#terrible to play. some levels feel downright impossible

[wonderfulxhappiness]

god i hate this fucking game

[my-writings-and-musings]

Here's a commission from an absolutely wonderful person, with Drift and a human reader going from the start of their friendship to becoming Amica Endura, and being ridiculously cute and sweet all the way. 

You'd been confused by the term at first, like you had with all Cybertronian phrases upon initially hearing them, but this one had been different in a way that didn't feel right.

Mostly because it sounded suspiciously like an insult.

Though the group of bots hadn't appeared to be especially troublesome, you had still seen Drift flinch when they'd referred to him as a Carnicon. That reaction alone had stirred immediate concern on your part, but their less than friendly tone and the sense of trouble they carried had made you act on the spot. Though the offending crewmembers had been gone by the time you managed to climb down the ladder attached to your designated lunch table, you'd still made it a point to hurry across the floor towards the lonely ninja bot, hoping that perhaps you'd just misunderstood what had transpired. Maybe the word was a nickname he hadn't heard in a while?  Distracted as you were just trying to avoid getting stepped on by the other bots moving about the room, such optimism was still obviously hopeless even to you. Drift had looked wounded by the comment.

"Hey, Drift! Down here, hello!"

Waving your arms for added effect, you called up to the bot as soon as you reached the floor beside his chair. Though somewhat out of breath, you had practiced getting the attention of much taller beings enough times to make elevating your voice quite easy, and you were noticed quickly. Raising his helm in a flash, Drift looked down to the floor with surprise that turned to a soft smile when he recognized you. A hand was offered to lift you as had become customary amongst the crew. 

"Hey, Y/N! Finish your lunch so soon?" He asked casually, all traces of his unpleasant encounter already wiped from his face. Hopping off his palm and onto the table, you had to sadly note the half eaten meal of his own sitting on a tray, untouched since he'd been called that word. The neatly organised arrangement of  energon cuts and various metals prepared as tasty little morsels was his usual lunch, something you knew because its sushi like appearance had stuck in your mind, especially do to how quickly he always finished it and the delighted mood with which he did so. Something must have indeed been wrong for it to be pushed aside and ignored.

"Yeah! I just wanted to come over, and..." Words failed you at the realization you hadn't actually planned upon what to say, or even how to go about saying it, despite your desire to help. All you'd wanted was to check up on him as swiftly as possible, and due to the distance involved there hadn't been time to think of a tactful way to accomplish that. Perhaps you should just be honest and not beat around the bush? Drift was a bot who could appreciate good intentions, if nothing else. Finding your courage, you ignored your somewhat rapid heartbeat to look up at him, smiling softly and adjusting your stance in a way you prayed came across as reassurance. "Well, honestly, I saw that group of bots go by and... I don't like to assume, but I wanted to make sure they didn't give you a hard time."

"Oh, those guys?"

His tone was casual, but even he couldn't hide the hurt that flashed in his optics. Clearly, and unfortunately, your instincts had been right on target. 

"Nah, they're just... Some mechs are a bit abrasive is all, it's how they socialize." He said, politely dismissing your concerns with fake sincerity that might have worked if you didn't know him as well as you did. Though not especially close, you'd spent enough time with him to learn he tried to play peacemaker on the ship, something made quite difficult by the past many crewmembers refused to let him forget. Somehow the particular variety of pain he earned from such a predicament was very easy to recognize. You could hear it in every halting word, and because of that you had to fight to keep your expression neutral as he worked his way through an explanation probably improvised on the spot. "I've been developing a more open energy flow in casual environments. It allows me to connect with others on a deeper level, but can make me a tad more... vulnerable, to such unexpected encounters."

Hearing the pain hidden just below the surface of his voice, you can't help but feel a protective stir in your heart, regardless of the fact Drift towers over you and is an experienced combat veteran. Size and strength clearly aren't keeping him safe from bullies, and you can't bear to think of him suffering that pain in silence. Perhaps it isn't your place, but leaving him to endure even another minute just isn't an option. Sitting down on the table, you keep your worry to yourself and speak plainly, one equal to another.  "It wasn't so much them, as what they said that seemed to bother you." 

Seeing him deflate a bit makes further conversation almost impossible, but you push forward with your question. "That word, Carnicon, was it an insult?"

"No." He replies, curtly but not aggressive as he looks down at the hands he's folded atop the table. Worried you might have crossed some cultural boundary, despite all but whispering the word in question to lessen its blow, you're relieved when he seems to decide against further deflection. Stroking his thumb over the back of his palm, he is open but not quite unguarded in his tone as he starts to explain. "Well, not in most situations. Carnicon is an older term for Cybertronians built to hunt or engage in combat with purely biological weapons; like claws or venom."

Now at least marginally caught up, though still uncertain how such a word could ever be used against someone, you gently encouraged him to continue when he paused. "But... in other situations?"

"Some look down on bots bearing features that are ascribed to Carnicons. Thus, the name is often levied at those with "beastly" attributes, such as tails, horns, or..." Momentarily worried he'd paused because the topic had indeed proved too much, you were too caught up in the sad implications of the explanation to notice it hardly applied to him in the slightest. It was only when he brought a hand to his chin that the pieces started to click. Tilting his helm, he opened his mouth just enough for you to catch sight of four incredibly pointed tips, all in the same spots as your own canines. Everything made a terribly sad kind of sense by the time he closed his mouth and returned his sad gaze to you with a single word. 

"Fangs."

Heartache barreled past your defenses to show on your face in the form of an unrestrained frown, one that almost weighed you down under a dense kind of sadness you'd never experienced. Bots kept surprising you with the downright absurd forms of bigotry found on Cybertron, but this... You didn't even know how to begin processing it. This poor bot may have made some bad choices in the past, but he's worked tirelessly to be better, and the whole time you've known him he's been nothing but kind. More than kind, in fact. Drift is practically smiling every time he sees you. To think he has to endure exclusion for his past, on top of harassment for a physical trait that's impossibly harmless, you find yourself wishing wistfully you were large enough to embrace him. A reassuring smile on his face makes you ache more.

"Although I'm not a Carnicon, the fact that a number of my dentae are unusually sharp in a manner some might compare to those commonly found in Carnicons has occasionally resulted in... heckling." At the last word he cracks, and for the first time his fake unaffected front is completely ineffective, allowing you to see the pain that's almost overflowing just below the surface. Such a sight makes you certain you'll never be able to unsee his suffering again. Suddenly you understand him on a deeper level, as if this little incident has made something click into perfect place. You've never felt more determined to comfort someone than you do as he tries to continue. "But I'm quite accustomed to all of the reactions I provoke, Y/N! It does not bother me. Thank you for your concern though, I hope this feature does not perturb you."

A wonderful burst of clarity nearly makes you laugh, if only because being so caught up actually made you forget something about yourself, but you channel that energy into a bolstering smile as you scoot closer on the table.

"Why would it do that? I've got them too."

Optics going blank, it looked as if his processor had crashed like an old PC before he utters two quiet words.

"Come again?"

Tilting your own head, you gently pull your mouth open and push your lip back to reveal your own canines, all of which extend far enough that all he has to do is squint before his expression brightens in realization. Tapping the pointy tip, you let go to enable yourself to talk once again. Seeing him watch your face a little more intently as you speak is oddly endearing. "See? All humans have these teeth, they're called "canines", but mine are extra big and sharp. It's called Macrodontia." 

"I... I never noticed..." He replied after a pause, speaking softly as his processor works over what you've just shared with him. There's hesitation holding back an obvious buzz of excitement, as if he doesn't want to take a risk and believe he's finally found someone who understands, or is worried you might be offput by the true level of his excitement. Equally concerned about not overwhelming him or overstepping, you reply using a casual tone to mask your eagerness to connect with him.

"As small as I am, no one here has." You say matter of factly, briefly wondering if any unpleasant sentiment would have been directed your way if your size didn't hide the feature. Flashbacks of taunts on Earth are overwritten by self admonishment, as you know for a fact nothing you've endured could ever compare to what he faces on a daily basis in terms of sheer isolation. No doubt the teeth also play into bot's assumptions on his "aggressive" nature too. Not wanting to make the moment about yourself, but also determined to let him know you would never do to him what others have done to you, you're left fumbling between what feels like two conflicting ideals. "Sometimes people made fun of me for it on Earth, so I... I know it's not the same as what you face, so I don't want to say I "understand" how you feel or anything, but-"

"Y/N... I think you do. A lot more than most." He says, not so much interrupting as reassuring you that the backpedaling isn't necessary. Letting out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, the warm satisfaction of being able to help someone in a trying moment settled over your heart with a kind of fuzzy giddiness. There's a renewed brightness in his optics as he looks to you without shame and speaks openly. "Thank you for sharing this with me, and I assure you I won't tell a soul. But if anyone ever does find out, and gives you trouble..."

There's a gentle fade to silence as you lay a tiny hand on his.

"It doesn't have to be secret. I'm not ashamed of the way I am, especially considering who I share the look with." You say, and the effect is so profound his smile actually appears to brighten before the rest of his expression.

"I'll still be here for you, just as you've been here for me."

"Consider the feeling mutual."

---------------------------------

"Then there's this particular blade; do you see how it doesn't have any sharpened edge?"

Due to your size, you could probably see the finer details of the weapon even more clearly than your friend did, and thus the total lack of serrated sides was quite apparent. Thankfully the missing edge also made it easier to observe the features Drift was describing while he held the blade out for you to see, as you could get quite close without having to worry about excessive caution. It didn't hurt that you also wanted to observe as much detail as possible. Following along with him had taught you amazing things, and he actually seemed to grow more enthusiastic when you were attentive.

"Yeah! It's all just tapered to a point, like a stake." You said, sitting casually on the floor amongst the neatly arranged armory of swords and daggers of incredible variety. From the way Drift is gleefully chatting from his own spot in front of you, one might have thought he was discussing something more akin to collectibles than weapons of war, but this behavior had become so normal to you that the oddness didn't even register. As far as you were concerned, he was simply a friend sharing something he was passionate about. Seeing him smile so brightly made it even better.

"Precisely! This style is very unique; it's meant for close combat, either as a last resort in a sword fight or a single strike for assassination." He said, holding up the blade and flipping it elegantly over his palm. Optics almost shining with delight, he spoke so enthusiastically you could see his sharpened dentae peeking through every smile, which he only allowed to happen when he felt truly comfortable. Before you knew it your own cheeks were pushing up in an absolutely beaming grin, one enthusiastic enough to show your own little fangs as well. Seeing Drift this... free just stirred a kind of warm happiness in your heart you didn't know was possible. It seemed to only happen in select moments, but it was definitely becoming more frequent the longer you two were friends, and it was hard to miss how his happiest days seemed to occur only in your presence...

"Oh, and then there's this one!"

You startled as he pulled out a similiar but far more elegant blade seemingly from nowhere, moving so swiftly the fine edge made a whistle as it cut through the very air, but as he began to gush about the particular nature of this weapon you settled back in to listen eagerly. Truthfully you could sit here and let him talk through every weapon he'd ever owned. Being his friend was a reward in itself that you enjoyed each day.

---------------------------------

For the sake of the bot working so diligently, you tried to avoid moving in any significant way, going so far as to take shallow breaths whenever possible. It was resulting in rather minimal oxygen intake, but you saw it as worth it due to how little you disturbed his concentration. Unfortunately your metabolism really didn't approve of the sacrifice.

Thankfully, Drift had become familiar enough with human biology and you in general to notice just as you were starting to get dizzy.

"Y/N?" He prompted, getting you to crack your eyes open just a notch to look at him. Still unwilling to risk his work, you willed up the tiniest hint of air through your throat to respond without moving your mouth.

"Mm?"

A blurry smile came through your narrowly parted eyelids, his sense of reasurance shining bright despite the limited view you had as he spoke softly. "You can relax, I can do this fine with you moving a little."

Opening your eyes all the way, the words admittedly acted as a switch for your lungs, which sucked in a deep breath through your nose to catch up with your deficit. Relieved and feeling a little silly, you took a few more quick inhales as he paused his painting of your face. Apparently you'd been much closer to passing out than you'd realized... When dizziness finally faded away, you looked back to him with a sheepish smile and a permissive look for him to continue. Drift smiled right back and lifted the tiny brush again with another little reminder. 

"But even if I were having a problem, you staying conscious is more important than not smudging paint."

"Sorry, just don't want to mess up your hard work." You replied, now content to breathe normally but still doing your best to stay motionless atop his desk. The sentiment seemed to touch him, as there was a hint of a delay in his next brushstroke, but a little merry flash in his optics. Being appreciated in anything was still quite new for him, after all. Even with you his list of true friends remained sadly short. 

"Painting these symbols is just as much about the process as the result. Taking the time to get it right, even fixing little details, is all part of it." He murmured as the tiniest touch of a miniscule brush flicked under your right eye, his voice expressing his focus until he pulled back and relaxed with a quip. "Plus, you're actually doing better than I'm used to. Rodimus is always so twitchy when we try this."

A tiny snort of laughter escaped you at the image of a frustrated Lost Light captain getting antsy in a chair. "I can believe it."

There was an unusually long pause as Drift seemed to survey his work, mouth pressing into a thin line before he held up a bot sized mirror and looked at you with an expression just barely restraining hope for approval.

"Here, want to see so far?"

There was no need to exaggerate; you loved it. A part of you wished the intricate red could be permanent due to how beautiful it looked on your features, especially with how perfect the symbols were at accentuating what you liked most about your appearance. Tilting your head from side to side, you admired the expert craftsmanship with a smile impossible to hide, and were emphatic in expressing your thoughts.

"Drift, it looks amazing!"

"I'm glad..." He said on a sigh of relief, backtracking under the guise of a fake cough moments later. "I'm glad you like it! These patterns and colors are a very pure expression of friendship, so getting them right is... Yeah."

Seeing him so vulnerable pulled out the same desire to comfort him that had started your relationship, though unlike then you were totally certain now as you laid a proportionally tiny hand on his. "Marks or no marks, you're still my best friend."

Despite how casual the words left your lips, he looked just as touched as he'd been at your initial interaction in the canteen, and seemed quite affected as he lowered the mirror and replied. "You mean it?"

"Always." Came your automatic response.

---------------------------------

The Lost Light, being as massive as it was, had a wealth of rooms including viewing decks up for grabs at any given time. With one wall consisting almost entirely of windows to view the beauty of the cosmos, and plenty of space to set up furniture or whatever else one might need, they were a naturally popular choice for social gatherings. While some in ideal positions had become more sought after than others, they were plentiful enough that any given bot had no need to worry about being unable to find a space for any occasion. Thus they were perfect for gatherings of any size at any time for all who called the ship home.

Despite the ease of procuring such a space on demand, however, Drift had been quite insistent on the specific one he'd rushed you towards without warning. Accustomed to his often sporadic ideas, you'd happily let him carry your tiny form in his broad arms when he promised explanations would be coming. Admittedly the fact that he'd appeared nervous had given you some pause though...

Until you'd actually seen the viewing deck and what he'd arranged within.

Framed almost as if by hand, a brilliant red cloud of space dust sparkled in the infinite blackness beyond, giving the room a soft glow akin to a warm fire or a fantastic sunset. Spectralism heralded such a color as one of friendship and eternal bonds, and as you took in the recently arranged decorations around the room that made a brilliant kind of sense. From the gem studded light strings wound about the ceiling, to the crystalline flowers flanking the door, and the little table in the center draped in fabric to look somewhat like an altar, it's clear the whole room has become a Spectralist symbol of true companionship. With everything you two have been through together, you have a good feeling as to why. It's so touching you actually have to fight the urge to cry.

"I spent so long getting everything ready, the nebula kind of snuck up on me..." He said bashfully, still holding you in his hands as he walked forward with a little sigh. The story painted a clear image in your head of a studiously decorating bot looking up to be surprised by a giant anomaly in space, as if it was a guest arriving earlier than it was supposed to, and you had to chuckle at his adorable nature. "But I don't want to miss it, so I hope you'll forgive me if things aren't perfect. The backdrop is just too important."

Certain as you were about the purpose of all this, you still decided to open with a question, letting your friend take the lead with you as support. "What is it the backdrop for?"

"I think you know, but..." He said, smiling through significant nerves despite how clear it was you were fully on board. For all of his progress, the poor bot was still easily overwhelmed by doubt. The fact that he'd made this attempt all on his own, even with obvious anxiety every step of the way, made you proud as much as you were touched by his gesture. Approaching the little table, he set you down on it with a deep ventilation. Something quite positive but weighty needed to come off his chest.

"You've only been in my life a little while, yet every day our friendship has gotten stronger, Y/N. You're one of the few people who can look past my mistakes, and you remind me why I want to be better in the first place. I want to let you know how truly I value your companionship."

Though he spoke quickly, enough that he clearly had memorized the words and worried about saying every one, you were absolutely touched near to the point of tears. He'd spoken about Amica Endura in the past, particularly as of late when he'd dropped not so subtle tests to gauge your feelings on the topic, but nothing could have prepared you for him actually requesting such a thing of you. It was the deepest expression of platonic love known to his kind, meant for friendships that endured through their seemingly endless lifetimes. To be considered worthy of such a thing simply made your heart feel like bursting with gratitude.

Lowering his voice a tad, as if to separate his next sentence from everything else, he offered you a hand and smiled softly but warmly in the delicate light.

"If... If you're okay with it... I'd like to become Amica Endura. I know you mentioned the idea sounded good, and that I'm you're best friend, but I just want to check." He said, speaking so tenderly you might have forgotten he was multiple times your own height. Happier than you could convey in words, you nodded and had to sniffle back some tears. To think of the suffering this bot had endured, the exclusion and bullying he went through every day, yet still he found the strength to be so kind... What were the odds a little human would end up meaning so much to him? At your dotting of tears, he tenderly tilted your chin upwards. "Y/N?"

"Sorry, just... You know I can be a sap." You said through a laughing sob, brushing away the wetness from your eyes to see him clearly when you spoke next. Holding one of his digits, you put your heart and soul into every word. It felt somewhat akin to baring a spark of your own. "But I do want to be Amica, for real. You're my best friend and I want that to be forever."

There was an immediate dampness in his optics, but he pushed it back with a few quick cycles of his shutters. Putting on the most wobbly of smiles, he lifted both hands and had you lay your own atop his digits, the closest the two of you could get to clasping them together. "Okay, I... I just hold your hands, say some words, and then you say "today, tomorrow, and always" after I do. Got it?" 

Nodding, you watched in awe as he leaned back and opened his spark casing, revealing the brilliant glow of his essence to blend with the soft light already present, making it look like a miniature star was flaring in his chest. Cycling another vent, he looked into your eyes as he began.

"I bid you stand in the glow of my spark, so that you may feel the heat of my words and know them to be true."

The fact that the words were meant to be purely allegorical didn't make them any less powerful. You really could feel warmth from him, but almost on a different level than you'd ever experienced before, as if your happiness and his were filling the air between you. Perhaps the Spectralist beliefs about color connecting to emotion was true in ways you hadn't expected. Light from the cosmic cloud outside almost seemed to give his words the backdrop they needed to truly connect as he wanted, allowing every one to go straight to your heart and fill it with all the warmth and love he felt for you every day. 

"I invite you to receive my light and in doing so become my Amica Endura—from now until forever." 

You squeezed his hands softly as he hiccuped just a little, encouraging him to continue, and his voice broke a tad as he did.

"Y/N, for your empathy... As you are to me, may I be to you—today, tomorrow, and always."

A bit of coaxing was needed when it was your turn, not because you were hesitant but rather due to how difficult speech was while emotions overflowed your heart. Shamelessly sniffling and letting happy tears fall down a beaming smile, you took a deep breath at his soft look of reasurance. He trusted you to take your time in this. 

"Today, tomorrow, and always." You said to seal the bond, meaning it with every fiber of your tiny being to stand by this bot to the end of your days. The two of you had met by chance, had started to bond over the littlest of moments, and now you were here. It was more perfect than things often went for anyone. Yet there was no need to question the how or why, especially when it led to a friendship as pure as this one. As he closed his spark chamber, you felt residual warmth in the air like the lingering of an embrace.

Which became a very real one when he scooped you up for a hug that was wordlessly agreed upon. Unable to wrap your arms around him at all, you settled for holding them wide and letting him press you close, feeling the smoothness of his heated armor as it hummed with life. Despite being as tiny as you were, it seemed quite apparent the hug was as powerful for him as it was for you. Tiny, happy sobs occasionally bounced his shoulders like little hiccups. It was a moment you could have lived in forever.

When he parted to give you a grin so genuine it confidently displayed his sharpened dentae, you did the same, unable to believe such little things could have the most wonderful of outcomes.

Support me here if you like my writing! Every donation helps me secure more time to create, and the same goes for commissions, which are always available!

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Light Novel Review - Adachi and Shimamura Vol. 1

In Yuri, as with most things, what is popular is not always what is good, or rather, the most prolific item is usually successful because of massive marketing and economic power, and rarely because of a work’s merit. That is not to say that just because something is beloved, it is a bad work, far from it. It is nearly impossible to achieve commercial success if the content is terrible, although NTR Netsuzou Trap challenges this statement. However, the vast majority of the most consumed Yuri series like Bloom Into You and Yuru Yuri are good and even great at times, even if they are not the pinnacle of the genre, despite what sales figures and community polls may tell you. Occasionally the (subjective) best can rise to the top, like Kase-san and My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, both of which have lauded appropriate praise from critics and audiences.

Iruma Hitoma’s Adachi and Shimamura is a well-liked and successful series, publishing eight volumes over the past seven years, spawning two manga adaptations, and receiving an anime adaptation, which currently scheduled to premiere later this year. The light novel finally makes its English debut, and I found the first volume, sadly, disappointing. There are some lovely moments, and I understand why this series is so widespread, but far too much of the material felt aimless, unnecessary, or even aggravating. Give me a few hours and an X-Acto knife (or the copy-paste tool, considering this was an early digital release), and I could probably salvage a pretty good short story from the unfortunate drudgery that is this light novel. Still, as a whole, it would rank significantly far beyond other popular and frankly superior titles.

The light novel follows two high school girls, Adachi and Shimamura, who are both delinquents that regularly play hooky. The two meet when they both choose the same hiding spot, a loft in the gymnasium, and the two become friends, spending their classtime avoiding other people and playing ping-pong in the loft. This concept quickly wears thin as the author feels the need to drill it into the readers’ skulls over the first two chapters. Eventually, the actual plot, if you could call it that, takes over, and the rest of the volume follows the two girls on their inconsequential adventures, going to the mall, fishing, and singing karaoke. Now, there is nothing wrong with a relaxing slice of life about girls doing everyday things, but Adachi and Shimamura utterly fails in this endeavor.

There is a semblance of a narrative arc, but meaningless occurrences so muddle it. After almost every scene, I found myself asking why it was included, what the point was, what the consequences were, what effect it had on the overall story, and there was hardly ever an answer. Sure, there were cute moments, like Shimamura riding on the back of Adachi’s bike or the two girls holding hands which one can squeal and throw money at, but it all feels so distracting. These inadequacies are made all the worse because the story underneath all the garbage is actually rather enjoyable.

 Chapter Three, “Adachi, Questioning” is a definite highlight of the story. This section sees Adachi having a salacious dream about Shimamura and struggling to come to terms with it and her feelings. Her inner conflict includes some pleading and self-assurances she is not gay. This assertion quickly begins to shatter as she struggles to control herself. This chapter is realistic, if a bit sensationalized, and captures that awkward teenage lesbian experience perfectly. If one reads only this chapter and a bit of the start of the novel for context, you will find a fantastic story.

Another feather in this series cap is Iruma’s prose, translated by Molly Lee. The light novel reads exceptionally well, with varied and complicated writings, raising it above most other light novels whose composition I struggle to identify alongside my elementary students’ writings. The perspective shifts back and forth between the title characters every chapter or so, providing readers with a nice bit of dramatic irony, as the girls wonder about the other’s actions or thoughts. Such moments are the only time the author shows us any sense of logic or consequence. My only complaint with the prose is the over-reliance on narrating the characters’ thoughts. These comments are usually sarcastic and used for comedic effect but become a bit tiring.

The story may be thin and convoluted, but the characters are at least consistent. Sadly, they are consistently terrible, ranging from unlikable to downright annoying. Both Adachi and Shimamura are incredibly antisocial, with the former being somewhat more anxious and closed off. Neither one has any ability to connect with other people beyond awkward conversations or snark. At more than one point, Adachi actually runs away from an uncomfortable situation. Their introversion does not read well. Both girls come off as cold and unkind, not touching, cute, or relatable. I cannot fathom what they possibly see in friendship with each other, and this is a serious failing on the author’s part. But nothing, no aspect of their character, could possibly make them worse than Chikama Yashiro.

Yashiro is a small time-traveling alien from the future who forces her friendship on Shimamura. If that sounds awkward and out of place here, do not worry, it does in the book too. No other character indicates any level of fantasy. They at least maintain a semblance of reality even if their personalities are unrealistically callous. Yashiro feels like a strange addition from a fanfiction. Not only is she out of place with the rest of the story, but she is aggressively bothersome. On more than one occasion, she forces her company on Shimamura and loudly interrupts the already struggling plot. The worst of these incidents occurs when Adachi finally gets Shimamura to agree to an outing together at the mall, only to have a bratty alien impose her company on them. In the end, the only emotion the girls feel which Iruma manages to convey is anger and annoyance, as readers will be nothing short of fuming after reading chapters about the bothersome creature.

Adachi and Shimamura is a resounding disappointment. There are individual moments of cuteness, none of which have meaning, and one chapter with some actual stakes and engaging story. Other works, like Yuru Yuri, have shown that inconsequential slice of life stories can thrive with engaging characters and fun situations, but Adachi and Shimamura has neither. However, I still have some hope for the upcoming anime adaptation. Crazy and annoying antics like Yashiro’s will likely come across better in a visual medium, where characters can be reactive and exaggerated better than in text. Further, I think the additional dialogue required by television will help the girls feel less distant and more engaging for the viewer. I recommend you skip reading this book and wait to see if the anime has anything more to offer, or if future volumes can improve the shoddy storytelling.

Ratings: Story – 4 Characters – 2 LGBTQ – 6 Sexual Content – 1 Final – 3 

Purchase Adachi and Shimamura Vol. 1 here: https://amzn.to/3alTyLM

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

[aion-rsa]

Why Star Trek Needs More Characters Like Captain Lorca

https://ift.tt/3dlxGVL

When Star Trek: Discovery first began, the show was remarkable in that, for the first time in franchise history, its primary protagonist wasn’t a starship captain. Your mileage may vary when it comes to how you feel the show has handled Michael Burnham’s journey over the course of its three seasons to date, but there’s no question that she, rather than the person at the eponymous ship’s helm, was always meant to be Discovery’s lead.

As a result, the show had a unique opportunity in its first season to explore a very different kind of captain with a very different leadership style. After all, if he wasn’t our primary protagonist, then such a character didn’t come with the expectations of a James Kirk or Jean Luc Picard. He could be darker, more complicated, less likable, and the story would be made all the richer for these differences. And, initially, that’s precisely the sort of character Gabriel Lorca appeared to be. A stern taskmaster with a take-no-bullshit attitude, Lorca was a Star Trek captain who believed that the ends could in fact justify terrible means – if the end being sought was important enough.

Granted, he also turned out to be a Mirror Universe clone bent on killing a bunch of people and taking control of the Terran Empire, but we didn’t know that when we first met him.

Originally, Lorca seemed like the sort of morally gray protagonist that a war story like Discovery’s first season needed – a man willing to do what others wouldn’t, no matter how dark the choices he was faced with might happen to be. Kill his former crew so they don’t get tortured by Klingons instead? On it. Experiment with secret and dangerous technology that weaponizes a seemingly harmless science vessel and puts lives at risk, but might turn the tide of intergalactic war? A fine idea.

Read more

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Why Star Trek: Discovery Needed to Write Out Its Klingons

By Lacy Baugher

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Q’s Return on Star Trek: Picard Season 2 will Follow “Significant Trauma”

By Joseph Baxter

This Lorca is basically the oft-repeated Star Trek idea that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few come to life, just taken to a disturbing extreme. To him, winning the war, discovering the secret to the Klingons’ cloaking device, and protecting important Federation resources are ultimately more important than the safety or wellbeing of his crew, and he behaves accordingly. On some level, much of his behavior may seem ruthless and cruel, but looked at in a certain light, his actions can also be seen as very necessary.

Perhaps Starfleet captains forced into leadership positions during times of war and conflict are, naturally, harder and less concerned with things like Federation protocol and ethics than those who are not. Maybe they’re predisposed to be gruff and short, and less interested in making friends with their subordinates than seeing their orders followed. And Discovery does not shy away from the obvious darkness in Lorca’s soul, even when those traits make the character difficult to watch and occasionally impossible to root for. But, at the end of the day, he’s a capable commander who gets things done – even if his methods aren’t what a Kirk or Picard might recommend or tolerate.

That the Gabriel Lorca who served as Discovery’s captain turns out to be an evil clone from an alternate universe allows Discovery to neatly sidestep the thornier philosophical and moral questions raised by his position within the world of the show. Of course, there’s no space in this franchise for such a ham-fisted, cartoonish man, who suddenly starts wearing studded leather outerwear and gleefully murdering people. That Lorca is clearly a villain and we can feel a certain amount of relief when he dies. But what about the other officers in Starfleet, those who look a lot more like the original Captain Lorca than they ever will Captain Picard?

We all know that Star Trek, as a franchise, is largely a story about do-gooder optimists out to seek out new life, boldly go, and collectively work toward building a better future for all of humanity. That’s the ideal. But, isn’t it unlikely that everyone in Starfleet’s ranks fits that bill? What about the cynical scientists who do valuable work but don’t care about exploring alien cultures? The battle-scarred warriors who never really figured out how to stop fighting whatever their last war happened to be? The folks that don’t care about the mission beyond the fact that it pays their bills or feeds their kids back home?

I mean, original recipe Gabriel Lorca can’t be the only starship captain that’s wildly competent at his job, but also kind of a jerk, can he? That captain didn’t seem destined to win any popularity contests among his crew, but he also, you know, wasn’t a mass murderer. And granted, those characters aren’t likely to lead spinoffs of their own. But they still have important roles to play – as Discovery’s initial episodes showed us.

As much as we all want to believe that every character in this universe who puts on a uniform is a Christopher Pike-type that exudes Federation ideals with their every breath, that’s honestly not possible. Some captains are going to turn out to be mediocre leaders, have terrible people skills, or even be downright cruel to their subordinates. It’s human nature. And after all, this franchise’s seemingly endless list of corrupt admirals has to come from somewhere. They didn’t just spring from the ground fully formed – they were once captains and first officers and helmsmen whose stories took a dark turn. But how?

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To be clear: Star Trek doesn’t need more villainous mirror clones. (And let’s be real, this franchise will never top Emperor Philippa Georgiou anyway.) But what it does need, is different sorts of characters in command and leadership positions. Scarred by losses and hardened by battle, the original Lorca isn’t exactly a poster child for Federation service – but that’s precisely what made him so fascinating to watch. We’ve seen plenty of brave, selfless, admirable people in positions of leadership in this franchise. But what about the good leaders who aren’t necessarily likable or even decent people? Surely those must exist, somewhere in this wide universe. Shouldn’t we get the chance to see those stories too?

The post Why Star Trek Needs More Characters Like Captain Lorca appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[oumakokichi]

Hello I am the Tsumugi love hotel anon Thank you for answering my ask it's great to know that other people have the same problem Sorry if this sounds strange but it's hard for me to enjoy V3 without thinking about this I love Danganronpa and I like Tsumugi but this really really bothered me And I kinda don't want to assume that someone who created a series I like so much is like this I guess as a fan Do you have any advice? So sorry but I have this habit of overthinking things and just want help

Hi again anon! It’s not a strange question at all; this is sadly kind of a common dilemma to run into in most fandom spaces, and it’s perfectly normal to have conflicting feelings about these things.

The best advice I can give is to view everything through a critical lens. By this, I don’t mean “you can’t ever enjoy things casually” or “you have to hate the media you consume in order to be a Good Fan™.” I simply mean that it’s important to be aware that pretty much all media is going to be flawed on some level, and that it’s important to not brush aside those flaws when having a real discussion about the content we enjoy and consume.

Part of the reason why I love meta and analysis so much is precisely because it’s a really good way to sort through some of these more complicated feelings I have on certain topics. For as much as I love DR and as much as it’s been a huge source of enjoyment and comfort to me for quite a few years now, I’m never going to sit here and act like it doesn’t have its fair share of flaws. It’s certainly not for everyone, and I can completely understand why some people may not like it.

There’s a very fine line when discussing media too, between raising awareness that all media and content we consume is inherently flawed in some way, and simply dismissing it as okay because “well, everything is problematic in some way so it doesn’t matter.” These things do matter, and I feel like discussion of them is a very important part of critical analysis, especially when it raises awareness of potentially upsetting subject matter to people who may have been unaware of it before.

The entire love hotel scene with Tsumugi is undeniably in extremely poor taste, particularly when incest is a very real and terrible form of abuse that real survivors have suffered through. Seeing it used for nothing more than skeevy fanservice to pander to an otaku audience is deeply upsetting, particularly coming from a game that explicitly touches on the ways in which fiction can and does impact reality in very real, tangible ways.

It doesn’t help that the love hotel scenes themselves hang in a weird sort of limbo as far as their role in the game goes, either. There’s been a lot of debate in the fandom as to whether these scenes can even be considered “canon” on any level—and even if they’re not technically canon, which I think is a fair assessment given that none of the other characters even remember them after waking up and they have no real lasting impact on the plot, the decision to include them at all is still gross on some level.

In my personal opinion, the best way to determine how comfortable you are continuing to support a series or not, is to try and gauge authorial intent: why are these topics or themes included in this piece of media? What purpose do they serve? Are they contributing to a larger narrative by being included here?

To take a topical example… let’s compare this with Harry Potter. DR certainly has its flaws, and ndrv3 is no exception. Not only are certain unsavory “tropes” like incest played as either a punchline or a tool for fanservice, but even earlier parts of the series don’t hold up particularly well (like Chihiro’s “gender reveal”). These things are definitely not enjoyable parts of the narrative—but their presence in the narrative seems to stem from a larger issue of fanservice tropes in visual novels and anime overall, rather than some overarching attempt to either demonize any marginalized group or normalize harmful behavior in real life.

By contrast, through watching JK Rowling’s downward spiral on twitter in the last few years, we’ve seen her become more and more brazen about her hatred of trans people, and trans women in particular. Though she often attempted to brush these tweets aside at first as “middle-aged moments” or “accidents” where she wasn’t aware of the content being spouted by the people she was following, she’s become perhaps one of the most unapologetic T*RFs in the public consciousness.

No matter how much a series like Harry Potter may have shaped my and many other people’s childhoods in the past, it’s really impossible for me to go back to it nowadays as a trans individual. Re-reading the series with a much more critical eye shows that many of Rowling’s most harmful, offensive beliefs are not only something she spews on twitter every other month, but also downright woven into the narrative. Lines about “boys pretending to be girls to try and sneak into the dormitories” and Rita Skeeter’s “rather large, mannish hands” while she “disguises herself” to infiltrate the school premises just hit differently, knowing Rowling’s stance on trans issues and the disgusting harm that she advocates for with her huge platform.

I suppose that’s the biggest line I try to be aware of in deciding where I draw the line between enjoying a series while remaining critical of it, and just flat out refusing to support said series anymore. This line is understandably going to be different for different people, no doubt—but I think being mindful of what creators are actually doing with their platforms is the biggest indicator about the potential intentions behind their works.

The only other piece of advice I can think of to offer, and perhaps the most important one, is to simply support small creators with all the enthusiasm and love that you would for a large series. As long as we maintain a critical eye and awareness about the flaws within popular works like Danganronpa, I think it’s okay to keep enjoying said works. But there are so many content creators out there trying to contribute all kinds of meaningful works with better representation than anything we’ve seen in mainstream media, and it’s incredibly important to support these people so that their works can become better-known.

My best recommendation is to make sure you’re striving to support these smaller content creators: especially black artists and trans artists, who often get overlooked even when hashtags on twitter to support smaller artists are trending.

This sort of became a lengthier response than I was intending, but I felt your question deserved more of an in-depth look at the topic. I hope I was able to get my points across! Thank you for the question anon, and I really hope I could help.

[msbluebell]

Happy Birthday Dimitri

Dimitri is an important character to me.

I didn’t expect him to be. Not to me, personally. When I went into the game, I expected that he wouldn’t be my favorite. I figured he’d be the tragic fallen hero, but I didn’t think he’d hit so many buttons for me.

People like fallen heroes, and I do too, but they’re not usually my favorite characters. When I picked up this game on my way home from a trip, I looked at the cover and thought, “Claude is going to be my favorite.”

But somehow, someway, this boy hit home for me.

Maybe it’s because we get to see him before he fell apart.

Well, alright, this isn’t accurate. He was never all that put together when we meet him in game. He already had a darkness in him, and he already experienced tragedy that would lead to his downfall later. We met this boy, and I didn’t think too much of him. He was the most polite, and sweet, and those were my thoughts. My first playthrough was of Black Eagles house. Now, you all know I nearly didn’t pick the game up again I disliked Black Eagles so much. But Dimitri wasn’t why. When I killed Dimitri in the game all I thought was, “What a shame. I’m sorry guy. You seemed nice enough. I’d spare you if I could.” I’m not going to lie, I felt like his anger in CF was justified even before I cared about him. But I didn’t expect the sheer depts I would come to care for him when I was playing that first route. I obviously played church route next, since for the most part I had half got through the playthrough. And in that one I wanted to help him, but couldn’t and I thought again, “Ah, what a shame. Can’t save you here either.” Except this time we got a little more. The ghost scene got to me. It showed me his guilt, and that’s when I started paying more attention to Dimitri. I had intended to save Golden Deer route for last, but after CF and SS, I thought I deserved self care, and went with Claude. Though this time I was a little regretful I’d leave Dimitri behind. Because I understood what tragedy befalls him when you don’t choose him. Because I know that this sweet boy becomes so angry, and so regretful, and I wished there was a way to save him. Claude was a great character, and I adored him, and I adored Golden Deer. It was the break I needed after CF and SS. I loved them, and I loved their themes, and I loved their energy. I was convinced that they would be my forever favorites. My only real regret was that Dimitri died again. By this time it seemed almost horrific what was going on with Dimitri, and he somehow seemed worse off in this route than the other two. He was crazy, downright insane, and somehow lost an eye. And it was a shame. Something had obviously happened to him to drive him even further over the wall, but I didn’t feel too bad, because while it was tragic what happened to him, there wasn’t anything I could do. So I decide to finish up the game, and I’m not over invested. I like it, but I don’t think it’s going to be my fandom. It’s fun, I enjoyed it. That’s it. I’ll just finish it off and move on. Then I played Blue Lions. Dimitri had no right to do this to me. He had no right to come in and hit all my personal buttons, and make me care so much. I went into Blue Lions already caring a bit about Dimitri, but I didn’t expect him to claw at my heart the way he did. There’s a tragedy to Dimitri that spoke to me more than Claude, or Edelgard, or Rhea. It was more personal, it was more rough, it attacked a raw nerve in me I thought was healed but I suppose never did quite go away. Some people have asked me why I don’t like Edelgard, considering she’s an abuse survivor and I, also, am an abuse survivor. I think, with people who ask me this, they’re looking more at what caused the need to cope rather than the coping itself. Edelgard and I have suffered more similar abuses than Dimitri and myself, though I wouldn’t say my abuse and hers are the same at all. Still, for me, I think it’s the way we deal with the aftermath of our trauma that speaks to me more than the trauma itself. I didn’t like Edelgard, because even before the twist that she was the invading force in the game, I found her abrasive, dismissive, and unintentionally cruel where she was trying to be empathetic.  I just don’t like people who are sharp, I suppose. I never have.  I think that’s ultimately why I warmed up to Dimitri so quickly. He was kind. He is kind. He is so kind, and empathetic, that I adored him right away. I warmed up to him even more quickly than Claude, who I went in wanting and expecting to  be my favorite. He’s kind, and trying to be kind. But it doesn’t always work. I’ve got something called Hyper Empathy Syndrome. It’s a think, and it’s not really federally recognized, but my therapist says it’s a good way to describe what my issues are. I empathize too much. And you wouldn’t think that was a bad thing, but it is. It causes me untold anxiety, and I hyper empathize with people to the point where it’s almost hard to get mad at them, and I keep not wanting to let them down, and I feel guilty if I say no to them and it upsets them even a little. And, overall, it’s a huge hindrance on my life. I think Dimitri may be the same. Or maybe I’m projecting on him because I see so much of myself in him. Looking at Dimitri, and the way he developed. It was like looking to a mirror at some points and getting a glimpse into the shitty person I used to be.  Now, I’m not going to pretend I went through even half the bad shit Dimitri did. His sufferings just kept piling on and on and on over the course of the game, to the point I wondered how this boy was even alive. I wasn’t at all surprised at how bad off he was in Azure Moon, but sad. Oh, he was shitty. He was terribly shitty. But I got it. Because I’ve been there. I was younger than Dimitri was when I was shitty, so I’ve got that “middle school preteen hormone changes” excuse, but I was shittty. I wasn’t as bad as he was; I’ve never murdered someone, or nearly tortured a man, or obsessed  over a death, but I was just as unpleasant to be around. I was shit, because I wasn’t dealing with myself well. I had bad coping, and I felt alone, and used, and I couldn’t stop being angry no matter how hard I tried. My head kept telling me it was my fault, and everyone around me didn’t know how to deal with me, and they kept trying to drag me out of my comfort zone. And I lashed out against everyone around me, even though I knew it wasn’t their fault, and that only made me feel more guilty and alone and like I needed to be alone. And it was all only made worse by the Hyper Empathy.  It was a cycle of self hate and misery that I put myself through, and I saw that in Dimitri. And it hit home a little harder than I could have ever predicted.  I was rooting for Dimitri because I already loved him. I love him. He means a lot to me, and as I would come to find out her personifies everything that I believe about humanity; that no matter how bad we get we can still come back. Dimitri is someone that suffered, fell from grace, brainwashed himself into suffering more, all while suffering from a mental illness, and was still able to come back with some help and a whole lot of work and self reflection.  Dimitri is someone that was surrounded by loved ones who wanted to help him but mostly didn’t know how to, people who supported him, but it wasn’t enough. He had to pull himself out, with support. and it wasn’t easy. Hell, it wasn’t easy to support him either. There was a point where he got so low I legitimately thought there would be no going back for him. I almost gave up. But I didn’t want to, and I didn’t, and it’s because despite it all I still loved who he was and wanted him to get better. And he did. And I guess that gave me hope. I guess it made me hopeful that if he could get better from all that, then maybe it wasn’t impossible for other bad people to get better. It made me happy. It made me appreciate him. It made me thankful. Dimitri gave me hope that people could be better than they were, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. It’s actually not all that often a character affects me this much. And maybe it seems dumb to others that a fictional character could affect my life so much, but then again, no one has a right to judge me for where I find hope. Dimitri isn’t just a character I liked, he’s a character that gave me hope. He’s a character that came back from that bad place. He’s a character that basically looked at me and said, “You can come back from this.” And I’m trying so hard to be better.  Dimitri and I have a lot of the same issue. The guilt, the self hate, the blame, other things. And he still has people that love him, people that don’t give up on him. And, yeah, them being there isn’t always helpful, heck, in some case it makes his issues worse. But they’re there for when he comes back, and they help him, and that gives me more hope too. But nothing gives me more hope than the fact that he came back. And when he came back, he worked to be better. And he forgave. And I feel like that makes him so much stronger than me. Because I don’t think I could have forgave to the same level that he had. I couldn’t look the woman I thought ruined my life in the eye and forgive her. I don’t think I could face a man who did ruin my life in the eye after he told me he’d do it again in the name of justice. I couldn’t forgive to Dimitri’s level. He’s come a long way, Dimitri, and I am so proud of him. Happy Birthday Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, thank you for showing me I can be better.

[threehouses-heroes]

hiiiii how would felix, sylvain, seteth, and claude react to their s/o playing with their hair after a long day?

Ooooh this one was so much fun to imagine I might have got a lil carried away ^^ I do hope that it’s okay hun~

-

Felix

♡ Felix does his best to make use of whatever free time he has, so you won’t catch him idly twitching thumbs anytime soon – what he does do during breaks is practical things, which is why you find him doing maintenance on some of his weapons when you decide to seek him out. His hair is up as usual, but his tasks earlier today have left it messy, barely held up by the band and he doesn’t seem interested is retying. It was this sight that sparked the idea that perhaps you could help fix it and before you knew it you were reaching over to do exactly that.  

♡ Felix is perceptive of his surroundings however, so much so that you can’t even get close to his hair before he’s caught your hand with his own, tilting his head back to fix you with a piercing stare as he asks “What are doing?” At first he huffs at your explanation but he does pause when you ask if you can take care of it for him. There’s a few seconds of no response and you think he’s going to refuse when he shrugs and releases your hand, going back to what he was doing with a “Fine. Do as you please”

♡He’s easy to work with and doesn’t even flinch when you pull out the band and start smoothing out the messy strands, combing through it with your fingers until it’s in good enough condition to work with, though even then you spend a little while idly playing around with some of the longer locks and he doesn’t stop you, if anything you can see that he’s beginning to relax into your touch, his work on his sword slowing down considerably in favour of tilting his head back ever so slightly into your hands.

♡There’s a content silence between the two of you as you work, and you eventually settle for tying it up into a bun as best as you can, and though there are a couple of strands that refuse to stay put you’re content enough to leave it there, instead resting your hands onto Felix’s shoulders as he brings a hand up to get a feel for the new style. He hums out “Hm, not bad” though before you can move he catches your hand once again, this time to press a kiss to the back of it – his own way of thanking you – before returning back to the task at hand.

 Sylvain

♡After a long day Sylvain’s more than ready to drop onto the nearest soft object in his room and tap out for the night and that’s exactly what he’d planned to do, face buried into his pillow and consciousness just barely beginning to wane when he feels your hands working their way into his hair. It peaks his attention enough that he shifts to look up at you, one eye opening with a half-asleep hum questioning what you were up to.

♡When you tell him that you merely wanted to play with his hair it gets a chuckle out of him but after a few moments of pause he concedes, rolling over to give you better access to the majority of his hair with permission to mess with it as much as you’d like. He leans into your touch a little more as you mess around with his hair, to the point his head is more or less in your lap, comforted by the movements of your hands ever so gently petting his head between twirling locks of his hair between your fingers.

♡It’s a relaxing enough experience, though Sylvain constantly chimes in with ideas on what to do next – maybe his hair’s long enough for a ponytail? He could definitely rock a couple of braids don’t you think? Or maybe you just want to pin it back? Some of his suggestions are downright hilarious but he soon clams up when you shoot back a couple terrible ideas of your own so he doesn’t spur you on to actually go through with them.

♡By the time you’re satisfied with your work Sylvain’s got a few short braids decorating his otherwise unruly hair and he nearly pulls them undone again with how much he fiddles with them. Eventually he props his head up with one hand, turning back to you with a grin, asking “How is it? Does it make me look good~?” followed by an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle that breaks whatever silence was left as the two of you dissolve into laughter. He’ll tug you down to his level for a couple of kisses as a reward for completion of your oh so noble task of trying to tame his hair, eventually settling for burying his face into your hair and wrapping his arms around you, effectively locking you into place as he reasons that a good nap wouldn’t hurt after all that work – and after seeing the content smile on his face as he absentmindedly messes with your handiwork you’re inclined to agree with him.

Seteth

♡Seteth spends a lot of time in the office working on documents when he isn’t attending to monastery duties, so it’s no surprise that he’s doing exactly that though this time you’re right there with him, settled on his lap and overlooking his work with the sounds of fluttering papers and the scrawl of a quill being the only sounds breaking the comfortable silence. While you’re both content it’s quite easy to get distracted when the number of things to do is limited, so when you spot a few locks of hair hanging loose you’re quick to push it back into place only to notice a couple more pieces that could really use some attention, then a couple more, then some more. Eventually you swivel around to get a better view of what you’re working with and that is when Seteth catches your eye, eyebrow raised in questioning.

♡The fact that you tell him not to worry about it and continue playing with his hair does little to answer his questions but he lets you continue, refocusing back on his work now able to rest his chin on your shoulder as the two of you work on your respective tasks. He has to admit that there is something relaxing about these simple acts of intimacy and having you here looking so determined as you focused with intertwining and untangling his hair makes his own work seem a lot more manageable with the good company.

♡He doesn’t terribly mind when you start pulling his hair back, using a band to wrap it up into what he can assume is a ponytail – he’s done it himself a few times when it became too much of a nuisance to handle especially on longer nights where he has to pour all of his focus into his office duties. If anything having you do it for him is a calming experience, your movements providing somewhat of a comfort.

♡The only other time he pauses in his writing is when he hears your triumphant “aha!” and suddenly feels something slide onto his head. He instinctively reaches up to feel the smooth band that you’ve used to push the remaining strands of hair out of his face and the confusion on his face soon melts into one of his more endearing smiles. The band unfortunately doesn’t stay put for very long, and soon enough he puts it on your own head with a few words about how it suits you better (it’s really just an excuse to get close enough to press a kiss to your cheek though) but for the rest of his working hours he keeps the style up, chuckling whenever you fuss over any pieces that come loose and ensure that it’s fixed properly.

Claude

♡Claude’s bundled up on a sofa the first chance of a break that he gets, although it’s not much of a break with the sheer number of nick knacks he’s got surrounding him. Thankfully most of its forgotten since he’s got you in his arms so he lets himself relax, leaning his head back against his free arm and closing his eyes enjoying the feeling of pressure against his chest. He’s relaxed but still alert, so once he feels you hand brushing against his cheeks he can already tell that you’re up to something, though each time he opens his eyes to check you’ve got that same trying but not-quite innocent grin on your face. It’s only when your hands actually manage to reach for his hair that he really reacts though, squeezing your waist and hoisting you both up to get a surprised squeal out of you.

♡You’re quick to tell him that you merely wanted to play with his hair, and once he knows that’s the only thing you had planned he’s all for letting you do what you want with his hair (within reason), but you can bet he’ll want to do the same in return! So the moment that your hands actually start running through his hair he’s messing with your own hair, not really working it into any particular style in favour of just feeling it between his fingers whilst you work on doing whatever you please.

♡It’s really hard not to get distracted with Claude while you’re doing each other’s hair as every time the two of you make eye contact neither one can help but smile and laugh – it’s such a seemingly mundane activity but even Claude can make it feel like a game, something entertaining that makes keeping a straight face nearly impossible. And even then when he’s not making you laugh he’ll be trying to sneak in surprise kisses to distract you, some of which you can intercept if you’re fast enough and really fire back the surprise.

♡Claude’s content with whatever you decide on, though he’s happiest when you manage to work his hair into some sort of braid – it’s only short and without a band won’t hold for very long but the charming smile that washes over his face as he admires your handiwork makes it all the more worth it. He pulls you back against his side and falls back unceremoniously onto the sofa once you’re done, wanting to spend a little longer playing with your own hair, all the while peppering kisses across your forehead as he does so.

[adabassist]

SKATING AWAY ON THE FRETLINES OF A NEW DAY

I expect that there’s not a single electric bassist out there who can’t remember the first time they got to play a fretless bass. The difference in the sonic, visual, tactile, even the emotional experience - it leaves an impression on almost every player, whether they pursue the instrument or not. It’s really as close to the human voice as a bass is gonna get. It’s a truly seductive instrument; it’s even downright sexy. If Kathleen Turner played bass, I’d bet you a dollar she’d play a fretless.

The passion I developed for this instrument consumed me; once I discovered the fretless bass, fretted basses became boring, limiting, and they just felt plain weird. I had a fretless with me everywhere I went, every gig, every studio date, every rehearsal, every trip out of town. I even took it on dates; hey, you never know, right?

My introduction to the instrument was anything but unique: my high school band teacher suggested that I get an album called Heavy Weather by a jazz fusion band called Weather Report. Upon hearing the opening track, “Birdland”, I immediately recognized the sound I was hearing as a bass, but it sounded like what that bassist was doing was impossible! As far as I knew, without a whammy bar, there was no way to make those harmonic notes move and slide like that… so I brought the cassette to my teacher and played the intro for him, and asked him how they were doing that… he said, “Well, isn’t Jaco Pastorius the king of the fretless bass?”

I said, “King of the what? And who’s Jaco?”

What followed was a desperate attempt to get my hands on a fretless, even just to try it; none of the music stores around had them (living in a flyover state with the nearest metropolis over an hour away has its disadvantages), nobody I knew had one or even knew anybody else who had one, and when I finally found an upstart guitar company who made a stock affordable fretless, my folks wouldn’t get it for me because, not being terribly musically inclined, they couldn’t understand why I would need a 2nd bass.

At this point my teacher moved away, and I found a new teacher at the music store the next town over. And HE happened to have a fretless bass, and he let me borrow it that summer while he was on vacation. He dropped it off on his way out of town, pretty close to midnight. I took it down into the basement and pulled it out and was all set to plug it in when I heard, “DON’T TURN THAT AMPLIFIER ON, YOUR SISTER IS SLEEPING!”

Jeez, not anymore I bet, Mom. “Okay, okay, I won’t turn it on…”

But there I sat, on my barstool in the basement, bass strapped over my shoulder, just plucking the strings and sliding my fingers up and down the fingerboard. For a good half an hour. If I had smoked, I would have needed a cigarette afterwards. (I told you it was sexy.)

The next morning I realized how amazingly difficult it was to play that bass in tune. No lines, hardly any useful reference points. Very difficult to figure out where I was on the bass. But the tone it created, and my desire to make more tones like that, superseded any concern about how much practice this was going to take. I finally got my very own fretless - a Rickenbacker 4001 - and really began concentrating on mastering it (much to the detriment of my grades in school).

One of my favorite things about the fretless bass is that the tone really lends itself to lyrical melodies. The instrument takes on qualities of the human voice in the middle to upper registers. And I found myself learning horn parts to jazz tunes as well as more traditional bass lines like those from my favorite rock bands, which ended up serving me really well down the road.

Another favorite thing is the fact that many fretless basses used to be fretted basses, and the slots leftover from said frets being removed usually get filled in with material of a contrasting color to the surrounding wood. These are known as “fret lines”, and if used correctly, they can greatly enhance one’s ability to play notes in tune. They are also the subject of great controversy among we bass nerds, as there are those who feel it’s “cheating” somehow. For my money, I’m on Team Fretlines.

So I practiced and practiced, and even went to music school for a year after high school, and came home and kept practicing. One thing led to another, and less than a year after I returned, I found myself auditioning for a band in the area that had already been signed to a small local record label, and was getting some pretty big gigs around the country, and needed a true fretless bassist, as opposed to a bassist who trots out a fretless as a novelty on stage for one song. Unbelievably, I landed the gig. Of course the REAL work was just beginning, but I was blessed with a really fast and accurate ear, and they decided to give me a shot.

I soon realized how green I really was compared to true professional musicians, and I had to make a concerted effort to keep up, but after a lot of hard work, not only did I learn to behave as a pro, but I really sharpened my ear and its relationship to my fingers… I was developing the ability to create a phrase in my head, and play it on my first attempt. (This is a big deal for musicians; imagine not being able to say much to anyone unless you practice it over and over, and you’ll have an idea of how most musicians approach music.)

Several years later (same band), I get a call from my keyboard player, who wants me to come in to the band studio the next morning before rehearsal (we recorded at one band member’s house, and practiced at another’s in the same neighborhood) so I can put down a bass melody for a demo of a song he’s writing for the next album.

I show up with my bass at 8am (yeech!), and we start discussing the song: “I need you to double that melody with the cheesy synth-sax sound. The song goes through the same chord progression 3 times, and the melody occurs during the 1st and the 3rd pass.”

“Got it. What happens during the 2nd pass? Should I just take a solo over the chords?”

“No, I’m going to have my sax player friend replace the synth melody, and he’s going to do a solo, so just leave it empty.”

Plugged in, got signal and levels. I was taught the melody - beautiful, and not too complicated. Cool little chord progression with a twist. He hit the record button, and I played the melody I had just learned along with the track.

As I played the final note, preparing to rest for the next 32 bars, he dropped a bomb in my lap: “Why don’t you just throw down a solo here anyway.”

This was exactly ZERO WARNING, for a song I had heard for the first time about 10 minutes prior. It’s like being thrown an enormous water balloon at 94 mph and being expected to catch it.

That’s when my brain became my best friend.

My ears said to my brain: here’s what should come next. tell the fingers to make this happen…

My brain said: i can do that! fingers, do this, this, and this, and then this.

And the phrase I thought would sound great instantly came out of the studio speakers.

I didn’t have time to be shocked; my ears were ready for the next phrase, giving orders to my brain, which meted them out. This happened at least a dozen times in a row, right up until the melody was supposed to re-enter. And my ears, having connected a long series of invisible dots over the last 60 seconds or so, even properly glued the last phrase to the beginning of the melody. It was like a factory assembly line: my frontal cortex had an idea, my ears refined it and made sure it fit the chords, the frontal cortex figured out where those notes had to be on the fingerboard, the motor cortex took those plans and sent the signals down to my fingers. And each set of “orders” took less time than the blink of an eye.

I peeked up after I got to the “safe zone” of the out melody (which I already knew), and my keyboard player’s jaw was on his chest. I had to remind myself to concentrate; after all, I was still recording.

When I finished, he hit the stop button, turned to me, and said, “How did you do THAT??”

I didn’t quite understand, so he rewound the tape and played back what I had just recorded.

And I was treated to a sonic representation of the way my brain and ears operate when they’re in top form. I had no memory of playing the actual solo (and I still don’t); it was a true transcendental experience. Yet, as I listened back to the track, I KNEW every note I was about to hear as if I had been waiting my entire life to play that solo. It was like a perfectly written story that practically told itself. 25 years later and I still know it by heart; haven’t thought of a single thing I’d do different. It was a complete stream-of-consciousness expression, in fretless bass solo form. I’ve never had another experience like it since.

We both kind of sat there for a few seconds after the song ended, and he finally said, “I don’t care what anyone else says; for my money, this song’s done. Let’s show this to the band at rehearsal.”

So we took it along and played it for everyone else. Everyone loved it, but the bandleader said, “I know that was an amazing solo, but there’s already too much fretless on the upcoming record. I think the solo should be sax instead. I hope you understand.”

And I did understand, even if it was a bit of a bummer. Oh well, at least I had a copy of my solo on cassette tape for posterity.

Sax player showed up a few days later, on a day when I wasn’t there, to play the melody and do a solo, but there was a problem - he had been sent the same demo tape that I had, with my solo on it, and it was influencing his improv in a way that didn’t really suit the sax. He finally said, “I need to skip the solo. The melody is fine, no problem, but I keep veering off course during the solo because I hear the bass solo in my head so strongly.”

So the bandleader calls me and tells me what happened, and that he’s decided that HE will play an electric jazz guitar solo over the chord changes (he did this regularly in the group, and to great effect). Okay, great. Curious as to what I’ll hear in two days when it’s done.

Two days later I get another phone call: “I can’t do it. I keep playing stuff that works great on the guitar, and it fits the changes nicely, but the phrases just sound disconnected, I keep hearing your solo in my head, and I can’t seem to fix it. Would you mind if I transcribed your fretless solo and played it on the jazz guitar?”

“Feel free, it’d be an honor,” I said. Good thing FaceTime wasn’t a thing back then, because I’m sure I was smirking.

The next day I arrived at the studio to record another song for the new record, where I find the bandleader standing outside shaking his head.

“Did you finish the solo? How’d it go?”

“Yep. And I hate it.”

“What happened?”

“I spent over an hour last night transcribing your part. And I just spent another hour recording it. You know what it sounds like?”

I had an answer ready, but I wasn’t about to say it out loud if I didn’t have to. I figured I’d let him say it instead, which he did:

“It sounds like a bunch of great fretless bass licks, played on the wrong instrument. I think we should just use your original bass solo.”

Now that’s taking the long way around to come to the right decision.

When I look back on that moment, I find it amazing that I don’t remember coming up with the phrases, and I certainly don’t remember anything happening that pulled me out of that “mode” I was in; the solo all but wrote itself, and I was simply the conduit. But I remember my bandmate’s reaction.

Since then, I have tried to conjure that mojo dozens of times, with varying degrees of success, but never quite to that level. But it showed me what was possible within the realm of performance. All those scales and exercises and hours upon hours of practice were paid off in that one instance of musical epiphany and pure expression. It was enough to ensure I’ll die a happy man.

[breadknight-likes-things]

Bread’s Skate (?!) Journal 09/06/20: The Other Ones: A Look Back On The Tony Hawk Imitators Of The Early 2000's....And BMX XXX.

Looking back at Tony Hawk as a series that's pretty solidly in the past can cause someone to easily forget how those games were actually thought of at the time: Hyper popular.  As a result of that popularity, it was easy to see a bunch of other games and franchises that wanted a piece of that money, some from Activision themselves, some....very much not.  Some of these games were good!  Some of these games were so bad that they've become something of a legendary laughing stock in the game landscape as a whole.  

As I said, Activision was no stranger to trying to apply the Tony Hawk formula to other sports in an attempt to cash in on the extreme success of their franchise.  Sometimes these cash in's actually made for decent, if unoriginal games.  Matt Hoffman's Pro BMX was more or less a carbon copy of the Tony Hawk formula, but with BMX Bikes instead of Skateboards, and it actually worked pretty well once you got used to the inherent differences of the two different styles.  Other attempts were not quite as fortunate as Matt Hoffman though, and both of them sort of had the same "downhill" problem.   Shaun Palmers Pro Snowboarder was an attempt to put the Tony Hawk formula into a snowboarding game, and while that should reasonably work, the linear and all downhill nature of the levels really didn't lend themselves to a fun time.  

Following from Shaun Palmer was "Wakeboarding Unleashed featuring Shaun Murray" which is quite a title!  It was originally revealed with the far more descriptive name as "Shaun Murray's Pro Wakeboarder" but I have to assume that was changed to...distance the game from Tony Hawk?  It's a confusing move to say the least.  The game was actually quite decent, more so than you'd assume from something like a wakeboarding game, and you can tell there was some talent behind it, the games issue was that, by design, it was pretty much always on rails.  You were literally pulled through the levels behind a speed boat, and even though there was plenty to trick off, it lent a feeling that you were just being guided to the cool set pieces rather than actually doing any exploration of your own, it deserved better.  Hell, it at least deserves it's own Wikipedia page, the only mention of it at all is on Shaun Murray's very small Wikipedia entry, an ignoble end for a game that least tried something new.

I had to find a screenshot for Shaun Murray, which I swear is real, and this is the only one I could easily find online.  I swear this game happened!

Of course Activision wasn't the only studio trying to capitalize on the extreme sports craze and the Tony Hawk trick heavy style.  EA found what I would consider the greatest success with franchises like SSX, and one entry wonders like Freakstyle (which is a seminal game for me as a kid, but one I feel very few people even know exist), a sort of blend of SSX and racing through the lens of Motocross.  Hell, eventually EA would make Skate, which outlived Tony Hawk itself for a few years, and I already wrote about earlier this week, an excellent franchise that was nonetheless heavily inspired by THPS.

Now, there are far more imitators and hanger on's, some good (Splashdown, while closer to Wave Race, definitely stole some of it's vibes from THPS). Some incredibly bad (Gravity Games: Vert, Street, Dirt,  an abysmally bad Tony Hawk ripoff from the early 2000's immediately springs to mind) and some downright strange (Four words: Disney's Extreme Skate Adventure).  But only one company tried so hard and failed so miserably, and that's Acclaim, and BMX XXX.

This is genuinely what some of the worst impulses of the video game industry look like.

Acclaim had found success early on by getting Dave Mirra Freestyle BMX out only one year after Tony Hawk's Pro Skater, and it certainly wasn't a terrible game.  It felt a little clunkier than what came out of Neversoft at the time, but it was definitely playable.  Acclaim also went on to put out Aggressive Inline, which, while it might sound insane to say about an inline skating video game, is genuinely one of the best extreme sports games ever made.  So Acclaim had real reason to believe they actually could put something out that would rival Tony Hawk!  Then they put out BMX XXX.  

BMX XXX is one of the most insipidly stupid things that any company has ever produced, certainly one of the worst video games ever made, and was so bad that Dave Mirra forced Acclaim to take his name off of it before release.  You really can boil this game down to two things: Dave Mirra's okay BMX game play, and the horn-dog mindset of a 13 year old boy that just found an issue of Hustler in the woods.  It's incredibly embarrassing!  Full of hookers, pimps, literal strip club videos, dogs fucking and humor that was shitty and mean spirited even by the standards of 2004.  It's astounding that anybody thought this game would sell at all, let alone do the impressive numbers they wanted for it.  Even the console manufacturers didn't really seem to want this thing on their consoles, Sony out and out censored the nudity even (which yes, the game featured full polygonal breasts, and they are horrifying to look at today), and though the other two allowed the nudity to slide, they made it pretty clear they thought the game was terrible.

BMX XXX is a punchline today, rightfully, but I think it did so much harm to the idea of a competing extreme sports franchise, that any further attempt to really hone in on an Tony Hawk alike just sort of stopped right there.  It actually came out pretty early on, in 2002, long before some of the other games I've mentioned on this list even, but the damage it did was impossible to ignore.  Activision kept trying, we still got the occasional excellent SSX game, and we got Skate.  Hell, we even got Ubisoft making a couple of tries, first with Shaun White doing a snowboarding and Skateboarding game, then with Steep.  The concept wasn't killed entirely, a favorite of mine, Amped 3 for Xbox 360, even came out just a few years later, but it felt like the spirit was gone, and it never really came back.  Thankfully, these days, we have more independent developers putting out their own vision of what an extreme sports game can be.  I hope this new generation of developers can really get us back to the glory days of the extreme sports game, and even if they don't end up making it too far, at least they're going to try.

And things might get a little weird.

[blankdblank]

Ring of Roses

ABBA, The winner takes it all! 

This is day 25, still finishing the 24th prompt, hopefully i can finish that here in a bit and either get it up today or tomorrow after work depending on when i drop off to sleep.  --- Hope you like it and please don’t ask me why Dis came off as a Southern Belle in my mind for this story.  :D

…

Breathing hard you took on the tallest hill in this green tree dominated wonderland you continued running trying to get yourself up this impossible feat once in this century as every year you found yourself here for the yearly race of the best thoroughbreds in Elven lands. You could hear it though, the dually truck usually lapping you on your daily runs and again you had kept to your side of the street yet a ‘whoo’ that came too close for your liking with a gust of wind afterwards had you, in their reaching the top of the hill a moment later, squeaking in pain as your foot slid off the road and into the only dip in the inexplicably tall hill securing your luck for the day. A hard slam into the ground jammed your shoulder and sent you into a triple roll stopping at the fence on your right.

Staring up at the sky you mumbled, “So fucking close…The universe just doesn’t want me to beat this hill…”

Inhaling deeply you winced as you shifted your twisted ankle making your hands rise to press to your watering eyes, you had broken bones before and been fine but it seemed every banged knee, elbow and foot had you almost on the floor with twisted ankles having your life teetering on the end, of which you’ve had millions and lived to whine about to whatever caused the injury. Usually you didn’t have an audience but the sound of dirt shifting and a group of bellows in the distance had your hands lowering to peer up at the Giant Elk peering down at you over the fence. “Hello Handsome.”

A hard exhale from him and his glance at your ankle had you moving to sit up grimacing about the sting in your shoulder you rolled exhaling at the loud pop from it. The sound of an engine died with a truck coming into view with another whimper from you seeing the blonde you had been failing to talk to since you were kids. Your father ran the championship each year and owns the race track meaning you were the one to act as announcer and presenter for the winner’s ring each year, now being far more appealing than adorable as you once were for the racers, with it being more of a challenge for each to see who could catch your number. Sitting up in an ease out his open window your breathing quickened seeing the slightly bubbly partially wet Elf in just jeans turning around to look at you after the herd had motioned over to you. Back inside he slid and made the short drive over to the fence where he parked and hopped over it.

I don't wanna talk

About things we've gone through

Though it's hurting me, now it's history

I've played all my cards

And that's what you've done, too

Nothing more to say, no more ace to play

Looking you over the blonde wet his lips and crouched asking, “Are you injured Miss Pear?”

Weakly you chuckled forcing your eyes to remain locked on his and not anywhere else while his breathing steadied and his chiseled body screamed at you to ogle away in the easing of bubbles down his chest. “Just the Douglass brothers in their truck whooing again.”

His brow inched up, “Whooing?”

“You know, like ‘Whoo!’” The last word you added a weak try at a celebratory ‘Whoo’ and he nodded, “And I managed to slip into the only pothole on this damn hill like a twit, twenty feet away! Every time! I can never make it up this hill!”

Unable to help it he smirked and said, “You fell pretty hard then? I’ve seen you sprinting up it before, must have been going fast.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to if those assholes could stop lapping me in their damn truck. I’m close to throwing a rock at them.”

Slowly his eyes slid over you, normally an act from other men making you squirm but the town vet’s son’s inquisitive search for injuries ended with your awkwardly locked ankle you were refusing to move had him shifting on his feet to lower a knee and extend his hands. “May I?”

His eyes locked on yours and you nodded making him look back to your ankle he gently eased his fingers around, “It’s not broken, just my millionth sprain of the year. Usually I can just outwait them and I can get up fine.”

Smirking up at you in his move to cradle your foot he carefully slid the shoe he had unlaced off he replied, “Doesn’t seem bad.”

Your head tilted, “You don’t know me, I’m downright laughable, bumped elbows can have me in tears but I’ve run marathons with breaks easy.”

Making him smirk for a moment before lowering his gaze missing your grimace in his rotating your foot and ankle, “Movement is fine. Not sprained from what I can tell, best to keep the jog tomorrow to a slow trot if you won’t skip a day.”

You nodded reluctantly even though you took the runs to catch glimpses at him in passing. “I guess I can hike instead.” Making him smirk and lower your foot to the ground carefully.

“You look thirsty. I can make you some tea if you wish.”

With a nod you said, “Ok. I’ll,”

Scooting around you his arms looped around your back and legs to lift you as he stood bringing you nearly eye level with the Elk almost grinning at you pleased you weren’t injured badly. Carefully he set you on the fence and turned to grab your shoe he carried in his hop over making you jealous at his nearly seven foot figure to do so with ease while you as a Vanyar stood at 5 ft 9, an adorably petite version of the statuesque women you  were forced to grow with hating your place on the screen for standing out. Again you were scooped up and he carried you around to slide with you into the passenger seat he left you on and slid back across the bench to his seat after closing the door for you.

Carefully he turned easing around the Elk and made way back to his three story wood and stone house bearing floor to ceiling windows to let in the best views. “Wow.”

Grinning in a glance over at you he parked saying, “Naneth designed it, her and Ada have an identical one on the other side of the hills closer to town.”

“You prefer living alone?”

Weakly he chuckled, “It was for me and my ex, we, had my son right out of school. They wanted a wedding but she didn’t. Him and I live here.”

“Oh, the other blonde, Leggy, I always thought you were just an overly loving older brother, how old is he?”

Again he chuckled and climbed out strolling around the truck to open your door to scoop you up and lift your shoe, “Nearly 500 now. Hopefully he hasn’t tried to cook anything while I was showering or gone.” The last sentence almost mumbled to himself in concern rather than to you. His voice picked up though as he added in a quick grin to you peering up at him, “Gone to Uni, smartest kid I know but terrible luck with toaster ovens.” Making you giggle to yourself widening his grin.

“Ada, what was wrong with the herd?” You heard from the staircase in his entering through the open door he nudged closed with his foot again and tuned to stride to the stairs peering up at the now wide eyed blonde teen in shorts.

“Douglass brothers ran Miss Pear off the road.” Pulling back he made for the living room as his son hurried down the stairs.

“What?! Should we call the Sheriff?”

Thranduil, “Sheriff is their uncle. Here, elevate this, we’ll ice it to be safe.”

With a sigh you pulled your buzzing phone out of your arm pouch and unlocked it while Legolas helped to prop up your foot. As it was being settled on pillows you answered your brother’s call, “Hey Jelly bean,”

“Finally make the hill?”

“Nope, the Douglass brothers lapped me again and ran me off the road, twisted my ankle, the Greenleafs are going to help me ice it and making me tea.” You could hear the sharp inhale and feel the irritation building in his chest.

“I’m gonna call you back. ADA!!”

Hanging up the phone you saw the pair of blondes staring wide eyed at the phone they heard the shout through making Legolas’ pursed lips part to say, “Their uncle is the Sheriff but I doubt they can hide from Mr Pear.”

Thranduil sat down on the cushioned bench they put your foot up on and gently wrapped it with a towel and covered that with a bag of frozen strawberries making you smirk at him before he said, “We have to thaw them anyways for dessert.”

You shrugged, “At least I can help you in return,” making him chuckle in Legolas’ pop up.

“I’ll fix the tea!” He said then darted off as your hands eased around the ties on your cut off sweat shorts under your loose tank top in mint green matching the end of your silvery curl filled ponytail that slipped from its bun on your last hill.

Thranduil’s eyes darted from your dazzling purple pair to your shoulder saying, “Mind if I check your arm?”

You shook your head, “Nope.” He nodded and stepped over your legs to sit beside you on the couch with brows furrowed in focus between glances at your familiar antler design necklace of silver antlers around a moonstone for the head you smiled and smoothed your fingers over, “Your Naneth sent it to me after I spotted hers in passing in the markets. I never did get to thank her properly, I do love it. It’s perfect.”

Thranduil grinned saying, “I will tell her.” As he looked to your arm again he said, “It suits you.”

“I always have loved Elk. I’ve seen them run, few times I’ve gotten distracted up the hill watching them run. Some are faster than stallions I’ve seen.”

Thranduil chuckled, “Yes, even the Douglass Mare can’t touch Tuo for speed.”

“I don’t know why you don’t race them then.” Making him look up at you with brows raised, “No rule against it. Plus it’d be nice to not have Luti in the circle again, smug jerk needs to be knocked down.”

Thranduil chuckled again then said, “You have a small scrape, I’ll clean it.”

He stood and went to fetch his kit as Legolas hurried over with a full try making you giggle at the tea, crackers, cheese and sliced fruit. “Didn’t know what you’d like but there’s a bit of everything, and the tea is best straight but we have some of Gran’s honey if you’d like?”

You shook your head with a grin up at him, “No thank you.” After a cautious sip on the hot tea you asked, “Are you training to be a vet too?”

He nodded and wet his lips, “Do you do any hobbies besides the presenting?”

“I, um, actually finished a cosmetology degree. Been trying to work up to asking at Dis’ beauty shop in town, but I don’t have much experience out of school and Dwarves take hair very seriously.”

Legolas chuckled, “No doubt she’ll take you in.”

Slightly uncertain your brows scrunched up and you asked, “Really?”

Legolas, “She said Gorgo is expecting again and needs some time off soon, you could train now and possibly have her seat when she does. We don’t get many new faces to town so I’m certain she’d love to have some fresh stories to hear.”

Slightly relieved you said, “Thank you.” Sipping on the tea again before blurting out, “Ada’s been patient with me figuring out what I wanted to do, and it might have seemed frivolous but I mean, a hairstyle can change your day, for better or worse.”

Legolas nodded and readied to say something only to look at the door in another truck driving up, “Ooh, Gramps.”

Oropher hurried up the porch and Legolas went to talk to him as Thranduil came back and sat beside you eyeing the box he opened and grabbed an alcohol watch he tore the pouch to bringing it out to wipe the scrape gingerly listening to Oropher being informed of it all. Within moments he came in grinning looking you over and joined the conversation spreading their grins as you learned more about their herds that when your brother Jelly Bean had showed up they promised you could come and see any time as you were carried off. For future runs you were told that you had permission to run along the path inside their fence up the hill to keep you safe from any repeats. Gratefully you thanked them and wished them an enjoyable dessert as the truck you were settled into backed up and turned to head home.

.

Jelly Bean, “Are you in pain?”

You shook your head in his third glance over at you, “Just because you have 600 years on me doesn’t make me a baby, you know that.”

“I’ll be damned if it doesn’t! Out of the twelve of us you are the baby and the only girl at that! Nobody hurts you! Ada’s talked to the Sheriff, if he could he’d have barred them from the races but they’ve already paid and we’ve no grounds technically to refund and reject them.”

You shook your head, “Didn’t think so, but at least th fuss might make them leave me alone for a bit.”

Jelly Bean chuckled, “Well, if they try to get close to you the only one in the winner’s circle will be Gummy Bear in a dress.” Making you giggle as he chuckled himself.

 *

The winner takes it all

The loser's standing small

Beside the victory

That's her destiny

 Damn he loved you. For so long he’d wished to talk to you but never felt enough to approach the wealthiest man in Greenwood for his daughter’s courtship as a single father from his teens. Every year him and his son had watched the footage of the winners being interviewed by you and each year the exclusive Champion’s Ball no details had been shared and in passing it was common knowledge you were more than curious as to what it could entail.

With a smirk Legolas approached his father as Oropher helped to prep the strawberries to add to the ice cream maker and the strawberry shortcakes they were going to have. Thranduil glanced down at his awkwardly spreading smirk making him ask, “What is that look for?”

Legolas shook his head, “No reason, just gave Miss Pear your number.” Oropher smiled amusedly turning to the pair watching Thranduil’s brows shoot up and mouth drop, Legolas poked him in the stomach, “She just finished her cosmetology license and was nervous about asking Dis for a place in her shop, I said you might be able to help arrange an introduction.”

Thranduil, “Leg!”

Oropher, “I think that’s a wonderful idea!”

Thranduil, “I don’t even know how I would be able to do that!”

Legolas gave him a hug and peered up at him making his father sigh feeling his messy bun he’d tied up to keep his hair dry shifting forward on his head in doing so, “Come on! She likes you, you like her, just, hint to Dis you might need some help and she’ll lasso her in right off.”

Thranduil, “I am not using Dis-,”

Oropher, “Either way when Dis finds out she wants a place she’ll start plotting, so get in now or be set up yourself.” Making Thranduil sigh again hugging is son back in thought.

 *

I was in your arms

Thinking I belonged there

I figured it made sense, building me a fence

Building me a home

Thinking I'd be strong there

But I was a fool playing by the rules

 Even Tuo had heard the comments. Year after year the Douglass brothers boasting their stallions and mares were the best and fastest around leading to their milling about the usual racing paths where they would overpass the billion dollar creatures by full body lengths only worsening the insults sent the Greenleaf way. It was that time of year again for antlers to be shed and it only made the bucks all the more furious without their usual weapons to attack those issuing them.

Another drive by had shouts hurled at Thranduil and Tuo saw red, in his return home he readied for bed after a drink only to pause at the newspaper being hurled at him to scatter across the floor revealing the sheets packed with news of all the incoming challengers. There was still time, and in the locking of eyes Thranduil knew it, either with or without him his Elk was going to do something drastic.

 *

The gods may throw a dice

Their minds as cold as ice

And someone way down here

Loses someone dear

The winner takes it all (Takes it all)

The loser has to fall (Has to fall)

It's simple and it's plain (It seems plain)

Why should I complain? (Why complain)

 A bell rang from an opening door passed by and through the front door of the town mini spa center Thranduil strolled and for the bright blue hair center between the pink facial center and the nail salon he entered Dis’ domain. He was spotted in his approach and the raucous laughter from inside dwindled to whispers on why he could be coming in making Dis stroll up to the front counter with a grin from relaxing in her own chair.

“Morning Thranduil, come to get a gift certificate for Taule again?”

He shook his head, “No, not here for Naneth today.” Exhaling softly he lowered folding his arms on the counter making the women at the other end of the shop lean in closer. “This is a bit uncomfortable to ask, however, you know Miss Pear?”

“Yes,” her eyes narrowed for a moment, “How is that-,”

Thranduil shook his head, “I saw her yesterday,”

Urgently she cut him off resting her hand on his crossed arms, “How is she?! We heard those Douglass boys ran her off the road!” At that the women all rushed over and Dis said with a smirk, “Heard you were the one to swoop in and save her.”

Thranduil sighed and said, “I wanted to come, because she happened to share she just got her cosmetology license,” Dis’ mouth dropped open excitedly, “And that she was a bit nervous on approaching a Dwarf owned shop for a job. Legolas offered I could, arrange a meeting.”

Did patted his arm again, “Of course we’ll give her a training spot!” The women all agreed nodding as they did, each offering lessons on varying techniques making him nod, and she said, “You send her a message that the peach cobbler is just to die for at Mary’s diner after her pre race run through tomorrow around noon and I’ll just happen to mosie on through and bump into her.”

Thranduil nodded and straightened up, “Thank you.”

In his turn however she asked, “This message, you wouldn’t happen to be passing it on through a text would you?” his head turned to find her smirking, “I was just wondering if you might have gotten the sweet thing’s number or if I might have to do that for you myself?”

Exhaling shortly he replied in his stroll to the door, “Legolas beat you to the punch,” making her squeal giddily and turn to begin plotting ways to arrange the new couple in her eyes she could aid in bringing about.

 *

But tell me, does she kiss

Like I used to kiss you?

Does it feel the same when she calls your name?

Somewhere deep inside

You must know I miss you

But what can I say? Rules must be obeyed

Humming to yourself you sat in your window bench seat propping up your foot staring up at the stars after having spent the better part of the evening going over the schedule for this week leading up to the big race you would be in sneakers for to keep your father calm on not damaging your ankle before the big day. Again your fingers smoothed across the cockatoo plushie on your lap your eldest brother Gummy Bear had crochet for you in a pink and grey shade matching your Lyla you lost two years prior still hurting you enough to know you weren’t ready to take up your family’s offer to help you find another. By now she’d have nuzzled on your shoulder after a signaling bout of fake kissing sounds she would make when she wanted to be closer to you.

Out of nowhere she would call your name sweetly whenever you were sad or in pain. Always finding candies in the house she would hide in your bag for pleasant surprises through your day between bits of shredded construction paper you’d given her after she’d see you smile in trying at origami when she was little, all you now kept in a glass box on your desk. You now had a path you had chosen and the fear you had assumed not to be an issue seemed worse as to how you would take the first official step on it.

But again you glanced at your phone reading the message from Thranduil,

‘If you’re in the mood for it tomorrow at noon you should give the peach cobbler a try at Mary’s diner.’

To yourself you mumbled, “What is that supposed to mean? Hey the cobbler is good? Or is it a vague offer for a date?” Again you sighed and set the phone down, “Why would he put a specific time though?”

…

The judges will decide (They decide)

The likes of me abide (We abide)

Spectators of the show (Of the show)

Always staying low (Staying low)

The game is on again (On again)

A lover or a friend (Or a friend)

A big thing or a small (Big or small)

The winner takes it all (Takes it all)

 Finally the big day came and after your run in at Mary’s you got your answer as Dis showed up and went from asking about your health before mentioning her emptying spot bringing about a need for a trainee signaling your timid mention of your license. It wasn’t a date but it did lead to a tour of the shop and an appointment for your first day on the job after the races were through.

Racers and horses flooded the town but with it exploded the news that your new friend was going to be giving your idea a chance. There was no terms against it, a fact you reminded your father if, and the giddiness and giggles from you had him smirking in your bounce away seeing your interest in the vet had not waned over the years and had now been given a chance to blossom.

 *

I don't wanna talk

If it makes you feel sad

And I understand, you've come to shake my hand

I apologise

If it makes you feel bad

Seeing me so tense, no self-confidence

 Strutting straight to his assigned pen Tuo passed the curious horses between sneering riders, owners and onlookers and Thranduil joined his family to finalize the details and brush him down readying the saddle he rarely let Thranduil put on him after decades of considering doing just this. Still being the lone Elk rider in the bunch and the topic of all this gossip made his stomach clench, at least until he heard your voice sound.

“Hello Handsome.”

Turning around sharply his brows shot up only to drop in a grin seeing you stroking Tuo’s snout he nuzzled closer to you. Slowly his eyes took in the halter top dress in mint matching your hair tight till your hips where it playfully spun around you in your habitual thinking twists on your feet. Around Tuo Thranduil stepped and greeted you, “Managed to sneak away, Miss Pear?”

With a giggle you held out an apple you asked, “I saw this and wondered if after the race Tuo can have it?”

Thranduil chuckled saying as Tuo took a bite out of the apple making you giggle, “He can’t resist apples. Should help give him a boost if he has a hope for more after.”

You nodded, “I’ll do my best to sneak some more.” Looking to Tuo you stroked his shout as he finished the apple, “You’re going to show them all, aren’t you handsome? Just how marvelous you are.”

Proudly he chortled in return and you glanced at Thranduil when he spoke, “You know, when I do win, I’ll be getting a ticket to the Champion’s Ball,” His hand patted Tuo’s side in inching closer pretending his heart wasn’t racing faster in doing so, “I know you’ve wanted to see what it’s like. We could go together, if you’re up for it?”

Your name was called and before you hurried away you grinned up at him, “I can’t wait.” Looking to Tuo again you flashed him a wink saying, “See you in the winner’s circle. I’ll keep your roses ready for you.” He chortled again as you stepped away leaving Thranduil grinning madly.

 But you see, the winner takes it all

The winner takes it all

 From the inspection of the starting gates led to Thranduil’s hands clenching on the reigns before the starting jolt in their opening. All at once from an even two strides Tuo shot ahead and his steady lead only grew until you and your fight to hold back your giddy giggles ended in Thranduil’s hop down to guide Tuo to the waiting ring of roses to be strung around his neck for the pictures to follow the interview you gave.

 So the winner takes it all

And the loser has to fall

Throw a dice cold as ice

Way down here someone dear

Takes it all has to fall

It seems plain why complain

The others all frowned in your choice winning. Gown chosen suiting his choice of tail bearing tux demanded for the occasion. Pictures were taken and into the Ball you had strode. An introductory speech was given and that was the last demanded of Thranduil leaving you and him in your seats. Not much was offered for dancing leaving you all mostly in your seats for small talk between a team of magicians hired for the night and leaning in closer to his side you whispered, “No wonder they don’t brag about the Ball.” Making him chortle and rub his face trying not to laugh any louder and draw attention to you both. Peering up at you he caught your smirk, “I’m in the mood for nachos, you?”

Smirking back he asked, “You ever bowled in a ball gown?” You shook your head with a giggle and his hand claimed yours to cradle, “Then My Lady, you have not lived. Allow me to right this egregious error.” Stealing a peck on your knuckles on the hand he held in your sneaking out.

So off you went and drawing the eye of those in town passing by the tiny bowling alley seemed to gather quite a crowd seeing you both giggle your ways back to giddiness between snacks and games and trips to the attached arcade for tickets and prizes. Nerves seemed to vanish as nudged into the photo booth by a bargain claiming Dam onto his lap you stumbled and in a flash a nose scrunching kiss was captured and soon followed by a more sensible one backed by a wall of roses.

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac​

X Thranduil - @evyiione​, @sweetlytenacious25​, @tigereyesf​, @pastelhexmaniac

[londonlovinglinguist]

Metro: Last Light Review

I just finished Metro: Last Light and ohhhhh my god the feelings! I was a good little Ranger and managed to get the “Redemption” ending. Which left me in tears. So, here are my thoughts:

The Dark Ones Oh, boy. The little Dark One (I named him “Alyosha”) was a lovely and actually helpful companion for some really rushed and therefore not so enjoyable parts of the game. I loved his naivety and wonder, which reminded me a bit of Artyom in the beginning of Metro 2033. Idealistic, naive and curious about the world around him. I also found the Dark Ones to be not that creepy in the first game and really disliked the fact that the canon ending for Metro 2033 was the one were Artyom nuked them. 

Pavel Morozov Boy, this is a hard one. I get that Pavel was designed to be likable, to make the betrayal really hurtful for the player (and therefore Artyom) but I did not expect it to work that well. Mind you, I knew he was going to betray me before I played the game (Thanks, tumblr). But it hurt. God, I loved him as a companion. With his smirk, stupid jokes, charm and (probably, probably not so) fake admiration for Artyom. His teasing on the Red Square broke my heart. I was feeling so used and angry but at the same time I wanted him back. So, well done writing this character in particular. No one but Pavel will ever have me stuck in continuous loop of “I love you but I hate you.”

Anna Now, moving on to something that was done badly: Anna (or, to be more specific: her character). First of all, I’m glad that in Metro: Exodus Anna seems to be a lovable, totally badass character who loves Artyom very much. But, during Last Light, I developed quite a strong dislike for her. The whole “rabbit” nickname was ridiculous and downright annoying. It destroyed the serious topic of killing the little Dark One. Every time she showed up I had the strong urge to roll my eyes. Her views on the Dark Ones and almost everything else were dismissive and arrogant. She reminded me of her father a lot (so, well done), whom I do not really like, either. Also, we really do not need to talk about that very weird, forced and extremely misplaced sex scene, right?! I mean, that was just cringy. 

Ulman Oh, my one true Metro love. I want to know who made the decision to kill this angel off, so I can kick his/her butt! But seriously, why? Loved the beginning with him, which placed him in the role of the companion again (at least a bit). And that was that. Revolutionary idea: Let him be the kidnapped one Artyom has to save. Place him in the swamp church and let him get injured by the blast. Artyom witnesses one of his closest friends being dragged away by asshat Lesnitsky (do not fight me on this, Ulman and Artyom are totally best friends!). Of course one of the highest-ranking rangers would be leverage against Miller. No need to drag Anna into this. Artyom saves Ulman, we are spared of the weird sex scene (or get a cuddle scene for Artyom and Ulman, because they both need someone to hold them) and this extra quality time with our favorite ranger would make his death much more tragic, since the bond between the player and Ulman would have been stronger. Also, can we talk about how his death is mentioned? In the credits?! Definitely not enough. One of the main characters of the first game and we do not even witness him dying? Big no no! So, if you want to kill a character like this off, at least give the player a proper death scene. 

Level design and enemies My thoughts while playing Last Light can be summarized like this: F*ck, f*ck, f*ck! I felt constantly underpowered, overwhelmed and scared. “Sundown” and “Nightfall” were stupidly frustrating because the level design was confusing but then again, it got better after I played it second time.  The second part of the game felt very rushed in general which greatly overwhelmed me but then again, story-wise this fast pace makes sense. “Red Square” annoyed me  because it is close to impossible to play non-lethal here (I found a video for this but was way too impatient, so I just killed them all, apart from Pavel). When it comes to the enemies, I am torn. Some of the enemies I liked (the shrimp, for example). The demons were downright annoying and more than once successfully attacked me when I was inside or under something. The mutant bear was overkill and unnecessary. The whole level was creepy and tense enough. Big Mamma was okay. 

Plot I actually liked it. A lot. Replace Anna with Ulman during the kidnapping and I would call this a 10/10. With Anna it is a 9/10. God, I’m glad she seems to be an amazing character in Exodus. The Reds as the main enemy were cool and interesting enough, Korbut was a disgusting and therefore good villain. Interestingly enough I pitied Moskvin in the end, seeing him talking to a picture of his brother. 

This f*cked me up Oktyabrskaya station. I mean, it was just terrible. Not in the sense of “bad” but sincerely upsetting. The sheer mass of corpses, the fire, the smoke. This really got me. I felt so disgusted and angry and helpless. Just think about it: They brought the virus there, which resulted in people dying a painful and messy death and then (because the virus was not fast enough), they just killed the survivors and infected off. Burned them alive. 

Memorable moments (things that made me laugh, cry or shudder)

Khan lecturing Ulman about the dangers of smoking (Khans amused tone)

Speech of the Fuhrer after escaping the Reich prison (made me sick)

The whole airplane sequence 

Pavel standing next to a tied up Artyom and not even looking in his direction while taking orders (f*ck you, Pavel)

The fisherman who gets Artyom to Venice (Lovely guy)

Teddybear

Confronting Pavel in Venice (Jesus, the tension)

Level design in the catacombs (so very eerie)

Little Dark One as a kid while talking to Miller in Polis (I think he is actually waving at the surrounding rangers)

Being dragged to safety by Ulman during the firefight (I just love this guy)

[tealchameleon]

Prince of Egypt rant

I don’t outwardly admit it because it may seem odd to some but my biggest dream in life is to make something beautiful. Whether it’s music, or art, or a movie or a show, I want to make something that can shake people to their core, make them laugh and cry, something they can relate to on a level they might not even really understand. And I want it to be beautiful in a way that someone could talk about it for hours, and pick out all the little pieces of it that make it the masterpiece it is, and feel so strongly about it that it’s like a personal connection.

My version of that is the Prince of Egypt, because I could talk about it’s animation, it’s plot, and its soundtrack forever. It’s so beautifully made, and I feel so deeply about it that I can’t explain it. I listen to the soundtrack for comfort almost, because to me it’s a personal bond I have with it. The songs always move me every time I listen to them, if not make me cry. I don’t even really believe in God, but there’s something about the hope in the movie that makes me feel encouraged.

When You Believe helps me through hard times, and helps me have hope in myself and my future. The duet is so gorgeous, and the lyrics in Hebrew are so lively that it makes me feel stronger almost, or more hopeful...? And after that, when the whole choir joins for the chorus, it’s so overwhelming, and strong, and everyone’s unified and together as a people, and it just resonates hope and perseverance and courage in the face of difficulty, I sob every time. Because “though hope is frail, it’s hard to kill.” And that last part, when they interject “now you will” into the chorus,,, it gets me every time. I may be over analyzing but to me that’s a statement of determination, like this is going to happen for us, it’s our time, and we’re moving forward from the terrible place we were in. I can really relate to the message of that song, and it’s honestly one of my main things I do in order to motivate myself.

And the scene with the burning bush makes me downright weep. The music gets so intense, and Moses is just floating weightless with light all around him and you can see it reflected in his eyes, it’s so impossibly beautiful and it makes me feel this emotion I can really only relate to religion, despite my being an atheist. He’s so close to God in that scene, and it’s breathtaking, kind of like being saved, or being told things will be okay. And of course him crying after the scene doesn’t help me not cry either. The music rises and recedes as this all takes place, and it really makes the seem magical. I listen to this part of the soundtrack just for that feeling it gives, despite the fact that’s it’s not really a song with lyrics.

And the feeling that’s poured into the soundtrack, even the “mundane” parts, it’s still ridiculously amazing. The recurring melodies at different parts of Moses’ life tie the events together. And they set the mood so so well. Like you know what’s going on by the music alone.

Deliver Us, and Yocheved’s lullaby, it’s so tragic and sorrowful, god damn it kills me. They’re begging for hope and an answer, any way out of the pain they endure, the whole song is really just a prayer. The lullaby is stuck in my head constantly.

And The Plagues. Holy shit, I’ve never heard a song that comes down as hard as that. It just resonates power, I mean it’s about God smiting Egypt with all His strength. And the conflict with Moses and Rameses is so heartbreaking, and Moses is losing everything he once had, it’s so emotional... and the choir singing out the plagues and “thus saith the lord” is so strong like it’s got some punch behind it...

Finally, Through Heaven’s Eyes is a favorite of mine. I listen to it when I feel downtrodden, and when I feel like I have nothing and I want more out of my life. That song really makes me think about how it’s better to see things through a different mindset than my own. Helps remind me that money isn’t everything and in the end life is about how good of a person you were, not your wealth or fame. Like “so how do you measure the worth of a man, in wealth or strength or size? In how much he gained, or how much he gave?” Like damn that’s a question that really makes you think... and it’s so poetic in its wording. There’s other deep lyrics too, e.g. “And that's why we share all we have with you, Though there's little to be found, When all you've got is nothing, There's a lot to go around” because yeah money isn’t everything, and it’s people who detach themselves from wealth that are the kindest and most giving, even though the rich have the most to give. Really hits me hard.

As for the animation, it’s stunning. The flowing hair, the background art, the water, the work they put into coordinating the music with the scene, there’s so much detail and effort that anyone who appreciates art at all can see that this movie took a lot and got a lot of hard work put into it. Moses’ speaking is so natural, and the characters’ movements are so fluid, it’s amazing to watch. And you can tell the pure feeling that went into it, like you can almost know the animator has been in love (Moses twirling Tzipporah, and kissing her in her sleep). And you can tell that they understand emotion, again by how Moses cries. When he sobs after the burning bush, and how he crumples on the palace wall after the tenth plague and seeing Rameses’ dead son. They really knew what they were doing when they animated those. And the parallels between Yocheved and Miriam, both looking up with tears in their eyes as they sing, holy shit... that’s heavy. And the blood in the Nile, how Moses can hear God, and it’s almost silent as he places the staff in the water and the blood starts flowing and everyone’s confused, until the soldiers realize what’s happening and they slosh blood everywhere. Damn powerful imagery there. Don’t even get me started with the burning bush scene oh god, it’s so BEAUTIFUL. You can almost feel Moses’ fear and trepidation as he first speaks with the bush, and how he cowers when he’s scolded. And he winces as he recalls his mistakes in Egypt. And the little tumbling rocks and light waves on the floor, and how God’s voice is emphasized on certain words with stronger light. And then, the best part, when Moses is lifted, and wrapped in light, he’s so awestruck and the light in his eyes and his flowing hair and clothes, it looks so divine and it really feels like encountering God myself. The feeling from that scene is so grand and wonderful, and like I said, I relate it to the feeling of being saved and being cared for. It’s the most religious thing I can relate to. It leaves me shaken, but in a good way. All that animation must’ve been hard but damn they did a beautiful beautiful job. And during when you believe, they coordinated the animation with the music perfectly. It starts in darkness before dawn, but gets more joyful as the song progresses. And you see families being happy and people working together. In particular I like how people slowly join the crowd, and it’s awesome how they even included Egyptian soldiers dropping their weapons and joining. Very cool of them to show that, I guess as a reminder that they weren’t all bad and could choose to turn to God. And before you know it the crowd is huge, and the lyrics become Hebrew, then it’s that big chorus... I love that. So pretty. And for the parting of the Red Sea, hot damn... Moses wades out into the water, with the army so close, and the column of fire in the back, and it’s so quiet it’s strange. And he looks up, listening to God, and he hears the words, and just like that he plunges the staff into the water, and the animation of his movement for that is so so so good. Like you can tell he’s putting his whole being into that miracle. And the water soars up, and it’s so majestic and miraculous, it’s breathtaking. The water just shoots out from his feet, and you get a real sense for what is at play in terms of God’s power. And the people with torches passing through, and the whale seen in the water, like who thinks of that?? They do because they wanted to emphasize how spectacular and even terrifying the experience was for the Hebrews. And when the water comes crashing down, that’s a masterpiece in itself. It sweeps the soldiers away and Rameses tries to stand up against it, only to be swept away himself (I dare say thats symbolism for him losing and yielding to God’s power). And when the waves close, the water still laps and vibrates, and you can see the mist on the surface being blown by the wind. So gorgeous...

honestly I could gush about this movies animation and music for days upon days. I’ll never get tired of it. It’s a beautiful masterpiece, a story of hope and overcoming obstacles. I want to make something like that, so people can see things in a similar way. That is my ultimate goal in life.

[zerochanges]

428 - Chunsoft’s Sound Novel Perfected

428: Shibuya Scramble is an unequivocal, truly Japanese game, and one that nobody ever thought would come out in English--and the doubters were sort of right. The title was a Japan exclusive for many years since its original Wii release in 2008 but after a decade of being out of reach for the English market this cryptically Japanese exclusive was somehow able to be cracked and come September of 2018 made the journey to North American and European markets on PC through Steam and both physically and digitally on the Sony PS4. Honestly I still can’t believe it and I own the darn game! The journey to getting this game out is surely an interesting one, as localization director David Kracker recounted on the Playstation blog that he had to fight hard to get the game pushed forward for a worldwide release outside of Japan, but ultimately was able to do so by showing that appeal for niche games such as these have been increasing steadily since its original Wii release. 

For many people 428: Shibuya Scramble will be their first experience with a Chunsoft sound novel--especially since the localized Kamaitachi no Yoru (Banshee’s Last Cry) is downright almost impossible to play now. Last blog post I discussed in detail what the heck a sound novel even is, and went through a brief history of the visual novel market in general covering where Chunsoft falls in and how much they contributed to the genre. So because of that I won’t go into too much heavy details on sound novels today, but the short and simple answer I gave in my previous entry is that a sound novel is two things. The first of which was a dated term that Chunsoft used regularly (mostly on the Super Famicom and Sega Saturn) and has since fallen out of use in favor of adopting visual novel. The second of which is the more complicated answer that sound novels are both the aforementioned term that was used by Chunsoft for their brand of visual novels and also a certain style of visual novels that would follow years later by other companies that were heavily inspired by the early works of Chunsoft often aping their presentation and narrative style, with 07Expansion’s Higurashi - When They Cry being one of the most popular examples. 

If all that sounds like a bit much, or is just all greek to you, don’t worry--all you have to really take away from my rambling is that the Chunsoft seal of quality with 428 really means something, especially to fans of visual novels. You see, 428: Shibuya Scramble is actually a spiritual successor of sorts to Chunsoft’s earlier Machi sound novel released in 1998 on the Sega Saturn and later Sony Playstation. Machi was a highly well regarded game for its time that was a big hit both critically and with gamers, but despite its constant praise still sold poorly. Over the years people started to discover the game through its solid word of mouth and old fans and new fans alike were always clamoring for a sequel. After many years of begging Chunsoft finally delivered just that, and this is where 428: Shibuya Scramble comes in. By no means a direct sequel (so don’t worry you definitely DO NOT need to play Machi to understand the story) 428 is set in the same city of Machi (aka both take place in the same fictional version of Shibuya), and super fans will be able to spot some references and cameos from Machi sneaking in. 

428: Shibuya Scramble is essentially a dream game to many hardcore fans in Japan that waited anxiously for a return to form from Chunsoft. When it came out the game even famously got a perfect score of 40 in the well known Famitsu gaming magazine--and this was back when you could still count perfect scores they gave out on your fingers, only 8 games prior made that list; nowadays the magazine is known for being far more forgiving with its reviews. So basically, what I am getting at is this is yet another game that was pretty huge back in Japan but sorely skipped over worldwide. 

You may be thinking to yourself then, that’s all well and good, but what about the game itself? Well let me get into that. 428: Shibuya Scramble is as its name implies, a game about Shibuya, while you do take control of characters in the game, at large the characters themselves all feel like a part of the city. Shibuya is a living, breathing entity in 428, and you really get to explore the entire city from multiple perspectives in this one long, crazy day. Shibuya’s story is your story. There are multiple characters you get to play as and each one has their own unique, individual story to tell, but each story is interwoven into the others and they begin to overlap in creative and fun ways. This is where a large part of the game play comes from; finding out how decisions you made with one character affects the fate of another character. 

Say for example if you are being chased in one character’s story and decide to run into a busy city street to escape your pursuers thus causing a traffic accident, in another story the character you are playing now is stuck in said traffic accident and cannot progress their story leading to a bad end. Everything you decide to do with one character not only affects that character’s fate but may even affect the entire city’s at large and change the outcome for every other character you play as too. Finding out how to best affect the story by jumping around the multiple characters and getting everything to play out just right is a lot of fun and no surprise was also a major feature in Machi prior. 

There are a bevy of characters to interact with in Shibuya but the multiple residents in this major Japanese metropolis you take direct control of are Shinya Kano, a rookie detective trying to make his way in the force and crack a kidnapping case, Achi Endo, an ex-gang leader with a heart of gold trying to make Shibuya a better place, Minoru Minorikawa, an investigative journalist on a mission to save a life, Kenji Osawa, a brooding genius that just wants to be left alone but is trapped inside a corporate scandal that goes beyond anyone’s imagination, and Tama, a poor soul trapped in a big furry cat mascot costume that just wants to be free from the hell that is a terrible part time job. Each character has their own unique flavor they bring to the table and their own individual plots range from comedic to serious, romantic to frightening, and everything else in-between. Kano’s scenario is a pretty straightforward crime drama, while Osawa’s plays like a physiological thriller where you don’t know who to trust, meanwhile Tama and Minorikawa’s scenarios will have you on the floor laughing at the insane hijinks they manage to get into somehow, and Achi is kicking ass beating up thugs and saving a lost girl. 

428 manages to combine all these different kinds of smaller stories into one large story seamlessly and it’s an incredible experience jumping between all these fun characters and seeing how they eventually interact with each other as the plot progresses. It’s hard for me to even pick a favorite character in the game as all of them are so well written, and so different from one each other. If I had to pick though, I would say Osawa is probably the protagonist I relate to the most and a lot of his big story moments left me teary eyed and really moved on a truly genuine personal level (I don’t think I’m a genius like him though). 

I can praise 428 to the high heavens, and really a large part of me writing about it today is to do just that, but there is an elephant in the room I probably should address at some point. Something truly horrendous, something that prevents the game from ever being a true masterpiece, something that scares everyone away, the horror of … real life actors! Yeah, as I am sure it’s obvious by this point 428 uses real life actors and was actually filmed on location in the city of Shibuya. A lot of people are put off by this and honestly that kind of bums me out that so many are so unwilling to even try different things. 

To go off on a bit of a tangent, my own personal opinion is that I freaking love the way 428 looks. I’m someone that quite enjoys campy FMV video games; stuff like Night Trap or any Tex Murphy adventure game is solidly right up my alley. I also enjoy unique mixtures of real life and animation, so I love rotoscoping a whole lot--I’m always ecstatic when I find a cool movie or animated series that is rotoscoped, and that’s a large draw to me for games that use it such as Hotel Dusk. So no, I really think 428 is a beautiful game visually that was made by real pros who had to use guerrilla film making in order to bring their vision to life because of laws that prevent filming on location in Shibuya. What the team was able to do here, while also hiding it from “the man” is incredible work! 

Contextly Chunsoft’s sound novels opted to not use the now established format that predominantly is how visual novel look. Originally with Otogirisō this was because visual novels were still in their infancy and the now ubiquitous presentation where sprites are shown in front of background art had not yet taken off. Nobody really knew what visual novels at the time should look like. Otogirisō is actually commonly attributed as one of the earliest examples where a visual novel had background art to begin with and wasn't just mostly text or sprites presented over a black void. Chunsoft kept their games pretty consistent visually from that point, and characters were often not seen on screen, usually just presented through the use of silhouette if needed. This really helped the “novel” aspect of their visual novels, since you had to imagine the characters’ appearances mostly through the narrative descriptions about them just like in literature. 

Over time this changed with the advent of CD hardware which meant the use of still image photography and Full-Motion-Video could really take off, and Machi ran with this new hardware looking much like how 428 does. You can say these games really have a more broad appeal to them too as they are not just “anime” games but games anyone can enjoy just like a good book. This while true in Japan does get a bit tricky for a localized title as a majority of the actors are Japanese which is off putting to a general public not used to watching Japanese cinema or TV dramas. For better or worse 428 is an unequivocal Japanese game, but I really implore anyone who is even the tiniest bit interested to try it out for themselves (especially since there is a free demo) and stay open minded about the game, because if you do, you will find one of the best written, and best localized games in a generation.

428: Shibuya Scramble's predecessor; Machi on the Sega Saturn

428 didn't get a very fair shot when it came out in the English market. The month of September was jam packed with both Triple-A titles such as Marvel’s Spider-man and niche titles that could not be missed such as Dragon Quest XI: Echoes of an Elusive Age. The release date really was setting the game up to go against some huge competitors and with its enigmatic overly Japanese sensibilities 428 lacked much of the charisma to fight them. I followed the localization process very closely and this was a game I dreamt I could play for many years, but even I had to pass up grabbing the game on its release date and waited about a month or so until I managed to pick up my own copy as I had poured all my attention into Dragon Quest XI at that time which as bad as I feel for 428 I still don’t regret. By the time I wrote my annual favorite games of the year list I had to exempt 428 from it even, only writing a brief honorable mention as I knew I would love it but hadn't actually gotten to play it yet. The end of the year was far too packed with excellent titles vying for my and everyone else’s attention and what a shame, as 428 is now easily neck-and-neck with my then favorite game of the year Dragon Quest XI.

The truth is it will be very unlikely we will ever see a game like 428: Shibuya Scramble come out in English again. This was a very unlikely localization to happen in the first place, and a very risky one, but it sadly was not a runaway success. Anyone interested in the history of visual novels, sound novels, or seeing one of Chunsoft’s greatest titles definitely shouldn't pass this game up though. And anyone willing, I really recommend 428: Shibuya Scramble hard. If you love good storytelling in gaming, there isn't any better than what’s here. The story in 428 is so heart felt, and uplifting that I found myself crying a lot during my playthrough. I laughed, I cried, I found tons of inspiration for my own writing, 428 truly is a game that changes you. I think those are far too rare nowadays. This is a game that should be in any niche gamer’s PS4 or Steam collection. 

[paulisweeabootrash]

First Impression: Soni-Ani: Super Sonico the Animation

This is generally a SFW blog, and especially will continue to be one thanks to certain Tumblr policy changes, but this time a couple of the links are not (though still certainly not explicit), so be advised.

Without further ado, it's time again for Paul Is Weeaboo Trash!

Today's episode: Soni-Ani: Super Sonico the Animation (2014)

Episodes watched: 4

What happens when you take a trip to a ridiculously geeky store, encounter an aggressively-ganguro and barely-dressed figurine (that your wife immediately despises), and you think to yourself "what the hell is this?"  You end up finding, and somewhat regretting, Super Sonico.

This is an odd show right off the bat just in terms of how it came to be.  The main character originated as the mascot of a music festival of the same name, and she just seems to have taken off in popularity in Japan, spawning a series of media including video games, manga, and the anime that is today's topic.

Super Sonico (Yes, her name is すーぱーそに子.  Family name "Suupaa", given name "Soniko".) is a bright but anxious college student who works a seemingly-impossible set of part-time jobs as a model, waitress, and guitarist for the band First Astronomical Velocity (apparently "escape velocity" is a better translation?).  The first episode serves just as an introduction to the main characters with very little actual content or development.  We see Sonico struggle to get up and go to class in the morning, prodded awake by her cats and repeatedly coming back to her apartment for things, we see her late but well-prepared for class, we see her go to work.  The show threatens to get downright sleazy with the scene showing her modeling for a magazine, but backs off at the last second as we're "introduced" to Sonico's manager, Kitamura, who shows up unprompted in an oni mask straight out of Japanese theater to object to an unapproved costume change from a bikini to something presumably even skimpier that we never actually see.  After the shoot, she goes to her second job waiting on customers at her grandmother's bar, which really doesn't seem to establish much of anything plot-wise, before we finally meet her band, which gathers at a rented studio to rehearse their new song, which bassist Suzu has evidently already recorded her own demo of.

That first episode amounts to an extended setup scene, and made me expect that maybe this would be another clumsy attempt at a cute slice-of-life show.  However, the show does quickly gain self-contained structured plots.  In episode 2 we get a better introduction to First Astronomical Velocity as they continue to rehearse for their upcoming concert.  Just like she was at school, Sonico is anxious, enthusiastic, and serious about making good music.  Suzu, the bassist, is overenthusiastic about the stage show side, seems to be in charge of costumes, and clearly either has a crush on Sonico or is a big fan of embarrassing her.  Maybe both?  Fuuri, the drummer, is shown at one point being the voice of reason trying to get Suzu to understand Sonico's feelings, but her personality is really mostly dominated by her being very quiet and eating a lot.  The rest of the episode unfolds in a very sitcom kind of way: Sonico juggles too many responsibilities and skips a last-minute rehearsal before the band is performing to take another modeling gig.  When she gets to the concert venue, however, the rest of the band is delayed and Sonico has to try to stall by performing solo in the costume she previously refused to wear before being saved by her bandmates at the last minute.

The third episode is dominated by another modeling gig, and with it more predictable excuses for fanservice, and although we're getting more screen time with characters who aren't Sonico, they still have very little in terms of personality, which is the show's biggest.  We see more of Kitamura, for example, in part of episode 2 and most of 3, but mainly to continue to show that he is protective of Sonico and uncomfortable with the outfits magazines want her in.  And that he never takes off that mask.  The most interesting and noteworthy event in the episode, assuming you're not just here to leer at Sonico, is that it draws a little bit of a line for itself, as the biggest conflict is Kitamura drunkenly booking Sonico for a TV appearance without either of them knowing the full details, which ends up putting Sonico in a deeply uncomfortable situation that Kitamura interrupts, sword in hand.

Now, I don’t want to be the kind of person who criticizes a show for not being a different show, but at this point, I was just wishing they’d made the show more about the band itself because the modeling parts just drag it down.  It didn’t look like it was going to improve, and I wanted to give up, but based on the plot synopses for the other episodes, I gave it one more try in hopes it would get more interesting and less gratuitous.  I was immediately rewarded by a much, much better episode 4, which consists mostly of an extended flashback telling the story of how Sonico met Toma, a middle school friend with whom she is no longer in touch, from whom she got her guitar and learned to play it.  In a rare moment of actual thoughtful writing, it becomes quite believable that Sonico was extremely shy and, through maturity and practice and the acceptance of friends, became the clearly anxious but overall more confident person we saw in the previous episodes.  It’s like we’re seeing the same underlying conscientiousness manifest in different ways.  The resolution of the episode is sweet, and I was thinking “maybe that was an anomaly and the rest of this show is going to be good!”  After all, it’s quite possible for a show to be fanservicey and also clever or touching.  But then the preview of episode 5 started, and it looks like it’ll be another pretext for mindless creepy fanservice (and Kitamura saving the day), so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.  Maybe the show alternates bad and good (or, more charitably, model-centric and band-centric) episodes? Overall, I just don't think I care enough to continue the series.  It's not so bad I’m going to be stuck complaining about it, but it is wildly variable and not good enough overall for me to sit through the “ugh, again?” to get to the “oh, that’s pretty cool”.  I’d call the first and third episodes actively bad, the second okay, and the fourth one good.  Sonico is by far the most interesting and fleshed-out character, and that’s just not enough to make me actually get into it. Oh, and the punchline of the whole thing is: Super Pochaco, who that preposterous figurine is of, is just a background character in this show, first appearing in episode 4 (someone on TVTropes claims she shows up in the background in episode 3, but I didn't see her at all).  I wasn't watching the show for her, but I did hope to find out what the deal is with that figurine.  Meh.  This is not the kind of trash your trashy host wants to dig any further through.

I might buy the music, though.

-----

Revised W/A/S Scores: 6 / 7 / 5±2

Weeb: Plenty of things would be clearer or enhanced by general background knowledge of Japan, but some defy explanation to the moderately-informed weeb — someone with no prior knowledge of traditional depictions of oni will look at Sonico's manager's mask and go "lol wut?", and even after consulting the Almighty Wikipedia, I still have no idea why that particular mask (which apparently represents a obsessive or jealous aristocratic woman?) was chosen.  Also, a lot of on-screen Japanese text is left untranslated, so I wonder if there are sight gags I'm constantly missing.

Ass: Very fanservicey, without ever quite making it to nudity, but also surprisingly upfront and kind of creepy about it, like the show is just a pretext for watching Sonico’s gravure photoshoots.  Like, I was even expecting this show to be basically just pandering for its presumed otaku audience, but it’s not even particularly good pandering.  Outside of the photoshoots, the show is still full of individual shots that draw attention to the female characters' bodies, especially Sonico's breasts and thigh-high socks.

Shit (writing): Continuing that general thought, the fanservice level just ends up dragging and distracting and I think it should count as a point against the writing quality.  As mentioned above in the main review, the writing is wildly variable from episode to episode.  What little characterization there has been for the supporting cast has at least made Fuuri and Suzu entertaining and likeable, and the show certainly doesn’t go as far as that egregious Blend-S problem of not knowing where its own scenes or episodes should end.  Not being terrible, however, is not the same as being good.

Shit (other): This show really is pretty, and most of the music (which there's a lot of, since each episode has its own unique ending themes, all performed by First Astronomical Velocity) is enjoyable.  Honestly, it's just making me more interested in buying the actual albums than getting more into Sonico's various visual media.

Content Warning: Although it's in the context of Sonico attempting to act, and the scene overall ends up funny, and sets up an enjoyable post-credits scene, episode 3 contains a scene of clearly non-consensual groping, and viewers might be too uncomfortable with that.

-----

Stray Observations:

- Huh.  I was only dimly aware of "bullet screens", the practice of showing viewer comments scrolling across videos, as seen at the beginning of episode 2, and thought it was a very recent and distinctly Chinese phenomenon, but it apparently originated in Japan over a decade ago.

- It really shouldn't feel like such a distinct relief for a piece of otaku-centric media to finally sexualize someone who is unquestionably an adult, and who is choosing to be sexualized as part of a job she enjoys...

[hati-skoll]

Madam Malkin’s Manual for (dis)Robing Wizarding Royalty

@promptis-fanweek Promptis SFW Fanweek Day 8: Free Day

This is kinda overdue, but I’ve had this scene stuck in my head for some time and I thought I might as well put this up for the fanweek.

Rating: T

Warning: Brief mentions of fat shaming

[AO3]

When Prompto finds out that he's landed a job at Madam Malkin's for the summer holidays, he thanks his lucky stars, which are finally shining on him after staying stubbornly indistinct for the first twelve years of his life. Well, he also thanks Lunafreya, who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who somehow got Prompto's name through the door. Look, he's not above a little nepotism if it's going to get him robes that actually fit for the next school term. He needs those robes.

His current ones are two sizes too small, maybe three. And yeah, he knows he's a 'growing boy', but he also knows he's 'growing' into his robes all wrong. A couple of guys in his transfiguration class have taken to calling him Pudgy Promp, and that's one of the nicer names they've come up with.

Unfortunately, his parents are strictly middle-class in muggle Nifleheim and wizarding currency has been appreciating against the Nifleheimian gil for the past couple of years. His family's finances are stretched thin just covering his textbooks. Of course, he qualifies for Hogwarts' Muggleborn Bursary for Wizarding Essentials, but that only affords him the luxury of shopping at Second-Hand Robes, and he's learnt quickly enough that wizards his size aren't in the habit of donating out their old uniforms.

Which leads him… here. Summer apprenticing at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. And the best part of it? Staff discounts.

"Prompto dear," Madam Malkin calls and Prompto quickly snaps to attention, "Could you fetch that latest shipment of demiguise pelts from the back? Lord Abbot just put in a new order for invisibility cloaks and they need to be completed by next week."

"Got it, Madam Malkin," Prompto answers while ducking into the store room.

He locates the pelts after several minutes of blind fumbling. This will be a lot easier if he could summon them with an accio, but Madam Malkin's declared it best not to perform any spells on untreated material of magical properties prior to proper charming.

That's not to say, Prompto doesn't get to practise any magic at all. Because he does. He's done a lot of levitating and vanishing over the past month and a half in Madam Malkin's service — which is far more magic than whatever he's allowed to do at home, in muggle Nifleheim. The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery would have him slapped with a warning letter in a hot second, if he so much as tried a paltry wingardium leviosa in his bedroom.

He carefully hefts the pelts up to Madam Malkin's work table. They’re surprisingly heavy, and he's beginning to feel beads of sweat gather on his forehead and pits while trudging up the stairs. Well, he could always use the extra exercise. Just got to… think positive, you know. He's been working on his physique ever since they turned him away at the Hufflepuff Quidditch try-outs. But it's a slow, arduous process.

Okay, there. Prompto breathes out a sigh of relief, depositing the pelts where Madam Malkin wants them. He's about to make his way back to the receiving area, because the morning crowd's trickling in and they'll be all hands on deck soon enough, when the doorbell chimes. And he would have called out the customarily enthusiastic 'welcome to Madam Malkin's!', but it balloons in his mouth and effectively chokes him so he's a wheezing mess as Hogwarts' resident Lucian aristocrats come traipsing into his previously peaceful but eye-candy-less summer vacation.

The first person through the door is a tall, lanky fifth-year Slytherin — Ignis Scientia, who's been a shoo-in for Head Boy ever since his first day at Hogwarts, as the rumours go. According to those very same rumours, he's taken and aced every subject offered including a couple of NEWT-level classes, after going through some iffy advance placement thing that the professors put together specifically to cater to his genius and Lucian monarchical administrative duties — which is insane, if not impossible. The house elves adore him because he pops by the kitchens to bake every now and then. And he’s deadly in Quidditch, even though he's never had the time to play on the house team.

He's immediately followed by Gladiolus Amicitia, Gryffindor Quidditch captain, and the best keeper Hogwarts has seen in decades. He's been scouted by the Chudley Canons, Stonewall Stormers and Toyohashi Tengu. They even wrote a feature on him in Seeker Weekly! He's turned down all the offers, of course, which everyone thinks is a downright shame, not that anyone'll ever dare say that to his face, because he's famously proud of his future career in the Lucian military and notoriously loyal to…

Noctis Lucis Caelum, Lucian Prince, Gryffindor's star student and the final member of the trio who’s walking into the shop, stealing the limelight and many a fair maiden's heart with his (mysteriously!) hooded gaze and (artfully!) tousled hair. Prompto quietly whimpers when the target of his gigantic schoolboy crush huffs irritably and flicks his bangs out of his eyes, utterly destroying whatever hope of coherency Prompto’s been holding onto. They're in the same year, Noctis and him, but Prompto's never shared a class with the prince before. He doesn't think they've even been in the same room, save for all the seasonal feasts held in the great hall, where Noctis sits all the way up front with his Shield at the Gryffindor table, and Prompto sits all the way at the back with the rest of his Hufflepuff cohorts.

"Good afternoon. We're here to purchase a set of Gryffindor robes," Ignis says, by way of greeting.

"Good afternoon dears. New robes for Mr Amicitia?" Madam Malkin ambles over, tittering, "Or are they for His Highness?"

Noctis shuffles forward a little and says, "They're for me."

"Why, you must have grown two inches since the last I saw you, Your Highness."

"And a half," Noctis says, quite proudly.

"Still a little squirt, though," Gladiolus adds.

Noctis shoves at him, but Gladiolus doesn't budge. "Shut up, I only look small because you're so bloody big."

"Now, boys, there'll be no roughhousing in my shop," Madam Malkin warns, although she doesn't put much steel to her voice, because you just… don't tell the Prince of Lucis off — not unless you're the King of Lucis or Ignis Scientia, "And we've got the lot over there. We'll have you fitted up in a jiffy, just head right on, dears."

Ignis nods. "I hope you won't mind if we cast a couple of disillusionment charms while we're occupying the room."

"Oh, go right ahead. You really don't have to ask every time you're here," Madam Malkin says, "We can't have His Highness' robing habits plastered all over tomorrow's Prophet, can we?"

"No, we cannot," Ignis says, "Your kind consideration is appreciated, as always."

Then the trio disappears into the fitting room, with Gladiolus and Ignis none too subtly shielding their prince bodily and Prompto accordingly attempts to disappear behind the bannister. Alas, Madam Malkin spots him not making himself useful and waves him over. "Could you help His Highness with his fitting, dear? I know you haven't had much experience with that, but Prince Noctis is an agreeable sort. You won't be having any trouble with him."

"But—"

"You're in the same year at Hogwarts, aren't you," Madam Malkin pauses, "I hope you boys aren't at loggerheads because of that house rivalry nonsense."

"No, no. We're­— We're cool. His Highness is… cool."

Madam Malkin considers him meaningfully. "Is that so? Well, then, off you go, dear. It's not nice to keep a customer waiting."

Which is how Prompto finds himself knocking on the fitting room door, sweating buckets and trying to recall Madam Malkin's Manual for Robing Witches and Wizards — of which he's read a good dozen times, but is completely escaping him in his state of utter panic.

The door opens.

It's fortunately Ignis at the doorway, whom Prompto's marginally less terrified of because he always carries with him this air of formality that lends every situation some degree of verisimilitude.

"I'm… here to help with the fitting?" Prompto's not sure why he's making that a question, but. He's not sure how he's here in the first place.

Oh right. New robes. Summer job. Madam Malkin's. Robbing— Robing Prince Noctis. That makes sense. Sort of. Ugh, does it? He wonders if he can surreptitiously pinch himself without anyone noticing. Seriously, how is this his life?

Ignis smiles, a fraction above polite, green eyes glinting as he says, "Of course, thank you for your promptness."

Prompto dips his head as he slips into the room, which is decently spacious and surrounded by neatly ordered shelves of fabric. The prince has already gotten up on a footstool while waiting for him, looking terribly bored but devastatingly gorgeous nonetheless. At the opposite wall, Gladiolus' standing at attention, looking intimidatingly large and largely intimidating, but he catches Prompto's gaze — brown eyes just as piercing as Ignis' green — and offers up a friendly enough grin. Prompto relaxes by a tiny, tiny bit, before he remembers belatedly—

Rule Number One: Don't make eye contact.

With… the customer, right? Which means the prince. Ignis and Gladiolus don't count, do there? Prompto frowns, trying to call up—

Rule Number Two: Don't… Don't— Okay, so he can't actually remember what rule number two is, but he thinks it's possibly, 'Don't slip and fall and coincidentally pull the prince's pants down'. Because that sounds like something that should be in the manual. Definitively.

Like he wouldn't want to be that guy, you know. Wouldn't want to be hanged, drawn or avada kedavra-ed, whatever it is they do in Lucis, for unintended assault on important personages. Then, he's losing his balance, arms wind-milling, outstretched hands desperately grabbing onto something for purchase and suddenly, he's staring at the prince's bare, perfectly shaped knees, before glancing up to see a pair of dark blue eyes startled wide.

Oh, what do you know, two rules broken in one fell swoop.

He doesn't know how he manages to get his vocal chords working but he somehow stutters out, "Oh. My gods. I'm so sorry. Itwasanaccident. Pleasedon'texecuteme."

The prince gapes at him. A second passes, and then two. Then Noctis' cheeks are flaming as he yanks his trousers up, out of Prompto's grasp, and.

Prompto half-expects Gladiolus to haul him by the collar, toss him out on his ass and demand he duel for the prince's honour — not that the prince's bodyguard has a reputation for being violent, in fact, he seems like an all-round swell guy, but. There's got to be royal protocol for this, hasn't there? Some official statute in some official penal code about the appropriate course of action when the prince's modesty has been outraged?

Whatever it is, it's probably not 'laugh uproariously while the prince chucks something at your head'. But that's the course of action Gladiolus decides to take.

"Heavens, Noct. Is that not the pair of briefs I'd laid out yesterday? What happened to the freshly laundered ones I'd prepared this morning?"

"Specs," the prince groans, long-suffering, "I don't like that pair."

"They're perfectly serviceable. But if you find them so objectionable, you had only needed to inform me."

"Next topic," Noctis says, making a face. And Prompto's just recovered from the shock of not being executed, or sent to the gallows, or expelled from school, only to be faced with the awful realisation that he now has to live with the knowledge of Ignis Scientia laundering the prince's underpants.

Ignis sighs, wordlessly summoning something — small and… round-ish? — to his hand. "It seems the button's come off your trousers. We'll have to make do with a Sticking Charm for now, but I'll have it fixed when we're home. I've a good mind to take it up with your tailor, in any case, such shoddy handiwork is inexcusable — what if that had happened in front of the press?"

"I'll— I'll pay you back," Prompto blurts out, and wishes he's kept his mouth shut immediately after, because in what universe would he be able to afford replacing the prince's pants? All three other occupants in the room turn their attention to him and he thinks this will be a great time to wordlessly cast a disillusionment charm on himself — if he actually knew how.

"Nah, it's fine," the prince finally shrugs, "It was an accident."

Prompto briefly considers tattooing that onto his arm, as a memento of his first and possibly only conversation with the Prince of Lucis. But Noctis apparently hasn't gotten the memo that princes don't just go about interacting with robing apprentices, because he continues, "You're Prompto, right? You're friends with Luna."

Lu… na? Prompto frowns. "Lunafreya?"

"Yeah," Noctis shrugs, "She pointed you out when we were watching the Hufflepuff Quidditch try-outs. You play seeker?"

Okay, so Prompto knows that Lunafreya's probably a member of some high-standing wizarding family — just from the way she carries herself, you know. She's always so… poised. But he's never known that she was that high up the aristocracy rungs. He really ought to brush up on his wizarding politics. God, and she's had to witness his pathetic crush on Noctis for the past three years. He thinks back on all the times she's tried to get him to talk to the prince and colours.

Prompto realises a beat slow that the prince is waiting for some form of reply. "Um. Yeah. That was probably me."

Noctis grins and Prompto swears he sees flowers blooming in the background. "I play seeker too. Just made it onto the team last term. Guess we'll be seeing each other on the pitch next tourney."

"Ah," Prompto busies himself with the draping of the robes on Noctis' shoulders, studiously adjusting the hem while trying to figure out a proper response. "I… didn't make it. Onto the team?"

"Oh," Noctis says, and there's a length of awkward silence, before he continues in a voice that's both genuinely apologetic and flatteringly confused, "But you flew really well at the try-outs."

"They, um, said I wasn't… aerodynamic enough?"

There's another length of silence. And Prompto thinks that will be the end of their conversation, because he's honestly embarrassed himself enough in front of his crush. But Noctis evidently still hasn't received the memo, because he eventually says, "That's bullshit."

"Wha— Huh?"

"That's bullshit," Noctis repeats, "Doesn't matter how… aerodynamic you are, as long as you're quick on your broom and you've a good eye for the snitch. You were the strongest contender they had for seeker."

Prompto won't deny his heart lifted at Noctis' so vehement vote of confidence, it's kind of… nice to be validated, by the prince no less. "Yeah, um. I'm trying out again next term, anyway. And I've been working out. So I'll be more aerodynamic come next try-outs." Hopefully.

"It's still bullshit. Gladio tell him."

Gladiolus scratches his head. "It shouldn't matter as long as you're a good flier… theoretically. But, yeah, some captains prefer smaller seekers on the team, because they make more difficult targets for bludgers and opposing beaters and seekers."

"I can't believe you!"

"I get it," Prompto says quickly, before hexes are fired, "We all want what's best for our teams. It's cool."

Noctis scowls as his Shield bumps their shoulders together.

And Ignis gives a discreet little cough, effectively quelling the squabble with a stern look. "Alright, I'm sorry to have to cut this conversation short, but we do have other errands to run. It's been very nice meeting you, Prompto. Thank you for helping Noctis with his fitting."

"Um. No problem?" Prompto squeaks as Noctis hops down from the stool, shrugging his new robes off into Ignis' waiting hands, "It's really nice meeting you guys too."

He quietly trails after the trio as they exit the room, thinking this is finally it, his final moments of being in the presence of Lucian royalty. And he's fully intent on savouring it to the very last second, but yeah, his luck's never held out for so long, so he doesn't know why he's been expecting it to. Noctis, Ignis and Gladiolus have wrapped up their purchase and are in the midst of leaving Madam Malkin's, when the dreaded couple of guys from Prompto's transfiguration class swagger boisterously into the store. Of course.

He notices them too late to duck behind a nearby cloak rack.

"Hey," one of the guys call, Prompto sends a silent prayer for the prince to be out of earshot, "It's Pudgy Promp! You didn't tell us you were working over the summer holidays! Think you can get us a discount?"

Noctis pauses at the entrance. And Prompto knows he's heard everything. Gods. He really could use a disillusionment charm right now. Then the prince turns around, glancing over at the group of guys with cool, indecipherable eyes, before that quietly intense gaze settles on Prompto. "Oy."

The other boys fall silent when they notice that the Prince of Lucis is standing right there. And Prompto feels like he's dreaming. He has to be. Maybe he really ought to pinch himself now.

Noctis grins and raises his hand in a little wave. "See you at school, Argentum."

"Uh," Prompto gapes, he knows for a fact the other guys are gaping too, "See you at school, Lu— Lucis Cae…lum?"

And… ugh, he'll be replaying this moment in his head for the rest of his life, cursing himself for that awful foot-in-mouth moment, but Noctis doesn't seem to mind — he just smiles a little wider, then flounces out the door with Ignis and Gladiolus at his heels. And Prompto realises belatedly that he's grinning too. In the next moment, the guys from transfiguration are staring at him with a new-found sort of wary respect, which feels great, by the way. And Prompto's quietly promising himself — he'll make it onto the Hufflepuff Quidditich team next term, then by the next summer holidays, he'll be back here at Madam Malkin's, getting new robes. Seeker-sized.

[aion-rsa]

Nothing Bad Happens in the Succession Season 3 Finale

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This article contains spoilers for Succession season 3.

Here’s the thing about the Succession season 3 finale: everything is going to work out fine for the Roy siblings. 

Despite the sale to GoJo ending any chance of their inheriting Waystar Royco, Kendall, Shiv, and Roman Roy aren’t going to be financially destitute any time soon. The trio has been obscenely rich for so long that is almost functionally impossible for them to ever not be rich anymore. Through their previous jobs at Waystar, allowances, and various investments, each of the Roy children are certainly still multi-millionaires, if not billionaires. Like the Murdoch family children they’re based on, the Roys will always be rich and always be welcome in Illuminati-level high society. Nothing actually bad happens to the Roys in the brilliant “All the Bells Say”. Kendall recovers from a likely suicide attempt in the penultimate episode almost immediately. Nobody else is physically injured, maimed, or killed. Everything is OK.

And yet…the Succession season 3 finale is still somehow among the most devastating hours of television this year – or maybe ever. Fans on social media have taken to calling the events of the finale the show’s “Red Wedding,” and it doesn’t feel like hyperbole. The emotional devastation brought down upon Kendall (Jeremy Strong), Shiv (Sarah Snook), and Roman (Kieran Culkin) from their parents is every bit as brutal as the violent eradication of King Robb Stark’s mother, wife, unborn child, army, and any chance of ever avenging his father’s death. How Succession makes the two events feel even remotely similar is a miracle of storytelling and a reminder of the inherent power that good drama holds over us all.

Throughout its opulent three seasons on HBO, Succession has often been compared to the works of Shakespeare. Like the bard’s best dramas, Succession is a larger-than-life dynastic struggle that is frequently as humorously crass as it is tragic. Never have those Shakespeare comparisons felt more apt than in season 3’s final episode, however. It’s in this installment that Succession reminds us just how scarily wealthy and powerful these people are. Like the actual royalty in Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear, or pretty much any other Shakespearean tragedy, the Roys truly know the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. 

For the second episode in a row, Succession puts HBO’s money to good use by filming on location in beautiful Tuscany. The Roy kids begin the hour by playing Monopoly and being disgustingly, inhumanly rich. Roman congratulates his brother-in-law Tom Wambsgans (Matthew Macfadyen) for improving ratings on their news channel ATN by turning up the “bigot spigot.” After the game, Roman asks his siblings “How was the Monopoly? Did you pay some income tax for the novelty value?” Later when Kendall finally breaks down and confesses to accidentally killing a waiter at Shiv’s wedding, Roman and Shiv are supportive of their brother to the point that they’re downright dismissive over the loss of a human life. 

This episode is filled with example after example of the Roy family’s malevolent influence on the world around them. They are terrible as a collective and they are each terrible in their own individual ways. And even if they weren’t terrible, their mere existence as outsized consumers of the global GDP pie would be fundamentally evil. Succession never hides from that reality. In fact, it leans into it with scenes like those described above. Despite all that, however, it’s nearly impossible not to empathize with the Roy kids throughout all of this finale. 

We’re an empathetic species. We feel bad for those in pain and we simply can’t help it. The ability of Succession’s writers and performers to exploit that empathy is truly remarkable. Look at this instantly iconic shot from the episode below for example.

No one should feel bad for these people. They are all stakeholders in a parasitic media conglomerate that is tearing Western democracy apart. Kendall literally killed someone. But in this moment it’s so hard to remember any of that. When Roman puts his hands on his older brother’s shoulders, Kendall reacts like bolts of lightning are shooting through his body. He gasps and devolves into sobs, shocked at the first real expression of familial support that he’s felt in years. You all but forget that a few episodes ago, the Roys chose an outright white supremacist to be their preferred presidential candidate.

The reason why the Succession season 3 finale is able to make a relatively minor speed bump feel like an outright execution comes down to the acting. In the week leading up to the finale, a New Yorker article profiling Jeremy Strong’s atypical and intense acting techniques went modestly viral. It was fodder for some jokes and became a thing when The Celebs ™ annoyingly got ahold of it and decided to defend one of their own from nonexistent attacks. That moment in the Tuscan dirt, however, more that justifies whatever methodology Strong needs to do to get in character and stay there. 

Every other actor puts in some transcendent work as well. The final 10 minutes or so are an absolute tour de force from Culkin. Roman barely moves during the final confrontation with his father, only lifting his hand to hide his face from his wrath periodically. But his expressions are that of someone being beaten to within an inch of their life by a professional boxer. When the final betrayal goes down, Roman lets out something like a sob before falling to the ground and groveling on the floor in front of his surrogate mommy/surrogate girlfriend/surrogate everything Gerri.

im gonna need THERAPY #succession #successionhbo pic.twitter.com/dy9FITOoUs

— maria (@rcmanroys) December 13, 2021

Meanwhile Shiv looks like she is fully prepared to set the room on fire with her rage. She assures Tom that everything is ok because it has to be. But then falls into such an apocalyptic sourpuss upon being embraced by Tom that the episode has no choice but to close on the image. Even Tom gets in on the action earlier, sharing a scene with Cousin Greg (Nicholas Braun) that is almost unbearably tender. Pop culture has previously had some fun with intensely homoerotic pairings between seemingly heterosexual men before, but Greg and Tom’s relationship makes them all seem silly by comparison. These people live big lives. And Tom well and truly wants to be Nero, paired up with his tall, beautiful Sporus. It’s equal parts grotesque and beautiful. It all works because the actors make it work. 

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Then there’s Brian Cox. Plenty of children have complicated relationships with their father. In this hour, however, Cox’s Logan is more Thanos with an Infinity Gauntlet than Rupert Murdoch. Logan has defeated his children before they’ve even walked into the room to confront him. That incompetence, more than the attempted betrayal itself, is what truly enrages him. He disassembles his own progeny like a demonic surgeon – picking them apart one by one and leaving them in a quivering mess in the corner. 

Again though: nothing truly physical has occurred here. Logan stands up exactly once and yells exactly once. No one is struck. No one even cries, save for Roman’s brief choke after gasping out “dad.” At the end of the day, none of this will even significantly affect the Roy kids’ bottom lines. Hell, just last episode Kendall begged his father to let him out and was denied the opportunity. Somehow though the pain of this parental betrayal consumes all like a thick fog of pure misery spreading across the room. Kendall, Shiv, and Roman’s defeat is so total and their pain is so real that it’s a shock that composer Nicholas Brittel’s brilliant soundtrack isn’t replaced by The Rains of Castamere. The Roys don’t deserve our pity but they get it all the same. That’s the magic trick of well-crafted drama…hell, of well-crafted storytelling in general. 

Though Succession borrows much of its plotting and vibes from Shakespeare, in considering this finale I’m reminded of a far more recent tragicomic genius: Dan Harmon. In the pilot episode of Harmon’s NBC sitcom Community, lead character Jeff Winger (Joel McHale) is charged with bringing his study group back together after tearing it apart. Ever the capable lawyer, Jeff steps out to deliver an inspiring speech with the help of the pencil as a prop. 

“I can pick up this pencil, tell you its name it’s Steve, go like this, and part of you dies on the inside,” Jeff says, snapping the pencil and witnessing his peers’ horrifying reaction. 

Jeff’s point is that people can sympathize with anything, so why can’t the study group sympathize with each other? That pencil had a name and mere seconds after learning it, his friends became invested in it. The Roy family members on Succession are arguably less sympathetic than even pencils. Pencils don’t fundamentally make the world around them worse. The Roys do. 

When the Roys are snapped in half, however, our horrified reaction is still the same. We can’t help but care and Succession knows that. 

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