#mercie tells her horror stories and anyone who's a skeptic gets a visit from the big bad death knight

[kastillia]

I live.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Shelter (Part Three)

The adventure (?) contines... I’m pretty certain that this is part three of five but I could be wrong about that. 

Pairing: Jay White x OFC (Estella)

Word count: 3,554

Content advisory: some smut (finally?) in this one

To make any sense of this, you’ll want to read Part One and Part Two. 

I had no idea how long I drifted in and out of consciousness. When I woke, I was in agony but I was also starving. Sometimes, there would be some meagre food left for me, bread and water. Other times, I cried in the darkness by myself. Sometimes, I believed that Hannah had come to comfort me, or to warn me not to eat or drink what they gave me because they were trying to poison me. I was convinced that she told me that she and the others had a plan to escape but she returned again and seemed to know nothing about it. Other times, there were different women sent to watch over me. The youngest one grew terrified as I tried to force her to admit that I was being poisoned. The older women paid little notice, although I was certain I heard them extolling the virtues of their master for taking care of me. 

Sometimes, it seemed like there would be days without another person entering my rooms. Others, it felt like I was under constant surveillance. The one thing that seemed certain was that Jay White never came to me. In my lucid moments, I could hardly fault him for refusing to see a woman who had threatened his life, however innocent her intentions. But much of the time I longed for him and even cried for him until my watchers bid me be silent in no uncertain terms. 

I know that this must have gone on for some days, simply because I caught glimpses of light and dark at different times. I lost all ability to differentiate between what was happening and what I imagined and I could feel myself becoming physically weaker and weaker. Sometimes, I believed it was because I was being poisoned. Sometimes, I believed that I was losing my mind and refusing to eat was killing me faster than poison ever could. Every time I thought that I might have figured out what was actually happening, it seemed like a wave of sickness would drag me under again. 

So it was almost frightening when I woke up, lucid once again, as if nothing had happened. I was drenched with sweat and my chest ached with the labor of breathing but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I struggled to raise myself up on my elbows, something which took all my strength and made my head spin. 

“Oh goodness, ma’am,” came a small voice from the doorway, “you’re up?”

A young woman who looked familiar entered with a tray of food, her bright blue eyes fixed on me. Something in my gut warned me not to be too trusting but at the same time, she had such a sweet expression that I couldn’t help but respond with a weak half-smile. 

“Don’t you go struggling,” she chided, setting the tray on the table next to the bed. “You’re weak as a newborn kitten. Will you eat?”

Hearing her say that stirred some memory of the past days; the others had tried to force me or had just ignored me. This woman had always asked if I would eat. 

“I think I might…” I murmured, shocked at the effort it took me to shape the words. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“I don’t know that you asked it before now. It’s Millicent. Or Millie, if you like.”

“Which do you like?”

She giggled a little and brought a chair up so that she could sit with me. “I’m not bothered either way, ma’am.”

She delicately took a piece of bread and dipped it into the bowl of milk she’d brought. 

“You’ll never be able to take it dry,” she responded to my curious look. “And we do so want to see you eat.”

“Who is “we”?”

“All of us have been to see you.” She extended her hand so that I could take a bite of the bread. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to pull off a small piece and then I almost had to let it dissolve in my mouth. Food felt strange and threatening and once again I grew anxious that it might be poisoned. I saw the change in my expression reflected back at me by Millicent. 

“Oh now you’re not going to start in again about how we’re poisoning you, are you?”

I dropped my head and sulked a moment, feeling a fog of self-pity close in on me. No one had come for me. The man on whose mercy I had counted had me locked in here. If he were set on killing me, what earthly difference would it make to anyone else? And if it made no difference, why couldn’t I at least die with a full stomach? I gave her a little shake of my head and she proffered the milk-soaked bread once again. 

“I know it seems rough and these chambers are not fit for a lady. I make no wonder you’ve caught a chill.” She gave me a sincere, sad look. “His Lordship’s just suspicious with all that’s been going on.”

“What’s been going on?”

“All this mischief and politics with your father and brother-in-law.”

“Mischief?”

Her rosy cheeks went white. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me speaking above my station like that.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Millicent. I just meant that I don’t know what you’re speaking about.”

“Oh, well then… I don’t know that much about it myself. I just know that there’s been some noise of your father and the Earl of Louth trying to push my master into an alliance with them. There was talk of marrying him to the Earl’s sister, but his Lordship won’t go along with it. Says he doesn’t trust them from what I’ve heard.”

“I promise that this is the first I’m hearing of any of this,” I whispered, trying to recall any such stories I might have heard. 

“Will you take some broth?” she asked sweetly, lifting the bowl to my lips. 

I nodded and swallowed as much of it as I could manage, which was very little. 

“I know it’s been bad for him lately,” she continued in a soft voice. “We’re not supposed to say such things but you hear about it whether you want to or not. The more he tells them no, the harder they push. You know how the gentry can be.”

I couldn’t help a little laugh at that one. “Did you forget who you were speaking to?”

“Oh, ma’am, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright. Being part of the gentry doesn’t blind me to their ways. I know how politics can be.”

“The Earl himself tried suggesting that he make a visit here a few months back but nothing ever came of it.”

“Because your master declined?”

“I can’t say for certain but that is what seems likely.”

She seemed pleased when I took a slightly larger mouthful of broth. 

“So my arrival probably appeared suspicious to him?”

“I imagine so, ma’am. Not that you did anything wrong.”

“Millicent, I promise you that I mean no one in this place any harm. And although I know it might be difficult, I would be in your debt if you could somehow get word of that to your Master.”

“I cannot promise but I will try. I believe you have a kind heart.”

It was late at night, hours after she had left when the fire was reduced to a few embers. I was still awake, more alert than I’d felt practically since I’d arrived in this place. Was she right? Was there some political intrigue that had made Jay suspicious of me? If so, I needed to find a way to convince him I had no part in it. Or was this girl just sent to win me over with her sweet demeanour and get me to devour the poison they couldn’t force on me. 

If I had still been in my feverish state, I would not have thought much of hearing sounds at the door but this time, I was keenly aware that there was someone entering and that I might be in danger. 

“Who is it?” I croaked, my voice failing me. 

There was no answer but the dark figure moved into the room and even though the rays of moonlight offered only faint illumination, I could feel in my breast who it was. 

“I need you to know that I mean you no harm,” I assured him in a soft voice. “One of the girls told me something of the matters between you and others in my family but I swear that my only purpose in coming here was to ask you for shelter and assistance. My father is gravely ill and my mother is sick as well. I have not seen them in so long and it would break my heart to lose either of them before I could speak to them again.”

He sat down on the bed next to me, his eyes glittering in the dim light, sharp and suspicious. 

“And yet you deliberately took the most dangerous route,” he mused. “You could have had safe passage by travelling to the south-”

“It would have taken much longer! We took the shortest way!”

“It’s only the shortest way if you can get through it. These parts have been nearly impassable for two years. But oh no, you thought that a party of two noblewomen and a handful of servants could pass safely where soldiers fear to tread.”

“I am uneducated on the safety and condition of the roads,” I retorted. 

“Tell me,” he hissed, leaning a little closer, “was it you who chose the route you took?”

“No. My sister came unexpectedly and it was her people who set the route.” I shifted uncomfortably, not knowing quite what he was implying. 

“Your sister and her husband know a great deal about these parts. They’ve even made offers of money for me to help secure the marches if I were to agree to certain conditions. You’ll forgive me, lady, if I am a little skeptical that she was oblivious to the dangers.”

My pulse quickened a little. Elizabeth had never been a political or designing creature. Was it possible that she had changed in a few short years of marriage? She had everything that she could ever want. What fascination could these social machinations have had? Yes, her husband was a shrewd man known for his ability to consolidate and guard his power along with his wealth. But even he never struck me as a schemer. I had always considered myself a good judge of character and it was humiliating to think that I might have been so wrong about him. This was nothing, however, compared to the horror of doubting Elizabeth. Jay was misinformed. Whatever was happening, she was not involved. I who knew her better than anyone could understand that in a way that he could not. 

I was about to protest in my sister’s defence but as I opened my mouth to speak, Jay leaned in close to me, his face resting against mine, his lips grazing the tip of my earlobe as he spoke. 

“How very clever of Elizabeth to send you,” he sighed, “knowing how I felt about you.” He slid one hand slowly over my lap and up my side until he was cupping my face. At the same time, he dragged his lips ever so lightly over mine, the sensation making me quiver. Our mouths danced delicately over and around each other until he flicked his tongue between my lips and teeth. I gasped a little and he took the opportunity, his kiss growing more passionate, his tongue sliding against mine as mine moved instinctively in response. His grip on me tightened, pulling me flush against his chest, my heart hammering away. This was how I had imagined my own romance when my books would stir my imagination. 

“What do you mean, how you felt about me?” I breathed, reluctantly pulling away from him. 

“I was quite infatuated. I was still a child but I was so taken with you and she saw that. She confronted me about it while we were there. And even afterward, she would write to me and always mentioned you, how beautiful you were growing, how many suitors you had.”

His expression darkened and one of his hands slid around my throat, squeezing tightly enough that I felt myself starting to panic. 

“I suppose you counted on your beauty and charm being enough to distract me while you took stock of how prepared I was to fend off an attack from your father and brother-in-law,” he seethed. 

I tried to speak but he squeezed my throat tighter, so that I could only shake my head, wild-eyed. 

“I should kill you. I should kill you and send your pretty head back to your father so that he knows what it means to have made an enemy of me.” 

I tried in vain to bend his fingers and pull them away from my neck. I could feel my body growing heavy and weak, my chest aching for air. At the same time, Jay’s face seemed to stay in focus, his expression such that I truly believed he was weighing the benefits of killing me as if I were an animal. I was actually surprised when he released me and let me slump against his shoulder, noisily gulping at the air. 

In one motion he jerked at the top of the shift I was wearing, revealing my breasts. I immediately tried to cover them but he swatted my hands away, lowering his head and licking at my nipples, one after the other, alternating the rough top of his tongue with the soft underside. Without meaning to, I whimpered out loud, the sensation of his mouth making me feel weak and dizzy once again. He glanced up at me with a dark smile before sucking one nipple into his mouth. 

“You’re wrong about me and about my sister. I’m going to prove it to you,” I gasped. I had no idea how I was going to do that but at that moment I needed him to understand that putting him in any kind of danger was anathema to me. He responded my biting down sharply on my nipple, making me cry out at the sudden pain. 

Nonetheless, he did not cease his ministrations, twisting and plucking at my other breast with his fingers and running his mouth, hot and moist, up my chest to my throat. His tongue softly traced the line where he had choked me before and once again, a series of sounds, like the mewling of a newborn kitten tumbled from me. He pushed me down on the bed like I was nothing, slipping off his shirt before he leaned over me. 

I was a little overwhelmed, a chorus of feelings raging through me, and I stared dumbly at his body, how perfectly sculpted it was, like he was cut from marble, how powerful he looked as he hovered over me. He seemed amused at my reaction for a moment before he pressed my head to his chest. I felt instinctively what he wanted me to do and proceeded to kiss and lick over the broad expanse of skin, quietly delighted at the soft moans this drew from him. I nipped a little at his flesh, making his whole body twitch. 

He raised himself up a little more, taking my hand and guiding it between his legs. I could feel something swollen there, something that felt alive. I let my hand rest against it, only to have him press it closer and rub it against the bulge. He chuckled softly, moving his lips to my ear. 

“Does your husband not show you what he likes?” he murmured. 

“My husband…” I suddenly felt very embarrassed to admit it, “he does not touch me.”

Jay stilled his movements, smoothing his dark hair away from his face and fixing me with a confused look. 

“What do you mean?” he asked sharply. 

“He has never… What I said,” I stammered. 

Jay’s eyes narrowed. “You mean to tell me that you have been married this long and the marriage has never been consummated?”

“I don’t think so?”

“How can you not know?”

“I know that there are… things that are supposed to happen… I’ve never understood, exactly.” I felt my face growing unbearably hot under his scrutiny. I knew that something was supposed to happen between a man and wife to produce a child but no one had ever explained to me what it was. I knew only the vaguest of details and what I’d heard seemed confusing. I had assumed that my husband would show me what needed to be done since I’d heard that men pursued it for pleasure whereas women only wanted it to conceive a child.

Jay gave a sardonic laugh in response to this and raised himself so that he was kneeling over me. He loosened his trousers and withdrew his prick, rigid like a bone. 

“Have you seen one before?” he crooned, pumping his hand along its length. 

I shook my head. I knew what it was but I’d never imagined a scenario like this in which I would encounter one. I’d always thought it would be something I’d feel under the covers in a bed when I was ready to give a man the pleasure he desired. I shuddered a little as I realized that I did want to give this man what he desired but that I didn’t understand what it was. 

He grasped my shoulder, digging his nails in hard enough that I cried out, something he didn’t seem to hear over his own moans and grunts. Truthfully, I was terrified, which only grew more intense as he held himself close to my lips. 

“Lick it,” he growled. 

I complied, running my tongue up the full length of him, lingering a few seconds at the tip when his moans of pleasure increased. He responded by pressing the mushroom head past my lips and into my mouth, the pace of his strokes and the volume of his moans increasing as I timidly sucked and swirled my tongue over the forbidden flesh. 

After only a few seconds he raised himself up on his knees, staring at me with a frightening intensity as a hot, milky liquid spilled out of him, onto my bare breasts. I could see his body relax, whereas mine felt like I’d been struck by lightning, like I was burning from the inside. I had no idea what I wanted but I grabbed hold of his wrist hoping that he would understand. 

He gave me a crooked smile and used my dress to mop up the mess he’d made. He tucked his detumescent prick back in and stared at me a long moment before pushing my clothing out of the way, exposing my most private parts. I closed my eyes, caught between shame and arousal, the pulsing of my cunt sending strange vibrations through my body. I was jerked back to reality by a light slap to my face. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. 

I struggled to follow his instruction as one of his hands probed the sensitive flesh between my legs, easily sliding along my slit because of the wetness that had accumulated there. His fingers pushed inside me just a little, finding something, a spot I had never realized was capable of bringing me such sensations, such that his touch made me cry out. He continued to stroke at this magical point while his thumb pressed hard against the hard little bump on the outside, something I knew was there, something I knew felt good when touched but never anything like this. I could feel a fire building in me, my body thrashing against his hand until he suddenly stopped and moved away from me, sitting once again on the side of the bed. 

I had no idea what he’d done or why it had felt so good, better than anything I had ever experienced, but somehow it felt unfinished. The stimulation left me aching, wanting more although I wasn’t sure why. He watched as I tried to steady myself, thoughtfully pressing his fingers, the ones that moments before had been inside my body, to his mouth, licking them clean like they were a succulent dish. 

“We’ll have a talk tomorrow.”

With that, he gathered his discarded clothing and was gone. I assumed I was supposed to sleep afterwards but I could not. The aching between my legs was unbearable and even as that faded, I could not stop my mind from obsessing over what had happened. I knew on some level that it was filthy, disgusting, and yet somehow every time I thought about what he had done, I found myself almost convulsing with a need I didn’t understand. Everything that I was feeling seemed to emanate from that part of my body that I had always kept a stranger. That night, I found myself intimately acquainted with it, grinding it against my arm, against the bed, against anything that granted me some friction without sating my sense of need. 

[glatisants]

Albion: The Legend of Arthur (Part XI of XIII)

Part XI: A Counsel in Around

Some weighty decisions are made.

We begin where we left off, with the Picts capturing Medraut. He is thus delivered to Morgan/Anna. She tells her men to keep him tied up, as she will deal with him herself.

***

Owain and Gwenhwyvar head to the council of lords. Owain wonders where Myrddin has gone, and says he’d hoped he would be back; he admits that he’s come around to have a better opinion of Myrddin, as his predictions have been correct, and his prophesying would be useful to all of them now.

The round council begins, and those assembled include: Aergol and Arthur representing the house of Ambrosius, Owain of Rheged in his father’s place, Gwenhwyvar of the Legion City, Caradoc of Gwent, and the lords Tewdrig, Cadwallan, Meirion, Brychan the Unborn, Celynin the Younger (?), and Hywel of the Bloody Axe.

Aergol broaches the question of who shall lead them in the years to come, but Caradoc cuts in to ask about the whereabouts of Cynon and Lewdwn. Aergol starts to tell the lords about the fate of Lewdwn, but at that moment Cynon arrives, late, to the meeting. Aergol confirms that little is known about Lewdwn’s death, as they have only heard the rumors of the enchantress and the Black Army, and Tewdrig adds that the entire land seems to be under her spell. Gwenhwyvar says that means it’s even more important to find order.

Aergol tells the council that Ambrosius made it known to his inner circle that he wished to see Arthur inherit his rule, and Cynon confirms that his father had once favored Arthur. One of the other lords says that Arthur was indeed the clear choice, but wonders who would lead in battle in his place. Arthur replies that the natural choice to take over for him would be Owain, as he’s more than worthy.

Cynon speaks up, then, and suggests that the old ways of ruling are outdated; he says that Arthur is their greatest warrior, and it might be better if Arthur continued to lead them to victory in battle, while someone else took the office. The others are lukewarm on the suggestion, and Gwen pointedly says the choice would be up to Arthur.

Alone with Rhun, Cynon expresses his anger at his birthright being taken from him, with Arthur being the certain choice. Rhun tells him to rest, but Cynon is determined to go see Arthur—the council may be over, but he’s certain Arthur and his inner circle are still plotting, and he wants to be present for their decisions.

Arthur thinks things went well, but Aergol is wary—he says that the ones that appear to be most in his favor could very well be raring to stab him in the back when his guard is down, and he can’t relax until he has a sword forged from the Kingstone. Arthur mutters that he’s no good at politics and prefers to meet his enemies out on the field, but Aergol tells him that he’ll learn over time, just as his uncle did. Arthur tries to share Ambrosius’ warning about Cynon, but Aergol dismisses him, saying he’ll take care of Cynon, that he’s putting up a front and isn’t as well as he pretends to be.

Gwen comes to visit Arthur, and Aergol starts to excuse himself, but she tells him to stay, as this concerns all of them: there is still tension among the council, and forging a Kingsword won’t be enough to quell dissent, so she proposes a formal union between her and Arthur. Their combined might should be enough to discourage anyone from challenging the peace, and with her as his wife he would have direct command over the Legion City. Aergol congratulates them, and tells Gwen it’s a cunning move. They all agree to arrange the contract as soon as possible.

Cynon shows up, then, and Gwen lets him be the first to know about the marriage. Cynon is startled by the news, and starts to tell them that they need the permission of his father, when he collapses; his wound has reopened. Arthur carries Cynon back to his quarters, and assigns Cled to keep watch over him, which angers Cynon, as he thinks he’s effectively being made prisoner. He protests that “everything [he] feared is coming to pass.”

Arthur tells Owain about his forthcoming marriage to Gwen; the ceremony is to be done in the chapel forge, before the Kingstone. Surprised, Owain questions the logistics, before Arthur asks if he approves. Owain replies that he doesn’t know. Arthur asserts that it’s just politics, though he is attracted to her. Owain says the other lords might think it’s an act born of insecurity rather than strength, and tells him he should wait until he’s high king. Arthur informs him that the decision’s been made, and the Kingsword is just a symbol, while Gwenhwyvar’s army truly gives them an edge. Owain faintly offers him a congratulations. Arthur then tells Owain that he’s sending him to Gododdin to suppress the unrest at the border, and he’ll be leaving immediately. Owain asks if he doesn’t want him at the wedding; Arthur won’t give an answer, just tells him to do it.

After Arthur sees Owain off, Aergol tells him not to push Owain away, as he’s his most important comrade. Arthur replies that that’s not the same as being friends, and he’s not sure what they are anymore. Aergol reminds him that he should stay on good terms with the man controlling his army. Arthur sends Griff after Owain to accompany him to Gododdin, and Owain wonders if this means Arthur doesn’t trust him.

Arthur and Gwen are lying in bed after sleeping together. Gwen says that if he can carry on like that after they’re married she’ll be very happy, and he says he’ll be glad to accommodate her as often as she likes. They kiss, but Gwen withdraws, and tells him that they need to be able to understand each other if they are to be married.

She reminds him that their marriage is a political alliance, as close and intimate as it may be, and she does not wish to get in the way of whatever is between him and Owain. Arthur says there is nothing between them, and she asks if there ever was before. He admits that they were once together, but they were just boys at the time and there’s been nothing between them for quite some time. She pointedly asks him if he deliberately did not want Owain at the wedding, and he denies it, but asks if it’s commonly believed that he and Owain are together. Gwen says that it isn’t, she’s just very perceptive, and the young men do go out to battle for long stretches of time. She tells him not to blush on her account, for he’s hardly her first, and she informs him somewhat wryly that her heart was lost to a stable boy one summer when she was fifteen, and none have possessed it since. Arthur clarifies that he never loved Owain, not in that way, and when Gwen asks if Owain ever loved him, Arthur just replies that he never asked him. 

Arthur does say that he loved Anna of Gododdin once, and she asks if that was why he’s been so cold about her death. He says that he wished to feel nothing about her, and that’s all he can say. Gwen tells him that it’s good that they can talk to each other openly, and that they may be able to be friends as well as husband and wife.

Gwen admits that she knows what happened at Badon, and she reminds him that they’ll all have their parts to play in the time ahead, and he must go easy on Owain. She then tells him that she’s pregnant; he is surprised but pleased, and they kiss. 

The next day, the marriage goes forward as planned, with Aergol bearing witness.

On the road to Gododdin, Owain has the marriage on his mind, but Griff distracts him with talk about the land around them. He remembers it as a fertile place, before the pestilence struck. Owain doesn’t believe in the tales of the enchantress, but Griff thinks they’ve seen enough by now for the stories to at least be plausible. Owain replies that he puts his faith in what he can see, rather than the stories told to him. He remembers that Myrddin was supposed to have journeyed this way, and he wishes he knew where he had gone.

They are approached by a soldier of theirs from the fort they’re headed to, and the man tells them that the Picts have overrun the borderlands, in an unprecedented act of boldness. He tells them that they’re followers of the enchantress Morgan of Ynys, but Owain is skeptical.

***

Meanwhile, Tulloch and his men show Morgan/Anna their plunder, and she encourages her men, telling them that their fortune shall only grow, as long as they continue to fight for their freedom.

Medraut overheard her speech, and when she joins him he tells her that she’s being ambitious, before asking if they may speak. When she asks what brought him to her lands, he scoffs and says that this godless wilderness belongs to no man; she informs him that he’s correct, and reminds him that he is at her mercy. He tells her of his plans to find an army, and says that her army is only good for small-scale ambushes, not drawn-out military campaigns. Morgan/Anna shrugs off his doubts, and he asks how she’s achieved what she has. He doesn’t believe her claims to be an enchantress, and says she can’t hope to beat Arthur in open battle; she’ll need a war leader, like him. She is unimpressed, and reminisces about how in the old days she, him and Arthur were inseparable, and their fathers were terribly sure of their place in the world. The three of them have none of that certainty, though, bc all their fathers gave them was chaos. She points out that they’re both outcasts, and Medraut can’t possibly hope for any legitimate claim to the throne at this point.

Medraut tells her that all he wants now is to destroy Arthur with his own hands. She says that in order to lead her Black Army, he needs to understand it, to see it as their enemies see it. She gives him a concoction that will let him cross the veil and see glimpses of the Otherworld, and he chokes it down.

They go outside to see her army, and Medraut sees the truth of the Black Army rising all around him, and it is a terrible thing, made of dread and nightmares; he is overcome with equal parts horror and awe as Morgan/Anna tells him it’s the darkest of all magic, but he adamantly wishes to lead them nonetheless, and she gives him the command he desires. She lets out a wild laugh, one that echoes with the din of many voices, and he fearfully asks what she is. She replies that she is “the means of [his] salvation,” and that they “shall destroy Arthur and devour this land together.” He joins in her laughter, overcome with mad jubilation, before he falls to the ground in a swoon. Morgan/Anna tells Tulloch that their Black Army finally has its general. 

[imagine-loki]

The Black Bunny

TITLE: The Black Bunny

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Part Two AUTHOR: goddessofmischief ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine if Loki accidentally turned himself into a bunny through some sort of magical mishap, and, not being able to properly care for himself, he kind of awkwardly nibbles on things and writes out what happened with the shreddings.

RATING: T

NOTES: And here is part two. Hope you’ve enjoyed this story! It has made me want to get a bunny even more now, haha. 🐇 ♥︎

Part Two By the next day, Cornelius’ Instagram account (‘corneliusthebunny’) already had over a three-thousand subscribers. I was overly delighted at this. They had still not found the escaped miscreant, however, and I wondered what was taking them so long. Cornelius seemed rather depressed today, and I got concerned if he was sick, or if I hadn’t been taking care of him properly. When I asked the bunny these things, he shook his head to both of these presumed assumptions and bounced to the kitchen to start reassembling the bits of paper. He seemed hesitant to proceed, but my words of encouragement eventually led him to move around the shreddings with his paws and nose.

I….AM….L For some reason, I began to inwardly panic by the time Cornelius had formed the letter L, and this sense of apprehension did not diminish with the next letter: O. Perhaps the little bunny meant to spell out lonely? But I couldn’t see him being so with the incessant attention I gave him. I began to think of other words that began with “Lo” to try to calm me down, but my composure broke down upon the following letter: K. And I held my breath as he quickly assembled the final letter, a letter that seemed to appertain to my perpetual doom : I. He sat besides his creation and his green, sorrowful eyes looked up at me. And all I could do was scream and run to my bedroom.

I sat on my bed as my whole body shook, thinking of what I should do next. But, I failed to notice that my bedroom door had not closed completely. Unexpectedly, the bunny, whose color now seemed to resemble death, then jumped onto my bed, as I shrieked and scrambled to get off of it. As I ran out of my bedroom, I debated on leaving my apartment, as the real threat was now inside of it. Yet, I did not want a criminal left to roam freely inside my living quarters. I remained huddled against my front door, still unsure of how to proceed, as I heard the soft pattering against the hardwood floors that accompanied every hop the ‘villain turned animal in disguise’ took. I saw him round the corner and I fell to my knees in horror. Ever so slowly, it continued to inch its way towards me and I forced myself to look away from the bunny, who looked so harmless with the green ribbon tied about its neck, but was deep down a cold-blooded killer.

“Have mercy.” I whispered, once it was directly before me. I thought he would somehow attack me violently, perhaps with his sharp teeth, but instead, he desperately flung himself on to me and the only thing I could do was scramble to hold his small body close to my chest, as I still didn’t want him to fall down and injure himself. I inwardly cursed at myself again for being a lover of animals. He nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck and began to nibble my neck affectionately. Even though I should have been repulsed at this, at who was actually doing this, I couldn’t stop myself from giggling lightly.

I stood up, still with the bunny in my arms, and sat down on the couch. “And what should I do now, Cornelius… I mean, Loki.” I slightly shuddered upon saying his name, but I still could not resist the bunny that lied in my arms. He turned his attention to the television, which, at that moment, was displaying a single phone number across the screen, meant for anyone with information regarding the matter at hand. “You want me to call them? Are you certain?” He looked back at me with a sad expression and nodded slowly. I dialed the number, and a man with a deep voice picked up at once, asking for information. “Your criminal at large has unknowingly been hiding in my apartment for the last two days,” I said calmly. “ And I think you should give your mighty Avengers the task of picking him up.” I said sarcastically before quickly revealing my address and hanging up.

“Loki!” I heard a defining roar from outside my apartment just a few moments later, which was followed by my front door being torn off its hinges and casted aside in the hallway. “You will pay to fix that!” I called out, as I heard many people scramble into my home. I was still sitting on the couch, and had not turned around right away to meet earth’s mightiest heroes. The same voice, which was most definitely Thor’s, spoke again: “Where is he?” I then stood up, holding the bunny in my arms, as I walked over to greet them. They were indeed all there: as they were all suited up - except for Bruce Banner, thankfully. I recognized Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow and Hawkeye and let out a groan before responding. “He’s here.” They suddenly looked all around, checking to see if I held Loki captive and tied up somewhere, or if he was hiding around a corner. “Where?” asked Black Widow in an annoyed tone of voice. I then set down the bunny on top of my small dining room table before gesturing to him. “Here.” “Stop playing games, woman. We don’t have time for this.” said Iron Man, rolling his eyes. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted her call.” He murmured to the others. They were already turning to leave, but I called them back. “Before you go, you may like to see this.” I placed the bunny onto the kitchen floor, where I had recently picked up the assembled bits and put them back into a pile. The Avengers all crowded around the small space, letting out deep, exaggerated sighs and continuously rolling their eyes as they watched the bunny maneuver the scraps of paper to form a message. Only midway through the completion of his message did they start to become interested. However, they said nothing, but continued to watch. The bunny’s message this time read: “HELLO THOR” Loki then gazed intensely at Thor with a look that was clearly hostile - which I didn’t even know was possible for a bunny to do.

Iron Man, Black Widow and Hawkeye burst out in laughter, while the others didn’t really know how to respond to this predicament. “Oh, this is gold.” said Iron Man, in between laughs. “Anyone in the mood for rabbit stew? It sure would be delicious.” asked Hawkeye, who I glared at with hostility for saying this. I was a vegan, and this made my blood boil. “How could this have happened?” I inquired, to the more serious crowd: Thor, Bruce Banner and Captain America. “Some kind of magical mishap, I’m sure.” responded Thor over the laughter that continued to fill the room. “I hope he hasn’t harmed you in any way.” “No, of course not.” I replied happily, thinking of all of the fun moments I had shared with the bunny. “Where did you find him, Miss…” asked Captain America, who overall still seemed a bit skeptical. “It’s Emma, and I found him in Bryant Park two days ago, just a block away from where we both work. My office is in the building next to yours.” Captain America nodded upon understanding this. I continued to ask questions. “Did you say magical mishap?” Bruce replied to this. “Yes, we had left Loki on his own to try and magically concoct something that we would use on one of our upcoming missions. We had removed any impediments that usually restrict his ability to do magic. I’m guessing one of his spells backfired somehow and turned him into a bunny, who was then able to discreetly sneak of out the tower.” “Oh, I see.” I said. Black Widow had finally stopped laughing and asked me a question: “What’s with the bow around his neck?” “Oh, well, Cornelius, I mean Loki, had wanted to play dress up.” A silence then filled the room.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” said Iron Man. “No, in fact, I have pictures and made an Instagram account. Here.” I pulled up the Instagram page and handed them my phone, which they passed around. “I had originally named him Cornelius, as he hadn’t told me of his true identity until this morning. He also had informed me with the paper shreddings, you see.” I rambled on. Black Widow was especially intrigued by these pictures. “Could you send me these pictures?” “Uh, yeah. I guess so.” I responded with hesitation, as I really didn’t want to give her something that she could torment Loki with in the future. I could tell that he wasn’t everybody’s favorite, and I understood that this was probably because he always seemed to either start trouble, or get himself into troublesome predicaments. I noticed that Iron Man headed in the direction of my bedroom, and I didn’t stop him as I was being bombarded by other questions.

When he returned, I turned around and saw that he was holding something behind his back. “Hey guys, I found some more outfits.” He said as he then exhibited both the Hulk and Captain America costumes that the bunny had been reluctant to try on. Although annoyed, Loki allowed them to put him into the costumes and snap pictures of him. I could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was planning the ways in which he would get back at them for putting him through this misery. “Thank you Emma, for taking care of my brother. He must have fled Stark Tower that day out of embarrassment. It all seems to make sense now.” said Thor, who came to my side and was still quite concerned about what Loki had gotten himself into. “Don’t mention it. I can assure you he was on his best behavior.” He smiled. “Sorry about your door by the way, I’ll have someone from maintenance come up and replace it at once.” “Thank you.” I replied, before continuing. “May I visit him, Thor? When he is back to his normal self? I’d just like to chat with him.” “Of course. Stop on by sometime next week. I’’m sure he will find a way to inverse this all by then.” He said kindly. They then allowed me to remove the costume from Loki, and I nudged his ears as I spoke softly to the bunny: “Goodbye, little fella.” The Avengers each shook my hand and said their farewells. Their kindness still did not make me their number one fan, however.

❧

I ventured into Stark Tower one afternoon on the following week. Thor met me in the lobby, after I had disclosed to a receptionist who I was, and directed me into an empty elevator that was going up to the 79th floor. He told me that after they scrutinized the security cameras more closely, they had indeed found a small bunny roaming about very early that morning.

Once we got off the elevator, Thor brought me to a room in which the rest of the Avengers were sitting around a large circular table, and we briefly chatted with one another. Afterwards, I followed him further and was brought into a long hallway that led into many other rooms. I assumed that these rooms were living quarters. “Loki’s room is the first door on the right. Go right in, he’s waiting for you. I’ll be outside if you need anything.” I only nodded, as I was still rather nervous at the thought of being alone with Loki - even though I spent two full days solely in his presence. But that had been different, I assured myself. I slowly inched my hand around the doorknob and opened the door. Only after closing it behind me did I turn around, and what I found caused me to gasp. Sitting on the floor right inside was a small black bunny, with the same green bow wrapped about its neck.

I suddenly became confused. Thor had said so surely that Loki would have been able to change himself back by now. And if he hadn’t been successful, wouldn’t Thor have turned me away and have said to come back at another time? Someone out of sight whistled and the bunny hopped over to them. I walked further inside, and the room opened up in such a way that exhibited, to my right, a relaxed Loki, sitting upon a velvet armchair with a book in his lap. Piles of old, antiquated books were stacked haphazardly around him.

He turned him attention from his book and onto me. He smiled as his green eyes met mine. “Hello Em.” He said softly. I licked my lips and gulped nervously. “You’re-you’re not so little anymore…” My voice quivered faintly. He chuckled deeply before placing his book aside and standing up - which only augmented his size. “No, I am not, and I am most grateful for it.” He bent down and picked up the bunny into his arms. He slowly walked to where I was standing, and I felt even more vulnerable as he stood right before me - towering over my small body. I took in every aspect of him: his armor, his raven black hair, and his sharp visage. My fear of him quickly was eradicated, and I instead became amazed by his attractiveness: something that I had never been aware of before. “Is it yours, Loki?” I asked, turning my attention to the rabbit. “No. I got him for you, Em.” “For me?” I said with disbelief. “Yes.” He nodded, smiling smugly at my state stupefaction in which he had caused. He gently placed the bunny securely into my arms, before he came closer to me a placed a tender kiss on my forehead. I froze completely as a result of this affectionate action.

“I only wish that you’ll allow me to visit him once in a while.” He softly uttered. “You see, I’ve trained him over the past week and have grown quite attached.” He reached out and ran his hand over the small animal, which briefly would brush against mine. I sadly acknowledged the metal cuffs around his wrists, which probably were what prevented him from doing magic. “He’s quite a loving and intelligent little fella,” he continued. “Just not as intelligent as I was, however.” I giggled at this. “You are welcome to come over whenever you’d like, Loki.” I gazed down at the calm black bunny in my arms. He truly looked so similar to that bunny I had called Cornelius. As I admired him, I felt that Loki’s eyes never did quite focus upon anything but myself. We both stood silently for a few moments before he asked me another question. “What shall you name him?” I thought about it for a moment before I once again met his captivating eyes. “Mischief, perhaps.” I replied with a grin.

[segadores-y-soldados]

Overwatch: Apocalypse Now

TL;DR: Overwatch is slowly building a world of apocalypses and horror stories through references to mythology, literature, and pop culture.  Through these, it continues a cautionary tale of “humanity’s greatest flaw is its own ambitious arrogance,” the same arrogance which caused Overwatch to fall.  It has also presented a few different routes of “hope” to try and break the cycle.

More stuff to read, if you want: Soldier: 76 Fact Sheet, References, and Some Analyses Reaper Art Assets Reaper References  Reaper and Soldier: American Cultural References Ana as the source of conflict

They said to each other, “Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly.” They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar. 4 Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.” - Genesis 11:3 - 4

UNDER CONSTRUCTION: Like much of the still-growing city, the massive tower at the center of Oasis is still under construction and has no estimated completion date. Though the current structure is already one of the world's tallest skyscrapers, the final plans call for it to extend even further, easily becoming the world's tallest freestanding building. Not much is known about the tower's purpose, other than it ties into the city's massive data gathering and computational efforts. - Oasis Travel Tips

In the hype of Oasis dropping and the ever wonderful jump-pad, many people missed the very quiet and almost hidden lore about the city that was simultaneously released by Blizzard.  The “Oasis Travel Tips” revealed that the “city of science” was controlled by a group of ministries governed by “a brilliant collective of eight of the world's leading scientists.”  Among the lore dropped was the revelation that the Gardens map was intended to evoke the Hanging Gardens of Babylon -

And that “the tower” in the distance was a clear homage to The Tower of Babel.

For those of you who are not familiar with the story of The Tower of Babel, it is a tale from Genesis that explains why there are so many languages.  In the story, all of humanity shared one language, and as means of this communication, began to build a tower to reach the heavens and God Himself.  When God saw what humanity was doing, He destroyed the tower and scattered the people, giving them different languages so that they could not perform such a feat again.  The lesson here is that the arrogance of humanity led them to believe they could build something as impressive as God Himself (or so some say).

While it is difficult to detangle The Tower of Babel from its religious connotations, the emphasis here is that “one should not be so arrogant” or the “higher powers that be” will bring their wrath upon you.

Which is precisely the overarching story that Overwatch’s lore is building. I’ve been wondering for some time how to structure all these disparate pieces of lore into something that connects to the major themes of “Who watches the Watchmen?”, “History repeats itself,” and “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” but with Uprising, we finally have a lot more tangible proof that the “grand theme” of Overwatch’s lore - both the “canon” lore outside of the game, and numerous “in-game” references - are building a new version of an age-old tale of the apocalypse and “the ancient horrors” lurking just beyond human perception.  These “larger forces” are dropped through mythology and religious references, but also a number of pop culture and “horror story” references that litter the game.  I’ve tried to collect the majority of them here. But to start with, we need to cover some background info.

1. The Nameless City of Oasis

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons, even death may die."

I’m not gonna claim to be any authority on Lovecraft, but any Lovecraft or Eldritch horror fan should look at Oasis with a slight skepticism.  Already we have references to the Tower of Babel with the map, and there are numerous in-game lines that imply that something vaguely sinister is going on beneath the shiny surface of the city.

Junkrat: “This place is a bit posh for me…” Symmetra: “The Vishkar Corporation would love to have a presence here.” Zenyatta: “What a fascinating place!  Can science alone unlock the path to enlightenment?”

The most important one, however, is this set (I cannot find the direct quotes, so I’m basing this off memory but):

Sombra: “What are we doing here?” Reaper: “We’re here to see an old friend.”

Now this is extremely interesting.  One of the prevailing fan theories is that Angela “Mercy” Ziegler may have connections to Oasis - she is depicted in the Recall short as being located somewhere in the Middle East, particularly somewhere in present-day Iraq, which is where “the city of Oasis” is located.  In the Reflections comic, she is shown to be working on some sort of “active field duty” in a tent that is brightly-lit.  In the “We Are Overwatch” short, she rescues a young girl on the edge of a large city with multiple skyscrapers in the background.

I know there is already speculation that, if Mercy is in fact located in Oasis, Reaper is “out for her.”  Another version of the theory goes that Reaper is coming to see her to ask her for help with his current state of existence (note that I am not a fan of the “Mercy botched saving Reaper” theory because that has been effectively debunked by Chu).

Because if there is anyone capable of helping Reaper restore himself, it would be “the doctor of death herself,” Angela Ziegler.

We know from Dragons, Recall, Hero, and the Museum Heist that 1) ultimates such as the Dragons and Tactical Visor are canon, 2) Reaper is capable of transforming himself into smoke, 3) Winston’s in-game abilities - including his Rage ultimate - are canon.  At the moment, there is no reason to believe that Mercy’s Resurrection ultimate is not canon.  People will no doubt argue that I’m making a leap of logic here, but until confirmed otherwise, I’d say it’s likely that all Ultimates are canon.

And therefore this means that Mercy knows how to revive the dead.

More than anything, this means that if Mercy is associated with Oasis, that we should be giving a solid, hard look at what exactly this implies for lore.  I’m not saying that Oasis “having Lovecraftian connotations is 100% canon,” but rather it is important to note that the types of references a story builds for itself almost certainly influences the type of story it wants to portray.  The fact that Mercy has not one, but multiple skins that are related to “raising the dead in morally-ambiguous ways” is telling.  She has two Valkyrie skins, the Imp and Devil skins, and the Witch skin (which literally carries “a book of life” on her).

Again, I already know these skins aren’t canon.  That’s beside the point.  The point here is that all of this combined creates a very ambiguous tone about Mercy and Oasis - the undercurrents of mistrust, the sensation that “something lurks in the city,” the feeling that “humanity is playing with forces it cannot control,” the idea that “a doctor who defies death” lives and works there, the idea that the “in-game embodiment of Death Himself” is going there to “visit an old friend.”  These are all things that build an eerie sense of foreboding.

Exactly as Lovecraft would have wanted it.

Lovecraft’s Nameless City builds the groundwork “lore” for his Cthulhu mythology.  The “nameless city” is a city in the Arabian desert, older than Babylon, implied to have been “lost” to the ages as humanity began to conquer the earth.  The ancient race that built the city retreated underground, where they continued their worship of the Great Old Ones.  The human protagonist of The Nameless City wanders deeper and deeper until he is beset by the presence of the ancient race and some form of the Great Old Ones, ostensibly for “intruding on a realm he had no right to access.”

“I think I screamed frantically near the last—I was almost mad—but if I did so my cries were lost in the hell-born babel of the howling wind-wraiths. I tried to crawl against the murderous invisible torrent, but I could not even hold my own as I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the unknown world. Finally reason must have wholly snapped, for I fell to babbling over and over that unexplainable couplet of the mad Arab Alhazred, who dreamed of the nameless city:

“That is not dead which can eternal lie,

And with strange aeons even death may die.”

Only the grim brooding desert gods know what really took place—what indescribable struggles and scrambles in the dark I endured or what Abaddon guided me back to life, where I must always remember and shiver in the night-wind till oblivion—or worse—claims me. Monstrous, unnatural, colossal, was the thing—too far beyond all the ideas of man to be believed except in the silent damnable small hours when one cannot sleep.”

Here again we have a reference that “humanity is toying with forces it cannot hope to control” - time and death, an understanding of the universe much larger than “simple mortal sentience” can bear.  Above all else, The Nameless City is where the author of Lovecraft’s mythological Necronomicon first begins writing the book, which originally has an Arabic title of “Al Azif,” loosely translated by Lovecraft himself as “that nocturnal sound (made by insects) supposed to be the howling of demons.”

Demons being jinn/djinn, or “genies.”   And there is one character in Overwatch who has a Djinn skin.  

2. God Programs and Null Sector

It always struck me as odd that Zenyatta has not one, but four mythology references that are NOT Tibetan or Nepalese in the slightest.  In fact, he has two Djinn-based skins and two Egyptian skins (Ra and Sunyatta) which always seemed better suited to Ana or Pharah.  Zenyatta did not get a Tibetan skin until the Halloween special, where he got a death-based skin with a Tibetan skull cap (again - I get this is not canon, but it is telling that his Halloween reference was to skull artwork).  I do not doubt that Zenyatta��s skins - much like the other skins in the game - are simply following “a rule of cool” but like Mercy’s skins, they should give us some pause.  In mythology, the djinn are trickster-type creatures that can span a range of morality (again, very similar to Mercy’s Valkyrie and Witch skins), and their whimsical natures certainly match Zenyatta’s, even if their origin is a bit far from Nepal.  

The Ra and Sunyatta skins, however, are really interesting when you consider the fact that the only “canon” God Program currently revealed is Anubis.  

For those of you that don’t know, Anubis is featured in Pharah’s comic “Mission Statement,” where it is revealed to be a supercomputer Omnic dubbed “a God Program” that is capable of mind-controlling other Omnics.  

Which, you know, is the kind of stuff that Lovecraft’s Great Old Ones are capable of doing.  

What is not stated outright in the Mission Statement comic, but is instead implied (once again, by Reaper) in Old Soldiers and in other in-game dialogue, is that Helix Securities is somehow “messing around” with “something beyond their control” by doing strange and possibly unethical experiments on Anubis, and that Anubis “lashed out” against them (causing Helix to send in Pharah’s Raptora squad to put it down).  

The only other characters to have Egyptian mythology skins are Pharah herself (shockingly called “Anubis”) and her mother Ana (“Horus”).  It is implied in Old Soldiers that Ana is attempting to “find out” what happened in Mission Statement through a Talon associate Harkim (the man Reaper speaks to).  

So what does this mean?

Once again, humanity is playing with forces much larger than itself - in this case, a literal supercomputer that rivals “gods” - and the effects of this trickle down all the way to Pharah, Ana, and Reaper, who have to struggle with the aftermath of this “small scale disaster.”  Only unlike Oasis, where a lot of the “inferences” are “non-canon” or simply implied, Mission Statement is canon to the overarching lore.  While the “Egyptian god skins” are non necessarily canon, we can see that Blizzard is pulling in characters like Pharah, Ana, and Zenyatta into a shared “background mythos,” much like Mercy and Oasis.  

And this has direct implications on Uprising’s lore and background.  

In the Uprising comic, we see that Null Sector arises from pushback against anti-Omnic sentiments in London, which city officials and Mondatta were trying to rectify when Null Sector attacked.  Overwatch - more specifically, Commander Jack Morrison and his fellow leaders Ana Amari and Gabriel Reyes - are put in a position where they are forced to make a difficult choice: stand on the sidelines and watch the situation deteriorate even further, or take action and risk getting in further international trouble with their Director and the rest of the world’s governments.  As most people know, they do the latter.  

“Canon Overwatch lore” shows that a team of four - Reinhardt, Mercy, Tracer, and Torbjorn - go into King’s Row and deliver a bomb before taking down Null Sector’s main base and freeing the hostages.  But what is extremely interesting are a number of the new interactions - both canon and non-canon - that can be found in the mode.

(Note that most of these are based on memory):

1. A Torbjorn-Tracer interaction in which Tracer protests that “Not all Omnics are like this.”  Torbjorn responds along the lines of “Look around - this has happened before and this will happen again!”  He seems to be implying that the normal King’s Row map - in which a group of attackers is trying to push an EMP to the Power Plant to disable “hostile Omnic forces” - is a result of the consequences of the events of Uprising, and even that Null Sector may return in the future.  However, this also builds on the old adage of “history repeats itself” which once again is a major thematic issue of Overwatch.  

2. Null Sector troopers will say the lines of “Error: Faulty Programming” when Zenyatta’s discord orb is placed on them in All Heroes mode.   3. Orisa has a new voiceline when being revived where she says “I think I saw the Iris.”  

The last two are super fascinating because we have two new ideas being presented here.  The first is that Zenyatta’s discord orb operates by disrupting mental or computational abilities and works by “disorienting” enemies, allowing allies to target them in their “mentally weakened state.”  Even though this interaction is not canon, it once again builds on the idea of mind control/mind effect that Anubis and Lovecraft’s Great Old Ones have.  Zenyatta’s standard lines about the ability - “Bask in the shadow of doubt.” “Darkness falls.” “You are your own worst enemy.” “There is disquiet in your soul.” - are among some of the most ominous and sinister lines in the game.  With this, Zenyatta’s ties to the “background mythos” of “uncontrollable chaos” lurking at the edges of Overwatch’s fictional world get much stronger, especially now that it’s shown he can perform these same abilities on other Omnics.  

Orisa’s new voiceline is extra telling because previously it was implied that “only enlightened Omnics” could see the entity known as “The Iris,” but now a “one month old” Omnic with limited experiences in the world has implied that she has seen it upon her death and “resurrection” (once again, we should be thinking of all the shady stuff about Mercy here).  Since Bastion does not have the ability to speak any known human language (oh look, another lowkey Babel reference), Orisa is now the third Omnic character to confirm the existence of the Iris outside of Zenyatta and Mondatta.  

3. Gazing into the abyss - Sombra, The Eye Conspiracy, and the Popol Vuh

I know that other people have already put forward the idea that the Eye featured at the center of Sombra’s conspiracy web is “the Iris” - personally, I’m not a big fan of the idea but I want to examine it because the motif of “eyes” is recurring in Overwatch.  We have, at a glance (heh): 1. Ana and Pharah both having “eyes of Horus” tattoos.

2. Ana, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn are all missing eyes.

3. Soldier: 76 with his “enhanced vision” thanks to Tactical Visor.

4. Widowmaker’s “multi-view” camera headgear.

5. Hanzo’s “eyes of the dragon.”

6. Zenyatta’s Iris references.  

7. Winston and Mei both wear glasses (and reference it).

8. Sombra’s Eye conspiracy.

9. Orisa’s new voiceline about the Iris.

10. Multiple characters in masks or headgear that obscure their eyes.

11. McCree’s “Deadeye” ultimate.

12. The literal name of “Overwatch.”

I’ve probably missed some, but in any case, the associated motifs of eyes/vision/watching things is constant and ubiquitous in Overwatch (even down to the name of the game itself), which wraps about around to the very blunt and obvious “Who watches the Watchmen” theme that the series has going on.  With Uprising, we have the implied idea that “Overwatch has steadily overgrown its original parameters and started acting as ‘world police’ for justice and assistance.”  It may mean well, but ultimately, Overwatch is directly told by Director Petras, the UK government, and public protests (shown on the news blurbs) that “its oversight and protections” are no longer wanted or needed, even if its intentions are good and pure.  

It is not surprising then, that the idea of Overwatch “becoming too ambitious - even with good intentions” brought down the “wrath” of something even larger than it, something with the ability to move forces such as Talon, LumériCo, Volskaya, etc.  

Something that “watches” the “Overwatchmen.”  

Personally, I think the idea that the Eye Conspiracy being the same as The Iris is a little on-the-nose, especially since a lot of the “background mythos” is a series of obscure references that require semi-inane “connecting the dots” to find (am I self-depreciating here?  Yes), but it is a promising theory, especially with the new stuff surround Null Sector, Zenyatta, and Orisa.  So while I don’t want to talk to much about “what the Eye Conspiracy could be,” I do want to get into a little bit of “background mythos” around Sombra -

Because it too involves “deaths that cannot die.”  

Dorado itself was rather blindly (hah) designed by the Overwatch team who, in their haste to make a “bright, colorful village map,” drew references from an Italian city by the sea (gj guys, way to double-check your sources).  But the LumériCo power plant was almost certainly designed based on the Laguna Verde Nuclear Power Plant, which exists in almost the exact same location as Dorado’s maps (note that the in-game map within the LumériCo appears to be incorrect, as the Uprising map confirms that Dorado is supposed to be further south on the Gulf of Mexico).  More than anything else, the LumériCo power plants are designed to evoke the pyramids of Aztec and Mayan design.  These were massive stone builds of ritual, political, and social power that were meant to mimic the mountains that gods such as the Feathered Serpent, Tlaloc/Chaac, and Huitzilopochtli were believed to live on.  They were also meant to be displays of power and regality by various kings, queens, and rulers.  

So like the Temple of Anubis, the LumériCo power plant is a remixing of “real world mythologies” with the dev team’s “vision of the future,” a vision where humanity celebrates its diversity and the beauty of its multitude of ideas and histories with a “futuristic twist.”  

But what it also implies is that Portero - the CEO of LumériCo - is imposing himself as a psuedo-ruler in Mexico.  

And that’s not just me “reading the inferences” like with Oasis or Mercy.  This is outright what Sombra calls him in the Sombra ARG.

“Long live the King!

“The King Guillermo Portero of LumériCo invites cordially, his loyal servants, to participate in his crowning event and to celebrate his infinite greed and treason toward the people of México. We gave coordinated the publication of info that demonstrates that Portero is a viper, that have for a long time ripoff the riches of our country for his own wealth. He has corrupted our government, turned our sisters and brothers into beggars, and he won’t stop until controlling the whole country under his dominance. But we, Los Muertos, won’t tolerate the celebration of his reign of corruption. We’ll demonstrate to our new conquistadores (conquerors) who will take the reins of the future of our country! On November 1st, we’ll dethrone the King Viper and we’ll celebrate the recovery of our home.”

Surrounding Sombra and Los Muertos is a mythos of revolution and resistance, notably against a “new world oligarchy” of which Sombra perceives Portero to be “only the start.”  In Infiltration we see her take on Katya Volskaya through blackmail and “trickery,” and in her Origins video, Sombra outright declares war on “The Eye Conspiracy.”

“I’ll find out who really runs the world.  I’ll find their weaknesses and how to exploit them.  And when I do - I’ll be the one pulling the strings.”  

Whether intentional or not, Sombra’s arching story and its motifs parallels one of the major Mayan mythologies - the Hero Twins of the Popol Vuh.  The Hero Twins are symbols of life and death, war and peace, day and night.  In the most famous version of their adventures, the Hero Twins take on the lords of Xibalba (the underworld) and “beat them at their own games” using information, trickery, and cunning.  In some versions of the myth, they go on to become the Sun and the Moon, and watch over the world for the rest of eternity.  

We have seen Sombra challenge “the reign” of Portero and through her leaks, she forced him to resign under public humiliation.  We have seen her start to make a move against Volskaya Industries.  And we know, from her interactions with Reaper, that she is semi-aware that “something is going on with someone in Oasis.”  Michael Chu has stated that Sombra’s interactions with Reaper are canon, and therefore, “the shadow” and “Death himself” are relatively close (as implied by the “you don’t mind if I call you Gabe, do you?”/”stick to the mission” interaction).  

Interesting here too, again whether intentional or not, is the idea that figures who represent or are associated with Death - Sombra, Los Muertos, Reaper, Null Sector, Zenyatta, Anubis, Mercy - are “pushing back” against much larger powers, resisting against those who “watch the Overwatchmen,” and trying to reclaim power.  

4. I’m not the one with the statue.

Before there was Lovecraft, before the Nameless City, before the Cthulhu mythos, there was Shelley’s Ozymandias.

“I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Surprise, surprise - a Very Important Statue of a Very Important Character in Overwatch got referenced in Uprising.  Surprise, surprise - this same statue was depicted from The Very Beginning in the Museum Heist short, before Soldier: 76/Jack Morrison had even been revealed as a character.  

Surprise, surprise - this very same statue is implied to have been blown up in the Swiss Base explosion (you can actually see a “trunkless leg” in the Soldier: 76 Origins video).

And - surprise, surprise - Ozymandias is the “superhero alter-ego name” of Adrian Viedt in Watchmen, the “true antagonist” of the story and whose jaded, misguided morals designs an “impending disaster” in order to try and force humanity to unite against it.  

“Before Manhattan leaves to create life in another galaxy, Veidt asks him if he "did the right thing in the end". Manhattan replies that "In the end? Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends", leaving Veidt in doubt about how long the peace will last.”

In Watchmen, there are constant themes of “history repeats itself” and “humanity’s arrogance and desire for personal short-term satisfaction outweigh idealism and hope for long-term peace and prosperity.”  And of course the ever prevalent theme of “Who watches the Watchmen?”

And since Overwatch straight up rips off Watchmen, it’s not surprising at all that these major themes have worked themselves into the “background mythos” and outright lore of the game, its characters, and its world.  Of course, Overwatch attempts to portray its version of Ozymandias - Jack Morrison/Soldier: 76 - in a more...morally acceptable light, framing his decisions as “doing the right thing but ultimately sacrificing his ‘empire’ for it.”  If anything, Uprising shows Morrison as a character “setting out on the right track, but ultimately brought down by the corruption of the larger forces in the world - the conspiracy that invades his organization, that seemingly ‘brings down and blinds (hah) his friends Ana and Gabriel,’ and that literally attempts to kill him.”

Of course, when you read between the lines of the Uprising comic, we can see that “the rest of the world” has begun to perceive Overwatch a rather different way - as a policing force that has started to overstep its bounds, impose its ambitions of “peace” upon the world “through means of trickery and deceit (Blackwatch) and even outright control methods (Overwatch Strike Team),” and aims to “reach for the impossible.”

And so we come to the idea of “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

Much like the Tower of Babel, much like Mission Statement, much like the Sombra ARG, we have a recurring “background story” where “the larger powers that be” are fighting (from their perspective) to “keep humanity in its rightful place,” to restrict and lay low its ambitions and “arrogance,” to show that - no matter how well-meaning - overstepping one’s bounds will result in disaster and strife.  If Overwatch could not achieve global peace “through its Strike Teams and Blackwatch,” then how can anyone else?  

If the Ozymandias of the poem could not maintain his empire and his power, if even Time Itself brought him down and ruined “his works,” if even Time Itself could wear down on the Nameless City, if even after twenty to thirty years of hard work for peace could not solidify Overwatch’s worth in the world -

Then what will defy Time Itself?  

What will break the cycle of history repeating itself?  

Overwatch has set up a few “routes” - all of them paralleling each other - out of this “background mythos of endless horror and despair” it has built for itself.  

The first is Recalled Overwatch - the “Neutral/Chaotic Good” route.  In this Route, Winston and Tracer have begun to rebuild the fallen Overwatch from the rubble, in direct defiance of the Petras Act.  We know that, in due time, Genji attempts to join them (after Dragons), and that he invites Hanzo along.  Other agents who receive the Recall notice are Mercy, McCree, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn.  This is the route that will “do things the right way this time,” where “the darkness” is fought back with “the light,” where “discord and disquiet” are overcome by “harmony and tranquility.”  The uncertainty here is that there is nothing which prevents this route from repeating the same history as its predecessor.  

The second is the Old Soldiers - the “True Neutral/Chaotic Neutral” route.  In this route, we have Soldier: 76 and Ana setting off on their own, looking for “answers” to the “war that never ends.”  What exactly Soldier and Ana are looking for is unknown - arguably, they’re looking for a way to bring down the conspiracy that ended Overwatch, but this is never stated outright.  The problem with this route is that since there’s only two of them, they may never find what they are looking for.

The third route is the “Even Death may die” - the “True Neutral/Chaotic Evil” route.  This is the route that, in my opinion, is by far the most interesting.  It is the route that follows Sombra, Reaper, and Widowmaker.  We know for certain that Sombra is out to find and control “the larger forces that really run the world,” and arguably Reaper “may be in on this plan.”  Widowmaker’s role in this is uncertain.  This is the route that probably parallels the Hero Twins - descending into “the underworld” to fight “the Lords of Death” with tricks, cunning, and intelligence, besting them at their own games.  This is the route that would counter “whatever Great Old Ones exist” in Overwatch’s world with their own abilities - Sombra’s hacking and systems, Reaper’s inability to die, and (if she’s part of it) Widowmaker’s sniping abilities.  The issue with this route is that there is nothing preventing these individuals from being “corrupted” by the same forces that “corrupted” the Eye Conspiracy and led to the fall of Overwatch.

One thing I want to stress is that none of these routes are necessarily “morally or ethically correct.”

After all -

It depends on how you see it.  

There is a lot here for the development team to play with.  It’s taken them quite a lot of time to get their feet on the ground, but now that they have an increasingly solid foundation to work on, they can build their bizarre and beautiful world however they want, with increasingly interesting and oddball references.  With Uprising, we got stuff as wonderfully whimsical as the Selfie and Baby highlight intros, the Contra sprays, the Null Sector skins, etc, but we also got stuff as eerie and surreal as the Zenyatta discord orb lines, Orisa’s “Was that the Iris?” line, the strong implication of Null Sector using reprogramming to make Bastions and OR-14s fight against their will, and Torbjorn’s lines of “this has happened before and it will happen again.”  

What the Overwatch team is building here is a series of “range of canon” background mythologies (some that are “non-canon but merely background white noise that colors how the players view the world,” to “these are kinda sorta canon and you should be paying attention to how we use these references,” to “these are outright canon and we will be using them blatantly for whatever we want”) that develop the world in a set of unique ways.  Even for the stuff that “isn’t canon,” it still exists in the game and it still tints how players interact with the characters, their personalities, and their story arcs.  Reaper’s Mariachi skins and Zenyatta’s Djinn skins may never matter “in the overall story,” but they still show small “slices” of personality that reveal something new about them.  Similarly, Zenyatta’s lines about his discord orb may never “make it to canon,” but they still demonstrate that “something dark” lurks within them.  

And this is, arguably, both the strength and weakness of this style of storytelling: anything and everything is open and available for use.  You can design a world where a map references the Tower of Babel and more or less imply that “the doctor who defies death” lives there, but you can change this at the drop of a hat.  You can create a robot monk whose abilities rely on amplifying “the disquiet” in other characters’ souls, but then say that his statements on these abilities are not “canon.” You can craft a narrative surrounding three old comrades who have had a major falling out and then leave massive gaps in the explanation for this problem.  You gain freedom, flexibility, and openness in exchange for lore that stands on a foundation as steady as shifting sands.  

So yes, I know that like half of this essay or whatever “isn’t canon.”  But if Mercy’s Witch skin has impacted how you view her, or knowledge of Watchmen has impacted how you understand Overwatch as a whole, or hearing Orisa’s voiceline about the Iris has changed your perception of it, then does it matter “how canon” it is?

If it has impacted how you see it

Then it has already influenced how you interpret it.  

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This doesn’t even BEGIN to cover all the apocalypse references made by characters like Roadhog, Junkrat, Ana, Reaper, etc.  There are, frankly, a massive amount of voicelines that - once again - shade how the player perceives the characters and the world of Overwatch at large.  This doesn’t even cover backstories like Reaper or Mei or D.va, that latter of whom straight up has Godzilla/Evangelion references in her background.  And this doesn’t even cover stuff like the battle of Eichenwalde, or Deadlock, or “HAL-fred Glitchbot” (who is literally a reference to HAL and Alfred Hitchcock, both elements of “Hollywood horror”), or even the issues around Los Muertos.  There’s a ton here that shows that the Overwatch devs are dropping apocalyptic and/or horror references as varied as Mad Max to Apocalypse Now to 2001: A Space Odyssey to Neon Genesis Evangelion to The Headless Horseman to “the grandfather of all sci-fi” Frankenstein to “the grandfather of American macabre Romanticism” Edgar Allan Poe.  

The “background mythos” of Overwatch is filled with horror story references - everything from The Raven, to Thriller, to Psycho.  Behind the bright colors and beautiful maps are canon stories that imply something darker - a God Program being contained against its will, a yakuza clan that “needs to be reigned in,” a city “building the tallest tower in the world,” an arms-dealing gang “coming back into power,” an EMP being delivered to “hostile Omincs” - and a whole slew of “non-canon references” that display something even deeper, “even darker” that lurks beneath them all.