#the limited poses are an unfortunate. limitation. as is my lack of skill. but it is what it is

[theophagie]

So there are a tower, a princess, and a prince/knight...

The data greeting (+ mods) can be surprisingly inspiring, I was just messing around with stuff when a thought struck me. Kairi isn't a princess in a traditional sense (by blood or other ties to actual royalty), but thanks to the purity of her heart. Even so, the position she's continuously forced into is akin to that of a stereotypical fairytale-esque princess after all. Isolated and made to appear fragile, often reduced to an object or to a passive party, particularly for the sake of Sora's character. Aqua finds herself on the other side of the spectrum: she's a dutiful and chivalrous figure who has been associated with fairytale princes multiple times (arguably she plays the part of one too in regards to Terra and Ventus, the latter especially), and she's unburdened by the same limitations that Kairi faces thanks to her non-proximity to the protagonist. Her moments of weakness aren't just cheap exploits to show off someone else, and she is on even ground with her companions, if not higher

I honestly don't think that Nomura consciously thought about this all things considered and *gestures vaguely* that is not a mess that they can come out of unscathed at this point anyway, but in light of this... by having Kairi ask for Aqua's mentorship, Melody of Memory sets up all the elements for a surprising subversion, one which is already partially at play thanks to their gender tbh. It is subversive for a woman to be a princely figure and a point of reference for strength, and it is subversive for a girl to ask her for guidance. And to circle back... the prince/knight (princely knight? knightly prince?) isn't going to free the princess by taking her away from her metaphorical tower. It's the princess that's going to ask the prince/knight how to become like her so that she may finally free herself

(Conscious or not, hopefully there will be a payoff no matter what though. lol. lmao even <- a cry for help)

[v-anrouge]

get well soon aster xx whatever demons you're fighting are nothing compared to your sisyphus boulder sized ballsack 👍 anyways uurrrgrhgh tearing my hair out.... alt!yuu never being satisfied with the layering or the dimensions or the design so they personally recycle through fits with vil as if he were their own doll. and to think they're so bold! so nonchalant about it! manhandling him like this, tearing layers off and fitting on new ones with ardent interest. no one makes a mere doll of the vil schoenheit. should any fashion designer choose to treat him so indelicately, he'd have dropped them like a sack of overgrown potatoes. oh, but this isn't any fashion designer, of course-- his sweet potato we're talking about. so full of passion for fashion (they call me dr seuss xx), hands rough yet demure with tender care, eyes brimming with a veneer of fire that, if they were to come any closer to his face, he'd be sure he could tell if it was for the clothes or the model himself. he must offer credit where credit is due, and such earnest fervor for the art of fashion is lacking these days. admiration for him, certainly not, he knows it is as abundant as it can be mindless-- but with whole hearted genuinity? for when he is at his most beautiful and at his ugliest? when he is bare and when he is decked out? oh, he wouldn't say no to that. he wouldn't say no to being the apple of their eye, their true passion.

everytime their hands brush against his skin in their fiddling with chains and straps and buckles they'd ask him, "does this feel good? feel alright?" and by God. he knows they're talking about the fitting of the article but yes, prefect. it does feel good. their hands come to rest on his waist far longer than they should and, with a smirk of amused smugness, he asks if they ever get this personal with their other muses. they promptly and nonchalantly respond with, "no. no other muse is as radiant as you, as perfect or as striking as you. not worth all the effort, as you are." oh, and how vil thanks the stars he's renowned for his acting skills too, lest his pounding heart lay siege to his composure and call for it to concede to their earnest sentiments, spoken so naturally, as if it were obvious. the fairest of all is certainly the fairest to this one. he'll make sure their eyes stay on him and only him. so don't look away. watch him steal their heart. when he struts down the walkway yuu is there every step on the way, walking in tandem as they take note of how their clothing fares in motion. and eventually they find the clothing is the least interesting thing here. for every pose he strikes at the end, his eyes hone in on theirs without fail, basking in the awe plastered on their face as their hand shakily jots down notes.

urghhhhgh... im SOOOO balls to the walls about them.... i would also yell about rook but unfortunately my capacity to be insane in the membrane is limited.... im currently sewing the neckpiece of the shirt im working on and i think i see god. like ive had a communion with him. but it'll be worth it right. right.

AJO YOUR BRAIN GOD UR SO GOOD AT WRITING PLEASE ITS SO EASY TK IMAGINE THE SCENES U DESCRIBE💗💗💗💗💗💗💗 THE WAY VOL WOULD FUMBLE WHENEVER YUU FLIRTS HE CAN TEY TO KEEP HIMSELF TOGETHER BUT HE AND YUU KNOWS INSIDE HES SQUEALING LIKE A TEENAGE GIRL WHO GOY WINKED AT BY HER CRUSH HE IS SO WEAK WHEN IT COMWS TO YUU HE JUST CANT HELP IT,💔

IM HONESTLY HIGHKEY INTERESTED ON WHAT UR WORKING IN SO IF U WANT TO U CAN SEND ME A PIC THROUGH SUBMISSIONS BECAUSE IM LIKE 99% SURE U CAN SEND ANONYMOUS SUBMISSIONS ANS SEND PICS

[thimbil]

Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

[interact-if]

Umm hi 👉👈 I realized that most of the asks you guys get are about games and rec lists. You guys deserve so much recognition for the work you put in this blog, so I wanted to ask if I can do a little get-to-know-the-mods thing? If that's okay!

1. Besides writing, what are your hobbies?

2. Do you have a niche interest right now?

3. Any fave songs/artists/bands?

4. Any fave movies/tv shows?

5. On a scale of 1-10, how likely would you survive in your wip's world?

You can totally ignore this if you guys want, no pressure. Anyway, much love to all the interact-if mods! You guys are incredible! ❤

We saw this ask and we went 👀 👀 👀 so we’re happy to answer! Thank you so much for the fun ask!

 We also rated our survivability in all of our collective games, since Mars isn't an author! Fun stuff! Spoilers, though: it’s really not looking so great for me (Dani) but that’s fine!!!  😌

1. I’m a photographer as well as a graphic artist (but not like. A painter/drawer kind of artist!) and, on a general level, a maker and a tinkerer!

2. Fountain pens! I only write with ink, and only with fountain pens, and I use bottled inks/converters!

3. I’m pretty eclectic with music, but my top genres are alt rock, indie, indie pop, etc, as well as top 40s and some rap.

4. I feel like this is the hardest one for me to answer? Favorite movies/shows? Avatar: the Last Airbender has been a favorite show of mine since I was a little kid, but I have a harder time thinking of shows I would call a favorite in recent years. There are shows I’ve liked, and a lot of shows I’ve watched. But I’m picky! And demanding! It takes a lot to earn a place in Dani’s Trophy Case of Favorites. 😌 I would say I quite liked A Quite Place (movie), and I liked Us (movie). When it comes to TV shows, I have a hard time being pleased with them if they don’t end well. As a result, I have a penchant for a good limited series/miniseries (because they’re stories that have an end in mind and the plot reflects that, dagnabbit).

5. Heh. Okay.

In The Goodfellows? I think I stand I chance. I can exercise my sparkling wit and lovable personality to the best effect. I’m gonna give myself an 8/10 survivability rating. Even if I don’t have the right skills, I can go crying to the person who does and they’ll save me. Maybe.

In Creatures’ Cradle? I’m super $**!%d. 😌 1/10 survivability rating. And that 1 is me being nice to myself. The day the apocalypse breaks out I would probably be patient 0. I am self-aware. I would not do well in an apocalypse. Zombies care not for aforementioned sparkling wit and lovable personality, and I have all the muscle of a boiled spaghetti noodle. So it’s a no go.

Greater Than Gods (Cruz): Well. I’m going to be optimistic. And say that I have the wisdom not to do things I shouldn’t do and not to rock boats I shouldn’t rock. I’m going to give myself a 7/10 based on insider information, but also based on reckless optimism!

Vardir (Cruz): Cruz says this is a lighthearted game, so 10/10 LOL.

When it Hungers (Roast): I’m giving myself a nice, mediocre 5/10. I think I could put my mind to work here; I joke that I’m the village idiot, but I’m actually pretty smart! Unfortunately, I’m also curious, and maybe a little bad with authorities who won’t answer my questions. So I knocked off a lot of points due to the fact that I’d probably poke the metaphorical bear. So it’s a real coin flip as to whether I’d really make it or not.

Orthall Bay (Nines): Considering the genre is “horror” and the game intro includes the words “monster” and “maim,” I’m giving myself a whooping, enthusiastic 3/10. Yes, folks, I am that confident in myself! Once again, I can’t charm the socks off a monster (or can I?), so one of my greatest weapons is snatched from beneath my feet. Alas!

1. Beloved I’m a college student in the middle of a pandemic... i can hardly even write LOL i do draw at times which u can see in my personal blog (nothing too good really) and i used to do karate before things went to shit <3

2. Nothing niche I believe? All I do is leave Netflix as bg noise every day n play popular videgames (genshin)

3. Porter Robinson <3 I love Bea Miller a lot as well but lately I’ve been feeling Porter a lot

4. The Good Place <3

5. My WIPs:

Greater than Gods: Highly situational, the world GtG is set in is as broad as the real world LOL so I don’t have an universal answer. But keeping it vague, and knowing my own personality, I feel like 5/10. depends on my luck.

Vardir: 10/10 no one dies in Vikgade, unless you’re a hunter but I wouldn’t be a hunter <3

Others’ WIPs

I'm gonna give myself a solid 5/10 in all other WIPs because y'all aren't writing lighthearted stories either. I feel like as long as I avoid the role of the MC I will be mostly fine. I hope. But as Dani said I'm also prone to fight the wrong person and dig my own grave so 😌

1. Well, writing is a very, very, very, distant hobby since Words Hard, but I like to crochet and sculpt a little! Anything to do with fiddling with my hands and I’m good to go. And like, debatable but graphic design is my passion [insert clown emoji here since Tumblr said No]

2. Oh yeah a bunch! DnD yelling at people, thinking of arson, crocheting, rock climbing and simply vibing. I got into podcasts a few years ago and I’m always looking for more recs, so if you have some, hmu 😤

3. Pls,,,,my music taste is,,,so weird do not let me expose myself with lack of consistency but uhh. Current songs that are stuck in my head include; Cult of Dionysus , Achilles Come Down and The Last Shanty  

4. If you’ve ever spoken to me before, I probably yelled about Pacific Rim to you or at you. Plus I love all The Mummy films and really enjoyed Castlevania (s3 excluded, we do not perceive that) as well! 

5. Ah, mod survival simulator pt. 3

Alright, let’s go!  I don’t have a WIP because again, words hard, but like, considering how feral I am when not tryna seem professional hm... 

The Goodfellows: I wanna say a solid 7/10 because I’d hardcore vibe with the Traveler and probably instigate so much nonsense. I can also bribe with blueberry cake so maybe. 

Creature’s Cradle: maybe a 4/10 and only because of pure spite keeping me alive long enough to smack someone. I’ve prepared for hypothetical  zombie apolcapyses and I won’t hesitate to bap, but will be bapped back because I’m weak as hell. 

Greater Than Gods: a toss up between 2/10 and 7/10! I can vibe and be chill but I also have terrible impulse control so... 

Vardir: hm....I think pretty good survival rates all around? If you ask me to fight then like, okay sure, your knees are mine. So maybe a 8/10? 

When it Hungers: .......8/10 just because I’d refuse to die if I can be a cool creature. Living for the aesthetic can and will drag me outta hell. But I’m also clumsy as hell so I’d probably crash as a porcelain or hold a rooster and perish (aka, real rating is a good 3/10) 

Orthall Bay: 2/10, nope. Nope I’d be taken out in a heartbeat. Monsters can go pspsps and I’d head straight into the dark creepy forest like a fool if someone comes @ me. Half the time I’ll just assume it’s sfx makeup and vibe until it’s too late. 

god, never put me in a universe where I cannot squawk like a bird and throw pebbles from a window. Oof

Anon, you're so sweet! I give you a forehead smoomch <333 As for your questions...

1. If I'm not writing, I'm usually watching video essays on Youtube. My go-to channels as of right now is Disrupt and Aperture! I just really like their videos. Aside from that, I recently got into podcasts. Currently going through Hello From The Hallowoods and Shelter and Warning, which are made by queer creators!

2. Oh oof, there's quite a bit so I'm just gonna put down one thing. For some reason, I really got into collecting tiny astronaut things? I recently bought this astronaut desk light, and I've got a package coming in for the miniatures I ordered. No purpose for them other than I think they're neat <3

3. I'm a bit private with my music taste (even tho I have Spotify connected on Discord lmao), but there's 5 songs that I'm currently obsessed with. I keep replaying them over and over again. Just squeezing all the serotonin I could get outta them.

4. I can't really say I have a fave TV show or movie because I can't really just pick one, but my current fave is 9-1-1 and Resident Alien. 9-1-1 because I just really love the found-family dynamics and how the show tackles sensitive topics, and Resident Alien because it's lighthearted comedy. My all-time fave movie is Flipped! I have the book too and I like rereading from time to time <3

5. You're in for a doozy, anon, because we're rating each other's games <333

The Goodfellows: 7/10

Listen. Shenanigans with the Traveler. I would get up to so many of them and that is what'll get me possibly bodied, not the actual environment itself <3

Greater than Gods: 7/10

I like to think I have enough common sense to uhhh not recklessly flip stones that should not be flipped <3 I'm a cautious and skeptic person irl so I think I'll hold up well? Then again, it's a vast environment change and while I can adapt pretty quick, I wouldn't like the lack of control in the unknown.

Vardir: 10/10

Going off what Cruz said, Vardir is lighthearted and focused on personal growth so I think I'll be okay! Self-growth here I come, babey!

Creatures' Cradle: 8/10

Maybe I'm overestimating myself, but I think I'll be able to survive in a supernatural post-apocalyptic world! Ah, but it depends on the motivation though. I like the idea of rebuilding communities and eventually societies, but the survival turmoil would be a constant battle I'd have to overcome. If we're talking survival itself though, I think I'll do well.

When it Hungers: 8/10

That's probably my wishful thinking but I think I'll be fine. Maybe. Possibly. Don't like the idea of being regulated by an organization so if I was a non-human creature that could pose a problem but I can roll with it <3

Orthall Bay: 6/10

Assuming I'm not playing as MC, my chances of survival uhhh changes quite drastically. Not enough to guarantee an untimely demise, but certainly enough that it would constantly keep me on my toes. I think that's the safest answer I can get without spoiling anything lmao

Thank you so much for asking! It's super sweet of you <3

1. Too many :'D I knit, I sew, I do carpentry (well, learning), I bake, I'm hammering away at HTML and CSS, my job kind of encourages learning new things and I take that to picking up new hobbies!

2. My time is kind of consumed with school work and work work and WIP work so not a lot of time to pursue niche interests right now. I've been watching a lot of horror game playthroughs, true crime youtubers, and an adorable show on Netflix called the Repair Shop <3

3. My taste in music is "what am I vibing with atm?" I've been listening to a lot of 80's music atm (don't @ me), but also Lo Fang and Kaleo, and whatever spotify recommends me on my discover weekly which is usually complete chaos.

4. I love the Mummy even though it hasn't aged 100% well (I'm a librarian, of course it's one of my gotos LOL), Legally Blonde, Leverage, Jumanji (the original), I'm....very bad at having recent tastes... and very bad at remembering my favorites when asked.

5.

The Goodfellows: I'm a creature of comfort, 5/10 if I can just luxuriate in town and not actually interact with the story sfjkdbsdkf

Creature’s Cradle: I'd like to think I have a 50/50 shot XD 5/10, I want to think I'd be decent at a zombie apocalypse but ultimately would suffer an early fate.

Greater Than Gods: 10/10 if I'm just vibing, less so if I'm involved in the actual story XD

Vardir: I'd still suffer without technology but I can also knit for a living in this world so I'm down 8/10

When it Hungers: I feel like I could vibe here, there's tech if dated, hot showers, telephones are around by now... might still get bored. 7/10 though it'd be cool to be another creature....I should make a 'what creature of snv are you' quiz!

Orthall Bay: 7/10 idk I feel like after the first monster of the week I'd just skip town XDDDD I'm the worst protagonist, I see danger I just leave.

[adastraperfortuna]

I Played Cyberpunk 2077

Ultimately, Cyberpunk 2077 is an excellent video game. It’s hard to talk about it without acknowledging the backlash that it received around its launch, but the backlash was directly proportional to the amount of marketing that it got. This happens to a lot of games – and frankly, a lot of my favorite games. If I were working at CD Projekt RED and I was responsible for the kind of marketing that resulted in the kind of expectations that they built for themselves, I’d have to take that sort of stuff into deep consideration. But, as someone who bought the game, enjoyed the game, and desperately wants to talk about the game, I’m not sure that it matters. So, to reiterate: Cyberpunk 2077 is good.

There’s so much game to Cyberpunk that it might be easier to start by talking about my favorite part of it that isn’t a game: the photo mode. I’ve joked before about my favorite gameplay loop in Star Citizen being “taking screenshots,” and that’s not my intent here, but some of my favorite games in recent memory have made it easy to look over the memories I made during their runtime. Interspersed within this review will be some of my favorite screenshots that I took – the inclusion of precise controls for things like depth of field, character posing/positioning, and stickers/frames helped to make my screenshot folder feel less like a collection of moments in a game and more like a scrapbook made during the wildest possible trip to the wildest possible city.

And what a city it is. Night City is my favorite setting in a video game in recent memory. It’s not incredibly difficult to make a large environment, but to make a meaningful environment where every location feels lived-in and the streets are dense with things to see and do? That’s a challenge that very few studios have managed to step up to. More than that, Night City feels unique in the landscape of video game cities – whereas a city like Grand Theft Auto V’s Los Santos is rooted in a reality we’re familiar with, Cyberpunk’s retro-futuristic architecture (and overall aesthetic) help lend it a sensibility that we’re unfamiliar with. It really feels like stepping into another world - fully fleshed-out, fully envisioned.

The environment is obviously beautiful and unique, but I was surprised by just how ornate it was. The thought and consideration that went into details as minor as the UIs you’ll encounter in and on everything from car dashboards to PCs and menus both diegetic and otherwise helps the entire world feel diverse, detailed, and cohesive. While everything feels of a kind and everything is working towards the same design goals, the sheer amount of variety was shocking.

The biggest thing that stuck out to me about Night City itself within just a few hours of playing was how vertically oriented it was. Not just in the “there are tall buildings” sense, though there certainly are tall buildings – I’m talking about the way that Cyberpunk uses verticality to tell stories. The first time that you end up high enough above the skyline to see rooftops will inevitably be during one of your first encounters with Night City’s elite. The hustle and bustle of street life fading away as an elevator climbs up the side of a building and you emerge into a world you aren’t familiar with was astounding. That claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded by monoliths isn’t only alleviated by attending to the rich, though – for similar reasons, my first journey out of the city limits and into the “badlands” will stick with me. Cyberpunk successfully manages its mood and tone by controlling the kind of environments you’ll find yourself in, and while that may seem like a simple, sensible, universal design decision, its consistent application helped ground the world for me in a way that made it feel more real than most of its contemporaries.

Something else that makes Night City feel real is how Cyberpunk implements its setpieces. In a decision that reverberates throughout the rest of the game, CD Projekt was clearly all-in on the notion of immersion and seamless transitions. While it was consistently surprising and exciting to find bombastic moments embedded in the world’s side content (one standout involves Night City’s equivalent of SWAT descending from the sky to stop a robbery in an otherwise non-descript shop downtown), it never took me out of the world. And, on the other end of the experience, the number of memorable, exciting story moments that were located in parts of the city that you had wandered by before helped make the world feel almost fractal, this idea that every building and every corner could house new adventures or heartbreaks.

One thing that did take me out of the experience, unfortunately, were a few of the celebrity (or “celebrity”) cameos. While I think that the core cast was well-cast, with Keanu Reeves as Johnny Silverhand in particular being an inspired choice, the game, unfortunately, wasn’t immune to the tendency to include recognizable faces just because they were recognizable. Grimes plays a role in a forgettable side quest that felt dangerously like it only existed because she wanted to be in the game. There are also an almost concerning number of streamer cameos (“over 50 influencer and streamers from around the world,” according to CD Projekt), and while most of them completely went by me, the few that did hit for me only served to disrupt the world. The only perceived positive here is that most players won’t have any idea who these people are.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that broke immersion in the game. Due to what I can only assume are particularly harsh memory restrictions imposed by the game’s release on last-generation hardware, the game has some of the most aggressive NPC culling that I’ve ever seen. While NPCs don’t strictly only exist in screen space, it often feels like they do, as simply spinning the camera around can result in an entirely new crowd existing in place of the old one. This is obviously rough when it comes to maintaining immersion in crowded spaces on-foot, but it gets worse when you’re driving. Driving on an empty road, rotating the camera, and finding that three seconds later there was an entire legion of cars waiting for your camera to discover them, far too close to slow down, was always a deadly surprise. It doesn’t help that your cars take a while to slow down.

Cyberpunk’s approach towards cars in general is interesting. While I certainly had trouble with them when I began playing, I eventually began to get into their groove. If you want to learn how to drive effectively in Cyberpunk, you have to learn how to drift. After the game’s latest substantial patch, the team at CD Projekt finally fixed my largest problem with the game’s driving – the minimap was simply too zoomed-in, making it difficult to begin to make the right decisions on when and how to turn when traveling at speed. Now that that's resolved, however, whipping and spinning through the streets is fun, and the cars feel appropriately weighty. I’ll still occasionally boot up the game just to cruise around its streets and listen to the radio.

Speaking of the radio, did I mention that Cyberpunk 2077 has one of the greatest game soundtracks that I’ve ever heard? The radio is filled with great original songs from some pretty great musicians, but that’s not where the soundtrack’s beauty starts and it certainly isn’t where it ends. The original soundtrack (composed by P.T. Adamczyk, Marcin Przybylowicz, and Paul Leonard-Morgan) was consistently beautiful, moving, and intense. The world feels gritty and grimy but ultimately beautiful and worth saving, and a great deal of that emotion comes from the soundtrack. While the heavy use of industrial synths could’ve lent itself towards music that existed to set tone instead of form lasting memories with memorable melodies, the sparkling backing tones and inspired instrumentation helped keep me humming some of its tracks for months after last hearing them in-game. I’m no musical critic, I don’t know how much I can say about this soundtrack, so I’ll just reiterate: it’s genuinely incredible.

It certainly helps that the encounters that so many of those tunes are backing up are exciting as well. I was expecting middling combat from the company that brought us The Witcher 3, and while the experience wasn’t perfect, it was competitive with (and, in many ways, better than) the closest games to it than I can point to, Eidos Montreal’s recent Deus Ex titles. Gunplay feels tight, shotguns feel explosive, and encounter spaces are diverse and full of alternate paths and interesting cover. My first playthrough was spent primarily as a stealth-focused gunslinger, using my silenced pistol to cover up the mistakes that my feet made when trying to avoid getting caught. Trying to sneak into, around, and through environments helped emphasize how complex the environments actually were. While it’d be easy to run into a wealth of the game’s content with your guns loaded and ready to fire, that may contribute to a perceived lack of depth in the game’s world design. I’m trying to write this without considering what other people have said about the game, but this particular point has been something of a sticking point for me – there are individual, completely optional buildings in Cyberpunk that have more interesting, considered level design than some entire video games, and the experience of evaluating and utilizing them was consistently mechanically engaging and exciting.

The sheer number of abilities that the player has can be almost overwhelming. While leveling does encourage the player to specialize into certain traits, especially when said traits can also serve as skill checks for the dialogue system and some traversal opportunities, every trait houses a bundle of skills that each house a sprawling leveling tree. Far from the kind of “three-path EXP dump” that you’ll find in a great number of AAA titles, Cyberpunk’s leveling experience can be legitimately intimidating. It’s difficult to plan the kind of character you want to play as when you’re trying to project eighty or a hundred hours forward for a character that will be constantly encountering new kinds of challenges. I certainly didn’t begin my playthrough by wanting to be a stealth-focused gunslinger – in fact, I was originally aiming for a melee-focused hacker build. While I was drawn to what I was drawn to, hearing stories from other players about the kind of builds that they ultimately considered to be overpowered made one thing exceedingly clear: Cyberpunk is a game that rewards every kind of play, possibly to its own detriment.

Cyberpunk’s main story is notably short. I wouldn’t consider this to be a problem, considering the sheer amount of engaging, exciting, heartfelt side content, but it might be the core of the difficulty scaling plateauing so early on. As you progress deeper into the game you’ll find that almost every build, as long as you are willing to commit to something, is more than viable. Look around long enough and you’ll find people saying that every single build is overpowered. For me, that fed into the central power fantasy in an exciting way. By the time that I rolled credits a hundred hours in I was more or less unstoppable, walking into rooms and popping every enemy almost instantly. For others, this was a problem – it can be frustrating to feel like all of your work to become stronger wasn’t met with an appropriate challenge when the time came to put it into practice. This is a difficult problem to solve, and I don’t have a solution. I’ll fondly remember my revolver-toting, enemy-obliterating V, though, so I can’t complain.

Regardless of the scaling, however, the content you play through to arrive at that pinnacle of power was consistently, surprisingly robust. While the differentiation between “gigs” and “side quests” is confusing (word for the wise: gigs are generally shorter and more gameplay-centric missions that are designed by CD Projekt’s “open world” team while the side quests are made by the same team that made the main quests and are generally longer and more narrative-centric), both kinds of side content are lovingly crafted and meaningful. Of the 86 gigs in the game, every single one of them takes place in a unique location with a hand-crafted backstory and (almost always) a wealth of different approaches. These don’t exist separately from the rest of the game’s design philosophy, even if they are made by a separate team, and you’ll often find that decisions made outside of gigs will reverberate into them (and, sometimes, the other way around). I’ve played a great deal of open world games, and never before has the “icon-clearing content” felt this lovingly-crafted and interesting. While the main quests will take you traveling across the map, the side content is what really makes it feel dense and real. You’ll be constantly meeting different kinds of people who are facing different kinds of problems – and, hey, occasionally you’ll be meeting someone who has no problem at all, someone who just wants to make your world a little bit brighter.

It’s surprising, then, that one of the most obvious ways to integrate that kind of content in Cyberpunk is so sparsely-utilized. “Braindances,” sensory playback devices used to replicate experiences as disparate as sex, meditation, and murder, play a critical role in some of the game’s larger quests, but they almost never show up in the side content. You would imagine that the ability to freely transport the player into any kind of situation in a lore-friendly way would’ve been a goldmine for side content, but its use is limited. This isn’t even a complaint, really, I’m just genuinely surprised – I wouldn’t be surprised if they used them more heavily in 2077’s expansions or sequels, because they feel like an untapped goldmine.

Another thing that the game surprisingly lacks is the inclusion of more granular subtitle options. While the game does let you choose the important stuff – whether or not you want CD Projekt’s trademark over-the-head subtitles for random NPCs, what language you want the subtitles to be in, what language you want the audio to be in – it doesn’t include something that I’ve grown to consider a standard: the ability to turn on subtitles for foreign languages only. As the kind of player who avoids subtitles when possible, I went through most of Cyberpunk with them off. Unfortunately, a tremendous number of important cutscenes in the game take place in languages other than English, and I didn’t know that I was supposed to understand what these characters were saying until I was embarrassingly far into one of the prologue’s most important scenes.

NOTE: I was pleasantly surprised to discover after replaying the ending of the game earlier today that they've fixed this issue in a patch. Nice!

I can only complain about the game’s language support so much, because there’s something important that lies between the player and the story they’re there to experience: a fucking incredible English localization. Ironically, it’s so good that I can’t help but imagine that most players won’t even think about it. It’s easy to notice and talk about an excellent localization when it’s from something like a JRPG, something with a clearly different style from what you’d expect from a work made in English, but never once in my entire playthrough did I even briefly consider the idea that it was natively written in anything other than English. I knew that CD Projekt was a Polish studio, but I just assumed that they wrote in English and localized it backwards. The language is constantly bright and surprising, the jokes land, the characters have memorable quirks, everything feels natural, and the voice acting is legitimately some of the best that I’ve ever heard in a video game. Both versions of the main character’s voice were damn-near instantly iconic for me, landing up there with Commander Shepard in the upper echelon of protagonist VO. I can’t praise it enough.

That said, even if the localization was incredible, it’d be hard to appreciate if the meat of the story wasn’t up-to-snuff. I was ecstatic to discover, then, that Cyberpunk 2077 has an incredible story. Every great story starts with a great cast of characters, and Cyberpunk hit it out of the park with that. The core cast of side characters are some of my favorite characters in years. Judy, Panam, River, and Kerry are all memorable, full, charming people. Kerry Eurodyne in particular is responsible for my favorite scene in a game since the finale of Final Fantasy XV. The quest “Boat Drinks,” the finale of Kerry’s quest line, is quietly emotional and intensely beautiful. He, and the other characters like him, are more than the setting they’re in, and the way that the game slowly chews away at the harsh and bitter exterior that the world has given them as it reaches to their emotional, empathetic core consistently astounds. Night City is a city full of noise, violence, destruction, and decay, but you don’t have to participate in it. You don’t have to make it worse. You can be different, and you can be better. You don’t get there alone, you can’t get there alone, and Cyberpunk is a game that revels in how beautiful the world can be if we are willing to find the light and excitement in the people around us.

Of course, Cyberpunk is a video game, it’s an RPG, and the story is more than a linear progression of memorable moments. Something that struck me while making my way through Cyberpunk’s story was how expertly and tastefully it implemented choice. I’m used to games that give you flashing notifications and blaring alarms whenever you're able to make a decision that matters, so I was initially confused by how Cyberpunk didn’t seem reactive to the things I said and did. The game would give me a few options in conversations, I’d select one of them, and then the story would progress naturally. However, as I continued, I began to notice small things. One character would remember me here, a specific thing I said twenty hours before would be brought up by someone there, an action that I didn’t even know I had the choice to not take was rewarded. The game slowly but surely established a credibility to its choices, a weight to your words, this sense that everything that you were saying, even beyond the tense setpiece moments that you’d expect to matter, would matter. It was only after going online after completing the game that I realized just how different my playthrough could’ve been. While nothing ever reached the level of the kind of divergent choices that The Witcher 2 allowed, there were still large chunks of the game that are entirely missable. Three of the game’s endings can only be unlocked through the completion of (and, in one case, specific actions in) specific quests, and multiple memorable quests were similarly locked behind considerate play. This isn’t really a game that will stop you from doing one thing because you chose to do something else, most of the choice-recognition is simply unlocking new options for the player to take, but it always feels natural and never feels like a game providing you an arbitrary fork in the road just for the sake of making it feel artificially replayable. CD Projekt has already said that they made the choices too subtle in Cyberpunk, but I deeply appreciate the game as it is now – more games should make choices feel more real.

It helps that the dialogue system backing up some of those choices is dynamic and the cutscene direction backing those scenes up is consistently thrilling. The decision to lock you in first-person for the entire game was an inspired one, and it resulted in a bevy of memorable scenes made possible by those interlocking systems. There are the obvious ones – being locked in a smoky car with a skeptical fixer, getting held at gunpoint by a mechanical gangster with his red eyes inches away from your own and a pistol’s barrel just barely visible as it presses against your forehead, having to choose between firing your weapon and talking down someone with a hostage when in a tense, escalating situation. There are also a million smaller ones, situations where the scale of the world becomes part of the magic. The first time that I sat down in a diner and talked with someone I had to meet or the first time that I rode along through the bustling downtown of Night City as a politician sized me up will stick with me because the perspective of the camera and the pacing of the real-time dialogue interface combine to make almost everything more powerful. There’s so much effort put into it – so many custom animations, so many small touches that you’d only see if you were staring intensely at every frame. All of that effort paid off, and the controversial decision to strip third-person out of the game was ultimately proven to be one of the smartest decisions that CD Projekt has ever made.

Another decision that helped power an exciting, engaging story was how the game freely manipulates the time and weather during key story moments. It’s a small touch, it’s one that you won’t notice unless you’re looking for it, but every once in a while you’ll walk into a place during a crystal-clear day and come out five minutes later to discover that it’s a cold, windy, rainy night and you have a city to burn. Along with the first-person limitation, this initially feels like something that could only harm immersion, but when it’s backed up by a story that motivating and scenes that thrilling you’d be hard-pressed to notice it outside of the flashes of telling yourself that this scene or that scene is the best that you’ve played in a long time. This also helps avoid a problem that games like the Grand Theft Auto series consistently face – instead of letting scenes happen at any time, compromising direction, or doing something like a timelapse, sacrificing immersion, Cyberpunk manages to always keep you in the action while also presenting the action in its most beautiful and appropriate form. There are moments where it truly feels like it’s meshing the kind of scene direction that’d be at home in a Naughty Dog game, the gameplay of Deus Ex, and the storytelling of the WRPG greats, and in those moments there is nothing else on the market that feels quite like it.

I sure have talked a lot about this game’s story, considering the fact that I have barely brought up its central hook. The early twist (unfortunately spoiled by the game’s marketing), the placement of a rockstar-turned-terrorist-turned-AI-construct firmly in your brain after a heist goes wrong and your best friend dies, helps establish a tone that the rest of the game commits to. Johnny Silverhand starts as an annoying, self-centered asshole with no real appreciation for how dire your situation is, but by the end of the game he had more than won me over. Reeves’s performance was really stellar, and the relationship between him and V is incredibly well-written. More than that, his introduction helps spur on a shift in the way that you engage with the world. The first act is full of hope, aspiration, the belief that you can get to the top if you hustle hard enough and believe. After you hold your dying friend in your arms and are forced to look your own death in the eyes, though, things begin to turn. Maybe the world is fucked up, maybe it’s fucked up beyond belief. But there Johnny is, telling you to fight. Why? Every time you fight, things get worse.

But the game continues to ruminate on this, it continues to put you in situations where fighting not only fails to fix the problem, but it makes it worse. Despite that, it’s positive. For me, at least, Cyberpunk’s worldview slowly came into alignment, and it’s one that I can’t help but love. Cyberpunk 2077 is a game about how important the fight is, how important believing in something is, even if you’re facing impossible odds, even if there’s no happy ending. It’s a story that posits that giving up is the worst ending of all, that your only responsibility is to what’s right and to the ideals that you and the people you love want to live up to. The game uses every story it can tell, every character it can introduce you to, and every encounter it can spin into a narrative to drive that home. And, when the ending comes, it was phenomenal. All of the endings were powerful, effective, and meaningful to me, but I’m more than happy that I went with what I did.

Cyberpunk 2077 is an excellent video game. It’s not flawless, but no game is, and at its core it's one of the most fun, beautiful, narratively engaging, and heart-filled games that I’ve ever played. I couldn’t recommend it highly enough, and I sincerely hope that everyone who has skipped out on it because of what they’ve heard is able to give it a shot someday. Maybe they’ll love it as much as I do. Wouldn’t that be something?

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch9

This was meant to be just a quick bit of practice at freehand drawing so I could work on doing neat straight lines and circles.  Then I found my old glass paints that have been in a box for...8 years (?) and suddenly I now have a WASP suncatcher.  I’m a bit wobbly with the relief edging, probably not helped in that the tubes had gone a bit firm and funky, but I’m predicting more sun catchers and maybe a few candle holders will appear soon.

Many thanks are due to @willow-salix​ who has provided much hand holding and head pats.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Nine

Gordon fell into line amongst the other hopefuls.  For the next few days he wasn’t Gordon Tracy, Olympian and heir to one of the largest fortunes in America, he was Number 14 and the anonymity suited him just fine.  The elastic armband around his bicep was the sole identifier to distinguish him from the other candidates as the assessors marked down their observations.  Only the course leader had the information that linked names to numbers; each stage of selection was kept separate to avoid bias.  

“Atten...shun!”

The command was barked out by the officer placed in charge of his group and Gordon found himself jumping to the alert and snapping his feet together automatically.  Evidently something had remained buried deep in his memory from all the times watching Scott being taught drill by their father or practicing out in the yard in Kansas all those years ago.  The rest of the group also snapped to attention with varying degrees of success.

“Group C, your first test is pool fitness.  You have two minutes to fetch your swimming kit and fall back into line.  Go!”

There was a mad scramble towards the door of their temporary accommodation as Gordon and the other potential recruits allocated to group C raced to retrieve their kit from their bunks.  They had barely been on base for an hour but had already learnt that failure to meet a time limit or just being last to complete a task would result in being given punishment press ups.  By the time they had reassembled groups A and B were nowhere to be seen, evidently separated off to undertake one of the other selection tests.

As they marched across the base to the pool Gordon couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased that his group was getting to swim first.  This was his natural environment and he justifiably had every confidence in his own abilities.  It would also give him a good chance to stretch out his muscles after sitting around in the airport and then being cramped in an airline seat; domestic flights were always taken in coach class for a Tracy son travelling solo.

Once within the pool building more orders were barked giving a time limit to get changed.  Gordon quickly found a space on the bench and started stripping.  Some of the other recruits seemed a little uncomfortable about changing in the communal space but Gordon figured that privacy would often be hard to come by within the submarine service and now was not the time to be worried about modesty.  After years of completing the action several times a week he could be in his kit almost as quickly as he could swim 200m and he was one of the first ready.  

He snapped on his sunshine yellow swimming cap drawing a few strange looks but Gordon shrugged them off; so what if only a couple of candidates in his group were wearing them?  To Gordon the cap was just a standard part of his kit, however he was glad he had decided to leave his Team USA branded items at home and opt for his plain training set; there was no need to draw more attention to himself than was strictly necessary.

Out on the poolside the elastic armbands were replaced by numbered stickers slapped on shoulder and thigh.  From the way the sticker pulled tightly at the skin Gordon just knew that ripping it off later would be a painful experience.  Once numbers had been applied everyone lined up expectantly, awaiting further orders.

“Right, I want two circuits of the pool as warm up.  No cutting the corners.  No touching the wall.  Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir!”  the chorus of voices responded in unison.  

“Into the water, in number order.  Go!”

One by one the men allocated to group C were counted into the water to complete their circuits around the perimeter of the pool.  The pace was frustratingly slow for the Olympian whose number placed him towards the rear of the pack and it took a lot of self control not to stretch out and overtake those ahead of him.  

The slow pace allowed Gordon plenty of opportunity to look around the facility.  WASP evidently invested in its sporting areas for the pool itself was up to Olympic standards even if the viewing and changing areas were a little more basic than Gordon had encountered at some of his competitions.  If he was given the opportunity to continue his swimming training, and it wasn’t unheard of to encounter military participants released for competitions, he would have no complaints about the standard of the Marineville pool.  Unfortunately his appraisal of the facilities nearly earned him a kick in the face, he hadn’t realised how close he had got to the swimmer in front and had to drop his pace yet again to maintain some distance.  For him the actual tests and the chance to stretch out his limbs couldn’t come soon enough.  

With warm-up over the first eight swimmers were allocated their lanes.  Gordon watched the action even more closely than the assessors, critiquing the style of others was all part of his ingrained training and he winced at some of the sloppy dives and mangled turns.  Still, the tests were about meeting a minimum standard rather than being competition ready.

Soon enough it was time for swimmers 9 through to 16 to claim a lane.  It didn’t escape Gordon’s notice that his number placed him in lane six and the coincidence struck him as lucky.  If you had asked him just a few months ago what his favourite lane was he would have promptly answered four but after his Olympic success he has developed a soft spot for his current position, after all it had been good enough to earn him gold and a world record.  He adjusted his goggles and wiggled his toes on the edge of the pool, he would have preferred to use a starting block but he could adapt.

The sound of the whistle had him launching into the water in a clean dive.  There had been no stipulations on the stroke to be used and Gordon automatically found himself using his preferred butterfly, unaware of the raised eyebrows this was causing among the onlookers; his rejection of freestyle making him stick out almost as much as the yellow hat.  That and the fact that he left the other candidates in his wake.  He shot through the water, powerful muscles propelling him towards the finish at a rate that far exceeded expectations.

Less than 2 minutes later and Gordon had completed his fourth lap and finished the test.  He had taken it easy, or at least he thought he had until he turned and realised the next nearest swimmer was almost a full lap behind him.  He returned bemused stares with a shrug and a smile before placing his hands on the poolside and launching himself out to sit on the edge and wait for the others to finish.

The remainder of the pool tests passed in much the same fashion with Gordon easily outstripping his cohort.  He could swim faster, dive further and hold his breath for longer than any of the others.  His techniques were sharp and in the water he moved with a strength and grace that were enviable.  Even skills like casualty towing, which wasn’t part of his usual repertoire, came naturally to him and he aced the tests with ease.  The assessors scribbled some hurried notes on their pads; when it came to the water based activities at least candidate 14 was marking himself out as someone to watch.

xoxoxox

The first day drew to a close and Gordon was thankful when his group were released to the freedom of their dormitory.  The pool session had been swiftly followed by a run then a drill lesson in one of the large parade squares dotted around the base.  His muscles were weary and clearly grumbling at the lack of deep stretching after his swim but he was in a better shape than many in the room.  WASP only accepted the very best to join its ranks and the selection tests were designed to weed out those not up to standard.  Already three beds in his room were empty after their allocated occupants had withdrawn, either having had a change of heart or to avoid the shame of being rejected at the end of the course having already failed too many of the test elements. 

Tempting as it was to just flop down onto his bunk Gordon knew from painful experience that he would regret it the following day.  He settled himself on an empty patch of floor and started running through some yoga poses to try and work out the tension in his back and legs.  Just because the instructors hadn’t given them much opportunity to stretch didn’t give him the excuse to neglect his body.  It also gave him something productive to do while waiting for his turn in the showers.

His activities drew some curious looks and half-sniggered comments from the others in the room but he zoned out and ignored them, instead focussing on his form until the showers came free.  He didn’t have long to wait, two showers came free at the same time and both he and Number 13 grabbed their towels and headed through to the wash rooms.

He stripped down to his shorts and picked experimentally at the stickers left in place after the pool session, the glue was strong and part of him was tempted to leave them except the edges were just beginning to lift and annoy him.  He gritted his teeth, pinched the loosest corner and ripped back sharply.  He swiftly repeated the action on the second sticker then rubbed briskly at the angry red patches left on his skin.

“That looked painful.  Not too sure I want to do that to myself”

He looked up, met the eyes of Number 13 and grinned.

“It’s just like pulling off a band-aid.  Nothing to it.” 

“Rather you than me.  I think I'll try and get mine in the shower.”

They went their separate ways into the empty cubicles and Gordon turned the shower up high.  The accommodation might be spartan but he was glad the water was hot and plentiful.  The powerful drops blasted away the sweat and chlorine that had built up on his skin and he turned his face into the stinging stream.  Much as he would have liked to stand there for longer he knew others were waiting their turn and it wouldn't be fair to hang around.  The temptation was strong but he hadn’t been impressed by the amount of time some candidates had taken and it wasn’t fair to keep the last few waiting longer than they had to.  

All too soon he was back in the chilly dorm room, hauling himself onto the bunk that had been marked out as his.  Eight sets of bunk beds lined the room, with thirteen of the individual beds now filled.  He wondered how many more gaps would appear as the selection course progressed.  Murmurs of conversation broke out around the room as the participants made use of the first real chance they had to get to know each other since arriving.  The instructors had kept them busy all afternoon and unnecessary chatter during the tasks had been swiftly quelled by punishment press ups,  but now, with no instructors around, the candidates could speak more freely.

Gordon lay back and listened.  It was the usual first-night whispers he remembered from some of his swim camps; name, city but unsurprisingly not their favourite distance and stroke.  The introductions travelled around the room; it seemed Marineville saw applicants from the west coast right through to the central states.  Gordon knew it would soon be his turn and he resolved to say as little as possible, he was enjoying being just another person in the crowd.

“So what about you 14?”

“Gordon, I'm from LA.” 

If he thought he was going to be able to get away with the bare minimum he was sorely mistaken.

“So what were you doing before you decided to try out for WASP?  You're built like a tank and you swim like a fish.  You some personal trainer or something?”

“Me? Uh, I've just high finished school.  I do swim competitively though.”

Thankfully the candidate doing the questioning latched on more to the school part than the swimming.

“Only just left school?  You don't act like some kid, I thought you were at least 20, maybe 22.”

“Nope, only 17.”

“Jeez, that makes you the baby of the group.  So what do your family think of you heading off to sea first chance you get?”

Thankfully Gordon was spared answering by a bellow from the doorway.

“This is a military base, not a holiday camp.  If you lot have enough energy to gossip you obviously aren't working hard enough.  Now if I hear another sound from this room I will have you outside running laps until you drop.  Do you understand me?”

A chorus of “Yes, Sir!” rang out before the room descended into total silence.

Gordon rolled over, wondering what challenges tomorrow would bring.

xoxoxox

The second day of selection started with the sound of drums at daybreak.  Sleepy heads were raised in confusion.  Others who were quicker on the uptake, Gordon included, leapt from their beds and started throwing on clothes.  He was glad he hadn’t skimped on the stretches the night before, some of his contemporaries were looking decidedly stiff after the exertions of the previous day.

The now familiar sound of shouting filled the room.

“Up!  Up!  Sports kit on and outside for PT before breakfast.  Move!”

Gordon was no stranger to early morning training.  As the first beats had sounded from the speakers in the corners of the room he had been on his feet, all shreds of sleep disappearing in an instant.  It was an enviable skill and obviously not one possessed by all in the room.  To the observing instructor in the doorway  Number 14 shone through yet again as one of the stronger candidates.

   There was no denying that WASP selection was a taxing experience. The group was whisked from one set of tests to another.  If it wasn’t their bodies being tested it was their minds as they sat exam papers or explored leadership scenarios.  By lunch time another member of his group had dropped out, and judging by the numbers sitting down to eat groups A and B were now similarly depleted.  Even those that lasted the distance had no guarantee they would be accepted to wear the prestigious grey uniform; the standards might have an absolute minimum but it had been made clear that if more met the standard than was needed then only the very best would be made an offer.

While many were struggling Gordon was relishing the challenge.  It was as though he had found his niche.  Even the written tests, which he had approached with some trepidation, had been well within his comfort zone which helped his confidence soar.  Theories and concepts which had seemed so abstract at school seemed to make more sense when applied to a real life scenario and for once in his life Gordon walked away from a classroom without feeling a failure.

After lunch group C were to take their turn on the obstacle course, a gruelling array of beams, walls and aerial wires that would require both strength and agility to navigate.  To Gordon the course looked like a massive playground and he couldn’t help but grin at the prospect.

The instructors divided the group into smaller teams of four and Gordon’s team set off onto the course first at the sound of the whistle.  

The group raced along, leaping over pits using rope swings and stepping along narrow beams as quickly as their balance allowed, each candidate aiming to be the first to reach and therefore clear each piece of equipment.  It was every man for himself.  That was until they were brought up short by a 10 foot wall.  Number 6, who was keen to keep his early lead, took a running jump at the obstacle.  His fingers caught the top edge but he was unable to keep a good enough grip to climb over and he soon fell back down again.

To Gordon the solution was obvious; it was quickly becoming apparent to him that this test was different to those that had gone before and if they were to have any hope of making it through successfully then teamwork would have to be the order of the day.  

“Look, if any of us are to stand a chance of getting through this course we are going to have to work together.”

Number 6, after a second failed leap, was quick to agree.  Numbers 3 and 10, arriving a moment later, could also see sense in the plan.  

“Sure.  So how are we going to tackle this one.”

Three sets of eyes turned to Gordon expectantly.  Having been the one to voice the idea the others were evidently expecting him to come up with the solution.  He thought for a moment then turned and planted his back against the wall, bending his knees to make a step.

“6, you’re tallest, you go first.  Use me as a ladder to get up but stay on top of the wall, don’t drop down the other side.  You can then help up 3 and 10.  Once you’re all on top you can reach back down and haul me over.  Got it?”

There were three nods of agreement. 

Gordon braced himself as first his legs then his shoulders were used as steps.  Once.  Twice.  A third time.  His clothes became marked with muddy footprints but he didn’t care, the plan was working and he was soon being bodily lifted up and over the obstacle by the team he had helped up first.

Having made the decision to work together the group soon found themselves speeding through the course.  Many obstacles, while able to be attempted solo, could be cleared much quicker with careful cooperation and support; Gordon had evidently read the situation correctly.  

Despite being the youngest the others seemed happy to defer to him as their leader and Gordon found himself naturally assuming command of the team.  He directed the group to make the best use of their combined talents.  Before long the band of four found themselves at the far end of the course, just one final obstacle to navigate their way over then the run for home.

Using their now tried and tested method the team were soon atop the final wall despite it being the biggest yet.  From here they could look back over the whole course, the other candidates and their assessors were indistinct figures in the distance.

“Wonder who that is come to visit?  Probably from the World Navy.  Best make sure we put on a good show, they might be important.”

From his lofty vantage point Gordon looked back towards the start point.  Number 6 was right, someone new had joined the cluster of watching assessors, the dark blue of their uniform a stark contrast to WASP grey.

“No idea.  Come on, let's finish this as a team.”

The group jumped down from the final obstacle and began the mad sprint back to the beginning of the course and their waiting assessors.  As they closed the gap between themselves and the waiting officers, making sure no one was left behind, the mystery figure resolved itself into a familiar form for Gordon 

Recognition led first to confusion and then to anger.

Scott.

[fifteenleads]

the perfect shot

AO3 | FFNet

Based on the new Chuuya art, glorious!

.

“T-There’s really such a thing?”

Osamu snickers— nothing like good, useless calendar trivia to catch Chuuya’s near-impenetrable attention span over morning coffee. As expected of someone who claims to love all things about bikes, he sure is bad at everything else apart from his hobby.

He takes a photo of Chuuya mucking around with the packet of Aspartame; casual moments often make the best subjects. After he saves the shot, he decides to rile his chibi up, just for the heck of it: “Of course, there is. August 19th of every year is Bike Day. I thought you knew that already?”

Chuuya dons an expression between fascination and skepticism as he considers the idea. He can doubt it all he wants, but a quick search on Google will only prove Osamu’s point, and his pride won’t allow him to grant that satisfaction on a platter, so Osamu wins, either way.

“... Okay,” he does concede, sipping his sweetened black coffee, “so what if it is? I still have to look over the articles for the magazine. Deadline’s next week, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Scratch that— maybe Chuuya is serious about other things, too. Granted, it is a magazine about bikes, but to boast of being an editor by day, model by night, and bike enthusiast always, is certainly a feat not many people can do. It requires much dedication, something Chuuya always has had.

The thought makes Osamu smile, in all earnest. No one else but  he  can boast of being together with such a good catch of a man, so there’s that, too.

“We’ll cross the bridge when we get there,” he reassures. “For today, how about let’s put those nighttime modeling skills of yours to use in broad daylight, and take photos with your bike at the seaside park? It’s a good day to ride, don’t you think?”

“N-Nighttime modeling,” Chuuya sputters; luckily, he hasn’t taken another sip of coffee yet. “It’s a perfectly legal second job, not a shady sideline!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Osamu dismisses with a whimsical wave of his hand. “You love me, too, so there’s that.” For all intents and purposes, though, he is offering a spontaneous gig right now, and given how they’re both cash-strapped idiots this time of the month, it’s an offer he knows Chuuya wouldn’t refuse, all things considered.

As expected, he doesn’t. “... Fine. Let me get my hat and jacket. You can go ahead to the garage.” Chuuya downs the rest of his coffee in a few seconds and goes back up to their room, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he does.

Osamu rises, too, smirking in amusement. So demanding, yet so agreeable.

-

The ride to the park takes only fifteen minutes, more or less, but to Osamu, it feels a lot longer than that. A huge part of it is due to the fact that it’s difficult for a tall person to ride on the back of a motorcycle, mostly for the lack of legroom, if nothing else. He willingly tolerates the slight discomfort, though, as he holds firmly onto Chuuya’s waist, letting the mid-morning sun and the humid sea air hit his arms as they coast through the empty highway.

Chuuya remains focused on the road ahead, tiny beads of sweat trailing down his face from under his helmet. Osamu licks at the sweat forming on his own philtrum; the spare helmet is a little too small for his head, and he predicts a migraine coming on sometime this afternoon, if they do not wrap this up fast enough. Not that he minds at all, though— he had made Chuuya agree to having the rest of the day off and to themselves. God knows how much he needs sleep, and if Osamu has to come up with an elaborate plan to make it happen, he will.

For now, though, they both enjoy the feeling of sheer freedom at the moment, eyes no doubt shining with exhilaration as they speed along without a care in the world. They soon exit the highway via a side road and follow the coastline, only slowing down as the lighthouse finally comes into view.

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Osamu comments, breathing in the thick scent of brine and wet sand as he takes off his helmet. They are at an open area of the park just near the wharf, and the sea has never been this close. Chuuya wordlessly takes the helmet from him and stores it away in their duffel bag along with the rest of their equipment.

Osamu doesn’t really have much to set up for this shoot, in all honesty. He absolutely hates organized shoots, with all the hustle and bustle and bright lights and tangled wires that make him want to just get it done with and pack up. He much prefers the outside, with everything quiet and natural, and it’s just him and Chuuya, quietly working together like two halves of a whole, well-oiled machine, as it were.

That is to say, he only wants Chuuya all to himself, as his exclusive model and more. There, much simpler.

He looks back up as Chuuya takes a break from practicing poses, taking off his hat and unbuttoning his leather jacket. He casually leans on the side of his bike, as if reverently holding it up with his toned hips and legs, in fitted blue jeans and dusty brown boots. There is a very fond look in his eyes as he traces the engraving on the front of the bike— a real red beauty that drives like a dream, limited edition only because he had more than earned it, and in Chuuya’s own words, “love at first sight.”

The memory of those words move Osamu’s heart and index finger, and the shutter clicks at the right moment, as the downwind blows gently and the leaves on the ground dance in the air.

A perfect shot.

Just then, the clicking sound breaks the spell on Chuuya, and he looks up to Osamu, wearing an expression of both confusion and disappointment. “Are we starting already?”

“In a bit. Just checking the lighting,” Osamu follows it up, likewise making a show of adjusting the settings on his DSLR so Chuuya doesn’t see the disappointment, too, in his own eyes. The ruined moment is his own doing; best to let it go, like everything else in life that ceases to matter after a good twelve hours and then some.

He lets his gaze linger just a few moments longer on the preview of the shot just now; casual moments really do make the best subjects, but he won’t tell Chuuya that.

“Oi.” It is Chuuya who calls his attention this time, an order Osamu knows he can never refuse. “Are you ready or what?”

“Okay already, just pose whatever.” It’s pretty much the only instruction he has ever given whenever they team up for shoots; he trusts Chuuya’s better judgment and sensibility when it comes to these kinds of things. It’s also what Chuuya is most comfortable with, he has learned over time, and he is only more than happy to accommodate that. Anything for the one he loves, who loves him back just as much.

They finish up in half an hour, and get ready to go back as thick clouds begin to cover the high noon sun— definitely have to hurry back home now, lest they get stranded on the highway with nowhere to hide under when it rains.

Midway through the ride back, Chuuya slows down a little, turning slightly towards Osamu. “Something on your mind, mackerel? You’ve been awfully quiet since we left.”

“Hey, I’ve always been quiet when we ride together,” Osamu protests weakly; luckily, his helmet hides the wistful smile on his lips. “Don’t want you to get in an accident, do we?”

“Excuses,” Chuuya mumbles, before raising his voice again. “Out with it.”

So obstinate. “It’s not much, really…” Osamu trails off, choosing his words carefully. The memory of the perfect shot is a clear vision in his mind, and the smile on his face morphs into that of a fond one. “With the way Chuuya is looking at his bike, it must probably be a metaphor for something or for someone. I wonder who he's thinking of?”

“T-That’s what you’re thinking of!?” Chuuya’s muffled voice is colored in disbelief, and Osamu knows he has gotten his message across, loud and clear. He speeds up again to the upper limit, and they get back a whole three minutes earlier than usual. A good thing they haven’t been caught by the highway police at all; getting a violation ticket would certainly make an unfortunate dent in their plan to laze around the whole afternoon, and that won’t do at all.

[greennct]

chenle in your camera lens

fansite!au, i've had this idea for ages, i thought it was super cute!! let me know what u think, i tried to make it as fluff-y as possible bc chenle is my baby! it’s also bullet pointed bc i wanted to see how it would feel to write in that style & honestly i was literally just trying to write like @warmau​ bc she’s super talented & i love her im so sorry i had to drag u into this 💞💖💘

edit!! i just posted a part 2 to this fic, which you can find here!

(3.2k words yo what, no triggers apart from chenle making cute meme faces which genuinely actives my soft sad hours)

song rec: notice me by spinn

not to brag, but like,,,, you were pretty famous as far as fansites go

part of it was because you had just been around for so long, taking photos of zhong chenle pretty much since the first day of his debut

and part of it was how talented you were at capturing the boy so authentically

but the main reason nctzens knew/loved/worshipped you, was because of how effortless and pure your interactions were with him

before you had even heard the word kpop, your passion had always been photography

however since you were still in high school, you were broke and unable to really pursue your dream properly

like seriously, apart from one half-broken digital camera you were pretty sure hadn’t been upgraded since 2003, the photography department at your school was pretty much nonexistent. you found yourself getting more and more upset about the fact you weren’t allowed to do what you loved every day

so it really was only a matter of time before you decided to take matters into your own hands

immediately after having spent a ridiculous amount of money on a mediocre, but at least functioning camera, you decided to take it out the next weekend you could, to try and capture some action in the streets of seoul

you were expecting cute photos of couples, candids of children playing, maybe even some views of the city (if you could be bothered to find a rooftop), or anything else that struck your fancy

what you were not expecting, was a world-famous boyband filming some kind of variety show on your local high street

what you certainly did not expect at all, was to suddenly find yourself staring at the cutest boy you had ever seen in your life

there were seven or eight people with cameras already at the scene, furiously clicking away. you sidled up to the closet person you could find, and half-whispered to her, scared of disturbing the lighting speed of her shutter closing, to ask if she knew what the boy with the ash brown hair was called

you were told his name was chenle, & without having to think, you lifted the viewfinder to your eye, and snapped your first photo of him. you still have it today, it’s the first thing that pops up when someone searches your blog, a candid of him laughing at something jisung had said.

every time you look at it, you get this little fuzzy feeling in your stomach, reminded of the very first day that he had caught your eye, by doing something as simple and normal as laughing at a joke

since then, there was no looking back. you steadily made a name for yourself as a chenle fansite, with your amazing photography skills

and sure, your action shots of him dancing were ethereal, and your lack of whitewashing gained you popularity from a lot of fans, but your specialty, the reason everyone flocked to your blog directly after every awards show, was because of your candids of chenle

somehow, you had a knack for knowing exactly when to capture a giggle, pout or shocked reaction to one of the dreamies antics, managing to encapsulate chenille’s bubbly personality within a single frame

people who had met nct dream started referring your photos to international fans, claiming that your photos were the closest thing one could get to actually seeing what chenle was like irl

but even that wasn't the full reason that you became to famous and loved by nctzens

seriously, when the regular/irregular album came out, your inbox was fukk of messages from nctzens begging you to break into sm and reshoot the whole photobook

however, even though you loved taking photos of chenle, the problem was that you were basically his age

you were still in high school, living with your parents, and essentially under their control

having to originally been monitored by your mother every time you went to any kind of nct dream event, you quickly made friends with the other fansites, so that you wouldn’t have to  chaperoned, but instead was supervised by people you trusted, who were responsible adults

however, this didn't stop the older photographers from always teasing you, when you had to leave an awards show at 10pm with the rest of the underage members, were slightly late to an interview, because you had to rush from school, or even from time to time when you whipped out your laptop at a schedule, balancing it precariously on your raised knee whilst waiting for chenle, needing to submit an assignment to your teacher within the half hour

it quickly became a joke within the nctzens, the tiny, underage chenle fansite, who everyone loved to baby, with more talent than half of the adult photographers

what's more, you work didn't go under appreciated by the dreamies themselves

((((not to brag or anything,,,, but like,, you had the highest percentage of photos with chenle directly smiling at your lens than pretty much any other fansite))))

he knew that you were the same age as him, and mentioned it from the first fansite you went to. he told you to drop any formalities since you were “friends now,” and always teased you whenever he saw you

one of the ways that chenle would do this, was by always making a silly face before posing properly, sticking out his tongue, crossing his eyes, or doing some other dumb facial expression

he did it to tease you, trying to ruin your photos, as he had always asked why you couldn’t eve seem to take a bad photo of him

of course you had replied that it wasn't your skills that made the photos so pretty, it was him (with an extremely red face lmaoo), & so chenle tried to take that as a challenge

whenever he was sure no one else was looking, he would pull the most horrible faces for you to take photos of, trying to sabotage your photography

and of course you whined to yourself that he still managed to look incredibly endearing even with cross-eyes and some drool dripping off his chin

and you were sure other nctzens would die as much as you did with how sweet he looked in the photos - after all, the candid shots were completely on-brand for you

but somehow you could never bring yourself to upload the photos online, deciding there was something that would make your heart hurt a little bit at allowing other people to see those photos

even though you knew better,,,,, you wanted to pretend his expressions were just for you

of course you had a crush on chenle, it was hard to follow around such an effervescent & cheeky boy for so long without developing at least some kind of feelings for him

& though you felt your heart flip a little every time he complimented your photos, or told you that you looked nice that day,,,

you also weren't delusional. you knew that you didn't have a chance, you were literally just a fansite, & it was chenle’s job to be nice to you

because you were so conscious of coming off as creepy with your pretty obvious crush, you always made sure to completely respect his boundaries

you prided yourself on turning off your flash if you thought the dreamies looked tired, and when you started making enough money from your photos to follow them to different countries, you made sure to take different flights and stay at other hotels, if their details ever got leaked, not wanting to feel like you were stalking them

instead of ever acting on your emotions, you stayed content with the stupid faces he made you, convincing yourself they were just for you, and tried to shove your feelings deep, deep down

& for a while,,,, it worked. you & chenle stayed,, not friends but,, something closer than just a casual fan

he knew your name, he would always wave in your direction when he recognised you, and you would always hide your furious blush behind the camera lens when he sent you the occasional wink or finger heart

& that was enough for you,, until unfortunately, life started getting in the way

college was drawing closer and closer, & you had to start scrambling to put together a portfolio of your photography to apply to schools with

you realised you probably needed some more extracurriculars, so signed up for a copious amount of clubs, started volunteering for extra credit, actually studying for tests, and even hanging out a lot more with your friends, having realised with a shock, that you had limited time left to share with them before you all went to different schools

with all that going on, you barely had time to scroll through your social media accounts when you finally got to bed,

you spent the half an hour before your eyes drooped so low you were forced to turn your phone off scouring furiously through the photos other fansites had taken of chenle, scouring for any photos of the weird faces he made, if he had started doing them for someone else now that you had been away for a while

searching for a sign they weren’t just for you, and you had been delusional for hoping against hope this whole time

funnily enough, you actually ended up receiving the exact opposite of what you feared

upon opening your twitter one night, you discovered you had a lot more mentions than usual, all tagging you in one video

clicking on it, your stomach dropped slightly. it was taken at an award ceremony, previously your favourite time of the year, because it meant you got to see chenle almost every day. now you just felt a pang in your stomach - you couldn’t see chenle at all at the moment

it was a video of him turning to converse during an ad break with a jaemin fansite, one who had taken care of you a lot when you had first started to take photos

he mouthed the name of your fansite, raising his hands in a quizzical manner. you almost dropped your phone. upon calming yourself, and reasoning that of course he knew the name of your fansite, he spoke about it with you all the time, you resumed the video

when she didn’t understand what chenle was trying to communicate to her, he said you name (your felt your heart do a triple flip where is was beating sporadically in your throat), and asked where you had went

she replied “college applications!” and he pouted, suddenly blinded by flash as the fansites around him tried to capture the moment

“tell her to come back soon!” he said, and turned back around

you rewatched the video at least 20 more times to prove to yourself that it wasn’t fake

this sudden recognition and blatant affection that you were shown, was pretty much unheard of, and not only did you know that, but the whole of twitter knew it too

before you could even like the video, your whole account was filled with  messages from delusional stans either convinced you were dating and sending well-wishes, or threats to stay away from chenle indefinitely from slightly less sympathetic fans.

to be honest, you didn't know which reaction was worse

after all, though it was certainly blush-inducing, it wasn't anywhere close to a love confession, wasn't everyone overreacting slightly?

you sighed, turning off your phone. right now was an important time of your life. though there was still a significant amount of people telling other to back off, and simply being happy you had received such high praise from chenle, the last thing that you needed was your phone pinging all day with messages from everyone else, demanding some sort of explanation about the video from you, when you knew the exact same amount of information that they did.

the next day, you texted the jaemin fansite to tell her you'd be staying off of social media for a while. you deleted all your apps. you had decided to ride out this ‘scandal’ until you were at least done with your application, and you had to admit, not having the pressure of everyone scrutinising your every move was quite liberating

though the rest of the year was actually a lot of fun, and you ended up spending a lot more time pursuing things you didn't have time to previously, and spending time with friends,,,,

there was always that small ache you felt whoever your friend texted you saying chenle had asked about you again, or seeing a billboard of his face in the city, hearing an nct song playing in a café, reminding you of the lifestyle that had consumed you just months previously,,, that you missed more than anything,,,,,,, the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about,,

you tried to push the feeling down, reasoning that there was no way chenle was as bothered as you were about the separation, & carried on with your life, no matter how awful you felt at times

of course, the school year did have to end at some point, though. after what felt like years, your college decisions came back!!! you were so glad that your hard work had paid off!!!! (of course you got in to your dream school what kind of au would this be if u didn’t lol)

your friends wanted to take you out to celebrate, but you declined politely, knowing exactly where you were going

nct dream had just had a comeback, and your jaemin fansite friend had won you an extra ticket to their fansign “just in case,” since she know you were about to finish your schoolwork

you missed chenle too much to stay away from him much longer, no matter how stupid you knew your feelings were

let me tell you,,,,, the moment you walked into the hall, the tension in the fansign literally hit the roof

you practically ran into your seat, ducking behind your camera lens, trying to capture chenle without actually having to make eye contact with him

everyone was whispering about your sudden return after months of silence on social media,, you caught some people trying to take photos of you sneakily

the dreamies noticed your presence too, of course

haechan caught sight of you first, and nudged chenle, who was standing next to him, pointing him in your direction

the whole room literally squealed at the way chenles entire face lit up at the familiar sight of your camera

& you,,, well you were just glad your face was covered because hOly hECk you were blushing,,, you tried to keep your face hidden, until you had to go up to get him to sign your album

when you left your seat, the whole room collectively held their breath, like im not even kidding, there had been so much speculation over whether or not you had left the fandom over the controversy, so your sudden unexpected return to the fansign was a huge

now of course chenle was the last in the line, so you had to deal with the rest of the dreamies teasing beforehand, while they signed your album. though you were friendly with them, and they knew your name of course,

however whoever you had talked it had always been sweet and innocent,, they had never made you so,,,,,, uncomfortable before

even jeno, the shyest of the lot gave you a knowing smirk when he said “welcome back!”

jisung told you he couldn’t draw a heart, otherwise chenle might get jealous, and mark just gave you a cryptic look.

“chenle’s been pretty worried about you.... don't break his heart.”

you kind of just laughed awkwardly, and moved down the queue to jaemin. there was no way that he was being serious. nct dream were acting weird around you

you tried to quell the nerves in your stomach when you finally faced chenle

“hi!” you managed

“i missed you!!!! don’t ever leave me for so long again!” chenle pouted, skipping the formalities of small talk. you tried not to giggle like a twelve-year-old

“i'm sorry, chenle, i had college-”

“applications!” he finished “how did they go? have you heard? did you get in? you wanted to go to the arts one in daegu, right?”

you blinked, surprised he remembered such a small detail about your life. you could barely remember telling him about it. “um, ye-yeah! i did!”

“woooaaah!” he cheered loudly, “i always knew you were smart!!” taking your hand in his, he waved them together in the air. you could hear gasps and clicks behind you

“this is gonna be all over twitter tomorrow, you know, chenle.” you blushed, gently trying to extract your hand in order to make sure he was comfortable

chenle simply tightened his grip on your intertwined fingers, pulling them closer to his face, as he leaned his head against them. “they seem to like us together, don't they?” he agreed. you let out a little gasp in spite of yourself, cheeks extremely flushed.

“i don't mind...” he continued, “unless you do?”

you shook your head slightly, not trusting yourself to speak. chenle had always been flirty with you, the same way he was flirty with all the other fans he met, but this behaviour was a huge step up from what you had experienced beforehand. your brain started working overtime, putting pieces together at 100 miles an hour

the weird faces, the asking about you, the trivial facts he remembered,, was is possible,,, chenle also-

“miss? your time is up” a manager started trying to hurry you along, as there were already two or three people queuing behind you. “wait!” chenle said, finishing his signature in your album, scribbling furiously

he then looked up at you, offering the pinky finger of his free hand up with a solemn expression

“promise you won't run away again?”

you joined your fingers with his, unable to do anything but nod at his forward behaviour

“you gotta promise!!”

“i promise!” you half whispered

chenle pressed a small, chaste kiss on your fingers

it was so fast that it could've been mistaken for him simply waving your hands together

however you and chenle, with matching blushing faces knew exactly what the gesture had meant

the rest of the afternoon, you tried to ignore how the butterflies in your stomach had suddenly morphed into huge stallions, kicking up all of your emotions all over the place

it certainly didn’t help that he kept looking over at you. winks, hearts, kisses, pouts were all thrown your way

and of course, from time to time, he would go to your side of the auditorium, lean close into your huge camera lens, and make a horribly ugly face

every time he did, you found your heart swelling just a little more, because you knew, you knew

that those faces had always been for you

& when you got home, and read the message chenle had left in your album, a small paragraph simply stating he thought you were “seriously, like ridiculously beautiful,” you knew that he hadn’t written a series of digits underneath his signature for anyone else

you finally understood, that everything had always been just for you

[fireflysummers]

Just Fiction (and When It’s Not)

I’ve been tying myself in mental knots for the last while about the “It’s Just Fiction” argument. At this point I’ve heard a lot from both sides that’s actually pretty valid, leading to a lot of general confusion. 

The conclusion that I’ve come to, though, is that “It’s Just Fiction” is not a universal defense, and its meaning shifts drastically when it’s shifted out of the originally intended lens.

I propose that there are three lenses through which the “It’s Just Fiction” argument can be viewed: in-universe, authorial intent, and public interpretation.

Before jumping into the analysis, I should note that there are a few assumptions here:

The fiction in question is actually fiction, and does not resemble any real life persons, living or dead in an identifiable capacity. Therefore, things like the Ted Bundy Case Files are immediately disqualified.

We are assuming innocence until proven guilty.

The In-Universe Lens

The “It’s Just Fiction” defense is most often applied to in-universe logic, and is related to the suspension of disbelief--the mechanism by which we can ignore our comparisons to the real world and immerse ourselves in a fantasy.

When you say "It's Just Fiction" about in-universe logic, it understands very clearly that fiction is fake, and that the characters and events do not exist in the real world. It may echo real life, and real people might to replicate it, but no matter how dark or gross or fluffy or fantastical the content, no matter how gritty and “realistic” it is, it is not real. 

Arguing that "It’s Just Fiction" is basically stating that you understand how to separate reality from fantasy, and treat characters and in-canon logic as the mechanisms by which an interesting story is told. While they may feel real, especially if you have a special connection with them, they fundamentally are not. 

As a result, content creators are generally allowed to use it as space to explore taboo topics and search for relationships and meaning in places that no sane person would enact in real life. 

However, this is not free reign to create whatever you want, and expect no consequences, as we will get to in our next point.

Authorial Intent

As stated earlier, the general assumption here is that the content creator did not intentionally have ill will towards anybody. Unfortunately, there have been too many case where this has proven to be bad faith. As a result, how to approach this aspect of the “It’s Just Fiction” argument is very difficult and controversial, because sometimes it is very difficult to “prove,” especially since the creative process is often multi-faceted as content creators draw from multiple inspirational and motivational sources. 

Oftentimes, content creators are young, ignorant, and lacking self-awareness. This leads to them not knowing how to take critique, especially if they are approached in a harsh, critical manner, and generally only alienates them in a way that stifles their desire to learn and grow naturally. It is generally not your job to educate strangers on the internet, either, since there are often trolls who disguise actual ill intent as ignorance.

The most surefire way to address this is to curate your own internet experience by blocking liberally those whose content you do not wish to see.

There is another case, though, that needs to be discussed: that of predatory content creators. These people usually straddle the line between “a distasteful lack of mindfulness” and “preying on vulnerable populations.” 

Accusations of ped/o/phil/ia against any individual are serious, and in process you have to consider a personal history of predatory behavior, rather than applying a blanket "if it's dark and taboo topics, then it automatically implicates the author as a pervert.”

You can usually identify these individuals based on the content’s tone and approach--that they aren't approaching a taboo topic for the sake of literary exploration, but because they are self-inserting themselves. There are heavy implications about people who  self-insert into that sort of fiction, such as people who write or draw cartoon character CP, and you can usually tell on a case-by-case basis whether or not somebody is hiding a gross perversion behind "It’s Just Fiction.”

Public Interpretation

Public interpretation is usually where the “It’s Just Fiction” argument breaks down entirely, because we are no longer working directly with the work (in-universe) or the people immediately responsible for its creation (authorial intent). Public reactions are very, very real and need to be treated as such--but first, you have to consider the likelihood that a work of fiction will actually contribute to swaying that public.

The argument here is “even if the person didn’t mean any harm, that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be held responsible.” And this is another tough one, because on one hand, yes, content creators ideally should exercise mindfulness about how their work will be received and interpreted. On the other hand, the public is beyond the control of any single individual, and things can easily be taken out of context or snowball out of their control, regardless of their intent. 

So, for the sake of this particular case, we have determined that the author did not mean to cause harm, the next question is how much harm is being done. 

In other words, who exactly is the public, and how many of them are there?

For instance, a bunch of kids filming a shitty monster movie featuring sharks may have the exact same messages as Jaws (sharks are evil and need to be killed). Neither one of them intend to do real sharks any harm; however, the one that needs to be held responsible is Jaws, not the shitty indie film. 

Why? Because Jaws was a box-office success that became a cultural phenomenon. It impacted the opinions of the millions of people, leading to a sharp increase of shark hunting. 

Yeah, the indie film was equally bad in the messages it was conveying, but it just fades into obscurity without actually doing any harm. 

It’s the same spiel with fandom works. Because fandoms are insular spaces, they feel a lot bigger than they actually are. That’s why fan-content creators are not held to the same standards as mainstream content creators, because the public they actually affect is actually quite small. 

When people say “It’s Just Fiction” in relation to content that is not intended to do harm, but is controversial in content, what they’re really saying is “fandom is a small, in-bred pocket of the internet, and and because it is not written by somebody intending to cause harm and will never likely see the public eye, the damage that it does is negligible, and any energy that you put into causing an outcry over it is merely a petty waste of time.”

At which point, again, the best course of action is to just block what you don’t want to see.

Applications

This is a long read, and the basic point is to exercise your own critical thinking skills. My general rubric for what I keep versus what I block is:

Is the content actually fictional.

Is the content creator acting out of a desire to hurt others?

If the harm is unintentional, how many people are affected, and how wide-spread is the damage? 

Let’s Practice

Case 1

Person A is obsessed with a villainous character from an anime.

They know that the character is completely made up.

They have no desire to hurt other people, since this affection for a fictional character is literally just them. Their actions do not pose a threat to vulnerable groups. 

The number of people even directly aware of Person A’s special interest is pretty small, and if you’re squicked out by it they’re an easy block.

Therefore, by this rubric, “It’s Just Fiction” works just fine as an explanation for their actions.

Case 2

Person B’s fanfic reduces your favorite character to LGBT+ stereotypes. The tone of the fic, though, is fluffy and light-hearted.

Again, this is entirely fictional and all parties know it.

It’s difficult to gauge whether this was done intentionally or not; sometimes a quick chat with the author will clear things up; otherwise, the tone of the fic and the lack of mean spirit in any of their other works, so it’s probably unintentional. It’s probably safe to give the benefit of the doubt.

The general readership on the fic and the number of kudos is pretty low, which means that it’s not getting much attention anyways. It was distasteful, it made you feel gross when you read it, but overall the damage is pretty contained.

Therefore, by this rubric, “It’s Just Fiction” still generally works, because of the limited number of people even aware of the fic’s existence.

Case 3

Person C made an AU with characters aged-up from the canon, and there are some N/S/F/W scenes or jokes!

AU = fictional

This is a tricky one sometimes, because there are absolutely people who age up characters just to “legally” draw them in N/S/F/W situations. 

However, there is a difference between people who do that, and others who say, project out an entire timeline full of unique character interactions and are looking to explore the various aspects of adult life, which sometimes involves consensual sex. The authorial intent here is usually pretty easy to pick up on, because a well thought-out aged-up AU often takes a lot of mindfulness on the part of the creator.

Again, things limited to fandom spaces are by default pretty small in the public that they reach. 

“It’s Just Fiction” absolutely applies here because of the amount of work that has been put into it to create an adult version of the world and characters, and it’s clear that the intent was not to expose minors for the entertainment of perverts.

tl;dr: If you’re going to treat fandom with academic scrutiny, please apply critical thinking to situations as they come. “It’s Just Fiction” does not work as a general statement because it wasn’t originally meant to be a general statement.

[auberginesdonthavelimbs]

Phanniemay Day 10: Favourite AU

Word count: 2460

TW for extensive, though not especially graphic, discussion of an injury

Danny flew invisibly through the night sky, looking for his school group. Fortunately, one of the chaperones was carrying a very distinct umbrella, whose express purpose was to make it easy to find the group should one become separated. Unfortunately, Danny noted when he spotted the umbrella, the group was in the middle of a crowded street, surrounded by other, also crowded streets. Danny was going to need to land somewhere else to turn human, then run to catch up with the group before they got back to the hotel and realized he was missing. Based on his limited knowledge of the city layout, he had a few minutes, and maybe a bit more if Tucker could stall for him.

He flew vaguely in the direction of the hotel, scanning the ground for any unoccupied area. Even the alleys weren’t totally empty, with the occasional homeless person sleeping or hurried local taking a shortcut. Eventually, he found a small stretch that seemed good enough. He only needed a few seconds of privacy, after all. He landed and took one last look around before allowing the white rings to pass over his body, changing him back into his less conspicuous but flightless human form.

It was certainly more difficult to navigate from ground level, but Danny had taken note of the direction he needed to travel, so he took off at a brisk walk toward the end of the alley, then turned left. At the end of this alley, he would turn left into another alley, and then finally exit onto the street his hotel was on. He didn’t see anyone else as he walked, but he could hardly be blamed for that. The man that grabbed him from behind was very used to hiding in the shadows.

Danny didn’t have time to react to the hands on his shoulders before he felt the sting of teeth slicing into his neck. For a second, he was too startled to do anything at all. Then, while his conscious mind was still working to process the new situation, his instincts kicked in, and he turned intangible as he spun away from the unseen assailant. Now facing his attacker, Danny ran through his list of priorities.

One, don’t let him grab you again. That shouldn’t be too difficult, Danny thought, given that the man looked as surprised as Danny felt. He was simply standing there, eyes locked onto Danny’s but otherwise in exactly the pose he had been when he grabbed him, hands raised and curled around arms that were no longer there, head tilted down. There was blood dripping from his lips and, Danny noted with an odd detachment, fangs.

Two, make sure there isn’t anyone else around. Danny flicked his eyes to the sides and then risked one quick glance behind him. No one. By the time he turned back around, after a fraction of a second, the man in front of him had straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. His expression remained neutral as he looked Danny up and down. Danny noted with that same detachment that the man’s eyes flashed, reflecting the tiny amount of light from the distant street.

Three, stop the bleeding. Danny had two choices - either close the wound with the semi-solid ectoplasm that he sometimes used to create ropes and other malleable constructs, or remain human and rely on his limited first aid skills and even more limited first aid kit, a tiny travel version that fit inside his fanny pack alongside his wallet. The ectoplasm would be faster, but it would remove any doubt as to his half-ghost status. 

Though the vampire (the word sprang unbidden into Danny’s mind, but he saw no reason to challenge it at the moment) didn’t look like he was about to attack again, Danny recalled how quickly he could move and decided that he didn’t have time for discretion. And, anyway, the vampire had clearly already seen him go intangible, so it was probably a moot point.

Later, Danny knew, he was going to need to bandage himself properly and think of an excuse to explain the injury to his classmates and chaperones, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. Danny placed a hand on his neck and created a simple bandage, covering and sealing the wound. He noted the vampire’s raised eyebrow with satisfaction. Though he hated for anyone to learn his secret, he hoped that it would at least make the vampire think twice about attacking again.

The moment stretched on. Danny stood there, tense and ready to fight, while he and the vampire stared each other down. Well, Danny was staring down. The vampire was just … staring. He looked entirely unconcerned. Eventually, Danny got tired of waiting for something to happen.

“You can’t attack someone like that and then just stand there, man.” Danny spread his arms into a sort of half-shrug. “What are we doing? Are we fighting? Because, if not, I have places to be.” The vampire nodded slowly, but it seemed more like he was simply acknowledging the question, rather than answering in the affirmative.

While the vampire apparently considered his response, Danny took stock of the situation and noticed details that he had missed earlier. For one thing, the pain, or, rather, the lack thereof. The wound on his neck stung, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should. The vampire’s fangs had cut deep - the initial pain and the amount of blood confirmed that. But it felt more like a bad bruise than a severe puncture wound.

Danny also really looked at the vampire for the first time, seeing the person rather than just an immediate threat to his life. He had short, dark hair and lightish brown skin, and his features seemed to suggest Arabic heritage. He stood about Danny’s height, maybe an inch or two taller. But what was most striking was how young he looked. He couldn’t have been much older than 23. Indeed, he wouldn’t look out of place in Danny’s senior class.

“I didn’t come here looking for a fight,” the man said, reminding Danny that he had asked a question. Danny rolled his eyes.

“No, I suppose you were looking for an easy meal.” The vampire shrugged, unconcerned by Danny’s harsh tone.

“For what it’s worth, I wasn’t going to kill you. There’s a soporific in my saliva; you would have merely fainted, and then woken up some minutes later feeling weak and dizzy, but otherwise unharmed. Actually … hm.” He tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Danny gestured to the ectoplasmic bandage on his neck.

“Unharmed except for the holes you punched in my throat you mean.” The vampire slowly nodded again.

“Perhaps. If you were human, the wound would be healing as we speak, but, if you were human, you would also be feeling the effects of the soporific. I’m not sure.” Danny didn’t necessarily know what the word soporific meant, but he certainly didn’t feel like fainting. At least, not more so than he would expect to after losing a not insignificant amount of blood. As for the wound … he poked it experimentally. It was uncomfortable, but not painful. Dany had always healed quickly, but this was something else entirely. He knew he probably shouldn’t, but he peeled away the layer of ectoplasm, which quickly dissolved in his hand. Then he ran his fingers over the place where, a moment ago, there had been a potentially life-threatening wound. The skin was smooth, and the only indication of the severity of the injury was the tacky blood surrounding the area. Danny went intangible for a second, and the blood fell to the ground, leaving him perfectly clean and, to all appearances, uninjured.

“Interesting.” Danny had never taken his eyes off the vampire, carefully watching his face. Unfortunately, he was either very honest or very skilled at deception, because his expression betrayed nothing more than moderate curiosity. “What are you?”

“I’m nothing that you need to worry about. Now, I actually do have somewhere to be, so are we done here?” The man nodded, bowing slightly as he did, and his eyes, always fixed on Danny’s, flashed again. Danny wanted to roll his eyes at the drama of it all, but, instead, he opted for turning on his heel and walking away at a pace that suggested that, though he was in a hurry to get somewhere, he wasn’t running away. He didn’t know whether the vampire was convinced, but Danny certainly wasn’t.

The whole ordeal had taken less than a minute, and Danny was able to catch up with his class just as the front of the group was filing into the hotel lobby. He found Tucker, near the back, and fell into place beside him. Tucker glared at him.

“Dude, what the hell? What was I supposed to say if you hadn’t been here?”

“I’m sure you could have thought of something.”

“Oh, is that-”

“But,” Danny said quickly, “it doesn’t matter because I am here, so there’s nothing to be mad about. But we do need to talk.”

“About what?” Danny started speaking, but he was silenced by one of the chaperones, who was asking everyone to number-off. Everyone said their number and no one was missing, so the group was dismissed to their rooms for the night. The students were reminded, as they had been the previous night, that they were forbidden from going into any room that wasn’t theirs, and that there were common areas if they wanted to hang out with friends they weren’t rooming with. Luckily, Danny and Tucker were roommates (it hadn’t been too hard to swing as nobody else requested to room with either of them), so they walked silently up to their room. As Danny closed the door, Tucker sat down on his bed and asked,

“So? What do we need to talk about?” Danny sat on his own bed, across from Tucker.

“I don’t … I don’t really know how to say this.” Danny looked down at his hands and realized that they were clenched into fists. He opened them up and took a deep breath. “I … Vampires are real, I guess is the takeaway.”

“Vampires … like ghost vampires? That drink ectoplasm or whatever?” Danny shook his head, still looking down.

“No, Tucker, like real vampires. Like, a real vampire with fangs and cat eyes and shit attacked me, and bit me, except, apparently, he had magic healing spit or something because, obviously, the bite healed.”

“So … like Steven Universe?” Danny looked up, meeting Tucker’s curious gaze with a bewildered one.

“No, Tucker, it’s not like … You need to focus, dude.”  

“Right.”

“I was bitten by a vampire. Vampires are real!” Danny covered his mouth. Hopefully, no one had heard that. More quietly, he added, “what the hell am I supposed to do with that information? How is that even … How can there be vampires and I’ve never heard about it?” Tucker shrugged.

“Well, you’ve barely been out of Amity, aside from some family trips to the middle of nowhere and Vlad’s place in Wisconsin. So, if vampires can only survive in big cities, it kind of makes sense that you never would have met one before. Unless …” He scratched his chin. “You don’t think Vlad is a vampire, do you?” Danny was getting frustrated, but he managed to keep his voice down to a sort of whispered shout.

“No, I don’t think Vlad is a vampire, Tucker. That doesn’t even make sense. Vlad is half-ghost; how could he have a ghost if he was a vampire? Vampires don’t have souls.” Tucker leaned back on his hands, and he somehow managed to make the action seem sarcastic.

“Huh. You went from not knowing vampires existed to a veritable vampire expert pretty fast.” Danny threw his hands out and gave Tucker a look of sheer bafflement. Tucker leaned forward again and raised his hands placatingly. “Look, I’m not saying Vlad is a vampire, I’m just saying we have a lot of unanswered questions, here. Like, for example, are you going to turn into a vampire?” Danny’s eyes widened.

“No, I can’t … No, no definitely not. No way.” Danny thought back to his conversation with the vampire. “He would have warned me, right? He would have told me if I was going to turn into a vampire. He wouldn’t have just let me walk away.”

“Didn’t realize you were on speaking terms with the guy. What was his name?” Danny shook his head.

“I didn’t get his name, and I didn’t give him mine. But we talked for a second, and then he let me leave. It would be wildly irresponsible of him to do that if he thought I was going to turn. So, I’m probably fine.”

“Fair enough, but we should probably still keep an eye on it. And don’t eat any garlic for a while just in case.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Sure, thing, Tuck. And I’ll watch out for holy water and poppy seeds while I’m at it.”

“I’m just saying it couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, well … yeah. I guess so. Look, I’m tired, can we turn out the lights? And you can just play on your phone or whatever until you wanna go to sleep?” Tucker nodded, now looking concerned. Danny rubbed his eyes. He wondered if the soporific was working after all, or if he was just exhausted because of what he’d been through. After a moment he decided that it didn’t matter. He started changing into his pajamas.

“Hey, man …” Danny turned. “Are you okay?” Danny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Was he ok? He was exhausted, and confused, and more scared than he was letting on. But he felt physically fine, just a bit weak, as the vampire had suggested he might. And he knew that, emotionally, he was still feeling the acute effects of the extremely stressful situation he’d just been in, and the potentially life-changing revelation about the nature of the world. He was sure that he would feel better in the morning.

“I’m fine, Tuck. I just need to sleep.” Danny finished getting ready for bed then crawled under the covers, switching his lamp off as he did. Tucker, now sitting partially under the covers of his own bed, looked over at Danny with that same concern.

“Seriously, Tuck, I’m okay. I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” Tucker nodded and turned off his own lamp, leaving the room in darkness except for the dim bluish glow of Tucker’s phone screen. Danny rolled over, closed his eyes, and tried not to think.

[okimargarvez]

NUMBER 13

Original title: Numero 13.

Prompt: Luke and Penelope going to a speed dating event.

Warning: O.C.

Genre: funny, comedy, romantic.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, various females and males O.C.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 45 in Garvez collection. 

Legend: 💏😘🎵.

Song mentioned: Rosso relativo, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

NUMBER 13

Las ganas palpitaban, tronaban... cantaban... chillaban... en plena noche en el pecho de... Paola... oh... Paola...

She is sitting at the last table of the room. From there she has a good view of the whole space, decorated in a rather cheap way, certainly not according to her tastes. It's the first time she experiences something like this. She passes her fingers through the thick red hair. Contact lenses have already started to bother her. Why was she dressed like this? Why not show up in one of her usual low-cut dresses? She sighs as the man walks towards her and sits down in front of her. It's nice enough, tall, not too muscular, black hair and brown eyes. On the card it is written Nathan.

-Hey.- she must resist the temptation to stand up. She limits herself to an embarrassed smile.

-Hey.- he says. -Are you nervous?- he asks her then, but with a sympathetic tone.

-Enough.- she shrugs. Pretending to look at her name, he also gave a good look at everything else. She struggles not to wonder what he has thought at first sight about her.

-First time, right?- she nods, then chuckles, her cheeks more and more the same shade of hair. -I've been there, it's get better, trust me .- he winks. -So... Penelope, right?- another up and down. -I see we have only a few minutes... talk to me a bit 'of you. What do you do?-

 El tedio aquella noche era enorme, llamaba, buscaba un príncipe ideal, en cambio ya era la dama del castillo.

He was about to back off, to cancel the reservation, but he finally decided to go there. He reaches the first free table and sits in front of a blonde woman. Blonde, but with short, very short hair. And as much as he strives, he can't avoid starting the comparison. Damn it, he has reduced to this just to not think of her, and it's enough a little thing to send everything to hell.

-Hey.- he sketch a shy smile. It is written on his face that this is his first time. She looks at him carefully, before greeting him with her hand.

-Hey, I'm Marissa.-

 El tuyo es rojo relativo, no se mancha de amor y por eso canta muy dentro de ti, por tu gran soledad y porque...

When the bell finally rings, Penelope gives a sigh of relief a bit too accentuated. Poor Nathan, he had been very nice and fine, but when chemistry is missing, it can't be invented, and at the most they could become good friends. And it was clear that neither was looking for this.

-Can I sit?- a deep, baritone voice that reminds her about Walker, makes her jump. She raises her head suddenly and falls in two green eyes, a green rich in shades, which dazzles her for a few seconds. The man is not irritated by the precious wasted time, on the contrary, gives her a much warmer smile than the number 4.

Welcome, number 5. She hastens to regain possession of her mental and motor skills. -Yes, yes, sorry, I was... a little distracted.- the embarrassment hasn't passed at all, but it's only the second man she meets. The evening is still long.

-No problem. Nice to meet you, I'm Jared.- she holds out her hand but instead of squeezing it into his, he prefers to take it to his lips, posing an old-time kiss.

-Penelope.- looking at him she can't help but wonder why he is in a place like this. It's possible that he couldn't find someone decent in the real world?

-Yes, Penelope, I think I've already seen you somewhere. It's possible? Are you an actress or a model by chance?- he asks after a few moments. She can't help but burst out laughing.

-Me, a model, me?- he doesn't seem to understand her perplexity and this flatters her. Not everyone therefore appreciates only the skinny girls. -No, I work for the feds. I'm a computer technician.- she adds after a brief pause.

-FBI? Wow.- while he searches for words, Penelope understands what in this man had immediately attracted her and at the same time rejected: he looks very much like Battle, has his own look. She shudders, but decides to ignore those feelings and focuses on what he is saying.

 Venga... ámate mucho esta noche y mañana vuelve a ser quien no se divierte porque buscas algo más fácil de hacer.

He didn't have time to sit down that the woman, Amber, number 9, started to stun him with words. Luke can't even say his name, and this allows him to continue with his own reflections, which certainly don't concern this unknown, as well as the previous one. Even Amber is definitely pretty, she has everything a man could want, as for the physical aspect, but her voice is petulant, annoying, certainly not as sweet as that of...

Damn it, Luke, you can't keep this up. You don't have to think about her. What did you answer to Phil when he asked if there was something between your colleague and you? No, what you think! And how did he repay you? He sent you here. As if I hadn't seen the way he looked at her, and I didn't understand that he wanted to make sure he had a free field...

-...and then there was this unpleasant shop assistant who told me...- the sound of the little bell forces her to block the monologue and at the same time wakes up Luke.

 La timidez salía pero huía, escapaba de noche... se diluía. En los ojos de... Paola... oh... Paola.

A few meters away, that same noise is received with great regret. Jared lingers, already standing, stealing seconds from the next stranger. -I shouldn't say it, it's almost against the rules, but... I hope you will send positive feedback too.- he whispers slightly, gives her a wink and Penelope is still smiling, when a blond man, number 6, Carl, sits in front of her with a snort.

 Jugaba al escondite, se escondía, y mostraba, buscaba sus cazadores, y en cambio ya era la presa de ese bosque.

-Hello, number 13. We have little time, so... talk to me about you.- Luke sighs, feeling almost (almost) the lack of Amber.

-What do you want to know?- he tries one of his best smiles, but it comes out badly.

-Everything.- answers the woman, who is called Silvia, according to her card, and that seems little interested in the names. -It's clear that you've never been in a place like that, and that you're not that type, so... I want to go right to the point. What is the rip-off in you? Problematic children? Are you a serial killer?- the question rips from him a sincere laugh, in spite of himself.

-No, but I work with them, you could say...- she is more and more confused, so he has to clarify. -I'm a profiler, I work for the FBI, department of behavioral analysis...- he explains, and the woman lights up, finally managing to understand.

-Ok, then I understood what is your problem. Timing shits.-

 El tuyo es rojo relativo, no se mancha de amor y por eso canta muy dentro de ti, por tu gran soledad y porque...

Penelope realizes that about every fifteen seconds she looks at the clock, perhaps hoping to make the hands run faster, but the trick doesn't work, unfortunately. The number 7 is slightly late, and she doesn't mind. -Walter.- he says, in no uncertain terms. Even when he is seated, she understands that he is much shorter than she is, thin, and has red hair. This particular makes her want to laugh, and it is very difficult to keep everything inside.

-Penelope.- she answers, almost sobbing.

-Well, Penelope, are you busy at the end of this thing?- even the nuances of his voice are strange, there is something... disturbing, in the negative sense.

-What, excuse me?-she hopes she misunderstood. Now that she looks at him better, he has a lascivious look. She takes another look at the clock. She must hold on last another minute and a half...

 Venga... ámate mucho esta noche y mañana vuelve a ser quien no se divierte porque buscas algo más fácil de hacer.

A few feet away, Luke is doing much better. The number 11 is much nicer, friendlier than the previous ones, she is neither chatty nor too taciturn. And it's even pretty, but... but it's not her, and it can't be. Michelle is blonde, and even wears glasses bigger than her. Her voice is pleasant, not too acute, nor low. She likes animals, and she was happy when they ended up talking about Roxy and her Merle.

That's why he almost feels sorry when the bell rings again. He has to meet many women and doesn't know how to get by. Phil will have to listen to him, it's sure.

 Y no descansas ya, solos pantalla y tú (das tanta pena), teclado y alma…

And here, the number 8 is approaching. He is the fifth man she meets, and she almost starts to hope that Emily calls with a new case that forces her to drop the kit and caboodle, because this experience is not as if she thought. Jared aside, but even he is not enough to positively balance the evening.

-Hey, I'm Simon.- she shakes his hand and smiles, but now knowns that her face is responding automatically, without sincerity, and especially without involved the heart.

-Nice to meet you, I'm Penelope.- she is sure that after that sexual maniac, that hoped to conclude already at the end of the meeting, and that probably has done and will continue to make the same proposal to all women present... well, sure Simon- number 8 can't be worse.

-My pleasure, Penelope. It's a nice name, yours, and I'm not saying it just because it is assumed that I have to try to impress you at any cost...- it starts well, and like Jared, he winks at her with the right dose of malice, not too much. -But because I'm a professor of Greek literature.-

 ...qué demuestro así con esto... muchas formas hay de sexo.

-Hello, I'm... my name is Carol.- the mysterious woman sitting at table 13, i.e. the one that carries the same number of him, is tiny, with brown hair up to shoulder length, two big blue eyes and red cheeks for embarrassment .

-I'm Luke.- he smiles at her, because he feels immediately softened. -It's the first time for you, is not it?- she nods. -I don't know how you went for now, but with me there is not to be anxious. Do you like animals?-

 Las ganas palpitaban, tronaban... cantaban... chillaban... en plena noche en el pecho de... Paola... oh... Paola...

Mister 9 has some clearly exotic features, but she can't locate him geographically. -Hey, Penelope.- the hair is dark, curly and slightly longer than... of the standard. The eyes of the color of the sky when it is cloudy, and he has amber skin. -My name is Maurice.- he says. -Sorry if I'm so outspoken but..- Penelope already worries, fearing to repeat the situation experienced with the number 7. -You already found someone interesting, tonight? - he asks only her. She sighs in relief and the man looks at her strangely. Probably now he thinks it's her, the crazy one.

-Yes, in fact...- she shrugs, while she sees those sea-green eyes. Oh oh, it seems like a principle of crush. She didn't believe it was possible. -Something like that.- the expression hopeful of him goes out like a private fire of the oxygen that is necessary to make it burn. -And you?- she asks, even though she already senses the response.

-No.- he answers. She wonders if Jared will have met some other interesting woman, that will struck him more than she... and she also feels a tiny pin of jealousy.

-Oh, I... I'm sorry.- she's forced not to look at her watch.

-It's not your fault.- he says, still in the same firm and decisive tone. Even though she is not a profiler like her coworkers, Penelope understands that he must be a straightforward man who saying anything directly. -What do you look at most in a man?- he asks after a few seconds of embarrassment.

The first thing she sees as she thinks about her answer is a memory, a short skit with a man who is not Jared-number 5 at all. -You might think I'm a liar, but... The sympathy, in short, if he makes me laugh, we are halfway there.- Jared also made her laugh, and a lot, in those very few minutes they had available. So why had she had to think about him? Why can't she drive off the harmonious sound of his laugh of her ears? Still, it went so well, until now. She managed to put him aside, she didn't even compare every male being with him... why give in now?

-A beautiful answer, really.- Maurice says, and she just nods, distracted.

 El tedio aquella noche era enorme, llamaba, buscaba un príncipe ideal, en cambio ya era la dama del castillo.

As he walks between the tables 13 and 14, Luke glances at the rest of the room and his eyes end up attracted towards the back, one of the last places, where a red, curvy woman is sitting, whose face is however covered by a man. He doesn't almost have time to sit down, that the woman, brown hair with a few pink and blue strands, shoots him the first question. -Hey, when was the last time you did it?- it's not just a matter of ingenuity, he doesn't really get there.

-What?- indeed, he asks, without even frowning eyebrows.

-Sex, what else?- he is not in church, nor in catechism lession, but he feels the consequences of twelve years of Catholic school, and a speech so shameless on the mouth of a stranger upsets him. -If you're here...- the girl continues, another that seems to have clear ideas and above all total disregard for their names.

He tries to collect all the little calm that has remained in him. He will make Phil pay, yes. -Listen to me, Stephanie, right?- the woman doesn't nod. -I'm not here for this.- he explains. -If you really want to know, my best friend sent me here. It's a sort of bet.- he hopes in this way of getting rid of it.

-Hey, don't overheat.- it seems that she is the one upset. -It's not so embarrassing.- she adds, moving her hand on the table, directed towards the male one. Then she paints a beautiful, comprehensive expression on her face. -You're a virgin, are not you?-

 El tuyo es rojo relativo, no se mancha de amor y por eso canta muy dentro de ti, por tu gran soledad y porque...

Howard, is written on the card. And indeed, he also resembles to one of the astrophysical protagonists of The Big Ban Theory. Penelope is tired, and the worst thing is that this is only to number 10, which means that there is still more than half men to meet. If she wasn't ashamed, she would stand up and give up everything. But they could remove her card, and she might miss the chance to see Jared again...

-Are you listening to me?- telling him the truth it wouldn't be nice, but at this point, she doesn't even have the strength to pretend.

-No, I'm sorry, but... Has anybody ever told you that you look like the actor of a TV series?- the man takes the statement as a compliment, the offense passes completely and he starts talking again, by allowing Penelope to think freely. She just has to nod occasionally for another minute and a half.

 Venga... ámate mucho esta noche y mañana vuelve a ser quien no se divierte porque buscas algo más fácil de hacer.

-Deborah, right?- this time it's him, the one who just sat down and starts talking, even before introducing himself. Also because, after the first three times, saying "Hi, I'm Luke and I'm a federal agent" has become as painful as talking about weather conditions. -Sorry frankness, but I just had a conversation...- he sees the brunette woman frown. -... uncomfortable, so I prefer to be clear.- she is silent, letting him finish. -I don't know why you're here, but as far as I'm concerned, I don't expect to necessarily meet my soul mate, nor a possible one-night stand story.- he must have been a little too brusque, and he'd like to apologize, but in fact , it's not that he really cares about it. He needs time to meditate on his revenge against Phil.

Deborah, after a few moments, bursts out laughing. -Wow, it was really bad, that chat, it's not?-

 El tuyo es rojo relativo, no se mancha de amor y por eso canta muy dentro de ti, por tu gran soledad y porque...

The number 11 is dark, short hair, slightly curls, dark eyes, tall, muscly but not too jock. I look slightly Latin. But it must be the fault of contact lenses. She doesn't know how she has endured them until now, because she feels them dry on the pupil, and everything is very out of focus. Still, he resembles him. -Hello, I'm Lucas.- the man begins, unaware. Fortunately, she hasn't yet used her coupon for an alcoholic drink, otherwise she would have spit it over the handsome amaranth shirt of the unfortunate poor guy.

-Wh... What?- she manages to chock with her saliva anyway. She tries to look at him better, but she doesn't change her mind. It looks like him, it's unequivocal. And the name... is almost identical. It must be a twist of the fate. She is tempted to get up and really let it all go to the hell. Too bad for Jared and for the beautiful blond children with green eyes that could arise from their union.

-Lucas.- reiterates the other, confused. -Why?- then, he seems to have an illumination. -Don't tell me that you have an ex that is called so.- the idea that he can be considered as one of her ex, boyfriend, husband, lover... makes her want to laugh.

-No, no- she is quick to deny, a bit too vehement. -And anyway... No, his name is Luke.- she has to say, to exorcise it, to prove to herself that it is only a harmless crush, that it is not true that she is thinking about him uninterruptedly, since he chose her for bring the dog to his friend Phil... he chose her instead of Matt, JJ or Tara, must mean something, right? She notices that he is staring at her. -But it's just a colleague, at most a friend.- she says, trying to sound convinced, but she's not very good.

-Are you sure?- Lucas asks her.

-Yes.-

 Venga... ámate mucho esta noche y mañana vuelve a ser quien no se divierte porque buscas algo más fácil de hacer.

Patricia. With the number 16, it can be said that he is almost half the battle. The idea that he has to meet eleven women yet is inconceivable. Should not it be any man's dream? All those women, brunette, redheads, dark, blondes, all this variety ... and he wants nothing more than to lock himself in the house with the only girl in his life, Roxy, put on pajamas and... and dream her, the unattainable.

In every woman he found a piece of her, willy-nilly. Some were blond, some wore glasses, or the voice was very similar, full of sweet nuances, or even the love for animals... but none was like her. Not even Michelle, the nicest, the prettiest and the most normal, the one he almost displeased to greet. Even while he was talking to her, he doesn't stopped thinking about his obsession.

 El tuyo es rojo relativo...

In the American world, the number assigned to him, the 13th, is considered to be the bearer of bad luck. He was never a superstitious type, too rational to fall into such a thing, and not even the Catholic influence had an impact to his opinion about the existence of bad luck. But he knows, by pure chance, because he must have read it somewhere, that in Europe, the number of bad luck is another. The 17th. And at the table 17 is the redhead who caught his attention a few minutes ago. The closer he gets, the more he feels to have already seen her...

-Penelope!- she doesn't wear glasses, is not blonde, is not wear a low-cut dress. But it is her. His soul had recognized her before his eyes, and this is very serious. -The red suits you.- but she ignores the compliment, if this was it, and her eyes get to pop up so much that he wonders how they haven't bounced on the table, as happens in cartoons.

-Luke!- a strangled cry comes out her mouth. So she blushes, clearly embarrassed that he, just him, has seen her like that, in such an environment. But the feeling is mutual.

-What are you doing here?- In fact, they end up saying the same thing, and this increases the embarrassment even more. -You talk first.- Luke finally says, as a real gentleman.

-I...- now that she has the floor, she doesn't know what she meant anymore, and above all she is aware of the fast flowing time, and she imagines it like grains of sand falling from one side of the hourglass to the other. -A friend of mine recommended it.- she says. And she is lucky, because man falls for it.

-Me too... Phil talked to me about this.- after the first few seconds of total displacement he seems to have recovered well. Penelope is like his island in the middle of the stormy sea, a safe oasis in the desert... even if it is a wild card and causes to him anxiety and worries, she is still a person who he has known for a while, which he trusts... actually, he would be willing to put his life in her hands. Fuck.

-Your friend Phil?- she asks him, starting to smile, amused. -Really?- but she doesn't wait for confirmation, bursts out laughing. Uh, how he missed this music. He is that bad? She's laughing at him, she's teasing him, she's enjoying the situation a lot, and he keeps thinking her so beautiful, so fantastic and ... and he doesn't care if she's dyed her hair or it's just a wig.

-What's so funny?- he tries to seem offended, but it doesn't last even three seconds. Her attempts to curb her laughter make him want to smile, join her, kidnap her in a kiss, and not necessarily in this order.

-Nothing.- she takes a deep breath, taking possession of herself again. -So, what should we do?- she asks, fiddling with a lock of hair and often looking away. -We pretend not to know each other? Let's talk about the weather?- Luke shakes his head, extremely determined, even if unaware of it.

-No.- he also says, the tone deep and safe. -Once you said you don't believe in destiny or even coincidences.- he points out, leaning a little with the bust towards her, and unlike her, never taking his eyes from her. He was never good at not staring her. Let alone them in this place, where he is authorized. Where he is encouraged to flirt with her. -But according to you, it's just a coincidence that we met here tonight?- Penelope seems to think seriously about his question.

But she ends up doing one of her jokes. -Unless you didn't follow me...- Luke doesn't want to laugh. He sighs, and pierces her with another look.

-You're joking, are not you?- she shrugs and looks toward the clock.

-Well, you still have... Two minutes, Mister Number 13.- the fact that she calls him that way gives him another shake, the definitive one. The numbers 13 and 17 continue to bounce before his eyes. The thought that after him there may be other men, that there have already been 9 others before him, that even outside, in the real world, is full of people who can, have the right to hit on her, and all because he is a jerk who doesn't knows what to do...

-You intend to continue this... This thing?- he was about to call it farce, but he would insult himself, because he could say no too. He could refuse. Phil didn't point a gun at his head. And she? Why she goes to a place like that? Does she really need a speed date to find a decent man? What happened to the Canadian boyfriend, the one who taught her the fingering techniques for the clarinet? He has too many questions to ask, and too little time.

-Why not?- she answers with another question. -How do I know, if I don't try? - the voice cracks, becomes extremely serious, and for the first time she keeps her eyes fixed in his. -The number 14 could be the love of my life.- and he can't contradict her, can't be sure that she is not right, but he can't even lose her for a speed date. As much as he tries not to have preconceptions, he keeps thinking that this whole thing is really ridiculous.

-Or maybe it could be the person in front of you right now.- it escapes him. But he doesn't regret it. Penelope, for her part, decides to believe it is a joke. She takes the easy road.

She looks to the right, then left, behind him and even under the table. -Mmm, I don't see anyone...- Luke, however, has completely exhausted everything: patience, cowardice, self-control. He stands up, quite abruptly, quickly he comes around the table and takes her by the hand, dragging her away just in the moment when that sound, which he will probably hear tonight again and again (if he will not be too busy in other activities), begins to trill, making them understand that their time has expired.

-Luke, are you crazy?!- Penelope doesn't shout, but only because she doesn't want to draw attention to them, or at least doesn't make the situation worse. -Leave me!- they pass in front of the number 14, which, poor devil, will remain high and dry. -What the hell do you want to do?- she tries to free herself from his grip, but there's no way. He leaves her only when they are out, in the cool (and cold) air of the evening.

-Speak, as normal people.- he replies, perfectly serious, as if he hadn't just recently made an act against the regulation, and it was really embarrassing.

The humidity is such that she can't own it anymore. -But what? - she asks, while digging in the bag looking for the box where she throws the contact lenses, promising to herself that she will not wear them anymore, returning to her trusted glasses. This change should make Luke a little faint, especially when she puts her hands in her hair and rips them off... and then he realizes that it wasn't true that he didn't care, he adores her blonde hair, even if, before meeting her, it wasn't his kind of ideal woman.

-Did you know anyone interesting?- he asks her, hoping the answer was a no, and feeling like shit for having hoped for something so selfish.

-You are not the first that ask me this, tonight. And the answer, even if it doesn't concern you, is yes.- she sees him clench his hands into fists. -The number 5 was very nice, kind and smart. He told me he would like to see me again and... I think I will accept his invitation.- he doesn't know if she said it to shake him, to make him jealous or because she really thinks it. But she doesn't have much time to think about it, because he takes her by the wrist and pushes her against his body, while with the other hand he holds her by the neck and... kisses her. Not a chaste kiss, sweet, tender, but ravenous, greedy. After a few seconds, in fact, their tongues start to struggle. While remaining displaced, she kisses him back, because it is all too overwhelming and even seems unreal.

-Why the hell did you do it?- she asks, thinking of playing angry, indignant, upset, but it just seems... deeply scared. He hasn't moved away his right hand from her neck and continues to keep her close. This alone would be enough to confuse her definitively.

-Because it was easier than trying to convince you with thousand words.- he simply answers, moving just a thumb up and down, between the skin and the hairline.

It is clear that Penelope is struggling to find a possible alternative, but it is not there. -To convince me of? - the voice still trembles, and she hates it. Even the legs are not put better, and if he would let her go, she would probably end up on her knees or with her ass on the ground. The head, then, doesn't stop turning.

-I don't believe you didn't understand it.- the other hand ends up on her neck and then climbs onto the cheek, where he lays a caress. -I'm in love with you, that's why I came here, not to spend another evening alone on the couch thinking of you.- he confesses, with a sweet tone that makes her vibrate inside. Maybe it's those blessed stomach butterflies that she's never tried before. -Phil understood it, he saw you only once and understood it.- he continue to explain them. -He asked if there was anything between us, and since I'm stupid, I said no, but he understood and sent me here hoping to have free field with you.- wait a minute, this means that she Phil also likes, she deduces. -Why did you come here?- she doesn't feel as brave as he is, but she takes a few breaths, inhaling the icy air, which enters directly into her lungs.

-For the same reason.- she shrugs. -I wanted to distract myself a little and understand... Understand how messed up I was.- she adds, and there's no need for explanations. This seems to be enough for him, in terms of words. He bends his head and this time she opens her eyes and gets up on the tips to make it easier. The second kiss is much deeper, intense than the first. She then leans on his chest as he surrounds her with his arms.

-Does that mean you will not call the number 5?- he provokes her one last time as they walk, swinging toward his car.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower

[nezzfiction]

ENMY Chapter 87 - Redeemer

Chapter Synopsis: With the threat of a Grimm army looming on the edges of Vacuo, the Kingdom faces even more adversity with Salem’s personal arrival to see the war’s end. Meanwhile, Team ENMY must develop the skills they need to combat the Witch the only way they know how. Trial by Fire.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Redeemer

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I’m sorry for the things I said before I had my coffee.

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In the lowest chamber of the lowest Tower, a figure casually immersed herself in the memories of different worlds.

Cinder breathed a long sigh after finishing the most recent recollection. The burdens of being Queen were accumulating with no way to relieve it. There was little time to rest. The only solace she could take—to her surprise—was she did not have to carry the weight of the crown alone.

“What a surprise. You’re spending your time here again,” a voice came from behind.

“Only in hopes of gaining some insightful answer to our predicament, my fellow Queen.”

At the greeting, Weiss joined Cinder’s side in watching more projections play out.

“And, have you found anything we can use?” she asked.

“Not even remotely.”

“…What should we do?”

“Vacuo may very well fall before our Fleet’s arrival.”

“And, if by some luck, it manages to get there in time, will it be enough?”

“Difficult to say.” Cinder answered evenly.

“We can’t send more of the Fleet. Vale and Mistral could start a second campaign any moment.”

“This is also true.”

Weiss couldn’t help but frown at her coregent’s indifference. It annoyed, but also put her off. The fellow Queen was usually so sure of herself, confident in her actions. It might have been the closeness they were beginning to develop, but she was able to detect the small cadence changes in Cinder’s mood. When complete indifference stuck to her tone, it usually meant the Black Queen was depressed.

And this war between Vacuo and Salem was very distressing.

“Do you think we can trust Temujin?” Weiss asked.

“Possibly.”

“We might lose a large portion of our army and a new allied Kingdom in just a week.”

“The very thought did cross my mind.”

“We have to at least, evacuate Team ENMY.”

“I find myself agreeing with that sentiment.”

“…Should we send more of our forces to Vacuo?”

Cinder finally turned to face her.

“As always, you make a good point of asking all the correct questions, while providing none of its key answers.”

“Hmph!”

The Black Queen smiled teasingly at the White.

“Salem is taking the field, according to Temujin’s spies. We can either dedicate more of our limited resources to saving a potentially lost cause, or…”

“Or we should cut our losses now,” Weiss finished shortly. The words left a sour aftertaste in her mouth.

Trapped in an endless loop of bad decisions followed by dire scenarios, a loud groan escaped her.

“If only the Bridge Project was finished!”

“Ah, yes. Our little gamechanger. Unfortunately, our dear Masa and Polendina estimate another month’s work before its completion.”

“…We should send more forces.”

“…”

“We didn’t account for Salem,” Weiss added. “Her arrival completely changed the landscape of the situation there.”

“A bold move on her part. At the same time, she knows we cannot commit too many forces to Vacuo’s cause.”

“We also didn’t have an accurate measurement of the Grimm she’s capable of gathering.”

“Any additional reinforcements sent will arrive days late.”

“We have to try.”

“We risk forsaking any chance of defeating Salem in the late game.”

“We can’t lose Vacuo.”

“I understand your noble intentions…Weiss—”

The serious use of her name, without any formalities, drove the graveness of Cinder’s tone deeper.

“—But we cannot allow our emotions to dictate judgment. I doubt Temujin would make any less of a decision were she in our position.”

The White Queen went silent for a moment.

“…Is this how we win the war, Cinder? Is this how we expect to defeat Salem? By abandoning Vacuo?”

“…”

“And may I remind you, Team ENMY would probably be even less inclined to abandon our newfound allies just to save their own lives.”

Cinder visibly tensed.

“That is a very serious problem.”

“We’ve read the reports. They’re fond of Temujin and the Kingdom’s people. Team ENMY won’t evacuate just because we order them to.”

“So, what moves do we have available to us?” Cinder held her chin in thought. “Should we deploy a second Fleet now, the fact remains they would likely never arrive in time. And there still remains the issue of Salem. What amount of forces could we possibly send to could contend with the Witch?”

“I know. We agreed, whenever the time finally came to face Salem, we could only hope to do so with you, Yang, and myself. Anything short of the Maidens would…Wait a minute—" Weiss stopped.

Her brow wrinkled with focus.

“What?”

“Someone who could match Salem AND arrive in Vacuo in time.”

Cinder stared blankly before the realization donned on her.

“I must be getting tired, if I failed to think of that myself. Do you think he will agree?”

“He has been taken a turn for the better lately.”

“Hm. Indeed, the work seems eerily suited to him. Both of them—”

“Let us offer him the role of Redeemer, then.”

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X  X X  X  X

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“My word…”

As Professor Oobleck saw the capital city of Vacuo peek just above the horizon, he also saw rippling black specks dotting the skies above it. They could only be one thing.

“Grimm! I must hurry!”

His mind raced as he turned the accelerator on the bike he was riding and tapped the clutch to switch gears. The motorcycle’s engine roared. Its large wheels kicked up a dust storm behind him.

As he closed in, he saw what was actually being attacked was a moving caravan, not the city itself. The expedition faced heavy harassment in their attempt to return home. Judging by the damages they were accruing, they would not last by the time they reached the safety of the wall.

At least, not without a little help.

As Oobleck maneuvered the bike closer, he assessed the situation more carefully. A pack of great beasts hounded the vehicles’ flanks. Grimm with the bodies of lions. They had the additional head of a ram’s and a tail in the form of a snake. A species called Crymera, classified as A-Class Grimm.

Although the four-pawed monstrosities posed their own threat, Vacuo’s warriors should have been adept at handling them. The true problem lied with the Grimm hovering above.

Oobleck set his sights to the apparitions circling the line of trucks like vultures. Bony cloaked figures with matching chains swooped up and down. The dark wraiths haunting the party were Daemontors, classified as Aberration Class.

Not only were they able to render Semblances unusable, they could only be disposed of via Aura concentrated arms or Magic. This was due to an almost complete lack of physical body. The threat they posed was usually small due to their small numbers and lack of direct harm, but coupled with the Crymera…

Oobleck watched as the caravan could only use raw Dust rounds to combat their pursuers. Without their Semblances, they would not be able to fight off the Crymera. But they needed to leave their vehicles and bring the battle close-range if they wanted to dispose of the Daemontors.

The Professor took one last glug of his thermos before collapsing it into its Torch setting.

“Yang may not be very pleased when she hears what I am about to do with her bicycle.”

He aimed his tracks for the tallest dune.

“Allons-y!”

Flying off the ramp of sand, Oobleck popped a wheelie at its very end. With an acrobatic grace, he backflipped off, and drew his Torch in a wide arc. Flames spewed from his weapon’s mouth.

“HAH!!!”

Like a professional batter’s homerun swing, Oobleck cracked the motorcycle into the cloud of Daemontors. The vehicle then, exploded with all the extravagance of fireworks. Shrapnel, reinforced by the Professor’s Aura, pierced and burned the Grimm caught in its destructive radius.

When he landed, some of the chasing Crymera broke off to focus their new prey.

“Oh, dear.”

Just then, the caravan line divided, and rounded back. The expeditioners understood what the professor did and were not ready to simply abandon him. With their Semblances unlocked, they practically leapt off their vehicles before they came to a full stop.

…

The battle was over within minutes.

“I am very grateful for your help,” Oobleck shook the hands of the party’s leader.

“We should be the ones thanking you,” the female Faunus returned the gesture. “If you didn’t take care of those Daemontors, we would’ve been done for. You’re a brave man.”

“You give me far too much credit.”

“No, you truly are a brave man. Temujin loved that bike.”

“………Pardon?”

As Professor Oobleck was guided to the city and to the Hanging Gardens, he came upon the hectic scene that was supposed to be Temujin’s throne room.

A number of officials shuffled back and forth. The great doors, which used to remain close, were now kept open. Soldiers, as well as executives, constantly filtered through its threshold.

“Ah. Good work, Professor. Nice to see you again.”

Ilia Amitola was the first to pay him any attention. With a clipboard in hand, and a number of assistants at her side, she looked every bit the government official.

“You know Temujin loved that bike, right?”

“So, I’ve heard. In my defense, I thought it belonged to Miss Xiao Long.”

“Yeah, well. You’re lucky the old lady isn’t around at the moment. I’d like to say thank you for helping our people, but first things first.”

Ilia produced a shard of Dust from her pocket, and thrust it to him.

While Oobleck obediently obliged, he couldn’t help but note the subtle movement the Chameleon Faunus paid towards the sword-whip at her waist. As a result, the dry swallow he made wasn’t solely due to downing the energy supplement.

“…Glad to know it’s really you. You can make your report to Mouse,” Ilia pitched her thumb to the throne. There, he could see the young boy sitting where Temujin once sat.

“Where is Temujin, might I ask?”

“She has her hands full with another of her selfish whims. The Rakis siblings are in charge in the meantime. And, you,” the girl turned to the expedition leader. “After you take your own Dust, you are officially being assigned to the guard unit.”

“WHAT FOR?!” the woman cried.

“Are you kidding me? You disobeyed a direct order. There were supposed to be no more expeditions until Mouse or Temujin’s say so.”

“Our city is running low on food supplies and there were still settlements on the outer reaches that weren’t completely evacuated!”

“And let’s not forget, anybody that goes outside the walls might come back as someone else. You risked more Cuckoos infiltrating the city.”

“Yes, wouldn’t want our best Huntresses and Huntsmen to kill their own people.”

The chamber paused silent at the statement.

Ilia and Mouse were struck with a temporary loss of what to do. Would they have to take the expedition leader aside? If they punished her, then and there, what kind of repercussions would they be looking at? How much farther would their morale fall?

As they contemplated, a small Knives stepped forward, and buried her fist in the expedition leader’s gut.

“Demoted. Report back to your quarters and await reassignment,” she said with a callous tone.

“Since when, *Cough!* did our Kingdom become something like this?”

“…”

“And where the hell is Temujin?!”

“Survival of the Fittest,” Ilia echoed the creed. “We have to do what we can in order to survive. The best way our people can do that is by following orders.”

“And what about Strength in Numbers?! How are we supposed to survive if we don’t have each other?!”

“…You’re right. Fine.”

“What?”

“No demotion,” Ilia said with a dead tone.

The words rung hollow in a chamber full of people. Knives was about to protest, when the Chameleon Faunus grabbed the scruff of the expedition leader’s neck, and brought her face close.

“But if I find ONE Cuckoo in the party you brought back, I swear by the Khans of Vacuo…!”

“They will be dealt with.”

Mouse was the one to answer this time. From the throne, his voice echoed with an authoritative clarity.

“She understands, Ilia. You, too, Knives. Just let it go.”

“But, Mouse—!” his sister started.

“We have enough supplies to last us until Atlas arrives. The outer settlements are now completely evacuated, so we can put that discussion to rest. I can assume no more reckless expeditions will be taken?”

The leader of the caravan nodded warily.

“We still have work to do and a war to win. We cannot be divided whenever Salem’s true attack comes.”

More silence followed the proxy king’s command. Then, one by one, the officers in the room resumed with their work. The chamber returned to its bustling environment of chaos once more.

Meanwhile, Professor Oobleck made his way before the throne.

“So—”

“Where is Temujin?”

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X  X X  X  X

.

In a world that was constantly spinning like the inside of a disco ball, eight figures were working to catch their breaths.

Their private pocket of the Never Realm never failed to warp their sense of time and placement. More often than not, they felt like they spent years within the dimension as opposed to actual days passing in the physical world. A tax heavily affecting both body and mind, if the training wasn’t already enough.

“How long is this four v. four deathmatch marathon going to go ON?!” Emerald shouted in exasperation.

“Actually, it appears our time is up,” Minerva answered.  “Our Kingdom is reaching its breaking point.”

“So, we’re ready?!” Yang banged her fists together.

“Well, you’ll have to be,” Raven scoffed.

Neo only grinned with a thin smile of playfulness.

“It is time Vacuo strikes back against the Witch,” Nai nodded.

“Finally. I always wondered what those characters felt like when I put in those infinite life cheat codes. Not what I imagined,” Mercury laid, spread-eagle on the “floor”.

“Hm…”

Temujin threw a cursory glance between her Khans and Team ENMY.

The four youths answered their expectations and then some during their hellish training. They sat around the ruined nightmare-scape exhausted. Temujin could feel their frayed nerve-endings. Their insides were practically the stuff of ragdolls. Still, a fierce light burned inside them, as well as a trace of cockiness in their sneer.

Her Khans were in similar shape. Scraped and battered from their endless matches, and it wasn’t due to any carelessness or ease on their part.

In any other situation, Temujin would have dubbed ENMY successors to the “team” that ended the Third Crusade. But she decided to keep that thought to herself.

Can’t have them getting a bigger head than they already have.

“I hereby recognize Team ENMY as Huntresses and Huntsmen officially licensed under the Vacuo Kingdom,” Temujin spoke up.

“Excuse me?” Minerva turned a stern glare towards her.

“What, I have the authority! It’s not as if you weren’t thinking the same thing, you hypocrite!”

“I was thinking they would only be granted the title once they fulfilled an actual Grimm Extermination Contract.”

“Then, we’ll just give them one!”

“Ugh!” the Headmaster rolled her eyes, and then scoffed hard into her hand.

“Team ENMY!” Temujin carried on without a care. “You are herby contracted with a Grimm Extermination Contract of the highest order! Eliminate all the Cuckoos within Vacuo’s city! Upon doing so, you will be granted the official titles of Huntresses and Huntsmen! In short, an impromptu graduation!”

In spite of the elder woman’s rousing declaration, Team ENMY could only return the gesture with an expression that communicated, “What a jip.” Though, Yang did feel a warm tingle tug at her heartstrings.

Emerald, who had grown too intimate with Temujin’s personality over their time together, simply chose to ignore her. Instead, she clapped her hands with a business-like fashion. The attention of her team concentrated on her.

“Alright, hostiles. You know how this song goes. Get some sleep—”

“Tomorrow, we commence Operation Gun Dog.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

At a certain training room within Cerberus Tower, Weiss and Cinder came upon three of the room’s occupants.

Ruby was sitting beside Masa, viewing the record of her most recent attempt to utilize her Silver Eye abilities.  Meanwhile, her Uncle regarded their sudden visitors with a suspicious look.

“Qrow Branwen,” Cinder spoke with the allure of a devil. “Or should I say, Titan?”

“…”

“Your assimilation with your host is to be allowed to complete, but in return—"

“We have an urgent mission for you.”

[allspark]

Cheers, love! The time manipulating speedster frontwoman of Blizzard Entertainment’s Overwatch has arrived in the first wave of Hasbro’s new six inch line of action figures, and now she’s blinking into the Allspark Studio!

Overwatch Ultimates Tracer

To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell you the last time I played Overwatch. While I was really big into the game when it launched, I think I can comfortably say my time with it is over. However, I think it speaks volumes about Blizzard Entertainment’s skill with crafting fun, enjoyable characters that I still found myself extremely intrigued by the proposition of Hasbro starting a new line of six inch action figures based off of the game. Though Max Factory over in Japan has already put out a handful of similarly scaled Overwatch action figures as part of their Figma line, the pricey nature of those figures for a game I’m no longer super passionate about gave me pause.

  While my tastes in non-converting action figures do typically skew more towards the Figmas and Figuarts of the world, I was still very much interested in seeing what Hasbro could do with the license. Despite my reservations based on past experiences with Marvel Legends and Star Wars Black Series, I’m very happy to report Tracer has been an extremely pleasant surprise for me!

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To give a small peak behind the curtain, I didn’t know I’d be writing a review of this figure when I purchased it. What this unfortunately means is that I didn’t know to save the packaging for photography. While I can’t illustrate this for you, I will assure you that the Overwatch Ultimates line has extremely striking packaging! A clean, white box with a matte finish features very bold strips of color on the sides, plus some very nice illustrations of the character on the front.

  What’s a little less cool in the case of Tracer, however, is that once you open her up, there is a whole lot of empty space in that tray she comes packaged in. She’s part of the same single packed, $20 range of Ultimates figures that also include bulkier characters like Lucio and Reaper, who I presume fill out those trays a bit more, so it’s not necessarily her fault that she and her accessories are on the smaller side. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit shocked when I saw just how much empty space was in her box.

Speaking of accessories, with Tracer you get her two submachine gun pistols, effect parts that give the effect of shooting them, two alternate right hands, and the time bomb she uses for her in-game ultimate. That last one is a bit sneaky, as it comes attached to her back in-package rather than laid out in the tray, so be on the look out!

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The submachine guns are very nicely detailed for their small size, as is the time bomb for that matter. While they are easy enough to fit into Tracer’s default, gun-hold-y hands, the actual grip she has on them can feel just a bit loose. Not so loose that you can’t trust that she’ll be able to hold onto them if she’s posed on your shelf, but there’s a good chance they’ll slip out or at least turn sideways if you’re changing her poses while they’re in her hands. The effect parts are similarly reliably able to stay plugged in while Tracer holds a pose, but anything more than slight jostling is likely to knock them off. By looking inside them, it seems clear that there’s very much an intended top and bottom that the muzzle flashes are supposed to plug onto the guns, but it’s a bit difficult to tell what that way is and, in my experience, they feel the same whether they’re upside down or rightside up.

  For her handswaps, Tracer has an open palmed waving hand and a little two finger salute hand, both of which are for her right hand. The hands all plug in nice and solidly and feature a wrist joint. It is kind of a shame that she doesn’t feature any alternate left hands and, as far as I can tell, I don’t believe her left hand is even removable. While the included two hands are nice, it’s a slight shame that she didn’t come with at least an open palmed left hand as well.

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When it comes to her detailing and paint work, Hasbro did a good job of picking out all of the most important notes of her character design, making sure they got the attention they needed. Her shoulders feature nice and clear tampographs of the British flag on the right and a flight patch from her piloting days on her left. Her eyes are very nice and crisply painted on beneath her (non-removable) clear yellow goggles as well as some amazingly cleanly applied pink paint on her lips. The timey-wimey, sci-fi glow of her chronal accelerator harness is picked out in an eye catching electric blue, though unfortunately only on her chest. The back part features no such blue paint, though it is still picked out in a nice, bright white and silver. Tracer’s tights feature an amazing yellow-to-orange gradient, along with another tampograph of her own name that she has written on her left thigh for some reason and grey mesh running down the sides her thigh and calf. The gradient really is something to see, though, and helps give the figure a premium feel.

  Unfortunately, there are noticeable amount of smaller details, like the belts that run under her arms and fasteners/buckles that are molded but unpainted. Her unpainted gauntlets also seem a little under-detailed compared to the in-game model. A very slight blackwash or even just a bit of panel lining would’ve really helped them pop a little more, I feel. Some paint, like the aforementioned electric blue, is a bit messily applied on my copy, though it’s only really noticeable on close inspection. There is one very egregious paint flaw on my copy though, as underneath her time bomb there is a gigantic splotch of white paint on her brown jacket. While this is thankfully hidden just by virtue of being on her back and almost being completely covered up by the bomb, it’s still not an insignificant paint error.

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When it comes to articulation, I found Tracer to be better than expected, but still very limited in some ways. Chief among those limitations was, out of the box, my Tracer’s top right knee joint was completely stuck. Stuck in such a way that I feared trying to use force on it would cause it to break. Thankfully though, I was able to remedy this by sticking her in a plastic bag and then dipping her legs in hot water for a minute or two, which loosened her knee up good. With that fixed, Tracer’s legs are remarkably posable! She’s able to assume the kind of nimble poses you’d want her to be able to pull off. In addition to thigh swivels, her knees can bend just as far back as a human knee can without looking too freaky, and her legs can spread for almost full Van Damme level splits. While her legs can move forward decently high, she lacks pretty much any sort of backwards leg movement.

  Unfortunately, as you move further up, Tracer’s articulation starts to get less impressive. While she does have an ab crunch and a balljointed upper body, her bulky gauntlets mean she has practically no elbows articulation beyond pointing down or sitting at a near 90 degree angle, though they can swivel right or left. Additionally, while her shoulders can move back and forth just fine, they have next to no outward or inward movement. While not nearly as limited as her arms, the high collar of her bomber jacket does slightly get in the way of her otherwise quite good head articulation.

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All in all, despite my not particularly high opinions of Hasbro’s previous 6″ scale offerings and some stumblings with her, I’ve ended up being rather taken by Tracer. Giving her a once over after taking her from the box, I wasn’t too sure, but as time went on (and bad knee joints were fixed) I found myself warming up to her more and more. Honestly I think she might be the best experience I’ve had with any of Hasbro’s six inch figures. From what I can tell, they’re really stepping up their game for Ultimates, and I’m excited to see what they can do with it from here. If you’re willing to perhaps risk some slightly spotty QC, I think you’ll really find a lot to love with Tracer.

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Overwatch Ultimates Tracer Gallery and Review! Cheers, love! The time manipulating speedster frontwoman of Blizzard Entertainment's Overwatch has arrived in the first wave of Hasbro's new six inch line of action figures, and now she's blinking into the Allspark Studio!

[roxyallnutt]

Reflective journalism Kolb Cycle

The Marshmallow Challenge

Experience It seems only right to reflect on a Creative Technologies experience that left me questioning and reflecting days after the exercise actually took place. “The Marshmallow Challenge is a game for learning about innovation, creativity, teams, collaboration as well as the value of early prototyping and incremental delivery”, Wujec, (2018). I believe that this task sets a good representation of the common issues and challenges faced as designers in the Creative Technologies world.

"It's a simple task", Ricardo explained as he handed each group 15 sticks of raw spaghetti, a metre of masking tape and a baby pink marshmallow. The rules that followed were simple too. Construct the tallest freestanding structure with the resources given within an 18-minute timeframe. I worked in a group of semi unfamiliar faces. Because of this, I felt I had an advantage as there was no familiarity within the group members, there were no limits for expression and ideas due to the diversity and opportunities in a new group.

Firstly, I prefer working in teams like this. As an extroverted person, I enjoy new groups where I can voice issues and options while learning from fresh faces. Within the first five minutes of the challenge, I could pick up that the group was quite diverse in terms of engagement. We were divided between the talkative, the hands-on and the quiet. Our biggest problem was agreeing on what type of base, to begin with, and then worried about the height after. As most of us had no experience in this type of exercise it took a while for us to establish a concept worth pursuing, the time pressure wavering did not help. We began with a quick sketch and small discussion. We aimed for a tripod like frame with height increasing through the middle conjoint. We began with a triangular base which was made to add stability to the tower, then added spaghetti piece after piece to the middle frame. This lead to the final few minutes when the marshmallow was placed on top. Unfortunately, our second biggest issue was the actual placement of the marshmallow. 15 minutes had already passed and our marshmallow was untouched. I guess we figured that it was light and easily manipulated so it wouldn't be an issue. The second the marshmallow was added our structure began to topple to the right. Yikes, what a near miss. In the end, we completed the challenge with a semi-standing structure which we were proud of.

Observations As the timer eventually sounded I sighed in relief. We had a standing structure, but we just knew it wasn't the tallest of the class. I looked around the room to see a coalition of strange misshaped towers, many of which were not standing. I was annoyed with myself when I looked back to our structure. We were so invested in the base footing and time pressure that we seriously lacked in the height aspect and not much support was given to our surprisingly heavy little marshmallow to stand upon.

Tom Wujec (2018), explained: “the Marshmallow is a Metaphor for the Hidden Assumptions of a Project”. The lesson in the marshmallow challenge is that we need to identify the assumptions in our project-the real customer needs, the cost of the product, the duration of the service – and test them early and often. That’s the mechanism that leads to effective innovation.” From the combination of our discussion with Ricardo and readings into Wujec's finding, I understand why this exercise has a deep connection to my studies in BCT. Through the many projects and assignments, I am yet to experience, this exercise has taught me to be wary of each aspect of any project that needs stability and recognition in order for success. Any assumptions made may be the failure point in my design ideation. This was evidently seen by the many groups including us who did not factor in our marshmallow nearly enough.  

In a later class discussion, Ricardo mentioned that "There will always be one that will sit back and take the back-foot". As mentioned before due to our team's diversity there were members that preferred to stay quiet and observe. While the challenge was highly competitive with a whole bag of lollies on the line, I wonder, if the challenge was also implemented to test a fresh team where each member needs to be equally involved. In situations like this exercise, it is very easy to become polarised by the more vocal leader, this was apparent in my group. This aspect restrains potential creativity from quieter members and lacks diversity in group involvement. Pirola‐Merlo, A., & Mann, L. (2004), this study explains how creativity in groups can be impacted by how much each person wants to contribute. I noticed that some members in my group decided to contribute their opinion only after the action was executed. For example, we used small bits of tape to bundle lots of two spaghetti stands together, it wasn't until after this was finished, a member spoke out and asked to complete bundles of 3 with more tape this time. Diversity in groups is important in the creative industries as team members are encouraged to contribute highly to avoid being one track minded by one leader.  An improvement here could have been seen if my group ideated many possible designs together with the contribution from all rather than putting all our focus into one idea.

Reflect Our discussion with Ricardo concluded with the mention of preschool students thriving in this type of challenge environment compared to a class of business students. Basically, give them the same exact conditions for this project and watch as they prototype, refine and execute outstandingly. This made sense to me, pre-schooled students are inaudibly using the creative strategies "asking questions, comparing and contrasting solutions, evaluating solutions". Zachopoulou, E., Trevlas, E., Konstadinidou, E., & Archimedes Project Research Group. (2006). It is interesting to me how as I have grown up these strategies are forgotten and now are being re-established to me in a creative degree. It makes sense for preschool students to excel in exercises like this as their ability to rework and rework is natural to them. Ricardo explained how multiple groups in my class would begin the challenge with their plan, and then follow through from there. Exactly what we did. A method used by myself and my team members daily. "Planning the implementation of a chosen goal, however, poses a problem associated with different task demands." Bayer, U. C., & Gollwitzer, P. M. (2005). We are typically engineered to consider the best way for success in these situations is too diverse a plan and execute accordingly. The greatest take away was to avoid the habit of planning a concept too early in the process and following it exactly. This completely limited our ability to make design changes, when issues arose during the challenge we did not stop and say let's try something new, we rather worked away until that aspect eventually worked for us.

Other skills that I have taken away: I am aware that there are more ways to implement problem-solving. I have also taken away second thoughts to my team contribution strategies. How a better-structured brainstorm or ideation can be facilitated to involve every member of the group rather than lead by one or two people. It is also significant for each team member to have the confidence to spot issues when ideas are going off track and voice them in a non-critical way. A combination of these lessons to take away will become useful in future projects and assignments.

If I can take any main thing away from this challenge it would be that the marshmallow is a metaphor for hidden assumptions of any given project. This is a valuable lesson and one that is sure to be the make or break motive in projects to come I'm certain. I intend to practise the awareness of the marshmallows that are hidden in creative assignments to come.

References:

Wujec, T. (2018). Applying the Marshmallow Challenge in a Research Method.

Pirola‐Merlo, A., & Mann, L. (2004). The relationship between individual creativity and team creativity: Aggregating across people and time

Bayer, U. C., & Gollwitzer, P. M. (2005). Mindset effects on information search in self‐evaluation.

Zachopoulou, E., Trevlas, E., Konstadinidou, E., & Archimedes Project Research Group. (2006). The design and implementation of a physical education program to promote children’s creativity in the early years.

[kiederen]

Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE review

I said I would give my impressions on #FE and I neglected to do so till now, but better late than never.

I’ll be talking about:

Story

Setting/Theme

Characters

Gameplay

1. Story

The story is nothing special - I enjoyed it, but it's a fairly typical jrpg "power of friendship and bonds" deal that is only made unique in any capacity by the idol culture that frames it. It's not bad, but it's not groundbreaking either. I wish the story were a bit longer to give more of a build up into the final confrontation. The earlier stages slowly start to set things up but even just one more dedicated chapter to ease into the final arc would have probably made the ending feel less rushed. That and I just enjoyed playing it overall and would liked more content.

The distinct chapters format to the flow may have been meant to simulate FE chapters while still also representing how persona stories often have noticeable breaks between dungeon arcs. In TMS though, it felt a bit more artificial, not damningly so, but I think the plot momentum was a bit worse for it. 

The set up for each chapter break also revolves around Itsuki himself improving as an entertainer, even though he doesn’t know what direction he wants to focus on, and while it’s most emphasized early on, this aspect of Itsuki’s development himself feels almost abandoned or ignored through the mid and late game until the very end. The solution does make some sense, but some of the details that enable it to happen are a bit questionably contrived, and like the overall story, it felt a bit rushed in the final hour, based on what I remember.

Otherwise, the story did a good job of setting itself up, providing the characters with adequate motivation and means to seek the goals they set and each dungeon gave reasonable purpose for the main characters to tackle it.

The final chapter seemed to be trying to make up for the lack of build up by twisting and turning a bit more than usual, but most of its attempted twists were fairly standard fair for trying to draw out suspense and unfortunately were somewhat predictable for it. I was a little surprised at the host for the big bad, but mostly because I hadn’t been paying close enough attention so that was on me.

2. Setting/Theme

The Tokyo idol scene setting is the most interesting aspect of the story and while I can see it being polarizing, I found it novel myself. Mechanically, it does a good job of unifying the dungeons under a common theme of "things idols do" - such as posing for photo shoots or acting on TV.

Beyond dungeon design, the idol theme also naturally informed character designs and the multitude of costumes that appear throughout.

You can even see this thematic flair in the way that spell casting involves a character signing their autograph as a glyph!

If there’s one oddity that stands out to me about the aesthetics of the game, it’s that the monster designs seem to be unable to decide whether they should be FE inspired or SMT inspired or neither, but even in the latter case most don’t seem to fit in with the idol theme in any capacity.

Even when enemies are FE inspired, they seem to have gone through a similar (if not more extreme) filter that the Mirage characters went through - becoming dramatically stylized and the only real purpose I can conceive for it is to make enemy classes that were definitely human in FE appear non-human here. For instance, the middle and right monsters above are myrmidon class enemies - unpromoted swordmasters from the FE universe.

Not to mention: Why do their out-of-combat sprites look like Organization XIII members!?

3. Characters

Like the story, the characters are good if nothing particularly revolutionary. Most seem built around one or two tropes but then are fleshed out beyond that which is fine. You learn more about them as you do their individual side quests (social links) and these do a good job of giving the feeling of evolving your bond with that character. The pacing of the side stories is mostly okay, though the gameplay reward for those that are plot locked to be very late doesn't always feel equal to how long you had to wait to do them. There's a bit of persona syndrome wherein all the chars get plenty of opportunities to interact with the MC, but would benefit from more time interacting with each other as well.

I liked all the characters in the end. There's a good variety between both the girls and boys, though because of join times some chars got more focused screen time than others. Again, I think a longer late game with more story side quests (instead of fetch quests) would have helped balance things out. 

If I had to be as base as to rank the girls in terms of waifu ratings: 1. Eleonora 2. Tsubasa 3. Kiria 4. Maiko 5. Mamori = Tiki Though it's worth noting that top four are all really close, and each slot only wins out over their competition by a small margin. I don’t dislike Mamori or Tiki, I just am not into the little sister appeal.

I suppose Barry Goodman is worth mentioning as well. Barry is a foreigner who settled in Japan and behaviorally embodies the most cringe-worthy aspects of otaku culture. He’s heavy-set, roughly groomed, and somewhat aggressive/abrasive about his passions. I’m not one to judge him for the subject of his passions, but the way he interacts with them would make me uncomfortable around him had he been a real person. Ultimately he is a good person at heart, but his poor people skills are unlikely to endear him to anyone on first impressions, and the fact that he doesn’t care only exacerbates his problems.

Finally, and predictably most disappointingly, the FE chars (heroes and villains) are barely developed and could be replaced with persona or persona like motifs without changing the overall plot. The FE aspect is little more than a coat of paint that gives secondary theme to the invading 'otherworld,' and it's a real shame and waste of potential.

Aside from the Mirage characters and Tiki themselves, there are however a few unmarked references that are at least self aware enough to be welcome Easter eggs for fire emblem fans:

Anna is your convenience store shopkeeper, and there’s even a ‘shadow anna’ who will sell you more dubious dungeon consumables that a normal convenience store wouldn’t stock.

Ilyana works at the cafe, keeping close to her beloved food.

Aimee runs the jewelry store as she was the item store merchant in FE9 and 10

And Cath runs the costume shop. She’s a thief in FE6 with a distinct affinity for money, not unlike Anna, though not as extreme either. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve read over her supports though.

I saw an npc employee at one of the random background shops in Shibuya central street that could also be Brady from FE Awakening, but the camera never got close enough to see him clearly enough to make a positive ID.

Finally, I found it amusing that all the playable chars' names are class puns/references 

蒼井樹 = Aoi Itsuki > Aoi means blue in reference to FE lords typically having blue hair

織部つばさ = Oribe Tsubasa > Tsubasa in reference to her peg knight class

赤城斗馬 = Akagi Touma >  赤 (Aka) gives us “red” while  馬(uma) is “horse.” Red cavalier (partnered with a green cavalier) is a reoccurring archetype in FE. The Red cav tends to be the hot-headed one.

I can break down the others if desired, but these will do for examples.

4. Gameplay

Going to break this into a few parts:

General

Combat

Dungeons

1. General

The real reason this game is compared to Persona; gameplay mirrors a lot of persona's elements and it's almost easier to describe how it deviates from the Persona format than spend time detailing how they're the same. That said, if you like the persona formula (as I do), you'd probably enjoy TMS's gameplay flow as well.

While the lack of daily life and day limits for dungeons removes a lot of the tension of time management for them, I think it's fine since a lot of persona players rush dungeons in 1-2 days anyway and in TMS, once the dungeon is done, you don't have to worry about doing busy work to tick off the days until the plot is allowed to move forward again. The lack of social stats is an element of depth removed, but without a time cost element to activities, it makes sense and is probably a good thing for it to be absent from TMS (even if story wise it could have actually be viable as Aoi and the others grow their skills as performers).

Using the WiiU game pad as a smartphone screen to facilitate off-screen character interactions as well as display more detailed enemy information was clever if perhaps unnecessary (as persona 5 showed). Having the only map on the game pad actually made it a little disorienting to reference for me since my eyes had to leave my tv entirely, leading to me either holding my game pad up or bobbing my head up and down to compare my map with my surroundings. On the DS, the two screens are at least close by. I’d like to say there may have been a better use for the game pad, I’m not thinking of anything off the top of my head, so it may have been wise to minimize its use as a gimmick anyway.

This is already in your phone history when you start the game, but it’s still probably my favorite moment from the text message logs:

#relatable.

Replacing persona fusion is a more straightforward crafting system that is the source for your weapons and passive skills, and in turn, much like Tales of Vesperia, your weapons are the source of your skills, both active and passive. The system sounds more grindy than it is in practice though. Simply advancing through the dungeons and fighting 70-80% of the monsters you encounter naturally will provide you with enough materials to forge most weapons as they become available. In fact there were a number of times when I ran out of new weapons to forge and had to push on with already mastered weapons equipped. I liked that bosses and some savage encounters would drop mats of a higher tier than what was readily available from current monsters, and you had to spend them wisely before advancing the plot to the point where those mats became common. It let you preview the next tier of weapons and abilities for select characters but who you gave those weapons to was never overly stressful since you could get the other weapons you passed on later anyway.

Rare monsters drop unique mats that can make weapons that give unusual or otherwise off-type skills to characters and it makes catching rare monsters that flee rather than engage the player rewarding. IIRC, I encountered fewer than ten rare monsters in my entire play through though, so I did not feel it worth the time to actively hunt them unless there was some trick to make them appear more reliably (and catching them was also a bit dependent on the surroundings). Like treasure monsters in P5, they usually had some kind of gimmick where they were only weak to one thing if they had any weakness and the latter ones also came with dodge [weakness] passive and had a chance of just up and running from battle.

2. Combat

The one-more mechanic is replaced by "Sessions" which are not unlike self contained one-more combos anyway. The tag in attacking animations were pretty fun and though late game sessions can get quite long, there’s no way to speed up or skip session animations, possibly in part because of the existence of duo arts which use the session animations as a timer. They could have prohibited skipping prior to deciding on a duo art and then allow skipping or speed up after, though. Long session animations didn’t bother me, personally though, as session attack animations were varied and interesting enough that I never got tired of even the early basic ones (most of which were replaced by late game).

Openly displayed turn order, plus some late game skills that can actually influence turn order were both welcome features as well. 

Beyond sessions, specials, duo arts, and ad-lib performances were great at providing extra variety and changing the pace of what might otherwise be rote combat. While duo arts and ad-lib performances were rng bonuses that you mostly just take whatever you can get and be grateful, specials were more deliberate, needing a resource that builds slowly at first. Later on, with longer sessions and meter boosting passives, the sp gauge builds up much faster, but even then specials usually should be selected carefully, especially within boss battles where recovering lost sp is a bit trickier. 

That said, special skills were not created equal. Even though buffs and debuffs are powerful, some of the later buffing and debuffing specials came late, at a point where I already had normal skills that could buff or debuff at almost if not the same potency without spending SP. Similarly, as my repertoire of skills grew, my ability to hit weaknesses improved and using specials to break through resistances became less necessary, even as monsters began appearing with more resistances. 

Finally, Itsuki’s second special - “Strike A Pose,” was absurdly good and only got better as my session combos grew longer late game. The ability to give everyone twice the actions in a turn opens up so many other combos that often times, there was little reason to use offensive specials in favor of either two individual sessions or a concentrate/charge boosted session. 

Inversely, I found myself using healing specials a lot less, and perhaps it was because I used Tsubasa a lot less late game - I made Chrom a great lord which gave Itsuki healing and support which was kinda Tsubasa’s niche previously, so with Touma able to out damage Tsubasa and Elly covering flying enemies, Tsubasa just wasn’t out in combat all that often, which meant Mamori was the only one with healing specials (which were helpful on occasion) but in the end using Strike A Pose allowed me to get normal heals out in extra abundance while still enabling attackers to make a play to help clear troublesome enemies.

The FE weapon triangle’s representation in strengths and weaknesses among weapon types (not extending to magic though) gave a welcome way to predict weaknesses for enemies I had not encountered yet. One of the frustrating things about persona had always been that weakness/strength attributes for new monsters were difficult to predict and late game could cause you to walk into a bad situation that was never really your fault. Not only did the weapon triangle help mitigate some of the arbitrary mystery, but weaknesses were frequently consistent across similar enemy types at different levels even outside of the sword/lance/axe trinity. For example mage type enemies were, with few exceptions, all weak to swords and fire. Skills that deal effective damage (i.e. horseslayer/armorslayer) were also a great addition that gave characters tools to start session combos on enemies that they might otherwise be powerless against. The player also gets other ways to work around pesky resistances, features that are both welcome and necessary because...

If I have one glaring critic of the battle system it’s that Itsuki, like persona protags is mandatory. However, unlike persona protags, Itsuki has static combat tools and extremely limited ability to influence his own strength and weakness attributes. He’s always weak to fire and lances and since you can’t remove him from the front line, you always have someone in combat weak to those elements. Fortunately this is less deal breaking for the fact that Itsuki dying in combat doesn’t immediately game over (hallelujah!). In addition, later in the game most chars get passive skills that greatly increase their avoid against elements they’re weak to, Itsuki included. Still, being able to remove Itsuki from the front line would greatly increase your party diversity and flexibility. For a while after recruiting a second sword character, I had difficulty justifying putting him in the active party because Itsuki already filled the sword role. Eventually, I promoted Itsuki to a more support role and let the other char handle offensive sword plays. 

One more minor complaint I have is the inability to swap out fallen allies. Having only three party members means that even one of them dying can be crippling, especially later on and on harder difficulties. I’ve wasted turns reviving downed allies and trying to heal back only for enemies to just repeat what killed someone in the first place and put me exactly where I was last turn with less healing items or sometimes in an even worse situation. While the boss dichotomy of easy/impossible with little in between that some persona bosses suffer from is present here, the existence of specials, ad-lib performances and duo performances that heal or revive greatly alleviate some of the comeback struggle that has a tendency to snowball in this combat system. As the only active non-rng option, specials in particular are important to the system. The severity of boss gimmicks isn’t quite as punishing in TMS compared to persona, but TMS’s smaller party size, can still cause a bad situation to cascade into unsalvageable territory.

3. Dungeons

The dungeon design of TMS is interesting in that it departs from persona 3/4′s formula of randomly generated floors in favor of deliberately organized floor plans with usually only one correct path to the end. The linearity is sometimes broken up by treasures that you’ll have to backtrack for, but aside from that, there’s little mandatory backtracking within a dungeon. Dungeons stick around even after you clear them, allowing side stories to ask you to venture back over familiar ground for one task or another.

That said, the linear nature isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In TMS’s case, it allows the developers to give the player a learning curve for the dungeon’s mechanics and then challenge how well the player understood the earlier lessons, because the devs can guarantee that the player experienced the earlier sections before the later ones. It may sound obvious on paper, but it means that the developers can have a better awareness of the player’s competency at any given point in any dungeon, which is something that can’t be tracked when the player can go multiple routes at any given time. But I digress.

Another mechanical difference of note is how the player, Itsuki interacts with enemies pre-battle. In persona 3 and later, you could swing your weapon to hit an enemy in the field and that would start combat (at an advantage if they didn’t notice you), but in TMS, striking an opponent on the field knocks them back and stuns them, giving you the choice to then get closer and touch them to begin combat at an advantage or to avoid combat entirely. I like this greater degree of choice and it fits within the philosophy that TMS dungeons are made to be less stressful - less about meticulous resource management - than persona games. There’s still an incentive to engage in combat: you need to keep up a certain amount of level growth just to have the raw stats to beat bosses, but if you’re low on health and/or healing items or just plain short on available play time and you think or know there’s a checkpoint up ahead so you just want to make a push to reach it, you aren’t forced into battles you don’t want to engage in... with the exception of “Savage Encounters,” which are challenge monsters that seem to just exist to screw with you anyway. I think there was only one area prior to the last or second to last dungeons that had savage enemies I could actually beat albeit with great effort.

Playing TMS after Persona 5, it was also apparent that TMS’s idolaspheres were prototype palaces, from the set floor layouts and linear progression to the overarching themes of the dungeon informing its aesthetic and unique mechanics. In fact there are a number of things that TMS pinoeered for Atlus that then went on to feature in P5. You can read about some others here.

Puzzles were almost entirely navigation in nature - that is, how to use the dungeon mechanics and infrastructure to get from your start to your goal. It may be because it’s been a little over a month now, but none particularly stand out in my memory as being exceptionally good, while one or two I remember for being somewhat arduous or tiring. I’m still of the opinion that areas that the player is trying to solve puzzles in should have lower if not 0 encounter rate with random enemies, as battles, especially turn based ones that don’t tend to resolve in a single turn, can disrupt problem solving trains of thought.

Overall the dungeons are good though, and that’s important as they’re the meat of the gameplay. They are generally well paced with plenty to do and some minor stuff to find on your way to your target goal. Each dungeon’s unique mechanics fit with the dungeon theme and aside from a few exceptions the enemies are fairly distributed.

5. Conclusion

It has its flaws but I think, in the end, Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE gets more right than it gets wrong. Even though the story was standard fair for this genre, I thoroughly enjoyed it and wished it had more content to its core for me to experience. I know there’s dlc, but the nature of dlc means that it’s nothing integral to the story and I’m not sure it would scratch the itch the way I want.

The setting is unique and the game fully embraces the themes it sets up and the themes in turn inform and affect almost every aspect of the game, giving it a unified appeal.

The combat is arguably more interesting than persona. It takes the same core formula of targeting weak points for massive damage but allows players more tools and freedom to circumvent bad matchups, make carefully planned strategic plays, or simply style on enemies with flashy satisfying attacks.

[bffhreprise]

Entry 264

 “Enough of this.  Quiet.” I commanded, examining my daughters.  I couldn’t know which was which without asking, and I wouldn’t lower myself to speak with them.  These two had been disappointments ever since they were stolen away, never working toward our family’s good fortune.

 “I don’t believe the master of this house understands Japanese.” stated Lady Pendreigh, obviously suggesting that I was being rude by speaking in my native tongue.

 “Actually, I do.” commented Mr. Somerset in perfect Japanese.  Then, speaking in English, he said, “But I would prefer if we all were to stick with English while around my staff.  I believe introductions are in order.”

 I would speak in English till the day I died before upsetting that one.  His strength was as certain as Lady Pendreigh’s, though she seemed surprised by his mastery of my language.  Interesting.

 Stepping over to a pretty blonde with exquisitely dyed hair, James said, “I believe you already know Mary Wilson.  This is her daughter, Emma.”

 The girl curtsied, so I nodded.  Duncan had been most impressed with her.  If his stories of her powers weren’t full of boasting, she would make a splendid addition to the family, assuming she would earn our trust.

 “Emma tends to the grounds with her magic, and I can assure you that you’ll find our vegetables exemplary if you dine with us this evening.” explained Mr. Somerset.  He went on to say, “I regret to say that the forest is off limits without first signing a contract.  I’ve been informed trespassers meet an untimely demise, but feel free to negotiate with my secretary, Aaliyah T. Sypher, if you wish.”

 I fought the wave of fear but felt some had still shown.  No one spoke lightly of Death and lived, but this one employed her as a secretary.  That much of my son’s report was now confirmed.

 “That… will not be necessary.” I stated, not wanting to trust my safety to the whims of such creatures.  I doubted the Great One would place my value over theirs.  My eyes were drawn to a small point of light in the form of a tiny, winged woman.  She flew over to James, gracefully dancing through the air, seeming to chastise him.  My son had told me of her, but seeing her was something else.

 Seeming to catch my gaze, Mr. Somerset said, “Ah.  This little one’s a dear friend of mine.  Unfortunately, she seems a bit perturbed, having been left behind in my office.  Meeting the rest of the fey truly is an interesting experience, so please do consider the contract.  Adelmar seemed to enjoy the experience.”

 “Oh, my cousin most certainly would recommend the experience.” insisted Lady Pendreigh, smiling warmly.

 I nearly bowed to her will, but restrained myself, knowing that I could not show such subservience at the moment.  “I will certainly consider your suggestion.”

 The fairy landed on Mr. Somerset’s shoulder, sitting and nuzzling against his neck.  He didn’t seem to think anything of it.  I knew of his magic well enough to know why, but my comparatively feeble arts were helping to dull the sensation slightly from what I had felt in the arena.

 James moved onto a black-haired man, saying, “This is Marco Rossi, our phenomenal chef.  I have yet to find a meal he doesn’t create exquisitely in a multitude of variations.”

 “Too kind.  Too kind.” claimed the chef, though he smiled proudly.

 The brown-haired girl who came next had perfect posture and an heir of importance to her.  “This lovely lady is named Cosette.  She’s fairly new to my company, but she is showing tremendous promise.”

 “Enough promise that she was offered France, though she has yet to accept.” added Lady Pendreigh lightly.

 My head jerked to stare at the Lady, shocked that the Great One would praise this child that much.

  “Well, I am just as happy to keep her here.” insisted Mr. Somerset, stepping over to a girl with hair as white as her skin.  Signing as he spoke, he said, “Portentia has been with my company since September, and she has proven to be quite gifted as a best friend in my company.”

 “Her skills with a staff and unarmed combat are very formidable.  I can attest that you would be most impressed with a demonstration.” claimed Lady Pendreigh.

 “This would interest me.” I replied, having heard a little of her from my son.  I took note of the girl’s surprise that Mr. Somerset would know sign language, saying as much through it.

 “I’m sure that can be arranged.” agreed Mr. Somerset, while apologizing to the girl with his fingers.

 She seemed disappointed that she wasn’t his teacher.

 “My apologies.  Portentia is deaf, so I was translating and grew distracted.” he claimed, unaware that I knew what he had said.

 “No offense taken.” I assured him, knowing I wouldn’t admit offense if he threw a drink in my face and stomped on my foot, though I’d need to set the bones quickly.  He was far too dangerous.

 “Next is Brandon.  He joined my company last June with his sister, but I believe she’s out on a job at the moment.” explained James as he motioned to the relatively tall boy with red hair.

 “Sure is, boss.  I’m pretty amazing too, by the way.  Check this out!” exclaimed the boy, causing his arm to grow in size.

 I knew from my son that Brandon would hardly pose a threat to my personal guard.  His sister could at least use magic, though poorly.

 “He and his sister have different talents, but they’re both valued friends here.” stated Mr. Somerset, making me worry if my disinterest had offended him.  “Jarod has been my best friend practically since we met and joined my company soon after Aaliyah.  She personally taught him how to fight, as Duncan surely mentioned, and he has great expertise in numerous fields.  He easily could have retired already if he was a much lazier sort.”

 “Thanks, man.” replied Jarod.

 Jarod’s lack of upbringing was readily apparent, but he had very powerful allies.  Still, I pointedly watched the fairy, knowing I couldn’t show the slightest approval yet.  We were bargaining here.

 “Allow me to introduce Mila.” stated Lady Pendreigh as she gestured to the maid.  Though she could easily pass for my sister, you surely realize I’m an only child.  Mila is quite possibly the most accomplished and capable maid you’ll ever find, Adelmar’s staff included.  Being multiple places at once certainly has advantages.”

 “Multiple places at once?” I questioned.

 “I’m an artificial lifeform.  Duncan’s description of me was quite inadequate, I’m sure, but I didn’t have this body when he was here.” explained Mila.  Then her voice came from the walls as she said, “I am quite capable of running the house, cars, and numerous other devices without the slightest stress.  In fact, my current hardware is sufficient to quite easily electronically isolate your country without the slightest lag in any of my duties, so you can imagine how difficult swatting a company is for me.”

 The threat was obvious in her words, but I could do nothing against Death’s creation.  Mr. Somerset had overwhelming power at his disposal.

 “Thank you, Mila.  I am certain she’s not exaggerating even slightly, Mrs. Drache, considering the things I’ve witnessed.” warned Lady Pendreigh, though she smiled.  “We try to stay on Mila’s good side.”

 “I would not have even known you were artificial.” I admitted.  “Who constructed this android?”

 Mr. Somerset motioned to his friend, Jarod.

 “Mila and I did a large amount of the design and construction, but Aaliyah took care of her skin, eyes, and hair.” explained Jarod.

 “You had some great insights for hair growth.” insisted Mila.

 He shrugged, perfectly comfortable with his own brilliance.  My son might not have been overestimating Jarod’s worth to us.

 James then explained “Jarod has his own lab under the garage here, since he’s also kind enough to do some mechanic work for everyone.  His engine design is absolutely incredible.”

 “Yeah.  The boss got Jarod to hook up my sis and me for our birthdays.  Our cars are amazing!” added Brandon.

 “I don’t want you to merely take our word on Jarod’s accomplishments, of course, so I’ve arranged a little demonstration for you if you’ll be kind enough to follow us into the east wing.” stated Lady Pendreigh, motioning down the hall to the East.

 “I would not doubt your word, of course, but I will gladly accompany you.” I replied, feeling trapped.  I didn’t need any more knowledge of the boy’s fighting than that a human was capable of beating my son in fair combat.  Lady Pendreigh had me in her web.

 “Marco, would you mind serving us tea there?” she questioned.

 He winked and walked off to the West.  I followed Lady Pendreigh at her side while considering how I might get out of this mess.  She had known of my visit and made preparations.  The staff here was obviously following some script of hers, but there was absolutely no way to win against the daughter of a Slayer in direct combat.  I could hear one of my daughters idly chatting with Mila about wedding dresses  behind me, another ally to them.  My plan was in tatters, but not broken yet.

 “What did you think of James’ latest fight?” questioned Lady Pendreigh.

 “Impressive. I would not have thought to see a fight such as that.” I admitted.

 “What’d ya do, boss?” asked Brandon.  “You punch some guy’s face off?”

 “What!?  No.  I didn’t strike him at all.  There wasn’t really any fighting, precisely.  Walis Shiqatafatu demonstrated his prowess at magic, and I suggested he surrender, which he did.” explained Mr. Somerset.

 Brandon guffawed moronically before saying, “Oh man… I bet he was shocked.”

 Glancing behind, Lady Pendreigh said, “Quite.”  Then facing me, she added  “I’m sure James would grant you a friendly sparring session if you get in the mood.”

 “No.” I replied, too hastily.  Forcing myself to be calm, I said, “Thank you, but I must decline.”  I was on edge.  Fighting Mr. Somerset would have absolutely no gain and a great deal of embarrassment on my part.

 “James, you’re planning on expanding your company to Japan one day, aren’t you?” inquired Lady Pendreigh.

 “I’m open to the possibility, yes.” he replied.

 “If he and I were to wed, he’d have the right to challenge for his pick of land there.  Do you think anyone would oppose him?” she questioned.

 She knew the answer.  Just as now, fighting Mr. Somerset would be an exercise in humiliation.  Young as he was, James was far more powerful than my son had led me to believe, and Duncan had been very impressed by him.

 “Please excuse me for a moment while I get changed.” stated Lady Pendreigh.  “Emma, would you mind providing some seating for us while I’m away?”  Without waiting for a reply, she blurred away with the speed of a Slayer.

 “Oh…  Well, I didn’t bring any seeds with me.  Care if I ruin a bit of your varnish?” questioned Emma, looking to one of my daughters.

 My daughter rolled her eyes while pulling chopsticks from her hair, which let her hair fall down.  “Let’s see what you can do with bamboo.”

 “Hmm... I’ve a few ideas.” claimed Emma, grinning brightly.  The chopsticks lost their form, expanding into chairs and a table.  Leaves of varying sizes came together to form cushions.  “Should be cozy!” exclaimed Emma before hopping into a chair.  “Don’t worry.  I made super thick cuticles over the leaves, so nothing should stain your clothes.”

 “Your thoughtfulness is appreciated.  My son had spoke well of you, but seeing your gift in person is a delight.” I assured her, admiring the beauty of her work.  The speed and control were remarkable, and I had been informed that she could control vast numbers of plants at once.  My son should have worked harder to win her interest.

“These look quite comfortable.  Thank you, Emma.” commented Lady Pendreigh, already dressed for combat.  Smiling, she then looked to Jarod and asked “Shall we begin?”