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#originally the trees were going to turn into enemies as well. my god. amazing
forceofcalm · 2 years
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I read (finished) 45 books this year. It's my first year back to reading, so I'm pretty pleased. I learned a lot about myself, my writing, and my tastes. I read some really amazing books and some really horrible ones. I got the tiers from A Clockwork Reader's TikTok Book Tierlist. Most of these aren't TikTok books (thank god), but her tier labels spoke to me. You can also read this on a 5 star - 0 star-ish scale in increments of 0.5-ish. The order in each tier is ordered best -> worst. Books on the top tier will stay with me forever and will get re-reads. Books at the bottom three tiers will also stay with me forever but in the worst way.
I learned that I preferred concise and consistent books with their prose, tone, and pacing. And also that I like enemies-to-lovers, and can look past iffy writing if it scratches that itch well enough. Books that can provoke me emotionally are my favorites.
Tokyo Ueno Station by Yu Miri (translated by Morgan Giles, a real star here) was my favorite book this year. I'm eagerly awaiting more of Miri's works to reach these shores. It was so somber, harrowing, tonally consistent, and a tragically beautiful story. It's also short, and every line earns its place.
The book that stood out to me as the worst was Song of Achilles. I understand, somehow, that this book is viral, but this Goodreads review sums up all my thoughts on it. I didn't go into it knowing the hype, but I came out of it learning you can trick most people into thinking your book is good if you can overload it with pretty prose.
One of my favorite observations was the influence of a good editor. In the age of TikTok books, where fanfiction with the serial numbers filed off is getting published without passing through an editor, the overall quality of the book is going down while the overall length of books is going up (both signals to a lack of an editor, if that wasn't obvious). I thought I was biased, but C.S Pacat's Dark Rise, which I pre-ordered, waved a big fat flag on how correct this could be.
The original Captive Prince trilogy, which I agree with all of the critiques on, but it filled a void in my brain specifically, so I still loved it, was published by Penguin. Penguin is a more significant publisher, and after reading Dark Rise, which a smaller publisher, Quill Trees, published, it showed. I'm not sure if it's because Pacat received a lot of praise and didn't look at her work closely enough or if the Penguin editor pulled their weight, but holy shit, this book sucked not by its concept but by every other element of writing. I, hilariously, thought Pacat was trying to extend her range with this one, so I gave her a pass on all the weaker aspects -- dull female characters, weird lack of fantasy in a fantasy book, boring settings, extreme dumbing-down for YA -- but it turns out it's her usual gay enemies-to-lovers bit, but horrendously executed.
I wrote my first GR review on Dark Rise, which baffled me in how lacking it was, and found out many people were quietly thinking the same thing. I understand that many readers, especially young ones, are over the moon if a book is simply queer (which this one is... in the last THREE PAGES out of over FOUR HUNDRED), and I just want to say... there are many queer books out there that aren't BookTok. And they are much more captivating and are written by gay men and not straight women. This doesn't guarantee a good book (I'm talking about you, More Happy Than Not), but it's worth considering moving forward.
Overall, I'm happy queer media is taking up space. That being said, and I'm realizing now that some did not make it onto this tier list somehow (and I do not know how to remake one), a large portion of my "wish I didn't read" books this year were MLM books written by women. If you're going to dominate a space, please make your content worthwhile, or step aside.
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow won Goodread's book of the year, and I just --- as a developer, as someone who actually plays video games, went to school for programming, and has had a normal conversation with a real persona at least once... What the actual fuck is that book. I picked it up because I wanted to start participating in my local B&N's book clubs and, through it, I discovered B&N has a 30-day return policy. It was physically painful to read. It nearly moved me to tears in how horrendous every inch of it was.
Giovanni's Room and Call Me By Your Name ruined my weekends in the best way, and Gary Provost has the best book on writing I've read yet.
So, yeah. I learned a lot about my tastes. Mostly to never read reviews and completely ignore BookTok. I have about 60 or so books in my house that I picked up and have yet to read, so I will be catching up on those for next year. Bye!
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neitherlightnordark · 2 years
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YOOOOO NO ONE TOLD ME TREEBO HAD A SPRITE SHEET IN THE ANNIVERSARY STREAM
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mickules · 3 years
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THE SHIRT
(otherwise known as: I Bloody Lied. THIS will be the final minicomic. . . for now) from a series of minicomics, work backwards from [part 3] for the context
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Next week: Daiya and Takaaki visit a Gay Bar for ‘research’
It’s amazing what a solitary 9 hour shift can do for the imagination.
This isn’t as meme-esque as the others, but It occurred to me that Takaaki’s discovery of “The Shirt” might be the perfect vehicle for paranoid, over-protective Detective Ishimaru to put 2 and 2 together about his son and his ‘kyoudai’. Frankly, he’d be out of his depth. He holds no bigotry, but he knows almost nothing about the lgbt+ community. Nevertheless; He’ll be damned if he lets that get in the way of being there for his boy when he needs him. Even if that means sleeping with the enemy.
Daiya meanwhile, bless him, was so busy teasing Mondo about his new best friend that he fully missed the forest for the trees. (Oh my god they were Roomates)
He can also never allow Takaaki to find out that he was the one to actually give the shirt to Taka.
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as I mentioned before - I’ll probably dip in and out answering the asks in text format; If I’ve an idea for a little comic I might save it up! I’m so pleased with all the asks, sincerely! - I don’t mean to leave anyone hanging! (I’ll also pool any angst asks together for a separate post so I can keep the feels and the memes in their respective lanes)
Before I pause tho, I wanted to answer a bunch of asks in text format! Since it got long I’ve sorta grouped them together and put them below the cut >>
(also next set of ask comics are in [this big ol’ ask dump!])
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@ladymage
1.) I may have slightly forgotten my own timeline-  Before seeing Takaaki face to face Daiya had a hard time trying to picture that demon as the dad of Mondo’s dorky kyoudai, and might have allowed himself to let his guard down before being HARSHLY REMINDED.
2.) occasionally, when Takaaki is relaxed and content a rare, almost fatherly expression can be seen on his face. However if you were to blink - you’d miss it
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‘Friends with Benefits’ is such a bloody useful phrase! Just. .the image of Daiya and Mondo entering a dark hall only for Takaaki to turn on the light, sitting reclined in a chair like a bond villain, and Taka is nowhere in sight. A long dormant survival instinct immediately sets in. The Oowada boys are the prey in the presence of an apex predator (Thanks so much!)
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Takemichi will always be the exception. Takaaki doesn’t see a volatile delinquent, 2nd to only Mondo himself in the Diamonds heirarchy; instead he sees a pre-teen who has lost their parents in the shopping centre, and must be helped.
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@yaysof11037
I guess Fluttershy has tamed the most chaotic of delinquents. Although Takaaki would not take that shite from her rabbit.
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Bruh, I found out this man was 6′5′’ and I was ruined. I cannot help but stan. I get the feeling neither Ishimaru is internet savvy enough to have seen the shift in opinion - it’d probably come as a vindication for Taka that his hard work to clear the family name is working. I think fandom wise; he’s too much fun to play with! Even his design isn’t really set in stone, you could make him Dad of the Year or a Bastard of the Highest Calibre, and you’ll get something interesting outta it.
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I must honour their origins by giving Daiya the most luscious of JoJo lips. (tho’ I must argue on the practicality of knee-high boots they’re an utter nightmare about the ankles)
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Takaaki would not survive such chicanery I’ve not thought of Daiya with anyone in particular, I see him as a bit of a slut(affectionate) playing into the image Mondo has of this super suave ladies man ultimate gang-leader. He has a lot of non-committal short flings from town to town. They go out, have a good time, maybe spend the night maybe not - no pressure. He looks far more successful than he is since he can read a room well and won’t approach a lady in such a fashion if she’s not interested/ wouldn’t appreciate a casual thing. This is whilst he’s still the leader of course. . . before the accident.
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(!! Thank you !!) Ahh Sakura, my Beloved.  I need to draw her more - her design is PEAK. Toned musculature, strong features, battle-worn but no less feminine? Please and thank-you! Her character has some wonderful depth: The expectation of acting the zen martial artist, whilst still having the uncertainties of a teenage girl - knowing she’s physically large and intimidating, and actively mitigating that with a calm, patient personality - being utterly passionate, and incredibly practical, with a playful streak! Like with most of the DR1 kids, I wish we could really seen what she could do outside the killing game.
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@future-connected
(!!!! Thanks so much! These are really so very very sweet! :-D !!!! It’s really wonderful to receive such bloody lovely thoughts! AHH!)
The mini-comics were originally just a stop-gap whilst on dayshift but they’ve kinda taken a life of their own! I’ve a few longer things I think folk would like; but I have but 2 hands and a single brain-cell, so it seems I may have to put them on the backburner, for just a little bit :)
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I’ve not read ‘Jealousy’ (I think by chinateacup?) but I’ll deffo give it a look see! Don’t hesitate to give me fic recommendations! Reading fics is one of the few things I can do during turnarounds at work. Internet connected devices are banned, but I can pre-download a bunch of fic onto my work I-pad, and use it like a kindle. 
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Thank you for such a genuine, kind message :-) I appreciate how rough having to endure depressive episodes can be, and although it isn’t much, I hope the little sparks of joy that you can find will help you through today, and tomorrow and beyond. I’m glad that my comics could be one of those sparks for you.
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melodyalanaroster · 3 years
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Miracle Romance
"Oh my god." Alana gasped with tears in her eyes. She stood in front of a large mirror and stared at herself. "I finally look like Serenity." She smiled as she left the dressing room and showed herself to Nathaniel. "You look amazing." Nathaniel smiled. Alana began to cry. “For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be like her... And now, even for a few moments... I can be her.” Tears made their way down her face as she smiled. "I guess I have to break your one rule." Nathaniel smiled. "You are not dying your hair black." Alana remarked. "I could wear a wig." Nathaniel replied. “But Nath... We talked about this...” Alana began. "I am not letting anyone else be your Endymion." Nathaniel interjected.
Throughout Alana's life, she had made it very clear that Sailor Moon had been a staple to her. It was a staple in the Roster family. By the time Alana reached the point of living in the Black Tower, at least four generations of the family enjoyed it. Including both primary sets of sisters, Margaret and little Ravenna.
She would play pretend with Viktor, Severina and Sam when they were children. She would always be Sailor Moon and Princess Serenity, Viktor was Tuxedo Mask and Prince Endymion, Severina was Sailor Venus and Sam was always Sailor Jupiter. The tree house in Alana's backyard was often the Moon Kingdom and they would frequently save the world. The adventures would always end with the power of love winning and the kids going into the house for a snack.
As the kids reached adolescence, they were forced to stop playing. But, their love of the anime was still prevalent. Alana always kept up with merchandise news and rumors about the release of a second anime. Lynne had made sure that Alana and Sam had their own copies of the manga, original anime and movies. Viktor happily talked about being Endymion to Alana’s Serenity until they were forced to break up. They wanted to continue the fantasy, but circumstance parted them. Severina was always happy to talk to everyone, and toss out ideas for a proper cosplay group, but Sam dampened the idea with the reminder that, as long as Viktor’s and Severina’s fathers remained in control of their lives, they’d never be allowed to do so.
When Lynne moved Alana and Sam to Amouria, things began to change. "She won't shut up about that Nathaniel guy." Viktor growled as he sat down next to Severina. “Viktor, you knew from the day one that you and Mels weren't allowed to be together. She has to find her Endymion." Severina sighed. “But seriously? aunt Lynne moves her and Sam to Amouria and they both immediately find guys they like?” Viktor complained. “You know Mels talks about other guys too. Right now, it could be Castiel, Lysander, Armin or Nathaniel.” Severina tried to make things sound better. “No, it's definitely Nathaniel. She barely mentions the others to me. Mostly about Armin playing games, Castiel being an ass, and Lysander losing his notebook. But she dotes on Nathaniel a lot.” Viktor retorted. Severina sighed. "Viktor... Do you remember what happened to Adonis and Beryl? Their envy got the best of them, they became evil and they died. Please keep a clear head.” She reasoned. "I am not like Adonis and Beryl." Viktor shot. “Viktor, I can't believe I have to be the voice of reason here. Both of our moms made it very clear that aunt Lynne, Mels and Sam have more freedom than we do. They're not blue bloods. They have to find their miracle elsewhere... Although, you and I will probably end up being paired together in an arranged marriage set up by our fathers.” She explained. Viktor thought for a couple of minutes and sighed. "I just thought..." 
The first time Nathaniel ever went into Alana's room, he instantly noticed her Sailor Moon dolls. "They're really hard to find these days... And Sailor Moon means a lot to me..." She said as she explained what the show meant to her. “It's a connection to my past, my closest friends, and my family.” She smiled. Nathaniel looked puzzled for a bit, then smiled. "That's really sweet.". He smiled. He noticed a picture of her, Sam, Severina and Viktor on a shelf and picked it up. “You all look like you’re having so much fun.” He mused. “Yeah... That’s the only time we’ve ever been able to dress up.” Alana sighed, wistfully. The kids were in makeshift Sailor Scout uniforms. Their hair wasn’t perfect, and Viktor’s tux didn’t fit right, but they didn’t care. The photo had been taken a few weeks before Cosima Chevalier’s death, and was one of the last happy memories they had as a group. “Its cute.” Nathaniel chuckled as he looked at her lovingly.
When her mother went into the hospital, Nate arranged it to where Alana and Lynne could sit and watch whatever they wanted in the room. Lynne suggested marathoning Sailor Moon. The days in the hospital weren't as bad when they watched the show and Lynne stayed stable, but there were days where not even fighting evil by moonlight could save the day. But, that didn't keep them from trying. It didn't take them long to get through all five seasons and three movies of the original anime. “I heard they're making a second anime that's supposed to be closer to the manga!” Alana attempted to be cheery. She was sure that she, Severina and Sam had told her about Crystal, but she really couldn’t think of anything positive to say.  “That's lovely! Do you know when it's set to come out?” Lynne asked. “I have no idea. I'm sure Toei will update us when they can!” Alana replied. “I hope its soon.” Lynne smiled. Suddenly, Lynne began coughing and her monitors started to go off. “NURSE! HELP!” Alana cried.
Even when Sam and Alana fought so badly that the Military and RDR felt it was necessary to create a treaty between the two organizations to prevent the sisters from ever being enemies again, it was actually their love of Sailor Moon that truly began to bring them together again. Severina had gotten wind of the fight and forced the girls to go to her house. “OW! RINI! YOU'RE HURTING MY EAR!” Alana whined. “Seriously! What the hell?” Sam whined. “I don't care if I'm hurting you two! This kind of fighting is unacceptable! You two are sisters and you know that this behavior will tear the family apart! I won't allow that!" Severina began to cry as she lead the sisters to her home theater. "What's all this?" Alana asked. "You've forced my hand, so I'm pulling out the big guns!" Severina cried as she grabbed a remote and turned on the screen. Sam and Alana looked at the menu then at each other. "Go figure." Sam grinned. "Of course." Alana grinned. The menu on the screen was the DVD menu to Sailor Moon R: The Promise Of The Rose. By the time the song “The Power Of Love” was playing, tears were streaming down the sisters' faces. "Mels." Sam began to choke. "Sam." Alana's voice wavered. They looked at each other, sadness and regret in their eyes. “Mels... I’m s-so s-sorry f-for what I-I said..” Sam sniffled. “I’m s-sorry t-too S-Sami...” Alana blubbered as she hugged Sam. “I love you.” Sam muttered as she held onto her sister. “I love you too.” Alana murmured. 
When Death’s Domain was getting set up, Alana dedicated a whole room to the series. “You’re seriously going to have an entire room dedicated to Sailor Moon?” Derek had asked. “Yes. Its going to have shelves for merch, posters, and a couch to relax on.” Alana mused. “Melody can have whatever she wants for her apartment. And, if it helps her destress, I most definitely approve.” The  Red Death announced. “Well, the majority of my collection will be in there. There’s going to be something Sailor Moon related in every room.” Alana smiled. “Of course there will be.” Derek facepalmed. “I’m not apologizing. I love Sailor Moon and I wanna showcase it in my home.” Alana laughed. “And I’m sure you’re going to do nothing but post about your collection for a while.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Moonies have a good presence online.” Alana mused. “I thought “Moonies” were people who followed the Unification Church?” The Red Death inquired. “Yeah, they are called that, but Sailor Moon fans are also called “Moonies”. I know, in certain circles, I have to be sure to differentiate... But, its what we’re called.” Alana explained as she shrugged her shoulders. The room ended up becoming a paradise for fans of the series. Shelves filled with various collectibles, a couch decorated with two throw pillows and a blanket, a coffee table with two sets of coasters, a large rug, framed posters, plushies, moon and star lights along the walls and showering down the window and a tv mounted on one wall. In contrast to the vast majority of Death’s Domain, the room was an explosion of bright colors.
Nathaniel stepped into the restroom for a few minutes. Alana watched the door in anticipation. When he came out, he was running his hands along the circumference of the black wig, making sure it was in its proper place. The thought of how similar he looked to Viktor shot through her mind. She did her best to suppress that thought. "You don't even like cosplay..." She muttered as she smiled. "You do so much for me, I don't mind doing this for you." He grinned. "Nathaniel! I love you!” She cried as she wrapped her arms around him. “I knew I was going to see Princess Serenity, I didn't know Prince Endymion would be with her!” someone called from behind them. They turned around and saw Sam leaning in the doorway. “Sam! I look just like her!” Alana cried. "I wonder if I can get Ken to be Nephrite." Sam commented. “I'm sure he would be if you asked him. You two would be the perfect Jupiter and Nephrite!” Alana beamed. “I didn't know this was turning into a full on cosplay group!” Ken laughed as he walked up behind Sam. "Why not?" Sam asked. "I'm not sure Viktor would appreciate being Kunzite." Alana remarked. “He'd have to get used to it. Since Nathaniel is Endymion, that demotes Viktor to Kunzite.” Sam stated. "Right because when you guys were kids, Viktor was always Endymion." Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Viktor has had years to accept his position in my sister's life. If he doesn't accept it, it will not end well for him.” Sam replied. "Do you think he will?" Nathaniel asked. "If he truly cares about her, he will." Sam nodded. “Viktor has known for years that our time ended long ago. Accepting his new position is painful for him, but he is well aware of the fact that it's something that he must do.” Alana explained.
A few minutes later, Renee walked into the room. “You both look magnificent! The girls and I have gotten a backdrop ready, would you two mind taking a few pictures?” She beamed. Alana smiled and turned to Nathaniel, a very hopeful look on her face. "Would you be okay with that?" She asked. Nathaniel nodded. "Sure." He grinned. They followed Renee into a room. "Oh my god! You two look utterly amazing!”, “You look beautiful Mels! Nathaniel, you look so handsome!”, “True Moon and Earth royalty!” the other girls cooed when they saw them. “I think we should do a cosplay group. I'm Jupiter and Rini will be Venus.” Sam commented when she walked in. "I volunteer to be Mercury!" Renee cheered. "I'll be Mars." Lyra smiled. "I'll be Pluto." Veronica beamed. "I don't mind being Saturn." Nora suggested. "I wonder if we could get Lucy and Noelle to be Uranus and Neptune." Sam pondered. "We could also see about getting Ravenna to be Chibi Moon." Alana proposed. “I think that would be fantastic. Who would be the rest of the Shitennou?” Lyra asked. "I could see if Armin could be Jadeite." Alana thought out loud. "Are we really setting up a cosplay group?" Nathaniel asked. Sam looked at Nath, as if he had said something really stupid. "Do you not realize how highly rated Sailor Moon cosplay groups are?" She asked. Nathaniel shook his head. “Sailor Moon cosplay groups are some of the most elite cosplayers in the anime world. Sailor Moon being one of the most iconic anime in history, it is instantly recognizable. The cosplayers take some of the most beautiful pictures, make some of the coolest videos, and even do events. They may not be unionized like Star Wars' 501st Legion, but they come together and coalesce with great ease whenever they recognize each other. Children who recognize them run up to them the same way that they do with superheroes, and typically, they are nice to them. It is a sisterhood of love and justice.” Sam explained. "Not to mention how fun it would be to finally be in one." Alana cooed. “We'd still need Zoisite.” Veronica stated. "I wonder if Derek could be him." Nora pondered. “Uh, guys? Can we please get to the photoshoot?” Renee asked impatiently. 
After posting for photos for what felt like an eternity, Nathaniel and Alana went into the changing room to get out of their cosplays. "You do look really beautiful in that." Nathaniel smiled as he took the black wig off. Alana blushed. "Do you really think so?" She asked nervously. “Of course. You look magnificent.” He blushed as he walked over to her and kissed her. “Thank you for doing this my love. It means the world to me.” Tears came to Alana's eyes as she spoke. “I love you my Melody.” Nathaniel cooed as he wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you so much Nathaniel!” She mused as she threw her arms around him.
A few weeks later, in the early hours of the morning, several cars arrived at an old castle in the country. “This place looks amazing! Perfect for our photo shoot!” Alana cheered as she got out of the car. “Welcome to the Astarian Royal Palace Lady Melody!” A woman with long brown hair, sunglasses and wearing a knee length blue dress beamed as she walked up to them. “Mrs. Reynard, I presume?” Alana asked as she shook the woman's hand. “Yes ma'am. We spoke over the phone.” the woman smiled. “You are fully aware as to why we need the palace today. Am I correct?” Alana inquired. “Yes. For your little photoshoot. Cosplay, I believe.” Mrs. Reynard replied. “Yes. Sailor Moon. Its important the palace be the backdrop to this shoot.” Alana stated. “The photographer will be here in a few minutes to set up. They'll need time.” Mrs. Reynard explained. “That's fine. We need time to prepare.” Alana smiled.
After a couple of hours, the members of the group began to step out of their respective preparation rooms and into a lounge. Lynne Roster as Queen Serenity, Sam as Sailor Jupiter, Severina as Sailor Venus, Renee as Sailor Mercury, Lyra as Sailor Mars, Noelle as Sailor Uranus, Lucy as Sailor Neptune, Nora as Sailor Saturn, Veronica as Sailor Pluto, Ravenna as Small Lady Serenity, Viktor as Kunzite, Ken as Nephrite, Armin as Jadeite, Derek as Zoisite, Nathaniel as Prince Endymion and Alana as Princess Serenity. When the entire group was gathered in the lounge, tears filled Alana's eyes. “It's so beautiful!” she happily cried out. “Awe! Mels!” Severina cheered as she hugged Alana. “This was a fantastic idea!” Lynne beamed. "How long do we all need to wear this?" Armin asked, slightly uncomfortable. “Just a few hours. We're gonna get a TON of shots! ” someone replied as they walked up. It was a young woman with short platinum blonde hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin. She wore black pants, a white button up top and a deep blue beret. "You all look so regal!" She cheered. “Alright everyone, let me introduce you to you Catarina. She's a friend of mine from boarding school. She's the photographer I told you guys about!” Severina introduced. “Hello everyone! It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all!” Catherine bowed. ” Severina introduced. “Hello everyone! It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all!” Catherine bowed.
The photoshoot took several hours, and took place at various locations within the castle grounds. Lynne insisted on at least one family shot with Sam and Alana, and one with Sam, Alana, Severina, Ravenna, Ken, Nathaniel, and Viktor. “This is odd. I don't quite know the anime, but those characters aren't actually family, aren't they?” Catarina asked, curiously. “Not exactly... I mean, Queen Serenity, Princess Serenity, and Small Lady Serenity are three generations of lunar royalty, and Prince Endymion is Princess Serenity's husband and Sailor Chibi Moon's father... But, this shot isn't about the show's family. It's about their family.” Lyra explained. “Oh. That's sweet!” Catarina smiled. Alana insisted each “couple” got their own picture. Viktor wasn't too happy that his couldn't be with Alana, but he didn't mind posing with Severina. Kentin was very happy to have a romantic pose with Sam. "Nephrite and Jupiter look so fantastic!" Renee cheered. “Are you kidding? I've been wanting to do this set for a long time!” Sam beamed. “My favorite part of all of this. I hate this wig, but being your knight is worth it.” Ken mused as he looked at Sam lovingly. "This is awkward." Derek rolled his eyes when he and Renee had their turn. "Oh grow up!" Renee snapped. "Derek... You know what happens when Renee gets mad!" Alana laughed. “Yeah... She gets pretty scary.” Derek sighed. Everyone laughed as Renee forced Derek into a somewhat romantic pose. "But this is so awkward!" Derek whined. "Just do it!" Renee demanded. When their part of the shoot ended, Derek sat down and shot back a bottle of water. “That was weird. "Lyra, Armin, you're up!" Alana cheered. “Now this will be interesting! ” Ken chuckled. “And in Dragon Ball references Armin! Toei may own both franchises, but now is not the time to try to mix the two!” Sam ordered. “Awe come on! That takes part of the fun out of it!” Armin whined. “Armin, if we were doing a smaller photoshoot, I wouldn't mind a few “fun” shots. So please be more serious.” Alana urgent. "Fine." Armin sighed as he and Lyra took their places in front of the camera. 
“God that was exhausting! Who'd have thought that Cosplay would be THAT much work?” Nathaniel whined he crashed onto the living room couch at Death's Domain. "If you had cosplayed as the Winter Soldier when Armin and I cosplayed as Captain America and Black Widow at that Marvel Exhibition in High School, you would have known, first hand, A LOT sooner!" Alana shot as she crashed down next to him. "You still won't let me live that down?" He asked. "Nope." She chuckled. "Why not?" He asked. “Because Armin and I worked our asses off to do our characters justice and we were hoping you would join in on the fun. Especially considering how Natasha and Bucky get together in the comics several times, so it would have been a cute “couple's cosplay” for you and me. Not to mention how cosplay is more than just “wearing a costume”. When someone properly cosplays, they also wish to play the character, even for just a day. They temporarily escape reality and enter the one the character they're cosplaying as resides in. Weeks, months, and even years are spent building props and even hand making the items and outfits. There is a lot of blood, sweat and tears that go into it!” She explained. "I know you and Armin love it, but I don't think I could do it as often as you want to." Nathaniel sighed. “I get that. Its not for everybody. But, I'm thankful you did it for me.” Alana Mused. “I love you Alana. You always do so much for me... And it has been a long time since I've been the "prince" to your "princess." He grinned. "And I'm sure rubbing it Viktor's face added to your enjoyment.” She chuckled. "That did make it a bit more fun." He smirked. "I really wish you wouldn't antagonize him." She sighed. over you and find someone else. It's the same with Castiel. You're not going to be with him, so he needs to quit pining." He shot. "Yes, but with Castiel, you two have reached a mutual agreement, and he has angered me in such a way that I spat that truth with him." She chimed in. "Which makes the situation with Viktor worse. had your family and Severina telling him for years... Yet he insists." He huffed as he rolled his eyes. "Despite that, he is still one of my best and oldest friends. We were raised together and are still like family. Can you at least try to play nice with him?" She requested. Nathaniel looked at her annoyed. "Please! Pretty please! My sweet Endymion…” Alana begged as she playfully batted her eyes. He thought for a minute and exhaled. “Fine. ” He sighed. "Thank you." She mused. “But if he oversteps the boundaries that you and I put in place, I won't be so kind.” He stated. She cuddled up next to him and kissed his cheek. "I love you Nathaniel." She cooed. He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "I love you too Alana."
Several weeks later, after the images from the photoshoot had been posted and gone viral, an idea came to Severina's mind. She turned to Alana and Sam and smiled. "What?" Sam asked. “What if we did a cosplay concert?!” Severina cheered. “Nope. I'm not singing.” Alana stated. “PLEASE! We could choose a song from Sailor Moon and singing it at a convention!” Severina urged. “Really? What song would we even do?” Sam asked. “What about “Moon Effect”? It's sung by all of the scouts!” Severina cheered. “Please no. I don't sing.” Alana begged. "But, you wouldn't be alone... And we can't do it without our Sailor Moon!" Sam sneered. “Honey... You're such a beautiful singer! Please!!!!” Severina pleaded. “No…” Alana muttered. “Damn it Mels! Just do it! We all know that you sing when you're alone! On top of that, Nath, Rini, Viktor, Mom and I have all been telling you for years that we all think your singing is beautiful! So, just do it!” Sam snapped. "Don't forget how your teammates think so too." Severina added. Alana thought for a few minutes and huffed. “Fine. I'll do it.” She sighed. “Huzzah! Let's do it at Comic Con!” Sam cheered. "No! That’s too big a venue!" Alana pleaded "That's why it should be done there! You'll get over your stage fright on one of the biggest stages on the Convention Circuit!" Sam explained. "My babies singing a Sailor Moon song in full cosplay? I'd love to help you with it!" Lynne cheered as she walked up to them. "Fantastic! We'll make it a family project!" Severina smiled. Alana looked around at the other women, thought for a few minutes, sighed, and sheepishly grinned. “I guess the Roster Family women are putting on a show!”
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Words cannot describe how badly I've wanted to write something Sailor Moon related to my story... 
Sailor Moon means a lot to me... It was my mom’s and my “thing”. No matter how much we fought, argued, and went at each other’s throats, we always bonded over the series. The first and last time I watched it in it’s entirety was with her just before her disease started taking its hold. She was the one who got me my first bits of merch, who was always happy to talk to me about it. The last Christmas gift I got her was a blanket with all the scouts on it, and she gave me plushies of Luna and Artemis. When mom died, Sailor Moon came to mean so much more to me. My aunt made me pendants with her ashes in them that look like the Legendary Silver Crystal, I got Pluto’s Garnet Rod tattooed on my back, and I became more adamant about collecting items. Each time I get a new item, I feel closer to her... There are times where I’ll even burst into tears because of Sailor Moon making me think of her....
Yes, I used the character sprite of Nathaniel that I edited from the Dark Chocolate Steward to make him look more like Endymion. I made his hair black, and edited his rings and earrings out.
Little tip... The bit about Adonis won't make sense unless you've read the Codename Sailor V manga.... If you’re not in the mood to read it, Adonis was a lowly Venusian soldier who was in love with his princess (Venus). Venus fell in love with Kunzite instead of him. He found her on Earth and cursed her to never be able to have love again, thus freeing more of her time up to focus on her duty as the leader of Princess Serenity’s Sailor Guardians.
This was originally going to be a Valentine's Day special for 2020. Then 2020 became the dumpster fire that it was and my real life needed more of my attention....
The majority of this does take place during the first year between University Life and Love Life. Before Nath and Alana go on their globe trotting adventure. The flashback section takes place at various points in time.
Credit goes to:
Naoko Takeuchi for Sailor Moon
@candysweetposts for the Princess Serenity Pack (seriously, thank you for going through with my request!)
@chinomiko and Beemoov for My Candy Love
18 notes · View notes
nextwarden · 3 years
Text
Webtoons are good for the soul PART II - ECLECTIC BOOGALOO
A continuation of this.
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Sea Salt and Sand by neggut [ongoing]
In the autumn holidays 3 months ago, Brynn and Bailey shared a kiss. When Bailey left, Brynn tried to forget all about her and continue living an unremarkable life, only for Bailey to suddenly transfer to her school! What follows is a coming of age story full of pining, misunderstandings and confusion as Brynn and Bailey question the true nature of their relationship. 
It’s cute and a bit angsty but not too much. The art style often feels incomplete or rushed but in a good way, its flaws give character to the characters and the story. One of my all time favourites.
Apathy meets labrador/10
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Dragonbourne by Gummy Shark [ongoing]
After a troubled past, Sir Ross Edmund Avery is somewhat content to lead a mundane existence, alone in his house. However, when he stumbles upon a child in the woods on Solstice Night who is anything but mundane, his simple life will be turned upside down.
A scar(r)ed man adopts a feral child, hijinks ensue. Once again, the art style is endearing, full of curves and long lines. Haven’t checked on that one in a while but the first twenty chapters were very promising.
Found family/10
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The Last Human by Zack Jordan [ongoing]
She's the galaxy's worst nightmare: a Human. Fortunately, she's the last one. Now her adoptive (alien) mother is realizing that raising a young Human is no easy task.
Basically the badass and child duo trope but the truth may surprise you. Fun, cute, very wholesome, and surprisingly emotionnaly philosophical at times. Spidermom is best mom.
Recommend/10
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Vampire Husband by Scragony [ongoing]
The life of Charles the Vampire an Cheryl the human after years of marriage.
What if tragic romance between human and vampire but they had their “happy-ever-after”? This is after. It’s funny and cute.
Relationship goals/10
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Blood Stain by sigeel [ongoing]
A story about courage, growing up and finding friendships in most unlikely places... spiced with some MAD SCIENCE! 
Haven’t quite wrapped my head around this one yet, but it’s fun and drawn by sigeel (a.k.a. Linda Sejic) so of course it’s beautiful. Enjoyed it a lot, will have to keep reading.
Bloody merry/10
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Punderworld by sigeel [ongoing - on hiatus]
Hades' and Persephone's love-struck misadventures.
Another take on Hades and Persephone’s love story. Once again, sigeel, so of course I love the art.
Bumbling idiots/10
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The Queen and the Woodborn by Shiniez [ongoing]
Far away behind seven hills and seven forests, seven fields and seven rivers, there lived a Queen... welcome to the queen and the woodborn. a fairy tale romance for the mature readers about the unseen Queen and the Goddess in the woods. a tale of the two forgotten by the world around them who will make the world remember their names. expect gods and monsters and a romance for the ages.
Not many chapters yet but very long ones to compensate. This one is by Shiniez (a.k.a. Stjepan Sejic) so, once again, love the art. The story, the character designs and concepts, and the pace are all amazing.
Very wow/10
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P.E.T.S. by Gyxks [ongoing]
Just when Tasha was about to start a new life, she was abducted by aliens. Fortunately, she and other humans were rescued by an interstellar general named Tourmaline. She soon discovered that her body was unfit to return home without endangering life on earth. Join her on her journey traversing this new world and these new feelings for an alien general. 
POV: You’re living your best life as a young adult, at the shopping mall at 2am in your pyjamas, when suddenly death aliens rain pain all around and you’re abducted only to be saved by tall buff alien commander lady. Romance ensues. Maybe, it’s slow burn but quite enjoyable to read.
Blush/10
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Scoob and Shag by Misterie Krew [ongoing]
Scoob and his best pal Shag are up to their usual hi-jinks, but everything is not as it seems in their latest adventure. 
No relations to any character whatsoever. None. None at all. Also no relations to any kind of sense at all either. Can’t quite explain that one except that it’s genius. Just read it.
Is that a gun?/10
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Bewitched by peachyytown [ongoing]
The witch who keeps "kidnapping" the princess is actually her girlfriend and they're just going on dates.
Short but cute alternative take on all that witch/monster/princess shenanigans. In the same vein as Our days in Lumain. Also the art is very nice.
Meetcute/10
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When the Pink Trees Bear Fruit by neggut [completed]
A sweet love blooms between two women on an orchard in 1973.
A short story, five chapters only, but play devastatingly well with one’s heart. In the same vein as It Stems From Love by Soya S. Holm. neggut ist sehr gut.
Tears/10
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Rooftops & Roommates by Zaanart [ongoing]
Jeb is an architecture major at university, rooming with his best friend Todd. There's just one problem... Jeb’s secretly a gargoyle! Between studying, partying, and a bad ghost problem, will Jeb be able to keep his true identity a secret?
Jeb is sweet, Jeb is fresh, but Jeb is decidedly not very good at keeping a secret. It’s funny, slice-of-life, roommate college shenanigans at its finest. With a magical twist.
Ship/10
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Everything is Fine by Mike Birchall [ongoing]
Sam and Maggie are a normal couple, in a normal house, in a normal neighborhood. There is nothing strange about their heads, their neighbors or their sweet little dog. Everything is Fine.
I haven’t actually started this one yet, but the premise is very very very interesting. Perhaps not for thos who are faint of heart? Deceptively cute. Or is it?
It’s fine/10
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Castle Swimmer by Wendy Lian Martin [ongoing]
What happens when your entire life is ruled by a prophecy – your future foretold by people you’ve never met, who died long before you were born.  Such is the story of two young sea creatures.  One believed to be a guiding light for his people, a Beacon who will lead them to a bright, prosperous future.  The other is a teenage prince for who’s destiny is to KILL the Beacon so that HIS own people might thrive.  When both reject the course set for them, it leads to a raucous adventure as big and unpredictable as the ocean itself – and a romance that nobody could have predicted.
It’s fish. It’s gay. It’s under da sea and ya gotta kiss the boy. I haven’t read it all yet but enough to vouch for it and to have some vested interest in the universe and its lore.
Enemies to lovers/10
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Demon Highschool by Kiiyoko [ongoing]
After a compromise it was agreed that criminals would attend a "demons highschool" where they would work as slaves for demons And while it was all in good favor, things take a very dark and twisted turn at said, highschool.
There’s something, some kind of twist, about the MC which I haven’t gotten to yet, and which I am very interested to discover. I’m not quite sure how I feel about this one as of now, mostly curious I’d say.
Pet/10
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Hooky by Miriam Bonastre Tur [completed]
Dani and Dorian have missed the bus of the school of magic. Now, they must find someone who teach them how to be a great and good witches... Or maybe not.​ 
This one is a strange one about witchery and family. Surprisingly deep and serious at times, very enjoyable. Unfinished on Webtoon but a good start to get into the story.
Siblings/10
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Loving Reaper by Jenny Jinya [ongoing]
Animals struggle. Pets and Wildlife alike. The reaper cares for their stories and helps them with the crossover. Short stories about the "Loving Reaper" to raise awareness and collect funds. Breaking hearts for a good cause.
Beautiful bittersweet stories about animals, pets, life and death and love.
Tissues/10
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Batman: Wayne Family Adventures by StarBite, CRC Payne, Kielamel Siba, Lan Ma, C.M. Cameron, and Camille Cruz [ongoing]
Batman needs a break. But with new vigilante Duke Thomas moving into Wayne Manor and an endless supply of adopted, fostered, and biological superhero children to manage, Bruce Wayne is going to have his hands full. Being a father can't be harder than being Batman, right? 
What if Bat-family but happy? Official comic, barely started, very fun.
Wholesome/10
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The First Night With the Duke by MSG, Taeva, from an original work by Hwang DoTol [ongoing]
A handsome, selfish noble falls for a beautiful, kind commoner -- at least, that’s how the story’s supposed to go. When an average college student wakes up as Ripley, an extra in her favorite romance novel, she resolves to enjoy the luxuries of her character’s status while watching the novel's plot unfold from the sidelines. However, her plans are soon derailed when she finds herself in bed with no other than Duke Zeronis, the novel’s hero! Dodging the villainess’ schemes, the Duke’s advances, and her own feelings, can Ripley keep the story on track and survive beyond the first night? 
Haven’t read that one but a very dear (and respectable) friend (*cough*  @berigolote​  *cough*) of mine keeps pestering me to give it a try. So here it is, try it.
Do it before me and you get a cookie/10
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HEART Anthology by Marvin.W, caw-chan and many other artists. [ongoing]
Featuring stories from the 2020 Short Story Contest!  From wholesome stories to tearjerkers, are you ready to catch these feelings?
A collection of beautiful stories on the shorter side, all about the many kinds of love in life, the many beauties of it, and the pains that make it worth living.
Tears that warm the heart/10
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In My Heart by Redfield42 [ongong]
Sasaki Mari is a typical delinquent troublemaker whose only goal is to get a boyfriend, but due to her reputation as bully and low grades, all the boys reject her. Then she decides to change her style, and asks for help from the student with the best grades in the class.
It starts off light and fund and progressively seems to delve a little bit more into the seriousness of life. Not a tragedy, however, and very much worth a read still.
I think I have a trope I like/10
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My awkward princess by LazyArts [ongoing]
This love story is about a girl named Luna charlotte, and the student council president Alice Evelyn. Luna is a delinquent whom often gets in trouble, as Luna reaches the end of the line she almost gets expelled, now luna has to become a model student with the help of Alice. Will Luna be expelled or will she succeed, read to find out.
Along the lines of Not So Shoujo Love Story, In My Heart, and Susuhara is a Demon. Delinquent/Good Student meetcute, romantinc hijincks ensue.
Seduction/10
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RAINBOW! by Rue & Sunny Gloom [ongoing]
This is the story of a girl named Boo. She has pink hair and a vivid imagination and she is about to discover a side of herself that she never considered before. 
Okay, so yes, this one is also also a delinquent meets cute nice girl, but - BUT! - there’s an element of story telling that I love about it: the way we see Boo’s anxiety incorporated visually into the story. Just for that it is one of my favourite recent discoveries!
Protecc/10
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Okay, that’s all for part II. Hope you enjoy those as much as I do. Thanks for your attention, sorry for the length and, please, do keep on reading, they all deserve it! As do you.
PART I
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bittywitches · 4 years
Note
36 w/ e ?!
36. You throw a snowball at a friend but miss and hit them instead. 
Blankets of snow covered everything the eye could see; roads, front lawns, rooftops. For the past few days it’d been snowing incredibly hard. Not hard enough for it to be a snowstorm, but definitely enough for a typical New Jersey winter. Everyone had been forced inside the last week or so, but the snowfall was finally slowing and the winds were calming down. Gentle showers of snow like this were always something you loved, because you were finally able to go out and enjoy how beautiful your home looked without fearing your face freezing off from the ice cold winds. It took a bit of convincing, but your aunt finally allowed you to take your cousin out for a brisk walk through the town. She trusted you, you were quite frequently taking her on trips to restaurants and arcades and bowling alleys when you were able to come back home from school, but your aunt was pretty afraid of her daughter getting sick. You assured her though, that she would be absolutely taken care of. You guys were around six or seven years apart, so you still considered her to be a bit of a child at times, but she liked to think of you as her cool older sister that she got to see every now and again.
Isabella trudged through the snow in her thick boots, having to hold her hands out every so often to steady her balance. The roads hadn’t been cleared yet, so heaps of snow were seen everywhere- atop bushes, car roofs, and mailboxes, making you think that they might fall over from the weight.
As you both shuffled down through the park, you laughed and talked about everything and anything. Eventually you ended up saying something that annoyed her (but still made her laugh), and she kicked the snow at her feet in your direction. You gasped, doing the same towards her, and it ended up evolving into a full on snowball fight. You ran from her as she bent down to make more snowballs, screaming when she tried to hit you again, but you successfully dodged them When she finally hit you square in your chest, your eyes darkened, hands planted on your hips with a devious smile. 
“Oh, you’re in for it now.”
She laughed and screamed as she ran away from you, you catching up to her with snowballs in your arms. You threw one at her, but you narrowly missed her, the snow splatting onto a tree behind her. You chased after her, laughing as you did. You winded your arm up one more, aiming to hit the pom-pom on her hat, but as soon as you threw the snowball Isabella ducked, the ball soaring past her (a lot farther than you would’ve thought), and it splattered against the shoulder of a man a few metres away. 
He was thoroughly startled, jerking his arm up at the impact, then looked in the direction the ball was coming from, effectively looking directly at you. There was another man with him, though you weren’t able to get a good look at him because you were so distracted by what you had done.
You gasped, dropping the remaining snowballs as your hands came up to cover your mouth. You could see your cousin crying and hacking in laughter in the corner of your vision, her doubled over body shaking with disbelief and you were almost urged to run over there and tackle her.
You started to run up to the man you’d hit, cupping your hands to shout at him: “I’m so sorry! That was meant for this brat!” You pointed at your cousin, but she was too busy dying to even notice or give a witty response.
The man dusted his shoulder off, but a lot of the snow stayed clung to the material of his plaid wool coat. As the snow fell it stuck to his tight black jeans, and you were pretty sure some had gotten into his boots.
You were kinda scared that this guy was gonna be a dick about this, say something about “watch where you’re fucking throwing” or whatever, but he turned to you with a slight malicious smile on his face. 
“You should be sorry,” He said, bending down to grab some snow into his bare hands, standing up as he packed it together, your eyes widening in the process. 
“Oh hell yea! I’ve been needing backup!” Isabella yelled, and the man shot her a big grin while he waved her over to him to hand her some ammo. 
Your eyes then decided to acknowledge the man with him, who had started to laugh as he bent down to tug at the wounded’s arm. He said something to the other, and then a smile grew on both of their faces before the man standing turned to you.
You werent’ given the time to disect what it meant, though, because the man you’d hit and Isabella had started running after you. You screamed, running behind benches and trees to get away from their throws. You’d lost them for a few seconds, just enough time to make more and get both of them square in their backs. 
“Hey!” The man yelled, rushing after you as Isabella stayed back to make more snowballs. You saw her get up, but her attention wasn’t on you; it was on the taller man back where they had originally stood. He wasn’t paying any attention to you guys, It looked like he was doing something on his phone, but when he was hit by one of Isabella’s snowball his head jerked in her direction, getting a look at her wicked grin. He laughed, stuffing his phone into his pocket before bending down to grab some snow in his hands and chase after her. When you saw the man you had hit in the corner of your vision, growing larger and larger, You squealed, the snow crunching below your feet as you ran from him. 
By now you could see a whole bunch of the neighbourhood joining in; The kids who had been making snowmen over by the gates had rushed over when they saw Izzy motion for them. You saw a couple who had been chilling on one of the benches join in on the fun as well. Eventually it looked like the entire park had joined in on your snowball fight, everybody drifting to separate teams as they did. It was amazing, it was exhilarating. You were still running, and you turned to see how far away your pursuer was, but that instant your foot caught onto a piece of ice jutting out of the ground, the toe of your boot catching then spinning you around, launching you onto your back.
You landed on your back, thankfully your head didn’t hit the ground, but your body hurt. You looked up to see the wide and frightened eyes of your pursuer, trying to skid to a stop but the ice sliding him forward. He let out a yelp and you did too, his boot hitting your foot causing him to topple over you. He definitely would’ve taken the wind out of you if he’d actually fallen with his entire weight onto you, but he was able to catch himself, planting both of his arms on either side of you, coincidentally leaving his face hovering right above yours.
You both stared at each other for a long moment, Your eyes wide and his pupils almost jittering as he flickered between both of yours. Your arms had come up protectively in front of your chest, but now it felt weird when they were pressed up between your bodies. You were sure that this awkward second would last an eternity, but then…
His beanie slipped off of his head and fell straight on your face.
Your arm came up to gently push it off, the cotton rubbing against your skin, and when your eyes met with his again, you both burst out laughing.
“Soldier! Stop flirting with the enemy!” You both turned your heads around to see Isabella shouting in your direction, and the man gave a small chuckle as your face heated up. “Shut up, Izzy! Get lost!” You shooed her away, and she shrugged, turning to run after one of the adults.
You both looked back at each other, and simultaneously your head fell back, and his down, both your bodies shaking from your laughter. Eventually you sat up, and he got up off of you to pull you to his feet. 
“Sorry.”
“It’s totally okay. We’re even now.” You both laughed a bit more.
“I’m Ethan,” He said, and you smiled as you brought your hand up to take the beanie off of your head.
“I’m Y/N. Do you live around here?”
“Used to. Me and my brother are just home to visit our mom. Lisa Dolan?”
Your eyes widened in delight. “Oh my god, I love Lisa! She lives right next to my mom’s old place. She used to babysit for our dogs when we were out of town!”
“Seriously?” 
“Yea! We moved just a few blocks away. Don’t see her as much anymore. Love her, though.”
“Obviously, she’s the best.”
You laughed, but you were interrupted when a snowball flew out of nowhere and hit Ethan in the head.
He jerked his head to the side to see one of the neighbourhood kids cackling at him. 
“Oh, I’m gonna get you!” He roared at the kid, and the child ran away laughing and screaming.
He was about to run off but you grabbed his arm with your gloved hand, and you held his hat out for him. 
“You’re forgetting this.”
He looked at you for a second, then took it from your hands just for his cold, red fingertips to gently pull the beanie onto your snow-ridden head.
“You keep it. Looks better on you.” He gave you a wink, then ran off to get his revenge on some elementary schoolers.
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Text
7 Days to Die - Part 4
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Threats
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Warnings: gun fights,  mild angst, injuries, SPN level blood and gore, scary situation, cliffhanger ending
Summary: All seems like a normal day  in the woods, but when two camps fight for whatever reason, leaving Jensen and the reader in the crossfire. It becomes a fight against the unseen enemy.
a/n: if you’ve ever played the last of us, you’ll know what is gonna come next…no, the cannibal part was the last one…I got twists up my sleeve. ENJOY! :)
Word Count:  1,494
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Main Masterlist
7 Days to Die Masterlist
Mobile Masterlist
~
She woke up to Jensen holding her close, she noticed she feels safe and well rested.
“You were crying out in your sleep.” He says. She stiffens, she didn’t realize he was up already. But relaxes right away.
“I didn’t wake you or anything?” she asks.
“No, I got in the house and heard you yelling my name.” he says.
“It’s just…” she says, trailing off. Before casting her eyes away from his, letting tears escape.
He felt her shudder, letting sobs silently escape.
“Hey, it’s okay sweetie.” He says. He brought up a hand, brushing some hair behind her ear, getting it out of her face. Cupping her cheek when he brought his hand down.
“I never stuck around a group before. Or been in the company of other people. Either they use me for sex, or to get them supplies like cheap labor. Or, they die off, like I’m some kind of bad luck or curse.” She cries. “It’s like I’m getting these poor people killed.” She sobs.
Wheels in his head began to work in her direction. “Wait, do you blame yourself for Jared?” he asked.
When she didn’t answer, his heart sank.
“Sweetheart, that wasn’t your fault. Shit happens, you just have bad luck. You’re not the bad luck. Just, call it bad timing.” He says, as he holds her close in a tighter embrace. She sobbed, crying hard in his arms. Part of her believed him, but the demons in her head kept trying to convince her otherwise.
He plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay sweetheart. I don’t blame you for anything, I bet Jared wouldn’t either.” He says.
She pulls away to look at him, to see if he’s lying to her. But she sees a soft and gentle look from Jensen that tells her he’s telling her the truth.
“Have a few extra minutes to yourself, I’m gonna get us something to eat.” He says, getting out of bed, working her out of his arms doing so.
She turns onto her back, wiping her tears from her face taking a deep breath, relaxing.
 After a quick breakfast of apples picked from nearby trees, they hit the road.
“What were the kids odds with the fever and all?” she asked after some hours on the silent walk.
“Misha said with JJ, she has a shot. The twins it might be hard to tell since their immune systems are still developing. But with Danneel, it was attacking her hard-core. Said it threw her immune system into overdrive, she might not have a chance.” Jensen said.
“Well, we just need to hurry with these meds. She might have a shot.” Y/N said.
“How can you remain so cheery, and positive?” he asks.
“I don’t know. But it’s how I am. I always smile, because I have to. It keeps me somewhat sane. Keeps me from ending it all.” She says.
“Like hell I would let you kill yourself.” Jensen says. “It just amazes me in all this, death and despair, you’re still happy and all smiles. Well, maybe not always happy.” He says.
“I amaze myself sometimes.” She says.
A loud boom interrupts their conversation.
“That sounded close.” She says.
“Yes it did.” Jensen says.
It all happened so fast. A shot rang out, and Jensen was on the ground clutching his side, just near his hip. Y/N ducks down, low to the ground. But once they were out of sight, the shots kept going but not towards them.
“We’re near camps.” Jensen says gasping. He held on to his injury for dear life to stop the bleeding.
“A war?” she asked.
“More than likely,” Jensen says. “We gotta get out of here.” He adds, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain.
“You’ve been hit.” She says. Crawling over to him. She assesses his injury. “God you’re just gushing,” she says, shimmying out of Jensen’s flannel he lent her. She moves his hands briefly to place the flannel over the wound to help with stopping the bleeding.
When she tried to look around, after she got Jensen set with slowing the bleeding, the shooting began to come back to her. She gets down low.
“We’re surrounded.” She cries.
“We’re gonna die if we can’t get out of here.” He says, voice rough from him fighting the pain.
“We might have to back track, wait them out.” She says.
“However long that may be.” Jensen says.
“Jay, you’re bleeding out, if we try to get around them, you’re injury will get worse, with ducking and dodging bullets. Yes, we lengthen our time out here if we head back to the cabin, but we need to get you out of the open, and patch you up.” she says.
“You’re right, god I know your right I just want to get back home.” he says.
“I know, I want to at least make a home for myself, and we’ll get there. But first, we have to actually get there first. Alive.” She says.
He nods. She can see him growing tired.
Shit, he’s still losing so much blood. She thought.
“How much do you think you can move?” she asked.
“I’ll make do, let’s head back and wait them out.” He says. As he rolls to his stomach and prepares to army crawl out of the crossfire.
Once they were clear, crawling for what seemed like several feet to nearly a mile. She helped Jensen to his feet, and they hurried to the nearest cabin.
Y/N checked to see if it was occupied, silence confirmed they were alone.
Jensen plopped down on the couch, the color leaving his face quick.
She searched each and every pack Jensen had on him, finding a kit for stitching and removing unwanted items.
“Okay, this is happening.” She says. “I didn’t see an exit wound, so the bullet is still in you. We need to get it out, despite it holding the bleeding, kind of.” She says.
“I know the drill, trust me. I’ve been through worst, Jared’s removed bullets from me before.” He says.
“Don’t…don’t tell me the stories yet…” she says, getting worked up. “Now, take this.” She says, handing him a strip of leather. He puts it in his mouth, biting down on it.
She takes a flashlight, putting it in her mouth aiming it at his wound. She heads in with the surgical plyers. He jerks, grunting, even holding back a yell.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She tells him, holding back tears.
As she enters deeper, she doesn’t feel anything.
He turns his head, working through the pain as he continues to writhe in pain.
“Jay, I don’t feel anything.” She says.
He spits out the leather. “Keep looking, get it out of me.” He shouts. She nods. Grabbing the leather, putting it back in his mouth for him. He bites down on it hard. Letting out a yell of pain.
She kept going till she felt something hard. She clamps down on it, and begins to slowly pull it out.
“I think I got it.” she says. Pulling out of his wound, revealing a bullet. “Got it.” she says with a sigh, panting a bit. Getting worked up and anxious.
He spits out he leather once again. “Fantastic.” He pants.
“Okay, from the looks of it, no artery was severed, so I’m gonna stitch you up really quick.” She says.
Grabbing the kit, some thread she begins to patch him up like she did before.
Jensen was out of it the whole time. In and out of consciousness as she stitched him up.
Once done she coaxed him awake. He weakly opened his eyes.
“We need to get you to a bed to heal, the couch is no place for it.” she says.
Not arguing it, he nods and gets up. Only to wince, and jerk back down on the couch. Clutching his side.
“I’ll help, try to keep your torso straight.” She advised. Taking his hand, she helps pull him up to his feet. Letting him lean against her as she helped him to a bed, just down a short hall from the living room.
She takes off his shirt, pants and boots. Leaving him in boxers and socks. She put a large bandage on  his wound to keep it protected, prevent it from getting infected as best as she could.
 As the day wore on, she could still hear the battle rage on down the road. All she could do was shake her head.
We should all band together, unite, not fight. She thought.
She stayed up the whole night, keeping watch.
 One day, turned to three, she noticed Jensen wasn’t getting better.
She changed his bandage. Seeing it red, it was infected. She had used the antiseptic from earlier, but now they’re out, when she checked their packs.
“Shit.” She says.
Jensen, stayed asleep. His body fighting.
She noticed his color never came back. She placed a careful hand on his forehead.
He’s burning up.
I got to get him antibiotics, fast. She thought.
 TO BE CONTINUED…
~
Jensen Tag list:
@luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @mlovesstories​, @salt-n-burn-em-all​, @moonlight-on-her-skin​, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​
~
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kittenfemme27 · 4 years
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Bastion: What it means to truly move on.
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“Someday, your bird is gonna fly.”
Bastion is the first game released by what is now the critically acclaimed Supergiant Games, makers of other games like Transistor, Pyre, and most recently Hades. But back in 2011 they were a nobody. 7 developers from various backgrounds within the industry came together to make games that could focus on storytelling first and foremost more than any of their previous studios would allow. Bastion was the result of that. Starting out from the idea of a top down isometric RPG, Supergiant realized that they wanted to portray a world that was fractured and broken, and wanted to show the vast and empty sky as a contrast to that destruction, but realized the camera angle wouldn’t allow this. So they came up with the idea that the ground would come up in front of the player as they walked forward, allowing the empty sky to show beneath them since the groundwork would not originally be laid until the player walked towards it. To explain this choice and why the world reacted this way, a destructive event known as “The Calamity” was created in the game's story. Thus, Bastion found its ethos.
Bastion’s a masterpiece. Plain and simple. It's been ported to nearly everything under the sun for a reason, being playable on literally 3 different console generations as well as every OS a PC can run, but coming back to play this game for the first time within the current political and geological climate that we find ourselves within as time goes on only makes it more and more apparent how much the story has to say. Even if you could somehow ignore it’s absolutely incredible music, insanely varied and addictive and yet delightfully simple gameplay, jaw dropping art direction and set pieces, Bastion’s storytelling is at its core and the story it has to tell is one that I think a lot of people didn’t fully appreciate back in 2011. From what I could find online, most people either ignored it in favor of the gameplay, or let the meaning of it glaze over them. And that's really, deeply a shame. Because Bastion is one of the best games I have ever played. And I’d like to talk about why.
Gameplay:
“Kid just rages for a while...”
I want to start first and foremost by talking about the gameplay and how you engage with the world. Combat in Bastion is simple and not exactly groundbreaking. An isometric hack ‘n’ slash with 2 weapon slots and a single ability, with a shield that has a parry mechanic and a dodge roll with fairly lenient invulnerability frames. Player movement is very, very slow which encourages you to very quickly become proficient in dodging and blocking. It’s fun, for sure, if just a little bit easy. But it’s nothing to write home about at first. As you play, though, you’ll begin to uncover Bastion's hidden depth and variety within its combat. A lot of that depth comes from the sheer number of Weapons, Upgrades, Passives, and Skills you can equip in any combination. 
You are given 11 weapons, each of which can be upgraded with collectibles found within the levels for a total of 5 times per weapon, and these upgrades form a loose “trees” of upgrades that you can switch between at will. You can make the Spear better at critical hits and critical damage and faster thrusts, or make it better at throwing with more spears per throw, for example. Every single weapon has a 2 distinctive upgrade “Trees” in this way that clearly make it better at one specific aspect of the weapon, but you are free to mix and match these upgrades as you see fit. Maybe you want the Spear to have a high critical hit rate, but also throw 2 spears per throw, you can do that. It’s also worth mentioning that there are no restrictions placed upon you on what type of weapons you want to take. You can take two melee weapons, or two ranged weapons, whatever combination you desire is up to you. The narrator even has a line for literally every combination you can have that you’ll hear upon exiting the armory. Some compare you to legends of yore from the game worlds past, others point out just how plain silly it is for the Kid to carry both a mortar launcher and a rocket launcher.
Each weapon also comes with two skills that you can use during gameplay, ranging from protective skills like one that makes you block all attacks for a few seconds, to damage based skills such as the Bow’s skill that fires a ricocheting arrow between enemies. Even then, there are other Skills that are tied to no weapons at all which brings the total of skills in the game to 30.
In addition, there’s the Tonic system in which each level up confers a slot that you can equip a drink from the bar, for a total of 10 at max level. These function as passives applied to your character that allow even further customization. Some are basic things you’d expect, such as overall more health, or more restoration or ability potions, a flat 15% damage resistance, and so on. A number of these however offer a very very strong benefit in exchange for a side effect. Werewhiskey, for example, gives you a 100% crit rate but only below 35% health. Doomshine offers a permanent 10% crit but takes away 10% of your health permanently. Or Leechade, which allows you to gain health from striking enemies, but makes your health potions only 1/3rd as effective. These can all be stacked upon each other in any order or combination. You choose and be changed at any point between missions..
All of these systems together enhance the very simple hack ‘n’ slash combat to be something with infinitely more depth than presented to you at first glance, and something that you can experiment with as much as you want, since no choice is permanent. Part of the way it encourages you to experiment are the Weapon Challenge missions that crop up each time you obtain a new weapon. They ask you to complete some sort of challenge related to that weapon with no Skills, no other weapons, and in some of them not even the ability to dodge or block. Besting these will net you 1 of 3 prizes, depending on how well you did, With the first two prizes being upgrade materials and the last being a Skill for the weapon the challenge is based on.
Beating Bastion unlocks a “Score-Attack” version of New Game+ that keeps a running overall score during the whole game and during stage specific score for each mission, with a multiplier and a timer to keep that multiplier up. This effectively turns the game into a leaderboard chasing isometric arcade game. Every enemy adds 1 to the multiplier, and resets the timer, so it's up to you to run through each mission as fast as possible and challenge yourself to see what kind of score you can get, and since it lets you replay any mission you want, you can always find ways to get a higher and higher score. One of my playthroughs of this game was on the PS Vita and even since beating it, I've found myself trying to one-up my own score while i’m just sitting around since each mission only takes about 10-20 minutes. The most challenging content in the game is a set of 4 different repeatable combat arena’s with 20 waves of some of the toughest enemies in the game. You can make this even harder by invoking each God within the games Pantheon and raising the difficulty of every enemy you encounter. Doing this raises how many points you get per kill, and in these combat arena’s I’ve regularly topped a million points in just a single stage from precise gameplay.
I think that’s what I find amazing about Bastion’s combat is that despite 3 playthroughs, I never once found myself bored or annoyed by any of it. All 3 of my playthroughs had me switching up Weapons, Upgrades, Skills, and Tonics between every mission just to experiment and see what crazy builds I could make. Every challenge was always a delight and a real test of skill, every mission a romp where I got to find a new weapon and play with it each time. Often, I would die, but that was fine! Losing in Bastion is fun. It’s part of the experience, because you can always go back and change your build to whatever you desire to try again. In a way, it’s fitting for the entire theme of the game. It’s the End of the world, and there are no more rules. Do whatever you’ve gotta do. Might as well have fun with it, while you do. 
Art & Sound:
“I suppose all that's left... is to try'n remember this moment.”
I think the other reason that I didn’t get bored on any of my 3 playthroughs of Bastion was the absolutely breathtaking art and music the game features. The soundtrack, composed by Darren Korb, clocks in only at an hour and while that does sometimes mean that there are repeats of songs, I'd be lying if I told you there was a single song on that score that I didn’t absolutely love. Or that I thought was out of place during any section of the game. Each and every song is its own radically different soundscape that, in songs like “Brynn the Breaker”, invokes a feeling of complete and utter destruction around you and a sense of leaning into that destruction. It’s fitting that the first time this song plays, you are almost assuredly going to hear the line “Kid just rages for awhile...” as you wreck each and every enemy and object around you after waking up on a floating rock in the sky.  Meanwhile, in other songs such as “Build that Wall”, it's clear that Supergiant was acutely aware of the impact their music could have on a scene. In Caelondia, the games world, “Build that Wall” is a jingoistic anthem meant to inspire the Cael by noting the danger they face from the outside world and from the Ura, a people who live to the east, and implores them to build walls to keep everyone else but keep themselves safe. But the first time you hear that song, you’ll be rolling through the dilapidated ruins of Prosper Bluff, a place overrun by birds ready to rip you apart and barely hanging together by literal boards between each floating island, and not a wall in sight. Guided only by the simultaneously soothing and haunting voice of an Ura girl singing the theme of the people who hate her. In that moment, it sounds much more sorrow and sad than any anthem for a nation ever could.
Darren Korb has stated that the point of Bastions music was meant to invoke a sense of the “American Frontier”, of exploring new and uncharted land, but it’s interwoven with melodic and slow moments of tragedy and despair, featuring lots of slow acoustic guitar and lots of slow vocals when there are any at all. I really cannot praise enough this choice of frontier-ism interwoven into the music itself, as it sells the entire theme of the game perfectly.
The art of the game is just as fantastic, too. Supergiant set out to make sure you could see the sky in a top down game, which sounds a little absurd and like a nearly impossible feat, and yet they succeeded with such aplomb it almost seems like it was easy. Below each stage is a blurred barrage of trees, nature, clouds, sky, sometimes ruins within those things, it reminds you constantly that the world has ended and nature has reclaimed it. Progressing further and further down the set of missions and further away from the Bastion and Caelondia sees you going more and more into what's left of those wilds and away from the ruins of civilization, before reaching the icy peaks in the east of the Ura. It creates this feeling of loss and tragedy at what's lost, a sense of exploration into this new and unknown world, before finally getting to it's cold center as you get closer to the truth of the Calamity.
In general, the art style of Bastion feels like a living breathing oil painting. Features on people are exaggerated with small bodies, yet large heads and eyes and hands or feet. Making them feel like something out of a children's book. Every single thing in the game is full of color and life, down to the animals and the foliage, with the only notable exceptions being the ruins of buildings that are oppressive and gray, and the final cold reaches of the Ura’s leftover ruins. Because of the oil painting aesthetic, the narration, even the surreality of the world coming up before you, Bastion feels a lot more like playing a fairy tale than anything else I've ever played, even things that have tried to emulate that same effect. Bastion reminds us that the presentation of a game, in both its art and its music, tell just as much about the story and the world of a game as the actual story itself does.
Story: (Spoiler Warning)
“Now here’s a kid who’s whole world got twisted, leaving him stranded on a rock in the sky.”
Bastion is a game about a lot of things, but at its heart, it’s a game about Tragedy. A tragedy you can’t prevent no matter what you do, because it has already happened. Setpieces in the game constantly remind you of this, like going through the Hanging Gardens, a place where people used to gather and finding nothing but ashen corpses. Rucks, Bastion’s narrator, will even tell you the names of these people. I remember playing this game in 2011 and being upset at this. I wanted to know about Maude the Tutor, I wanted to hear the life of Percy the Snitch, but I couldn’t. That was the tragedy. It didn’t register with me at the time, but that was the point. I was supposed to be upset I couldn’t know these people, that they died in a tragedy I couldn’t prevent. 
The core story of Bastion revolves around a war that took place some 50 odd years ago. Caelondia and her people, versus the Ura. In the modern day, before the calamity, the war was over. There was an Ura named Zulf who was trying to broker peace, even. But the Caelondian’s military-science division, the “Mancers” had a secret weapon. One they intended to use to get rid of the Ura for good. It would cause a genocide of the very land the Ura lived in and cause it to literally fall into nothing, ripping apart the physical earth where it stood before. Worse yet, this weapon was being created by an Ura inventor that lived within Caelondia named Venn under threat to his daughter, Zia. Venn couldn’t stand to aid the destruction of his people and sabotaged the weapon that ushers in the Calamity with vengeance in his heart, so that it would backfire and take Caelondia down with it. Imagine Venns shock, then, when the mancers asked him to pull the trigger.
Turns out an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Just like that, the Calamity has already happened. The Ura who were discriminated against in every part of Cael society and the racism and cycle of vengeance and violence within the Caels and the Ura reached a boiling point that caused the literal end of the world.. And that’s where you wake up. In a world already torn apart and crumbling before you. On a rock in the sky.
Tragedy permeates everything about the game. In the Hanging Gardens, you find Zulf as he’s about to kill himself after watching his Cael wife crumble to ash right before his eyes. When you meet the second survivor, an Ura singer who just so happens to be Zia, Venns daughter. She’s mournfully singing the tune of Caelondia that was the anthem used to inspire the Caels to oppress her own people, and her sweet voice sounds like the dying breath of an entire nation. Bastion makes it very clear that these people's lives as they knew them are over. But then Bastion asks you a simple question: You have to keep going, so what are you going to do with that world?
Before you get to make that choice, though, you’re asked to decide the fate of a man who hurts you. Zulf at one point reads the journal of Venn that he obtains from Zia and learns everything about the Calamity. He learns about the Mancers plan to genocide his people. He learns about Venns sabotage. Zulf spent his entire life advocating for peace between the two peoples, and this is what he’s met with. Unable to stand it, he attempts to destroy the Bastion and flees after injuring Rucks. As you chase him, he lures you far from the Bastion and sends the signal to an entire army of Ura survivors to attack the Bastion, even persuading Zia to come with him to try and convince her to abandon the Bastion. In the end, though. You chase him all the way to the heart of the Ura nation and as retaliation for bringing someone so powerful who kills so many Ura, the Ura forces attack Zulf and leave him for dead. You come across his body and are given a choice to either leave him and carry on, or take him with you and abandon your weapon. You’re asked right then and there, can you forgive someone who hurt you and your chance at fixing the world and break the cycle of violence? Or will you press on, like Venn, with vengeance in heart. If you choose to save Zulf, you walk forward with zulf on your shoulder through multiple Ura archers shooting you nearly to death. It’s only once they realize that you’re trying to save Zulf do they stop trying to attack you. This moment of compassion, this breaking of the cycle, inspires the Ura to let you pass. If you choose not to save him, you must battle an entire army, which isn’t even hard for you at that point. It’s a bloodbath. You, a Cael kid from nowhere, end the last of the Ura outside of Zia who knows so little of her culture that she can’t even read the journal her father left over. You succeed where the Mancers failed. The cycle of violence remains unbroken within you and within your heart.
You’re given two options upon returning to the Bastion at the end. You can use the power of the Bastion to reset the world to where it was before the Calamity. You’ll lose all your memories, but everyone and everything that died will be okay and alive again. There’s a risk, though. Rucks has no way of knowing if this plan will work. If it will prevent the Calamity in the end. “Problem with a machine that sets things back to a bygone time,”  he says, “Is that you can’t test it.”
Your other option is Zia’s choice, though both her and Rucks support whatever decision you make, they know it’s not an easy choice. Her plan is to turn the Bastion into a floating island ship that can travel anywhere. To forge a new world and look for survivors on other floating islands and carry on in this destroyed world and find hope within that tragedy. Make something new, and beautiful, from the ashes of something dead. Maybe that’s not possible, she thinks, but it’s better than recreating a world with institutional violence, with cycles of hate and vengeance, a world where something like the Calamity could happen in the first place.
Supergiant knew what most people would pick, though. Resetting seems like the only real choice, at first. Maybe the Calamity will happen again, maybe it won’t, but you can’t just let all those people die. The whole game has been building up to fixing the Calamity. Rucks, old and clinging to the past, is sure that resetting it will work and that things will be okay again. He’s a bit like a father figure to you, too. He’s narrated every action you took, made sure you were never truly alone in this ruinous world. So of course you trust him. An overwhelming amount of people chose to reset the world the first time they play. I did, too. I knew that maybe the Calamity would happen again, but I couldn’t just let everyone die. Maybe things would be different, I thought. Maybe this time people won’t let something like a genocide happen again. Maybe Venn won’t pull the trigger. I didn’t know, but it was better than letting everyone die, right? It had to be. I had to hope that I made the right decision. So with trepidation in my heart. I chose to reset everything.
Rucks comforts you when you choose to reset that “No matter what happens next... you done good.” Credits roll. You see pictures of the lives of each character in the reset Caelondia. The lonesome Kid continues his work as a mason on the wall built to keep the Ura out, where he isolated himself after losing everyone in his life. The only person to ever sign up for 2 tours on the Wall. Rucks continues his work on the Bastion, refining it for the future, meaning that there’s still a need for a safeguard like it in the first place. Zia plays a concert on her harp with a mournful look on her face, she found comfort in music but that comfort was equally as isolating and lonely, what with her being an Ura girl in Caelondia. Zulf gets married to his fiancee, blissfully unaware of the impending genocide on his people while he fruitlessly brokers peace. Upon seeing these credits, these images of the lives of these characters, I knew I made a mistake. History is going to repeat itself. Sure they were alive, and so was everyone else, but the cycle of violence remains unbroken and eventually, even if the Calamity that befell the world the first time doesn’t happen again, another will. Rucks final words in this ending are a simple forlorn goodbye. “So long kid... Maybe I'll see you in the next one. Caelondia... We’re coming home.”
Choosing this ending left me feeling anxious at first, and then hollow and empty. I didn’t save anyone, I just clung to the past. I expected things to be different in a world where something like the Calamity could happen in the first place. I knew, then, that for there to be any hope at all I had to move on from the old world. I had to do right by Rucks, by Zia, even by Zulf. They were my friends. They deserved better, they deserved more. They deserved a world without the conflict and violence that Caelondia brings. I understood even more clearly what I had done when, upon starting a new game, Rucks final words echoed over the loading screen. As far as I could tell, the Calamity had happened again. Rucks even makes comments of feeling a sort of deja-vu while retelling the story and is much less confident resetting will work the second go around, for a reason he just can’t quite explain.
Bastion is a story about tragedy, about generational trauma left over from a war, about the cycle of violence and all that it perpetuates. It’s a story about waking up in a world that has already crumbled and fallen apart through no fault of your own and being told there is nothing you can do about that destruction. And there isn’t. Climate change is a bigger problem now in 2020 than it ever was in 2011. People are going to die, it’s just an awful fact at this point. Those in charge continue to ignore that fact and these issues while also continuing to stoke the fires and flames of the impoverished and destitute more and more every day, bleeding them dry for any pennies they might have. 
But that’s not all Bastion has to say. It’s not fair for the next generation just like it wasn’t fair for the Kid, to wake up in a world already destroyed, and yet still, people like the Kid and Zia found hope. Within Bastion, you can save Zulf and end the cycle of violence, you can choose Zia’s option and set out on a world that is better for everyone in the end, as ruined as it is. Even in the end of the world and everything you knew, there is hope. Bastion doesn’t just ask, it begs on hands and knees for the next generation to take up this dying world and make it better. Bastion, and Supergiant, believes in the next generation. that it's possible to move on from the past and make something better, to seize control and make a better world while purposefully never forgetting the cycles of violence that led us to the end of the world in the first place. Our great Calamity is already unfolding before us and there isn’t anything we can do to stop it, only delay it. Bastion tells us that it's okay, that we can make something beautiful, and new, and better from those ashes. 
In the scene for the Evacuation ending, Rucks tells us that he’s not sure how to live in a world like this, but he’s willing to learn. And excitedly offers to help teach you how to fly the Bastion through the skies. The very first image you see during the credits then, is the Kid finally collapsing of exhaustion and resting while Rucks tucks him in. The next is Zia looking forward on the deck of the Bastion, a smile on her face and hope in her heart. You get to see Rucks later teaching the Kid how to fly the Bastion, finally giving the Kid the family that he so desperately needed, and finally you see Zulf. He’s got a frown on his face, he’s still lost everything in the Calamity after all. More than anyone. But he’s chopping food for everyone else still, helping out where he can. I couldn’t help but think upon seeing his expression that he might hate me for the rest of my life, and that was alright. I’d always just be happy he was alive. Seeing the smiling faces of everyone in the Evacuation made something very clear to me. In the Old World, Zia was an outcast, Zulf was a fool, Rucks was nostalgic, and the Kid was alone. In the Calamity, they found friendship, they found happiness, they found love and family in each other, they found adventure and they found hope for the future. Zia’s final words to the Kid echoed in my head:
"Any moment I'd want to live again... happened after the Calamity. Not before."
And I was at peace. I knew I had done the right thing I had chosen to move on, accepting the world for what it was and not looking for miracle solutions to fix it or change it, but to forge on ahead with what I had and make something better. 
Bastion’s story is not directly told to you, especially after the ending. There is no epilogue that tells you exactly what happened, just a few lines of dialogue that you can make of what you will and some pictures of the lives after your choice. it’s never explicitly stated that the Calamity happens again if you choose to reset things. It’s meaning is in between the lines that Rucks has to say. It’s In the subtext. It's in the art, it's in the environment, like the tragedy of finding nothing but ashen corpses around a lone peace talker right before he’s about to jump to his death. It’s in the music, like the haunting melody of an outcast’s voice singing the song of her oppressors while never realizing how much the very city she was raised in tried to exterminate her. But more than anything it's in the feeling you get while you play. Bastion’s story plays out in your heart as much as it plays out in your mind and on the screen in-front of you. What you feel, what you make of it, that’s just as important to the meaning of the story as what you’re hearing and seeing. Obviously this can be said of all stories, but Bastion is maybe the one that’s resonated most in my heart and in my soul more so than any other story. It offers no simple answers, no painless choices, and no easy ways out. Move on, or cling to the past, those are your only two options and Bastion forces you to make a choice.
In the end, I chose a new world. A better world. A world with my friends that would never let the cycles of violence and the generational trauma that caused the Calamity to happen again. Sure, resetting technically brings everyone back to life, but it wasn’t until I chose to move on and move forward that I felt I could even say in my heart that I’d saved anyone at all. 
Conclusion: 
“I dig my hole, you build a wall.”
“Build that wall, and build it strong, Cause we’ll be there before too long.”
Bastion is, and I'm not saying this lightly, a perfect game. The gameplay loop and combat is phenomenal and addicting, the music and art and aesthetics are so top notch you could honestly create an entire art style out of them all on their own, the storytelling is amazing and has so much to say that I cannot believe something this important was just thrown out by an indie studio nobody had ever heard of while it was only 7 people strong, and how many people slept on it or completely missed the point of the tragedy of Caelondia and the Ura. 
This game will live in my heart for a very, very long time and its music and messages it conveyed will stick with me even longer. My only regret with Bastion is that I’ll never get to experience it for the first time again. But, even with the spoilers here, you can. Play it, Kid. You won’t regret it.
“We can't go back no more. But I suppose we could go... wherever we please.”
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anghraine · 4 years
Text
pro patria, chapters 1-7
I don’t actually expect people to read this, but I want it over here for completeness’s sake, so—the Guild Wars 2 fic!
This one is ... different, apart from being for a canon that I think maybe three of my friends are interested in, because instead of writing a one-shot in my format of seven sections of seven sentences each, I've written an entire 70k+ fic that way. Each chapter is precisely 49 sentences long, which makes for a lot of very short chapters, so I'm bunching them up into groups of (of course!) seven.
It’s business as usual, however, in having copious footnotes (these ones assume everyone’s unfamiliar with the canon story).
title: pro patria (1-7/?) stuff that happens: a young Ascalonian woman grows from a sheltered aristocrat, to a hero rushing into danger to help a nearby village, to the investigator of a series of mysterious abductions and thefts tied to the Ministry itself.  verse: Ascalonian grudgefic characters/relationships: PC (mesmer / human / noble origin / missing sister [Ascalonian]), Lord Faren, Minister Ailoda, Deborah, Countess Anise, Logan Thackeray; PC & Ailoda, PC & Deborah, PC & Anise, PC & Faren
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ONE 1 I always thought of myself as Ascalonian first, and Krytan second. Both of my parents were Ascalonian—my mother came from a family of Rurikton refugees fallen on good times, my father from Ebonhawke, and I was born there, myself. Mother had resigned from the Ministry over some quarrel with Minister Caudecus, and hammered in her protest by uprooting the entire family for an extended holiday with my aunt Elwin in Ebonhawke. This was long before the Rurikton gate got fixed on Ebonhawke, so in the off phases, people generally took “going to visit family in Ebonhawke” as a euphemism for something. But Mother being Mother, she headed through Lion’s Arch to the Black Citadel of all places, carved her way through only the gods knew what to the gates of Ebonhawke, turned herself over to the Vanguard, and waited for Aunt Elwin to show up and get them released. She was seven months pregnant with me by the time she arrived, Father and five-year-old Deborah in tow. And two months later, she delivered me there, Father and Aunt Elwin at her side, and Charr siege engines in her ears. 2 Father always wanted to go back to Kryta, for Deborah’s sake and mine. And during the times that the Rurikton gate got switched to Ebonhawke, when our kin in Divinity’s Reach rushed supplies through, requests for Mother’s return to the Ministry came with them. She only said, “We need soldiers, not supplies—yes, I know centaurs are attacking them, but —” “We need to go home,” said Father. A Charr attack shook her resolve more than he did: one that briefly broke through the walls while Deborah was out walking with Aunt Elwin. But it was Aunt Elwin who convinced Mother that she could do more to help our people in the Ministry than as one more staff against the Charr legions. She accepted the latest offer from the Ministry, this time to serve as representative of the Salma District itself, and we headed—home, to a place I’d never seen. 3 My father was a Fairchild, a descendant—if collateral—of Duke Barradin himself, while my mother was only a Langmar, and a Langmar of mixed heritage, no less. But Langmar meant nearly as much as Fairchild in Rurikton, where the family had owned a mansion for generations. When we first arrived, I’d never seen anything like it, for Aunt Elwin’s house in struggling Ebonhawke couldn’t begin to compare to the splendid gardens and shining marble of a mansion in Divinity’s Reach. Even Deborah, her eleven-year-old dignity often stronger than any other feeling, couldn’t help staring around with wide eyes. Mother, meanwhile, gained a still greater mansion in the Salma District upon receiving her appointment as representative, but she wanted us safe from the politicking and corruption of the Ministry. Deborah and I grew up quietly in Langmar Manor, educated with other Ascalonian nobles by Ascalonian tutors, familiar with every corner of Rurikton and very little beyond it. Deborah chafed at the confinement, but I was a little girl, content enough to spend my days playing and studying with Yolanda, Corone, and Faren, new and lifelong friends. 4 Deborah joined the Seraph the day she turned twenty. “I don’t understand,” I said blankly. “We call ourselves Ascalonians,” she told me, “and that means more than tracing our family trees. You don’t remember Ebonhawke, but those are real Ascalonians, fighting for what they love—like our ancestors fought for what they loved—but we’re happy to boast of their names without doing anything. Captain Thackeray could just sit back and enjoy everything he gets for being Gwen Thackeray’s heir, but he isn’t, and I won’t either. Ascalon is lost, even if Rurikton and the Settlement and Ebonhawke will never admit it, but as long as Kryta stands, we have something to fight for.” Deborah as a Seraph, solving crimes, keeping order, and skirmishing with the occasional bandit raid, wasn’t half so chilling a prospect as Deborah fighting legions of Charr, so I didn’t say what I thought—as long as Ebonhawke stands, we have Ascalon to fight for. 5 Deborah’s departure left the whole family scattered: my mother in Salma, my father dead, my aunt and cousins in Ebonhawke, my sister stationed all the way down in Claypool, and some remote relations and me in Rurikton. Mother, still grieving Father and anxious over Debs, decided that at fifteen, I was old enough to come live with her in her Ministry mansion. I’d felt lonely and restless in Langmar Manor, but I still received the news with very little short of horror. “You’re going the next district over, not across the world,” said Yolanda. “I’ll take a house in Manor Hill too,” Faren said recklessly, “and we’ll have amazing parties.” Faren being Faren, he actually did, aided by his father’s relief at him showing interest in something beyond Rurikton high society—even if that thing was only Salma high society. My mother kissed me when we arrived, and with a smile, told Faren, “It’s a pleasure to know you’ll be keeping my girl company, and of course, just to see you—you’re looking so well!” He preened. 6 We spent those early weeks exploring Salma, curious and cheerful despite ourselves, suppressing giggles as we followed a dour guide about the district. “Orr was destroyed,” the guide was saying, “Ascalon was ravaged by the Foefire; only Kryta is left, and that by a narrow margin.” “Ascalon was ravaged by the Searing,” I said sharply, all laughter gone. Nobody would call Faren a great wit, but when it came to conversation and society, his instincts were impeccable. “You must have gotten the order confused, good sir—the Searing came first, the Foefire when everything was already wrecked—but a simple mistake, I’m sure—you were saying something about Kryta?” Biting back the first words that came to my lips, I forced myself to smile and say, “Sorry, we’re Ascalonian.” “I guessed,” said the guide. 7 I suppose I was a callow, coddled creature in those days, spoiled if not malicious—and though three years of even more luxury in Salma didn’t change that, a single letter did. To Minister Ailoda Langmar, I regret to inform you of the loss of Falcon Company in a centaur raid. Your daughter, Sergeant Deborah Fairchild, died honourably in battle. With my deepest condolences to you and your family, Captain J. Tervelan of the Seraph (Queensdale) As Mother staggered backwards, I caught her, and somehow afterwards, that was always the clearest memory: her weight in my arms, the letter falling out of her hand, fluttering downwards until it reached the floor, nothing visible but the seal of the Seraph. Until then, I’d been little more than an irritable butterfly, but with Mother shattered, I found myself willingly shouldering the work of mourning: the formal letters and heartbroken notes, the refusal of Deborah’s pension, the visits from friends and allies and enemies—I was warm and grateful to the Mashewes and Baroness Jasmina; coldly civil to that ass Zamon, whose commiseration fell little short of gloating; brave and dignified to Corone and his friend Edmonds; grieved but composed with Faren and Yolanda. Like a creature of a thousand faces, I sometimes thought in exhausted moments: not at all a proper Ascalonian hero, more Anise than Deborah—but it was the only way I knew to be strong.
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1) Ascalonian first: the PC from the first game was a resident of the human kingdom of Ascalon when the Charr, a species of giant cat people who lived in Ascalon a thousand years earlier, orchestrated a massive magical attack that killed thousands of Ascalonian civilians and devastated the landscape. Surviving Ascalonians were afterwards mostly killed or enslaved, except a few groups that escaped. The king then went mad and turned himself and the last survivors into vengeful ghosts.
2) and Krytan second: in GW1, the PC helps Prince Rurik of Ascalon lead a group of Ascalonian refugees into the neighbouring kingdom of Kryta. Some Ascalonians establish a settlement there while others live in the cities; generations later, this has resulted in a minority population of Krytan Ascalonians within broader Krytan culture, which the GW2 PC can belong to (though it has no impact on gameplay, which is what inspired the fic). In-game, Ascalonians are fiercely proud of their heritage.
3) Rurikton refugees: Rurikton, named after the Rurik in #2 (who was killed in the journey to Kryta), is the Ascalonian district of the Krytan capital, Divinity’s Reach.
4) Ebonhawke: a stronghold in the furthest reaches Ascalon built by elite Ascalonian soldiers and the civilians they fought to protect. It fell just outside of the king’s curse and has managed to survive the onslaughts of the Charr for 250 years.
5) I was born there [Ebonhawke]: there is no evidence for the PC being born outside Divinity's Reach, so this is probably one of the creakiest elements as far as canon goes. DR is canonically the PC’s home, and they strongly suggest they’ve never seen anything else. I made her very young when she arrived to finagle it, but it’s mostly there because I’m interested in the dynamic between Ebonhawke Ascalonians and Kryta Ascalonians, so I wanted to give her a foot in both worlds. 
6) Minister Caudecus: a deeply corrupt Krytan minister who shows up in various storylines.
7) my aunt Elwin: Elwin Fairchild is a noblewoman of Ebonhawke in the game, a proud Ascalonian ambivalent over Krytan involvement in Ebonhawke’s affairs.
8) Rurikton gate: Asura gates are magic/technological portals created by a species of small, floppy-eared, ethically questionable scientists and researchers. They have a gate in Rurikton that will instantly transport you to the one in Ebonhawke, but it seems that it’s only recently been permanently fixed on Ebonhawke.
9) Lion’s Arch: the former capital of Kryta; after a cataclysm caused by giant eldritch dragons, the original Lion’s Arch was sunk and the city rebuilt into an independent city-state, while Divinity’s Reach became the new capital.
10) The Black Citadel: the capital of Charr-controlled Ascalon, built on top of the former human capital (and human remains, according to one Charr).
11) turned herself over to the Vanguard: the Ebon Vanguard defends and seems to largely control Ebonhawke.
12) five-year-old Deborah: we don’t know the exact age gap between Deborah and the PC, but Deborah seems to be older. 
13) the Salma District: the PC will always live in Salma, regardless of origin, even though the city has sharp class and ethnic divisions and you can belong to one of the minority populations.
14) Duke Barradin himself: Duke Barradin was the heir to the previous royal family in GW1, but loyal to the elected king, Adelbern. His daughter was engaged to Adelbern’s son Rurik, but both were killed, so he has no direct descendants. However, the PC’s friend Faren is explicitly descended from royalty, the noble PC is implied to be so, and the Duke of Ebonhawke is descended from Ascalonian kings in particular, so it seems likely that their progenitor was some relation of Barradin’s.
15) only a Langmar: Captain Langmar led the elite Ascalonian soldiers that ultimately founded Ebonhawke, though she died in the process. There’s no sign that she had anything like an aristocratic background, but we’re told that class hierarchy in Rurikton is rooted in descent from Searing-era heroes, as Langmar was.
16) mixed heritage: GW2 Ascalonians, especially in Kryta, are a lot less homogeneous than in GW1. We see NPCs of all sorts of RL ethnicities identifying as Ascalonian or strongly implied to be Ascalonian. OTOH, Ebonhawke Ascalonians are implied to regard Krytan Ascalonians as "less" Ascalonian than they are, and there's a remark about Logan Thackeray’s beige heartthrob status being partly because he’s pure Ascalonian. The NPC I appropriated as their mother is a minister with default Krytan design, but who is talking with a Krytan who tells her to get over the Searing.
17) safe from the politicking and corruption of the Ministry: per #13, Salma is canonically the PC’s home and I’m stretching canon. The game is pretty emphatic that Ascalonians live in Rurikton or the Ascalon Settlement, and since there are nobles and mansions in Rurikton, it can’t even be a matter of “but the noble ones are up on Manor Hill.” The real explanation is that the choice of ethnicity is purely cosmetic and not considered any further, but that’s boring, and we’re never told that the PC has always lived in Salma.
18) Yolanda, Corone, and Faren: Faren is a shallow flibbertigibbet, but he seems to genuinely care for the PC; Yolanda and Corone are two of the friendliest guests at the party he throws for you.
19) the Seraph: the Seraph are a cross between soldiers and police in Kryta, principally involved in fighting off centaur and bandit attacks.
20) Captain Thackeray: Logan Thackeray, the Seraph commander of Divinity’s Reach and ultimate mentor/friend to the PC. He’s the descendant of Gwen Thackeray from GW1/GW: Eye of the North, who was the BEST CHARACTER IN GUILD WARS enslaved by the Charr as a child, but escaped to fight them for the rest of her life between succeeding Captain Langmar, finding love, and establishing Ebonhawke. She’s an iconic hero to Ascalonians.
21) Ascalon was ravaged by the Foefire: you don’t get a chance to correct the Salma Guide, but otherwise these are his exact words. The Foefire was the mad king Adelbern’s final curse that turned him and the last survivors into ghosts; the game tends to emphasize this rather than the Searing + brutal invasion that led to it. (It’s particularly glaring in this case, as you personally see Ascalon ravaged by the Searing in GW1 and spend a good deal of time fighting there, years before the Foefire.)
22) Minister Ailoda Langmar: the Krytan-Ascalonian minister I mentioned above is simply "Minister Ailoda," with no other name given. There's no sign of any connection to the PC, but eh, game mechanics.
23) the Mashewes...Jasmina...that ass Zamon...Corone and his friend Edmonds: Lady Mashewe is a pleasant acquaintance who says her mother prayed for the PC; Jasmina's a noblewoman avoiding Faren; Zamon and the PC insult each other; Edmonds talks to the PC with Corone.
24) Anise: Anise is the charming, enigmatic, and powerful mesmer leader of the queen’s personal guard, the Shining Blade.
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TWO
1 My sister’s gravestone read: Deborah Fairchild Daughter of Kryta and Ascalon Died serving her country with honour, faith, and courage. No body rested beneath the stone; neither the Seraph nor Mother’s Ministry guards ever managed to recover the missing corpses. I never saw a ghost, never heard the merest whisper of her spirit. The grave was the nearest approximation we had, but I often felt drawn to it, dry-eyed and somber. A day rarely passed when I spoke her name, and a day rarely passed when I did not think of her, memories jumbled up with horror at what that missing body must mean. When Debs joined the Seraph, she spoke of Logan Thackeray, of Ebonhawke, of the ancestral heroes whose names brought us respect and luxury—not of Mother, Aunt Elwin, certainly not me. Yet I could not help feeling that somehow, had I done something different, been someone different, she would never have left us. 2 For a year, I played my part in what increasingly seemed a theatre of grief: three months’ withdrawal into mourning, gradual emergence into a solemn, reserved public life over the next six months, and another quarter-year to return to my old habits of gaiety and grudges—yet little altered for me, at court or during my weekly vigils at the grave. Not, at least, until one of the latter was interrupted by a familiar voice, saying: “Indulgence doesn’t suit you, darling.” “Anise?” I exclaimed, too surprised for offence; Countess Anise was a longtime friend of our family—only the Six knew how long—but I rarely saw her away from court, much less in the guarded seclusion of the Langmar cemetery. “All those faces of yours,” said Anise, her drawl indistinguishable from every other time I’d heard her, “and you’re squandering them on self-pity and an empty coffin.” “She wanted to be a real Ascalonian,” I blurted out—I, who hadn’t confided in my mother or my aunt or my friends, and somehow I couldn’t help but babble on, “a hero fighting for her home and her cause, and now—now she’s just like them, a martyr and a defiled corpse somewhere—” “You’re getting hysterical,” Anise said, not unkindly, and added, “Is martyrdom what it means to be Ascalonian, now?” I’d always liked Anise, a clever lady mesmer like my namesake, but alive and undefeated; I respected her uncharted skills and enjoyed her inscrutable charm, but until that moment, I never realized: she was Ascalonian, too. 3 Teach me, I found myself begging Anise, though I myself didn’t quite know what I meant—maneuvering in the court, or chaos magic, or defending another person, or outwitting potential threats, or generating clones, or simply surviving in prosperity—perhaps I did not mean anything in particular. I couldn’t be Deborah, and in my heart I didn’t want to be Deborah, a soldier locked into hierarchies and orders and thrown into small doomed skirmishes. In any case, I hadn’t Deborah’s resilience, or Captain Thackeray’s unwavering loyalty, or his foremother Gwen’s relentless courage—but if I did not envision myself as equal to Anise, hers were footsteps I could see myself following, regardless of the particulars. Even as I pleaded with her, I expected little from a woman at once detached and preoccupied—and thought little of what had driven her to intercede in the first place. But Anise, taking the request on its face, smiled. “Chaos for a devotee of Kormir? Delightful—I’ll expect you at moonrise.” 4 My life reformed itself over that next year. Mother, relieved to see me interested in something of substance, readily relinquished me to Anise’s patronage; Anise herself proved an exacting but gracious mentor, dispensing advice, demands, criticism, and praise in equal measure; and my friends found me more and more myself. Small concerns crept back into my mind: the superiority of silk over velvet, Barradin wine over Eldvin ale, Gwen Thackeray over Queen Salma. Greater ones, of course, drew my attention as well: the downfall of the Meades, one of the oldest Ascalonian houses in Kryta, and consequent disappearance of our childhood friend Kasmeer Meade; the desperation of the war in my birthplace and heightened Krytan aid; the murder of an Ascalonian minister. I miss Debs every day, I wrote to my aunt, but I know I have to make something of my own life, in my own way. I’ve been thinking of returning to Ebonhawke to help, since Anise says I am ‘highly proficient’ as an aetherist. I haven’t left Divinity’s Reach in years, though, so before I try myself against the Charr, I’m planning on making my way around Queensdale—at least Shaemoor. 5 To the world, my story began the day I stepped through Dwayna’s Gate into Shaemoor. The world is wrong, of course; my life didn’t begin with centaurs clubbing a frightened man the instant that I set foot in Shaemoor, with stalls and cottages roaring into flame, with a boy as blond as Debs huddled in a corner, with the blood and brains and screams of that day. It didn’t begin with the barely-heard orders from Corporal Beirne—with the indistinct impulse that had me running forward rather than back, urging strangers towards the inn, catching the boy up in my arms, consoling a woman over the slaughter of her dog as I dragged her with my free hand—with the furious spells tumbling from my mouth, focused through the weak wooden sceptre in my hand. I was someone before I became the hero of Shaemoor. I was myself, with my own history, my own concerns, my own people … the man, that man slaughtered before my eyes, was Ascalonian, and the boy too. If they had not been, perhaps the instinct of the moment would not have flung me into the horror as if I’d been tempered by the Searing, instead of sheltered in Divinity’s Reach. Or perhaps it ran deeper than that, and I would have turned onto that path had the man been Zamon, or an Asura, or even a Charr—but still, it was the turn, not the beginning. 6 Something did begin at Shaemoor, however: my association with Logan Thackeray. I’d met him before, socially, but only just—and in perfect honesty, knew him more as the butt of Anise’s wit than anything else. But I respected him from what I’d heard of his service to Divinity’s Reach, and for his determination to follow his ancestress’s footsteps and not just her name. In the midst of all that panic and death, it seemed only natural to rush to his aid when I heard that he was being overwhelmed. I had no sword, like Logan, or Deborah; I struck from among magical decoys, twisting chaos about our enemies from each direction—but it was something, and an hour from leaving the city for the first time, I was at Logan’s side, blasting aether at a massive earth elemental and the many smaller ones. He didn’t know me from Kormir, or at least from Kasmeer, but I knew we were a Langmar and a Thackeray again, thrown into another desperate fight, and there were worse ways to die. But we didn’t die; we lived and we triumphed, and by the time that I awoke in the care of a priestess of Dwayna, every Seraph from Logan on down knew who I was. 7 All my life, I had been Minister Ailoda’s other girl or the lady Elwin’s niece or Sergeant Fairchild’s sister or a Langmar, you know, on the mother’s side—or, now and then, merely my lady. I rarely heard my own name outside my little circle of Ascalonian nobles. I also rarely heard it in the immediate wake of Shaemoor. But now I wasn’t a satellite about greater relations, extensions of my mother or aunt or sister or heroic ancestors. I was the hero, myself, even as I wandered about Shaemoor in a daze. I didn’t do much: fought off little wyrms and harpies, found missing herds, gathered apples. Yet there was no my lady there, much less So-and-so’s relation: only the hero of Shaemoor.
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1) clever lady mesmer like my namesake: the PC's name isn't explicitly stated in this section, but those familiar with the original Guild Wars: Prophecies can probably figure it out from this reference.
2) Chaos for a devotee of Kormir?: all human characters choose a patron god/goddess, and the choice of god and the choice of profession are completely independent. But Kormir, goddess of order and truth, is a rather odd choice for a chaos magic-using mesmer.
3) the murder of an Ascalonian minister: Minister Brios, the representative for the Ascalonian Settlement, is poisoned in Divinity's Reach before a meeting with Anise. There are very few Ascalonian ministers, so the murder of one of them seems likely to be particularly troubling to Ascalonians.
4) before I try myself against the Charr: you can get to Ebonhawke straight from the starting zone of Divinity’s Reach, but Ebonhawke is in a level 30+ zone. 
5) a boy as blond as Debs: Deborah will be blonde if you choose to be Ascalonian.
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THREE 1 These days, I knew better than to let myself get consumed by grief. Still, as I flung spells at spiders, giant worms, bandits, centaurs, anything, I couldn’t help but wish that Deborah could see me now. At the garrison, I snatched up a rusty sword and poured magic through it with every swing at a centaur; what would she think? Me, fighting with a sword? Maybe not the way she or the other Seraph did, but still! She wouldn’t believe it. She’d be proud, I thought—wouldn’t she? 2 I’d barely passed beyond Shaemoor when I heard from Faren: positively hasty, for him. His pet raven delivered a gushing note that, in the space of a few sentences, managed to tease me about my injuries, urge me to talk him up to my healer, and summon me to a party—at my own house. I could only laugh; ridiculous as he often was, I loved him dearly, and always had. Even as children, we’d been friends and companions, but after Kasmeer vanished and Deborah died, we found ourselves inseparable. We were among the last of that quiet, secure little Ascalonian world in which we’d grown up at Rurikton—certainly the closest. Deborah’s death had changed me, driven me beyond the walls of Rurikton and Manor Hill, beyond letters and parties and court gossip. But I remained Faren’s friend, as I would always be. 3 Many people, I think, assumed Faren and I were lovers; in fact, to our own bemusement, nothing could be further from the truth. When we were seventeen, he said, “I don’t understand it. You’re pretty—I’m gorgeous—but I really think I’d throw up.” I might have been offended had I not felt exactly the same. “Inbreeding, I expect,” I told him. Faren brightened. “Grandmama was a Fairchild.” 4 Faren waited ahead of the party—a sacrifice, in the world of Faren—to greet me with his most grandiose bow. “The hero of Shaemoor returns!” I shook my head, but I grinned despite myself. It turned out that my servants had gleefully conspired with him, and when I entered the courtyard, I found it full of strangers and friends alike, along with food, gossip, and a wizard. I’d enjoyed exploring Queensdale, pushing myself to further and further limits; it was good to know that I could enjoy simpler pleasures, too, although it didn’t extend to the dog fights and bear baiting that a cousin of Faren’s called for. “Not in my home,” I snapped, “and if you want to stay, don’t mention that again.” When I heard someone say my name, I seized the chance to turn away—only to find myself facing my mother’s most hated rival. 5 “Minister Zamon.” “You’ve done well for yourself,” Zamon said acidly. “All it takes for a noble to be a hero is a bit of swordplay, a few bottles of cheap brandy, and an inflated sense of self-importance.” He had said much the same of Deborah’s swift rise among the Seraph; she’d never responded, holding herself above partisan squabbles. “Then you’re almost a hero already, my lord,” I replied, smiling. “All you lack is the brandy and swordplay.” I was not Deborah. 6 Even my old friends seemed to see the hero of Shaemoor more than anything else. Corone, brought up with Faren and Kasmeer and me, and now a respected warrior, regarded me as if he’d never seen me before, and said he’d be honoured to fight beside me. Yolanda hailed me as a heroine—before chiding me for associating so much with Faren, “that rascal!” In his imagination, maybe. Fending off her interrogation about Logan Thackeray, I’d never been happier to see Faren bounce towards me. And the moment that I muttered something about being tired, he assured me that he was done with the party as well, and headed off to make our excuses to the servants. I was ignoring Yolanda’s meaningful stare when I heard him scream. 7 Corone got his wish sooner than either of us could have imagined. We easily trounced the bandits who swept into the party, but it didn’t matter: Faren was already gone. With Corone and Edmonds protecting the guests, I ran out of Manor Hill and into the district plaza, desperately trying to catch any sign of Faren, or even the bandits; they’d have to have some way to recognize each other, wouldn’t they? But there was nothing, just ordinary people carrying on with ordinary business, merchants calling out sales, the old tour guide talking to a woman with a red handkerchief about her neck … with that over her mouth, she’d look just like the bandits who had abducted Faren— “Madam?” said someone near us, and then “ma'am!” as I blasted the bandit with a bolt of aether. I fought at least half a dozen across the district, tracking them one by one to a house at the opposite end of Salma. At the sight of me, bandits poured out of the house, but I didn’t care: they’d learn what it meant to cross a daughter of Ascalon.
FOUR
1 After Shaemoor, the bandits were nothing. They kept jumping out of their safehouse one by one—idiocy—and flailed at my clones, even their supposed leader. “Soon, you’ll beg me for death!” he shouted. I laughed, and blew up the clones. He went down like a basket of eggs. But I never laughed for long. I’d yet to see Faren, and images of bandits beating him, tormenting him, cutting his throat, flickered before me, each as vivid as every spell I cast. 2 Inside the bandits’ safehouse, I raced upstairs, barely wasting attention on the few guards left inside. Fear and victory kept my blood rushing fast: I didn’t even think about Anise’s lessons, but my feet landed exactly as she’d taught me, my body slipped away from each attack, and every spell hit its mark. Beyond them, I could just see Faren. He seemed alive, thank the gods, but stretched out in magical chains that turned my anger and fear to raw fury. I fought through a haze of rage, but one that illuminated rather than blinded—everything seemed crisp and bright and clear, more than ever before. When the last of them collapsed, I scrambled the rest of the way up the stairs, and tried to clear my head. “Um,” said Faren, “a little help here?” 3 When I broke the chains, relief flooding through me, he gave a hoarse laugh. “Am I pleased to see you!” he exclaimed, then grinned and added, “though if you wanted me to leave the party, a simple ‘Begone, freeloader!’ would have sufficed.” Captivity or no, Faren clearly remained Faren. “I’ll make a note of that,” I said dryly, and asked after any information he might have picked up on what the devil was going on. But he knew only that they operated out of a house in Shaemoor, where they’d meant to lock him up, and that in recent months, they’d turned more brazen, bloodthirsty, and focused on rebellion against the crown. “I can't save you and leave the others to rot,” I decided, and managed to smile at him. “Bad form, you know.” 4 Faren, looking determined (for him), said, “Count me in—I may not be a centaur-killing berserker like you, but I can take care of myself.” I’d believe that when I saw it. On the way to the bandits' den, I said, “Glad to have you with me, but do me a favour? Stay close”—I poked him with my sceptre—“and that way, we can protect each other.” Faren shrugged that off, which didn’t comfort me, but he actually managed himself well enough; he didn’t even get blood on his clothes as we fought our way into the concealed and guarded caves, nor when we rescued all the prisoners caged inside, so it counted as a success as far as he was concerned. “If you know any fair maidens, be sure to tell them who rescued you,” he said, and added with a grin, “the dashing Lord Faren … and his friend!” 5 The mission did count as a success for me, too; one of the captives had filched papers about a plot in Divinity’s Reach. We escorted him and the others out, taking down the remaining bandits with impatience (me) and glee (Faren). “We showed them what Ascalonians are made of!” he said triumphantly, and I straightened right up. “That’s right.” When Logan Thackeray arrived to help, Faren swaggered up and said, “My friend and I defeated these delinquents with panache and aplomb; you're just in time to celebrate our victory.” “I’m … amazed,” said Captain Thackeray. I knew the feeling. 6 “Then again,” he said, favouring me with a respectful nod, “I should have known that the hero of Shaemoor wouldn’t let your kidnapping go unanswered.” I remembered Shaemoor, fighting alongside Captain Thackeray with my stick of a sceptre just like Gwen and Langmar once had, all those years ago, and tried not to think too much of it; we’d barely met, outside of a few social occasions he clearly didn’t remember. But I also thought of Faren struggling in his chains, and danger spreading to the home that was supposed to keep us safe, and that we were all Ascalonians together. “No one hurts my friends without answering to me,” I said firmly. I handed over the papers we’d acquired, but to my surprise, it was Faren(!) who proved most useful; he noticed the quality of the paper, and even knew of the papermaker I could track down to identify it. I promised, “I'll get the information you need, without anyone realizing the Seraph are aware of the traitor in the city.” “Be careful,” said Captain Thackeray. 7 Although he warned me, I didn’t realize so many skale existed in the world as I wiped out on that trip—luckily, I found a new sceptre on the way, so I managed to keep them at a distance, and my clothes remained as pristine as Faren’s. When I arrived, I found the paper maker he’d mentioned; Fursarai was a small, prissy man, an impression not helped by his quite beautiful waistcoat, but it didn’t stop him from shouting at a departing Norn about getting his supplies back to the city. “You there—you look like you can handle yourself in a fight!” he announced, gaze fixed on something in my direction; I glanced over my shoulder, but none of the Seraph seemed to be behind me, nor anyone else. He gabbled something about the garrison and cowardly guards at the empty air—unless—unless "you there" was supposed to mean me? What a boor: but unfortunately, a boor who could direct me to Faren’s attackers. Friendship had its sacrifices. I looked at my silk sleeves, and sighed. FIVE 1 “What do you cost?” Cin Fursarai demanded, and now I preferred to believe he wanted a replacement for that Norn. It was flattering, I suppose, that he looked at me—a young noblewoman in silk, wool, and fine leather, carrying only a sceptre and a small sword—and thought I looked like someone who could fight. “I’m not a mercenary,” I said, and added: “I'm here to ask for help identifying the craftsmanship of a piece of handmade paper.” Fursarai sniffed. “If you found quality paper in Divinity’s Reach, I can assure you, I made it.” By sheer force of will, I didn’t roll my eyes—I had a conspiracy to unearth, never mind how irritating this little prig was—and instead requested his help, only for him to sniff again and go on about how he had no loyalty to the crown, because he happened to live in Lion’s Arch. He had red hair and dressed in high Rurikton fashion; he had to be Ascalonian, descendant of refugees saved by Kryta’s rulers, yet—yet— 2 It didn’t matter. It didn’t, not right now—and anyway, our fashions had spread far and wide, Lion’s Arch had long ago drowned its history, and true Ascalonian identity meant more than ancestry, whatever they might say in Rurikton. Deborah had taught me that much; if he didn’t care about it, then I wouldn’t, either. Easier said than done, though. “I need this information as soon as possible,” I told him. “But why should I trust you?” he retorted. “Who are you, anyway?” 3 I lifted my chin, and for all I might tell myself, I felt as if the pride of generations clustered about me, even with my foremothers’ spirits hopefully at peace in the Hall of Echoes. I had not forgotten what I came from. All those Langmars, the children and children’s children of Gwen Thackeray’s great captain. The Krytans they’d married now and then, abandoning an easy heritage to transplant themselves into Rurikton, absorbed into Ascalonian life and identity. The Fairchilds in Ebonhawke, kin of the last kings, of the duke who still haunted Ascalon and his martyred daughter. They’d fought a long defeat, on and on, yet managed to keep a last corner of human Ascalon alive; my aunt still worked to keep Ebonhawke standing while this man sneered over paper. “I am Lady Althea Fairchild of Divinity’s Reach and Ebonhawke,” I said. 4 Fursarai eyed me suspiciously. “Well, which one?” Despite myself, my defiance flickered. I would always be Ascalonian above all else, yet I would always serve the queen, too, and set myself against the enemies of Kryta. I belonged to Ebonhawke, my father’s land, my birthplace and my pride; I belonged to Divinity’s Reach, the only home I knew, where my mother’s people had lived and fought for generations. Anise always called me a creature of two faces, and I supposed I was. “I don’t know,” I admitted. 5 He grunted. “Explains why you don’t stink like the rest, anyway.” “Thank you,” I replied dryly. After a minute of meditation (not helped by Fursarai’s string of complaints), we headed out. I was just about ready to kill him myself by the time we got to the Shaemoor garrison; he’d have easily died without me fighting skale and centaurs and one exceptionally large spider by sceptre and sword, but he made not the slightest attempt to defend himself, just cowering against his bull and yelping the entire way there. That was before I had to take down three centaur catapults and Lyssa knew how many centaurs, with maybe two Seraph backing me up. Naturally, his gratitude upon entering the garrison amounted to checking his supplies three times, turning to me, and pronouncing: “I feel like I was run over by a herd of marauding dolyaks!” 6 Irritation aside, he did supply the information I needed, admitting that he sold his paper to Minister Zamon. Zamon, the man who’d all but gloated at my mother when Deborah died, purely—I thought then—because of malice at the suffering of a rival. And then, not long ago: the man who’d sneered at my defense of Shaemoor. “He has excellent taste,” Fursarai said, his glance clearly implying that I didn’t. As if he’d know. I silently decided that I’d never buy anything from him, even if I had to go to Lion’s Arch myself to find another papermaker. I smiled and said, “Don’t leave Divinity’s Reach.” 7 I found Captain Thackeray in the Seraph Headquarters, deep in a discussion with Anise, of all people, but his head snapped up when he caught sight of me. “Do you have any news?” “Fursarai admitted he made the paper for Minister Zamon,” I said, suppressing any signs of satisfaction. Well, mostly; Anise cast an amused look in my direction. “Setting up citizens to be robbed and brutalized?” exclaimed Captain Thackeray. “That's out-and-out treason.” Why, so it was.
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1) The Fairchilds in Ebonhawke, kin of ... the duke who still haunted Ascalon and his martyred daughter: i.e., Duke Barradin, while his daughter, Lady Althea—this Althea’s namesake—was burned alive by the Charr.
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SIX 1 “But where are my manners?” said Captain Thackeray, whom I’d never seen with so much as a wrinkle in his surcoat or a hair out of place. “Allow me to introduce you to Countess Anise, Master Exemplar of the Shining Blade.” Bemused, I nodded at my mentor of years, while Anise bowed with a faint, ironic smile. Disregarding the matter of manners, she said smoothly, “Minister Wi’s hosting a party tonight; it’ll be a good opportunity to eavesdrop on ministers, their allies, and enemies.” Captain Thackeray couldn’t quite bring himself to disagree, but clearly wanted to; he proposed a (perfectly legal) raid on Zamon’s house instead, and worse still, left the choice to me, insisting that he couldn’t give me orders—even though he clearly had no idea who I was. In fact, I wasn’t even sure he’d realized I had a name. 2 Naturally, I consulted with Anise—Thackeray or no Thackeray, she was my guide and teacher. “Personally,” she said in her light voice, “I prefer convivial, face-to-face situations. Then again, cloak-and-dagger skulduggery is always fun.” I laughed. “The way you describe it, it all sounds so charming; I’ll have to think it over.” I didn’t, actually. Minister Wi lived in Rurikton, and Faren was my best friend; if I knew anything, it was Rurikton parties. 3 “Minister Wi’s party,” I announced. “I’ll see what I can learn.” “Are you sure?” said Captain Thackeray, though with a distinct note of resignation. “You can’t break into Zamon’s place if you attend Minister Wi’s party.” “I’m sure,” I told him. “Minister Wi’s party it is.” He sighed. 4 “Your fellow nobles seem to have a knack for making my life interesting,” Captain Thackeray told me, clearly putting the best face on it. “Let’s see if we can’t return the favour.” “We nobles, Captain Thackeray?” I said, amused; everyone knew about his relationship to Gwen—and his relationship to Queen Jennah, too. “A step down from royalty making your life interesting, I’m sure.” To my surprise, he flinched. Some lover’s spat, perhaps; I decided it was none of my business, and turned to Anise, who promised to meet me at the party—because it wouldn’t do to make us share the spotlight during our entrance. Of course. 5 I listened to a few complaints and registered some unsolved crimes after Anise left, then headed out. At least, I meant to, but on my way to the door out of Seraph Headquarters, I caught sight of an open book—a register. “That lists the names of all Seraph soldiers for the last two decades,” an officer told me proudly. I glanced over my shoulder, undoubtedly looking as suspect as a priest of Grenth on Wintersday, but nobody seemed to be paying attention; the officer had drifted over to settle a dispute over a farm, Captain Thackeray was talking to a lieutenant, and everybody else looked up to their ears in work. I opened the book, scolding myself for being foolish, giving into a pointless sentimentality that would achieve nothing, recover no corpse for a grave—but still, I turned the pages, searching for the name I would know. I felt like a spy, flipping through pages, for all that the registry was open to the public and I had every right to look—and then, there it was, near the head of its page. Sgt Deborah Fairchild; missing in action, assumed dead. 6 “Are you looking for someone?” said Captain Thackeray. I nearly jumped straight into the air; as it was, I flinched as violently as he had. “No, sir,” I said, and realized—Debs would have said no, sir in the exact same tone, would have stood in this very room as I did now, would know it all better than I did. What would she have thought, if she’d known that one day I would be investigating crimes for the Seraph, reporting to Captain Thackeray himself? She’d never pressed me to be anything I wasn’t, never seemed to love me less for being the thoughtless, frivolous creature I was then, but I couldn’t help but imagine she’d have been proud. Imagine how this whole thing might have gone if she’d been alive—maybe we’d be investigating Zamon together, or— “Good luck, Captain Thackeray,” I said, and walked out. 7 By happy coincidence, I already had an invitation, of sorts. My mother’s said Minister Ailoda Langmar and one other. “You want to go?” said Mother, looking startled. “I would have thought you’d be busy slaying monsters or saving people or whatever else you do these days.” I frowned, unsure how to take this; it might have been pride, if not for her studiously neutral tone—did she think all this unimportant, or regrettable, or beneath us? Or was it fear, with Deborah dead on Seraph business? For a wild moment, I longed to tell her, cling to her and admit that I was frightened and angry as well as resolved, to confide in someone who would always see Althea first and the hero of Shaemoor second. “I need to keep an eye on Faren,” I said.
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1) his relationship to Queen Jennah: Jennah is the Queen of Kryta, and a beautiful young woman; it’s widely rumoured that she and Logan are having an affair. The last time royalty made his life especially interesting was when he deserted his dragon-hunting guild, Destiny's Edge, out of love for Jennah. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------    SEVEN 1 I headed back to Rurikton for the party, though a good while before it was set to begin. I hadn’t been home for a while—months, though it felt like longer—and I wanted to get my bearings. I strolled past the familiar stone gryphons, a light calm settling over me. It deepened as I made my way down the streets, passing refugees and servants who gave slight bows: respectful, no more. Clusters of nobles nodded familiarly at me. I stopped by local traders, most of whom I knew by name. One bookseller had a pair of rare books on Ascalonian history, one of which I’d wanted for ages; I purchased them on the spot, and after these weeks of fighting and investigating and rescuing, it was a pleasure to let it all slide for a moment, and decide that today was already a success. 2 I personally carried my books to Langmar Manor, since I’d forgotten to bring any servants, and didn’t feel very much inclined to send for one now. Oddly enough, I had gotten used to managing on my own. The walk from the district square was a short and easy one in any case; I strolled down the streets, encountering nothing worse than a few seditious posters I tore down, and a man complaining about Captain Thackeray to an unsympathetic friend. “You know, just because your wife’s taken a shine to Logan Thackeray doesn’t make him a bad guy—he’s cursed.” At the first man’s scoff, the friend added, “Cursed with good looks and true Ascalonian blood! It’s not his fault that every woman fawns over him.” Not every woman, I thought. 3 The people of Rurikton had always mingled at the Maiden’s Whisper as well as Rurikton at large, so I attracted no particular curiosity when I strolled into the tavern. Several other lords and ladies stood near the entrance, smiling and lifting their glasses towards me as I passed, while everyone else simply continued their own conversations—despite the Norn inexplicably towering at the side of the room. “I like that Minister Caudecus,” one girl announced. “To Queen Jennah!” someone just out of sight said, echoed by a dozen toasts to the queen, Divinity’s Reach, Captain Thackeray, and assorted ministers. Across the hall, a man bellowed drunkenly, “Show me a woman who can wrestle a bear, and I’ll show you a keeper!” “If the Charr think they can come here,” said a woman, her voice clear and pleasant, “me and my meat cleaver will tell them otherwise.” I smiled; despite everything, it really was good to be home. 4 I spent the last few hours before the party skulking around Rurikton, but found nothing beyond a particularly incompetent group of adventurers and ordinary conversation on the street. Returning to the inn, I searched for a relatively secluded place, found it in a library, and closed my eyes, peering through those of a near-invisible clone as she drifted through Minister Wi’s manor. She wasn’t caught, but turned up nothing except preparations for the party. I was sure there had to be something we’d missed, but apparently not. Well, Zamon might be acting in secrecy. Might. I resigned myself to the inevitable: I would only discover what I needed to know at the party, and I would have no preparation beyond what I already knew. 5 When I arrived at the manor in person, the place was positively oozing Ministry guards, for no particular reason. Anise slanted them a glance that betrayed nothing, then eyed my finery with nearly smug approval. “This will be delightful,” she said, apparently no more inclined than usual to bother with such minutia as greetings and farewells. “Having the hero of Shaemoor on my arm will make tongues wag.” Even though it was just Anise, I flushed. So much for separate entrances—but it was like Anise to enjoy disrupting plans, even her own. “Thank you for letting me join you this evening, Countess,” I said, because it was like me, too. 6 “Mingle,” she said. “Speak to everyone—you never know who’ll say something they regret later.” It was an encouraging thought. “Second,” said Anise, “don’t limit your conversation to nobility; servants and guards see everything.” “Understood,” I replied, adding, “I suppose it goes without saying that I should be discreet?” “You catch on fast,” she told me, and touched her finger to the end of my nose, eliciting a startled laugh. “Go and charm the masses.” 7 “You know where to find me if you need me, pet,” Anise concluded, while I still tried to wrap my mind and dignity around the fact that she’d bopped my nose. But at the moment, I found her at my side, setting my hand on her arm and marching forward in her tall boots. She actually smiled when I matched my steps to hers, even if I could hardly match the total assurance of her stride and her drawl—but she smiled more at the sudden hush that fell over the grand room when we entered. “The Countess Anise,” the servant at the door announced, and after a suitably dramatic pause, continued, “and the hero of Shaemoor!” Virtually everyone in this room had known me from childhood, but they all bowed anyway, as if my mother herself stood in my place, rather than the other way around; she’d abruptly developed a cold when she heard Zamon would be there. Zamon himself was nowhere to be seen. Interesting.
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1) Cursed with good looks and true Ascalonian blood: this (and much of the dialogue here) is part of the ambient dialogue near the inn. 
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cartooniste2z · 5 years
Text
First Meeting
The Magical and sometimes mysterious lands of Mewni, despite being right next to the Forest of the Certain Death were, at the eye of the common folks, “not that bad”......
  Or at least, that would be the answer of the Common Folk living outside the limits of the City of Mewni.
  Although that with the help of King Marco and Queen Star new ideas and rules were constantly improving the lives of all Mewmans equally, that was the simple truth that nobody could overlook.
  It was plenty easier keep watch over one single city than over several dozens of little villages.
  Each village had to go against several issues at once, and not all of them could get help in time, so the people living on them had to either move away to another land more gentle, or prepare themselves and bite nature back
  All around the territory of Mewni, the skeletons of Villages and Towns of several sizes were either the demostration of the courage and adaptability that the Mewmans could show, and the last remains of the memories of the one that dare to live in such places
  But even the Skeletons of these places could tell little stories, mostly about the last enemy the inhabitants had to face before their fall. Some showed signs of Giant Mindless Monsters attacks, others the simple misfortune of the Weather or terrain, too hard or unpredictable to sustain a proper living place, while others did not mind to show the results of a bad choice to any soul that dare to come between them......
  Although for most of them—and in more recent times, showed the clear signs of a situation that the Mewmans had known for too long, and they knew would never change: ever since the War..... The War would never change.....
  Despite all the attempts, successes and failures of the Mewmans so far, there lies the region of Mewni that remained untouched by Mewmankind, without any kind of Village or Town nearby, not even skeletons, or rather not a single trace of them left anywhere to be seen.
  Far past any Mewman settlement, and outside most of the common folks limits, near the vast chain of mountains that have always stayed on the limits of the Mewni, there was a series of caves and tunnels that leads inside the mountains depths themselves, the tunnels were both big and small, separating and fusing in some ways, while in others only leading to dead ends in a severely confusing way, sometimes the tunnels had some kind of natural trap, that would make just about any explorer think twice before even considering to enter such a place.
  Yet in front of those same caves, something rather unexpected happened.
  A single person was making their way outside of the caves, humming to himself a seemingly calm song, as peacefully and normally as he was just taking a light walk, for most people, the simple idea of walking towards those territories was beyond anyone's imagination, yet this young man was walking out of those same caves with a carefree and even happy face.
-aaaaaah- sighed the young man, turning his face up to look at the sky with a small smile -well that was relaxing-
Still looking at the sky, the boy's smile become seemingly smaller, a gentle breeze make his blonde hair move slightly, his skin, while white it showed to be lightly tanned, probably thanks to continuous hours under the scorching sun, yet the more remarkable feature of himself were a half wing sign on each of his cheeks, a prove of his royal blood as a Butterfly.
His clothes, even if normal to most occasions most would wear a full suit of armor to such places, the boy was only wearing a shirt with long sleeves and stripes, brown pants along with normal looking shoes, if anything, he looked exactly like he was going to take a walk to a safe place, instead of the wildly dangerous domains of the Dragonkind.
The boy kept looking at the sky, that carefree smile that he had was already gone, instead, his deep blue eyes showed a mix of uncertainty and excitement, his gaze moved to the left, and then to the right as he started to move once again. He seemed to be admiring the view and the terrain, yet this was not the case, his gaze was not set on the rocks or trees nearby, instead they were fixed on “something” that was not there at all, and immersed all of his thoughts and problems.
The Royal family of the Kingdom of Mewni surely had many things to worry about, surely each possible problem was making a ruckus inside the boy's head….however, from the lowest of the common folk to the highest rank in the royalty should always remember a simple, yet incredible important rule.
-Huh? Wow wow wow—AAAH!-
…. To look where one is walking.
So deep was the boy in his thoughts, that he had not noticed the small border he was walking across, and on a simple slip, he fell, rolling on the ground until hit the ground, with the back to the ground, his gaze once again was fixed on the sky.
-great… just great, you are honestly a genius…- talking to himself, the boy wanted to stay there until the shame had slipped on a land that he knew better that his own hands disappeared, internally, he thanked the gods of Mewni that nobody was there to laugh at him
Unfortunately for him, that was not going to be the case for long.
-AAAAAHH!... Ouch….-
Another scream, coming from the opposite direction of where Hunter came from, filled the place, soon followed by the sound of a body rolling downhill and finally, a thud originated right next to him.
Moved both by curiosity and precaution, the boy stood up, looking to the person that have shared his same destiny, only to open his eyes on surprise.
A girl, surely not older than the boy himself, was with her back against the ground, her eyes shut due to the pain of the fall. Her skin was even paler than the boy, like the sun had never touch it, her brownish-blonde hair was fixed on curly twin tails, her white dress that was now covered with some dirt that reached down her knees. What called the boy attention was not that, instead, were the marks on the cheeks of the girl, two black lines on each cheek that started almost on the middle of her cheeks, going down and expanding slightly until reach the borders of her face.
-are you ok?- the boy asked carefully, dropping his guard in hopes of getting a better first impression.
-Huh?! Who…. Where… I… uh…- the girl did not take that into consideration as soon as the boy spoke. She stood up, her eyes wide and looking to both sides, with fear.
-hey, do not worry, I am not going to harm you- answered the boy, seating over, his knees met the ground as he tried to look make himself appear harmless.
The girl looked at him with suspicion. Then, after a tense moment, she dropped her guard and adopted the same posture of the boy.
-sorry- said the girl, shyly
-no need to be. You surprised me too- answered the boy with a sincere voice- are you hurt?
The girl shook her head.
-glad to hear that… also, why are you over here? Not a lot of people tend to come over here- the boy asked truthfully, innocent curiosity born of deep inside his heart.
-uh… well… i… it is… complicated- the answer of the girl confused the boy, but he could also notice the sadness in the girl's eyes.
-I am Hunter by the way- Hunter presented himself, smiling as confidently like he could- Hunter Butterfly.
The girl opened her eyes widely, looking at Hunter with surprise.
-you mean….?-
-yeah, yeah. my parents are King Marco and Queen Star, but do not worry, I am not an idiot like the rest of the nobility in Mewni, my mother make sure of that- Hunter answered quickly, though his mother's behavior was legendary, there was still people that believed that they would act just like the rest of the nobility in Mewni- and you are?
-…………..Lianna- Lianna's gaze slowly shifted to the ground- sorry, just… Lianna-
-Well Lianna, would you like to come to Mewni with me?-
-UH?!- if possible, the girl's eyes widened even more, looking at Hunter with a mix of pure shock—and for a mere moment, hope.
- I mean, I honestly get it if you do not want to tell me, but like a prideful knight of Mewni, I cannot leave a girl alone over here…. And I doubt that you would want to walk with a dirty dress- Hunter had once again smiled with confidence, and finally extended his hand towards Lianna- so?
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Lianna's hazel eyes look deeply on Hunter deep blue eyes, like she was expecting it to be some kind of cruel joke or scheme, yet in his eyes, she only found an innocent pride and will to help.
Slowly, Lianna extended her hand towards Hunter hand, until finally she take it.
And with that, their meeting was over. In the future, they would realize that their meeting led to shake the same foundation of Kingdoms and Empires alike, adventures, dangers, secrets and much more.
But for today, this was the simple and innocent meeting of a boy and a girl, their true destinies could wait for another day
~~~~~
by the amazing @ladyxgilex 💙 (and a touch of proofreading from myself ;3)
Straight out of each headcanon I've shared with you, you've done it! This was a great read and
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ty-talks-comics · 5 years
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Best of Marvel: Week of September 18th, 2019
Best of this Week: House of X #5 - Jonathan Hickman, Pepe Larraz, Marte Gracia and Clayton Cowles
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The X-Men have conquered their greatest enemy: Death.
After the events of the last issue, it was a wonder just how Hickman would write the X-Men out of the predicament that has stopped them so many times before. In the standard Hickman way, he made retcons that enhanced the usefulness of lesser characters and provided a way out that not only makes sense, but can be used for just about anything in regards to all of our favorite dead mutants.
Goldballs had one of the dumbest powers for the longest time; the ability to propel golden balls from his chest, but in this book we learn that these balls were actually non-viable eggs that, with the help of Proteus, could be made usable. After they’re injected with mutant DNA and given life by Elixir, Tempus ages the eggs to maturity and thanks to Hope’s powers, all of them operate at peak efficiency. This allows the mutants to effectively resurrect their dead friends as husks until Xavier implants mind engrams into the bodies with their past memories.
In House of X #1, one of the first things we see is Charles Xavier meeting the reborn forms of Scott Summers and Jean Grey as full adults after they emerge from egg sacs of some kind. Initially, I thought that this was just some sort of strange symbolic rebirth thing and while it still is, it has become far more literal and intriguing because of five mutants - Goldballs, Elixir, Hope Summers, Proteus and Tempus.
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Everything about this scene was immaculate and well done to a point where I almost want to cry. What coloring there was felt low and hushed, almost as if we were seeing something miraculous, the gift of light. Camera angles were mostly downwards, to capture the harmony of the group before they began their work. They stood silent and acted on instinct, indicating they'd done this before, showing us that they were absolutely sure of their process. 
Xavier leaning down, cradling his children and asking them to not die again as it kills a part of him every time that they do is heart wrenching, but joyous when he gives them their memories back. There's no hesitation, only love, only care. 
The gravity of the event as it happens and seeing someone like Goldballs become one of the most integral mutants in the revival of the mutant race brought me to an unknown level of joy. There was so much weight to their actions with the excellent narration by Magneto as to what exactly they were doing while talking to Polaris, making the point that when they are apart, they are still strong mutants, but together they are even more powerful than previously imagined. 
I’m almost certain they used the exact same pages from House of X #1 as we watch the resurrection of the dead team, but this time we have a whole new perspective of how we got there. In an absolutely beautiful celebration of life, we see the mutants of Krakoa praise the Five for bringing their mutant family back to life and a confirmation of those mutants by Storm. Under the purple leaves of a tree of Krakoa with a bit of sunlight shining through. Purple usually symbolizes nobility, passion and authenticity and with the use of dynamic angles and heroic posing, we can be absolutely sure that these are the same mutants.
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Angel, Husk, Mystique, Monet, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Cyclops and Jean Grey all died to ensure that the Mother Mold didn’t come online and destroy the mutant race. In two nine panel grids, Storm greets hew newly reborn friends, questioning how she knows that it’s truly them. After they give their answers from the somber to the cocky to the… Monet, Storm asks what they are and the crowd answers with one word: Mutant. 
This message also acts as a bit of foreshadowing for the end of the book and as the theme for this issue as a whole; the idea of togetherness, something that the human race has denied mutants for all of their existence. 
The level of solidarity among the mutants is inspiring, the love and pride they have in themselves in infections and makes me want to see them do nothing but succeed. However, I do have something of a concern with the level of reverence they seem to be getting. As they walk naked down the stairs to interact with their fellow mutants, the other mutants reach their hands out at them as the sun shines brightly behind them. They seem as saviors, messiahs, people standing above their fellows and that’s a potentially dangerous path for them to go down, especially since Krakoa is performing so well and don’t need egos to ruin it.
On top of their resurrections, Xavier and Emma Frost are also trying to get the world's governments to accept Krakoa's pharmaceuticals and accept the Mutant Utopia as an independent nation. With a few notable exceptions from Russia, Latveria and Wakanda (among a few other countries that also would not accept Mutants or their cure alls) most of the world is very into the prospect of life giving drugs in exchange for giving mutants diplomatic immunity and recognition.
In many ways, this is the progress that they have always strived for. Some people aren't reticent to their acts of kindness out of ideological differences, but others see the benefit of siding with the new Nation as long as they can see the benefits. They may be alliances of necessity or fear, but the point still stands that their autonomy is being recognized. They're not being actively hunted, at least since Orchis was stopped from activating the Mother Mold and with their population in the cusp of becoming what it was in the past, they are flourishing and don't NEED human support, but they find it better that they receive it.
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With the world coming together for mutants, there's only one more group left to truly unite the houses: The Villains. In my opinion, most of House of X has been leading up to this, the day when even mutant villains will come in full support of Xavier's new mission to save the race and there are some nasty ones here: Mister Sinister, Lady Mastermind, Mesmero, Selene, Sebastian Shaw, Emplate, Exodus, Gorgon, Black Tom Cassidy and Azazel.
But these villains pale in comparison to the final arrival in Apocalypse. In more than one way, Apocalypse's dream has finally come to fruition as well. Mutants have risen above and finally become the dominant species that he always believed they could be. They have evolved past their petty and weak natures and embraced their strength in both numbers and power. With Krakoa welcoming him with some lovely birds, Apocalypse speaks on behalf of all of the evil mutants when he says that they will obey the laws of Krakoa as they are written and cements this new alliance with a handshake with Charles Xavier.
This blew my mind. Apocalypse's whole deal was that he would absolutely destroy the weakness in the mutant gene pool and was only able to do so with Charles Xavier dead in the Age of Apocalypse timeline. He tore the world asunder, but as we learned from one of Moira MacTaggert's past lives, even this would not have lasted. If Moira's been in contact with Apocalypse, then he too knows that following Xavier right now is the only true path to mutant evolution and supremacy.
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I have never been so elated, surprised and anticipating of a comic in so long. 
Pepe Larraz and Marte Gracia are a match made in heaven and this book has a cinematic quality through and through. Larraz allows the characters to appear overjoyed, happy and proud with beautiful facial expressions. With faraway shots and ever changing angles in the panels, there's such a grandeur in the story being told. The sun is always shining in this particular issue, much like it was in House of X #1, signaling a brand new day and bright future for mutantkind.
Gracia's colors are bright and vibrant, emanating with a hopeful glow. Their lighting effects are on JJ Abrams levels of shiny and somehow The Five characters stand out apart from the clothes that they used to wear. Tempus' blue pops out perfectly against Goldballs gold and black. The purple of the tree leaves in the Confirmation is absolutely beautiful and awe-inspiring and the darkness during Apocalypse's arrival set against the shining God rays is the perfect contrast.
I have never been more proud to be a fan of the X-Men. Knowing their history of death and rebirth, it's relieving to see that they now have the means to finally conquer their mortal enemy. There's so many that can be brought back to life (provided their deaths haven't already been retconned). John Proudstar, the original Thunderbird, Jamie Madrox, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Sean Cassidy, Blindfold and many others that either died so long ago or died at the hands of Matthew Rosenberg's Uncanny X-Men.
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House of X has gone above and beyond and rejuvenated a portion of the Marvel Universe that has been a chaotic mess for the better part of almost 20 years by this point. There's finally unity amongst all of the mutants in the Universe, from 90s villains to even recent ones from Brian Michael Bendis' run. 
Jonathan Hickman is proving that almost anything he touches turns to gold as he's crafted an amazing tale in only nine issues, counting Powers of X as well. I find myself, for the first time in a long time, not just going through the motions. I feel as though I'm witnessing a revolution occurring, an actual brand new era for some of my favorite super people. 
The series is set to conclude in about three weeks for X-Men #1 and I am already so very excited. Highest of recommends.
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What are we? Mutants.
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JUPITER’S CURSE
An original short story about a girl named Jupiter, the demigod Narcissus, and a little bit of ghost-like possession.
Genre: fantasy, sci-fi, comedy
Tags: greek gods, possession, alcohol, supernatural, enemies to friends (ish)
Rating: T for language
///
Jupiter stared into her glass. The bright lights in the club danced over her skin, turning it all sorts of colors. She felt wobbly. How much had she had to drink?
She stumbled when Maggie crashed into her, laughing.
“I’m twenty three!” She half yelled, half sang into her friends ear, “Nobody likes me! I’m having such a great time, Jupe! Dance with me!”
“Do you know how many drinks I’ve had?” She yelled back. She tried to keep her balance, but Maggie was dragging her towards the dance floor too fast. She spilled her drink. Her hand jerked wildly, clear liquid spilling onto the floor.
“Huh? I dunno, why?”
“I feel drunk,” she said, holding onto Maggie for support, “I have to go.”
“Woah, woah, woah, what, do you feel bad? Do you think somebody did something to your drink?”
“No, it’s not that. I can’t have more than a drink or two. I only had two, why do I feel so drunk?”
Maggie took the glass from her hand, sniffed it, took a sip. She made a face and coughed. “Ugh! Can’t you taste how strong this is? Did you drink the whole thing?”
Her heart dropped. “Is it really strong?”
“My throats still on fire.”
Shit. The bastard messed with her taste buds. Since when could he do that?
I’ve been hiding that trick for a while, said a smooth voice in her head, let me out!
Resisting the urge to clutch her head, she ran to the bathroom.
“I have to pee!” she yelled, hoping her friend wouldn’t follow her. Mercy of mercies, there wasn’t a line. She ducked in, latched the door, and clutched the bathroom sink, staring at her reflection.
Son of a bitch.
“You asshole,” she told her reflection, “You asshole!”
You know, botox doesn’t cost much. I’m not saying you need it but if it’s not broke, fix it before it is, right?
“God I hate you. I hate whatever it is I did that cursed me with you.”
She looked at the corners of her eyes in the mirror. She didn’t even have wrinkles.
Not yet, said the voice.
“I’m puking. Bye.”
The voice laughed. Too late for that! It’s already in your system, sweetheart. Don’t worry, i’m not gonna get a haircut like last time. I’m just gonna party and show Maggie what a good friend you are.
She couldn’t believe this. The sink jerked in her hands, and she gripped it tightly to avoid falling. She never should have ordered a drink. She should have—
“Oh calm down,” he said with her mouth. With her hand, he began to fix her lipstick. “You’ve been standing in the corner like a wallflower the whole time. Why do you think she dragged you out onto the dance floor? You were being a huge bore.”
Great. Now she was stuck inside her own mind, a prisoner for at least eight hours until either the  alcohol wore off or Narcissus got bored.
“Listen, it’s not exactly my idea of a fantastic time either. You think I want to be stuck inside the body of a twenty year old girl? I used to be gorgeous. And, to top it off, I can only come out when you’re drunk.”
Don’t even think of getting botox, or lip injections, or whatever! My face is fine, I like myself just the way I am.
“That’s a great outlook! And you should. I was only kidding about the botox anyway.”
Stop fixing my lipstick, it’s fine. You’re putting too much, my lips aren’t that big.
“It’s called over lining,” Narcissus said, finally capping the lipstick and slipping it inside her purse, “it’s supposed to make your lips more plump. You look great. I look great. Let’s party. Ooh, wait what’s this?”
Taking her hand out of the bag, Narcissus held her cellphone.
He looked in the mirror, met eyes of their reflection.
“Selfies!”
They spent a ridiculous amount of time taking selfies. Jupiter hated to admit it, but her lips really did look great. And for being a thousand year old demigod, Narcissus took amazing selfies.
At least she got a great profile pic out of tonight.
“See? I’m not that bad once you get to know me.” He said, opening the door. A girl rushed past them, and if Jupiter could, she would have blushed with embarrasment.
Jupiter scoffed. I don’t mind knowing you. I mind that I can’t control my body right now. Can’t you possess someone else?
Narcissus got another drink at the bar and paid for it. “If I could, believe me, I would. It’s only been a few weeks, give it some time. Dionysus’ curses usually last about three months anyway. I’ll be gone before you know it.”
Dionysus? You got cursed by Dionysus?
“Yeah,” he said, twirling a lock of hair around their finger, “Why else do you think this only happens when you’re drunk? He probably picked you because you never drink. If it weren't for your friend Maggie, I’d still be stuck in your head. I should thank her.”
Three months? They were stuck together for three whole months?
If Jupiter had control of her mouth, she would have cursed herself.
“Hey Jupe! Are you feeling better?” Maggie said, surprising them. Her birthday crown was askew, and they fixed it for her.
“I am! Now that i’m here. I mean, now that you’re here, birthday girl. Do you wanna dance?”
Maggie squealed, definitely tipsy, and led them to the dance floor.
Jupiter hated to admit it, but even stuck in her own mind, she had a good time. She could still see, hear, and feel everything that they did. And seeing her friend happy on her birthday made her happy.
See? Narcissus thought, I told you we’d show her a good time.
Yeah, Yeah, now hush. This is our favorite song.
Unfortunately for her, Narcissus kept drinking throughout the night. She wasn’t sure if it was because they were there, and he thought they might as well drink, or if he was trying to appease Dionysus somehow by consuming alcohol. Now that she knew he wasn’t thrilled by their predicament either, maybe he was doing all he could to undo it?
In the morning she woke up on Maggie’s bed, still in her party dress. She rose to get up and stopped, instantly regretting it when her head throbbed monstrously.
Sorry, that one’s my fault. They were good drinks.
“Ugh. They were.” she groaned.  
She tried again, tasting her own breath and wishing Narcissus had the foresight to brush their teeth before they passed out. She found her spare in the bathroom, and tried to be quiet while Maggie was still asleep.
“Look,” she said, toothpaste dripping from her mouth and falling in a foamy mess on the sink, “If we’re gonna be like this for another two months, we need some ground rules.”
Ugh, Narcissus said in her mind, rules are boring.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like that you’re scheming every night to get me drunk. So what about this,” she paused to rinse her mouth with water, and spat.
“Every Saturday, we can get drunk. You can come out, you can do what you want. But only one drink for you. I can’t keep waking up with headaches, I just can’t.”
Only every Saturday? That’s a whole week i’m stuck in here!
“Well I don’t like the idea of getting drunk every day! I’m the one that wakes up hungover, not you!”
Narcissus grumbled in her head. Okay, fine. But a week? That’s literally torture.
Jupiter crossed her arms, looking down at her reflection. “Take it or leave it. It’s either that, or you’re stuck in there for two months.”
Fine, it’s a deal. Every Saturday. But we’re getting drunk in the morning. That way, I get the whole day.
Jupiter didn’t like the idea of giving up her body for an entire 24 hours, but she supposed it was only fair. Narcissus would be stuck in her a whole week.
It was fair.
From the other side of the door, Jupiter could hear Maggie moving around.
“Jupe? Who are you talking to?”
“I’m calling the bank!” she lied quickly, “They have a phone tree.”
“Ugh, I hate those! Hey, let’s go get some breakfast. And some breakfast drinks.”
Hey, Jupe, Narcissus said, a smile in his voice. You have to. Because guess what day it is?
Jupiter groaned. She walked right into that one.
Today was Saturday.
------------------------------
Thanks for reading! If you liked the story, consider donating to my Patreon here, or checking out my blog for more short stories and poetry! You can also find me on Instagram here. 
Photo Credits:
1. Amazon
2. Narcissus (Caravaggio)
3. neonteenscult on tumblr
4. Imgur
5. Maybelline, Via google
6. Tumlblr, via google 
7. Made by me in Gimp
8. Bacchus (Caravaggio) 
9. Via google
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weerd1 · 5 years
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Star Trek DS9 Rewatch Log, Stardate 1909.22, Supplemental: Missions Reviewed, “Treachery, Faith, and the Great River,” “Once More Unto the Breach,” “The Siege of AR-558,” “Covenant,” and “It’s Only Paper Moon.” (For Aron.)
“Treachery, Faith, and the Great River” begins with Odo receiving word from a Cardassian informant he thought was executed that they need to meet.  He informs Kira (while massaging out her sore muscles after spingball, godamighty) that he’s going alone, and take a Runabout to see if he can find the man. Meanwhile repairs are behind on the station and the Defiant, and Sisko demands O’Brien have them all completed when he gets back from a conference on Bajor. O’Brien is stymied, not having the parts he needs, when Nog offers to get them. 
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He just needs Chief’s access codes to make the right trades to make it happen. Odo arrives at the rendezvous to find Weyoun, who wants to defect.  While they are heading back to DS9, they are hailed from Cardassia by…Weyoun and Damar. Turns out the Weyoun of the last couple of years died in an transporter accident. The Weyoun 6 clone is the defector, and Weyoun 7 wants him hunted down. Damar says they must destroy the ship, but Weyoung 7 knows the Jem’Hadar will never fire on Odo.  Damar mentions they don’t have to know he’s on board. Kira calls on O’Brien to explain why the Captain’s desk is missing, and Worf and Martok want to know why their bloodwine is gone. Confronting Nog, the Ferengi explains that the universe is governed by the Great Material Continuum, running like a river from places with too much of a thing to places with not enough of a thing.  He is counting on the river to get them their parts, with a little help from Ferengi trade practices. After one Jem’Hadar ship is defeated with Weyoun 6’s command, the Female Changeling confronts Weyoun 7 and Damar about what’s going on. Damar notices that the Changeling doesn’t look right, she looks dried out.  As soon as he mentions it, she changes and demands they get Weyoun 6. Six meanwhile, with Odo and cornered by Jem’Hadar reveals that the Founders are sick, all of them. He defected to make sure Odo was ok, and tell him that HE will be the last Founder, and de facto leader of the Dominion if the other die; and opportunity to reconstruct the Dominion as an organization of cooperation and peace. To Weyoun 7 to call off the attack, Six activates a built in suicide pill, and Seven is true to his word. Six asks Odo for his blessing as he dies, and indeed the clone dies in the arms of his God, his faith rewarded. 
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On DS9, O’Brien expects to be derided when called to Sisko’s office, but Nog is there, as is the captain’s desk, and the repair parts are in the hanger. As they leave ops Worf and Martok appear. Somehow Nog as replaced their bloodwine with vintage 2309, far better quality than what they had before.  O’Brien is amazed, but Nog cites the Great Material River, HIS faith rewarded.
The A and B stories here almost get equal time, but there are a lot of great reveals here. The fact the Founders basically uplifted a group of timid tree apes to create the Vorta; the Vorta’s cloning practices; the fact the Founders are ill (there will be some more dire revelations about this later). All those heavy moments balance well with the Nog/O’Brien storyline.  Now, I have to tell you. This episode as a toy and nerd collector affected me deeply, and to this day, it is my policy that if someone really takes a shine to something in my collection, I pass it on to them. I like to call it, “casting it into the great material river.”  Whenever there is a hole on my shelf, something show up to take its place. I have faith my toys end up in the hands they should.
Kor comes to DS9 to ask Worf to help him go “Once More Unto the Breach.”  Kor has been marginalized in the war, and has not been able to seek glorious combat. Worf asks Martok if there is place for Kor, but Martok is incensed. Years before, Martok’s career was almost derailed before it could begin by Kor because the House of Kor was a great one, noble, and Martok was little more than a farm boy. Worf convinces him to allow Kor on as Third Officer in a mission to raid a Cardassian base. 
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When Martok describes the plan, Kor states it was the same one he and Kang (last seen with Kor in “Blood Oath” way back in season 2, and before that on TOS) against the Federation in the previous century. The crew is overly respectful of Kor, D’Har Master, much to Martok’s chagrin. When the actual fight happens though, Martok and Worf are incapacitated, and Kor takes over, losing himself and thinking he is back in battle against the Federation and Kang is on his way to help. When Worf and Martok retake control, Kor is shamed and abashed, but their small fleet is also being pursued by ten Jem’Hadar ships. Worf devises a plan to stop them, but it will cost a ship. If that ship can stop even a few of the enemy ships, the others might escape.  Worf plans to take command, but Kor knocks him out with a hypo, beaming to the bird of prey that will face the Jem’Hadar. Martok monitors the battle, amazed at Worf’s bravery, but Worf appears on the bridge, informing him it is Kor in battle.
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  They watch amazed, waiting for whatever ships Kor cannot stop to pursue them.  None do. Though it cost his life, Kor destroys all ten Jem’Hadar vessels, leaving Martok’s crew—and Martok himself—to drink and sing songs of Kor’s victory, knowing they will see him in Sto-Vo-Kor.
Another great Klingon episode, and a great end for the always entertaining, and slightly mad, Kor. This it turns out was also John Colicos’ final acting role, and what a note to go out on.  The heroic battle is pure Klingon here too. The tension between noble houses and minor houses on Qo’noS is interesting, as it will also factor heavily into “Discovery” in its first season, specifically with the House of Kor dealing with Voq, son of none. There are also a few nice moments between Kor and Ezri, who seems to immediately accept Dax as Dax. Perhaps he adapted better having already dealt with the change from Curzon to Jadzia, however even then he was rather quick to accept her.  An interesting quirk for someone so adherent to Klingon noble traditions.
“The Siege of AR-558” has the Defiant bringing supplies to a Starfleet outpost in the Chin’Toka system, which has not been easily held. The outpost has captured a Dominion communications array, and hope to crack it, but have been too busy defending it against repeated attacks. On the mission is Quark at the behest of the Nagus who wants a report on the state of the war. It isn’t good. These people have been defending this outpost for five months; two months longer than a tour is supposed to be.  They were 150 people, they are now down to about 40. They are constantly falling victim to “Houdini mines,” small floating explosives that hang in subspace and randomly appear and explode, perhaps somewhere you’ve walked a hundred times.
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 Nog is impressed by the battle hardened humans here, but Quark warns him these are not the cuddly Earthers he knows.   “…take away their creature comforts… deprive them of food, sleep, sonic showers… put their lives in jeopardy over an extended period of time… and those same friendly, intelligent, wonderful people will become as nasty and violent as the most bloodthirsty Klingon. You don't believe me? Look at those faces, look at their eyes…" When the Dominion attacks the Defiant, Worf pulls back, leaving Sisko, Bashir, Nog, Dax, and Quark on the surface to help defend the base. Ezri befriends Kellin (played by Lost in Space and Babylon Five’s Bill Mumy) who is trying to crack the mine problem, and they start to work. Sisko sends Nog out on a scouting mission with two of the Soldiers here, and though they get a good look at the Jem’Hadar base, one is killed and Nog loses his leg. Bashir plays Vic Fontaine music as they await the attack, but when Ezri and Kellin get control of the mines, Sisko uses them on the Jem’Hadar, thinning their numbers before the attack. One of the Jem’Hadar makes it to where Nog lies wounded, Quark himself shoots him down. 
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When all is said and done, Kellin is dead, but reinforcements and engineers arrive, allowing the one survivor of the original group to leave with the Defiant.
A grim and powerful episode that aims to look war right in the face.  Quark’s speech I quote here is really fantastic, but comes back to haunt him when he too, put in the corner, is willing to shoot to kill, to protect. Ezri questioning Sisko’s decision to turn the mines they were just condemning on the enemy calls into question what is fair in war, but also leaves you as a viewer to decide if it was the right decision or not. The Starfleet trooper with Jem’Hadar Ketracel White bottles, ripped from his enemies’ bodies, brings to mind the Klingon was saw in “Soldiers of the Empire” with Cardassian neck bones as a necklace.  At least it isn’t body parts, but DS9 does not flinch here, and it is a better story for it.  Nog losing his leg will come into play again very soon as well.  Back on TOS, Kirk would occasionally refer to himself and other Starfleet members as “Soldiers.” Here we see that’s true; makes you wonder if they plan to bring back the Marines we saw in STVI: The Undiscovered Country (the Colonel of course was played by Rene Auberjonois!).
Kira is visited by an old friend, Vedek Fala, in “Convenant.” He gives her a gift which turns out to be a transponder that allows her transport across the sector to the previously abandoned sister station to DS9, Empok Nor.  There she finds her Vedek is actually part if the cult of the Pah-Wraits, who feel the Prophets turned their back on Bajor. In charge of the cult, she finds Dukat, who feels since he once housed Kost Amojan that he now has been touched by the Pah-Wraiths, and chosen to lead their people.
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 Fala shows her the Bajorans here are completely under Dukat’s sway. Indeed there is one pregnant woman, who with her husband have only been allowed to have kids because Dukat has allowed it. Kira is less than convinced, but Fala persists telling her the Prophets have lied about the Pah-Wraits and they are peaceful. Dukat meanwhile tells Kira he has changed, and he loves his people. She points out he has set up some weird simulation of what he lost, commanding a station like Terok Nor, with a horde of Bajorans who love him. This proves startlingly true when the pregnant mother gives birth to a half-Cardassian baby. Dukat claims it is a miracle and a sign, but there are some doubters. He meets with the woman, apologizing for the “weakness” that allowed him to father her child, but when she says no one else knows, he tries to flush her out an airlock. 
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Kira and Fala come along and save her, but now Dukat must act. He locks Kira in her room and is going to take poison with all of his followers so they can “shed their bodies” to help the Pah-Wraiths enter the Celestial Temple. Kira breaks out and tackles Dukat just as he was going to take the first pill, knocking his from his hand. When Fala hands him just another one out of the box, Dukat won’t take it, and they all realize he was going to let them die and go on. He tells them it was what the Pah-Wraiths wanted, but they aren’t having it, and he has to beam away. Fala meanwhile takes his pill and dies in Kira’s arms, telling her it was because of “faith.”
Dukat going full blown cult-leader is right in line with his arrogance and his ego. It’s just another example to me though that one of the bets DS9 misses is having Kira kill Dukat at the end of the series.  Yes, this sets him to as a vessel of the Pah-Wraiths, an Anti-Emissary, but I thing all the personal grudges with Kira deserve a better resolution. And for those who freak out over Scotty building an interplanetary transporter in the Kelvin Timeline, here’s one at work with Dominion tech in 2374, 13 years BEFORE Spock will go back in time and teach KY Scotty how to finish his. For that matter, before the Voyager will show up in just a couple of years with Borg Transwarp tech too. The Kelvin Timeline works if you just look at the details.
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Finally, fandom tonight watched “It’s Only a Paper Moon” as a tribute to Aron Eisenberg’s passing, so I made sure I got this far.  Nog returns to the station with his new bio-synthetic leg, but it hurts him and he must walk with a cane. All his medical checks show fine though, and he is interested in doing nothing but lying in bed and listening to Vic Fontaine sing “I’ll Be Seeing You,” the song Bashir played in “The Siege of AR-558.” When Jake can’t take more than three days of that song on repeat he confronts Nog, who leaves and goes to the Holosuite to hear Vic sing it.  Nog decides to stay and live in the holosuite for a while.  Ezri is skeptical, but Vic mentions he will take care of the kid. Indeed, Vic helps wean him off his cane, and gives him something to do by letting him do the casino’s “books.” Nog though seems so comfortable he won’t come out. Ezri asks Vic when he’s going to be done with him, and Vic seems to realize he too has become dependent on Nog; usually, he’s only on for a few hours at a time, but with Nog there 26 hours a day, he is now constant. 
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 Realizing he’s putting his own needs first, Vic shuts down the program himself.  Nog tries to get it running again, but can’t, but Vic appears to ask him about it. Nog says he doesn’t want to go back to the real world because he’s afraid, as anything could happen. Vic tells him that’s life, and why you have to seize it when you can, and indeed why he was happy to have Nog there. It’s time though, time for Nog to seize it for real. Nog leaves without his cane, and reunites with his family. Later, back in uniform Nog visits and tells Vic he has a present for him. Nog has made a deal with Quark, and this holosuite will continue to run full time, allowing Vic a life. Nog knows it’s the least he can do since Vic helped him get his own life back.
Bittersweet to watch tonight, but a great episode that takes a long look at the trauma of war and the mental scars that can be far worse than the physical ones.  The continued development of Vic Fontaine as a sentient lifeform is interesting, able to control who does and does not use his program. Still self aware though that there are times he is “off.” Aron Eisenberg is of course terrific and this is an important episode for Nog, demonstrating why this was the episode his friends, fans, and family chose to commemorate him.  
NEXT VOYAGE: The Orion Syndicate has come back for O’Brien, and somehow the Tigan family is involved. The Tigans are Ezri’s family before she was joined; she comes home in “Prodigal Daughter.”
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Spider-Man PS4
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Playstation has been on a roll with the exclusives for the Playstation 4. With amazing titles like Horizon Zero Dawn, God of War and Persona 5; will playstation hit a snag at some point with a future exclusive? At the moment this still isn’t the case. From developer Insomniac Games comes the next big hit for the console, Spider-Man. Based off the comic book series from Marvel Comics, players are put in control of the classic neighborhood hero. It brings forward new story, separate from the ongoing comics; while at the same time, it also presents elements veterans will be familiar with. Yet, it’s done in such a way that it hits hard and does the franchise justice.
Spider-Man starts years after Peter Parker has started his web-slinging career. He’s put many villains behind bars, such as Scorpion and Rhino. Already the game is off to a good start. Deciding to start the story after the origins is a great move. The knowledge of Spider-Man’s backstory isn’t needed. Pretty much everyone who knows the series to some degree know what happened to Peter Parker. There is nothing duller than repeating old material that is pretty much universally known. At the same time, however, the game does re-purpose old material. 
It would be difficult to completely avoid re-using old content with something as long running as Spider-Man. The developers could have made their own villain to produce something new, but would Marvel agree to this? The way Insomniac makes this work is the development and direction taken. People know the origin stories behind specific villains; however, Insomniac shows players something that isn’t fully new and paints it in a light that feels interesting. While some of the rogues gallery has been fighting Spider-Man for years, others are just being introduced and it’s done so well. There is so much emotional build up through out the game that when the climax and resolution hit, it’s legitimately a tear-jerker.
Part of this is thanks to the structure of the story. The story is broken into three acts, but it feels like one big story that hardly takes a break. The first act is dedicated to building up characters. Most of the cutscenes serve to slowly introduce one of the main villains of the game while developing upon the characters around Peter. The second act focuses more on the villain, and Peter attempting to bring his scheme to an end before it gets out of hand.There is still a level of character building, but as the game reaches the climax the development of characters is also hitting a peak. Lastly when the third act hits the players see the results of everything leading to this point. All that build up hits in such a fashion that, for me, Peter’s struggle is understood by players and we sympathize with his plight.
The story also has the characters to thank for it’s success as well. Spider-Man/Peter Parker’s character is amazing. He is as human as a superhero with spider like powers can get.
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As Peter he’s a kind and awkward individual. Peter at this point in the game is out of college and living on his own. He always sees the good in people around him. He’s not Spider-Man for the fame, or fortune that could come from it. At the same time he isn’t at a level like Captain America or the other Avengers. This all translates into his superhero persona.
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Spider-Man has always been known as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and, with this iteration of the character, this couldn’t be any more true. The story has the player going toe to toe with big villains to save the streets of New York; however, the side missions really paint a bigger picture for the character. The side missions aren’t anything grand and story driven like something our of games like Red Dead or Nier Automata; however, this works for Spider-Man. The missions and crimes the player complete feel small and at a neighborhood level. For example, the main story could have me go against Mr.Negative; while, at the same time, the side quests have me going to save a cat from a tree. It’s small, but it fits the character.
The biggest part of the character is the idea of “always seeing the good in people.” When it comes to villains that Spider-Man has fought before, the idea doesn’t really apply. Though, for some of the villains present, the idea hits hard. Take Mr.Negative for example; due to the interactions through Peter Parker, the scenes as Spider-Man does each character and the story justice. It shows what kind of hero Peter truly is deep down. He cares for the people around him. He may not seem all that serious at times and takes some situations in a joking manner. Though, in the end, as long as there is some fraction of good inside someone then Peter doesn’t give up. Spider-Man is smart, comical, but above all it’s his moral compass that makes the character.
It’s not just Spider-Man though, the supporting cast and antagonists all contribute to the story. There is no end to the level of detail and development among the game and it’s cast. There is Mary Jane, Miles Morales, and other well known characters introduced throughout the game.
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Mary and Miles aren’t your cliche background characters that are their for the ride. They each play a role to aid in Peters goal. They share game-play styles, but with small changes to specific things.To avoid spoilers I can’t go too deep into the antagonists and what happens. Just know that each character plays their part and plays it well.
Spider-Man’s story is amazing, but if people wanted this for an amazing story alone they could go to a local book store and find many great comics on the character. How is the game-play? Ultimately, it’s fantastic. The fighting feels fluid and fun, swinging around New York feels outstanding and easy. Not to mention that the design of specific elements through the game are well thought out considering the source material. If there was one thing I had a problem with, in terms of game-play, it came later in the game. As the player progresses new enemies start to appear. These enemies arrive in numbers and most of them will be carrying weaponry. You may be able to dodge one shooting at you perfectly but, more times than not, you’ll be shot by the rest and end up with little to no health left.
Otherwise the game-play feels amazing. Fighting takes a lot of elements from games like Batman: Arkham Asylum; however, in Spider-Man’s case, the fighting feels a lot more free and light. The hits still pack a punch, but Spider-Man himself moves faster and with more personality. 
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Players can use gadgets to turn the tide of battle, and some scenarios call for a stealthy approach. As a combo is racked up a focus bar is filled; when the bar is filled Spider-Man can perform a finishing move. Then there are the suits. At face value they seem like a purely aesthetic part of the game. Though they are more than just a costume swap.
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There are a good amount of Spidey-suits the player can unlock and, while they look cool, they serve more of a purpose. Each suit comes with a special ability. For example, in the video above, the Spider-Punk suit produces a shockwave from a guitar which pushes enemies back. The abilities are made to produce different ways of playing the game. Do you want to handle things in a stealthy manner, or up front and personal? Are you more aggressive or defensive? The player isn’t just a man in a suit; there is more to how people make their Spider-Man. The biggest thing, when it comes to Spider-Man, was how well does he maneuver? In my opinion, swinging feels so fun and enjoyable that I could do nothing in the game but traverse New York and still have a good time.
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Swinging around the city is one of the best experiences in the game. You’re always moving and, if someone does fall to the ground or loses momentum, it’s really simple to begin traversing things thanks to the scale of New York. It’s clear that the webs are connecting to something in the area and there is no shortage of things for Spider-Man to build momentum. It’s like a parkour mechanic in games that is everything I could have wanted. It’s incredibly responsive and both feels and looks fluid. I’d say it’s one of the best means of traversing a city-scape and the best among Spider-Man games.
Overall Spider-Man is an awesome game. While the story is linear, I would love to replay the game again. It’s was an amazing experience that I would love to give a solid 10. Though there were moments that were aggravating when it came to side crime fights.  The game had a few small things that I would have liked to be ironed out, but otherwise I really loved this game and I’d say it’s one of my all time favorite PS4 games. I’d say that Spider-Man deserves a 9 out of 10. I highly recommend this game; not just for Spider-man fans but for all gamers looking for something downright fun.
Thanks for reading and supporting me. I hope you enjoyed my opinion, even if you don’t fully agree with me. I’ll be posting about what’s ahead for the month of October this weekend. Until then, however, thanks again and I’ll see ya next time.
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ticklishhpickle · 7 years
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Worth The Whisk (Part 1/?)
Summary: When superhero Dan Howell gets paired up with fellow hero and arch nemesis Phil Lester for an important mission, he's pissed beyond belief. But as the two are forced to work together to take down the evil Dr.Bickletwist, Dan finds Phil might not be as awful as he first thought... (Phan superhero AU) 
Word count: 2.7k 
Warnings: none
Read it on Ao3!
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They were arguing again, but that was nothing new. Dan had allowed his mortal enemy, Phil Lester, to sit with him and Tyler at lunch- which had taken a lot of convincing on Tyler’s part- and it had ended just how he’d expected it to. It was over the stupidest thing ever, too. Probably the hundredth newspaper article had been written about Phil for something as mediocre as rescuing a kitten from a tree. It was like he didn’t even take his job as a superhero seriously, wasting his time on mundane tasks when there were dozens of supervillains at large. So when Phil had brought up the article, it was only natural that Dan expressed his thoughts on it.
“Oh please, I’m not going to listen to someone whose supername is ‘The Sunshine Man’.” Dan used sarcastic air quotes when he said the older man’s stupid name.
“Well at least my name doesn’t contain the word ‘whisk’!” Phil spat, his face red and his fists clenched.
That did it. That was a sore spot for Dan, and Phil knew it. It wasn’t okay. It was fine when Tyler or Louise teased him about it because they were actually friends, but Phil Lester was the furthest thing from a friend to Dan. It was kind of ironic, really. Phil had actually been Dan’s first friend at the superschool. Dan had been twelve and stupid, Phil thirteen and probably equally as stupid but they’d gotten along like a house on fire from day one. Unfortunately, it didn’t last.
After what had probably been the best year of Dan's life, Phil had become mean and snarky for no particular reason. He’d stopped hanging out with Dan at lunchtime, stopped training with him in their free time, and had moved out of their shared room. Dan still hadn't forgotten all their little inside jokes and games they used to play together, as sad as it was. It was stupid really, Phil was probably just jealous that the commander had started favouring Dan. It wasn’t Dan’s fault the commander liked him so much! He could admit that it was a little unfair how the commander would sometimes spend hours helping Dan when he wouldn’t give half as much time to others such as Phil, but he didn’t ask for that treatment! Phil was honestly the pettiest little man Dan had ever met, despite the fact that Phil was actually a grown man.
Dan teleported out of the room, not having a specific destination in mind but making sure to leave a dark mist of smoke behind him, hoping Phil would choke on it.
A second later he found himself in one of the (thankfully empty)  training rooms. Good. He needed to blow off steam.
The worst thing about being a superhero wasn’t the unwanted fame, the pressure, or even the fact that Dan’s life was at risk more often than not. No, the worst thing about being a superhero was his name. Dan had worked hard for five years, learning everything a superhero needed to know, from controlling his powers to comforting victims in a panic.  
His main power, (besides the ability to make any situation super awkward-perhaps not an official one) was the ability to disperse thick, black billowing smoke from his hands and use it to teleport short distances. Being extremely proud of this power, Dan had decided on a name early on: “The Billowing Smoke”. It sounded edgy, cool (like Dan pretended he was) and aroused just the right amount of intrigue. It was a pity that it was a far cry from the name he actually ended up with.
The night before graduation Tyler and Dan had decided to have a sleepover. Bad idea. By 3am, they’d ended up on Pornhub, watching a woman having her… ‘special place’ opened by a whisk. Dan had been so traumatised he’d ended up not sleeping that night, images of giant whisks invading his thoughts. Graduation morning had come, and Dan felt like shit, having only gotten two hours of uninterrupted sleep. When it was his turn to sign the scroll, permanently securing his superhero name, he hadn’t written “The Billowing Smoke” like he’d been planning to for the past five years, no. In his sleep-deprived, traumatised-by-weird-porn state he’d written: “The Billowing Whisk”.
All his fellow graduates had struggled to hold back their laughter, the bastards, even Dan’s own grandma was cracking up a little. But worst of all was Tyler Oakley, the little shit. Having chosen the respectable name of ‘The Flame-ingo’ (‘I’m a flaming homosexual figuratively and literally Dan!’), Tyler was laughing his ass off at Dan’s less fortunate name. It had taken several days of apologies, food bribes and begging for forgiveness on Tyler’s part for them to patch their friendship up.
“Oi, whisk!” someone called obnoxiously from the other room. See? A year on and the awful name was still haunting him.
“Tyler, for the millionth time, DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!!” Dan exclaimed, his voice going squeaky and high pitched from the strain.
The next moment a pink flamingo was strutting through the door into the training room Dan was in. Somehow even in flamingo form Tyler retained the same walking style.
“Never. Who would let a hero forget their origin story?” he said, standing behind Dan who was in the process of shooting smoke out of his hands.
“Tyler. That’s not my origin story. I was a normal kid who just happened to have powers and was chosen by the Supanova academy to ‘save the world’ when I can’t really. Same as everyone else’s origin story, except they actually like being superheroes.”
Tyler jumped back a little when his friend disappeared and promptly reappeared less than ten centimetres away from him, dark smoke billowing around them. Dan laughed when he saw Tyler’s reaction.
“What are you doing here anyway? I’m in the middle of training you know. And I’m mad at you. You shouldn’t have asked Lester to sit with us. You know we don’t get along.” A thick gust of smoke shot out of Dan’s hand and onto one of the practice dummies. It fell to the ground with a soft thud.
“You seriously don’t even give him a chance! He’s a lovely person. They don’t call him ‘Sunshine man’ for no reason, you know.”
Dan stared at Tyler like he was the camera from ‘The Office’. Tyler suddenly changed back to his human form and waved a judgemental hand.
“Fine! Don’t be friends with him, your loss anyway. Besides, that’s not what I came in here to talk to you about. Commander Ocean Liner asked me to come get you, he needs you in his office soon.” Tyler strung out the ‘soon’ far longer than necessary.
“Oh, great, another talk with the big guy who’s going to assign me to yet another mission that I hate.”
Dan didn’t dislike his boss by any means, it was quite the opposite in fact. He was just very, very, VERY intimidated by him. Going by the name of ‘The Ocean Liner’, the commander had been the most well-known, most powerful and most handsome hero in his time. His hero name was actually cool (unlike Dan’s), relating to his powers in quite a literal sense. He was strong (actually possessing super strength), sturdy and the carrier of many in not only an emotional but also a physical sense. He couldn’t fly, like most of the other heroes could, but boy, he could do something much weirder. He was able to morph into any different kind of boat, his favourite kind being ocean liners as he reasoned that their main purpose was to carry the weight of others- just like his was.
In addition to that, he’d founded the entire Supernova academy and agency at the age of 12. Dan still got his left and right confused at that age. He was the one who had recruited Dan, who had helped so much for all five years of training, and even though he was his boss, he felt a little like family (Dan could never say this out loud, it would be far too awkward). The Ocean Liner was retired from superheroing now, his main focus assigning missions, training superstudents and in general just keeping everything in the academy and agency running smoothly.
Dan walked out of the room, not wanting to use his flying powers unnecessarily- god forbid he be as extra as Tyler who had literally morphed himself into a flamingo just to talk to Dan- and made his way to the office.
In order to get to the office, he had to pass through several training rooms other than his own. The first he passed contained a huffing and sweating Louise (better known as ‘The Glitterbomb’) flying impressively around the room. She was abusing the prop enemies coming from every direction with innocent-enough looking sprinkles of glitter that actually peeled ten layers of human skin off per second. It was an amazing sight. By the time Dan had reached the door at the end of the room, fifty out of fifty of the enemies were melting into nothing on the ground. “Nice one Lou!” Dan called out when he was halfway out the door.
“Thanks Dan, see you at dinner!” The woman was breathing quite heavily, but her voice still retained its characteristic perkiness.
The next room he’d walked into his balls had nearly frozen over. The entire room was covered in frost, snowflakes that Dan knew for a fact were sharper than daggers filling the air. He quickly teleported the small distance from one side of the room to the other. It was best not to get in Snowella’s way when she was training.
After going through a couple more (thankfully empty) rooms Dan was finally sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of the commander’s desk, tapping his foot nervously. He was not excited for the new mission. The commander wasn’t in the room for some reason, despite the fact he had been the one to initiate the meeting. Dan looked around the familiar room, eyeing up the seemingly endless display of awards, newspaper articles and fanmail all dedicated to The Ocean Liner. On his desk was a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day, huge smiles on their faces and all of the superheroes from the agency behind them pulling funny faces. They didn’t have any children and weren’t planning to have any either as far as Dan knew, taking care of about a hundred fully-grown children with superpowers was enough already.
Dan sat up a little straighter when he heard the door opening and the distinctive footsteps of the captain.
“Hello Dan.” the tall man greeted, sitting down on his office chair.
“Hello, Frank .” Dan replied, not even bothering to hide the grin that was overtaking his face. The commander hated it when Dan called him that name, which only spurred Dan on to use it more.
“Daniel, please do not call me that. No one’s supposed to know my real name, you need to call me commander or Ocean Liner.” The large man gave Dan a glare, but Dan saw the small smile behind it.
“Alright, commander. So what’s my mission this time?” The commander cleared his throat. “So you may have heard of a notorious villain who goes by the name of Dr.Bickletwist. ”
Dan’s lips tightened into a thin line. Bickletwist was perhaps the most evil villain he’d ever encountered, and that was saying a lot. Money, notoriety or even revenge didn’t seem to be his motive… what he wanted was something much more sinister: babies. For the past seven years, Bickletwist had been sneaking into family houses, plucking babies from their cradles, as if they were free samples at the bread store.  He couldn’t count the number of times he’d chased after Dr.Bickletwist, desperately trying to rescue the infants. He could definitely count the number of times he had succeeded, however- none. Dr.Bickletwist was fast, so fast that by the time Dan or any other hero for that matter could get to the scene of the crime the babies were long gone and the parents in tears. Dan hated him, and hated himself for not saving them.
Dan gave the commander a look as if to say, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’.
“We’ve tracked him down.”
Dan’s stomach flipped over, he wasn’t sure if it was in excitement or dread or both. He prayed this conversation wasn’t going where he thought it was.
“Last night he struck again, as you would have heard and he got away as usual. But this time, our friend Alfie managed to throw a tracking device onto his cape before he got away.”
The commander smiled proudly.
“I’ve chosen you to go to that island, find his lair and stop him once and for all. The children, and their parents need you.”
Dan’s head was spinning, where was this coming from? He hadn’t even caught Dr.Bickletwist once! He was probably the worst person to ask to do the job.
“I-I don’t think I can.” Dan said after a moment of silence. “I’m probably the worst one of your heroes, my powers aren’t great, I’m not smart either, my-”
Dan was abruptly cut off.
“That’s a pile of bullshit. Dan, you train harder than anyone at Supernova. There’s a reason I spent so much time helping you while you were still in superschool. I saw something in you, from the very first day you were here.I know you haven’t caught Dr.Bickletwist before, but no one has. You’ve probably come the closest.”
The man gestured to a particular newspaper article on his wall, titled ‘THE CHASE IS OVER!!! OCEAN LINER DEFEATS DOOT-DOO BOY AFTER FIVE YEARS! THE WORLD IS SAFE’. A picture of a young Ocean Liner in his prime was attached, his currently semi-balding hair was actually a full head of luscious brown locks, his face a lot less wrinkly but his smile equally bright.
“I can’t tell you the number of times I wanted to give up on catching him. Doot-doo boy was awful, his name probably even more so. ‘Doot-doo boy’ is nearly as bad as ‘The Billowing Whisk’.”
Dan was getting ready to smack the commander at the last sentence.
“Anyway, I was really doubting myself, like you are right now. But I persevered, and I caught him. I’m not just saying this because you’re my friend Dan, I’m saying this because we both know how capable you are of defeating him. You’ve defeated so many other villains in your time, Bickletwist will just become another one of those.”
During the commander’s mini speech, Dan had felt himself coming closer and closer to agreeing. He was still unsure though. Bickletwist was by far the most genius, most cunning villain he’d ever known, and Dan wasn’t sure he’d be able to face him… alone, at least. Wait. If Tyler and Louise came along with him they’d be unstoppable! His friends were amazing at what they did, and being so close they’d surely be able to work well together to defeat the villain.
“Ok.” Dan said, surprising the commander and himself a little.
“I’ll do it, but only if Louise and Tyler come with me. I can’t do it alone.”
The captain’s eyes widened before a very sheepish expression appeared on his chiseled face.
“Well… about that. I’ve kind of um, already chosen someone to go on the mission with you.”
“Who? Alfie? Or Zoe? That could work I guess…” Dan said, a little disappointed.
The commander was looking at the wall behind Dan now, not making eye contact with him.
“Not exactly… Maybe it’s best I tell you both at the same time… I’ll get them now.” The Captain hesitated, before dialling a number and whispering lowly, clearly not wanting Dan to hear.
Why was he being so weird? Who could he possibly have chosen to go with Dan that he felt the need to make such a big fuss of it? Dan eyed the commander suspiciously.
“Frank. Who the fuck are you getting to come with me?”
The commander didn’t need to answer however, as the person in question had walked through the door, tall and annoying as ever.
“LESTER?!?”
Next Chapter
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themadnessthatis · 7 years
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So, Tomb Raider: Angel of Darkness...
Warning, this is going to be a long-ass post, mostly me rambling about how TR6 was a game with good concepts but shitty execution. Expect a bit of non-linear ranting.
I have some serious Opinions™ on this game, now having finished it (which was a quasi-Herculean feat in of itself from fighting against the game the whole time, but more on that in a bit).
When I first got this game, eyes full of wonder and amazement, I was like “aw yeah, a new Tomb Raider for a new generation of consoles!”. Having only played it for a bit my opinion quickly soured, and the game was never played after having fallen down a hole and dying in the Parisian sewers. All I said to myself at the time was “wow, this game is shit,never playing this again :| .”
Which I didn’t, until recently.
Fast forward a bit, and a friend of mine lends me her PC copies of Tomb Raider 2-through-6 (sadly no copy of TR1  :’[ ), which I sat down and played, all while eyeing up the box containing AoD with animosity. Boy did I regret saying I wouldn’t mind if she lent me that one as well.
But after going through the other games with various degrees of ease, from the “wow it’s over already?” of Chronicles to the “Will it never end?” of TR3 (which I personally rate as the worst of the “old school” Tomb Raiders. Just....fuck that game, the best part of it is the credits, but I digress.), we were left with just one more game; Angel of Darkness, sitting there, almost expectantly.
“Well, it’s been a while, maybe I was just bad at the game, and it’s actually alright?” I said as I set about installing it, ready to give the game the benefit of the doubt.
Well the fact that controller setup was a pain in the arse should’ve been a dead giveaway that something was up. Though is was nowhere near as infuriating as Chronicles, which required a fucking JoyToKey configuration to get it to work smoothly, otherwise jumps would result in Lara just careening off to the side every.fucking.time.)
Actually, when you first play AoD, the controls are really the first thing you’ll pick up on. I.E: they’re the worst. Really they’re the biggest flaw of this whole game, and if they weren’t as clunky and gods-awful as they are, AoD might’ve been a much better experience. Lara controls like a fucking Mark IV from 1917; turns, speed, everything. It’s such a jarring shift from the previous installments that it really takes some time getting used to, and could be a reall deal-breaker. Also Lara no longer runs like she used to, more like a slow jog, only gaining the ability to sprint later in the game (you know, the thing she could do at the very beginning of TR3, 4 and 5? Like she has to learn how to use her legs, after all of her previous escapades?!). Jumping also seems to have undergone some hideous transformation; from somewhat fluid sequences to an absolutely jerky mess of a mechanic, not helped by Lara needing some space to build up momentum (from walk to jog). Like the only time she handles almost smoothly is when she’s swimming (which thank fuck no longer has her getting stuck on the walls and floor like she did in previous games.).
When you’re not busy fighting against the controls and some of the early Capcom-esque fixed camera angles, you might be able to notice some of the changes to the TR formula, for better or for worse.
Perhaps the most noticeable is Lara’s equipment; gone are her iconic (not Ubisoft iconic, mind you) pistols with unlimited ammo. In their place Lara can collect a plethora of new pistols, including a very nice taser. Though this is moot when Lara eventually loses all of her acquired weapons, as she is wont to do if TR1, 2 and 3 are anything to go by. You also get the classic shotgun and two SMGs. Though tbh, and this might just be me, but don’t all of the weapons in this game feel like the do the same amount of damage?
One thing that was a nice touch was the inventory revamp. The ring-like setup from previous TRs is gone, and now each type of item (health, weapons and puzzle clues) have their own inventory sections, making it less of an eyesore than the cluttered messes of the previous game’s inventories. Speaking of health, the repertoire of healing items has been increased, with various items granting various degrees of health restoration, which is nice, no more wasting medikits (though i do not understand how a chocolate bar could heal a person, but whatever, video game logic, i guess.). The puzzle clues section does get kinda cluttered though, as Lara doesn’t seem to want to get rid of anything she picks up, even if she no longer needs it, so her pockets are basically just full of security cards and bits of paper until the end of the game like JESUS CHRIST ON A STICK JUST DUMP THAT SHIT IN A BIN, LARA!”.
On the subject of puzzles, it’s great that that is an element that has carried over to AoD nicely, unlike some of the more modern titles (looking at you, Tomb Raider 2013). The Hall of Seasons was a great example of this, and is very reminiscent of the St Francis’ Folly from the original games, what with its God-themed rooms. Granted that there were other “puzzles” that were a little too obvious, like “push table to find mixture to kill giant plant”. But overall,  the puzzle side of Tomb Raider is definitely there. Although, there are no secrets to find (but after TR3 and 4′s “And your reward is FLARES” bullshit, I’m okay with that).
So, what about the story? To be perfectly honest, it’s as about as normal as a Tomb Raider story line can be: Secret sect looking for paintings so they can resurrect an ancient race of human/angel hybrids that was destroyed back in biblical times except not all of them, and Lara gets involved b/c they killed Von Croy and she was framed for it... Look, it’s certainly not as far-fetched as “Italian mafia dude looking for magic Chinese knife that turns people into dragons instead of corpses when stabbed with it.” (Love you, TR2, but what even...), or whatever the hell was going on in TR3 with its magical ancient Polynesian artifacts and “rapid evolution”, but it’s out there.
Mechanics wise, there have been some changes that are quite nice in concept, but are failed by poor execution (a running theme for this game). The grip meter is a new thing, and is influenced by Lara’s upper body strength (like how her jumping/sprinting and door-kicking are affected by her lower body strength), like a sort of RPG attribute. These body strength factors are a nice tough and could’ve been a plus in a good game, but here the attributes are given out at arbitrary moments throughout the game and feel forced, like at one moment Lara must gain an upper body strength upgrade by just shunting a pile of boxes around for no real reason. When you couple this with the sluggish momentum-based “running”, it’s almost like the developers were trying to go for a more “realistic” feel but didn’t really know how to go about it.
There’s also a certain Bioware-esque dialogue tree that pops up from time to time in the game. While it’s a nice touch, the fact that there’s no real change to the outcome (bar 3 exceptions) kind of makes the interactions pointless.
Going past the mechanics, the game itself (at least on PC), is a glitchy, buggy mess that would crash for no reason. Textures are missing, walls vanish in some of Kurtis’ (a boring, bland secondary character we get to play as, and I’ll get to him in a second.) levels for no reason, not to mention that one level can be skipped entirely thanks to a bug where Lara just has to roll into a fucking wall. Also, not certain if it’s more an exploit than it is a bug, but it’s kinda of an anticlimax that the last two bosses can be cheesed by just commando-crawling under their projectiles. The greatest menaces to humanity, outdone by toddler maneuvers .
Now, onto Kurtis...Kurtis is a member of an organisation dedicated to stomping out evil, particularly sorcery and alchemy (thus pitting him against the big baddie, Eckhardt, who looks like he just got done trying to audition for the part of Auron from Final Fantasy). He’s supposed to come across as some sort of bad boy with magical powers, but honestly he’s a boring, ugly, fucking Broody McGravelvoice with no personality. You get to play as him for all of 3 (or was it 4?) levels, and boy oh boy, you will hat him throughout all of them. Somehow, and I didn’t know it was possible, somehow he controls WORSE than Lara. He moves like he’s got a broom up his arse and jumps like he’s on the fucking moon. His levels feel like they were  some De-mastered edition of Until Dawn, full of enemies that serve no purpose other than to drain you of resources, and are capped off with the worst boss fight ever, thanks to twitchy auto-aim and Kurtis’ shoddy controls. Like fucking Mark Williard at  the end of TR3 was more feasible than this cavalcade of bullshit. Also the first time he meets Lara in the Louvre, the cut-scene is just so unsettling and creepy, she should’ve just beat his arse into the tiled floor there and then. I seriously hope he’s dead.
And the ending... What a bloody disappointment; Lara wanders off into a dark passage after killing the bigger bad, and then...nothing. No credits, no “the end” screen, the game just shits you back onto the “Press Start” screen.
But in the end, after all was said and done, I think my opinion of AoD has shifted somewhat. I don’t hate it like I thought I did, I’m just, I dunno, disappointed...This game had so many good ideas that were handled so poorly, and it certainly wasn’t helped that, at least on the PC version, it was a glitch-fest and the controls were piss-poor. And as a final insult? Jiggle physics. I’m not fucking kidding like Core Design  couldn’t iron out the bugs and do something about the arse-backwards controls, but they gotta make sure dem jiggly titties are in there? -_-’ Fucking hell what a dumpster fire of a game. Like I want to like it but the fuck-headedness of it all just, just no. 
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