick-or-treating didn't actually start in the US. The first record of modern Trick-or-treating was actually in Ontario, Canada in 1911 and then it trickled its way into the US by the 1930s.

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Germany's influence:

Before Word War 2 most Hallowe'en merchandise came out of Germany. This included printed color postcards (popular in New England), and paper Mache artificial Jack-o-lanterns (the first mass produced artificial Jack-o-lanterns), toys, sculptures, and cardboard and paper cutouts for windows and doors.

The first collectable Halloween merchandise came from Germany even though Germany would not celebrate "American style" Halloween until the 1990s.

In the 1990s after the success of movies like Hocus Pocus and Nightmare before Christmas that was when American style modern Halloween started to catch on in Germany.

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Halloween:

In the 1940s American Hallowe'en postcards started to drop the ' in Hallowe'en to save money on ink. By the 1950s almost all Hallowe'en merchandise had dropped the ' and the word became Halloween. The dictionary does say both are still correct, mind you.

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The rise of Pumpkin Spice:

Pumpkin spice is just the mixture of warm, sweet spices found in pumpkin pie. Today if the mixture is added to a beverage or confection dried pumpkin or pumpkin pulp is added to give it a stronger, more distinctly pumpkin-y flavor. (See Starbucks Pumpkin Spice lattes, and Hood brand Pumpkin spice non-alocholic eggnog).

The flavor consists of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, cloves, and sometimes dried pumpkin, sugar, and / or roasted chicory. (I prefer it without roasted chicory, by the way.).

The flavor is similar to gingerbread but perhaps a bit heavier on the cinnamon and in recent times tends to have actual pumpkin added to make it more distinctly seasonal.

In the 1990s Pumpkin Spice became a fashion in the world of coffees and teas and exploded in popularity. Until then it was mostly found in pastries and pumpkin pie. Now it's a seasonal novelty found in practically everything and in certain long-shelf-lifed products, can even be found all year long.

Pumpkin spice, interestingly enough, is made up of spices traditionally used by Neo Pagans and Wiccans to bring about good luck and ward off evil and hexes.

So you are actually drinking (or eating) a protection ward against evil.

And there you go. A brief, abridged, history of modern Halloween. For a kid-friendly education on the subject of the history of Halloween I recommend the fictional (yet educational) novel and animated movie, The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury.

[animehouse-moe]

Heavenly Delusion Episode 11: New Territory

It's with this episode that we finally surpass the official print release of Denpa for Heavenly Delusion, and cruise into new territory with the anime for English fans. It surprised me, but I can totally see what they're going for with how they're restructuring events, and I think it works amazingly. The feel of terror and discomfort is really on display with this episode.

Though we don't start with that right away. We actually get a bit with the academy before the opening, and I'd just like to point out that in this scene you can see a new child with similar ears to Mimihime. Nothing special, but it puts into perspective that the mutations amongst students are similar in some cases.

Anyways, the opening comes and goes, and we return to following Kiruko and Maru as they continue their journey towards the goal of Heaven. I wouldn't say there's anything special about their drive, as it's a lot of work that we've already seen, so I'll just glance over it to this scene with the director to draw the pair together.

So I think the very first thing to note here is that everybody is reaching for "Heaven", but for different reasons. Maru's goal is to reach Heaven, while the Director's is to achieve. Similarly, the director does so for self serving purposes, while Maru has been set on the path towards it. Overall, I find it very interesting how this scene sets the two characters at odds.

Also, for those curious, the portrait behind the Director is of Izanami and Izanagi, effectively the heads of the Shinto religion that preside over life and death. It's really cool seeing an anime lean into that side of mythology and religion rather than to default towards something else. Anyways, the point of this being, that by placing Izanami and Izanagi behind the Director, they're effectively telling readers and viewers that the Director wishes to preside over life and death itself (if that wasn't clear already).

Moving past the Director's monologue that explains Takarahara Academy a little bit, I really like what they've been doing with Sawatari to start off with Tokio and Kona's child. In all of the scenes we have of Sawatari looking over it, we have yet to see Sawatari's reaction to it.

Though shortly after this, our time is up with the academy for now as we move back to Kiruko and Maru. I've been really liking how well they streamline a lot of these events, as they cut and (most of the time) paste pieces in different spots, trimming the fat in the process. I wouldn't say there's much of anything wrong with the manga, but that the anime is repurposing this story to be presented properly in its best form as an anime. Anyways, the point I was getting to, I really love the framing with these window shots. Even better is that in the shot where Maru sees the smoke, viewers aren't shown it until it can be placed naturally in the scene. It's a small detail, but it works wonderfully with Hirotaka's direction of the series.

And it's here that we get our massive reveal. The Ibaraki facility, and Inazaki Robin. I never really thought about it before, but Inazaki and Ibaraki have a bit of a ring to it. Same with Inazaki and Izanami/Izanagi. Doubt there's much of a connection, but just something that caught my attention. Anyways, what's more concrete and interesting, is how gaunt Robin looks in this scene. It really makes you wonder about what's changed with him until this point.

We don't linger long on Robin or Inazaki though, as we return to the academy to find Mimihime trying to help out another girl. I'll be straight, when this happened in the manga I thought it was for real and a part of the whole bodysnatcher scheme somehow. And that feeling translates incredibly well into the anime. The terror, the fear, the horror of those precision tools meant to tear her apart slowly encroaching on her. It's incredibly well done, and I love what they add to it. That piece of all the flashes of equipment and stuff is new to the anime, and I think it's an insanely good touch that shows how Mimihime's foresight becomes a detriment to her and something that she fears. What's happened in the future that she's seen haunts in her the present and creates phobias from thin air.

And just to add, because it comes up later as well. The sound design and OST? Impeccable in these moments. That rising tension, the rhythm that it produces with that very low and solid drumming. How it pauses and when it speeds up, the relentless pressure that it provides upon the scene. Just all around great work.

Did you think Mimihime had enough with just that one round? Of course not! She's forced back into more when she meets Kona on the other side of her curtain. I really like how they've used Mimihime's character so far, and pulling from volume 6 to bring moments like this closer together with one another is a great idea for the anime. The added pieces from Mimihime's earlier hallucination go hand in hand in her foresight that reveals Kona as a Hiruko.

I also love the details here. Mimihime is looking away from Kona/the Hiruko, and Kona's Hiruko version starts to loom closer to her so she shies away just that little bit more.

Anyways, it's not all terrible for Mimihime, even if she has to experience that hallucination once more, because she does it in the name of the young girl who can't be friends with anyone because of her ability. I do find it quite interesting though how they set it up between the person that's used to having hallucinations, and the one that causes hallucinations.

Alright, just a few more pieces, I promise I'll fly through em to make this one short since I drew the previous episode out so much. Aoshima and Sawatari are working together to plan to get Tokio's child away from the Academy, and I like how they stand on opposite sides of the painting. It could be that rather than reign over both, they each represent a side between Izanami and Izanagi. Or it could be that they both exist outside the director's desire for a Heaven. Regardless of that, I find it really interesting that it's only in this one scene that we see Sawatari taking care of Tokio's child that we see their facial expression and hear them talk to them. Especially because they go through the trouble of showing us that they've fed both the babies that appear in this scene.

And I find this really interesting. One is labelled Tokio Jr, while the other is labelled Jr. C. The very first thing that popped into my mind was that one of the two babies is to be used to swap out for Tokio's child when Sawatari and Aoshima attempt to get it outside of the academy, but I'm not too sure.

Now, the last real piece to talk about is the "test" being undergone at Takahara Academy. The up and mention the word Hiruko to the kids, and that sets all of them off. Not freaking out or having some crazy realization, but in a more, "I don't feel right and this doesn't feel right" way. I already talked about how good the horror is, but what about the foreshadowing? When they mention the word Hiruko, the characters we know of are only ever shown in pairs. And thanks to Mimihime, we're able to establish a pattern. We know from Mimihime that Kona becomes a Hiruko (though he's not shown with Tokio, and Tokio's only shown at mention of "outside of the outside"), and we know from previous episodes that Mimihime will turn into a Hiruko. So what do you think of Taka and Anzu being shown together? Probably the same thing I am, that one of the two of them will turn into a Hiruko. I think it's a really subtle piece, but an incredibly interesting and important one. Why does only one person in these pairs turn into a Hiruko? Why is it that these pairs only form romantically? What about Tarao?

This episode works wonders on all fronts, shifting material around and condensing it to play right into the horror and discomfort of an unavoidable future. Just as those countless tools closed in on Mimihime in her hallucination, the walls are closing in on these children, time is running short for Sawatari and Aoshima, and Kiruko and Maru close in on their goals. It's incredibly well organized for translating this impressive story from manga to anime, and I absolutely can't wait to see what they do with the next episode.

[chiropteracupola]

Leviathan groom, please?

this (this being the tattoos-and-superstition story I've spoken about a few times before) is probably one of my favorite Hornblower fics, to the point where I've been working backward and forward on it for over a year as I try and fail to get it to be Just Perfect. trying to find the balance of exposition to explain the fantasy worldbuilding and actual plot has been very tricky with this one, especially as I haven't quite figured out just how either of those things works yet.

so right now, even though I like a lot of the current stuff I've written, I'm probably going to start over from the bones up, patching in the bits I liked from the first version as I go.

[SCRAPING SOUND AS A BIG CURTAIN IS DRAWN BACK]

basically, the structure that I have so far is 'too much exposition' -> [BIG HOLE] -> 'Bush wandering around in the snow' -> [SPOOKY DESCRIPTION I'VE NOT COME UP WITH YET] -> 'Bush having a long talk with a creepy thing' -> 'slapdash ending that's a little too goofy'

so the main points that need to get worked on are going to be streamlining the magic system and integrating the function behind it into the actual story (probably through some kind of opening Sailing Scenes), redesigning the creepy thing to fit better with the tone of the story overall, and of course, ironing the plot until it's nice and smooth.

I've had some difficulty managing stories with a larger cast in the past, and I think I'd like to push myself with this one and try harder to make the settings feel populated and living, which I think will be more compatible with the eventual redesign of the antagonist. I do think a face-stealing shapeshifter still meshes very nicely with Hornblower's Issues™️, but doesn't really work with the rest of the setting that I'm devising here. so it's back to the drawing board on the creepy thing, and I'm going to do a little research for inspiration before I settle on anything this time. rather than the face-stealer, I think a more standard Endless Barrow Party to get lost in/feel deeply uncomfortable at/charge boldly into on an ill-advised rescue mission will suit the two of them better.

and I'll probably have to pick a new title, as changing up the fairy-folk rules will mean that I lose the double meaning that made this particular one work so well. (it was always meant to be ambiguous whether it referred to Hornblower himself or to the face-stealer, since they're both hanging out somewhere in the middle of the sliding scale between husband and sea monster.) while it'll be a little said to break up my Boreas-lyrics tradition for Hornblower writing, I've been trying to switch to a snappier and more memorable titling system for some time anyway.

and if you're still here after reading all that, how about a scrap of the Exposition Brick that probably won't be coming back in the rewrite:

Entering the navy young had many its disadvantages, but one solid point in its favor was getting the ink-workings on you. They worked the best when they were drawn in as early as possible, it was said, and Bush had had his since he was barely eleven.

With so many ways a boy could die aboard ship, there was at least one surely preventable, if the right precautions were taken. The right knot in the right place, and they’d be tied down tight to the mortal world as well as human art could make them. There were other charms of much the same theory, hold-fast and love-stay-true and safe-at-sea, all with their own mark and their own meaning, but the faith men put in those, though strong, wasn’t nearly so hardy. Bush had seen nearly every other form of ink-workings fail at one time or another, but never these two, the sort given to the youngest and most likely to be stolen away.

He’d even heard the discussions among the hands, the boastful tales of a man claiming he’d nearly been spirited off as a lad, and would have been, too, if not for the marks on the backs of his hands. Sadder stories as well, for as he passed by on his rounds, he’d noted whispers of someone’s sister’s son stolen away, nephews and cousins and brothers gone under the hills never to be seen again. Why don’t they just put the protections on them proper-like, one man would say, and the other would shake his head, and mutter that such people couldn’t be reasoned with.

Whether it was that the ink-workings simply didn’t work on shore, or that the minds of those dwelling on land couldn’t wrap around a too-permanent way to keep their children safe, it still was that those on land went without the marks. Bush wasn’t sure quite why, nor did he himself understand exactly how the tattoos on the backs of his hands kept him safe. He was a plain sailor, not an artist or a witch, and he was content to trust rather than to make an attempt at unpicking the workings of the art.

[whatslanguage]

What is a word? What is a sentence? And why is the answer "we aren't quite sure"?

This is my first time answering an ask, I'm still streamlining my process. I don't expect each answer to be as long as this one.

Also have a question about something language-related? Check out my ask guidelines here.

I’ll answer your first two questions separately, and then base my answer to the third one on that.

Obligatory disclaimer I put above every post: I am a student undertaking this blog as a hobby. If I am not familiar with the topic at hand, I will do my best to read up to provide the best possible answer, but I may not always have time to go into depth, meaning some answers will be more detailed than others. I also try to keep things as simple as possible, so I may not always go in-depth on theoretical debates, especially not within fields I am not as specialized or interested in.

TLDR:

Both a word and a sentence can be defined in different ways depending on research areas and needs for those research areas. Writing conventions govern how words can be told apart in written language, and the phonological (sound) rules of a language aid you in learning how to separate words from each other in spoken language. I would argue that we do know what a word is and what a sentence is, but formulating an exact definition is difficult because certain nuances and different perspectives are simply hard or even practically impossible to squeeze into one definition.

What is a Word?

This is a very broad question, because there are quite a few ways to interpret it. That’s because from your average person’s point of view, a word already has multiple elements. To name a few: its appearance in writing, pronunciation, and meaning.

As a result, you can come up with the following questions (not an exhaustive list for the sake of oh my god 1.5K words…):

How do we define a word?

How can we tell words apart in writing?

How can we tell words apart in speech?

How do we define a word?

The first of these questions is by far the hardest to answer, and, I assume, the one you meant. I wouldn’t say “we don’t know”, but rather “we can’t agree because each definition serves a different purpose” (we being linguists, though I’m not so sure I can call myself one yet). For example, according to the Cambridge Dictionary of Linguistics, as cited on Wikipedia (my uni library access is messing with me, sorry, I’d have taken the direct quote otherwise) word is “a basic element of language that carries meaning, can be used on its own, and is uninterruptible.” In other words, it has to mean something, it shouldn’t have to be attached to something else, and you can’t cut it short and still have it function as it would have otherwise.

If you just want a basic understanding of what a word is, then I think personally, that’s a decent place to start. This would be a very long post (and a very long week) if I were to go over the different fields in linguistics and the way they’d need to define a word, and how that all causes linguists to seemingly disagree on what a word is (I would argue that depending on a field, one feature of a word, like its pronunciation, for example, may simply be more useful to focus on. That the sun is yellow-ish is important for a painter to know, but an astronomer may be more concerned with idk, its gravitational… something. I’m sorry I’m neither), so I’m not going to do that here, but if you’re curious, I’d suggest to just go through the Wikipedia page for "word" and click on the cited works in the first section, then read through the arguments given for those definitions.

How can we tell words apart in writing and speech

In writing, in the system I use now, it is quite easy: you can tell apart words because they are separated by punctuation, barring specific cases where words are glued together for stylistic reasons (in which case you would be able to figure out what the separate words are from the context). In programming languages (which are not typically considered something linguists study, I think, since we focus on human language, but it seems like a nice example), different variations using case is often used to set apart words without using spaces or special characters. LikeThisForExample. In your tumblr url, you may use hyphens to set apart words, or let context do the job. On AO3, you can use BothCase and_underscore to set apart words in your username.

In speech, it is a little harder. Scroll to a list of languages, pick one you’ve never heard of, and listen to someone say a sentence in it as if they were having a normal conversation. It likely sounds like a stream of gibberish, while in your own language, or even a language you are not very proficient in, but have some understanding of, you can tell where the word boundaries are. A simple assumption would be that pauses in speech set apart words, but then you run into the problem above: we don’t actually always put pauses between our words, especially when speaking to someone we know can understand us.

So how do we know then? Simply put, we are aware of the rules around the sounds in our native language. Before we’re even a year old, barring hearing or cognitive issues, we start being able to tell what sounds are part of our language and how. What sounds precisely we learn to listen to, depends on the language(s) we’re learning (note how often in sci-fi, the conlangs have sounds English doesn’t, it makes them sound more foreign), so the specific things we pay attention to in order to identify chunks, usually whole syllables. A number of other processes and bits of knowledge (first language acquisition is a huge branch I could not possibly cover in a single post, especially given all the things linguists disagree on or have disagreed on there) then help us fit the chunks together (or keep them separate) like a bit of a puzzle, to tell apart words even when there are no pauses between them. There are rules in a language, for example, about what sounds can follow each other in the same word. In English words, “zv” is not a combination of sound that can occur (if you found a word that does have these sounds (not letters) together, then it’s likely borrowed from elsewhere), so, once you’ve realized that’s the case, you’ll know that when you hear a set of chunks word ending with the “zv” combination, there must be a word boundary between those two sounds.

What is a Sentence?

I won’t write as long as a piece of text because a lot of the “disagreements” about the definition of a sentence take place in fields I am not as well-versed in (syntax and I have a complicated relationship called I got good grades but I don’t know how and thus don’t trust myself to write a post on it without doing more extensive research than I allowed myself when starting this blog), and this post is currently twice as long as I intended, but again, different branches of linguistics have different needs for their research, and different viewpoints, and thus define it in different ways.

Though, for sentences, I wouldn’t say it’s as complicated as for words. If you look at it in terms of pure grammar and syntax, you could define it as the largest grammatical “container” in a sense (it then contains one or more clauses, phrases, words, and morphemes). In written language, there are specific written conventions or symbols that mark the beginning and end of a sentence. In this case, a capital letter and a period or question or exclamation mark.

After defining a sentences, you can categorize them too (just like words). An interrogative sentence is a question, for example.

In terms of sound, sentences aren’t as interesting to most linguists because then an utterance (which can be less than, equal to, or more than one sentence, as utterances are separated by pauses the speaker makes) is the central element that is looked at. I imagine looking at sentences wouldn’t be as useful until your research also involves some element of grammar.

“And why is the answer ‘we aren’t quite sure?’”

See, conclusion of the post and this veers into “my personal opinion” territory is that I don’t think the answer is “we aren’t quite sure”. It’s more that it’s difficult to figure out a string of words that precisely defines these two concepts in a way that fulfills the needs of all researchers in the field. You know, intuitively, what a word is. For the sentence that may be the same, although it’s also very possible you had a teacher who gave you a definition at some point. We know what they are, it’s just difficult to put into words effectively.

It’s a bit like colors in that sense. If your language distinguishes between red and blue (I believe the grand majority of languages, if not all, do), and you are able to see both of those colors, then you can tell the difference between red and blue, but if I’d ask you and nine others to draw a precise line (lets be Latin and pretend English doesn’t consider purple a separate color here) to separate red from blue, I’d get a line in ten slightly (or maybe even very) different positions, despite you all knowing when a thing is red, and when a thing is blue. It’s just the exact boundary that gets a little smudgy.

[messagefound]

swan

this was my first attempt at writing albatross after oc-fying him. i still like it, but if i were to change anything i would've changed the last bit, and potentially edit the adam part. the last bit feels incoherent, and the adam bit feels outdated to me. either way, i still enjoy its mood.

Summary: Albatross starts a dream journal. He tries not to think of how ominous it got over time.

I have been told it’s proper to address a journal or diary before writing in it, so hello diary. My friends have told me journaling might help ease my “antsy” feelings, so I’ve decided to take this out whenever I go to the beach. The Lady has said it’s okay for me to do so if I do my work first. The problem is, I’m not quite sure I see the point in writing, but I noticed that my Psychopomp doesn’t pull and nip at me as much when I have a pen in my hand. Perhaps this is what my friends meant? They say it helps to listen to them, because they sometimes know us better than we do. 

I do have to say, I’m not even sure why I have one. Brother didn’t have one. The whitecoats at the Place didn’t have any. If the Lady has one, no one’s ever seen it. I didn’t even know what a Psychopomp was until I got here. Mynah told me they and Owl don’t know how they got theirs either, a feather just appeared on their person one day. From that feather came a bird, weird looking birds. It makes it awfully hard to keep things to yourself, because they act out your thoughts. Sometimes they act in ways you haven’t realized apply to you yet. They say when they found me, mine was screaming loudly even as I was unconscious. 

I think maybe that’s why I had that dream before I finally woke up. I wasn’t able to see anything, I just knew something was drilling into my back. It embedded itself deeply, enough that I could feel the pressure on my spine. I felt it stick straight up, and I felt something pull my shoulder blades far too much, far too hard. I thought my bones were going to break. Maybe in the dream I was screaming? Maybe my bird reflected that. Or did its “waking up” cause the dream? It’s all very confusing. 

The breeze feels nice today. I just wish it wasn’t so cold. 

-- 

I don’t miss much about the Place. I don’t like to think about it much. I think it’s good that we got out. There were bad people there. 

The only respite I had was Brother. He would be the one to read me the books we had. When we split, he was the one to retain the reading ability while I had to relearn it. I’m not sure why he seemed to have less trouble than me. He was always the stronger one. I was always sick and weak, which made the whitecoats angry. Brother had to endure so much for me, all the time. 

...maybe when they split us, they messed up? That had to be it. I’m unable to think of any other reason why we were so...disproportionate. I got better though. I haven’t felt sick in a while. Really, all I’ve been feeling is cold. 

My friends found it odd when I picked this woolly coat for my uniform. They keep saying it’s been hot out, and that it would be better if I stick with a more streamlined outfit. I’m not sure why they keep saying that. Every time I go out it’s freezing. Even with this coat on, I keep shivering sometimes. 

I like its texture though. I like using it as a blanket when I sleep sometimes. The inside is cold too, but I feel safe when I drift off surrounded by the wool. 

It reminds me of the dream, not just a dream but the dream, that me and my brother used to share at the Place. I put such emphasis on it because it felt like us, both of us at once. Surely, it’s a memory our former self, our truer self had before the division. 

It’s all so fuzzy to us, but we just remember the warmth. We don’t know where we are, we just know we’re happy. Happy and very sleepy. We’re lying on something soft, something we can’t see but we love so, so much. There was a lot of love, we felt. We loved everything that lay beyond the sepia blur, the things me and Brother couldn’t remember. We loved the warm light, we loved the distant laughter we heard, we loved the birds we could hear but not see. Most of all we loved ourselves, our entire being, all that would become me and my brother. We would fall asleep, gently, slowly, but of course we would both wake up by then. Getting that feeling back was what kept us sane, I think. We wanted that happiness back more than anything. 

It feels odd to think about now. I’m surrounded by people who all have their whole selves intact, and yet most of them never seem happy. Mynah screams at night and fidgets and stares during the day. Owl doesn’t react to many things, even if you were to strike him, he wouldn’t even make eye contact. That Raven boy struts like he owns the place, and yet I wouldn’t think even for a second that a boy his age would be here for a happy reason. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Lady smile, either. 

Maybe they’re missing parts of themselves too but...different from me. I’m missing the outside part; they must be missing the inside. Maybe I’m missing both. 

...I miss Brother. I wish he would come out of the sea already. 

-- 

Was what I had a nightmare? I feel like if I were to explain it to the others they would think so. But does it really count if I just felt...confused? I didn’t wake up scared, nor did I sleep scared. But there had certainly been a lot of blood... 

I dreamed I was watching someone from above, entangled in dead branches in a barren leafless tree and surrounded by many others of its kind. The figure below was hard for me to look at. His face was blurred, garbled in fading blooms like a cataract. I just know his hair was long, both black and white, his clothes were ripped and torn, and his form was so skinny I could see his bones jut from within his skin. 

Something about the sight of him made me very sad. I could feel tears drip down my cheeks and patter down to the scorched earth below. I wasn’t even sure why. I was sure I’ve never seen this person before, and yet I felt I should know him. If nothing else, I should’ve known him, but I still couldn’t see his face the way I wanted. 

I saw him look out into the empty world for a moment. Then I saw him dig his own hands into his sides, hardly making even a cry as he tore out his own ribs. Blood spilled onto the dirt and even the starving earth was too startled to drink it. Even then, he did not react. He only calmly dug holes beneath the boughs, planting each of his ribs within like they were only saplings. 

All the while he kept bleeding. I don’t think most people were supposed to bleed that much. I don’t know how he kept living for as long as he did. 

Once he planted all his ribs, I saw him dig another hole beneath my tree. He didn’t see me up there, and I couldn’t call for him either. I could just...watch. He was digging a much bigger hole, one whose purpose to me was clear when I saw his bleeding, torn-up body that close. 

He patted my tree, gently, as if it were a friend.

“Let this be my gift to you,” he whispered. “Be beautiful for the ones after me.” 

Then he let himself fall into the grave.

I kept crying. I could’ve sworn small green shoots rose from where my tears fell. 

… 

I miss Brother. I hate waiting. 

-- 

I read a book recently about how dreams are supposed to have meaning in them, even the most nonsensical ones. A lot of it just seemed to be completely made up to me. I don’t need to think too hard to guess what nightmares are so common around here. 

I was happy to just have a place to stay at first, but I think it’s gotten to me too. Mynah called it a “panopticon,” something built for prisoners. An immense circular structure lined with small rooms, hardly enough to fill each single person. In the center was another structure, a smaller one, sometimes raised to tower above the lower levels but sometimes not. The idea is that, even though you know full well just one guard can’t inspect everyone at once, you don’t know whether eyes are on you or not. It’s too far away, too small. You just know you can’t risk anything. You can’t show even the slightest ounce of disrespect, because someone might hear, might see, always. 

I think the Lady might’ve done that on purpose. I’ve seen how much she likes it when people cower beneath her, even if she never smiles. Her eyes would widen and flash in different colors. I’ve seen her stomp on people before until their faces were bloody under her heel. Sometimes I don’t think it’s because they even did anything to warrant punishment. I think she just enjoys it. 

I’ve noticed Mynah’s earpieces light up whenever the Lady speaks or even stares in their direction. They would always go very, very quiet whenever that happens. I’ve seen them dig their fingernails so hard into their legs that the fabric rips and I could see them draw blood. 

I can’t ask them about it. It’s simply too dangerous. When I ask too much it goes off and they scream so loud when that happens. I can’t say anything. I mustn’t. I won’t. 

Owl signs the wrong name for the Lady sometimes. When he types, he puts in the wrong name, something Mynah must go in and expunge before anyone else sees. They always seem upset when this happens, but I can’t ask why. Owl doesn’t seem to understand why this step is necessary. He always seems so annoyed whenever Mynah says he couldn’t keep doing this. 

“We can’t let her know you still call her that!” they say. 

I don’t think I can even write it, even when I know what it is. I can’t ask about its significance, or why it means so much to Owl, or why the Lady might hate it. There’s a lot of things I don’t know, and I can’t do. It scares me. I’m scared to be here. I only stay because what if Brother comes back and I’m not here? I must stay. 

I must.

...I was supposed to write my dream down huh? I thought too much. I went down too many winding roads, like this very place. 

… 

I don’t want this to be another Place.

-- 

I think I’m ready to write down my dream now. It’s been happening for a while. 

I would be sitting here, like usual. The breeze would blow past me, and the waves still crash upon the shore in a din still too silent for me. I wait. I shiver. Still nothing happens. I’m still missing a half. As the hours pass, I still try not to let it get to me. I still try not to cry into the silence.

Then I hear a cry in the cerulean sky. I hold out my hands to catch the little bluebird that has just fallen out of the sky like it’s been shot. I see no arrow or bullet in its side, but it still cries into my hand. It’s so small. It hardly fills up the space in both my hands. 

It doesn’t chirp or sing when it cries. It sounds like a little girl, hardly grown enough to leave the nest and fly away. I don’t know why it’s alone, and I don’t think it knows either. It just knows it misses its mother, its flock, its very family. 

I try stroking its back, its neck, holding it close to my chest and cooing at it like a dove would. I treat it cautiously, fearing I would break it with just a touch out of place because I’m just so big compared to its little body. I just keep whispering to it, every fiber of my being suddenly driven to protect this chick that wasn’t mine. 

It still cried. 

I begin to tell it a story, an old story about a robin that died. The sparrow killed him, the fly witnessed it, the fish caught his blood. The beetle makes him a funeral shroud, the owl digs his grave. The rook oversees it, the lark records it, the linnet leads the procession. The dove mourns the most, the kite carries the coffin, the wrens cover it. The thrush sings a psalm, and the bullfinch rings the mourning bell. 

I don’t think it knew what it meant. It just knew the names of the birds, saw there was more of it in the world. 

And yet, it still cried, but it was quieter. 

“Something bad is going to happen,” it said.

I wake then. Every time the little bird says that, and I keep waking. I’ve begun to feel a deep urgency, a feeling of coming doom, and I don’t know what else to do about it. 

I’m scared. 

Brother, please just come out of the water. Isn’t it cold? Why would you want to stay down there? 

[theseerasures]

What are askboxes for if not for shamelessly enabling your friends so please do tell us about Winter's technician vs Weiss's performer

what’s so interesting about Winter and Weiss specifically wrt this trope is that it’s usually the performer who is the Prodigy while the technician is, idk, some hapless second banana who has to work twice as hard just to keep up and has to learn to Let Go and Have Fun or whatever the fuck

it's not that Winter DOESN'T need to learn those things, but the subtext is fairly overt in painting her as the prodigy out of the two of them. she's the oldest, the paragon, the chosen heiress (though in retrospect as the Heir and also Not the Boy she was probably the Unfavorite for both Willow and Jacques). her little tutoring session with Weiss in season 3 reads very much as "why isn't this coming naturally to you it did for me," and every scene she's in during that season paints her as "Weiss, but the Finished Version, who can make it look easy."

Weiss certainly sees (or...saw) her that way. even beyond incredibly obvious hints (mirror help me who am i--Winter!), it's amazing to return to episodes prior to Winter's introduction after we meet her, because only then does it become clear that her fingerprints are all over Weiss. remember i'm not perfect! not yet? or her first combat encounter: head up, shoulders back, right foot forward--not that forward--early Weiss placed so much importance on having the Exact Right Technique, Executing an Attack at the Right Moment, not a hair out of place, and now that we've gotten a fuller sense of Winter's fighting style...

we can see exactly where she got it from. (i made a gif y'all!)

this entire sequence lasts less than four seconds. Ironwood halts her Summon in its tracks, forcing both Winter and Oscar off; Winter pauses her momentum in midair by...idk, the power of anime, fires three icicles from a Glyph, simultaneously pushing off it so she lands before Oscar, even though Oscar DIDN'T stop for a counterattack, and then--without even looking--sends another Glyph to catch Oscar and propel him forward.

some of this bullshit you can definitely just attribute to Rule of Cool, but the point is that this is Winter at Her Best, the Winter that Weiss wanted to be: not a single second or gesture wasted, not a hair out of place. i've already waxed pretentious on why it's so significant that we only see her like this now where in every prior fight she's been ruffled and defensive, but it's relevant here too; Weiss wanted to believe that the Winter we see here is Pure Uncut Winter Schnee, but WE know that's not true.

this has nothing to do with talent. Winter definitely has that in spades, and who knows? maybe she IS more naturally gifted than Weiss, but the point is that she had to discipline it. Winter at her best is Winter honed to a sharp point (the point of a bullet, or the tip of a sword); streamlined and optimized and stripped of all excess, all maddening sloppy touches. she is above all controlled, but her control, as far as we can tell, extends (just like in out of combat situations) to one thing at a time. she is either attacking herself or helping others attack, and she does not give ground. every second is used to press the offense.

so it makes sense why she's dismissive of Weiss and her at least three strikes missed, but it also makes sense why Weiss a) had so much difficulty doing what Winter does and b) has since given up on it to pursue her own style. Weiss was never intended to be anything more than the spare, meant to generate press and money through her artsy performer gig. this was deeply damaging to her self-image, especially when she compared herself to Winter, but it also gave Weiss more room to be the unruly creative, and that's the part she ultimately chooses to nurture.

Weiss Schnee does not move laterally on the battlefield. she spins and pirouettes around in a FUCKING DRESS, she stabs and slashes her sword with relish (though one suspects Winter taught her that part, along with the yelling), and despite months of practice now her Summoning (in contrast to her sister, who once Summoned a Manticore while plummeting to her death) still takes time and a lot of Intense Posing. but she is nonetheless a force to be reckoned with, because she's compensated for those flourishes, and then some. Winter controls the players, with herself as the principle; Weiss controls the entire stage. she creates environmental hazards. she obfuscates. she buffs her friends. she does a twirl before nuking Marrow with four fireballs at once, because she trusts her own ability--and that of her team--to keep the enemy occupied for the duration of the performance.

and at this point performing is a choice. if Weiss had wanted to keep emulating Winter, she could have done it, but at some point she decided not to. at some point she decided to turn what she'd thought was a weakness into a strength. at some point she decided to take the ways her family wounded her, the role they forced her into, and make it her own, and make it willfully, joyfully, into art.

Winter...hasn't allowed herself that luxury. for Winter, her Semblance--and the family, the name, that are inextricable from it--it cannot be anything more than a tool. to think of it as anything else would mean letting it control her, hurt her, but it is too valuable to discard entirely. the only thing she can do is put it to good use.

it's how she thinks about every part of her, in the end.

[shihalyfie]

I’m a diehard 02 fan who does not want a reboot and never wanted a reboot, and here’s why

This is one of my few editorial-esque pieces, but this is something some friends and I have been discussing for a while, and given what’s going on right now, I feel like this needs to be said at some point.

Sometimes I feel like there’s a really massive gap between what 02 fans want (especially diehard ones) and what people think 02 fans want. I'm not saying that media should only be catering to hardcore fans, and if more casual fans of 02 or people who simply just happen to have a stake in the full franchise have their own opinions on what they wanted to see out of 02-related media, that’s perfectly fine, and they have a right to have those expectations. What I’m mainly writing this about is sentiments that talk about how Toei is apparently doing 02 a disservice or sweeping it under the bus by not rebooting it (which basically comes with an implication that giving it respect would mandate it being rebooted just because Adventure was), or talking about how doing a reboot would please 02 fans just by giving their favorite characters more rep. (Although, I suppose the simultaneous reveal of an actual 02-related movie kind of killed any grounds for claiming that the lack of a 02 reboot meant sidelining 02. You can’t really claim that they’re sidelining 02 when they’re making a whole movie, after all...)

Of course, I don’t claim to speak for every single 02 fan out there (so if you’re a 02 fan who doesn’t agree with anything I’m about to say, I apologize and hope I don’t sound presumptuous), and I highly doubt I represent the mainstream, but I felt I should input my perspective as a 02 fan who’s friends with a handful of other 02 fans, who have discussed this extensively and all have the same feelings on the topic, and why it’s kind of frustrating to keep hearing this kind of thing from people who assume that all fans of something should want to see more things that resemble them by default without any more nuance to it.

It won’t actually improve much that’s worth it

I’m going to be blunt about it: I think more people who supposedly want this 02 reboot are people who hate or dislike 02 than people who actually are fans of the series, because they’re doing this under the sentiment that “this was a bad series, so a redo would improve it.” You can especially tell because a lot of people acting like a reboot is in 02′s best interest are the same people being scathingly critical of the current Adventure: reboot right now, so you can see that this kind of mentality comes from people who clearly understand that a reboot won’t necessarily be something everyone likes all that much, and thus believe 02 is so unsalvageably bad that you couldn’t possibly make it worse. So you can probably understand why I’m not exactly patient with this kind of take.

If we are to be charitable, though -- if this sentiment comes out of a genuine feeling that 02 had missed potential that could be addressed by the reboot -- I want to ask everyone if they really believe that this theoretical reboot would be a net improvement, especially one that’s worth all the time and effort involved, and even more especially given the writing style that the current Adventure: reboot is employing. You don’t have to claim it’s a perfect series or anything to understand the sentiment that it held up enough by itself to not necessitate a whole anime series being made to do another take on it.

Something I would like to remind people who love to claim that 02 is such a despised series is that it made around 89% of Adventure’s revenue at the time it aired, and despite those who despise 02 being very vocal on the Internet, the actual mainstream tends to be very positive about it, especially in terms of anything to do with Ken (whom most reasonable people will agree had a character arc that deserves acclaim). So in other words, if you want to do a reboot, most likely you would want to do it without offending the base that likes the series already, right? (Especially since, you know, recent events have proven that upsetting the real-life 02 fanbase is actually a pretty inadvisable idea...)

Here’s the thing: Once you filter out most of the “scapegoat” reasons people tend to criticize 02, the one that’s generally the most agreed upon is how disorganized the plot gets in the second half. So this so-called ideal situation reboot would supposedly iron out all of the messy plot writing and make use of the “wasted potential” the series had -- but 02 was way more than just a narrative storyline with characters walking around in it, and when it comes to the reasons people were so drawn to it, they’re tied to the series themes about regrets and making up for the past, and about the unreasonable pressures that society places on children. That, and also the most important one, the central theme of human relationships, and the charismatic and well-developed (yes, really) characters. The so-called “messier” second half of 02 was full of payoff for a lot of what was set up in the first half in regards to its themes, and a lot of its subplots or character flairs are packed in really small nuances that are easy to miss on the first watch.

What this means is that 02 is a series that works off of a lot of delicate balances. Adventure could be “rebooted” because everything was very clear-cut and straightforward, which meant that you could change almost everything about the plot and still relatively adhere to the primary points of “kids gain self-awareness through a journey in another world”. (Like, I really hate to break it to those who put Adventure on a pedestal, but this is mainly possible because Adventure doesn’t really have much of a plot besides “defeat enemy” followed by “defeat bigger enemy”...) In the case of 02, everything regarding the story is, for better or for worse, much more deeply tied to the plot, the narrative behind the Kaiser and the traces of psychological horror laced into everything, and the second-half evolution mechanic, Jogress, has a lot to do with the developments related to the human relationships narrative. Moreover, a lot of the reasons that people call it “bad” for are deeply tied to the exact same reasons a lot of people like it -- that its takes on certain topics were heavily nuanced and unconventional, meaning it could cover ground that most media wouldn’t go anywhere near -- and so the series loses too much of its identity if those aspects are removed, even if it ostensibly seems like “streamlining” it.

So if you mess with one thing, a lot of it falls apart -- and in fact, considering the writing style that the Adventure: reboot is using right now, it’s hard to imagine that applying it to 02 would make it any better. Actually, it seems like it wouldn’t address any of the grievances anyone has with it to any substantial degree, and it’d be more likely to axe all of the stuff that were integral to 02′s identity, like the social commentary, or the heavy focus on human relationships, or the unusual sort of character nuance it employed, and...basically, we go back to the same question: is this actually worth it?

02 itself was about not having this kind of sentiment

The main reason most 02 fans get upset about the 02 characters not being included in Adventure canon-related things that should rightfully include them is that, quite simply, they’re part of the canon! In fact, most 02 fans like Adventure too, so they like the way 02 built on Adventure’s worldbuilding, and moreover they’re attached to the web of relationships between the Adventure and 02 groups -- 02′s additions to Adventure’s worldbuilding and the nature of what it established around the neighborhoods of Odaiba and Tamachi were not only added on but also deeply entangled with what was established before, so you can’t just act like none of it exists!

So this also means that once we’re talking about a completely different universe, absolutely none of this applies and there’s no expectations to adhere to any of this. The 02 quartet doesn’t exist in this universe? Cool.

Funny thing about 02: one of the biggest themes the story revolved around was “not getting caught up in the past, and moving forward with what you have instead,” so it’s probably pretty understandable that a lot of people who like 02 would be the type who wouldn’t be fond of rehashing stuff too much (and even more so it involves 02 itself), especially since being okay with 02 as a sequel likely means being okay with change in general. To make something really new out of it, you might as well...actually make something new out of it, or cover some truly new territory, instead of bothering with this whole reboot business, you know?

One thing you might notice about a lot of 02 fans is that they’re not actually all that fond of the idea of canon putting the group through more massive suffering or emotional ordeals after 02 compared to most. I mean, I think it’s pretty normal to enjoy your favorite characters going through emotional trouble, but the aversion to it often tends to be much stronger than usual, regardless of what country’s fanbase we’re talking, and even the official staff for Kizuna seems to have somewhat recognized that the 02 group is most in its element when in the context of fun and silliness. All things considered, this probably isn’t particularly surprising when you take into account the fact that “just being able to hang out with each other as casual friends at all” was considered such a blessing, and such a difficult goal to reach, that there’s a natural aversion to seeing them go through more emotional suffering again. The new trailer for the upcoming movie seems to have Daisuke in a relatively good mood (and even then, “please don’t make it too emotionally vicious for them” is a pretty common plea).

So if you want to talk about rehashing all of their old problems, seeing it all over again is just not very fun. It’s like holding Ken’s sins over his head again, even if it’s in a different universe; it just doesn’t feel right when the series itself endorsed the best possible outcome for these kids to be “to live happily and at peace with themselves, no matter what happened beforehand”. They worked so hard to get out of it, so to decide we have to do this entire rodeo again for the sake of doing it again, instead of trying something new is...well, it’s not that appealing of an idea, I have to say.

The real-life impact would be intolerable

It’s no secret that the 02 hatedom is a bit uncomfortably vocal about it, but what tends to be really frustrating about it is how many of them love to dunk on the series based on misremembering it. It’s fair that, if you don’t like a series, you probably wouldn’t want to watch it again, but as someone who’s spent a lot of years unpacking all the little details in the series and noticing that it’s much deeper than it initially seems on the surface, it’s honestly annoying to see “criticism” of the series that’s actually just dunking on it based on details that are genuinely factually incorrect (it’d be one thing if it were a question of subjectivity, but no, so many of the insults 02 often gets are based on things that legitimately did not happen in the series).

In the end, I admit that 02′s penchant for ridiculous subtlety probably worked against it a bit too much, and I’ve already covered its impact on how the series gets misread a lot. Thing is, this kind of subtlety was a thing in Adventure too, and it all leads to the unfortunate effect that a lot of people tend to forget what actually happened in Adventure if they haven’t seen it for more than a few years. With the current reboot right now, you’ll see people saying that certain characters are the same as they were in the original series, even though in most respects they’re actually the opposite -- because a lot of said people only remember them by the surface characteristics that seem to be similar.

So when you look at 02, and consider the fact that even official media -- including the official American English dub and V-Tamer -- has been a bit too prone to not handling Daisuke’s character tastefully and reducing him to traits that make him easy to dislike, you might realize that handling these characters improperly runs an extremely high risk of actually turning them into the flat, unlikeable characters that people tend to accuse them of being -- imagine Daisuke where his entire character is about fixating over Hikari and being impulsive, or Miyako being nothing but self-centered and selfish, or Iori being genuinely stoic and missing the nuances of constantly holding his emotions back. And making it worse is that this would basically solidify these negative perceptions of the characters even further -- because people, especially those inclined to hate the series, would take it as further evidence that the characters have always been like this, reflect it back on the original, and everything would really just become a miserable experience. (Those who are particularly inclined to be malicious against 02 would probably even claim a reboot to be “better than the original” no matter whatever it is, because of the belief that 02 is so incredibly terrible that literally anything would be better than it.)

It’s not my business to dictate other people’s opinions, but it’s already been a frustrating twenty years of dealing with this kind of thing, so of course I’m not going to be enthusiastic about the idea of putting up with more of it...

[thetypedwriter]

Gideon the Ninth Book Review

Gideon the Ninth Book Review by Tamsyn Muir 

It would be only a slight hyperbole to say that a million people have either recommended this book to me or have told me to read it. I’ve heard for years now that this book is incredible and extremely well written and beloved by many. So, if that’s the case why did I wait so long to read it?

I don’t have a good answer. Sometimes a book is on your radar, but either the time isn’t right, other books take priority, or in my case, it’s adult fiction and I held slight trepidation that I wouldn’t love it as much as everyone else in the world seemed to. 

Thank goodness, that didn’t end up being the case and I’ll get into why in a moment. 

First, Gideon the Ninth has the most amazing descriptive sentence belonging on any front cover of any book ever. 

I shall put it here for prosperity and awe: “Lesbian necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space!” -Charles Stross. 

Now, I don’t know who you are Mr. Stross, but that has to be the best sentence written in the English language since its conception. If that isn’t enough intrigue for you to crack open the novel then I truly don’t know what is or what it would take. 

That being said, Mr. Stross wasn’t entirely accurate, but that’ll be clear soon enough. 

The novel surrounds our main protagonist, Gideon Nav, or, known as Gideon the Ninth, the primary cavalier to the Ninth House necromancer. Essentially, this world takes place in a different solar system with its own sun star known as Dominicus as well as nine planets also known as the Nine Houses. 

Each House has a specific specialty for what is known for, and as summarized helpfully, but also overwhelmingly, at the beginning of the novel, the Ninth House is also known as the keepers of the Locked Tomb, House of the Sewn Tongue, and home to the Black Vestals. 

This meant nothing to me at the beginning and quite truthfully, I still struggled to remember throughout the novel who belonged to the Third House, or the Fifth and what that quite meant, as once again, each House has a reputation and expected skill set that precedes them. 

Not to say that it was poorly written because it wasn’t. Muir just has a lot of characters with specific titles and while she actually does quite a good job of categorizing them and helpfully reminding you who is who, I still struggled with just the sheer amount of information and people. 

Normally, this would be a massive criticism, like it was with the cast of characters in Lore but in this case it’s not Muir’s fault. She’s giving me all the information necessary to understand. It was just my brain that struggled trying to recognize and categorize everyone. If anything, I’m excited to re-read Gideon the Ninth and have it sink in like a second skin eventually. 

Having this large cast of characters, the book revolves around each of the Nine Houses (except for the First House) sending their best necromancer, a wielder of both thanergy (death energy) and thalergy (life energy) in the form of a House Adept, someone who is able to wield this kind of energy either in bone magic, flesh magic, or spirit magic. 

In accompaniment, each Necromancer Adept has a primary Cavalier, a trained fighter that is both protector, companion, and often, necessary energy suppliers to their Adept in both horrendous and acceptable ways. 

The goal of these pairs, having been sent to the First planet, is to become a Lyctor, an immortal servant to the Undying Emperor. The catch is that once the Necromancers and their Cavaliers arrive on the First, the shuttle departs and they are trapped in an abandoned, dilapidated, once-regal and great mansion that boasts hundreds of floors, secret doors, and mystery upon mystery. 

Each pair expects a streamlined process to Lyctorhood once they arrive, a methodical procedure, perhaps some training, and ultimately a test. What they don’t expect is a mellow man by the name of Teacher that claims to know nothing about the process himself, but is the overseer of the First. 

What follows is a mind-boggling search to become a Lyctor and unravel the mysteries of the haunted palace. What the pairs don’t expect is the death of their own, gruesome murders at the hand of someone in their very own positions and an evil danger beyond any of their imagination lurking in the mansion. 

This novel was a great concoction of mystery, action, interpersonal relationships, character growth, dazzling descriptions, and world building. 

The world of Dominicus and the Nine Houses is expansive and rich, something that I haven’t been able to sink my teeth into, and not for lack of trying, but because it is so deep and so layered that I simply need to take several bites to get it all down.

The mystery is fulfilling and strangely, to me at least, reminiscent of a game called Danganronpa. If you know what that is, and even if you don’t, it centers around the idea of a murder mystery, but where the killer is one of your own and the mystery is trying to figure out not ony the who, but the why of what they are doing, amongst a slew of other deadly riddles.

Gideon the Ninth is the same. As people continue to get picked off and brutally murdered, as a reader you find yourself trying to puzzle out not only who, but why someone would commit such atrocities and the motivation behind it. 

The plot itself of Gideon the Ninth was extremely satisfying and alluring. There were times where I personally found that novel bogged down with excessive description, but it was usually broken up with Gideon’s personal brand of crass humor, a very much needed breather with the expansive exposition, that, while extremely well done, well researched, and well written, did get a tad boring from time to time for me personally, even if it allowed for clear imagery as well as adding to already well formed world building. 

In addition to the plot, all of the characters were well done and as fleshed out as they could be considering the amount of characters involved. First, even though this is set in a fantasy sci-fi setting, each of the characters seemed realistic and like they could potentially be real people. 

A large criticism of books I often have, especially in YA, is that the characters often come across like caricatures, and not real flesh and blood humans with both positive and negative qualities. 

Each character, some developed more than others, have both flaws and strengths, even the main characters, which I highly appreciated. Not only does it make the story more real and palatable, but it also is just more interesting to read about as it’s actually based in humanity and the nature of human beings rather than some perfect carbon copy of one. 

Gideon as a narrator was hilarious. She was often crass, blunt, horny, humorous and ignorant. But on the other hand, she was also an extremely talented fighter, actually very sweet deep down, forgiving, and loving. 

This mix in a main character was a welcome one in addition to making Gideon feel like a real person, despite all the bone magic and necromancy, and often her thought process and dialogue made me laugh out loud. 

Another main character, Harrowhark Nonagesimus (What a name!) is Gideon’s Necromancer and main companion. She’s bitter, rude, spiteful, and ruthless. She’s also hardworking, intelligent, and stubborn. 

If you’re catching the pattern here, Muir isn’t just writing archetypes and passing them off as characters. She’s writing complex and nuanced personalities that are intriguing and interesting and well developed. 

I could get into the other plethora of characters like Camila, Dulcinea, Palamedes, Magnus, Judith and so on, but this review would be a thousand pages long so I’ll just settle for saying that every character was well done and lovingly crafted and not one of them, even the annoying ones, were characters that I hated. 

One important thing to note was Muir’s writing itself. It was incredible. Such descriptions! Such characterization! Such detail! Such vocabulary! I was supremely impressed with her writing as a whole and often found myself having to look up words that I had never heard of in my life (always a welcome change of pace). I was blown away by her sheet talent and creativity. 

The last two things I have to note might get me in trouble. 

One, the ending for me was...bittersweet. For fear of spoiling someone, I won’t get into details, but I found it both lacking and simultaneously making absolute sense. I wanted both more and yet, found that everything was just enough. It’s hard to put into words, but if you know, you know. 

I do have a slightly sinking feeling though that the ending twist will somehow be undone in the sequel. I don’t know if this is true (although I will eventually find out), and I can’t decide if I’m going to be happy or dismayed by it. 

Such conflicting feelings are in of itself homage to Muir’s skill as a writer and the complexities of her tale. 

Lastly, the one aspect that might get me into the stickiest of predicaments: Harrowhark’s and Gideon’s relationship. I don’t know if I like it or not. On the one hand, I absolutely love it. It's a hate-to-love slow burn, which really is the only way an OTP makes its way into my heart. I love that they’re so different and yet so compatible, one flesh and one blood and all that other nonsense. 

They see each other as equals, as adversaries, and I adore that dynamic in any pairing. I also love the F/F representation of some badass women and that they’re not traditionally attractive and beautiful. 

One of my favorite lines came from the end of the book where Gideon describes Harrowhark’s face as, “bitter” and “hateful”. I just love when characters aren’t conventionally gorgeous and yet beautiful in the eyes of the beholder and all that jazz. 

Now. Onto the problems. 

Harrowhark’s and Gideon’s relationship is kinda...toxic? It grows into something less so, but it definitely starts off that way. I really hate imbalances of power of any kind and Harrowhark definitely has power over Gideon, power that she creully abuses. I asked myself: if Harrowhark was a man and treated Gideon so abysmally for years, and then Gideon eventually forgave him and loved him despite everything, would I think differently?

And the answer is yes, yes I would. 

Is that fair? Probably not. But I can’t help but think how the dynamics change with the two of them being women, and how in my opinion, I think more is forgiven of Harrowhark because of it, even when it’s not deserved. 

Now, Harrowhark is a complex character and has traumas of her own, but I just can’t help but think of all the things she did to Gideon and the things she took away from her and forced her to do and then think of them together and it’s...not great. 

Overall, my feelings on their relationship are complicated (which is a repeated pattern when it comes to Muir’s writing) and I don’t mind that it’s complicated, it makes it interesting, but I also would be bereft to mention it here. I look forward to seeing how it develops and if my feelings change and grow on the matter as well. 

In total, Gideon the Ninth is a fantastic read. It has everything you want inlaid with characters who not only push the plot along, but incentivize you to read more. It has complicated issues and complicated characters, but that means it’s nuanced and complex and juicy enough to bite into. 

Don’t do what I did and wait years for this novel. If you need a good read, you don’t need to look any further and then let yourself be swept along for the necromantic ride. 

Recommendation: “Lesbian necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space!” -Charles Stross. I mean. Come on people, what more can you ask for?

Score: 8/10 

[zenalios]

Untamed Seas; 5 - Shadowed

Index (R18+)

Summary

Amphitrite, sea goddess, and daughter of Nereus, is less than willing to marry an Olympian, let alone Poseidon, the very god who overthrew her father. She does so nevertheless, in a desperate move to protect her sisters following Nereus’ absence.

The marriage is beneficial to them both: Poseidon gains legitimacy through a union with her, effectively solidifying his control over the seas, and Amphitrite guarantees her sisters' safety, along with all prestige due her status as queen.

The catch? She finds his domineering personality utterly insufferable, and he, the most fearsome god, resents being stuffed into an unwelcome marriage.

They have all eternity to make it work.

TW // Abuse - Verbal and Physical ; Abusive Relationship ; Forced Marriage

The time had come for the bride’s veil to be removed. Having thoroughly showered the new queen in a flood of fruits and nuts to symbolize fertility and prosperity, along with whispered well wishes, the wedding guests and servants hastily filed out of the throne room. 

It was then that Amphitrite, daughter of the sea god Nereus and river nymph Doris, was left amidst the mess, with but a single dolphin as the goddess’s escort to the bridal chamber. 

Her heels were sore from standing nearly the entire duration of the feast at Olympus greeting her new in-laws, a wild frenzy which had flown by without any opportunity for her to savour the occasion and her last moments of freedom. This made her rather grateful for the brief respite the palace denizens had granted her in the form of peace and quiet. 

Now was a good time to shake out a few nuts from the folds of her skirt, and sweep away into her palm some dried fruits, the latter of which she did not discard, but furtively snuck into her mouth —not that she was hungry, she merely needed something to gnaw at and ease her misery.

“This way, Your Majesty.”

Amphitrite raised her eyebrows, still chewing. Had the creature bowed any lower, it would have tilted over and performed a front flip through the water. The mere thought of it alone caused her to accidentally bite down on her tongue. The bitter taste of ichor briefly filled her mouth; it did not mix well with the dried fruits she had just consumed. At this, her chest heaved. She put a fist to her mouth, another hand cradling her abdomen. She rather wished her stomach would give up its contents. 

Maybe she wouldn’t have to meet him then. 

Curses, the dolphin had raised its head. The goddess forced her shoulders to relax and unclenched her jaw, staring out into the abyssal hallway ahead. Breathe, she reminded herself. Three deep breaths and a very slow exhale later, however, and she still wasn’t ready. “Your Majesty?” The dolphin’s voice echoed.

“Just—" Amphitrite held up her hand, turning away from the poor beast as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just give me a moment.”

“Ah, yes Your Majesty!”

She tried to think of other things instead. Like how Erato had cried upon seeing her once more, how the rest of her sisters had bid her farewell as her wedding procession departed for Olympus, their precious tears glistening against the dancing twilight sky, how many gifts her new subjects had eagerly pressed into her hands as they slowly followed after her chariot, shuffling behind her in droves every step of the way to the ocean’s depths, how thoughtful it had been of Hera, Hestia, and Demeter to decorate the wedding halls with deep blue corals in her preferred colour as opposed to gold the shade of her newly-wed husband’s… hair.

The hand she had raised fell to her side. Poseidon. Her husband. 

Amphitrite straightened. 

As if she was not miserable enough, the reminder of who it was she had married, and what exactly he had not done, only infuriated her all the more. Granted, she now knew the marriage was also against his wishes —something Demeter had accidentally revealed at the feast —but he had not even been in attendance, had refused to dignify, and accordingly, acknowledge her, and remained so even upon her arrival at his palace. Poseidon had not appeared throughout the entire ceremony at all. Instead, some upstart nymphs were charged with bringing her to the throne room’s hearth, their numbers barely enough. It was a far cry from the utmost care and attention her new sisters-in-law had put into hosting the elaborate feast held prior to her departure. 

What really grated at her, however, was that Zeus had travelled to Oceanus in the form of a dolphin to pressure her into this marriage, and now she was still being led by one to consummate it. 

Call her stupid for attending that party and gaining her fellow gods’ attentions, but how could a simple nymph like her have expected that the most lecherous member of the triumvirate would go against his word and actually attend. It was supposed to have been a simple affair on an island hosted by Amaltheia and other minor gods, her sisters and herself attending in their missing father’s stead, without the king of gods present, without leading to her being chased, no, hunted down, to her grandfather’s waters, without her sister being taken hostage in exchange for her agreement.

Only a digging sensation in her palms made her aware of how tight she had squeezed her trembling fists. Now released, they left little red crescents where her nails had been. She stared at the imprints a little longer, as if they could tell her who the exact source of her misfortune had been, or what, even, this particular emotion was supposed to be.

The dolphin started as Amphitrite cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry.” She said awkwardly, shooting the creature a quick smile that dropped without even meeting her eyes. Her body was still quivering from the adrenaline that pumped through her unsteady heart. She inhaled deeply once more as she readjusted her veil and allowed the air to slowly slip through her lips.

“Let’s go.”

The passage itself felt suffocating. Though the three Olympian goddesses had painstakingly redecorated Poseidon’s palace to welcome its new mistress, and in accordance with her tastes as well, it still did not change the fact that the goddess herself remained uneager to meet her new husband, let alone be his wife.

At first her escort swam immediately beside her short of grasping her arm, as if fearing her dragging pace meant she planned to vanish midway on their little journey to her husband’s quarters. If only she could. Perhaps it worried she would stall for more time, and delay the ceremony so as to invoke the sea king’s wrath, as to be expected from someone who behaved as though the world revolved around him; this was most likely the case, she realised. 

Though Amphitrite had yet to meet Poseidon himself —again, she bore absolutely no inclination whatsoever to consort with someone who had ousted her father, and she could not guarantee that she would not slap him upon making his acquaintance— rumour was it that he lived and breathed the concept of “perfection”. They even went so far as to call him a “god among gods”.

Was it any wonder, then, that her arrival had been more lacklustre than her own family's welcome for a new maidservant? Such a vain god expected time and the world to stop for him, even when he himself would not stop for others. Like father, like son, she thought with distaste. She had already met Zeus, and he was bad enough. Unfortunately, such a god had now become her husband, and she would have to live with it for all eternity. 

Small wonder then, that her sisters-in-law had tried their best to ensure a grand festival on her side; they must have known things would fail miserably on her husband’s end. 

Amphitrite blinked. The dolphin was now a short way ahead of her in the passage. Did I stop? She couldn’t recall having done so since they had left the throne room and the rest behind.

“It’s alright, Your Majesty.” It spoke before she had the chance to ask. “You will be good for him.” This time, her footsteps did grind to a halt. Amphitrite stared at the creature in disbelief. 

“Really.” She noted sarcastically. It was true. She was doing Poseidon a favour, not the other way round.

A minute later the dolphin gasped, as though it had committed some unspoken cardinal sin —really, she could not tell what swam through that sleek grey head, or what the creature was overreacting to. “My apologies for speaking to you without permission.” Oh. So that was why. She nodded .

“Er- Your Majesty,” it hastily added, only adding to her bemused state. What a shame her thoughts of Poseidon had stifled any laughter that might have bubbled. Nevertheless, she could still afford a smile, this one more genuine than the last; now she allowed it to reach her eyes, and it stayed even as her chest grew tight.

“Is that so.” Were those words the truth or merely what the creature thought she wanted to hear? Amphitrite scrutinized the dolphin for a moment, before shaking her head, “I’m sorry.”

At this, the dolphin shot her a quizzical look. She supposed it was not used to being on the receiving end of an apology, least of all from a god, considering just who it was the creature served.

As she opened her mouth to explain, an afterthought struck her from the shadows cast over dim light. Surely it had been a figment of her imagination? Upon second glance at her shape and the dolphin’s streamlined figure flickering against the wall, the bend of a strategically-placed vase curved to reveal the edge of a twitching tail. One that could not possibly belong to her, for she had never possessed a tail, nor the dolphin, whose fins were smooth and sleek —everything this one was not. The longer she stared, the more apparent it soon became to Amphitrite that more tails lay in other similarly inconspicuous locations, each a foreign presence to her. 

The young queen now swallowed whatever thoughts she initially possessed of confiding her feelings in the creature. Perhaps she should not even have apologized to begin with. After all, the creature served Poseidon himself, and so did the many pairs of eyes watching her still. And if they all served him, did that not mean they were defectors who had betrayed the memory of her father? 

Feeling exposed, she tugged the veil forward to cover her bare arms. It all made sense to her now, she thought miserably. The nymphs that greeted her upon arrival now lay hidden to scorn the daughter of their previous king, their previously whispered words carrying not blessings but ill-wishes. The same sense of grief that had struck her upon departure from her sisters washed over her anew: the realisation that she was well and truly alone in this palace.

Amphitrite grit her teeth, willing herself to endure their stares. “It’s nothing.” In truth, the bridal chamber was not so far away, the greater distance completed when she was escorted to the throne room itself. From there onwards, it was merely a simple trip into the heart of the palace. However, it was still larger than her father’s grotto, and far more stifling owing to the expectant audience that surrounded her. 

By the time Amphitrite’s thoughts ground to a halt alongside her own footsteps, the newly-wed bride was utterly dour.

Her escort swam forward, rapping once, then twice, on a looming pair of golden doors. “Her Majesty has arrived.” There was no response. Amphitrite’s scornful frown deepened. Just a cubit away, her ears picked up on chittering from the hidden nymphs. The dolphin cleared its throat. It knocked again, speaking louder this time, “Her Majesty has come for the night.” Amphitrite folded her arms, glancing upwards with an impatient huff; still no answer. 

As a result, more whispers were thrown in her direction, wearing Amphitrite’s nerves dangerously thin. Either they knew that she knew they were there, and simply did not care, or they remained blissfully unaware of the fact that their voices had increased in volume, so revealing their presence to her.

Growing up Nereus’s firstborn, the new sea queen was used to being stared at by the multitude, had practically been raised to ignore their presence as she carried about her business. It was the only reason she had been able to cope up till now. But now, their voices were an extremely unwelcome addition in this smothering hallway —her skin crawled with every murmur and response, that even the silk veil placed over her hair tugged at each follicle, further weighing her scalp down with every turn and swish. Her nails bit down on her arms in a desperate attempt to prevent herself from being overwhelmed. 

It was the lowest moment of her life after her father’s disappearance, and these upstarts had come all the way to watch her, to laugh at her suffering.

“You’re a goddess now.”  Hestia said earlier that morning during the nuptial bath as Amphitrite was being scrubbed down, “I believe you will be a good one.” Sorry, Hestia, a small voice within her apologised, though Amphitrite herself remained unsure what exactly for.

The next time she heard another sound, the sea queen whirled towards that particular column. 

“Enough!” She snapped viciously. 

One stamp, and the maiden was sent hurtling against the opposite wall with a loud thump. 

The only relief such an act of violence brought was release and a small sense of satisfaction as the rest began to scatter away; deep down, she felt sick to her stomach at the way the girl had hit her head, now limp and unmoving. 

Only two nymphs lingered behind, hesitating as to whether they should save themselves first or leave their friend to her demise. They flinched when she turned to them. 

“Take her and go.” She ground out, waving her hand at the offending nymph. At once, the pair sprung into action, one hurrying forward to grab the girl, the other looping a limp arm around her. Both hastily bowed as they retreated.

Amphitrite released a shaky breath. 

Now that the nymphs were truly gone, the goddess was forced to face the extent of her actions. She needn’t have gone that far when a simple “Begone!” would have sufficed to send them scurrying. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her escort raise a trembling flipper to knock once more. 

A pang of regret shot through her chest. It was something she imagined only Poseidon would do, and now she had stooped to his level too. 

The dolphin’s attempt was met with a hand. This unwanted marriage deserved no such pomp and circumstance: if the groom himself did not care for it, then neither would she. “Enough,” The bride spoke firmly, a trace of bitterness creeping into her words. She tentatively pushed at the door —and winced.

A sudden stream of golden light burst through the darkness.

“I can do it myself."

4 - Enalios, β ; 6 - Brine

[natromanxoff]

How prog were Queen?

By Dave Everley

On 9 January, 1971, Kevin Ayers and Genesis played a show together at the Ewell Technical College near Epsom in Surrey. Ayers was 18 months out of Soft Machine, and making a name for himself as a psychedelically-inclined art-folk rake. Genesis had released their second album, Trespass, a few months earlier, and were carving out a place in the vanguard of the burgeoning progressive rock movement.

There was a third band propping up the bill that night, a bunch of transplanted Londoners calling themselves Queen. In contrast to the wilfully artful approach of the headliners, their music was more straightforward: a heavy, if ornate blend of Led Zeppelin’s earthiness and the flights of fancy of Yes.

Not everyone in the small crowd watching them was impressed, but they caught the attention of one person. After the show, Genesis frontman Peter Gabriel pulled Queen’s blond-bombshell drummer Roger Taylor to one side. Gabriel’s band were about to dismiss their own drummer, John Mayhew, and were looking for a replacement. Was Taylor interested in joining Genesis? The reply was instant: thanks but no thanks. Taylor was utterly dedicated to Queen – there were gigs to play, places to go, and many musical adventures to embark on.

Had Taylor accepted the offer, the course of music – and specifically prog – would have been very different. Genesis would have flourished with Gabriel upfront, though whether they would have survived and prospered as they did without a Phil Collins to step into the breach after their talismanic singer’s departure was another matter.

The knock-on effect on Queen would have been greater. Taylor was an essential part of their carefully balanced four-way chemistry; a chemistry that would go on to throw up some of the most ambitious and game-changing music ever recorded. While Queen weren’t a capital ‘P’ prog band, they were infused with the spirit of the movement, combining its forward-looking values with its absolute disregard for the existing rules. Taking their cues from the likes of Yes, Genesis, Van der Graaf Generator and even Pink Floyd, their flamboyantly cavalier approach would go on to inspire such modern masters as Dream Theater, Queensrÿche and Muse. And, in Bohemian Rhapsody, they ensured that one of the biggest-selling singles in history was, at heart, a prog song. Forget the luxuriant moustaches and sawn-off mike-stands that would come to define them: if the prog ethos meant avoiding the expected, then Queen were definitely a prog band.

“Diversity was probably their greatest asset,” says former Dream Theater drummer and confirmed Queen devotee Mike Portnoy. “From song to song, they could be so different. You could have something that was folk followed by something that was rockabilly followed by something that was metal. And that’s one of the biggest things about prog, having that open-mindedness.”

Queen’s schooling in prog came early on. Brian May’s very first band, 1984, played a 4am slot supporting Pink Floyd at the Christmas On Earth Continued all-nighter in 1967. A year later, his next outfit, Smile – also featuring Roger Taylor – played with Floyd again, this time at London’s Imperial College. By the time of their gig opening for Kevin Ayers, Smile had changed their name to Queen and recruited Freddie Mercury. Collectively, they admired Yes, Van der Graaf Generator and especially Genesis. “Foxtrot is a prog rock classic,” Roger Taylor later wrote in the sleevenotes to Genesis box set 1970-1975. “Arrangements were highly complex in these early days, setting a benchmark for the style of the times.”

When it came to finding someone to produce their debut album, Queen’s first choice was John Anthony, who had worked with both Genesis and Van der Graaf. With Anthony and co-producer Roy Thomas Baker behind the desk, the eponymous album trod heavily in Led Zeppelin’s footsteps. But there was another, altogether more visionary band straining to spread their wings: My Fairy King was a filigreed slice of flamboyant rock’n’roll, while Liar metamorphosised through several different time changes and timings.

Those wings were fully unfurled on the follow-up, 1974’s Queen II. The title was the most prosaic thing about the record: the music inside was as fevered and baroque as rock gets, informed equally by Zeppelin, Yes and crazed Victorian artist Richard Dadd, whose 1864 painting The Fairy Feller’s Master-Stroke inspired one of the album’s most prog-leaning tracks. It may have been rooted in the heavy rock of the times, but its cavalier approach and sheer sense of scale pegged Queen as a defiantly progressive proposition.

“Queen weren’t like Yes, who had a dualistic role of guitar and keyboards, where both shared the terrain,” says Yes guitarist Steve Howe, supported by Queen at Kingston Poly in early 1971. “Brian had the terrain to himself. The remarkable thing was that he was the front and the back man. It required him to come up with more than guitar solos… He had to come up with a semi-thematic approach to play the guitar. And what he did was keep colouring.”

Queen’s prog inclinations would be deeply woven into the fabric of their early albums, from the audacious multi-part theatrics of Queen II’s March Of The Black Queen to the schizophrenic attack of the two-part Lap Of The Gods from 1974’s Sheer Heart Attack. Even in their more commercial moments, they marched to the beat of their own drum. What other band would have dared serve up something so unusual as Killer Queen?

“It was their diversity,” says Mike Portnoy, who first heard Queen as an eight-year-old in the mid-70s and covered many Queen songs while in Dream Theater. “Their albums took the prototype that The Beatles laid down with the White Album, where you had four different artists bringing in very different styles. Every song was so diverse. You get to A Night At The Opera, and you had this giant multi-layered epic like Bohemian Rhapsody next to something like Seaside Rendezvous or Love Of My Life.”

A Night At The Opera was Queen’s grand artistic statement and their most unashamedly prog album. Pitched around the epic twin tentpoles of The Prophet’s Song and Bohemian Rhapsody, it married their far-reaching vision to a distinctly British barminess. Taken on its own, the eight-minute The Prophets Song, with its incredible ornate a cappella middle section, would be enough to grant Queen access to the Prog Hall Of Fame. But even that sits in the inescapable shadow of Bohemian Rhapsody. Time and success might have lessened its impact, but that song remains the most dazzlingly unique piece of music ever to sell five million copies.

“There are epic things that come along every so often,” says Steve Howe. “There’s Sgt Pepper, there’s Bridge Over Troubled Water. And there’s Bohemian Rhapsody. I don’t know when I first heard it, but once it was there, it was such a formidable thing. You’re thinking: ‘How many tracks did they need to do those vocals? How did they write it? Who invented it? It really was astounding.”

Bohemian Rhapsody encapsulated one of the key things that gave Queen such a distinct identity. Like The Beatles and Beach Boys before them, they used the studio as an instrument – not least when it came to their vocals. And Bohemian Rhapsody raised the bar about as high as it could go.

“They sang each of those parts and triple-stacked them,” says Mike Portnoy. “You heard all three of their voices singing in all three vocal ranges. That’s what made the depth of their music so complex. It wasn’t the instrumentation, it was the vocals. That’s unusual for prog music. When I think of my favourite prog music, it’s always the musicianship that draws me. But with Queen, it was the vocals. It was so deep.”

For all its success, A Night At The Opera would be Queen’s grand kiss-off to their prog roots. Later albums streamlined their sound into a more conventional format. Much like Genesis, the 80s found them swapping experimentalism for chart rock.

It wasn’t until the end of their career as an active band that Queen would again sound so adventurous. During 1989 and 1990, the band began work on their penultimate album, Innuendo, in London and Montreux. In the summer of 1990, Yes guitarist Steve Howe paid a flying visit to the Swiss city, where a chance encounter with a former guitar tech found him being invited to Queen’s studio to hear the album as a work-in-progress.

“Inside, there’s Freddie, Brian and Roger all sitting together. They go: ‘Let’s play you the album,’” says Howe. “Of course, I’m hearing it for the first time: I Can’t Live Without You, I’m Going Slightly Mad. And they saved Innuendo itself until last. They played it and I was fucking blown away.”

If that was surprising, then what happened next was utterly out-of-the-blue. The members of Queen asked if Howe wanted to play on the title track. The Yes man politely suggested they’d lost their minds. It took the combined weight of Mercury, May and Taylor to persuade him.

“They all chimed in: ‘We want some crazy Spanish guitar flying around over the top. Improvise!’” recalls Howe. “I started noodling around on the guitar, and it was pretty tough. After a couple of hours, I thought: ‘I’ve bitten off more than I can chew here.’ I had to learn a bit of the structure, work out the chordal roots were, where you had to fall if you did a mad run in the distance; you have to know where you’re going. But it got towards evening, and we’d doodled and I’d noodled, and it turned out to be really good fun. We have this beautiful dinner, we go back to the studio and have a listen. And they go: ‘That’s great. That’s what we wanted.”

Released as a single in January 1991, Innuendo gave Queen their third Number One single. Like Bohemian Rhapsody 25 years before it, it was as unlikely as hit singles get: a six-and-a-half minute musical jigsaw, complete with flamenco runs, classically-inclined orchestral overloads and maverick 5/4 timing. Queensrÿche covered the song on 2007’s Take Cover album, while you can hear its echo in Radiohead’s Paranoid Android and Muse’s more elaborate sci-fi epics.

“In the world of rock, Queen stands out as a good example of the clash between guitar and piano in songwriting,” Muse’s Matt Bellamy has said. “I think that’s where you stumble across those more unusual arrangements and chord structures.”

Today, Queen have left a bi-polar legacy. They’re arguably best known for their pop hits – Radio Gaga, I Want To Break Free and of course, Bohemian Rhapsody, that ultimate prog Trojan Horse. But their spirit of adventure remains unmatched by all but the boldest of their peers.

“There was no rulebook for Queen,” says Mike Portnoy. “They broke most of the rules that existed, and then they wrote a new set.”

[avoutput]

Of Awe And Spice || Dune

I was dreading the upcoming release of Denis Villeneuve’s take on Dune, and not at all because of Denis. I have a long history of walking the tightrope on my interest in science fiction, specifically the kind that drenches the world building in political intrigue, long histories, or semi-realized special abilities, of which Dune is guilty of all three. The bright spot in all of this was the directors previous takes on two major science fiction landmarks of the past decade, Blade Runner 2049 and Arrival, some of the most competent sci-fi films I had ever seen. Many modern sci-fi films tend to go for more visual flare that send audiences on a sensory roller coaster rather than more human fare of morals and ethics against a foreign, but familiar background. In my opinion, as a book, Dune is a tome enjoyed by only the deepest sci-fi fans. People who want to live, feel, and taste every nook and cranny of a fictional place beyond time and space. I found myself face down, asleep in several paragraphs of the book over my many attempts to complete it, back in the days when I wanted to earn some sense of nerd cred. So color me pleasantly surprised when Villeneuve’s latest film streamlined everything I hated about the book, making an unbearable experience into an elegant tale.

I apologize for belaboring this, but I never enjoyed the mintua of Dune. It had some interesting characters, some intriguing moments, and a deep world, but even thinking about it would put me to sleep. I used to count Spice instead of sheep to get to sleep. It didn’t help that David Lynch’s version was an uninhabitable wasteland not meant for humans to live much less watch. When you watch the 1984 “classic”, the thing that always stood out to me was that nothing about the backdrop, the places the humans lived, looked human at all. They all looked to be living in the ruins of ancient civilizations left behind by extinct species with the design sense of mold or some other kind of naturally occurring geometry. No one walks, talks, or acts like normal people, disconnecting audiences from the human aspect, which arguably is the soul of this story. The reason I mention all of this is because Villeneuve’s Dune is the complete opposite of all of this. His characters act and speak like real people in a world that feels more familiar than foreign. Their religions and histories are more inline as they were probably meant to be, closer to something in our own lives. The technology is art coming to life, popping right off your D&D basement walls. It marries the realistic future of his Blade Runner 2049 with the very contemporary Arrival, as if both films were leading to this. If anything, Dune made me appreciate his catalog all the more. It made me believe that maybe, just maybe… even Akira might be possible in his hands? But let’s not talk about my pipe dreams. (Maybe he could fix Ghost in the Shell…)

This film is made all the more real by its cadre of excellent actors, first and foremost Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atradies and his onscreen mother Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica Atradies. Oscar Isaac has range, and while I never imagined him as much of a father figure, as a King he fits right in as Duke Leto Atradies. They have a chemistry of regal and royal, creating a distance that one might imagine royal families have, close but not too close. Stellan Skarsgård terrifies the audience as Baron Harkonnen with his sheer presence, and his nephew played by Dave Bautista really lean into the clever madness their characters are meant to portray. I could gush about every actor in this film, they all did a tremendous job bringing the unspoken words to life in action, it made me happy to finally see the narrative take center stage while the world built takes its proper place as the backdrop. The camera work almost pays homage to classic 70’s and 80’s B-movie sci-fi, daring to hold the camera in place longer, stare into the characters more deeply, and step away from the action a bit more daringly. The way they play with light might hurt your eyes in a dark theater at first, jumping between the brightest and darkest moments a bit too quickly, but once your eyes are adjusted, it makes for some powerful moments. They walk long hallways, filled with golden art that impresses that these royals live in a museum, well designed, cold, and hard; like a real museum the only living things are the people and the works they are viewing.

I am actually having a hard time digesting the film, considering how much I disliked the source material and every version of it since its inception. The book, the film, and my budding teenage nerdom all culminated in me wanting to belong while rejecting the very thing people around me loved. I found my way eventually, and in a way, this story ended up helping me find my way. It helped me learn to push back, find where I stand, and still find a way to belong. And now, finally, I feel like I can see what all those other nerds were seeing as they read the words. I can finally parse the magic of the Spice. All told, you should see this film if you are in any way a fan of the director, the book, or science fiction. It really is an incredible spectacle.

[dragonherder2030]

Another tidbit time! I'm running out of these ^^'

I made Void the tallest now, so Windy will take the 2nd place. It felt right to do so, as Void was made to be a stand-up to someone else and not meant to be anything more than a combat machine (of course it changed, that much is obvious).

Solace (Soly, of which I might redraw soon as an organic version. Maybe... still a bit iffy on it) comes up to Void's midsection (like, just above the end of your ribs. I actually forgotten the original heights but I knew I also wanted him to be taller, not tallest but just taller. He felt too short, imo) now.

If you take off his fedora (or he does and you caught a glimpse. He usually won't won't this in any sort of public area as it gives him away as "vulnerable" and "weak". An easy target), you'll find that underneath is exposed endoskeleton. The horn on his left side (which is where the fedora is placed) is also gone, so is his left hand plating up to his elbow.

All of Solace's group are injured in this way, Artie has not seen them in nearly a decade after their full repair by her, always have been traveling city to town to city, doing performances whenever they settle for a week or so. A lot of aggressors tried to destroy them but ultimately failed as, when in a group, they are incredibly difficult to take down. The key to destory them is to pick them off one by one, going by strongest (Solace) to weakest (Ruins).

Being both machines, although their backstories and beliefs are different, they share almost the same view on things, all based on experience that the rest of their groups never had (both the rest of the roster and Soly's group have all set personalities. While they can learn new things, it is fairly difficult to have them change their views and ways), they always just... clicked with each other in a way that they couldn't know.

Both machines are adults in their ages, 30 to 300 may be a large margin but both of them haven't had any sort of childhood or teenagehood and are generally considered adults by most communities.

Void was never supposed to feel love and Solace never sought it, having understood that its different for everyone but never experienced it himself. They never could.

However, the way these two act makes it seem like they are more than friends. In recent events, Void has focused his words, his lyrics, of whatever he is singing, no matter good or bad, to Solace, who may just join or be a bystander with the rest who are watching. The moves Void makes is always directed at him whenever he is in the room, if he is not, the dances are seemingly all over the place, they bounce off the walls and never are directed at anyone but himself. These differences are very subtle and one cannot tell at first glance, or multiple watches.

He never did this to anyone before, it's like something is there between him and Solace, Artie has noted at one point, just as observant as she always was. It seemed to be a subconscious thing, too.

They aren't partners and Artie doesn't know if they ever will be but she knows something is there, either love or just wanted friendship or anything in between.

She could never be sure.

...

Yeah... the pair seemed nice to me 👉👈 it felt that it clicked really well... 👀 your opinions?

ALRIGHT WOOOOO

So my opinions on the ship, I really really love the idea of robot love. I get a cool visual in my head when I think about the dynamic between Void and Solace, like Void needs someone to anchor him down, that sounds bad but in a good way. Keep him more streamlined I guess. Like in his dancing styles, if he has someone to direct the moves to then it seems more concise.

On the Solace side, he would get a place emotionally with Void, and a more stable lifestyle with his band. Void is connected to Artie who could regularly fix his band every time he wanted to visit his bf so that they don’t stay in disrepair all the time.

Also I think that Void should wear a sun hat so that both him and Solace would have hats. Why a sunhat? No idea I think it would fit him.

Tall goof + short man = good visual dynamics. I think they fit together really well u make great points, it is resourceful for both parties and just fun. It would also be cool, since they are robots not originally designed to find partners, to play with the idea of platonic romance. But of course that is up to u.

[gildedmuse]

I'm a little late on getting this second part up, but it's not like tv shows have schedules or time frames or anything so it's fine.

Sora: Warrior Of The Sea

(A RedHawk Production)

BTS Blue Ray Extra: Costumes, Hair & Make Up (Part Two: Sora & Allies)

Boa's, Zoro's and X. Drake's (cast as Brími) as well as Ace's non raid suit are all pretty easy deals, since they're all upper ranking marine uniforms. Fortunately, officers are given a little more freedom with their uniforms, allowing Bon Clay to added some of the characters' personalities to their appearences.

So of course Boa Hancock brings in a team of her own fashion consultant to design Vice Admiral Reijin Umiko uniform form scratch. She couldn't bare to spend a whole who knows how many seasons in something forgettable and drab. And since Production Policy is "just try not to piss off Hancock" she ends up with the uniform she wants. Which is mostly just a marine cape, no sleeves, and a variety of designer outfits.

X. Drake's character, Himiya Brími , is a retire Rear Admiral, though he still stays in touch with his naval contacts, and acts almost as an outside consultant. So the costuming department decides to go with something navy like but without the officer coat. They go with a short white jacket with red fur accents that looks like Brimi might have worn it as a uniform at one point only the marine insignias are all gone. He wears black, leather like pants and gloves that go up to his nearly his wrist despite most of that being under the coat to cover the burn marks up and down his arm. The jacket is typically left unbuttoned, showing off the tattoo of his former division - the Fire Lizards.

Portgas D. Ace looks handsome as hell in full navy dress, identical to what Captain Akitsuyo Sora. is seen wearing in the comics, and also hates everything about it. Why are the pants so tight? He runs hot already there's no way he can deal with three (three!) Shirts. He wants to throw it in a dumpster and burn the whole thing.

Eventually they agree that he can go shirtless, but he has to wear the full proper captain's coat, not just hang it over his shoulders like most do. They get him some slightly more comfortable white trousers and let him wear black boots beneath them. Bon Clay accents the uniform in his characters colors and everyone but even Law eventually comes around and agrees it works.

Of course, Sora's more iconic look is his stolen Germa 66 Raid Suit. The costume department upgrades that design, same as they had the other Raid Suits, mostly by streamlining it, adding the more technological looking boots, adding in some detail to his gloves and.making the helmet a little less goofy (although of course it's still a must as neither Germa not the navy know Sora's identity at the start. At least it doesn't have a seagull on it like in the Saturday morning cartoon). Basically, they just being if closer in line with the other raid suit designs.

Somehow, even with the helmet, Ace looks amazing in that, too.

For Roronoa Zoro's uniform as Lieutenant Tadahiro Daichi, Bon Clay stats him off in just the basic lieutenant uniform, assuming Zoro will likewise have tons of notes. (It's a bit concerning he brought his swords with him). Surprisingly, he has no comments. He doesn't even bother looking in a mirror, instead making sure he can still move enough in sword fight, which he totally can. So he's fine with it.

Law thinks it might be an actual miracle.

Until Bon Clay speaks up. He really hadn't been expecting no comments and he refuses to accept it. You can't put him next to the main character wearing a genetic uniform. He pretty much demands Zoro strips on the spot so he can fix this travesty. Law is quick to leave before the headache starts.

 When he comes back, Zoro's has a much baggier coat that goes just bellow his waist And is inexplicably light green. He has the sleeves, which would swallow him otherwise, rolled up high. Its technically on, except it's big enough that it keeps falling off his shoulders. By all rights it should fall open and off except just under the waist there's a belt has been added for his swords, making the V shaped opening look like a very short kimono.

 To counter the lose fit of the coat his pants - dark green cause why not - seem impossibly tight. Laws surprised they got him in those without a fight. The only part of the once white uniform to remain the same color is a white sleeveless button down vest that, again, is way too tight for Law's liking and also somehow looks worse than if he were just shirtless. There's no way he can fight in that thing, he can probably barely /breath/.

Law keeps waiting for Zoro to start making comments but again, he has nothing to say. He does his little practice moves, slides the sword back around his waist and finally smiles.

"I like the belt, this is way more practical," he tells Bon Clay. Law wonders if he knows what the word practical means. Pants that cling to every curve of muscle and a vest with buttons clearly meant to be ripped off is not suddenly made practical just because there's an easy place to hang a sword. Also, he's suppose to be a high ranked marine but they can't buy him coat that fits instead of one that keeps slipping off his shoulders?

 So of course everyone but Law thinks it's perfect (even though as far as he can tell Zoro never once actually looks in mirror. It seems the ability to still do his own sword fights really was his only requirement.)

Law can't explain it, just like he can't really explain why he dislikes Zoro so immensely, but he hates that costume.

Because of course this is before they even strat shooting, meaning Law would still be pissy at Zoro by this point, and suddenly he finds himself pissed off and turned on all at once.

Law is going to look back at this in a year and hate himself when it finally clicks. He just left Zoro, shirt already falling off, with Ace - who the whole crew agrees looks incredibly sexy in the uniform and that was before he lost the shirt - and not only is Ace not irrationally upset at Zoro, he's all too happy to help out the newbie actor even if it's just something like reassuring him how he looks amazing in costume and hey if Zoro has any questions or something he can always come to Ace. His door is always open to Zoro.

@devilfruitsaladfordinner

Law hates Ace in part because Ace is just so open about flirting and he does it so easily and he's so sexy when he does it and fuck, nope, not going there. Not going to that weird place where the thought of Ace and Zoro together makes him want to scream but it also conjures images of them together infront of him on a bed at his mercy and THAT IS NOT WHERE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO GO WITH THIS

BEPO I NEED A DISTRACTION

.....

Yeah basically.

Peng got his WHAT stuck WHERE?

@gildedmuse

He's angry and he's jealous but he's also about three seconds away from pushing Zoro up against Ace because Law can't help but find the idea of Zoro begging for two men so incredibly sexy it literally breaks his brain. Oh, he's still jealous as fuck, but that doesn't stop him wanting to rip that damn uniform right of the stuntman and see how far him and Portgas-ya could push him until he breaks.

@devilfruitsaladfordinner

Ace is confused but not upset

[happi-tree]

On The Style and Effectiveness of 1-A Hero Costumes - Part 2/5

Part 2 of this post!

NAVIGATION

Part 1 2 3 4 5

INGENIUM / IIDA TENYA

It’s armor time!!! Behold a man. 

What I don’t like:

The costume seems too bulky for a Quirk and fighting style that optimize speed. And while it’s true that cars are pretty bulky but still go fast, it’s equally true that certain types of cars are designed to go faster. The current design reminds me most of a semi or a big SUV, but if the costume was more streamlined along the lines of racecars or sports cars, it would help take off the extra weight that the bulk provides, leaving Iida lighter and more streamlined - therefore, faster. 

Some examples of slimmer armor include Go Go Tomago’s from Big Hero 6 and Jim Lake Jr.’s from Trollhunters. And while I get that his body type inherently lends itself to being tank-like, lightening up on the bulk would probably be great for him.

The exhaust pipes out of his back confuse me. They bring some car energy, which is entirely welcome, but they likely hinder balance and motion, which is bad. They leave him looking a little unbalanced, and since so much of his strength and his fighting ability focuses on his lower body, having excess superficial material protruding out of the sides like that doesn’t seem to lend him any favors. And even while it looks cool, it just seems like it would be uncomfortable? Especially since a lot of runners - Iida included - like having full range of their arms to help propel them forward. The pipes might get in the way of that.

Here’s what I like:

The overall aesthetic. I love how this look both makes sense with Iida’s Quirk and personality and plays with elements of his older brother’s costume. It simultaneously puts across some knightly vibes - which is genius, considering how chivalrous and rule-following Iida typically is - and also calls to mind Transformers and cars with the emphasis on the engines and some of the more mecha elements.

The support! Armor is such an easy way to protect yourself while also getting some serious style points. His most essential areas are covered - neck, chest, arms, and legs - which is especially important considering that Iida’s legs are integral to his Quirk and his fighting style. The helmet is also a really good choice, considering this boy is essentially a human car. He looks a bit intimidating wearing it, which is good for fighting Villains, I suppose. Class dad is protected.

And a misc. note:

You know how after Iida’s special Recipro Burst move, he has to wait awhile while his engines cool back down? I think it would be really neat if he implemented some cooling technology into his Hero suit (similarly to Todoroki’s temperature-regulating gear). Theoretically, if he could find something that worked a bit like coolant for his engines, he would have a much quicker reaction time - and speed is the main facet of his Quirk, so it would probably help a lot!

Overall: Very good at providing protection while having a bomb-ass aesthetic. Not quite so good at being built for speed.

I CANNOT STOP TWINKLING / AOYAMA YUUGA 

On the other side of the armored spectrum… we have this kid!

What I don’t like:

*Edna Mode voice* NO CAPE! Why do I not like the cape? Capes can snag on stuff very easily and it would be an easy thing for Villains to target and use to unbalance Aoyama. Longer capes are especially susceptible to getting trapped under rubble, torn up, or covered in gunk from the environment (which is not the Look he seems to like). I feel like a shorter cape would get a similar message across while minimizing the potential dangers that a long cape poses. Of course, Aoyama can be trained via experience to utilize his costume effectively with the full-length cape, but when his life and the lives of others are on the line, I’d rather not take that chance.

The shades. I get that they’re iconic, but they’re taking rose colored glasses a bit too seriously. 110% will fall off his face and also messes with the princely Vibe the rest of his costume provides. I do like their Elton John energy, though.

Not a bad thing, but I just want to know how his belt works.

Here’s what I like:

The overall aesthetic. I love how the costume’s obvious “princely knight” vibe reflects so much of Aoyama’s character. 

The support here is also really good! Working the belt into the theme of his costume so seamlessly is very innovative and I love that for him. Getting the knee pads and shoulder pauldrons to match his central laser both adds to the uniqueness of the outfit and also pushes that royalty theme since they look very similar to inset gems. 

The color scheme. Purple, silver, gold, and black look very classy and regal together, and I appreciate how the royal purple ties back into the concept of European royalty, which is very in-character for this boy. His pantaloon-looking things??? Neato.

Overall: Eh, okay. Ditch the glasses and shorten the cape. Superb, you funky lil knight light.

CREATI / YAOYOROZU MOMO

Here we are! I’m finally taking a crack at one of the most highly debated hero costumes in the entire show, and like a good portion of people, I’m gonna be extremely salty about it. Yaomomo doesn’t deserve this - none of the girls deserve this. These are my thoughts:

What I don’t like:

The absolute lack of support. For any aspect of her. Nothing about this costume is protective (other than maybe the partial high collar). Her most vulnerable areas are exposed, and while it makes sense for easy Quirk usage, it does not make sense for a girl who’s fighting homicidal maniacs on the front lines. The most glaring area in need of support is obviously her chest, as nothing substantial is holding her bust in place. However, so much could be done to work with the benefits of Creation and against its weaknesses that is not being done in this costume. I’ve seen quite a few redesigns that include a sports bra with a front zip closure, which is worlds better. With the show being set in the future, having a slightly mechanized costume with the ability to retract certain pieces at the press of a button would be useful and likely doable considering Yuuei’s own Support department. Gloves would probably be a good idea to give Yaoyorozu a better grip on harder-to-handle Created objects, such as heavy metal machinery. 

The over-sexualization is, obviously, disgusting. Nothing about this costume says “Hero.” What it does say, in-universe, is that someone had the absolute gall to approve and send this outfit to a 15-year-old girl about to be thrown headfirst into training for an extremely dangerous profession. It says that giving a person in their freshman year of high school an overly sexualized outfit meant for combat training is okay (it isn’t, for reasons I can’t even begin to explain). This more closely resembles an outfit for a lingerie or swimsuit model than it does for any type of superhero, which alone should be enough to warrant some serious changes - especially, as I have stated, since the girl is only 15!

The overall aesthetic. There is no aesthetic reading for this costume other than “sexy”, which, as I explained above, is very problematic. Sure, the exposed skin makes sense for her Quirk, since she needs access to skin in order to produce items with Creation, but nothing about this outfit denotes anything about her personality. Yaoyorozu Momo is a gentle girl who has been shown to have self-esteem issues from early on in the show, and just knowing that makes me wonder if she feels uncomfortable wearing this. If she’s totally comfortable in this look, good for her! But comfort in our clothing factors so much into our mental states, which translates directly to our physical performance - it’s the same reason why having clothes that fit you and your style well make you feel more confident and more content. And especially if Yaoyorozu wasn’t quite expecting the amount of skin revealed when her costume was given to her, it could likely have added on to her self-esteem issues as seen early in the school year.

The skintight fit of what amounts to a glorified bathing suit is not conducive or acceptable whatsoever. With such a powerful Quirk, Yaoyorozu needs all the protective material she can get - which, as I said in Uraraka’s analysis, is quite simply not possible to fit under that bodycon fabric. Some padding at the very least would work wonders, and bulletproof material would serve her even better. 

Once again, heels are not good for any kind of running or fighting! At least it’s a block heel, which is marginally more stable than, say, a stiletto, but still.

The literal bookshelf on her ass. It makes no sense to put it there - it’s an inconvenient place (what if she needs to sit down?) and it looks incredibly awkward to move around with. Besides, there’s absolutely nothing stopping that book from falling at the slightest jostle. At least give her a proper holster or implement it into a toolbelt like some of the boys have. 

What’s with the belt? Can it hold emergency supplies? Or is it just there to make it seem like she’s wearing more than a deep v one-piece? I’m at a loss here.

Here’s what I like:

The color scheme. Deep red, white, and pale yellow look good on her! The color ratios are also pretty good in my opinion. Unfortunately, this is the only good thing I can say about her getup.

And to round us out, some misc. notes:

I feel like the book could be done away with entirely and replaced with something digital. This universe is set multiple centuries into the future, and I think something like a holographic data set would look slick, enable for faster search time for whatever info Yaoyorozu would need, and eliminate the bulk problem completely. At the very least, there could be a smartwatch-type gauntlet to pull up info with a larger screen to enable easy reading. Really, the lack of support for Yaoyorozu’s look is devastating because she could go so many directions in creating an outfit that works with her Quirk’s strengths and against its weaknesses.

Overall: Awful, a disgrace, and a disservice to one of the coolest, kindest characters in the class. I would kill for her to get the outfit she deserves.

INVISIBLE GIRL / HAGAKURE TOORU

Wow, look! Two travesties in a row! One more and I get a bingo!

Hagakure, I love you so much, and I am so, so sorry that the yahoos over at the Support company thought that this was a good idea.

What I don’t like:

Uh. The fact that there isn’t a costume. There is literally no in-universe rationalization for this. Surely, they have the technology. Just look at Lemillion! Togata Mirio’s Quirk is literally phasing through materials (including his own clothing) and they made him his own non-phaseable costume by weaving his own DNA into the fabric! Even if they don’t have the technology (they do), I know that Hatsume and probably the rest of the Support students would immediately jump on the chance of creating a fabric with the ability to switch between visible and invisible modes. 

Once again, the sexualization of minor Hero students continues to disturb me. Who in their right mind thinks it’s okay to send a naked teenager out into a live battlefield just because she’s less likely to be noticed that way? This line of thought surely doesn’t account for stray bullets or falling debris, nor does it account for this poor girl’s peace of mind. She should be focused on getting the job done and saving people, not worrying about how it’s too cold for her to work properly or how there’s nothing between her body and a loaded gun except for the air between them.

The gloves and shoes seem like they’re kinda. Missing the point of contributing to a stealth Hero costume? Yes, they’re good so that Hagakure can be easily recognized among her allies, but does she just have to stow them wherever when she needs to go fully invisible and hope she can find them once the mission’s over? Plus, Hagakure will always, at the very bare minimum, need something to protect the soles of her feet. Walking barefoot just for everyday civilian stuff would cause a lot of problems, but Heroes likely have a lot of broken glass, broken nails, debris, and other nasty things on the streets where they fight. Tetanus is not fun to have. 

Here’s what I like:

The gloves are a nice color, I guess?

Some misc. notes:

I gotta say, I’ve seen SO many good takes on outfit redesigns for Hagakure (same with Yaoyorozu) and the fandom collectively has some wonderful ideas on how to go about creating a costume for her. Personally, I think it would be cool if she had a full-body suit that could change between visible and invisible modes - that way, she would be easy to identify in head counts and it would likely be easier to see places where she could be injured after a fight. At the very, very least they could pull a Lemillion and have her outfit infused with something from her own DNA so it can disappear as she does while leaving her at least covered.

Overall: So, so bad. Please give this girl a suit. I’m tired. 

TLDR Part 2:

Great Costumes: 

Good: Iida

Okay: Aoyama

Questionable: 

Bad: 

The Absolute Worst: Yaoyorozu, Hagakure

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 17

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 17 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 16 / Part 18

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, sentiments of sadness

Historical Inaccuracies:

SO. This is more of a disclaimer than an inaccuracy. But it’s very important...

I have written Mary’s character on basis of Lucy Boynton’s portrayal of her in Bohemian Rhapsody. I make no assumptions concerning the relationship between Freddie and Mary, and nor do I condone the things Mary has done in the wake of Freddie’s passing. 

Please remember that this is but a fictionalisation. But anyway. I’m not here to talk about that; I’m here to write fanfic. Let’s go! 

Word Count: 2.6k (can i get three cheers for the shortest chapter ever)

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You found her soon enough. She hadn’t even made it fully up the stairs.

A pitiful sight, she was, sitting with her knees pulled up as she wept quietly into the velvet of her trousers.

“Mary,” you began gently, and she lifted her head.

Her eyes were puffy, and tears had drawn angry red lines down her round cheeks. Her hair, which had previously been up, fell about her face in blonde wisps as her lower lip trembled and her eyes filled anew with tears.

You made your way over to the corner where she sat and she watched you raptly, like a frightened animal. You knelt beside her.

“Hey, what was that all about?”

Mary only shook her head, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stem her tears.

You offered her a hand up, and after a few moments of contemplation, she took it and stood.

She stared at you a moment before rivulets came running down her face again.

“Come on,” you said. “Let’s get some air.”

You led her up the final stairs and pulled open the door at the landing, guiding her outside onto the rooftop terrace.

The night air was cool, and from the heated rush of emotions that still seemed to cloud your mind to the giddiness that still occupied your stomach, the breeze on the roof was one you welcomed.

Mary seemed to relish the sudden cold as well, going as far as to lean out over the railing and close her eyes in the onslaught of the wind.

Thinking that you should probably not allow her to do any leaning given the mental state she was presently in, you came to stand by her side.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Anger flashed across her face, and she wiped her eyes with a frustrated air, only more infuriated by the fact that she was crying.

You were about to assure her that she needn’t say anything at all when she blurted,

“I found Freddie with another man.”

“Oh,” you said. You pressed your lips together, trying to gauge how it was you were to handle this.

“I just can’t believe that he’d lie to me.”

You were reminded of Deacy’s comment about Freddie being ‘nearly pathological’ with respect to lying, but that was hardly helpful right now, and you could only imagine the crushing betrayal Mary must have felt.

“I can believe that he would lie,” she elaborated, fingers curling around the railing, “but not to me. I just— oh, I suppose I thought I was different.” She gave a shudder. “I’d had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, and I tried to talk to him, tried to tell him that he could tell me anything, and that even if I was mad about whatever it was when he told me, I wouldn’t stay that way.”

Mary turned to you, and the wind tossed her hair wildly, and with the way her eyes still ran with saltwater, she seemed a maiden from some sort of Greek tragedy.

“I love him,” she went on. “But I’ve always felt that I loved him more than he loved me. Now I understand why.”

She slumped to the ground again, her expression dark. “I’m not even angry that he didn’t come out to me. I understand that, because how the hell do you begin to tell your fiance that you want to break of the wedding because you’re gay?

“Freddie’s got this kindness, and sometimes, it’s like he’d lie to a court if it meant that he spared the feelings of those he loves. So I guess, in a way, he does love me. I only wish he’d have tried to break it off with me, instead of waiting until I walked in on him.”

She sighed, and you sat down across from her, folding your legs beneath you.

“So, what now?” you asked, because it seemed that Mary had thought a lot about this already.

But she dropped her head to her hands. “That’s the one thing I can’t work out. Where do I go from here?”

“Have you talked to Freddie, properly?”

She shook her head. “It’s going to take me a long time to forgive him. I just hope he knows why I’m angry, and that it’s not because he’s gay.”

There. That was it. That was where she had to go. “Maybe you should tell him that.”

Mary looked at you, her face wrought in scars of mascara and eyeliner. She lifted her chin and nodded. “You’re right.” She chewed her lip a moment. “But not tonight. I don’t think I can do that.”

You nodded in understanding, because with the way sobs had wracked her body, there would be no energy left for her to have a conversation with Freddie without it dissolving into a bitter argument, even with good intentions at heart.

“Y/N, would it be okay if I stayed in your room for the night?”

“So long as you promise me you’ll talk to Freddie tomorrow,” you said. “Don’t leave him wondering.”

“Yeah.”

You stood. “Let’s just go, then. It’s past midnight anyway.”

Later, when Mary was sound asleep on one of the beds, bundled in the various extra blankets you’d scavenged from cupboards, you lay with your eyes wide open. You’d been kept awake by the sounds of the dwindling party upstairs, which had carried on for long after the scene had been abandoned by its host.

You wondered where Freddie had got to.

And where Brian had.

You’d considered going to find him many times, and had even gone so far as to stick your feet out of bed and set them on the cold hardwood floor, but in the end, you’d made up your mind to do what you always did: nothing.

He’d left you standing in the dance hall, without so much as recognition in his eyes for evidence of having kissed you. And now he was going to tell you that he’d meant nothing of it, a rush of emotions in an exhilarated situation, and you couldn’t bear to hear that.

You’d rather be left wondering than have such a finality imposed upon your mind.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

It had been days, now. They’d been tiptoeing around each other for days.

It was ridiculous to the point where I began to feel the need to take matters into my own hands.

The situation was now ultimately worse than it had been before, because very obviously, something had changed. And I’d wager that something had happened on the first night of tour. They were different now, almost shyer, more fragile in their vulnerability to each other’s charms.

He had pined for her since the late sixties, she had been oblivious since day one, and I doubted that, despite their respectively vast vocabularies, either of them knew the meaning of the verb ‘to converse’. It was all longing looks and unuttered promises, a brush of a hand and staring pensively when the other was unawares.

I was almost offended that they couldn’t pull themselves together, when they were fortunate enough to have each other.

Veronica and Robert would get farther and farther from me as each day of tour escorted us more remotely from London. It hadn’t been an option to bring my wife and our tiny child with us on tour, so I could do nothing now but miss them.

But our two resident idiots, Y/N and Brian, did have each other. And they took it completely for granted.

The open road was quiet and dark, and seemed half-asleep, the trees that blurred past the window swaying to some secret song. A flock of birds streamlined the puffy clouds overhead as the moon greeted the sun in its eternal celestial shift, light yielding light to comfort the earthly beings who feared the darkness. Though I did not fear the dark as such, it was easy to imagine lurking figures between the lone houses by the roads, creeping souls amongst the woods by the road; there was something consuming about this early-morning quiet.

On a stop between Bristol and Cardiff, I left the loos to find Freddie smoking by a payphone, notably absent from the rest of our entourage.

The morning air was chilly, and I wound the scarf around my neck in its second loop, buttoning up my jacket with a shiver. No one was out here other than out of necessity, so I made my way over to Freddie and leaned against the wall beside him.

I turned to face him. “How are you?”

Freddie pursed his lips, tapping ash from his cigarette. “Not at my most fabulous, dear.”

I nodded understandingly, burying my face further into the scarf. “It’s okay, you know. You can’t always be.”

“But that’s why I became Freddie Mercury,” he said quietly, his words nearly carried away by the wind. “I became a legend so I wouldn’t feel like this.”

“Freddie,” I began, “I’m pretty sure being legendary means you have a lot more to feel than you would otherwise.”

He smiled a thin-lipped smile, tossing his spent cigarette into the ashtray mounted atop the rubbish bin. “You are of course right, darling, but right now I’d give anything to feel nothing at all.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Freddie sighed. “I don’t know what I want.”

It was despair in his voice; I recognised it. And I understood it. Because where do you start if you don’t know what you’re working toward?

I placed a hand on his shoulder and he turned his sad brown eyes on me.

“You’re a legend, Freddie,” I reminded him. “You’ve got forever to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded.

“And you can talk to me if you need to.”

“Thank you, Deacy,” he patted my hand. “I think I’ll keep a bit to myself for a while, though, at least until we reach the city.”

“Okay.”

“Now, let’s get out of this cold. I’m freezing my tits off!”

I laughed. “Okay, Freddie.”

And though the open road was quiet and dark and I missed my wife and son, I had my friends. The second half of my family.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You ached to kiss Brian again. To wind your fingers through his hair. To hold him close, because with the worry that wove itself through his brow on behalf of Freddie, he looked so lost, so far away, as though he needed someone to bring his floating self to the ground where his thoughts could wander amongst the living, and not dwell up in the sky with that which he had lost.

Perhaps that was why he looked to the stars so often; he’d lost so much, and they were a constant.

He deserved to have something brought back to him. And if you could return to him some of the light in his eyes instead of stealing it away, then nothing in the world would make you happier.

The mornings on the bus were tense, to say the least.

Without discussion, it seemed that you and Brian had established an agreement to keep Mary and Freddie apart until they had the time and privacy in which to talk. But it was a difficult arrangement, given that the tour bus was not exactly spacious. And given that it meant you had to keep your distance from Brian.

Presently, though, you came second to the efforts of protecting Freddie and Mary from themselves, which meant that Brian did as well. So for now, all you could give to him were silent glances and small smiles.

But Brian seemed to have other ideas.

On the leg from Cardiff to Taunton, just as you were getting back on the bus, someone grabbed your hand and pulled you around the corner.

You tensed, whirling around with your other fist raised, your heart hammering.

But your defenses were instantly disarmed, because there was Brian with his mass of curls in disarray from the wind, his lips parted as though he had been about to say something.

“Are you trying to kill me?!” you cried, your heartbeat still in your throat.

“No,” Brian said, “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“You’re—”

He pulled you to him, melding himself against you, and kissed you soundly on the mouth, his arms winding around you. Your response was immediate, and you leaned so far into him that he stumbled. His laughter tickled your lips, a rush of breath over your skin as he clutched you to stop you from falling with him.

But you pushed him against the wall instead, and his hands rose to your cheeks to kiss you more deeply, devouring— senseless. Precisely as you had once wished for him to kiss you.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but it seemed the most of them were covered in how you moved with him, vulnerable and uninhibited, purely driven by the desire to hold him close, to make him understand with your proximity how much it was you cared for him. How much you would never be able to explain the gravity of your affections for him.

Brian reversed your positions and only the existence of the wall and his arms kept you on your feet; you were dizzy with the surge of excitement that withered you where he touched you.

And his touch was everywhere.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, from your jaw to your cheek, to the shell of your ear, and then in a tender trail down your neck. His fingertips fluttered at your sides, warm on your skin, but you shivered, because no one had ever touched you with such a gentleness as this, such desire, such love.

Then abruptly, he pulled back, short of breath and flushed from head to toe, with swollen lips and loose curls sticking up where your fingers had interfered with their natural fall.

The world spun as his eyes flickered between yours.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he hummed.

“You did a bit,” you replied. “We’re on the open road. It is sort of scary out here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just missed you. I miss you. I feel like we’re apart, you know?”

You nodded mutely.

He asked softly, “We’re not keeping this a secret, are we?”

You couldn’t believe that he was asking, after everything. But you supposed that was how he was, considerate to the point where he doubted himself if the circumstances favoured you.

“Brian,” you said, “I don’t think I could hide the way I look at you if I wanted to.”

A smile flickered across his face.

Then the rain began to pour.

“Come on, back inside,” you said, taking him by the hand.

“Hang on,” he pulled you back. He lingered a moment, gazing at you aimlessly, and he looked at you the way he looked at the stars.

“What?”

Brian cradled your face in his hands. Then he pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, brushed the pad of his thumb over your skin. “I just wanted to look at you.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“My evening star,” he murmured.

You shook your head, finding it very hard to believe that this man, who spoke so beautifully, was yours. “You’re a poet, Brian.”

His response would have been enough to flood the coldest land with a wealth of warmth, as absolutely as that which blossomed in your chest.

“And you’re my muse.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: two more parts and an epilogue m’dears :)

taglist: @melting-obelisks @retropetalss @hgmercury39​ @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96 @themarchoftherainbowqueen @annajolras​

Masterpost / Part 16 / Part 18