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welcometothejianghu · 27 days ago

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 长安十二时辰 / The Longest Day in Chang'an.

The Longest Day in Chang'an is a 2019 historical drama about a rugged soldier guy who gets pulled off of death row in the morning by a clever little twink in order to stop a terrorist attack that's going to unfold over the next twenty-four hours.

This show is the most Western c-drama I've ever seen. It's a high-budget, high-action tale that branches and weaves and barrels right through a real setting, mixing historical accuracy with action-packed sequences full of anachronistic explosives and mechanisms. Watching it is an experience much like playing a Triple-A video game, to the point where I'm surprised they haven't made a video game version of it, considering their other tie-ins.

Despite similarities in context and setting, this is not the cerebral tension of Nirvana in Fire -- this drama is much more visceral. Sometimes you can tell it's dedicated to going full speed ahead with the narrative just so you don't stop to ask, wait, but why is he doing that? The Longest Day in Chang'an has no time for your pesky plot questions! We've got a city to save and a day to do it in! So if you're up for a thrilling ride through the Tang Dynasty, strap in for five reasons I think you should watch this one.

1. Have you ever seen a show so beautiful you started crying?

Well, now you have.

I cannot convey in words how lush and elaborate these environments and costumes are, nor how stunning the lighting and cinematography are. But don't worry, the drama does it for me with glorious minutes-long single shots that track the action through the most complicated sets I've ever seen a television production use. At many points, it feels like watching a stage play, or maybe even a ballet. The scene choreography alone will take your breath away.

My main comment about this show is, it absolutely didn't have to go that hard. But it did. And we all get to enjoy it.

2. The world's most fuckable protagonist

Yeah, sure, there’s prettyboys aplenty out there in the c-drama world, swirling around in long robes and giving the demi-girlies gender envy. Zhang Xiaojing is butch hot like suns are hot. He is a dirty DILF with battle damage who flings himself bodily into danger at the slightest opportunity. He mumbles and sneers his way through most conversations. You can smell him through the screen.

When we first meet Zhang Xiaojing, he's just been sprung from prison, where he's been awaiting execution for plot reasons. The offer is simple: Something real bad is about to go down in Chang'an, and he's being given the opportunity to stop it. He's not bargaining for his freedom -- when this is over, he will be returned to death row. Everyone, including him, is very clear on this matter. He is simply being given a chance to do some good before he dies.

Everybody onscreen with this man clearly wants him to toss them over his shoulder and have his way with them. He quickly accumulates a harem of a beautiful boy-twink, a powerful girl-twink, an autistic archivist, his goddaughter, [spoiler], and a literal Prince of Persia, all of whom want his to fuck him so bad it actually makes them look incredibly smart, because you're like, yeah, jumping on this guy's fat dick would be the best life decision you'd ever made.

Because this is a Boy Show For Boys, gay things are unthinkable -- which (as I said in my Sand Sea rec post) flips right around to making everything unintentionally really really gay. If you're a fan of intimate male friendships and ride-or-die loyalty between men, this show will keep you happy for a good long while. And I'm sure it's largely the circumstances, but I tend to read Zhang Xiaojing's sexuality as Busy, Come Back Later, for both his general disinterest in the women who keep throwing themselves at him and how the few times he sexually harasses that girl-twink sound more like Captain Holt expressing desire for a strong, female woman with nice, heavy breasts.

Speaking of the girl-twink, her name is Tan Qi and she's incredibly badass. Given my general ish about c-drama het romances in general, I was surprised to find myself rooting for this pair of partners -- because partners is what they are. There are several points in the show that only work because each of them can pick up the other's cues without missing a beat. They each save the other's life more than once. And -- and this is the best part -- they don't stop the plot to do a romance! They're just going to do their fake-marriage routines and move on, because what's more important than wanting to bone is how they've got a city (and a boy-twink) to save.

Here is the boy-twink. He is seventeen. Someone please care him.

Zhang Xiaojing is one hell of a kickpuncher. He gets into well-choreographed fights about once every third episode or so. There are so many manly brawls in this one, where he just takes on a dozen guys at once. And it's not without breaking a sweat! He gets hurt a lot in the process! This is a man who understands from the get-go he's not supposed to get of this one alive, and he acts accordingly.

What makes him so compelling, though, is that he's got a good heart. Time and trauma have rotted a lot of him through, but at his core, he's a good person who wants to save innocent people, with no thought of reward. Everyone else wants to get him out of his death sentence, while he's accepted his fate. He just loves this city and all that it represents, and if he can exchange his life for it, he will.

He is also A Friend To Dogs. As though he could be any more perfect!!

BY THE WAY, TINY IS FINE

When Tiny the dog (that's Tiny up there) was introduced, we were worried. Would this be an excuse to hurt Tiny? No, Tiny is fine. Tiny makes it out okay. He does his job and gets to run around and even gets some delicious meat. Tiny is a very good dog.

3. That flippy kid from Persia

I cannot believe how hard fandom is sleeping on the BEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SHOW.

I'm going to call him Isse, because that's what the Viki fan subtitles call him. The characters for his name are 伊斯 (yī sī), so, you know, make of that what you will. Even though he's a minor character who's only in a few episodes -- few enough that I actually had trouble finding any good images of him -- he absolutely steals every scene he's in.

Isse is hilarious. He is the show's comic relief at some key moments. I'm not even going to tell you all of what he's got up his long friar-robe sleeves, because some of the reveals are just too funny, but suffice it to say, he is a gem. Isse is the perfect foil to Zhang Xiaojing's serious, mission-focused personality, because he's just following along like an eager little puppy who just really wants to play fetch with the handsome and dangerous man he's just met. The show's writer is an insane genius for knowing that the drama needed a little levity and choosing to impart it in the form of a Nestorian Christian friar who does parkour. (He literally says the word "parkour.")

And yes, he is gorgeous. The show knows that he's gorgeous. Several characters bring up how gorgeous he is, including Isse himself. It's never not funny as hell when it happens.

He's also far from the only central Asian character in the mix. The first arc in particular revolves around the community of Zoroastrians living in Chang'an. When was the last time you saw something that featured a bunch of Zoroastrians? It's great! I love the show's multicultural Chang'an -- and how the multiculturalism is a feature, not a bug. Part of why Chang'an is worth saving is the rich variety of humanity that it contains. It's not a perfect city, the show has no illusions about that, but it's still a very good one.

Isse's appearance is where the show's video-game logic really kicks in, enough that I feel almost certain that calling him a Persian prince and then having him do somersaults off rooftops must be a reference. No Sands of Time for him, though. We've got a twenty-four-hour clock at play, and it runs forward only.

Anyway, I do not know why the #1 AO3 relationship for this show isn't an OT3 featuring Tan Qi (very upset to discover how heterosexual all this is revealing her to be), Zhang Xiaojing (gay? ace?? and surprised to find himself attracted to a woman), and Isse (bisexual celibate, just happy to be here). Y'all are going to make me do all the work myself.

4. It sounds amazing

The score is incredible. I mean it. I haven't been this blown away by the music in a c-drama since Guardian. The overall sound of it is very much like classic a Hollywood film score, except that it's working with a lot of instrumentation and intonation choices that make it distinctly Chinese. The composers even take a number of its more traditional-sounding tracks and re-orchestrate them into modern versions that play over various closing credits and emotional scenes. The combination of old and new, east and west just makes me so happy! I love a good fusion!

Here, I found a couple of playlists so you can give it a listen.

If you know anything about premodern Chinese music, you can hear that the score isn't period-accurate, nor is it trying to be. Instead, it's keeping up a very good approximation of what eighth-century China might have sounded like, interpreted through enough modern sensibilities and orchestration and singing styles that contemporary ears don't have a whole what's all this noise, then? reaction to it.

After all, we've all grown up with certain ideas about what film/television scores sound like when they're trying to set certain moods. We've seen enough well-soundtracked movies to know what certain musical cues and tones "mean." The music here holds to those unwritten rules while still sounding like it belongs in its setting. I think it's a really successful balance, enough that I think it deserves its own selling point in this post.

There are also a couple of diegetic performances in the show, which are delightful to watch. Frankly, I wish there'd been even more! But at least you get to see a pretty cool Battle of the Bands happen in the middle of a public street, which is great.

Ooh, and apparently all the lyrics (except obviously the English ones) come from Li Bai poems? There's a neat bit of history for you!

5. Prestige Television ... with all the bullshit that implies

So much about the filmmaking in Longest Day in Chang'an is deliberate. This show is an actual carefully built, carefully segmented narrative where each episode has a reason to be its own episode, complete with abstract little teaser at the end of each one.

If you are a fan of Asian dramas (and if you're following this account, I'm assuming you are), you know that this is not always the case. I bet you know well the experience of trying to share a beloved series with someone, only to wind up white-knuckling as you pray you don't lose them during the janky parts.

The Longest Day in Chang'an is not one of those where the quality is going to turn off the unexperienced. It is, as I've said about Beyond Evil and What Did You Eat Yesterday?, a series that can be handled by Your Average American Television Enjoyer Who Can Handle Subtitles. It's got a very Western narrative logic to it -- which it should, considering that the idea behind it was literally "24, but in ancient China." It is so engrossing that the odds are pretty good you won't even notice how the core whodunnit plot falls completely apart at the end. (Which, yeah, it does. More on that in a moment.)

Now, you do have to suspend a fair amount of disbelief when people travel distances in artificially little time, or hear about something that just happened on the other side of the city. (A lot of this suspension of disbelief is necessitated by how hard this is trying to mimic 24, and by how much you cannot mimic both the scope and the urgency of 24 in a world without cell phones.) But whatever! This is what I mean about the video-game logic of it -- sometimes you just have to move people and ideas from one place to another, and to hell with the practicalities of it. Characters have to walk their way all across town when the plot calls for something to happen while they're doing that walk, and when the plot doesn't, they get to fast-travel a bit.

Look, I'm a simple product of the US public school system. My academic expertise is in a completely different ancient part of the world. I almost entirely lack historical context for what I'm seeing here. I have almost no pre-existing opinions on eighth-century Chinese dynasties. A lot of the characters in this are (or are almost) real people (as @tendaysofrain, @endlessthoughtsofafangirl, and @siumerghe have explained, thank you all for that!), and nearly all of that was completely lost on me while I was watching.

However, the show mostly manages to hold on by giving you the basics and trusting that's enough to go on. And you know, most of the time, it is! I didn't read any of those posts about who the real people were until I was done with the show, and I don't feel I gained a huge amount of plot-clarifying information from finally knowing the historical antecedents. (This is not always the case with shows by this writer -- I'm looking at you, Wind Blows from Longxi.)

There's also a bunch of other named, recurring characters running around, making Zhang Xiaojing's long day better and worse in equal measure. The show does a great job of making you care about them too, which is good, because they pop in and out of the plot all the time -- and every one of their actors turns in a stellar performance. Seriously, I can't think of a single cast member who was a dud. Sure, some of them are hamming it up a bit, but it's obviously in response to some very deliberate instructions from the director. No one feels like they've been given a task they can't live up to.

In choosing the pictures to include in this rec post, I've been intentional in leaving out images of several characters, especially the antagonists. Partly this is because people's allegiances change and I don't want to spoil anything. But also, you should experience the eye-watering hotness yourself, in context. Not to be a lesbian but, &c.

That's another thing I like about the show -- a whole lot of everyone is attractive, but in real actual-person ways. They look like people you'd meet in real life instead of posed models that have been airbrushed within an inch of their lives. Only one character looks like he's fresh off the assembly line at the boy-band factory, and that's the boy-twink, who is fresh off the assembly line at the boy-band factory, and you know what? It's perfect for his character. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast collectively inhabits a wide range of diverse places on the fuckablity spectrum, and it's great. Whatever your horny tastes are, this drama's probably got something to match them.

Is the Longest Day in Chang'an what you would get if you rolled together Die Hard and like three different Assassin's Creed games, dressed it in hanfu, threw a shocking amount of money at it, and aired it on HBO? ...I mean, yeah, basically. If that description sounds at all like a wild good time to you, then you should absolutely come sink your teeth into this beauty. It's the most fun you can have while trying to stop some really hot people from assassinating an emperor with a spectacularly over-the-top Rube Goldberg machine.

...God, she's about to say something about the ending again, isn't she?

Of course I'm going to say something (incredibly vague) about the ending. You know this by now. Skip to the bottom if you don't care.

Okay, so the first time I heard about this show was from my older colleague, born and raised in Shanghai, who told me that it was very beautiful, but that many people had problems with the ending, because they did not find it believable when one of the hero characters turned out to be on the bad-guy side of the story. And that was literally all the information I had going into it.

Well, now I've seen it for myself -- and I've had it explained to me that apparently there were a lot of last-minute changes made so that the internet did not guess where the story was going. If you know Game of Thrones, you know that's the kind of bullshit that made the end of Game of Thrones legendarily shitty. This doesn't go quite that badly for this drama, but it definitely makes it so you have to stop caring about the larger machinations behind the whole terrorist plot by the end. There's so much BUT WHO WAS BEHIND IT??? hollering throughout the show, and you can tell it's going somewhere, and then it gives a complete non-answer while yet another thing semi-anachronistically explodes. The end!

I return as ever to my stance that if you know a show is going to disappoint you, you paradoxically cannot be disappointed by it. Appreciate it for what it is, don't get too invested in the idea that it will come together at the end like some genius jigsaw puzzle, and have a delightful time! I know I did.

Ready for a day trip?

It's not surprising that a big-budget piece like this turns up several places. Apple TV, Viki (how we watched it), and YouTube have it for streaming, and Prime Video has it for purchase. Viki doesn't translate the episode titles for some reason, though, so be sure you're following along with those somewhere else, because they're meaningful enough I wish we hadn't missed them.

They're also apparently making a Longest Day in Chang'an 2? Or they've been teasing it for the last three years, anyway, so maybe it'll exist someday? Eh, I'm not holding my breath.

I'm a bit startled by how little fandom there is for this show -- AO3's got 263 works listed for it, and when you sort it by English, that cuts results to 46 (except it's really 35 because 11 of those are labeled as being in English when they clearly aren't). I can't recall ever seeing it mentioned on Tumblr without my going looking for it. I'm expecting this rec post will get maybe a dozen reblogs before it peters off into nothing. And that's a shame, because I think this is a very fun show that has lots of potential for fandom goo to stick to it! So come join me and make some English-language nonsense about it!

Taste the Tang-y rainbow.

#the longest day in chang'an #长安十二时辰 #rec post #i made this

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masked-menace · 2 years ago

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just saw your recent post and: simon riley and sex pollen 🤭

him being like “no it’s immoral for me to do this” but his body’s saying otherwise teehee 🤭

No because LISTEN! Simon Daddy Ghost Riley would be SO CONCERNED ABOUT going too hard. He would be so desperate to fuck you but so worried about hurting you. He would be telling you to leave while holding you close to him.

Thank you to my sweet sweet Persia for talking with me about this one shot. <3

CW: DubCon (for obvious reasons), Degrading, praising, Female reader,

Normally when the guys come home from a mission there is a de-brief. Not an official one, it's you guys sitting in a circle and talking about it. Though this time you knew something was up. Price went straight to his office, locking the door. Soap and Gaz were cackling and laughing their asses off. No one informed you of what had happened. You knew though Ghost out of all would. He had a way of remaining scarily stoic during tense situation

That isn't exactly what happened though. You had knocked on his door and didn't get a response. Though you could hear the straining and the noises coming from the other side. The grunts and whines. Your cheeks flushed red at the realization of what you were hearing only it got worse when you heard your name whimpered out. That was when you knocked again. Harder. Louder. There was a more pained groan and then footsteps. Why did you do that? What did you have planned when he opened the door?

The door swings open. His balaclava still remained on his face, though he was shirtless and had the door blocking more than half of his body though you still saw the jeans. The band of his boxers.

"Gaz and Soap told me to come see you...that you could tell me what happened?" You asked

He sighed opening the door and basically pulling you inside. Your breathe hitched and your heart skipped a couple of vital beats.

"Sick of sense humor they have" He grinds out, you look up at him. The way his eyes glance over you, with what you heard brings a heat to your stomach you were used to. A flip here and a flop there with every flick of his eyes. Inhaling the scent of his room, the cologne and the wintergreen gum, the faint smell of tobacco that lingered on some of his clothes.

"What happened?" You asked softly

"Bastards were throwing vials at random. Airborne one got to Price and I" He grinds out his fingers twitches at his side. Fighting the urge to kiss you. To push you against this wall and make pretty noises come out your pretty mouth.

"Which one?" You ask, though by his reaction. By his demeanor you were sure you knew. He was less skilled at hiding the heavy lidded gaze under it. Though he was barely hiding it before.

"Sex Pollen. Bloody shit can give you a heart attack" He says sighing, you nod and blink up at him.

"Not if you....release" You struggle to say it because you know what it i insinuating and you can the tilt in his head. The slight arch of his right brow.

"You offering a hand darlin?" He asks narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. It has you gulping, tugging lightly on your bottom lip and backing up from him. The gaze seemingly controlling your actions.

"Maybe not just my hand" You say, he groans a little matching each one of your steps with one of his own until you were flush with the wall. Then with him.

"You really shouldn't have come here right now" He says his hand tracing the skin of your neck and then your shoulder. His thumb moving across your collar bone. Sending shivers down your body.

"I just wanted to know what happened" You say, it's true. Though now you found yourself wanting something so much more. "Wanted to know how you were feeling"

He chuckles softly his thumb reaching your chin and he holds it, pointing your gaze up at him.

"How I'm feeling? I am feeling like I want to fuck you against this wall until I can't anymore. I am feeling like if you don't leave my barracks, right fuckin now. I might" He warns, yet you can't move. You aren't sure you even want to.

When you don't move his grabs onto you a little tighter, pressing against you, the warmth of his naked abdomen makes your brain short circuit. The hitched breath you pull in does the same to him.

"Darlin, last chance" He warns, yet all you do meet his eyes once again and put a hand on his chest. Not enough to push him away, more inviting than that. "Fucking hell"

The way he presses his hand to your neck, pressing you tight against the wall as he rips off his mask. Pure need and the pollen taking over every thought in his brain. His lips smashing into yours. Pulling a groan and a whimper from each of you. You practically melt against him. His heat, the heaviness of his hand on your throat. The way his other hand feels up your side and grips you tightly when he reaches your hips. It is all so dizzying. The way he presses his almost rock solid cock into you.

"You knew exactly what you wanted didn't you? The moment I opened that bloody door I could practically see it written all over that beautiful fucking face" his whispered to you, his hand on your throat unmoving. His lips touching your jawline. The hand on your hip moving to the button of your jeans. His hand works like it has unbuttoned jeans by itself countless times. "Kick of your shoes. Now"

You listened and he watches you drop another inch or so. Your Combat boots always made you look taller and even when you weren't on mission you wore them with your day to day uniform. He smirks down at you. You take time to take in the features of his face before kissing you again. Slipping his tongue between your lips.

His hand moving to your waistband but you are already aiding him in removing the pants. Which causes a chuckle to vibrate lowly from his throat.

"You knew exactly...what you were fucking doing" He groans against your lips. His hand releasing from your throat. As you kick off the pants his hands slowly trace down to cup your ass. Gripping it tightly and kissing along your collar bone. Soft groans and moans escape his lips as your hands tug on his jeans. Opening the front of it up. He practically chokes on a gasp when your finger grazes his dick from under his boxers.

"Fucking hell" He groans, it's like a sudden whoosh of air and then you were moved. Practically thrown on the bed watching as he moves on top of you. Kissing your lips roughly and trailing those adding in some nips at your skin as he lowers himself. "I need just a taste. I need it."

He devours you. He was indeed lying when he said he just needed a small taste because on the first touch of his tongue the moan that released from this man proved nothing but a new addiction for him. With that new addiction the man was devouring you. Fucking into his fist occasionally. The first orgasm snuck up on you, you hadn't been tensing or egging it on. It just washed over you. Your back arching and your hand moving to the nearest grip of blanket. White knuckling it as your sounds bounced off the walls.

"You sound so fucking good for me love" He groans "Need to be in you. Can't wait any longer" He says with a growl getting onto his knees on the bed. Grabbing your hips and angling you to align with his cock. The first rut against your entrance has you both whimpering. You because you feel the head on his cock spreading you and it was the most delicious stretch you had ever had.

Him because you felt like a walking wet dream. You felt like everything he thought you would and the curses that leave his breath as he slowly pushed into you would have made a sailor retire. Not blush. Retire.

"Oh fuck you feel good" He moans, punctuating each word with a new rut as he pushes himself further. Finally sinking to to the hilt. "Fuck"

Each thrust is almost like a body slam, it leaves you slamming a hand over your mouth and moaning loudly into the palm of your hand. Looking up at the man, his veins on his arms standing out slightly, his hands gripping your hips. His face pulled into pleasure as he fucks into you.

"Gho-fuck" You tried to say his name. Though the slam of another thrusts makes you stutter.

"No no-Simon fuck darlin call me Simon" He grunts as he picks up his pace.

"Si-Simon" You moans through the stuttering of his hips and your brain. Your thought process. The moment the name leaves his thrusts get faster. Moving your leg, resting it against his body, your toes resting near his ear as he ruts into you.

His fingers move to your folds, sliding through the silky feel of them, sending jolts of pleasure to you which slowly meld into the pleasure of his thrusts. Though both unravelling you. The moans escaping your lips were almost as lewd as the sound of your bodies smacking together. The wetness from you getting all over both of your groins and thighs. Your moans turning more and more wanton has he continues to play with your already aching clit.

The ball of pleasure that has been wound so tight you could barely even think of anything else feels moments from bursting. He notices this, chuckling to himself once again.

"Oh fuck I can feel you're about to fucking cum. The way you fucking clench around me. Fucking... hell love. Fucking do it. I need to feel it." He urges you

"I want to last longer" You whined

"It won't be your last. Now fucking cum" He demands moving a hand to your throat. Tightening the grip enough to make you dizzy. The orgasm ripping through you at the same time. Strained moans an whines falling from your lips as you feel the entire wave of it crashing onto you. "Fuck oh fuck- Good fucking girl."

He didn't last too long after that. Though the thrusts turn more aggressive if that was possible. His hand snaking to your hair and pulling it to a point where he could adjust your face as he pleases.

"Look at me, I need to see those pretty fucked out eyes when I fucking cum" He groans you moaned at his words. Your face screwing into pleasure at his words alone. Every thrust was sending stars across your vision. Rising until another hard orgasm slams into you. His noises mixing with yours had you white knuckling the sheets some more. He topples over digging his fingertips so far into your hips you know there will be bruises. His body slams turning sloppy and he grinds into you further.

"Oh fuck...fucking take it" he moaned punctuation of the words followed by grinds. You could feel as he pumps inside of you. Your legs are shaking from the aftershock of the pleasure. Whimpers falling from your lips.

"Jesus Simon...your dick is fucking lethal" You deadpanned. He is panting and smirks

"Don't think I am done with you yet." He tells you

Fuck was he telling you the truth. He was far from done with you. Though he meant it in other ways than just for the night. You two fucked like this for hours. Until your body could not take anymore. you could barely move from the strain each orgasm had. Your eyelids heavy. Simon laying beside you stroking your hair with his fingers as you were falling asleep.

"Not how I wanted our first time to be." He admits, you smiled weakly at him. "Can't say I didn't enjoy it though love. Christ, you have kryptonite between your legs."

"I try" You breathe

You both had fallen asleep and chosen the next day to talk about what he meant. It was a strange beginning, but a beginning.

#pleasekillme #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #kinktober

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itstokkii · 1 year ago

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finally, some aph uzb headcanons

i realize i've done some korea, amekor, and turkuzbek hcs but i've never actually done one of my blorbo uzbekistan. so thats changing right now

- she's of average uzbek woman height(167cm) and her hair is that shade of brown that looks almost black, but when the sunlight hits just right it looks like a faint shade of auburn. you know, that kind of hair shade.

- her name is "nargiza" which translates to "narcissus flower" or "daffodil." her close friends and family(and turkey too ig 🙄) call her nargiz for short.

- her hobbies are embroidery and quiltmaking with tajikistan, trying out new desserts to bake, reading, gossiping, piano playing and knitting(she picked up both from russia), drinking hot black tea in even hotter weather(she's a tea elitist and Will Not Consider iced tea to be part of the tea category)

- best cook. she's the best cook out of the central asians and they always try to have her cook dinner("it just hits different when you cook food for us apa")

- she has a resting scary/angry face. she looks like she's about to kill someone. but when you ask her a question she'll immediately smile and won't hesitate to help you in whatever way she can.

- has the best relationship with kazakhstan and tajikistan. though sometimes she has a habit of babying kazakhstan as an older sister. old habits from the uzbek khanate die hard i guess...

- has a weird relationship with uyghurstan, and they have a few very awkward phone calls per year. if you heard the minutes of silence sandwiched in between their conversations you'd experience second hand embarrassment.

- her relations with iran are interesting. she adopted persian as the official and court language of the bukharan khanate. but she's also tried to take parts of iran's land a few times. for a while iran even exerted control over the bukharan khanate for a few years by persian ruler nader shah until he died. there's been a lot of cultural exchange from iran to uzbekistan historically, and uzbekistan is also considered a part of the greater iran region(maybe i should give her the ahoge...). nowruz, for example, is a holiday that came from persia and is celebrated in the central asian countries, especially tajikistan and uzbekistan.

- she...doesn't like russia. not at all. it's one of the few things she and kyrgyzstan both agree on, and they've both fantasized about throwing themselves at him like rabid dogs for a while(kyrgyzstan was more serious about it, and uzbekistan had to stop him) but after her independence she had to suck up to him due to her economic reliance on him. recently, though, she's been moving away from russia in favor of spotting economic opportunities within uzbekistan that will help with self-growth(and also reaching out to turkey and china for mutual trading)

- she's not the most developed nation out there, but is still very prissy about her overall appearance. she knows how to clean up. don't even get me started on the things she wears to weddings. she isn't worried about competition because she IS the competition.

- at home, she'll wear the usual stuff you'd see an uzbek mom wear, a matching dress and pants cut from atlas fabric. she'll have a small scarf wrapped around her hair to pull it back, and has her hair up in a ponytail, bun, or braids.

- when she's out, she wears perfectly coordinated outfits every single time, hair and makeup perfectly done.

- dont be fooled though. she Will wear the definitely fake chanel sweaters and slippers with pride.

- she fake smiles a lot and tries to stop her habit of having a resting scary face. even though that's her default, she's gotten a lot of flack from old ladies throughout the centuries for it.

- generally, she's not a super expressive, bubbly person(that's her sister tajikistan). she's fine with small talk(and DEFINITELY gossiping) but depending on who it is and whether they're in her social circle or not, she'll either enjoy it or hate every agonizing second of it. When you ask about her house though, she'll tell you everything with a certain sparkle in her eyes.

- if you want her to go through all 44 feelings at once and watch her freak out and overheat like an old gaming PC just bring up turkey i guess

- to get into her social circle takes a lot of time and a lot of waiting for her to open up and talk about personal things. Think maybe...20 years at the very least.

- leading into the other headcanon of her being a little insecure. throughout the years, the uber-collectivist society of uzbekistan caused her to become more and more hyperaware of her actions and how others will think about them. the one exception is that she can't hide her disappointment.

- her predecessors are the khwarazmian empire and timurid empire. she barely knew the khwarazmian empire as uzbekistan was born as one of the few tribes to emerge after khwarazmi was engulfed by the mongols.

- she was old enough to remember timurid, however. he was like her older brother, albeit one with...skewed moral values. he'd always insist that this was all to rekindle the empire that the great genghis khan left behind, and to spread islam as a religion.

"besides," he'd add, "isn't samarqand looking absolutely beautiful lately?"

"yes, because you kidnapped the best artisans and craftsmen after looting their cities." she deadpanned.

- she was quite surprised(and impressed, by a sliver) when her brother managed to successfully siege ankara and cause a civil war in the ottoman empire. she knew timurid was growing, but she had no idea he got this strong. it almost didn't seem surprising when he announced his plans to go after china, before he died(and then respawned as the mughal empire, but that's another story.)

- "russia when i catch you russia" - uzbekistan since the 1870s

- she has a house in tashkent and bukhara, but mostly lives in tashkent now that it's the capital. since she's literally the center of central asia and borders everyone including afghanistan, they all stay at her house when traveling(turkey is stuck at a hotel whenever he visits tho...)

- her spice tolerance? dont even ask. its not there. completely gone. give her a little heinz chili sauce and she's scrambling to find water.

- once korea took her out on a date to a korean restaurant. one bite of the kimchi and it was over for her

- if you ever come over to her house, she'll spoil you with food and gifts. there will be a drama series playing on her tv as you two chat for hours. when you leave expect it to be about 8 hours after you arrived and for the walk home to be extremely heavy as she gives you 3 bags full of gifts and dried fruits and desserts.

#tokki writes #hws uzbekistan #aph uzbekistan #hetalia

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arioloyal · 2 years ago

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[[Sepandarmazgan]](King baldwin iv x reader)])

Part2

[Jerusalem- 1182]

Sibylla's pov:

I wasn't there the day that the young traveler appeared on my brother's path with her long hair and strange black clothes. I had gone outside Jerusalem with some of my companions to meet balian. When I came back, I realized that the story of my younger brother's acquaintance with that stranger has become a new topic for any conversation.

All the people were asking one thing: who is this girl who is not known where she came from?, what is her origin?, how come the king of the holy land took her seriously and almost bowed to her?...

Since I have been used to seeing everyone bow to my brother since childhood, I never thought that one day he would bow to someone as a sign of respect. He only bowed in supplication before the statue of Jesus during worship, not before lesser and ordinary persons. That's why I didn't believe what I heard. But when I returned, Raymond confirmed the matter, and as I've never heard such a loyal person tell a lie till this day, I was forced to believe that Baldwin had kissed the stranger's hand at court, in front of everyone.

Besides, as Tiberias said, this uninvited guest who seems to be y/n of Persia, is destined to stay with us from now on.

Who is this stranger who suddenly came down from the heaven with a basket and just appeared in front of him? I wanted to look for her and see her with my own eyes. As soon as I saw Tiberias, I asked him: "Then why can't this girl be found?"

Tiberias silenced me by whispering: "Shh...his majesty and Lady y/n have gone to that bedchamber and closed all the doors."

From a distance, their voices sounded like whispers, but it was impossible to understand what they were saying. I was going that way when Tiberias stopped me again.

:"You better wait Sibylla, they don't want to be disturbed."

Guy de lusignan's pov:

...the long days in Jerusalem are not easily over. But they did not come out, the next day was the same, the next day again...how many words did they already have to talk to each other? What could the king of Jerusalem have in common with an ordinary person?

...One week passed, another week was the same... The servants and physicians lined up behind together every day and left the that leper's medicine , fresh bandages and food behind it and left. Although every day more delicious food was cooked than the day before, baldwin and y/n seemed to eat nothing but a piece of wheat bread and a bowl of milk and left the rest behind the door.

The order of the court was messed up. Every day that passed, I became more nervous and curious; I'm always calm, but this time it was different. At different hours of the day, I would stick my eyes to the door and look inside the room. I eavesdropped tirelessly every day. What if this girl knows about the caravan that Reynald and I robbed? as that orange-colored traitor said: "You should be afraid of famous people"...

But in any case, I did not see anything special. The curtains were drawn halfway. Except for the few words I stole in the air, the only thing I could hear was endless whispers. When there is nothing to see or hear, a person starts to fantasize in his mind. Maybe something has happened to the girl...

Once, Sibylla surprised me while I was listening to the door. she was angry and surprised. I think she also came here out of curiosity and wanted to know what kind of long story this is. Honestly, women are naturally curious. they can't help it.

My princess's eyes became like wild cats and she whispered her words in my face angrily.

:"You have no right to eavesdrop here. Since when did you worry about your king? You are not even allowed to enter this corridor."

Thank God I always keep my excuses in my pockets already: "Your lover now has the support of your brother. I have thousands of Knights and Templars at my disposal, and I have the power to do anything without his permission, but before that, I must remind the king that I am asking for your hand in marriage, otherwise your son's rule will be nothing but destruction... I came to talk to him, but it seems he has a beloved guest who never gets tired of being with her almost a month everyday..." I don't know why, but suddenly I laughed at the thought of it. wondering what just happened there...

(To be continued...)

#kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven 2005 #the leper king #art #artists on tumblr #movies #fandom #quotes #imagine #fanfic #fan fiction #pov #x reader #reader insert

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salmontooth · 1 year ago

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An older piece I had done but didn't want to post until I finished the fic I wrote for it (I'll post it to A03 later)! I wanted to have Ghassan and Dad-aban having a moment while Sargon got some much needed rest before the Tower of Silence

As always, thank you to @gryffintheparrotcat and @kaihoney <3

PLEASE heed the warnings listed before the fic! I hope you enjoy!

WORDCOUNT: 3,225

SPOILERS FOR “PRINCE OF PERSIA: THE LOST CROWN”

WARNINGS: Slight descriptions of gore, suicide ideation (only for one paragraph!), mentions of child abuse/neglect, self-hatred, implied sexual content (past!)

“You need to rest.”

Sargon looked over to Ghassan, and his gaze softened. “I will be fine once we get back to the Haven. There’s a Wak Wak there that’ll patch me up.”

Ghassan didn’t like that answer, but every time he voiced his concern, Sargon would just repeat his reply:

“I’m fine, the Wak Wak will heal me.”

“It looks bad, I know, but it’s nothing that damn tree can’t fix.”

“Ghassan, I know you’re worried, but I’ll manage until we get to the Haven.”

“Look, I survived worse.”

Ghassan figured asking a mockingbird to change its tune was pointless so he continued the rest of the journey in silence, taking note how Sargon limped with every step and the slower reaction times to enemies. He dispatched what few hostiles they ran into with no issue of course, but Ghassan knew that Sargon was faster than this. The Rashabar was exhausted.

By the time Sargon announced that they had arrived at the Haven, Ghassan was ready to tie down the warrior himself and force him to take a break, if only for a few minutes. As they passed an open tent with an elderly woman brandishing an impressive-looking stick, a small girl bounded up to Sargon and planted herself in front of him. Ghassan watched as Sargon’s determined expression melted into fondness and he stopped his march.

“Sargon!” the girl exclaimed. “You’re back!” She then took notice of Ghassan standing behind him. “Oh! Is this the prince you were looking for?”

Sargon chuckled. “Yes, he is. Ghassan, this Fariba.” He gestured to the girl. “Fariba, this is Ghassan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Fariba,” Ghassan said, smiling through his concern for Sargon.

“Likewise!” Fariba returned, before squinting at the ex-prince. She then got a devious grin on her face. “You were right Sargon: he is handsome! I can see why you like him so much-!”

“ALRIGHT! We gotta get to the Wak Wak. So, goodbye Fariba!” Sargon blurted out, stopping Fariba from finishing her sentence, but the damage had been done, and Ghassan could see the blush creeping up Sargon’s shoulders and into his cheeks. Ghassan gave a small chuckle, and Sargon whipped around to glare at him, as if to say, “Dammit, don’t encourage her!”

Fariba giggled and bounded away, Ghassan hearing her shrill voice beginning to pester the old woman in the tent. He turned to Sargon and murmured, “You think I’m handsome?”

Sargon groaned. “I should’ve just left you at the Simurgh’s Gate.”

That got a laugh out of Ghassan and they continued deeper into the Haven. There, in the middle of a platform, stood a golden tree. It was modestly sized, and as the leaves swayed in the gentle breeze, the gentle notes of windchimes could be heard. Sargon’s gait picked up noticeably, and he quickly limped his way over. Ghassan stood back, watching as the Rashabar pressed a hand into the glowing bark. Golden ribbons of light danced down from the leaves, caressing Sargon’s body. The warrior sighed and leaned his head against the bark as well, and Ghassan watched with a morbid curiosity as Sargon’s wounds knitted themselves back together. Sargon only flinched once as a deeper wound on his arm stitched itself together, gritting his teeth and forcing a breath out. Finally, the light faded and Sargon stood up a little straighter. The injuries were gone, but not the bone-deep exhaustion, and Ghassan could see it.

“See?” Sargon turned to Ghassan, extending his arms to show that there were no injuries hiding. “I’m fine.”

“Physically, yes,” Ghassan agreed, but his tone turned hard. “But mentally? If your clothing has anything to say, it would seem you have been running yourself ragged.” He waved a hand over Sargon’s state of dress. He was caked in dirt and blood and Simurgh knows what else. The cuts and scrapes had no evidence of existing, but the blood was still there, dried onto Sargon’s skin. “Have you let yourself rest?”

Sargon opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut, thinking twice.

That would be a no then.

“I don’t have time,” Sargon argued, annoyance beginning to seep into his tone. “Every moment I waste is just more time for Vahram to reach the Simurgh’s heart.”

“There won’t be any time if you keep going like this!” Ghassan countered.

“Orod and Menolias were counting on me to make this right.”

“Then they would have died for nothing if you perish on your way up the tower!”

Sargon stilled at that, a distant look glazing over his eyes. Sargon didn’t show emotions easily, but Ghassan could see that he had struck a raw nerve. He sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Ghassan murmured, edging closer to Sargon. The Rashabar didn’t move. “That was unfair of me. But Sargon….” Ghassan reached out a hand and gently squeezed Sargon’s bicep. “Please rest; if not for yourself, then for me.”

Sargon had a conflicted look to him, and Ghassan sighed. He took Sargon’s hands and led him to the wall nearest to them. He let go and he sat himself down, leaning against the brick. “Alright, down here.”

Sargon raised an eyebrow before he realized what Ghassan was offering, and he blushed once more. “Nafasam, I can’t-”

“You can and you will.” Ghassan left no room for argument. Then in a softer tone: “Please…”

Sargon looked embarrassed as Ghassan continued to hold out his arms to him. “Come on.”

The Rashabar looked over his shoulder to where Fariba had run off to and then back to Ghassan. Slowly, he lowered himself down and into Ghassan’s lap, resting his head against the other man’s chest. It was awkward, but soon Sargon began to curl around Ghassan’s body, and, blessedly, relax. The prince wrapped his arms around the exhausted warrior, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into Sargon’s skin.

Sargon still had a tenseness to his frame, and Ghassan sighed. “You’re safe,” he whispered, making sure only Sargon could hear him. “You’ve done such a great job; you deserve to rest. I’ll be here when you wake. I promise.” Whatever spell Ghassan had cast, it worked quickly. Sargon’s body slowly relaxed in his hold, and his breathing began to even itself out. Then, suddenly, Sargon was dead weight, and Ghassan had to maneuver both of them in order to sit comfortably against the wall.

Ghassan leaned his head against the wall, but let out a growl when his crown hit the rock, the metal making a clinking noise of displeasure. With a frustrated groan, Ghassan tore off the trapping, and had to stop himself from throwing it across the room, instead, opting to place it gently down at his side. He knew his anger and frustration would do nothing. If anything, it would succeed in making him look like a child throwing a tantrum…

Just… so much had happened. It was a normal night, but then Anahita came and ruined it. Or maybe, it was Thomyris’s fault? Either way, now he was stuck on a cursed mountain with the threat of a new, vengeful god being born. On top of that, his mother is a usurper, and his whole life a lie, and he now had limited allies willing to help him. He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead into Sargon’s.

“Rough day?”

Ghassan’s eyes shot open and swiveled his head to the voice. There stood one of the Immortals – Artaban, Ghassan remembered- with a knowing look in his eye.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Prince Ghassan.”

Ghassan let out a humorlessly laugh. “Please… don’t call me ‘prince’, Master Artaban.” The older man gave him a weird look, so Ghassan continued: “Thomyris usurped the throne. I am not the rightful heir.”

Artaban nodded. “Did Sargon tell you that?”

“Of course,” Ghassan met Artaban with a challenging glare. “Are you implying that Sargon had lied?”

Artaban gave a chuckle and slowly sat down next to Ghassan and a slumbering Sargon. “Oh, of course not,” he reassured, his hands creeping to his mask and beginning to fidget with the golden metal. “The kid can’t lie; he’s horrible at it. The sky would sooner fall than Sargon purposely lying to someone.”

Something gave a metallic click, and Artaban gave a sigh of relief as he gently pulled away the mask covering half of his face. Ghassan tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to notice the ruined flesh and gnarled scars that adorned the left side of Artaban’s face. He quickly turned his gaze away when the Immortal tilted his head to get a better view of Ghassan. He must be blind in that one eye…

“How did you get him to sleep?” Artaban asked, his rough voice dragging Ghassan out of his thoughts. The ex-prince looked down to Sargon, who hadn’t moved at all.

“By telling him that if he died of exhaustion before stopped Vahram, that Orod and Menolias would have died for nothing,” Ghassan answered, and then met Artaban’s gaze. “I am so sorry about your loss.”

Artaban squeezed his eye shut, trying to compose himself. “I am too, Ghassan. They were good men. Loyal to a fault….”

“You don’t blame Sargon?”

“Of course not. Sargon had no choice; he was forced to defend himself.”

Ghassan nodded. It was a self-defense situation. One that had disastrous consequences.

“He talks about you a lot.”

Ghassan looked to Artaban. “He talks about me?”

The older man chuckled. “Of course. You have been his driving force this entire time. He explained to you what happens in the original timeline?” When Ghassan nodded, Artaban went quiet for a moment. Then: “He was destroyed when you died. He was so upset to have survived the fall into the Depths. From what he had told me and what I had been able to gather from Fariba, he was planning on joining you if there wasn’t a way to reverse fate.”

Both sat in contemplative silence, the only sounds being the windchimes from the Wak Wak Tree and Sargon’s sleep-heavy breathing. Sargon… Sargon was planning on taking his own life if Ghassan couldn’t be saved? The Rashabar, the Black Wind that destroys all in his path, had given up as soon as Ghassan was gone? Somehow the news of Sargon planning on taking his own life shook him more than learning about his own death.

“I didn’t know that,” Ghassan murmured dumbly, not really knowing what to say.

“I didn’t expect you to know that,” Artaban reassured. “Sargon isn’t one to divulge his emotions. But I can read him. Hell, I helped raise him when he became an Immortal, of course I can read him. And I had never seen him more determined before.” The Immortal looked to Ghassan; a cheeky look descending on his face. “I noticed that Sargon had stopped calling you ‘prince’ before we even got to this mountain.”

“I had asked him not to,” Ghassan replied.

“Did you tell him to call you nafasam instead?”

Ghassan sat up straight, embarrassment painting his face red, and he pointedly avoided Artaban’s azure stare. “No, not directly…”

Artaban chuckled. There was a beat of silence before: “You love him too, don’t you?”

Whatever walls Ghassan had spent a lifetime erecting around his personal life and feelings came crashing down at the sound of Artaban’s sincere tone. Perhaps it was how Sargon trusted this man; enough so to call him father.

“Yes,” Ghassan said, no hesitation in his answer. “I do. I love him so much it physically hurts.” He sighed and looked down at Sargon. There were new scars on his face; the Rashabar had explained them away with his fight with Vahram and his fall into the Depths. What worried Ghassan the most was the stab wound in his shoulder. It looked like the Wak Wak tree had stopped the worst of bleeding but the wound was still gaping and raw. Sargon blamed it again on Vahram, and it pained Ghassan to think of it scarring over, a permanent reminder of his leader’s betrayal. He looked back to Artaban. “I love him too much.”

Artaban nodded, and gave a knowing chuckle. “I knew it. You two have something going for each other.” Ghassan narrowed his eyes in confusion, and the Immortal rolled his eye in mock annoyance. “Don’t think I didn’t see both of you sneak off after the ceremony on the last two nights, and with Sargon coming back drunk off something that was not alcohol. Not to mention the bruising on his neck and abdomen.”

Ghassan felt a new wave of blush crash over him and he quickly adverted eye contact again as Artaban gave a laugh. It was boisterous but not loud enough to wake Sargon. Not that it would’ve; the poor Rashabar was dead to the world around him.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, son,” Artaban placed a hand on Ghassan’s shoulder. “Next time, just be a little more conspicuous about it, lest the Queen sees.”

Ghassan scoffed at that. “I couldn’t give a damn as to what she sees.”

Artaban gave a grunt of agreement. Then: “What comes next?”

Ghassan sighed. “I… I don’t know. I honestly have only been thinking about surviving this horrible mountain. I haven’t really had time to think of what I will say to my mo- Thomyris when I see her again. If I see her again.”

“I cannot imagine the choice that lies before you, son,” Artaban said gently, “but I have faith you will do the right thing.”

“What is the right thing?” Ghassan asked, his voice desperate for any kind of guidance. He was taught Persian trading policies and how to rule a country. He had no idea on how to move on from this.

Artaban shrugged, not callously. “I don’t know, Ghassan. But I do know Sargon will be behind you, no matter what. As will I and Neith.” He chuckled. “She has also had enough of this bullshit.”

Ghassan huffed out a breath in amusement, before his face fell back into a frown. “We could keep this a secret; that Thomyris usurped the throne, but the people deserve better. It’s been thirty years of plague with her as queen. I think the gods were punishing us…”

“Punishing her.” Artaban corrected. “Ghassan, this isn’t your fault. You were born into this misery; you had no choice. And, with how Thomyris rules with an iron fist, I doubt there would’ve been much that you could��ve done to help undo the damage she had caused.” Artaban lowered his voice. “Son, I’ve heard the rumors about her striking you. About her neglecting you.”

Ghassan swallowed thickly, a weird sense of fear washing over him. No, you can relax, his inner voice soothed. He’s safe. Sargon trusts him. So can you.

“They aren’t rumors, sir,” Ghassan murmured, not making eye contact with the other man.

Artaban let out a sad sigh. “I feared as much.”

“I don’t want to go back to that. To her, sir.”

“I understand, son. But,” Artaban made sure Ghassan was looking at him, “you need to go back, to see this through, if only for a little while. Sargon will be with you, and, if you’ve learned anything about him, he will tear Thomyris apart if she tried to lay another hand on you.”

It was comforting to know Sargon would stand in opposition to the queen he had fought wars for. Just for the anxious mess that was the crown prince- now proven a fraud. But, even if Ghassan couldn’t see anything worth protecting about himself, Sargon did. So much so he brokered a deal with the god of chaos to save him. To the point where he was forced to fight his brothers in arms, and where he had had to watch as they took their final breaths, their demises at his hand. To where he was willing to stand against the White Lion of Persia, the man who taught him everything about Immortal life and who had mentored him. Sargon loved him. Sargon loves him. Sargon, one of Persia’s most feared warriors, the Black Wind that destroys everything in his path, loved him. A fraud. Even now with the truth revealed, Sargon still had this undying devotion to him. A devotion that wouldn’t be smothered, no matter the circumstance.

Ghassan was overcome with emotion, and he had to take a few deep breaths to steady himself, lest he start crying in front of an Immortal. Artaban had a sympathetic, understanding look.

“Sargon is a good man,” he whispered on a shaky breath.

Artaban nodded. “Aye… he is. I would take credit for his selflessness, but the Simurgh knows I could’ve never raised a man like that.” He smiled fondly down to Sargon, who was still asleep. “I don’t expect you to make a decision right this instant; think on it and really contemplate, but I hope that knowing that Sargon will stand by your choice makes it easier.” He put a hand on Ghassan’s shoulder. “I believe in you, Ghassan.”

Artaban and Ghassan would sit in comfortable silence for a moment, before the Immortal clicked his mask back on and pushed himself from the wall he was sitting against. He gave Ghassan one last smile before making his way back to the little area he had taken up residence in.

Sargon would sleep for another hour or so, and probably longer if the Rashabar hadn’t gone under with the sense of divine urgency gnawing at his nerves. And Ghassan was there, as he had promised, and ex-prince could see the relief on Sargon’s features as he awoke in the arms of someone he loved.

Of course, it wasn’t as much sleep as Ghassan would’ve liked for Sargon to get, but he knew what was at risk and didn’t push the issue further. At least he had gotten him to rest a least a little.

“We will meet you at the gates of the Hall of Divination,” Ghassan said, handing Qays back to Sargon as the Rashabar maneuvered Layla so he could slide it back into its sheath.

“I will meet you there,” Sargon promised as he took Qays and sheathed it next to Layla. “Please wait for me.”

“Of course…” Ghassan murmured, then, as Sargon began to turn, he shouted, “Sargon, wait!”

The Rashabar stopped and faced Ghassan again. Ghassan launched himself into Sargon’s arms, mindful of the stab wound he had suffered in his shoulder. Sargon, surprised, stepped back at Ghassan’s weight, but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around the ex-prince, holding him tight and close.

Ghassan pulled away and pressed his lips to Sargon’s. The Immortal immediately returned the affection; it was nothing passionate, but it meant more than any intimate kissing.

“I love you, nafasam,” Sargon whispered into Ghassan’s mouth.

“And I love you,” Ghassan murmured back. The two released each other, and, with one last crooked smile to Ghassan, Sargon took off towards the idols that would teleport him closest to the Tower of Silence. In a flash of bright light, he was gone, and Ghassan was left alone with the sounds of the windchimes in the Wak Wak tree.

#prince of persia #prince of persia the lost crown #prince of persia: the lost crown #sargon #my art #sargsan #sargon x ghassan #ghassan

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aceofwhump · 1 year ago

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Ok, this is a weird one and very specific, but recently I rewatched a video of a kpop group where they’re kidnapped and tortured in a desert (pentagon-basquiat, for those interested) and it made me want torture, desert, apocalypse, chained up, etc whump.

So, do you know of any? I prefer shows.

I know the third resident evil movie, the second maze runner, and the kdrama black knight are in the desert, but I was hoping for some more. I know it’s pretty specific so don’t worry about it too much 🙂

Oh that's very specfic lol. Here are some desert related whump I can think of:

Mad Max: Fury Road

Stargate Universe 1x03

Around the World in 80 Days 1x03

This brief scene in Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries Crypt of the Tears

Lucifer 3x01

The Good The Bad and The Ugly

Star Trek Enterprise 1x24

I haven't watched it yet but Dune probably has some stuff for you.

Some other things that happen in a desert: The Mummy, Stargate original movie, Lawrence of Arabia, Prince of Persia, Agents of Shield 3x05.

That's all I've got :)

#mod replies #ask #tropes #desert #desert whump #whump recs

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jeannereames · 1 year ago

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You already wrote it like twice lol so I apologize for bringing it up again… but if you were to rewrite the final scene of Rise once more but from Philippos’s POV… what would you envision his final thoughts to have been when he’s killed? Or, I'm not sure if he would have even been capable of having any by that point, but, for imagination's sake really :)

Below are my thoughts about Philippos’s mindset at the time.

Before I get to that, for anyone wondering what the asker is talking about, my website for Dancing with the Lion has several “out-takes” (scenes cut from the novels), plus a few scenes (and one short story) that take place in the c. 10 months between book 1 and book 2.

Among these is a rewrite of Rise's last scene, originally done in Alexandros’s head, seen from Hephaistion’s POV. (Click image)

(Fair warning, and it probably goes without saying, but while the first set can be read after finishing Becoming, the second set should wait until you’ve finished Rise, as they naturally contain spoilers.)

So, first, at the parade’s start, Philippos would still be irked with Alexandros after their quarrel over (ironically) Pausanias. He said they’d continue the discussion later, after telling Alexandros his choices were about managing difficult personalities, especially when they’re about to be away from Macedon for some years.

Ergo, at the start of the parade, he would’ve been thinking about how to get through to his idealistic child that sometimes full justice must take a back seat to avoiding interminable blood feuds. He’d probably also have been hoping he’d live until Alexandros was more mature. He’d not be thinking assassination, of course. They’re about to embark on a serious military campaign to Persia, and Macedonian kings often died with their boots on. He’s in his mid/late 40s, his leg is lame and he’s not as fast as he used to be. He could fall in battle.

This isn’t overly morbid. These are pretty normal thoughts (ime) for parents of teens, and Alexandros is still, effectively, a teen, even if he just turned 20. You just hope the inevitable blunders of adolescence are none so bad they die before the neurons in their frontal cortexes finish fusing. Not that the Greeks understood adolescent neurology, but they certainly understood teenaged hotheadedness. And Alexandros (and the real Alexander) were more hotheaded than most. After all, how many times did his own bravery almost get him killed?

So that would’ve been on Philippos’s mind in the immediate aftermath of their quarrel, but it wouldn’t be the first time—I’m sure it was a well-worn grove of worry—so he’d have kicked it off once the parade started. After that, right up until the moment he was stabbed, he was having a great morning. It was truly his triumph. That’s the irony of his death … and why Pausanias picked that event.

Historically speaking, it seems he was stabbed in the back, or perhaps from the side, so I doubt he saw it coming—or who stabbed him. Now, we get into a bit of speculation and back to my fictional take. I wrote it so that he died almost immediately. Pausanias was a soldier, and even with a cloak in the way, he could find the heart fairly accurately, I think. (Whether this was true in history, we don’t actually know. The historical Philip may have taken a few minutes to die if Pausanias was off target by an inch or two.)

In any case, the heart is delicate. A direct wound by arrow, sword, spear, knife, bullet is almost always fatal without immediate medical intervention, due to extreme bleeding into the chest cavity. Ergo, shock takes over in under half a minute, more like 15-20 seconds.

In the novel, in those, let’s say, 20 seconds, Philippos was able to call his son’s name, and would have seen Alexandros turn and call him Pappa, reaching for him. The surprise on his son’s face would tell Philippos he wasn’t involved. Philippos would know he was a dead man, so I think it would matter to him that Alexandros wasn’t behind it.

I don’t say in the novel, but Pausanias could have whispered something in his ear at the end. I describe him as right behind the king, one hand on his elbow. Alexandros thinks he’s helping to hold his father up (not realizing the other hand had the knife). And, again, as a soldier, Pausanias would have twisted that knife, once it went in, to be sure, even if he’d hit off center, that it would do maximum damage. Then, of course, he’s off like a shot, shoving Philippos at Alexandros.

Philippos was probably still conscious enough to feel his son grab him and hear him shout, “Get him!” But after that, shock would’ve kicked in and he’d have lost consciousness. He’d look dead to Alexandros (and be as good as).

In reality, the brain still survives for a few minutes even after the heart stops. He’d no doubt have had the “life flashes before your eyes” experience. He might have felt fury at Pausanias, but largely, I think, for interrupting his plans. I suspect his main concern would be the safety of his son and of his kingdom. At the approach of death, things pare down to the most basic and most important. I doubt that included Pausanias except peripherally (probably to Pausanias’s dismay, if he knew).

So that’s my take on what Philippos probably thought at the end.

#asks #Philip of Macedon #assassination of Philip of Macedon #Dancing with the Lion #DwtL #Alexander the Great #historical fiction #ancient Macedonia #Pausanias

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blade-liger-4ever · 1 year ago

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*kicks down door* Catholics of Tumblr, I have a new tag challenge for you!

Choose four individuals from the Bible for your....BIBLICAL A-TEAM!!!!!

Worry not, this is not blasphemous. It is merely a game where we Catholics decide which figures from biblical times would best be suited to dealing with the world's problems today. Tagging @catie-does-things @vitamaeternum @irishironclad, I will show you how to arrange it via my biblical A-Team:

St. Peter the Apostle - Hannibal (he was the first Pope, so it feels right)

St. Paul - B.A. Baracus (let's be honest, Peter was the sword, Paul was the hammer)

St. John the Evangelist - Face (um...I know St. John was the youngest Apostle, but I can't remember if Face was, too)

The prophet Elijah - Howling Mad Murdock (yes, you read that correctly; check under the cut for details pertaining to this choice)

So, that's how we play this game, fellow Catholics! Remember, this is all in good fun, and seeing as some compatriots and I quite enjoyed ourselves with this game, I feel fairly confident in saying this will be a hit. As an additional note, any figure from the Bible can be chosen - man or woman, prophet or king, judge or priest. Heck, I wouldn't fault you if you chose Cyrus the Great of Persia; he was literally the only non-Israelite in history to be named "God's Anointed One", so there's definitely basis if you wanted to choose him as well.

Now, go and have some fun! I leave you with this:

youtube

Bonus for those who were patient, to the best of my recollection:

Friend #2: Elijah can be Howling Mad Murdock.

Me, nearly choking on/spitting out my Coke: WHAT?!?! *proceeds to dissolve into peals of laughter*

Friend #2, beginning to laugh: Well Murdock flies, and Elijah went up in a flaming chariot -

Me: *doubles over and braces arm on hard surface to prevent falling as laughter increases tenfold*

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aphroditelovesu · 2 years ago

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Ok, so I know that there are two other asks from me that you've yet to answer, but I have another thought I'd like to share/get off of my chest. You can ignore it if you want...

Just a heads up, it's kinda dark ⚠️

I would be fucking terrified of Roxanna in Reader's position. We know what she can and will do (case and point Stateira and Parysatis) to get what she wants. And depending on how insecure Reader is, she may secretly fear that Alexander would side with Roxanna if things came to a boiling point (ie attempted poisoning, physical altercation etc). No matter how much Alexander says he loves her and only her, Roxanna is the most beautiful woman in Persia, and their marriage makes more diplomatic sense.

This is going to be really dark, but would your Reader ever consider 'taking care' of Roxanna? It's one thing for Reader to only worry about her own hide, but if there are young children involved, well, that changes everything. There is also the matter of Stateira and Parysatis. You've hinted that Reader will become close with them. Perhaps fearing for her children's safety, and wanting to save her friends from a horrible fate, she decides to act?

Idk, my experiences with bullying during High School would probably compel me to strike before I or those I care about get hurt/killed and my background in biology has taught me a few ways to 'handle things' discreetly. Besides, it's not like they did autopsies over 2000 years ago. Also, Cassander had her and her son poisoned after Alexander's death in real life so it could be seen as just ... speeding things up??

So, that was dark, but its past midnight where I am rn, and I needed to get it off my chest before I could sleep. And who better to pester than you?

Thanks for reading!

--O-

I don't judge you, anon. I would also be terrified if it was me in this situation, plus the fact that I'm over 2,000 years in the past, I'd still have to deal with a lot of political shit and yandere. And Roxanna is not going to be easy to deal with.

She is absolutely possessive of Alexander and seeing her history with poor Stateira and Parysatis... Yes, I would be scared as hell, especially if I had children who would be in danger because of her.

Alexander will have a very big role to play in regards to Roxanna and Y/n's relationship, especially during Y/n's pregnancy. One spoiler I will give is: he will not tolerate any threat that may come to Y/n and the twins.

According to some historical sources, one of the reasons, if not the main reason, that Roxanna murdered Stateira was because she was also pregnant with Alexander, and she did not want any threat to her son's position. The plan backfired, however, because Cassander had her and her son killed in the end.

Maybe I'll decide to keep it in fanfic.

About the Reader deciding to deal with Roxanna... I can arrange that, but it will vary from the situation, but yes, our Y/n is smart and she knows what happened or, what should happen. And her being friends with Stateira and Parysatis and pregnant... There are big reasons for her to decide to do something about all of this.

I get it, I was bullied for years and I regret not taking action when I could, but it never really paid off when I decided to do something. What happened last year is a great example of that, but whatever. And I'm studying pharmacy technician and I've learned ways to deal with someone permanently, not that I'm going to do that, but I can always incorporate that into the story.

Mainly because Y/n will have basic knowledge of modern medicine or even more depending on what I choose.

Always feel free to send me your thoughts, anons! I'm happy to read them and answer them, even if sometimes it can take a while! <3

~ Lady L

#ask #o- anon

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

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Hello sweetheart. I feel oddly shy to tell you this but dropping by to let you know that I stumbled upon GC around when you had just updated chapter 8 and it’s been one of my all-time favorite fics ever since. I remember reading all 8 chapters in one go and was super worried you’d never update it again (that happens a lot with awesome fics for some reason 🥲) but I’m so glad you’re updating this amazing masterpiece. every Wednesday I eagerly read the new chapter.

Love all the way from Persia. 🩷✨

Aaaah darling! You've been here since pretty much the start, that's amazing! I totally get what you say with fics not being updated and finished, It's happened to me and it's heartbreaking.

But I promise, I'm determined to finish GC, It's my very own little baby project and I feel like I've learned so much from it, I refuse to give it up. GC will be updated until it's done or so help me.

Also, I really want to print my own little version when it's done just to be able to see it and hold it in my hands and see my child physically, and then read it again (and cry if I still have spelling mistakes after revising it) hehe.

And to do that I HAVE TO finish it first!

Thank you so much for reading, my love, sending you a virtual hug all the way to Persia ヽ(⌒▽⌒)ﾉ

Read Gilded Constellations

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v-the-nomad · 9 months ago

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Holy fucking chrome, chica!

I just had a face-to-face with the one and only Dexter DeShawn. Can you believe it? My head's still spinning like a malfunctioning cyberware. It was nice. Surreal, but nice. Right now, I'm riding a high that makes Black Lace feel like kiddie candy.

Dex is… well, he's Dex. Smooth as synth-silk and cooler than a Militech cryo-unit. Just being in his ride felt like my street cred doubled. But don't worry, chica, I ain't lost my edge. Dex might be offering us the world, but he's still putting us through our paces.

First up, we've gotta deal with Maelstrom. You know, those chrome-crazy gonks who look like they're auditioning for "Adam Smasher: The Early Years." We're supposed to snag some military hardware from them - a bot, to be specific. Sounds simple enough, right? But here's the kicker - if we pull this off, Dex wants me to meet the client. Me, Persia. And not some random middleman, but the actual, flesh and bones, client.

You getting what I'm laying down here? This isn't just some run-of-the-mill gig. This is our ticket to the big leagues. One small step for V, one giant leap for nomad-kind, or some shit like that.

Jackie's already out there, sniffing around Maelstrom territory like a bloodhound on a scent. Me? I've got a date with a Militech agent. And chica, this might just be our golden ticket. This agent? She's pure corpo, Persia. All clean-cut suit and sharp edges. Haven't met her in person yet, but even from the brief pic I've seen, you can practically smell the ambition and corpo stink. But here's the real juice - she's been chasing a ghost for weeks. A whole Militech convoy, poof, gone without a trace. And guess who's got the missing goods? Our chrome-dome amigos in Maelstrom.

Now, Militech's still in the dark about their missing toys, and this agent? She's getting desperate. Weeks of searching with not even an enny to show for it. And you know me, Persia. I can smell an opportunity like a scav can smell fresh chrome. I'm thinking we can cut a deal - we feed her some intel on her precious convoy, and in return, she greases the wheels for us to snag that military-grade bot Dex is after. Two birds, one stone, and a whole lotta eddies.

It's a delicate dance, sure. Corpo types always are. But if we play this right, this buttoned-up Militech suit will be putty in our hands. We could come out of this smelling like roses and swimming in cred.

I can feel it, almost taste it, Persia. The eddies, the respect, the power. Night City's about to learn that us nomads aren't just dust and tumbleweeds. We're the fucking storm. Hear me roar.

delta and out, V

#cyberpunk 2077 #v

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aboutanancientenquiry · 7 months ago

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"How did Herodotus know so much about what was happening in Persia?

Answer by Samantha Blankenship

This is a fantastic question. I like to think about this in terms of different networks of information flowing through Persia: some official, others not so official.

The official Achaemenid Persian propaganda machine was truly incredible; in fact, the Great Kings of Persia tell us explicitly that spreading their ideological message to all parts of the empire was a priority. In a long text along with a relief scuplture carved into the cliff face of a sacred mountain (Mount Bisotun in Iran) overlooking an important thoroughfare — a text carved three times in three separate languages — Darius I ‘the Great’ (r. 522-484 BCE) provides a monumental justification for what in reality amounted to his usurpation of the Persian throne. Towards the end of this inscription (at §60), Darius enjoins audiences to ‘declare it [the recorded story] to the people’, and even describes (in §70 of the Old Persian-language version) how he had the text copied on tablets and skins (i.e. parchment) and distributed throughout the empire, ‘everywhere in the lands/peoples’. We know he actually succeeded in disseminating his message widely, because local versions have been found in situ in Babylon and on parchment (in Aramaic translation) at the Jewish garrison in Elephantine, Egypt.

These mechanisms of dissemination were clearly supplemented by oral storytelling as well; this process, and its relationship to the written text at Mt. Bisotun, has been analysed by M. Rahim Shayegan in his book-length study Aspects of History and Epic in Ancient Iran: From Gaumāta to Wahnām (Washington, DC, 2012). Part of the imperial propaganda programme is its translatability into multiple languages (as suggested already by the three different languages in which Darius had the Bisotun Inscription carved); and that explains how the narrative could take on even more linguistic forms and variations as it spread to all parts of the empire, including the Greek- and Carian-speaking margins where Herodotus hailed from.

In my view, though, something equally amazing about Herodotus is that, in addition to knowing what the Persian kings wanted the whole world to know, he also problematizes their official ideological claims. That is, he recognized some discrepancies between the official line and the reality on the ground (see for example Darius’ mercenary attitude to dishonesty at Histories 3.72.4, and his commissioning of a disingenuous trick from his groomsman Oebares at 3.85-87, in contrast to the historical Darius’ insistence on his own truthfulness at DB §§57 and 63). Faced with such disparities, he was able to think about and really critique the limitations on the Persian kings’ ability to control the flow of information throughout their empire and the world beyond. But how exactly would someone like Herodotus know about situations where the official story promulgated by the Great Kings differed from less-flattering realities?

I often think of the passage from the Histories (9.16) in which elite Persians and Greeks recline on couches together at a banquet in Thebes and worry in very personal terms about the human costs of the Greco-Persian War. Herodotus mentions that the story of this banquet was described to him second-hand by a certain Thesander of Orchomenos, who attended the banquet. One pictures Greeks like Herodotus – born a citizen of the Persian Empire when it stretched as far as Halicarnassus – or Thersander, a citizen of a ‘Medizing’ (that is, Persian-allied) city-state, conversing with well-informed Persians at such elite gatherings. Such Persians would have been kept abreast of real conditions very quickly, through official (but not public-facing) channels; the Achaemenids maintained a remarkably swift courier system along the Royal Road system, which Herodotus knew about (Histories 8.98; see also 5.52-53). Even so far away from home, then, Persians assigned to military and political posts in Greek-speaking provinces would be aware of contemporary affairs and could have communicated their own impressions and reactions to interlocutors like Herodotus. By comparing information received through these unofficial channels with the authorized imagery and storylines of Achaemenid kingship, then, Herodotus was able to develop a sophisticated understanding of the relationships between political power and official historical narratives."

Samanth Blankenship, Assistant Professor, Department of Classics, University of Tennessee (research interests: Achaemenid Persia, ancient historiography, Greek prose)

From the site of Herodotus Helpline.

#herodotus #the histories #achaemenid persia #samantha blankenship

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griseldabanks · 9 months ago

Note

Would you do 7, 12, and 19 for the fic writer asks, please?

7. your preferred writing fonts

When I was first starting, I used to pick a different font for each story I wrote, or at least change it depending on what genre I was writing. Nowadays, ain't nobody got time for that, so I just use the default Times New Roman.

12. a trope you’re really into right now

Hmm, tropes...I don't normally think in terms of tropes, but I guess...I don't know what you call it, but in writing I've been thinking a lot about that thing where two people are separately agonizing over what the other thinks of them, but then when they finally get a chance to talk about it, they realize they had nothing to worry about. Like, maybe she's worrying, "Oh no, what if he thinks I'm ugly? If only there was something more I could do than take care of him when he's sick!" while he's thinking, "She's so beautiful! But she probably wants nothing to do with me because I'm always a burden on her." I am such a sucker for that.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

We'll have to reach waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back for this one. When I was a teenager, I wrote a (not great) novelization of the video game Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. In that game, there's one part where one of the characters says jokingly, "If you can break that door down, you must have the strength of Rustam!" I don't remember exactly how I found the thread to pull on, but I was always curious about whether this was a reference to an actual thing or just something they made up. So when I set about writing the novelization, I did some research, and ended up completely falling down the rabbit hole and reading the epic poem Shahnameh (The Book of Kings) by the Persian poet Ferdowsi. It's the mythical-historical account of the kings of the Persian empire, and sure enough, it does include tales of the mighty Rustam. I don't even remember if reading the Shahnameh elicited anything new that I put into the fic or not, but it was super interesting all the same!

Fic Writer Ask Game

#ask and you shall receive #general-illyrin #ask games

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jcmarchi · 1 year ago

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The Rogue: Prince of Persia Preview - We Played The Rogue-lite Prince Of Persia From The Co-Developer Of Dead Cells - Game Informer

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/the-rogue-prince-of-persia-preview-we-played-the-rogue-lite-prince-of-persia-from-the-co-developer-of-dead-cells-game-informer/

The Rogue: Prince of Persia Preview - We Played The Rogue-lite Prince Of Persia From The Co-Developer Of Dead Cells - Game Informer

When I had the chance to go hands-on with The Rogue: Prince of Persia, I had only watched the credits roll on Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown a few nights ago. Before that, the last time I watched credits roll on a new Prince of Persia game was in 2010 with The Forgotten Sands. I was surprised and happy to play a new excellent Prince of Persia game this year, but considering how long I had to wait for that one, I was not holding my breath for another – not even the Sands of Time remake I have been patiently waiting for.

Which is to say it was incredibly surprising when Ubisoft reached out about its new Prince of Persia rogue-lite. It’s not a mode in Lost Crown or a spinoff, as I initially assumed, but rather a whole new game from Evil Empire, the co-developer of Dead Cells. “It’s actually a totally new story and new universe, so it’s not connected to the previous games,” Evil Empire art director Dylan Eurlings tells me when I ask about the game’s canon and relationship to the Princes that came before it.

[embedded content]

But that isn’t to say The Rogue does not have at least some kind of relationship with Lost Crown. “We sold [The Rogue] during [Lost Crown’s] alpha stage,” Evil Empire game director Lucie Dewagnier says. “Since the beginning, we were in communication. They played our game, we played theirs.” Dewagnier follows up with compliments about Lost Crown. “Since we were working on the same franchise, we sometimes had the same ideas, and the same solutions to issues,” Dewagnier says. “We needed to communicate to avoid making the same decision and making the same game.”

When asked if we are getting too much Prince of Persia, Dewagnier laughs and says, “No, I think there is no such thing as too much Prince of Persia.”

While it may not be canonically connected to past Prince of Persias, I asked if we can expect unlockable costumes and comparable items referencing previous games. “It’s not in the game right now. I cannot say we won’t do it, but I cannot say we will,” Dewagnier says with a chuckle. At this point, the team seems focused on just getting the early access version into the hands of players on May 15.

Playing The Rogue

The Rogue: Prince of Persia follows a Prince who has had time travel powers his whole life. He has always had a special item that returns him to the last place he was truly safe before he died, and it has filled him with hubris and a complete disregard for personal safety. Turns out when you can leap from any height and fight anyone without worrying about your mortality, it makes you a pretty formidable acrobat and combatant. Unfortunately, his rash personality with little skill for strategic foresight has attracted an invading Hun army and its magic-wielding king Nogai, which is where this Prince (simply called The Prince once again) begins the game.

I grasped The Rogue’s basic controls quickly, thanks to my history with Dead Cells. In a complementary way, the games feel similar. Pouncing on enemies from above and swinging swords all feel familiar, but The Prince is more acrobatic than The Prisoner (a similarly unnamed protagonist that shares the first three letters of their name). Swinging on bars and clambering up platforms feels like Dead Cells, but it’s running along the walls that feel new for the genre.

The Prince has been running along walls since 2003, but it feels different here. If there is a wall in the background, you can run up and across it to avoid obstacles and get to out-of-reach platforms. Functionally, it feels like a stand-in for a double jump, but it gives the Prince’s movement an individual identity. It’s the kind of mechanic I fear I will miss when playing follow-up 2D platformers in the future.

Evil Empire did experiment with another mechanical staple of Sands of Time – rewinding time to undo short-term mistakes – but made the difficult choice to cut it. “It broke everything – the rhythm, the combat – so we decided to get rid of it,” Dewagnier says. “And I was very sad because it was, for me, the most complex thing I did technically, as a programmer.” It didn’t serve the game, so it had to go. “Sometimes something works. Sometimes something doesn’t work. And you don’t want to land in the sunk cost fallacy and keep something just because.”

Combat overall is manageable. On an Xbox controller, I used the B button to dodge enemies, the Y button to kick them away, and the X button for a familiar standard attack. The Prince also has a ranged weapon with limited use. I didn’t lean on that mechanic too much, but I did find a boomerang-like item that was more satisfying to use than the starter bow and arrow.

Alongside enemy combat, I also found a few rooms that were purely platforming challenges, and those are highlights. Narrowly dodging spinning blades and spiked pits using the Prince’s wall-running ability felt great, and I am certain I will eagerly pursue these challenge rooms whenever they appear.

Perhaps expectedly, the final boss destroyed me. I only got a few hits in before it killed me and sent me back to what appeared to be the night before, where I was hanging out near a campfire with one of the villagers. I had been having a smooth time up until that point, but the boss was a stark reminder of the challenge I was familiar with from Dead Cells. Prince of Persia may be known and potentially appeal to a larger audience than Dead Cells, but Evil Empire is not pulling back on difficulty. “We don’t try to make the game easier. We try to make it accessible,” Dewagnier says. Challenge is necessary to encourage that feeling of consistent growth. When asked if permanent upgrades will be available, Dewagnier says, “It’s something we are still working on. Something we want to work on with the community.”

On a subsequent run, I ran into another friendly townsperson who shared information with the Prince about a new location where the Huns were gathering. I was not able to dive too deeply into it, but finding people out in the world like this rewards new path options to attempt on follow-up runs.

I was eager to attempt another run at the end of my demo session before my online access to the build was callously revoked by the people in charge. I agreed to the timing of my access, but I was still sad to see it go, which bodes well for its upcoming initial release. I want to play more, which I was a little surprised by considering how recently I finished Lost Crown. I wasn’t sure I would be ready to jump into another 2D Prince of Persia game, but The Rogue has its own identity, genre, and style. We can all start attempting our own runs when the game enters Steam Early Access on May 15, which understandably (but somewhat disappointingly) will not represent the game’s full narrative. “You will see the first act of the story. We have planned for three acts,” Dewagnier says.

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